Authors Note: So, I got really carried away because I'm excited about having finished it, so here you go, for your binge reading pleasure.

Chapter 20

Daylight was just starting to filter through the trees. John wasn't sure he'd slept at all, he was frozen, the ground was hard and his body hurt in too many places to count. He must have done though because as he opened his eyes he met the sympathetic gaze of Sandra, staring out at him from the faux fur-lined hood of her parka, and he knew she'd caught him in the throes of another nightmare. He'd been having them so long now, sometimes he woke gasping in a cold sweat, other times he didn't remember them, the only evidence usually the heart-rate log on his smart bed, or out here, the all-seeing gaze of his colleagues. At least Sandra knew better than to ask, John doubted that Dorian would have the same restraint.

John rolled onto his back, away from his captain the smouldering embers of the previous evening's fire, and looked for his partner, the android was on his way back through the trees, carrying a plastic bottle full of water. They'd found it in the car and it was one of the few possessions they had with them since they'd failed to get the car going again two days previously.

"Good morning." Dorian greeted, handing Sandra the bottle of water first.

"Morning," she replied, tugging the hood down to brush her tangled hair out of her face before taking a sip and then holding the bottle out to John, who ignored it. She looked exhausted and her hair was a mess, John doubted she'd slept much either.

"You have to drink John." Dorian urged, but John just lay there on his back, freezing hands fisted into his pockets. "Come on, John. I know you're tired, but you're already low on fluids, you need to drink."

It was the upset quiver in the android's voice that made him sit up and take the bottle eventually, feeling the world spin from pain and bloodloss as he did. Dorian had been sounding like he was on the verge of a mental break since the previous evening, John knew it was a sure sign that he was low on charge, but none of them had thus far acknowledged the problem.

"How long you got?" John asked, his throat dry, voice gravelly.

Dorian shrugged. "I'm at twenty two per cent." He admitted. "So, possibly until mid-afternoon." He said it with such finality that John found himself getting slightly annoyed at the melodramatic tone.

He nodded his acceptance of the time frame though, "Okay, we need to do something about that."

"There's not a lot you can do John. There won't be anything out here I can use to charge with."

"If you think we're just leaving you here then your low charge is screwing with you more than I thought. What's up ahead? Have we got a town, a farm, anything coming up?"

"There's a small town in about seven miles, but it's off a track from our main route, otherwise there'll be nothing for a few days."

John nodded, "It'll be worth the detour." He hauled himself to his foot and grabbed the tree branch that Dorian had made into a crutch for him. "Come on, otherwise we'll be dragging your ass through the mud to get there." And with an ungainly pain-filled gait, he started off slowly down the road.

"John you're a genius!" Dorian hugged the man who was sat on the front steps of an outdoor and hunting shop. He had with him everything he'd wanted and was busy working on his project while Dorian and Sandra looked for food. "But are you going to be able to manage it?"

John looked down at his work, it wasn't ideal, but he'd found a couple of dollys for moving boxes in the warehouse and had cannibalised the wheels off them, attaching them to a wooden door. From there he'd painstakingly made holes in the top of the door, with a chisel and a hunting knife to thread a length of rope through each corner which he'd clipped to a pair of climbing harnesses. Further bungee cords were standing by, ready to strap the android onto the crude wheeled sled once he couldn't move under his own power.

Sandra smiled at Dorian's enthusiasm. These mood swings were as amusing as they were disconcerting. "We'll manage Dorian, we're not leaving you behind."

The DRN grinned, "You're going to be my very own sled dogs. Mush, John! Mush!"

John rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too.

"There's a voice, that keeps on calling me, down the road, that's where I'll always be…" Dorian sang.

John frowned, "Is that the song from The Littlest Hobo?"

Sandra shrugged with a laugh.

They were interrupted by the sound of a sharp click, which they all identified immediately as a shotgun being cocked. They all froze and glanced around, although Dorian sang the next line of the song, "Every stop I make, I make a new friend…" under his breath and laced with irony.

"What do you want?" Sandra growled. A group of three haggard-looking people stepped out from behind the building.

"We want whatever you got." A skinny blonde woman with bad teeth snarled.

