In the morning Abby awoke first and carefully crept out of bed so as not to wake Ellie. Her intention was to prepare for her upcoming day trip, but she belatedly realized that most of her pre-trip chores involved her weapons, and she no longer had those. Annoyed, she instead decided to start breakfast so that it would be ready when Ellie awoke. When she stepped out of the RV into the grey pre-dawn light, she found a small basket covered in a white handkerchief sitting on the table outside their door. Inside the basket was a freshly-baked loaf of bread, half a dozen eggs, and some cured bacon - a veritable feast in Abby's eyes, who was so used to road rations. It felt downright decadent to have both apple pie and fresh bread within the same 24 hour period. She wanted to wait and eat with Ellie, but she couldn't resist breaking off one of the ends of the loaf and stuffing it in her mouth. It was still warm from the oven, and she moaned with pleasure at the taste of it.

"Excuse you, but that sound is reserved for my ears alone," came a sleepy voice from behind her, and Abby turned and grinned guiltily at the tousle-haired and pajama-clad Ellie who was glaring at her.

"Sorry," she mumbled, her mouth still full of bread. "It's so good, though." She ripped off another piece and held it up to Ellie's mouth, who bit into it.

"Edna's," Ellie commented as she chewed. "I'd recognize that taste anywhere. Good to know the old bird's still kicking. I'll have to drop in for a visit."

"Was she a friend of yours?"

"I mean, as much as anyone here was. She runs the bakery near the saloon. Her nephew is the kid who bought us dinner last night - James. But he was so young the last time I saw him, I doubt he even remembered me."

"I bet he did," Abby said as she finished getting a fire going and got out their cast iron pan to cook the eggs. "Once you meet Ellie, you never forget her."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "It's too early for you to be a cheeseball."

"No cheese until after sunrise. Got it."

They had just finished eating when John appeared, strolling along the road as though he hadn't a care in the world. He was unshaven and dressed in worn jeans and a flannel short, and he had a cowboy hat on his head that he tipped at them as he approached. "Mornin', ladies," he said.

"Morning," Abby replied.

"Glad to see yer already up and about. Woulda been real awkward if I'da had to bust in yer trailer."

Neither Abby or Ellie were sure if he was kidding. They exchanged a brief glance, and then Abby decided it was best to just move on. "Well, we're early risers," she said as she got to her feet. "I just have one thing to take care of and then I'm all yours."

"Whatever it is, we can handle it fer ya," John called after her as she disappeared inside the RV.

"Not this, you can't," said Abby, and she came back outside with a needle she'd prepped the night before. "Sit."

"The hell's that?" said John, eyeing the needle skeptically.

"Vaccine."

"Fer what?"

Abby stared at him. "Really?"

"Wait, yer tellin' me Maria was bein' serious 'bout all that bullshit?"

"Not sure exactly what she told you, but yes, we're here to make everyone in Jackson immune to the cordyceps brain infection."

John didn't seem to know what to say. After a long moment of silence, he cleared his throat and said, "Where do you want me?"

Abby gestured to a nearby lawn chair and John reluctantly sat. "Roll up your sleeve for me? All the way up to the shoulder." He did so, and Abby rubbed his arm with an alcohol swab before injecting the vaccine with practiced swiftness. It bled a little, so she pressed a cotton ball on the spot and then taped it with a bit of medical tape. "There. All done."

"Just like that, huh?" said John gruffly, and Abby realized that there were tears in his eyes. It wasn't the first time she'd seen someone get emotional upon administration of the vaccine, but she hadn't been expecting it from him. The handkerchief that had been overtop of their breakfast basket was laying on the table nearby, and she picked it up and handed it to him. He took it wordlessly and wiped at his eyes, then he cleared his throat once more and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"It's Abby."

"That yer God-given name?"

"God didn't name me. My father did."

"An' he named you Abby?"

"He named me Abigail. Abigail Anderson."

"Well, thank you very much for what you just done, Abigail Anderson," said John sincerely. "Didn't think I'd ever live to see the day."

