Authors Note: Apologies for the delay, I was temporarily blindside by the news that Zoo had not been renewed for a S4. My muse decided to go cry in the corner for a little bit because now there will be no new Jamie/Mitch goodness to watch. All I say to that is...thank goodness for fanfiction writers. Now back to your regularly scheduled program. Enjoy.

Jamie was never so happy to see the sign marking a county border disappear into the distance behind them. She gunned the motor a little, inching their speed up a notch. Beside her, Mitch raised an eyebrow.

"In a hurry to be somewhere?"

Jamie glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled.

"Nope. Just glad to be back on the road again."

"Can't argue with that." Mitch replied, looking out the passenger window once more. Jamie gave him a quick once over, noting the sharper line to his clean shaven jaw, the tendons in his neck more prominent.

Chas, his staff, family and friends all came to see them off. Even the zoo staff had come out from behind their barricade to send them on their way.

All hell was breaking loose within the city center, the police headquarters fire bombed, and all the city administration fled. Chas and his people would continue to produce clean water for as long as possible, if only to supply their own needs, but they were also creating a small community within their neighborhood, where sanity was still holding a tenuous grip, creating safe zones for refugees from the city itself.

Mitch and Jamie could only wish them luck. Two weeks had passed since they'd been arrested and held in jail, every one of the days after Mitch was found, needed to just get him back on his feet. Now it was time to go.

The morning had dawned clear and cold, a perfect spring day. Not wanting to go anywhere near Watertown central, they were heading nor-westerly, past the glacial lakes, their destination for the morning being Jamestown in North Dakota, two hundred miles away. After seeing the destruction of Watertown, they were both starting to feel as if they were plague carriers, poisoning everywhere they went.

Chas had a different view when Mitch muttered his opinion out loud.

"If you hadn't come to us, hadn't told us what was happening, we'd still be in blissful ignorance until they buried us. You may not have been able to save everyone, Mitch, but you will have saved some, myself, family and friends included."

Now those very same people were left to fend as best they could. At least, they consoled themselves, they had access to uncontaminated drinking water.

As the truck carried them towards another border, another state, they started to see evidence that the hybrids, both in the water and on land, had overtaken them in the race north. Vehicles fleeing down both sides of the highway were now the norm, not the exception. The vehicles themselves were also changing, some converted delivery trucks sported strange assortments of extra lights, plating to protect wheels and sides, goods strapped on the top or towed. Even tractors and farm equipment were roped in to provide transport, some people obviously moving house lots to goodness knew where, to escape either the threat of violence, the growing sickness or the rumors about the hybrid invasion. Mitch likened it, in an unflattering way, to roaches scattering when the lights go on. There was no organization or plan, the people were were simply running away.

The plus side was that now their armored vehicle passed unremarked and unnoticed among the refugees, what police control was left wasn't evident beyond the city or town centers, certainly the local PD were not concerned with traffic safety or accidents along the main roads they were now traveling.

With the chaotic evacuations came more frequent hazards along the highways. Broken down cars, trucks and anything with wheels, were left abandoned on the shoulder or along the berms. That resulted in having to avoid those travelers, stranded by unreliable vehicles, now wanting to commandeer another mode of transport, regardless of who it belonged to. Makeshift barricades were becoming more common. The truck, with its massive front bull-bars, coped easily with the more flimsy efforts, but where actual vehicles formed the barrier they chose to avoid them, rather than engage, going off road whenever possible to bypass the obstacles.

They hardened themselves to ignore the piteous groups of stranded people, children and elderly included, who shouted to them to stop and help. If they had, they would have just as likely fallen into an ambush. The ping of shots hitting the armor plating or bullet-proof glass became more regular, rolling the window down now no longer an option.

Many of the vehicles left behind to be looted or burnt, were abandoned because they simply ran out of fuel. One of the many changes made when Jamie organized the repacking of the truck and trailer was securing the fuel drums inside the truck itself. A number of the square Jerry cans now formed the base of their bed. Fuel and clean water were their most precious possessions, in this violent new world and they protected them accordingly.

If the worst came to the worst they could dump the trailer, and still get away with sufficient of both to last them several weeks, with rationing. Obtaining food, on the other hand, became a scavenger hunt. If they came across a deserted hamlet or small village they took advantage of whatever was left, scouring the shelves for tinned or packaged goods, siphoning abandoned cars when safe to do so. Only when they could not pack any more of anything into their vehicle, did they simply drive, not stopping for any one or anything, their one and only goal now to meet up with their friends.

They eventually rumbled through the outskirts of Jamestown, North Dakota, with only minor scrapes on the metalwork, and no loss of goods or injuries or breakdowns. They weren't going anywhere near the city center, only skirting to the east, on their way northward. By sunset they expected to be on top of the Canadian border.