Dorian, in his low charge state, couldn't help himself, he started laughing hysterically.

"What's so funny?" She asked, the two men behind her shifted uncomfortably.

"We've got nothing." Sandra explained, "No food, no medical supplies, we're at a camping shop and I can't even find a sleeping bag. It's been cleaned out."

"You've got some nice-looking coats." The woman pointed out, waving her gun at Sandra and John.

Dorian stopped laughing and became deadly serious, his face sterner than John had ever seen it. "I've just remembered something else we have," he said, pulling a handgun from where he'd concealed it in his waistband, "we've got bullets, and I've got armour plating," he tugged at the neck of his shirt to reveal his collarbone where a bullet had entered his body, the raw hole leaking purple fluid and exposing wiring and synthetic tissue, he let the blue lights flicker across his face for added effect, "you can try and take us on, but to get to them you'll have to go through me." He stepped in front of the two humans to shield them."

The three intruders backed away, "What the fuck are you dude?" One of the men muttered.

"Designed to be unstoppable." Dorian replied. "Now, lay your weapons on the floor and go, before I start demanding what else you've got."

One of the men threw down a hunting knife, the other just held his hands up in surrender. The woman with the shotgun was more reluctant, but after a thought, she dropped that too. "Come on," she said to the men, trying to salvage some semblance of authority. "Let's get outta here."

Dorian held his weapon raised until he was sure the small group of scavengers had gone, when he lowered it he staggered and nearly fell.

"Woah!" John said, holding his arms up to stop to steady the android. "You okay?"

Dorian shook his head, "My battery is spent. Used the last few percent to scan the area, made sure they're really gone."

"Okay, you need to sit down before you fall down. Or better yet, lie down." John gave a big sweeping gesture at his little engineering project. "Your chariot awaits Princess!"

Dorian frowned wearily and got onto the sled. "You'll be there to wake me up, right?" He asked, suddenly sounding concerned. His voice was small, reminding John of a worried child.

"Yeah buddy," John promised, strapping him on with the bungy cords and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You've done good, now leave the rest to us."

Dorian nodded and then suddenly his body went stiff, his eyes blank. John patted his shoulder and then swept a hand over his face to close his eyes. John knew better, but still it was a difficult moment, he knew how much Dorian feared death, and in a way, this was what it felt like. It was a long road home and he was under no illusions as to how difficult it would be, but his determination to get Sandra and Dorian back would be the driving force behind it.

"You ready?" Sandra asked him, breaking into his thoughts. She was stood above him patiently, hands on her hips. When he nodded, she handed him the climbing harness and he shuffled into it before allowing her to give him a hand and haul him upright.

"When I was in recovery I read this book," he started, "it was about the first Antarctic explorers, you know, Scott and Shackleton? They used to man-haul their sleds for hundreds of miles, in freezing conditions, over mountains and glaciers. There was this one guy, he was just a regular sailor, but he went on three trips to the Antarctic and each time, he managed to save his teammates lives when they got into trouble. He must have been just as cold and tired as they were, but his strength and determination got him through, and brought the others home despite all the odds."

Sandra smiled, "Sounds like a good book." She slipped into her own harness and cinched the buckles. John readied his crutch and together they started to walk, it took some effort but with a big heave, the sled started to roll and once they got it going they found it easier to keep the momentum.

"So, seriously, there was nothing in any of the shops huh?" John asked after they'd settled into a slow rhythm.

Sandra shook her head. "I found some line and some fishing hooks, no rods. Your father used to fish, right? If we get to a lake you might be able to catch something."

John shook his head. "I can try but I only went fishing once, and the only thing I caught was hypothermia."

"Dammit. Then I don't know what else to say. There was nothing else, the place had been cleaned out years ago."

John readjusted his grip on his crutch, "We'll manage."

"What do we do with them now?" Sandra asked, staring down forlornly at the two scrawny rabbits that were sat between them.

John pulled out the hunting knife and hovered it over one of the little bodies, hesitating. He took a deep breath and shoved the knife in, slitting its body down the middle with a grimace.

"Eurgh!" Sandra shirked away. "I have no idea how people used to do this for sport."

