AN: Thanks for reviews! Here we go!
Chapter 7
Dave drove up to the compound that supposedly housed Derek and his family. It had taken a lot of investigation and diligence, but Dave had finally tracked Morgan down to Nowheresville, Illinois. He'd searched everywhere—the abandoned community center Derek had been fond of, his mother's and aunts' houses, and then finally the hospital where Fran Morgan had been employed. He'd gotten most of his information there, as well as a bonus—in the back seat of his large car, one of the medical professionals from Chicago was sitting next to Erin.
Dave glanced in his rearview mirror and smiled. Erin was looking better by the day. When they'd first arrived in Chicago, it had been touch and go. Dr. Kincaid had given her IV fluids and some medications that were working to suppress whatever harmful toxin the bites from the zombies had produced. She was still very pale, but she was passable for a member of humanity.
Sort of.
Her eyes were still pale, and speaking wasn't easy. She walked with a lurch, and her expression was one of pain and exhaustion. Many people in Chicago had pointed their guns at her in hysteria and panic. Dave had had to save her from many precarious positions. Erin had begged him to leave her behind, but he couldn't. She would've died in Quantico, and he'd come too far to lose her again.
He couldn't let that happen. Not on his watch.
"We're here, Doc," Dave called out as he moved up to the large gate, built with logs and two-by-fours.
A second later, fifteen men surrounded the car, large guns drawn and centered on Dave.
Dave put his hands up and said, "Stay in the car until I say it's okay."
Dr. Kincaid didn't hesitate. "Your call, Agent Rossi."
"Come out slowly," one of the men with the guns said. "No fast moves."
Dave opened his door and began to rise from the car, arms extended.
"State your name," another man asked.
"I'm Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi of the FBI."
That caused a brief rumble of activity before another man asked, "What is your purpose, Agent Rossi?"
"I'm here to see a friend," Dave answered honestly. "Derek Morgan."
"We know Derek, and we will alert him," the first man stated, "but first, we need to do an inventory and occupant search of your vehicle. Protocol."
"I understand," he said calmly, even as a rising edge of fear gripped him. What would these people say when they saw Erin? It looked as if they guarded their community with their lives.
"Rossi!"
Dave heard his name being shouted out from afar. He began to smile. He could reason with Morgan, even when Morgan was being unreasonable.
A few moments later, he saw Derek come into sight. It took Derek only seconds to bound through the gates and envelope Dave in a huge, warm hug.
"Rossi, man, it's good to see you!" he exclaimed, a slight laugh in his voice.
"Not as good as it is to see you," Dave answered.
Morgan was a sight for sore eyes. Fit, healthy, the same swagger and smile that he always had. It was almost like coming home again—except that they were surrounded by corn and a vigilante army that reminded him of any militia he'd visited and busted up over the years.
"Derek!" a man announced near the doors leading to the back seat of Dave's car. "You need to see this."
Morgan frowned and then focused on Rossi. "Dave, what's going on?"
"Come out, hands up!" the same man announced as Dr. Kincaid rose from the car.
"Dr. Kincaid?" Derek questioned, obviously surprised but pleased, and then he gasped. "Chief Strauss?"
Dave didn't wait to answer because he knew if he did, Derek would erupt. "Morgan, I know this looks bad, but I can explai—"
"Explain? How can you explain?" Derek snapped.
"It's a long story."
"How the fuck is this even possible? She's dead," he hissed, and then he paled, along with everyone else. "Jesus, Rossi...is she a—?"
"No!" Dave shouted, fearing for Erin's life. He calmed down again and said reasonably, "No, and the doctor can verify that."
"She's not a zombie," Dr. Kincaid announced clear and calmly, "but she's ill and needs help."
"Morgan," another man in Morgan's little militia said, stepping over to add his two cents. "We cannot allow this woman into our compound. It puts our people at risk."
Dave glared at the man. "We don't intend on staying."
"If that's true," the man said, glaring back, "then you can head on out of here."
"They're not going anywhere, Zach," Derek said sharply in a tone that brooked no argument. "They're my family, and I take full responsibility for all of them."
Dave nearly heaved a sigh of relief. He'd been waiting for that to happen, and lo and behold, it just did.
"Derek..." Zach questioned warily.
Morgan smiled at Rossi and then shook his head and clasped Dave's shoulder. "Bring your car and come on to our place. I think you have a lot of explaining to do."
Two hours later, Dave found himself sitting alone with Derek in the large farmhouse the Morgans called home. Fran had set most of the building up to be used as a clinic of sorts, and she was currently busy tending to patients. There was no shortage of illness in a small, nearly cloistered community, and farming accidents weren't unheard of.
Fran had greeted Dave with a warm hug and then had a warm reunion with Dr. Kincaid. Dr. Kincaid didn't waste any time; he immediately set to assisting Fran and Desiree with their patients. Erin had also gone with them. She was due for an infusion of melacorercin, or Melax, the only antibiotic that seemed to have any effect on zombie victims. Newly on the market, it was supposed to be used to treat general infections, but had been limited in use due to the high cost of the drug. It was, to quote Dr. Kincaid, a "last resort medication."
"How long does she have left?" Derek asked after everyone had left the room.
Dave had filled him in on the last few weeks, about what had happened with Erin and where the team had gone. Derek had looked elated at the mention of the team. When Dave had mentioned Garcia, Morgan's eyes filled with moisture.
"I don't know." He looked the other man straight in the eyes and spoke from his heart. "I'm terrified, Derek. I've just gotten her back, and I can't lose her again. Not after all she's been through. She deserves better than that."
Derek's sympathetic smile helped somewhat. "That she does."
Dave shook his head. "I don't know what to do. I only know that I have to defeat this thing, and the only way I can do it is to have my team with me."
A look of doubt crossed Morgan's face. "That's a tall order."
"It is," he replied, "and I know it."
"What is?" Fran asked, stepping in the room with Erin and Dr. Kincaid. At the blank look on Derek's face, she addressed Dave. "Agent Rossi? What's got my son looking guilty?"
"He's not guilty. It's me. I'm trying to get my team back together, Mrs. Morgan," he answered honestly.
"And Derek wants to go with," she added.
"I don't know about that," Dave responded quickly.
Fran took one look at Derek and then said, "He does."
"Momma," Derek began, "I'm not going to leave you and Desi here unprotected."
"With fifteen armed guards at any time and a reinforced wall?" she asked incredulously. It was like she couldn't hold back a giggle at how ridiculous the thought was. "I don't think you need to worry about that, honey."
She looked over at Dave. "When are you leaving?"
Impressed by her indomitable spirit. "As soon as possible, ma'am."
"Three days," Fran said. "You need rest if you're driving my son around."
Derek stood and walked over to his mom, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Mom, are you positive?"
Fran smiled warmly. "We'll be fine."
He kissed her cheek and gave her a big hug. "Thanks, Momma."
"Momma, Dr. Kincaid, we got a partial amputation from a plow," Desiree said.
"I'm coming," Mrs. Morgan said. She smiled at Derek. "Promise me you'll bring your Baby Girl home."
Apparently, Momma Morgan saw what everyone else did, too...
Derek grinned. "I will."
"Good," Fran said with a nod. She tossed over her shoulder as she left, "It's about time you two stopped dancing around each other and started giving me grandbabies!"
Dave laughed and added, "Woman's got a point..."
"Yeah, she does." Quick to change the subject, Derek arched a brow and asked, "Three days?"
Dave nodded, for the first time in weeks feeling truly hopeful, and replied, "Three days."
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