X-x-x-x-x

"Stop watching me."

"I like watching you."

"I'm eating, see?" He held out the half eaten carrot.

"I know. Still like to watch you."

Mitch chuffed. "You should be taking a nap. First watch, remember? You decided we needed to keep a night watch going."

Jamie swept her arm in a semi circle. "With what's happening out there? Damn right we need to keep alert. It's not the hybrids we have to worry about now, it's the desperate people who would quite happily kill us both, to get their hands on what we're carrying, let alone what we're riding in."

Mitch let out a breath that bordered on a sigh. "Not arguing with you, just saying you need to get your rest." He glanced sideways at her. "I was in bed for a week, I think I've caught up, and gone into credit."

Jamie frowned at him. "You have only just recovered from near starvation, not been in bed for the pleasure of it. And if I had my way..."

Mitch raised a finger to cut her off. "It was long enough. I'm fine now, just fine." He indicated the cab. "I'm not exactly exerting myself driving the truck, am I?"

Jamie pouted. "Driving is exhausting on the brain. And the nerves."

Mitch nodded. "It has become something of a challenge, I'll admit, but we seem to be leaving most of that behind the closer we get to the Canadian border."

"True, but I'm not sure why that is."

"Probably because...um...I have no idea why."

Jamie snorted. "The brain is stumped? I'm shocked."

Mitch shot her a glare and she subsided into giggles.

Mitch glanced at her again. "I do have another theory. Nothing to do with north bound traffic, but something else."

"Well, share it with the class!"

He rolled his eyes at that sallie. "If you behave. While I was stuck in bed..."

Jamie interrupted. "For a good reason!"

"Yeah, yeah. While I was there I had a chance to ponder on some things." He paused for a moment.

"And?" Jamie prompted.

"And my theory is about why Abe said they were going to Vancouver, which, as you know is on the west coast, deep in hybrid territory behind the barrier."

"I was a bit mystified as to why they would go there, and not further east. Why risk being over run with hybrids? They have Samuel, for God's sake, why put him at risk?"

"Are you going to let me get on?"

"Fine. What did you come up with?"

"Actually, just to digress a moment, those test results done on that hybrid you shot..."

"Yeah?"

"Didn't tell us a great deal more than we already knew." Mitch ducked when Jamie threw a sock at him.

"Mitch, you are impossible!"

"I know. I work hard at it." He grinned. "Anyway, as I was musing over these results that hardly added much to our already extensive knowledge, I started to think about our destination, and why Jackson, Abe and the others would go there." He paused again. Jamie glared at him and he relented.

"Have you, in your many travels around the world, flown into or out of Vancouver?" He waited for Jamie to shake her head.

"Well, the airport itself is huge. Plus, it's on an island with only bridge or water access. There are only five bridges to the island, one of them like a drawbridge, able to be raised and lowered for ships and the like."

Jamie nodded. "How do you know all this? No. Never mind, you can tell me later. With you so far, nice big island and easily defensible."

"Satellite news, google maps and personal experience. So, to continue, knock out four of the bridges, nobody and nothing can get on, except over the drawbridge."

"Including hybrids?"

"I'm assuming so. The species we've seen to date have all been land based creatures, even the ones mutated a hundred years ago, none were aquatic. Therefore, with an airport able to be isolated like that, it would have been relatively easy to evacuate the half a million people living in and around the city..."

"Assuming they wanted to leave, mind you, they probably would when the west coast was compromised and they built the barrier."

"Right."

Jamie gave him a quizzical look. "So how does that help us, or the others?"

"Add to the fact that the city has an airport relatively easy to defend from even the airborne hybrid, it would make sense to use it as a base for all sorts of area's of study, once the civilian population is taken out of the equation."

Jamie nodded. "So, you have an empty city, no civilians to worry about, safe transportation there and back, to anywhere in the world via aircraft, huge secure area to play in, guaranteed corridor for resupply or excursions into the hybrid zone as needed, but who's going to want to stay there?"

Mitch made a gesture with his hand. "What better place to base studies on both the hybrids and the whole issue of human sterility?" Mitch was warming to his theory. "We all know that at some stage the sheer number of hybrids would over run the barrier, sooner or later. Garrison was prepared for this, the armed forces had their fingers on the button, ready to blow the beacons off the face of the Earth along with, what they called, acceptable losses. Once it was known that different hybrids were starting to appear, the chance of them escaping the restriction for movement we put on them was, if not a foregone conclusion, as least highly probable. Look at the flying hybrids, nothing could stop them from escaping, their only downfall a slavish devotion to the beacons."

"So?"