"Neither did I, for a while," Abby replied. "I think a lot of people kind of gave up hoping."

"They'll be kicking themselves when you ladies roll into town, won't they?" John rose from his chair and rolled the arm that Abby had just injected. "I feel like a million bucks. Let's go get bit and try this baby out, huh?"

Abby and Ellie both burst into surprised laughter. "Hey now, don't get too excited," Ellie said from where she was still seated by the fire. "I've been bitten multiple times, and that shit hurts!"

"They don't heal great, either," Abby added. "Requires some aftercare."

"Well, shit," said John, disappointed. "Never mind then. I ain't trying to put lotion on my skin twelve damn times a day just so's I can heal pretty."

"We can breathe some spores, though, if you want," Abby suggested.

"We just might do that, yeah. You ready to get goin', then?"

"Let me say goodbye to my wife first." She went over to Ellie and ducked down for a quick kiss goodbye. "Good luck today."

"You too. Be safe."

"I will." Abby gave her a smile, then turned and joined John, and the two of them started off towards the front gates. As they walked, she tried to remember the last time she'd spent an entire day away from Ellie. It had to have been when she'd been locked up on the island after one of her many fights with Liz. The idea that she was leaving Ellie alone in such a precarious situation made her deeply uncomfortable. She was so preoccupied by her own thoughts that she didn't realize that John was talking to her. "I'm sorry, what was that?" she said.

"I asked what type 'o gun you like best. We got all sorts."

"Doesn't matter," said Abby. "I'm pretty well-rounded."

"Alright then," said John easily, obviously pleased with her answer.

The stables and the armory were right next to each other, and soon enough Abby had a rifle slung over her shoulder and a revolver strapped to her waist, and not long after that she and John were riding out the front gates on horseback. Abby's horse was a lovely chestnut brown mare named Acorn, and John rode a black-and-white stallion named Thor. The sun had finally crested over the mountains, and it was quickly turning into a lovely spring day. She and John rode in comfortable silence for almost an hour, and Abby had to admit that she was enjoying herself. If given the choice, she'd pick riding a horse through beautiful nature over sticking needles into people who hated her guts any day. In general she loved her work with the Fireflies, and she would always be grateful that she was a part of the team that was changing the world, but there was only so much animosity from strangers she could take. She only wished she could have Ellie by her side - or, better yet, in the saddle with her. Yeah, that would definitely be her idea of time well spent.

After a while, John held Thor back so that he and Abby could ride side-by-side. "I must say, I was glad when I heard I got to take you instead o' that little lady of yours. She don't look like much of anything compared to you," he commented.

Abby laughed. "She's stronger than she looks."

"Stronger than you?"

"I wouldn't go that far."

John gave a little chuckle. "Careful what you say, Miss Abigail. I might decide to pass it along to her and then ye'll be in the doghouse."

"You can tell her whatever you want. We don't have that kind of marriage."

"And what kind of marriage would that be?"

"The kind where the two people don't actually like each other. Ellie and I get along great. We don't keep secrets and we don't piss each other off. And we definitely don't put each other in the fucking doghouse."

"How long y'all been married?"

"Just over three years, but we've been together over seven."

"An' how long's it been since the last time y'all tried to kill each other?"

Abby smiled wryly. "Longer."

"Most married folk wanna kill each other after they git married, not before it."

"Most married folk are doing it wrong. Ellie and I have already hurt each other so badly, it's pretty unlikely we'll ever go through anything that bad again." After a second she added, "Well, not as a direct result of us murdering each other's loved ones, anyway."

"Lotta folks are pretty upset with with Ellie for bringin' you around here. But most folks just wanna introduce you to a couple'a bullets."

Shifting slightly in her saddle, Abby made sure she had quick access to her revolver in case this conversation was about to turn south.

But John continued: "Not me though. Personally I never got that whole 'eye fer an eye' bullshit. Seems like a big damn waste'a energy to me. Sometimes people kill other people. Gettin' revenge for it ain't gonna make them people any less dead. S'ppose my feeling that way's why Maria wants me to babysit you."

