Rain. Rain, he could deal with, but this was an out and out storm and it was starting to get on his nerves. The trek to the gas station to get the diesel fuel had been grueling, but it looked like the trip back was going to be as close to hell as he wanted to get.

The spitter in the sugar cane fields was the first time Ellis really though there was a chance they were not going to ever make it back to the boat alive. The rain had come in like a solid wall of cold needle like drops, pounding into the small group, making it impossible to see each other. The cane thrashed and waves in a dizzying, spastic dance that made his head swim and every flash of lightning revealed yet another infected monster closer than he expected.

At one point, Rochelle shrieked so loudly, he heard it over then rolling, booming thunder. Everything was so chaotic and dark; all he could do was stumble forward and hope like hell he was heading in the right direction. He had lost Nick only seconds after they had re-entered the cane field and he was starting to feel panic at the thought he would not find the man again.

He frantically tried to wipe the rain from his eyes just in time for soggy cane to swing around and smack him in the face. More lightning, and another rotten, slack jawed face less than 2 feet from him. He knew there was no time to get his gun up in time, and as the thunder rolled like a physical force, making his legs weak and his chest rattle, the infected fell in a shower of meaty bits at his feet. Nick gave a cocky grin as he was revealed behind the falling creature.

"Gotta be faster than that, Overalls," the con man said in a cheeky voice. "We don't need one of those things chewing your pretty lips off."

Torn between being annoyed at the comment, and relief at being rescued and seeing Nick again, all Ellis could manage was a wordless grunt and to re-adjust his soaking wet cap.

The elevator was closer than he had expected and the two men stumbled into the rickety contraption steps in front of Coach and Rochelle. Nick slapped the button and the platform groaned to life. It rattled like a dying man and the shrieks of infected both above and below, now alerted to their location, was almost enough to drown out the sounds of the storm.

Their progress was agonizingly slow and the wind made the metal cage shake and wobble even more than their ride down. Ellis found himself holding his breath, praying to a god he had begun to lose faith in that they at least make it to the top. He didn't want to die trapped in the wreckage of an underserviced freight elevator. He didn't want to die, period.

It was Nick who broke him out of his gloomy thoughts with a sly hand sliding around from behind. Ellis hadn't noticed that Nick had backed into the far corner behind him until the warm breath in his ear and the warmer hand groping along his upper thigh woke him up.

"Easy, Overalls," Nick purred into his ear. "Just checking to see that you are all right." The hand slid further around moving to its real goal. Ellis was glad it was too dark for anyone to see the blush that must have been staining his cheeks as Nick cupped his hand around his crotch and gave a playful squeeze. "Oh, yeah," he whispered, "You sure feel all right to me, kid."

The cage rattled to a halt and Ellis wasn't sure if he was relieved or sorry to feel Nick let go and lean back against the back wall as the first wave of infected came pouring onto the platform.

The storm continued, and Ellis began to wonder if he would ever feel warm or dry again. The wind howled, and tore at his clothes and hat and almost pulled him from the top of a silo as they scrambled back toward the sugar mill. The witches wailed and keened louder than any wind ever could and it seemed like spitters were being spawned by the old mill itself.

By the time the found the safe house, all of them were either limping or burned by the corrosive green goop. Nick seemed to have the worst of it. He had managed to startle witch during a big blow up of the storm and now bore three new, very deep gouges down his chest. They oozed dark red blood as the safe house door slammed shut. No amount of gauze or bandages seemed to stop the blood from seeping through the torn flash, and finally they had to move on. The water from the storm was causing flooding already and the trash heaped down stairs was quickly filling with filthy, brackish water.

"Quite fussing already," Nick snapped when Rochelle tried to change to gauze vainly trying to stop the blood from flowing. "I got this, we need to get the hell out of here and back to the mother fucking boat." Rochelle backed off quickly and grabbed a new first aid kit. "We'll finish this as the next house, Nick."

Outside the bang of the door opening made a bunch of aimlessly wandering infected suddenly find a focus. Ellis had found more ammunition for his shotgun and took down the first 10 that raced up the half rotten stairs toward them. The town was nearly completely flooded. Cars were submerged to their headlights and infected stumbled around in water that was often up to their waists. While the water slowed the shambling dead down, it would slow them down as well.

"We need to get to the roof over there!" Ellis pointed to the row of houses across from the safe room. Several houses in a row were huddle together as if for warmth. He felt confident they could get further down the street by going from roof top to roof top than trying to wade through the filthy water in the streets.

A cheap aluminum ladder gave them the access they needed to the roofs, but the quickly found that they were not alone. Dozens of infected were also wandering around, high above the flood. It made him wonder if they still had an instinct to preserve themselves, or if these people had died and converted while on the roofs, or if they animated corpses had simply found their way up there while looking for someone to eat.

He didn't wonder about it for long. There were too many to ignore and the fight to the end of the row of houses was much harder than he had anticipated when he proposed the idea. The drop down to the soaked streets, come river, was almost a relief.