"So-o-o," He drawled. "Once they were out, they'd keep heading east until they hit the Atlantic. There was never a beacon in Vancouver, nothing to draw them there, so any hybrid population would be small. Once the people were gone, and with them a food source or just prey to play with, they would have to go elsewhere. When the beacon was activated outside Boulder, they would have been drawn south, just as all the others were."

Jamie sat up, one foot resting on the dashboard. "Alright. If I follow what you're saying, then Vancouver has an island airport with only one access point to the mainland, supposing the others were destroyed. With planes able to fly in and out unimpeded, they could easily evacuate the civilian population, probably relocating them before the barrier was completed. With that done, those remaining have a perfect site from which to study hybrids, and also concentrate on finding a cure for sterility?"

"Got it in one." said Mitch.

Jamie shrugged. "Still missing a connection somewhere. Why go to all that trouble? When facilities and personnel are already available on the other side of the states or elsewhere in the world?"

Mitch wagged a finger at her. "Would you agree that sterility is the number one problem that needs solving, world wide?"

Jamie nodded. "Well, yes."

"So, like every other time the united states government have wanted a really huge issue resolved, they gather together specialists in their field and place them somewhere they can solely concentrate on the problem at hand – think, Area Fifty One and the atomic bomb, cold war spycraft, U.F.O's!"

Jamie rolled her eyes, then frowned. "But surely, isolating them on an island...oh, wait...you're thinking of what the Shepherds did on Pangaea!"

"Exactly. They'd want to keep the research out of the way of the general population, otherwise everyone, every news agency around the world would be clamoring for information, never giving them any peace. Also given the whole issue of human sterility, they are going to have to conduct human trials...quite probably illegal or morally ambivalent human trials. They may have even gone so far as to attempt to round up the few human females left who can successfully carry a baby to term."

"Like Clementine!"

"Like our Clem. So, we have the greatest minds brought together in a facility where they can work uninterrupted, with no shortage of resources, effectively isolated by the barrier and the surrounding hybrids, few as they are. They are safe from the beacons, and no hybrid nests were detected. Garrison, as head of the IADG would have known about it, I imagine anyone in what's left of the military hierarchy are aware of it, the government certainly would be. If a cure is found there, this country could see the rebirth of the human race. It could also see the rest of the world held to ransom." Mitch rounded off his summation with a smug smile. Jamie responded with an impressive eye-roll.

"God, you are paranoid sometimes. How do you know the greatest minds are there?"

"Remember that satellite news? I did a little digging when I had a signal. Back when you were hunting and disposing of the Shepherds, several other people were going missing."

"I didn't kill them, Mitch."

"I know. But you put them out of action."

"I did that. Who else was missing?"

"On that USB Abe left us, were several copies of articles and newspaper items detailing several individual specialists that were no longer available, not even traceable. They were roughly dated between the time of the sterility gas being dropped and a couple of years ago."

"And you think these specialist, I'm assuming they all had something to do with human reproduction, were kidnapped or persuaded to volunteer, and brought to Vancouver?"

"Yup. I don't know why Abe didn't clarify how they knew to go to Vancouver, knowing how deep it is in hybrid territory, but there has to be a reason. Maybe he thought the memory stick would fall back into Abigail's hands and didn't want to give away what's being done out there, who knows? All I do know is that it's the Nazi's all over again. At least, that's my theory."

"But surely, if that's the case...are they the good guys, or the bad guys? And where does that leave us in regards to the hybrid issue?"

Mitch sent her a rueful smile. "That's why it's only a theory. A good theory, but I have no way of finding out how right I am until we get there."

x-x-x-x-x-x

By the end of the day they rolled into the tiny township that was Lignite, North Dakota, just fifteen minutes from the Canadian border at Portal. When they drove through the quiet hamlet it appeared deserted, only the lonely sound of a dog barking, audible above the sound of their tyres crunching over the rubble and cracked concrete that was the main road.

Mitch pulled the truck over behind a towering silo next to the railway lines, the place, if possible, looking even more abandoned than the houses and streets they'd just come though. Weeds were growing between the sleepers under the train tracks, the paintwork on the building peeling and discolored The wind was making a piece of metal swing back and forth, squeaking persistently, adding to the air of desolation.

"Welcome to sunny Lignite," Mitch muttered under his breath. He listened to the engine tick away to itself, cooling down after the long haul north. He'd been keeping an eye on the engine temperature, expecting the machine to develop possible problems being worked all day, but the well built unimog defied expectations, the temperature never rising above the manufacturers standard operating limits.

"Are we there?" Jamie leant forward through the hatchway allowing access through to the back.

"Slept well?"

"I did. You drive a smooth ride." She kissed him on the cheek and pulled her head back in. "I'll get us something to eat, then get up top. Any preference?"

Mitch released the seat belt webbing, relaxing down into the drivers seat, glad to be free of the tight straps. "I'm easy."