"I know, but I'm starving." John agreed, slicing the meat out of the carcass and handing the bloody lumps of flesh to Sandra. She picked it up between her fingers, with distaste, carefully threading the pieces of meat onto a sharpened stick. John couldn't even remember the last time he'd eaten anything, let alone a proper meal. The jeans he was wearing had been borrowed anyway, but he was having an even harder time stopping them from falling down now, after his captivity he'd moved in a notch on his belt, and that morning he'd had to make a new hole with his knife. He hadn't mentioned his weight-loss to Sandra, it was easy to hide in their big coats, but he guessed that she would have lost some too. That worried him, the petite woman didn't have much to lose in the first place, and they were still a long way from home.

He finished scraping out the last pieces of meat, disappointed that the bullet that had been used to kill it had destroyed a large portion of it. He passed the last of the meat to Sandra and started on the next one. Sandra stoked the fire she'd built and settled their first rabbit kebab over the flame.

"You know, I think I might go vegetarian when we get back." She commented.

"Hell no!" John countered. "I'm dying for a steak. What's the first meal you're going to eat when you get back?"

"My mom's lasagne."

"Yeah," the meat was starting to cook and it was making John's mouth water. "Forget the steak, I want your mom's lasagne! I'm guessing the vegetarianism is going to start after that then?" he teased. He finished field-dressing the second rabbit and the meat was stuck on another stick to cook.

The pair of them sat close to the fire and basked in its warmth. John wiped his bloody hands on his already filthy jeans and held his hands up to the heat. The wind had picked up over the last few days and his hands felt frozen, his fingers had gone white where the blood had stopped flowing to them. Sandra's hands had been faring a bit better as she'd been able to keep them snug in her pockets, but he'd needed his to work on his crutch. He hated that crutch with a passion. It had given him blisters on his hands and under his arm where his weight rested, it sent him off balance and his back hurt from the awkward twist he had to perform to use it. He needed two really, but with the bullet wound in his other shoulder, he hadn't been able to put any weight on that arm. The harness chaffed too for that matter, they'd been caught in a rainstorm a few days ago, soaked through and it was so cold that they hadn't yet dried out. Things were pretty miserable but as they tucked into their scrawny bits of rabbit, John couldn't help but let out a groan of pleasure. They ate without talking, each one just enjoying satisfying their hunger.

"How far do you think we've got to go?" John said eventually.

"With the sled, we're only managing about fifteen miles a day. If we carry on at that pace, another ten or eleven days, but I think we're slowing down a bit. Could be longer."

"We'll just have to walk for longer." John said, rubbing at his aching calf absentmindedly.

Sandra shook her head, looking totally defeated. She looked as though she was about to argue it but in the end just said, "Yeah."

It happened in slow motion, but he was still unable to do anything about it. The end of his crutch skidded, he put too much of his weight on it and suddenly he was toppling forward and unable to stop himself, he held out his good arm to break his fall but suddenly he was face first on the cracked tarmac in the pouring rain, the sled continuing to roll forward until it came to a halt slamming into the stump of his thigh.

"John!" He heard Sandra call as she fell to her knees beside him, but he hurt too much to respond.

He rolled over painfully until he was laying on his back. "Fuck!" He whispered, staring up at the sky. The icy rain fell heavily on his face, masking any tears of exhaustion and agony that may or may not have also been present.

"God, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Give me a minute." He replied through gritted teeth. It wasn't the first time he'd fallen, but it was happening with more frequency now. He grabbed his hated crutch and struggled upright. Sandra hovered over him, ready to catch him if he fell. He gave her a look that was supposed to be reassuring. He took a few more steps but as the sled started to roll again it changed his balance and he was just too tired to stay upright. This time though, Sandra was there to grab him. She guided him down to sit on the corner of the sled, too tired to keep him upright by herself.

"Okay, you're done for the day." She said wearily.

John shook his head. "There's a few hours of daylight left."

"Captain's orders, we're camping here." She said, slipping out of her harness and trudging off into the forest by the side of the road, she was gone for long enough for John to start to worry. He was about to go after her when she came back, storming through the trees, looking furious.

"Hey, you okay?" John asked, standing up as she came back over to him.

"No. I can't find a goddamn thing to build a shelter." She huffed, and when she looked up at him she burst into tears.

