AN - About a week passes between episodes 2.02 and 2.03, so instead of skipping ahead I decided to write a little something. Hope you like :)

Mentions of Grace Mason, who of course belongs to Jem :)

Chapter 15: Get Me Out Of Here

Smoke billowed into the night sky behind the 2nd Mass. The explosion had decimated the bridge, it was in worse shape than it had been after the Beamer attack. There was no quick-fixing it anymore. Captain Weaver stood at the lip of the bridge, surveying the damage and the losses while the 2nd Mass took the time to recover from the ordeal. According to Weaver, they had lost three vehicles, a food truck and six scouts. And though no one was mentioning it, they had also lost Tom Mason.

The Mason children refused to believe their father was gone, and were already preparing to send back a search party as soon as they got the 2nd Mass safely to their next location. Casey sat in the back of Pope's truck with Etta in her lap and Lee beside her cleaning mud out of the chamber in her rifle. Casey watched Matt, who was sitting on the steps of the medbus pulling at the drawstring of his hoodie. Pope had hit the damn button. He should have waited; why didn't he wait? Yes, skitters were coming towards them, but Tom was running for his children. All Casey could think when she looked at Matt was if she had been holding that trigger, she would have waited.

"Man," Lee said following Casey's gaze and looking over at Matt. "That kid's really got that hurt puppy-dog face down, hasn't he?"

"Yeah," Casey said. "But he's a tough guy."

"Way of the world now," Lee blew lodged blades of grass from inside the sight of her rifle. "Look at MB," She nodded down to Etta who was dozing comfortably. "Bridge just blew up in front of her and she's off to sleep."

"Yeah, she's a little maniacal, isn't she?" Casey joked.

"Captain?" Maggie strode passed the truck and up towards Weaver. "We spotted an airport about 5 miles west of here, and no sign of alien activity."

Weaver nodded, then turned and addressed the gathered 2nd Mass. "Sounds like a good place to hole up, lick our wounds. Let's go, people!"

Lee slid off the back of the truck and held Casey by elbow so she could scoot down whilst holding Etta. Casey was about to ask Lee if she wanted to join her on the medbus for the upcoming trip, but Hal's raised voice caught her by such surprise she jumped. She turned in time to see a furious Hal lurching forwards at Pope with a tightly clasped fist ready to punch.

"Whoa, pal!" Pope didn't hit Hal back, but he sure looked ready to. Instead he let Lyle and Anthony hold him back while Grace and Ben each took an arm of their brother.

"You saw a chance to frag him, and you took it!" Hal yelled trying to detangle himself from his sister's restraining arms. "You son of a bitch!"

There was a swishing sound of disturbed water to Casey's right. Ben heard it, too, and aimed his rifle down towards the riverbank. "Who's there?"

"Don't shoot, Ben!" A strained voice called out of the darkness.

Ben lowered his rifle. "Dad?"

Casey drew Etta in closer to her body and peered over the heads of the gathering crowd before her to see Tom Mason limping up the muddy bank of the river. He was drenched from head to toe, missing a shoe and bleeding from a cut to his forehead; but he was on two feet. Ben ran down to meet his father and looped his arm over his neck to help him walk uphill.

"What took you so long?" Hal said with a shaky grin, attacking his father with a fierce hug as soon as he made it up the bank.

"The river sucked off one of my boots," Tom panted as he embraced his eldest son. "Slowed down my stride."

"Dad!" Matt burst forward and latched his arms around his father's waist. Grace was right behind him, all four Mason children smothering their father in a wave of relief.

Casey, herself, felt a twinge of relief in her stomach. Not just for Tom, but for Pope. If Tom hadn't been found, Pope would be facing four extremely angry Masons who knew how to handle a weapon; Casey knew who she'd bet on to win that battle. But she happily let that thought remain just a thought, and instead smiled at Tom when he caught her eye hoping he sensed she was immensely happy that he had survived.

When the Mason kids stepped back, it was Anne who came forwards next. "Tom Mason," She scolded with a grin. "I'm getting damn tired of losing you." She threw her arms around Tom and hugged him tight. Even when she pulled back, she clung to Tom's arm as if to root him to the ground.

Weaver strode towards Tom and clasped his hand in a firm handshake. "I'm gonna tie a cowbell around your neck." He said with a curl of his lip. "All right, everyone! Let's get it in gear!" Weaver called out, a hint of sudden energy lilting in his voice. "I want to get to that airport before daylight!"

"We should have taken the bikes," Pope said.

"Stop saying that," Casey told him as she clicked on the indicator and steered the truck around the next right corner. Following the road rules was a force of habit, it wasn't like Casey was indicating to a throng of traffic behind her. "I'm not lugging food and medical supplies and whatever else is in this place back to that airport on a bike."

"No," Pope said sarcastically. "Instead we'll just alert all the skitters and Mechs within five miles of this hunk of crap of an engine."

"Well, you keep telling me I need to practice my shooting technique," Casey reminded him sweetly, tapping the rifle resting across her lap. "Besides, I have a truck full of Berserkers," She glanced in the rear-view mirror at Lee, Tector, Boon and Lyle all piled into the back of the pick-up. "I like my chances."