He stared out of the windscreen, the setting sun painting vivid colors against the few clouds. The land around them was largely flat with a few, long low hills breaking up the horizon. It made for spectacular sunsets. He soaked in the final golden rays until the sun sank below the Earth's rim, leaving streamers of pink and orange as its legacy.

Jamie appeared and pushed a bowl into one hand and a mug of something into his other.

Mitch didn't much care what it was, it was hot, tasty and he relished every mouthful. Since his brush with starvation, his appreciation of simple food only increased, his sense of taste and smell heightened possibly by the knowledge that he'd skated very close to near-death, only Jamie's constant care pulling him back from the edge and back to life. He couldn't have done better himself.

A side effect of his experience was his swearing off booze. He'd always considered he had a handle on alcohol, kidding himself he was in control of his drinking, that he could give it up any time. In truth, and as painful as it was for him to admit – he was an alcoholic. It was a wonder he functioned at all, after the months long bender he'd pulled, when Jamie went missing in Brunswick. Even after ten years in and out of the stasis tank, which, with its healing ability, was probably the only reason he didn't die of liver failure in the jail, his first indulgence was a drink. He told himself he missed the taste, missed the burn of it sliding down his throat, settling like a glowing coal in his stomach. But he couldn't fool himself any longer. Jamie had laid down the law when he finally regained his senses. Any alcohol they carried was now purely for medicinal purposes only. Despite the tired cliché she meant every word.

To lessen the sting, she admitted that she was an alcoholic as well, but Mitch knew she'd have to work a lot harder to match him for drinking binges. Now, together, they prepared to live alcohol free, no longer tied to a bottle for as long as they both should live.

X-x-x-x-x-x

Mitch stared out at the surrounding countryside, doing a slow sweep of one hundred and eighty degrees. The infrared goggles shaded everything a lurid green, but as bright as day. Nothing could move that he wouldn't notice, if he was looking in the right direction. To augment the goggles he also wore a pair of headphones over his woolly hat, one of Jamie's many toys, attached to an electronic listening device, like a mini handheld satellite dish. Together is made it impossible for anyone, or anything to sneak up without being seen or heard. Already he'd heard any number of rodents going about their business among the weeds and untended crops, and the occasional owl on the hunt.

He heard only one vehicle during his long watch, the distant rumble of an engine easily discernible before any lights were visible. It cruised past their hideaway, never slowing down, nor speeding up, just keeping a steady speed. He kept tabs on it until it passed beyond the range of his device, on the alert in case it chose to turn around and come back, maybe to investigate across the railway tracks. It didn't. Before dawn his vigil ended, Jamie joining him and bringing a mug of coffee to share while they watched the sun appear.

"Quiet night?"

"Just one car passed by." He made swooping motion with his hand. "Kept right on going and never turned back."

"Good. What's the plan to get over the border?"

Mitch wrapped his hands around the coffee and took a sip. "We have two choices, both have their own risks."

"Official or unofficial?"

"Yeah. I'm leaning towards the unofficial myself. In fact I'm thinking, having looked at those road maps we picked up, that we don't need to bother with the border at all and just head west until we hit the barrier."

"Why?"

"Well, either way you look at it, from here we still have to travel roughly twelve hundred miles west, to reach our final destination, regardless of whether we stay in the US or go further north, via Calgary. With no hold ups, or stops, we could optimistically be there in twenty four hours, give or take."

Jamie stared off into the distance, taking a few moments to work out the route. "To take the US route, we'd cross through Montana, through the barrier at Butte, across Washington state to the coast, then a short hop north into Canada?"

"You forgot Idaho, but that's beside the point. We know that Butte is another command center manned by the IADG. They will have heard what happened further south, so will probably be in touch with Garrison, or at least somebody who has the authority to let us pass."

"And the alternative?"

"We hope for the best, but if we're stopped, we're a moving violation as far as the Canadian custom officers are concerned. The border is monitored twenty four seven, wherever we choose to cross, they'd know and come to investigate, posting news about our illegal incursion, notifying every cop north of the border. We could be locked up again. Personally, I think our best chance of reaching Jackson and the others is to go through Butte."

"You said there'd be risks with both. What the primary risk for the US option?"

"The condition of the roads on the west side of the barrier. They won't have been maintained much in the last ten years, including any bridges. There may be any number of natural hazards like slips, washouts – you get the picture. We have to drive through some pretty wild country, over mountain passes, through several national forests and the going will be slower, less options to get off the main highway if we encounter trouble. The biggest risk is just being on our own."

Jamie started to collect their breakfast dishes. "I think we're done pretty well on our own. I've always liked Montana in the spring. I vote Butte."