"Hey, hey." John said soothingly, grabbing her and wrapping her in his arms. "We'll be fine."

"I'm sorry." She mumbled into his chest, her head only reaching that high.

"Don't be sorry, we'll manage." He guided her over to the ditch at the side of the road, pulling Dorian with them. Once there he tugged Dorian behind a bush and then slipped down so that he was sat in the muddy ditch, his back resting against the bank. He held out his arm as an invite and she got in and joined him, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. "We've come so far, we'll get there." He promised.

Sandra sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, wiping the tears away with her hand. "I'm alright, really." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as him. "I'm just tired, and sore, and worried about you."

"Me? I'm fine."

"You a terrible liar John Kennex."

He tucked her in closer to him and tugged her hood forward so it better protected her face from the rain. "Get some sleep," He told her. "Things will be better in the morning."

"We're here!" She said excitedly. All her tiredness seemed to dissipate and she would have broken into a run if she hadn't been strapped to the sled. John smiled at her change in mood, she'd been talking about this place for days and now that they were actually there, her enthusiasm was infectious. The town was a desolate suburban hell, the kind that John hated even when it wasn't in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. If all looked the same to him but at least Sandra had seemed about to tell the difference between the houses. She approached the garage of a house that looked like it had stood the test of time better than most, and fished into the front pocket Dorian's jeans, drawing out a key. She unlocked the padlock and with a flourish opened the shutters.

John's jaw dropped at the sight of all the food lining the shelves and he almost lost his balance in shock. "Unbelievable." He muttered, stepping inside and scanning the labels on all the tins.

"We packed up a load of it to take with us but our car got stolen." Sandra explained, going over to the back of the room and finding a gas stove. "What do you want first? Coffee or food?"

"Both? All of it?"

Sandra scanned the shelves. "You think these tins of Mac 'n Cheese are still good?"

John grinned, "I don't think I care." He made sure Dorian was under the shelter and then stepped out of his harness. "Is that an old CB radio?" He made his way over to the ancient device and flicked the switch on, twirling the dial to listen for air traffic. Unfortunately, they were rarely used anymore and he couldn't pick up anything.

"No one uses them anymore." Sandra said, sat by the stove, stirring a tin of pasta with a fork as it heated on the small gas burner. "There's no one listening."

"When I did that attachment to Counter Terrorism they had their MXs scanning all radio frequencies to try to pick up on chatter. InSyndicate and a few others would use CB to relay messages until they realised we were listening in."

"You think they're still checking the channels?"

"New groups pop up all the time, it'd be silly not to. We just have to make sure we're heard."

John picked up the microphone and pressed the talk button. "This is Detective John Kennex and Captain Sandra Maldonado of the twelfth precinct, Detroit. Tell Detective Valerie Stahl we are following the route and heading home." He changed the dial incrementally and repeated the phrase. "This is Detective Kennex and Captain Maldonado of the twelfth precinct, Detroit. Tell Detective Valerie Stahl we are following the route and headed home." He changed the dial again and repeated the phrase.

They ended up eating their meal in the garage while John kept at the radio, using the same message over and over on each little turn of the dial. He didn't even notice that Sandra had left until she came back out of the side door that lead into the house. She'd stripped out of her wet clothes and had a blanket wrapped tightly around her. John looked down at her bare feet and noticed they were a mess of blood and blisters. They looked really painful, but didn't comment, his own body was much the same in places.

"Come in." She pleaded. "We can try again tomorrow." She took his hand and lead him inside.

She'd set up camp in the living room where she'd lit a fire in the hearth and had dragged an old double mattress and pile of blankets down in front of it. Her wet clothes were hanging on chairs to dry out in the warm room.

"Strip and I'll hang your wet clothes up." Sandra offered.

"Really?" John raised a cheeky eyebrow, "Dinner and an invite to your bed? I'm not normally that kind of guy."

Sandra rolled her eyes. "You can keep your boxers on. Anyway, don't flatter yourself, you stink."

"You hardly smelling of roses either." He countered. But he paused, not wanting to strip off in front of his captain in his current state.