"She said you were a murderer, too."

"I am at that," John said. "Who ain't, these days? But I got no beef with you. I never met Joel or that Jesse fella, an' if you hadn'ta shot Tommy someone else woulda. That there was a man with a death wish if I ever met one."

"From the way Ellie tells it, he was different before he went to Seattle. Nicer. Less bitter."

John shrugged. "If ya ask me, that ain't your fault. You didn't ask him to come chase ya."

To Abby, this argument was absurd. Of course it was her fault. She would never allow herself to think otherwise. Every single bad thing that had happened to the people of Jackson had been started when she had failed to let her thirst for vengeance against Joel Miller go. If Abby had never come to Jackson, none of it would have happened. And she lived with the guilt that came along with that every day. "I don't agree," she said simply.

"'Course ya don't. If ya didn't your wife never woulda given ya the time of day, 'cause y'all would still be tryin' to kill each other. Funny how all these things work out, huh? You got all your guilt, but you also got the kinda marriage where you still kiss your wife goodbye before you go somewhere. And ya know what? Jackson's doin' pretty good too. People miss their friends, sure, but life went on just like it always does. The Lord works in mysterious ways, Miss Abigail, and I reckon maybe it ain't man's place to question His plan."

This didn't particularly comfort Abby. She had seen far too much of the damage religion could do in the Seraphites. But Lev had explained that the actual text of the Prophet's words were being taken to the extremes, and John certainly didn't seem the type to take his belief that far, so his faith was probably harmless. At the same time, though, she didn't want John to get the wrong idea about her, so she said, "I don't believe in god."

"That's fine," said John casually. "He'll still look after you anyways."

Shaking her head and chuckling, Abby said, "If you say so." They rode in silence for a while longer, and then Abby realized that they weren't just riding around aimlessly like she'd thought. John was leading her to a path that would take them towards a pass in the mountain range. "Where are we going?"

"Scouts killed a couple'a real fresh runners up this way last week. Usually means travelers since we keep the place pretty tidy. We're gonna go see if we can find 'em."

"I heard you guys had some trouble a while back. Amanda said someone was infected inside the city walls."

John nodded. "A'yup. We got sloppy and we paid the price. Lost a good man. Now Maria wants to know if anything bigger than a fuckin' raccoon comes through this valley."

"Alright," said Abby. As they rode along she cast frequent glances at her companion, burning with curiosity. Finally she couldn't stop herself from asking: "So what's your story? You must be relatively new to Jackson since you never met Joel or Jesse."

"I am," John replied. "I come here 'bout seven years ago, not long before Tommy died."

"Alone?"

"No m'am. I was part of a pretty big group. There was 'bout twenty of us. One of 'em was Amanda."

"Oh yeah?"

"A'yup. We was all living in a town down in Amarillo, Texas, then we had an outbreak of infection. Our little group was all that made it out alive. "

"I'm sorry. That sounds rough."

"It was."

"Are you married?"

"Was. Had a son, too. But they was some'a ones that didn't make it."

The pain was evident in his gruff voice, and Abby suddenly understood why getting the vaccine had been so emotional for him. A wave of sympathy swept through her, and she blinked away the prickle of tears behind her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said again.

"Only time I ever questioned my faith."

"I can only imagine. I'm sorry for asking. I suppose it was a little invasive."

"Naw," said John. "I don't never want to forget my pain. There's somethin' my mama used to say: Grief is love that has no place to go. It's there to remind me how blessed I was to know 'em."

"I like that," said Abby thoughtfully. "I think a lot of people could stand to hear that."

"Yes m'am, they sure could. But take my advice, youngin': You keep rememberin' to kiss your wife goodbye, 'cause one day you won't be able to do it no more."

Abby shivered at the thought of it. She'd come close to losing Ellie far too many times in the last seven years. "I will," she said. Privately she couldn't help but wonder which would be worse: Losing Ellie and having to go through that pain, or dying with the knowledge that Ellie would have to do it instead. This is a fucked up line of thought, Abby, and you should knock it off right now, she told herself sternly.