Mitch followed her, gathering up the gun, goggles and listening device, lastly snagging the blanket he'd been wrapped in to stave off the cold. "Butte it is."

x-x-x-x-x

The road stretched before them flat and straight. On both sides of the road spring growth greened the huge crop fields, some left fallow, most growing some plant or other. They were driving parallel to the US border until they reached their turn off, to head south, at Scobey. The landscape stretched as far as the eye could see, painted in a pallet of multiple shades, sometimes according to the crop, more often by the variations of the new growth of grass and weeds. Occasionally a windbreak of almost black pines would break the view, or a flash of still water, reflecting the sky. The towns, strung like beads, passed in a blur, the main highway often passing them by with only a sign to indicate they existed at all.

They remained vigilant long after passing a still smoldering, burnt out diner as they rolled through Wolf Point, but when nothing occurred, they relaxed, admiring the railway bridge as they crossed the Missouri river for the first time and watched mile after mile of rolling grassland pass them by.

As the hours passed they progressed deeper into Montana, heading further and further south, until finally turning westward, bypassing the town of Brockway. In the hour after, they picked up a tail.

Abandoned vehicles had been few and far between, unlike the approaches to the border. Either the people had already left, or they owned more reliable transport. Jamie suggested the former. What few vehicles they passed going north didn't slow down or try to block their way, but when Mitch checked the rear view camera on the back of the trailer, another bit of Jamie special tech, he noticed a lone biker keeping a healthy distance back, never closing, just following.

"I think we have a tail," Mitch observed, Jamie checking the side mirror and trailer camera. She twisted to snag the high powered binoculars from behind the seat.

"Why do you think it's a tail? Apart from the fact he's on the same road heading west like us."

"I speed up, I slow down, he keeps pace."

"Ah. Keep it steady, I'm going up top."

"What? Don't you want me to stop?" Mitch clenched his fingers on the steering wheel, suddenly feeling every bump and jolt of the truck despite the flat, featureless tarmac. Vision's of Jamie thrown off the roof made him start to sweat.

Jamie had other ideas. "No, don't bother." She undid the seat belt and rummaged for a few seconds under her seat, producing another harness. "I'll wear this and clip on to the roof runners. I won't fall off."

He kept one eye on the road and one on Jamie as she pushed open the hatch onto the roof of the cab and climbed out. As the truck and trailer were the same height, she had a clear view behind, plus she could shelter behind the air-diverter to prevent herself being buffeted. Mitch concentrated on keeping the truck from swaying or jolting, craning to see any cracks or potholes ahead. Soon, but not soon enough for Mitch's nerves, Jamie was climbing back into the cab.

"So, what did you see?" he asked.

Jamie spent a few moment wriggling out of the harness, and back into her seat belt, placing the binoculars on the dashboard for easy access.

"Far as I could see, it's a lone biker, towing a small trailer and loaded up with gear. Didn't see any guns on the handle bars, but that could just be because he has a handgun."

Mitch glanced over at her. "I know we're not exactly dawdling here, but shouldn't a bike be able to over take us easy?"

Jamie nodded. "Easy as, so we can only assume he's hanging back for a reason. Maybe he thinks we might try to take him out if he passes?"

"Guess we'll find out when we have to skirt somewhere bigger than a hay bale"

Jamie pulled down the map, tracing their route. "That would be Lewistown. What we're on now basically passes smack dab through the center of the town."

"Not a good idea."

"Nope. But there's an easy bypass that meets up again on the west side. If our tail is truly a tail, we'll find out then."

After hour upon hour of open grassland, the landscape changed on the approach to Mosby, trees once more added variety to the view, breaking up the ridge lines and clothing the rolling hills. Just outside the 'blink-and-you'd-miss-it' one building town, Mitch pointed out a bridge.

"Do we need another solar panel?"

Beside the bridge, crossing the poetically named Mussel Shell river, was a tiny shack sporting some modern technology – one three foot square of solar panel and an UHF aerial. "Probably used to monitor river levels, or currents or something."

Jamie rolled down the window as Mitch slowed the truck. On closer inspection she rolled the window back up. "Someone's shot the thing to hell."

As he got them moving again he checked the mirrors and camera. "Cheeky shit! Our tail isn't being so coy anymore."

Jamie looked at the image and saw that the biker was now riding only a hundred meters or more behind them. Far enough back to avoid any buffeting from their wake.

"Want me to warn them off?"

Mitch took a moment to answer, getting the truck up to speed and watching the biker at the same time. "Nah. Just a waste of ammunition We'll lose them at Lewistown."

Shortly after that the trees started to thin out and they were back to grass and scrub for company.

It was as if the three vehicles were the only living things in the whole world. The last vehicle had passed them hours ago, the land so empty they barely saw another living thing. No cattle, horses, not even birds, the skies devoid of life as much as the Earth below.