Sandra sensed his discomfort and turned away. John sat down on the edge of the mattress and pulled his coat off. It was difficult to peel out of his wet top as it was stuck to his skin and he let out a hiss as he tried to manoeuvre his wounded shoulder. Sandra reacted to the noise and turned around and let out a gasp. John froze, knowing this was the first time she'd seen the full extent of his wounds.

"Let me help." She offered, easing his shirt from him before reaching down to unlace his muddy sneaker. He shuffled awkwardly out of his jeans. The bandage around his raw stump had come a bit unravelled and was discoloured with blood and pus. He felt exposed and pulled a blanket around his battered body before trying to fix the tattered dressing.

"There was a huge first aid kit when we got here, but we took it with us. We should have left something behind I'm sorry."

"Few more days won't make a difference now." He pointed out, laying down on his good shoulder, facing the fire and tucking his legs up to his body.

He was asleep in seconds and dreaming of Anna. When he awoke, he reached out his hand across the mattress and found it empty. At first, he was looking for his ex-girlfriend but by the time he realised the bed was empty, he was aware enough to know it should have been Sandra beside him. Concerned by her absence, he hauled himself upright and went to go look for her. He didn't have to look far, finding her in the garage. She was at the CB radio, repeating the same phrase over and over, picking up from where John had left off.

She noticed him there and turned to him. "How do we know they've heard us?"

John shrugged, leaning his shoulder against the frame. "We won't. We have to have faith."

"Faith in an MX, John Kennex, you're a changed man."

"Yeah well," he shrugged, "you need to get some sleep."

"Soon." She promised.

John nodded and went back to bed, listening as Sandra went back to her task. "This is Captain Maldonado of the twelfth precinct, Detroit. Tell Detective Valerie Stahl we are following the route and heading home."

A good night's sleep had worked wonders and they'd set off with food in their stomachs and a renewed sense of determination, but a few hours in the harnesses and their aches and pains were making themselves known again. It was raining again, and so it hadn't been long before their clothes had been soaked through again. They'd not really spoken to each other all day, both lost in their thoughts of making it home. It got to about midday when Sandra caught John's attention. John looked up, he'd been concentrating on moving forward slowly and steadily and not really paying attention to anything else. He heard it once his attention had been drawn though, the sound of a heavy vehicle moving towards them.

He glanced around frantically, looking for cover, wondering how they were going to hide Dorian without getting the sled stuck in the mud.

"We can't." Sandra said, interrupting his thoughts. "What if it's them and they miss us?"

"What if it's not?" John asked, but he resisted the urge to hide, readying his stance and drawing his handgun.

The vehicle came into view, a large black 4x4, John squinted into the distance but he couldn't see through the heavy rain into the cab. He raised his gun, just in case, his heart pounding. But then the passenger window was lowered and a smiling face with long dark hair stuck her head out of the window and gave a shout. "John! Captain!"

"Val!" John was amazed, lowering his weapon. His knee felt weak with relief and he sank to the ground. The 4x4 pulled up and had barely come to a halt when Valerie leapt out and ran to them. She threw an arm round Sandra and then sank to her knees, bringing the Captain with her so that she could envelope John with her other arm.

"Oh my God! When we stopped hearing from you, we thought the worst had happened." She said.

Richard Paul got out of the driver's side of the vehicle and approached them. "What happened to Dorian?" He asked, looking at the android on the sled.

"He's fine, he's just out of charge." John said, "I knew you cared." He added teasingly. Sandra reached out and hugged him too.

Richard gave a wave to the 4x4 and a couple of MXs appeared, "Get him in the car." He ordered the MXs, who then unstrapped the DRN and picked him up as though he weighed little and took him back to the car.

Valerie wrapped her arm around John and helped him up, but now that he was safe, it was as though all the energy that had he'd used to get them this far was gone and he collapsed against her. Richard rushed to his other side and slung John's arm across his shoulder.

"Come on John." Valerie smiled. "Let's get you home."

Authors Note: The book that John read during his recovery is called The Unsung Hero: Tom Crean Antarctic Explorer by Michael Smith. It's a good read, especially if you need a bit of motivation. Also, for those of you who don't remember the early 1980's, 'The Littlest Hobo' was a dog who wandered the world and had adventures. You can find the theme song on youtube.