She was saved from it a moment later when something caught her eye through the treeline, and she pulled Acorn to a stop to squint at it. "Got somethin'?" John asked.

"Maybe." Abby dismounted from her horse and draped the lead over a nearby branch. Behind her, John did the same. They trudged through the forest towards what Abby had seen - a circle of white stones in the grass, the remains of a campfire. "Someone was camping here," she said, crouching down to examine it. "It's about a day old." She rose and looked around the area, noticing several spots where the grass was flat. "Looks like four people were sleeping here."

Impressed, John said, "So yer brains, too, not just brawn?"

"My dad taught me how to track."

"Good skill to learn. Any idea where they went?"

Turning in a slow circle, Abby looked at the underbrush around them. "Could only be that way," she said, pointing. "Every other way would have left a clear trail because they would have had to push through those trees."

"You sure?"

"My dad used to say that sometimes the absence of a trail is the trail itself. That was the hardest thing for me to learn about tracking. I don't exactly have a reputation for being very subtle, myself."

"Naw, me neither," said John. "Welp, I s'pose we oughta bring the horses and follow 'em."

"Just you and me?"

"Got a problem with that?"

"No, but I thought you'd maybe want to bring a little more backup in case we run into trouble."

"Stretched a little thin today, thanks to you and yer lady. Maria wants to make sure we don't have no trouble with folks pushing and line jumpin'. Barely got enough folk to man the damn gates."

"Alright then," said Abby. Out of habit, she drew her revolver and checked it, then did the same with her rifle. "Let's do it."

"Look'it little miss soldier woman. This ain't your first rodeo, huh?" said John as they walked back to the horses and re-mounted.

"Not by a long shot," laughed Abby as the two of them began carefully navigating through the forest on horseback. "Between the Fireflies and the WLF - the group I was with in Seattle - I've done my fair share of patrolling."

"Well, shit, maybe you oughta be the sheriff and I should be the tagalong, then."

"Nah," said Abby. "We're not sticking around. Once everyone's got the vaccine, we're gone. Plus I thought it was Ellie that Maria wanted for that job."

"It was indeed. She held out hope for a while, but eventually she figured she wasn't comin' back and she moved along to me. I'm doin' a shit job of it, but she won't let me quit."

"What do you mean, you're doing a shit job?"

"A fella got infected inside the walls on my watch. Cain't do much worse than that."

Abby frowned. "That's not your fault, though. They hid the fact that someone in their group was infected. How often does that happen these days? Most people know by now that there's nothing anyone can do."

"Been wonderin' 'bout that myself," said John. "Maria tossed 'em out so fast, I never got a chance to ask 'em what the fuck they was thinking."

They reached a point where the forest was thin enough that it became difficult to tell where the trail had gone. Abby got down off her horse and walked around a little, carefully scanning the ground and the trees for anything amiss. John watched her from his saddle, keeping silent so as to let her concentrate. Eventually she spotted some cracked twigs on the side of a bush, and beyond that there was some flattened grass. As she got back up on Acorn's back she said, "That way." She clicked her tongue and led the way, John following just behind her. "It's good we're doing this today. This trail could easily be gone by tomorrow. It's already getting hard to find."

"The direction we're headed, I don't think it's gonna matter none."

"Why?"

"We're gonna lose 'em soon anyway."

Before Abby could ask a follow-up question, they broke through the edge of the forest, and there in front of them was a highway. It was overgrown with grass and broken up like every other pre-outbreak highway Abby had ever seen, but John was right - it would be impossible to tell which way the group of people had gone. "Shit," she said. "They came by road. Smart." John pulled up next to her on Thor, and she looked over at him. "What do you want to do?"

"Well, the way I figure it, they coulda only done three things. Crossed, gone north, or gone south. See if you can find a trail on the other side, then we'll flip a coin and go in one direction."

Abby gave him a wry smile. "I've got coins, if you need one."

"See that? Yer made for this job."