Briefly, more tree's started to appear again, but this time instead of wildling pines, they were large oaks and other deciduous species. As they passed the turnoff for Winnett they saw a high mesa with a dramatic drop off in the distance. It was the first sizable geological feature they'd seen since entering the state.

At the outskirts of Lewistown they slowed to negotiate the remains of a barricade. It had long been abandoned, apparently something large having crashed through in the past. Further in they passed a weed infested park.

"That's not something you see every day!" Mitch remarked as they passed the center piece of the park – a cold war Minuteman missile.

"The area is probably surrounded with old missile silos."

Mitch glanced over at her. "Now that would make a cool hideaway, don'tcha think?"

Jamie gave him a look. "You want to live in a dirty great hole in the ground, be my guest!"

"He's closer." Mitch remarked, glancing at the rear mounted camera feed. "Not likely to be able to shake him now." He slowed the truck to negotiate a burnt out tanker blocking half the road when the first shot rang out, pinging off his side window.

"Shit!" Gunning the motor they peeled off to the right, only to have another shot hit Jamie's door.

"We're in a cross fire!"

The motorcyclist, that had been tailing them and keeping close behind, suddenly roared past, one arm held straight out, pistol in hand, shooting at their attackers on the left, in front of the truck, before his speed carried him beyond the range of the shooters, the small trailer bouncing along behind.

Car's had been placed to prevent an ordinary vehicle from escaping, if the guns didn't stop them. The truck wasn't ordinary, shoving the cars out of the way and clearing a path to escape. As they rounded a bend at speed, they saw the rider waiting for them, signaling for them to follow him.

"Do we?" Mitch asked heatedly.

"I don't know...YES!" Jamie shouted at the last moment, Mitch turning the wheel sharply to make the right hand turn.

What followed was a zig-zag path through the back roads of Lewistown until they emerged beyond the western city limits, the green sign giving towns and distance at the side of the road, riddled with bullet holes.

The biker slowed down and pulled over, stopping on the hard shoulder, the truck and trailer pulling in behind him. Jamie and Mitch stayed in the cab, watching the biker dismount then reach up to take off their helmet.

"It's a woman!" Mitch exclaimed.

"A woman with a gun." Jamie reminded him.

As if hearing them, the woman laid her helmet on her saddle then reached into her jacket for her gun, laying that down on the ground. Then she stood there, watchful, her hands held up, level with her shoulders.

"If anything happens, drive off." Jamie told him, strapping a gun holster round her waist. "That means if she shoots me, you drive away, Mitch."

"Then don't get shot." He retorted.

Jamie climbed down from the cab and shut the door, not moving until Mitch locked it.

The woman watched Jamie approach, not moving or speaking until the two women were six feet apart.

"You know your small towns." Jamie said. The woman shrugged.

"Didn't think you wanted to plow through the center of Lewis, so took the scenic route."

"Is there a reason you haven't overtaken us before now?"

The woman tilted her head to the side. "You're driving a wicked piece of metal. I figured you were either army or something official. If you weren't, you'd have tried to shake me off or shoot me before now."

Jamie tilted her chin up. "What do you want?"

"Company. Protection. There's some freaky stuff out there."

Jamie gave her a tight smile. "You have no idea. What's your destination?"

"Ultimately? Seattle. Short term, Butte."

Jamie couldn't help reacting in surprise. "Butte? Why there?"

The woman gave a toothy grin. "Now that would be telling. Where are you guys heading?"

Jamie glanced back to see Mitch had the drivers door open, rifle propped on the open window and aimed at the woman. She frowned at him, then shook her head, turning back to face the woman with a small smile.

"Strangely, the same as you."

"Small world. I'm Ally."

Inwardly, Jamie winced at the reminder Mitch's former girlfriend-stepmom-whatever. "I'm Jamie, and that's Mitch. Have you been drinking bottle water?"

Ally slowly lowered her hands. "What sort of fucked up question is that?"

"A simple yes or no will do."

"Then...yes."

"Good. Don't drink from the rivers, reservoirs, lakes or taps. Have you been bitten by any strange looking animals?"

Again Ally looked quizzical. "No."

"Good. How is your fuel status?"

"It's good." She pointed to her small trailer. "I find the bike quite economical. What's your fuel economy like?"

Jamie laughed. "Not exactly five star, but we manage. We're planning of keeping going until we reach Butte."

"That's my plan. We have another three hours or so to reach Butte, but our next large town is Townsend, about two hours away. A few blink stops in between, but the closer we get to Butte, the fewer people left to worry about."

"Good to know. We're going to top up before we get moving again. Hey, you didn't get hit in the crossfire? "

Ally smiled broadly. "No. Just glad you were there to take the heat, that would have been a close call for me on my own."

