(Weeks later somewhere in rural Virginia near the North Carolina line)
Delilah stirred. Something tickled her nose and she wrinkled it. That didn't take away the urge to sneeze so she vigorously rubbed her nose until the urge passed. Satisfied, she yawned. That did it. Suddenly she sneezed. Loudly.
She used her hands to sit up in alarm as she came to full wakefulness. For a moment she wasn't sure where she was and then she remembered. She and Tim were attempting to work their way south to a refuge that they hoped their friends had already reached and were waiting for them. They had hidden out here, in the upper level of a barn when they had been forced by a wandering pack of infected to abandon their latest transport and run for their lives. Well, Tim had done the running with her over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. He had outdistanced the slow pursuers until they found this place and he had climbed the ladder to the loft carrying her. The hay was comfortable to sleep on but the morning sun had floated enough particles in the air to make her sneeze. It didn't help that sometime during she had burrowed down into the stuff as the temperature had fallen. There was a chill in the air this morning.
"Hey there," Tim's voice broke into her thoughts. He was standing on the ladder with just his head visible. She cocked her head slightly and took him in. He had always been neatly groomed and nicely dressed. Now look at him. His sun-lightened hair was reasonably short because they had both got in the habit of hacking it off with their one pair of scissors when it got long enough to be a nuisance. But shaving was out of the question.
Tim's beard was more scattershot than anything else. In some places it was quite dense in some places there hardly was any hair at all. He had tried shaving using the survival knife in their emergency equipment. Once. Delilah had used nearly half of their first aid supplies before she could staunch the bleeding.
They had both changed in other outward ways as well. They both were leaner, tanned and certainly more fit. Delilah's arm strength had grown remarkably, to the point that Tim had only needed to lift her high enough on the wooden ladder that led up here for her to clear the ground and she had pulled herself up hand over hand. And Tim's endurance was nothing short of amazing. Although they tried to find ways for her to ride; in a cart, on a bicycle, even in a wheelbarrow he usually had to provide the motive power. When confronted by the infected he could pick her up and carry her on his back for miles without stopping.
But the inside changes were even more pronounced. Tim's green eyes had always been open and expressive, full of interest and concern for those around him. Now they were hard, giving nothing away. Delilah felt at times looking into them was like looking into uncounted depths of ice. And she wouldn't be surprised to find that hers were just as hard as his. They had no choice. Not after what they had seen in the last month. To allow the full weight of everything they had seen and had to do would drive them to madness.
From the moment they had recovered from the explosion at the bridge their life together had been a constant struggle for survival. As she remembered Delilah gave a little grin, showing not everything had been apocalyptic. When Tim had recovered enough from the explosion he had called Gibbs to report their situation. There was no doubt that they were cut off from the airport and as she listened with Tim the MCRT leader admitted that the infected were breaking into the area and they would be forced to leave very soon.
Then he had asked "Delilah are you listening?" When she had replied in the affirmative he went on. "I've told Tim this before but now I'm telling you both. You do NOT have permission to give up. You do not have permission to fail to get to the safe zone. And most important of all, you do not have permission to die. So get going, you're burning daylight."
They had got going. It hadn't been easy or pretty. They had avoided the interstates and major highways that had almost instantly become clogged with frantic people trying to run somewhere, anywhere whether they had a destination in mind or not. Even on the side streets and back roads there had been more than one attempt to take their motorcycle. Two they had managed to avoid but the last one had required them to shoot their way clear of what was no less than an ambush.
Somehow they had made it out of the city into the countryside. People had already become scarce, whether from being infected or killed or simply barricaded in their homes as a last government broadcast had recommended before that radio station went off the air they had no idea. All that seemed to be out were the "Walkers" as they had heard another station dub the slow moving infected.
There had been one desperate firefight forced on them when they came upon a school bus surrounded by infected. The driver had stalled the bus trying to force through the group, who were now hammering on the windows and worse, on the folding doors at the front, which broke even as they came upon the scene. The driver was frantically trying to barricade the opening without much success to keep the zombies from the screaming children. Tim and Delilah had only exchanged only. There really wasn't any choice. They stopped. Tim hopped off the motorcycle after lowering the kickstand. Delilah, of course, remained on the bike, teetering slightly as she balanced herself. Then they started shooting.
