Sally coughed violently into a tissue before spitting out the loosened blood clots onto the wooden floor. She had tried her best to hide her illness from all radio communication with the group; however, the virus had taken its toll on her body and she was unable to man the post anymore. Sonic, Antoine, and various others were in a drug-induced coma. Rotor was uncertain what organ damage had happened; sedating them and putting them on makeshift ventilators to take the stress off their bodies seemed to help somewhat. It became a matter of treating the symptoms than the actual disease or, as it became more appropriately known, this "biological weapon." It was little solace to know that Robotnik was suffering the same as the Freedom Fighters.

Looking up at her intravenous drip, the princess sighed and leaned back into her pillow. A small breeze crept through the window and passed quietly over her canopy bed. On the nightstand next to her was an extension radio Rotor had wired up so she would be able to hear all communication without having to get out of bed. Rotor took to manning the radio while whoever left that was able-bodied tended to the sick and dying.

It had been seventy-two hours since Wade radioed that the group was leaving for the desert, specifically the Beauregard farm. Sally had heard that it had once been lush and green with much vegetation, though now was arid and sparse. Many packs of vagrants and undesirables such as pedophiles, thieves, and druggies found whatever shelter they could for indeterminate amounts of time before moving on to the next area.

The radio crackled: "AVALANCHE to Overlord."

"Overlord copies," Rotor's voice responded.

"We're about two-hundred klicks east of the farm… should be there in two hours."

"Overlord copies all."

Sally placed her head back onto her pillow. Even amongst all the illness around her and her friends' condition, she couldn't stop thinking about how Tails and Bunnie. One was in the process of losing his innocence while the other was going to be faced with possibly killing what little family she had left. The princess closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

Tails slouched in the backseat of the "high multipurpose wheeled vehicle"—as Jessie referred to it, based on old schematics and blueprints that the archives had managed to turn up—with his rifle between his knees pointed towards the ceiling. The huge, four-door beige-colored vehicle was in rough shape and barely cranked, yet managed to make it out of the village and towards the desert area. The rough leather seats had duct tape to keep the stuffing in among various tears, the console in the front barely lit, and the headlights flickered whenever the slightest bump was encountered. Tifa was immediately to Tails' left with Jessie on the opposite side of her. In the covered cargo area behind the backseat Barret, Biggs, and Wedge kept a sentinel watch over the rear. Wade drove while Bunnie rode in the passenger seat.

The young fox sighed: his injuries had healed along the way to the farm to the point where he could at least use the bathroom without agony. A burning rage filled him ever since he regained consciousness from the other night at Lien-Da's camp: being violated by Drago and a galvanized pipe tends to lend one to a dimension of pissed off not normally attainable. Tifa looked down at him and smiled weakly.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

Tails looked up with a blank expression.

"I guess… I guess I'm okay…"

The slender lady put her arm around his shoulders and gave him a tight squeeze.

"It'll be okay, sweetie," Tifa reassured him.

"Is… is it normal… that…"

Tails trailed off midsentence.

Tifa tilted her head slightly and asked, "What's normal, sweetie?"

Tails swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

"…that I want to kill them…"

"Absolutely," Wade said abruptly without taking his eyes off the road. "And you will get your chance, son. In fact… everyone, get ready, we're here."

Jessie keyed her microphone, saying, "AVALANCHE to Overlord: we've arrived at the Beauregard farm, standby."

"Overlord copies all," Rotor replied.

The vehicle rolled slowly to a small forest patch overlooking the homestead. Wade turned to Tails and said, "I need you to provide overwatch for us."

Tails gave a silent nod before opening the door and sliding out. He walked into the dead trees and vegetation, each step emitting a loud crunch under his boots. The vehicle pulled around and started to slowly approach the back of the homestead. It was a dilapidated wooden house; the windows had been boarded up and various signs prohibiting trespassing were posted. The front door seemed to be the only viable entrance and exit as it was not blocked by anything. Grass grew very sparsely in the area giving the impression that at one time this was a very well irrigated and kept farm; now it was a mere shadow of its former self.

Tails rested his rifle on an old stump and adjusted his scope. Once satisfied with his view, he placed his finger slowly onto the trigger. It was then he felt the presence of another being behind him. Before the vulpine could react, though, the sound of a hammer cocking filled his ears. Tails held his breath.

"Take your finger off that trigger, son," said the voice behind him with an accent that sounded strangely familiar. "And get your hands in the air."

Tails stared straight ahead for what seemed like an eternity. Something inside of him was changing: his fear was driving a primal urge to stay alive. His mind quickly devised an escape plan, though if it didn't work it would be a plan to get six feet under in a hurry. This was only the second time in his life that he had felt like this—the first was his first disarmament of Wade.

Tails closed his eyes and started to move.