They darted through abandoned homes, a few shops that must have been decrepit before the green flu hit, and more houses that had more furniture on their front porches than inside their walls. Ellis stumbled yet again on a hidden bag of trash submerged near a door way and fell into a sodden arm chair.

"How long ago did they quit picking up trash in this place?" He griped as he pulled himself up and stumbled into the mostly empty house. "There ain't no way this much trash got piled up in just a few days. These zombies been bagging their trash or somethin'?"

"What kind of trash would a zombie bag, Overalls," Nick wheezed behind him. "Unused body parts? I hadn't noticed them being too picky yet."

"Ewww. Just ewww." Rochelle called back over her shoulder. "Shut up both of you, I do not want to think about there being body parts in these bags. It is bad enough knowing it is probably dirty diapers and chicken bones."

Neither he nor Nick had enough energy left to argue with her. The four of them trudged on dodging submerged dangers and roaming infected. Ellis remembered it only being a mile, maybe a mile and a half between houses on the trip out to get the gas, but this time seemed to be much longer. Every turn they made, he expected to see the glowing light above the safe room door, but instead, just another flooded street in a town too poor to notice had died.

Finally, in the distance, the light. Ellis began to grin. They were almost there. This was the last safe house before they got back to the Burger Tank and back to the boat. He never thought he would be so happy to see a Burger Tank. He tried to move faster, but his legs were too tired from running through the thigh deep water, dragging his sodden clothes and boots along endless streets, he stumbled and went down. The filthy water lapped at his face as he struggled to get up, Coach and Rochelle were too far ahead to notice he had fallen.

"This is twice, kid," Nick grinned as he offered Ellis a hand up out of the mud and muck. "You are going to owe me big time tonight," he winked as Ellis blushed and made a futile attempt the brush himself off as he stood. "Oh I don't. . . "

Ellis didn't get to finish his thought; a smoker loomed along the roof line behind Nick and had already lashed out with its insanely long tongue and snared Nick around the ribs and throat.

"Oh shit! Oh Shit! Oh Shit!" He heard himself say over and over as the misshaped abomination dragged Nick in like a fish on a line. "Coach! Rochelle! A Smoker has Nick!" He shouted as loud as his tired lungs would let him and he fired the shotgun over and over until the tentacle like appendage was severed and Nick dropped in to the rising water.

Rochelle was the first back out of the safe room and killed the smoker, leaving a cloud of noxious dust to blow in to the wind. Ellis didn't even care. He was already on his knees beside Nick, pulling him above the water's surface. The green eyes opened but the sound that came out was not so much a breath as a gurgle.

"Shit, son," Coach had come up beside them. "Best get him inside."

Ellis tried to be careful as he half carried, half dragged Nick into the safe house, but every step, ever bump made the gurgling rattle noise come out of his chest. A faint froth of red foam started to form at the corners of Nick's mouth.

The door made a solid boom and clank as it was pulled shut. Now should have been the time to celebrate another safe leg of their journey, but instead, Ellis was frantically looking for somewhere to lay Nick down so he could quit hurting the man.

A moldering bed was found in a small bedroom and he carefully placed Nick in the center of it. He ignored the screaming of the muscles in his back as he lurched upright and began to frantically search for a first aid kit. By the time he found one and came back into the room, Rochelle and Coach had already removed Nick's once white jacket and raised the fraying, stained blue shirt. The bruising around his ribs was already a starting shade and the broken bones obvious. Another wheeze and more blood dribbled from Nick's mouth.

"How you holding up, sport?" Coach tried to sound cheerful.

"I've been better," The words were barely more than a whisper.

"Sweetie," Rochelle, tried to gently guide Ellis back out the door. "I think you should wait out here."

"For what, Ro?" He snapped at here for the first time since they had met. "For what? Wait out here for him to die?"

"Sweetie," she started again, but Ellis brushed passed her and moved to the bed. Nick gave him a weak smile.

"I screwed the pooch on this one, kid," more blood. Ellis wiped it away with a piece of gauze from the kit.

"It'll be all right," He started but Nick stopped him.

"I haven't felt this bad in a long time, kiddo, and this time there isn't a hospital to put me back to together." He took Ellis hands in his. "I'm sorry." He didn't say for what.

"We can try to see if the rain will let up a little before we head out. " Coach was trying to diffuse the situation, put off the inevitable. Why don't we try to get some rest and see how it looks after the rain stops."

He backed out of the room, taking Rochelle with him.

"Don't say that, Nick," Ellis knew he was whining, but he couldn't help it as hot tears dripped off his face. "We'll figure something out. We'll…"

Nick held one finger up to Ellis' mouth, stopping the next words. Ellis could see how much the movement cost the older man, so he quit talking.

"Just lay down, Overalls," Nick tried to smile, but it was a tight look, more of a grimace. "Lay here with me for a while. Until the rain stops."