Just like at NCIS it was one round one kill. Because of the bus they had to be extremely careful to hit their targets, lest a stray round hit a child. Fortunately at first the infected s limited attention was in front of them so the pair was able to pick off most of the ones on their side and eliminate the congestion at the bus door. But then the infected's attention turned and a larger group appeared from the other side of bus. Why they never figured out. Drawn by sound the children s' screaming should have all but drowned out the sound of gunfire. Was there still some spark of intelligence in the zombies that allowed them to realize that gunfire equaled danger? They had no idea.
Regardless the attackers should have overwhelmed them. Would have in fact had it not been for the roaring engine that announced the arrival of another motorcycle. The woman riding the bike stood it on its rear wheel as she charged the infected. Somehow she controlled the bike without hands, maybe by some form of telepathy or something, for she swept out a pair of angled kukri knives, one in each hand, as she plowed through the infected. Her arms seemed to windmill and heads went flying. Without releasing the knives she dropped the bike back to two wheels and spun it around the moment she cleared the now greatly reduced group. Another pass and the few remaining were handled by Tim and Delilah.
The woman stopped her bike next to Delilah, surveying the situation. Tim had hastened to check on the children and driver. He and the latter now had the hood of the bus up and were working on getting it restarted.
"Thanks," Delilah said to the woman. "They would have had us without you, and worse they would have had them." She nodded towards the children.
The woman sighed. "Glad to have helped but it seems like there's more people who need help than any of us can manage." She looked carefully at Delilah. "And even though you obviously can't stand or walk you were right in there fighting. Good for you." She nodded at Tim. "And good for your other half there."
"I'm Delilah McGee, once upon a time a DoD analyst. He's Tim, a special agent of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service. We're trying to make our way south to one of the Georgia barrier islands where hopefully a safe zone has been set up."
The woman shook hands with Delilah. "My name is Alice. Alice Abernathy, former Treasury agent and now ex-corporate security officer. I'm carrying information and samples from the lab I was security head for to the CDC in Atlanta."
The bus roared to life and Tim came over to be introduced.
"They're," he waved at the bus, "heading for a local high school where some members of the Virginia State Police and National Guardsmen are hopefully setting up a safe area. It's not far but I think we should ride escort."
The ride was uneventful. The trio approved of the high school. Surrounded on three sides by an artificial lake an already strong looking chain link fence was being hastily reinforced with concertina wire by the Guardsmen. They met with the three people in charge; the school principal, the senior State Trooper and the Guard unit commander and received their thanks and updates.
"Things are not looking rosy," confessed the State Trooper. "Governments are collapsing; National, State and local. We're on our own. The communications system is becoming very spotty. Most radio and TV stations are off the air. Most of what we get comes by short-wave radio."
"The good news is that the infection is no longer airborne. The virus is not destroying the eco-system and the infected do not seem to have some 'sixth sense' to draw them to the living. So we're not living in Resident Evil: Extinction. The bad news is that there's no telling how long the infected will continue to move about. A bite always results in infection; there is no vaccine or antidote.
"Not yet anyway," responded Alice. She held up the pack from her bike. "The corporate lab I was at was making remarkable strides when viral containment was breached. One of the researchers in a protective suit managed to get me this stuff before being attacked and killed by the infected in the lab. It's possible that CDC may be able to use this to develop one or the other."
Alice was on her way shortly, declining offers of assistance or respite. Tim and Delilah spent the night before going on. Not long after that the bike had broken down and they had been forced to go on foot, or at least Tim's feet. Abandoned cars were everywhere but nearly without exception they were out of gas. Their most recent acquisition had been a golf cart. Battery powered it was extremely quiet and had allowed them to bring along extra supplies but they had been forced to abandon it when the farm they had stopped at hoping to find a source for charging the batteries had proved to be filled with infected. Realizing that the only road in and out was blocked by virus carriers Tim had scooped her up and run for it, reaching this fortunately empty farm an hour or so later. They had snuggled in the loft, staving hunger off with a couple of energy bars from the packs they kept with them all the time. It wasn't the first time they had been forced to abandon a mode of transport in a hurry. It probably wouldn't be the last.
Delilah's nose twitched again. But this time it wasn't hay, it was the scent of food. Tim grinned.
"Ready for breakfast? Ham and eggs are waiting!"
"Oh my gosh yes."
Delilah pulled herself to the ladder. The two of them descended slowly and Tim carried her outside to an open brick fireplace where a wood bench was waiting. He handed her a tin plate and her fork from their joint mess kit and settled beside her with a matching breakfast.
Delilah inhaled with her eyes closed, and then slowly ate, enjoying each mouthful. Tim did the same and silence reigned as they ate. When finished she gave a sigh of contentment.
"What now?"
"That's what I want to talk to you about."
(To be continued)