"You're welcome. If you need anything, come ask." Jamie extended her hand and Ally took it, the two women shaking before parting ways. Jamie walked back to the cab and climbed in.

"What did you think you were doing?" She asked. Mitch was stowing the rifle above his head.

"Covering you. Thought that was obvious."

"And if she'd shot me?"

"I'd have shot her, then myself." Mitch looked over at her, noting her cynical look. "If you're dead, there's nothing for me. I love my daughter, but Clem has her son now, she also has Jackson and the others. She'd get over it, if I wasn't around, she did before." He paused, his face twisting. "I went through hell, when I thought you'd died in that plane crash. I nearly drank myself into an early grave. Just 'cos I've sworn off the juice now, I know I'd just go right back on it, the second you stopped breathing." He gulped a breath. "So yeah...you dead, she dead, me dead." His face creased into a grin for a moment. "Hey, that rhymes."

Jamie shook her head, deeply moved. "Impossible, stubborn man. Come here..."

Her lips felt cool under his, her fingers busy against his scalp. It was awkward leaning across the center console, but he didn't care. After several long minutes they pulled apart and just looked at each other, foreheads touching, then Jamie licked her lips and sat back in her seat.

"We need to refuel. I'll get the can, you get the hose."

Mitch laughed, his somber mood lifted. "You 'ol romantic."

x-x-x-x-x

They didn't linger at the roadside, getting under way as soon as both vehicles were refueled and checked over. The truck had several new bullet dents in its metalwork, but was otherwise intact. Ally, after introducing herself to Mitch, opted to go ahead, keen to give her powerful ride its head for some of the way. She'd wait for them to catch up.

Jamie was now in the drivers seat, giving Mitch the leisure to watch their new friend tuck her military short, bleach blond head back into her helmet before throwing her leg over the saddle and firing up the motor. Jamie noticed him watching. "So what do you think of her? You know she's also heading for the west coast? Seattle, I believe she mentioned."

Mitch glanced over at Jamie, his eyes narrowed. "I think precisely nothing, at this stage. Maybe she's going to find family." He shrugged. "She did us a favor, we're doing her a favor As long as there's no shooting, I'm good with it."

They were once more riding through sweeping countryside, no trees, no animals, few buildings, fewer people and a whole lot of nothing. A Judith's Gap they found themselves surrounded by a wind farm, the towering pylons and gigantic blades gleaming white, some of them still turning, others obviously lacking maintenance. It covered a huge area and stretched for miles along both sides and right up to the edge of the highway.

Ally was waiting for them a mile before the settlement of Harlowtown. Jamie pulled the truck up beside the biker and rolled down the window.

"Problem?"

Ally flipped up her visor and grinned, squinting into the sun. "Not really, but there's no real bypass to avoid the center of town, such as it is. Wanna risk it?"

Jamie looked over at Mitch, who shrugged and waved a hand in the air, dismissively.

"Do we really have a choice?" He queried. Jamie grimaced and turned back to the window.

"We'll risk it. We'll take the lead and stick to the main road if you want to use us as a shield?"

"Will do." Securing her visor back down, she waited for Jamie to get the truck moving again before slipping in to place behind the trailer. She rode so that she could easily see past the trailer to what was coming up, she could also see Mitch watching her in the big side mirror. She waved.

"The stray is waving at me," Mitch reported, one dark eyebrow raised in confusion.

Jamie laughed, amused by his terminology and expression.

They didn't speed through the streets of Harlowtown, but they didn't hang about either. Like every other town they'd passed through, it was small, served the surrounding area's needs and was empty of life. Mitch was glad to get out of it. He almost welcomed the expansive views, the empty sameness of the land, certainly better than looking at lifeless shops and houses, their owners and occupiers unlikely to return. In a few years all those country towns would gradually fall into decay, the houses fall down, the roads start to crack and grow weeds, trees in some cases. The land would eventually bury and grow over any evidence that mankind had tried to live there. It would return to what it had always been, like the steppes of Russia, a vast grassland under a really big sky. He wondered what the Native Americans thought of it all. During their trip across Montana, they had passed through reservation lands belonging to several different Indian nations. Had anyone bothered to inform then of what was going on? Did they already know? Would they simply return to their life before the invasion of the white settlers? He laughed silently. Wouldn't that be the ultimate irony, that the wide open plains devolved back to the plains people who always used to live there. Always supposing they survived the hybrids and spores. He hoped they did.

Ally overtook them again once they were past Harlowtown, accelerating off into the distance until no more than a speck. Jamie put in a CD and was half singing along to it, while Mitch stared out the passenger window, watching the clouds move over the emerging hills. At Bruno they were driving through a landscape of ridges and cuttings, brown streams and low hills, very different from the flattish plains. The horizon was that much closer, with overlapping ranges clothed in dark conifers, many of the water courses dry while others were not much more than a trickle, lined with willows and cottonwoods wearing their spring green.