Once Abby confirmed that there was no visible trail on the other side of the four-lane highway, she pulled out one of her favorite quarters - Virginia, because it always made her think of her father - and flipped it expertly. It landed heads-up, so they started their horses on a leisurely trot north, both keeping their eyes peeled as they went. "I don't like being so exposed," Abby commented, squinting up at the sky. There were mountains along the west side of the highway, with ridges that were close enough that someone with a high-powered rifle could easily snipe them.

"Them mountains is further than they look," said John. "We'll be fine."

But Abby wasn't so sure. In addition to keeping watch on their immediate surroundings, she frequently cast long looks at the ridge, scouring it for any movement or telltale unusual glints of light. "Where does this highway lead, anyway?" she asked John.

"North," grunted John.

Rolling her eyes, Abby said, "Ya don't say?"

"More mountains, a town called Moose, more forest…"

"I'm sorry, did you say the town is called Moose?"

"We sure as hell didn't name it," said John defensively. "It was called that pre-outbreak day."

"You sure about that? You're not local. Maybe you've been lied to."

"Could be. But that'd be a right stupid thing to lie about."

"I guess I can't be critical. My hometown is called Beaver."

John gave a barking laugh. "You sure you ain't a believer? 'Cause that name sounds kinda prophetic to me."

Abby groaned in annoyance. "For fuck's sake. Ellie makes the same damn joke, no matter how many times I remind her that I was straight before I met her. Besides, I thought you religious-types were supposed to have some kind of problem with gay people. How come it doesn't bother you?"

"It used to," John admitted. "My pastor was sure to teach me that bein' gay meant bein' condemned to eternal fire and brimstone. But then I had my boy, and then he told me he was gay. Changed my mind on that pretty much right away, 'cause I cain't imagine him windin' up anywhere but the kingdom of heaven. 'Sides, this world is so messed up, how could addin' any kinda love to this place be anythin' other than a service to the Lord?"

A warm smile crept over Abby's lips. "You're a pretty good guy, John. I'm glad Maria stuck me with you."

"Yer not so bad yerself, Miss Abigail, no matter what the other folk in town might think."

"You know you don't have to call me 'Miss Abigail' all the time, right? Most people just call me Abby."

"I ain't most people," replied John succinctly, making it clear he had no intention of calling her Abby.

It amused Abby, and her amusement about it surprised her. The only other person who'd ever called her Abigail was Owen - and sometimes her father as a joke. Since Owen was gone, no one had used the name in years. Where she might have thought it would cause her heartache to hear it on someone else's lips, it instead brought a rush of fond memories. It made her think of visiting Owen in the aquarium and shaking his home-made moonshine to get a rise out of him, and of the easy companionship that had existed between them even after their somewhat messy breakup. And it made her think of evenings spent trudging through Salt Lake City with her father - or, more accurately, chasing after her father - before everything in her life had gotten so messed up. The memories hurt, yes, but it was a good kind of pain. Love with nowhere to go, she thought. Guess I really am healing.

They continued to travel north for several more hours, sometimes riding in silence, sometimes exchanging pleasant conversation. Eventually they got far enough that they had to turn back if they wanted to be able to make it back to town by sundown. "Well, we had a 50/50 shot at it," John said. "We can come back tomorrow and try the other way."

"Sounds like a plan," Abby agreed, and they turned their horses back towards Jackson. "What are the chances that this group is the same group that Maria kicked out?"

"Pretty damn high, I'd wager," said John. "Not like we get a whole lotta travelers out this way."

"I wonder what they want," mused Abby.

"What do ya mean?"

"I mean, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense for them to be hanging around as long as they have unless there's something they're specifically after in Jackson. They could have moved on by now, but they didn't."

"Could be they just want a place to hang their hats."

"What did they say they wanted when they first showed up at the gates?"

"Good question," said John. "I seem to recall they said they was just passin' through."

"So why the fuck haven't they passed through yet?"

John shrugged. "Beats me. We'll have to be sure and ask 'em when we find 'em tomorrow."

Abby smiled and said: "I like your optimism."