Past Loweth they were accompanied by the stately march of towering electricity pylons carrying massive cables, two by two across the sage and scrub hillsides. Like colossus, the metal structures dwarfed everything around them, striding ever onward until the hills swallowed them whole.

When they reached Skidway, the hills came down to meet the road, along with their cloak of pines. After the long hours of wide expanse it was almost claustrophobic to travel between such close company. Heavily wooded slopes butted up against the guard rail, enormous pines half a century old loomed out of the forest, drawing the eye. The sky had narrowed to a strip of blue, bordered by a darkly frayed edging of pointed trees tops.

A mile or two further on and the crowding trees thinned out, the hills pulling back away from the road and Mitch felt like he could breath again.

By the time they were approaching the outskirts of Townsend, they were back to wide open spaces and gently undulating mounds.

They're tiny cavalcade was now on the home run to Butte, a mere hour away. They avoided the choke point t-junction in the middle of Townsend, following Ally through the back roads to join the main road further south, where once again, she took off into the distance.

Train tracks now mirrored their course, and for a short while the Missouri river did as well.

Bypassing Toston and leaving the railway behind, they crossed over the Missouri, quickly leaving the river behind them as they headed south westerly. Now they were back in farming county, the long metal frames on wheels used for irrigation standing idle and dry in paddock after paddock, patiently awaiting the command to roll again before they rusted away.

Halfway to Butte, and they were climbing, suddenly surrounded by hill tops and plunging gullies. The road cuttings were grey shale, the color of the road itself, the surrounding land as harsh as the moon. It was a complete contrast to the lowlands, the hard ridges and folding peaks giving no cover to man or beast. The nearest mountain ranges were blurred by distance, giving them a blue caste, those further away almost transparent, all detail lost.

The interstate neatly avoided Cardwell, avoiding any need to diverge from their course. They saw their first sign for Butte on the outskirts, heading west. Jamie raised her hand and Mitch gave her a high five. They had completed half of their journey to rejoin the Team.

They blasted past Whitehall, now only a half hour from Butte and within spitting distance of the foothills of the Rockies. Up ahead they had to pass through the Homestake pass to reach the city itself, Ally dropping back to follow behind. As they climbed the pass, they had to make their way around several rock falls, plus the center strip between the west and east interstate was reflecting evidence of long neglect with uncut grass and rank with weeds.

Once they reached the summit of the pass, they started on the downhill run, the views opening up, gilded by the sun getting low in the sky.

"Glad we weren't trying to do this in the winter!" said Mitch, pointing to the red poles set along the side of the road. "It would appear they get a tiny bit of snow up here."

Jamie laughed grimly, all her concentration on the winding road. "I'm just glad we're on this side of the road, not looking at the drop off over in the east bound lane." She swerved to avoid a house sized boulder sitting in the middle of the road. Mitch looked up at the hillside above, many other boulders of a similar or bigger size sitting poised to roll down with little or no encouragement.

"I vote we don't take this route again, especially if it's snowing."

Butte lay before them, nestled in a valley, a natural bowl sitting high in the Rockies, straddling the continental divide. Once a mining town, now a city, all but abandoned because of the concrete edifice that was the barrier snaking away, north and south. Some of the thirty two thousand inhabitants had chosen to remain, too stubborn to leave, unwilling to be convinced it was in their own best interest to evacuate. They, along with a selection of essential services to provide the Barrier Control center support and supplies, remained near to the barrier, never suspecting that it could ever be breached.

They pulled over into a lay-by to discuss their next move. It would soon be dark, too dark to try and find their way around an unknown city with unseen hazards, not least convincing the people manning the barrier control center, to let them pass through.

Ally was pulling off her leather gloves, tucking them inside the helmet already under her arm. She walked up to the side of the truck and Jamie wound down her window.

"We made it then." Ally remarked, fine lines framing her green eyes and bracketing her mouth.

Jamie smiled tiredly. "Now we just need to find a safe place to spend the night."

"I might just know of somewhere. It's not fancy, but it will have a flush toilet and hot water." Ally informed them.

"Sounds like heaven," Jamie retorted. "Are there people at this place?"

Ally shook her head. "Not any more. It's not far from here. I'll show you."

"Still trusting her blindly?" Mitch drawled, shifting in his seat. "Damn, my backside is numb."

"Does this look like I trust her?" Jamie held up her pistol she'd had concealed below the window. "Neither of us know why the other is here, and until we do I'm not taking any unnecessary chances."

Mitch gave her a winsome grin. "So we follow on trust, but keep a gun handy. Makes sense."

"Is there any other way?"

x-x-x-x