It was on the drive to the airport after Tom's miraculous survival of the bridge blast that Casey had first spotted the wreck of the light plane that had smashed into a department store. It was the store name that caught her eye, Home Warehouse, because a store from the same chain had been within walking distance of Casey's home. The navy blue light plane had wrecked most of one wall and half of the roof of the department store, but the basic structure looked relatively safe. At least, it did from the medbus window. Casey figured it was a perfect place to attempt a supply run.

"As good as they are," Pope was saying. "Don't go driving my guys into a fire fight."

"And what if I do?" Casey asked casually. "You gonna blow me up?"

"Ahhh," Pope let his head fall back against the headrest. "That's why we're here," He chuckled humourlessly. "Weaver's idea? He rope you in to pepper me for info on why I think trusting Tom is a mistake?"

"Actually, Weaver told me not to come out here," Casey admitted flatly. "And I chose not to hear that."

Casey had thought her supply run plan was a good idea, at least one worth discussing, but Weaver didn't agree. The Captain didn't want to spare the resources, especially given what they had lost crossing the bridge. Casey told him that was fair enough, but the whole point of the run was to replenish those lost resources. Weaver had still said no, so Casey took her plan to Crazy Lee who jumped at the chance to go out scouting, and all the Berserkers followed Lee's lead. Even Pope.

"You went against Weaver's orders?" Pope sounded genuinely surprised.

"I'm not one of his scouts, so technically I don't follow his orders," Casey said. It was the mentality she adopted when she'd driven off with the Berserkers to try and assuage her guilt. She respected Weaver immensely, he was a great leader, but this time she thought he was mistaken. "I can't really go against his "orders". Yes, I stole a truck, but I'll bring it back along with a whole mess of stuff for the 2nd Mass. He'll get over it. And if he doesn't, I don't really care because this is the right thing to do," she said resolutely. "We need more supplies. We need food, meds, clothes and whatever else we can find."

"Don't have to convince me," Pope shrugged. "Messing with Weaver is messing with Weaver. Course, if you'd told me this from the beginning I would've helped."

"Helped?" Casey cast him a sidelong glance and raised her eyebrows. "How? By being less of a jerk?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, silenced for a moment before he countered with: "You're a jerk."

"Good one," Casey pulled to a slow crawl at a set of dead traffic lights and took a left. Home Warehouse, or what was left of it, was just up ahead.

Casey parked the pickup right at the Home Warehouse entrance. The glass doors had been smashed long ago and even just through the shattered frames Casey could see the inside of the store had been ransacked. Garbage littered the floor and shelves were tipped into aisles with their contents scattered every which way. The realization came to Casey that maybe this place hadn't been ignored by survivors after all; and maybe she wasn't going to find as many supplies as she had first thought.

One thing there did seem to be plenty of were cars. Though it seemed almost all of vehicles in the parking lot had smashed windscreens and/or flat tyres, surely one would be in working order. Some cars were parked crookedly, or crumpled into one another on the exit roads and then abandoned. It was one of the first times Casey had thought Pope's pickup was in the best condition of the current selection of cars. But it made Case feel better, because even if all the cars were dead they could siphon the gas and bring that back to the 2nd Mass. That way her supply run would at least result in some supplies to present to Weaver.

"Check it!" Tector let out a low whistle as he jumped off the back of the pickup and surveyed the parking lot. "There's gotta be fifty cars here!"

Lyle circled a maroon sedan with four flat tyres and a huge dent in the side. "What's the bet we can at least get one working?"

"Don't let this one near it," Lee grinned at Boon as they both hopped off the truck. "Unless you want a car that blows up?" She laughed and gave Boon a playful shove that he returned.

"You two are on shopping duty with us," Pope said to Lee and Boon as he reached through the passenger's side window of the pickup and retrieved a flashlight from the glove box. "Tec, you and Lyle see what you can do out here."

Tector was already testing the engine in the pale blue hatchback. "You got it, Boss."

Casey slung her rifle over her back and flicked her long ponytail out from underneath the strap. She didn't get how Lee, or Pope, could shoot with their hair blowing into their eyes. It drove Casey nuts.

"Think there's beer in this place?" Pope mumbled as lead the group of four through the door frames.

"There'll be alcohol in the cleaning supplies," Casey suggested, carefully edging her way through the door so that she didn't nick herself on the jagged glass edges of the frame. "And you can drink as much of that as you like."

Pope waited for her to come through the door clear and then flickered his flashlight in her eyes. "Good one."

Casey shoved him forwards as Lee and Boon came through the doors behind them. The pairs split up. Lee and Boon took the lower level while Pope and Casey took the fire escape up to level two. They gave each other fifteen minutes, then both pairs were to meet back at the entrance to unload whatever they had found.

The second level of Home Warehouse seemed to be dedicated mostly to clothes and furniture. Casey retrieved a shopping cart each for herself and Pope from the lanes by the fire escape. They set their weapons in the flip up child seats, and started cruising the darkened aisles. The lack of florescent lighting made Casey feel like she was sneaking around the store after hours. They only light stemmed from a weak glow of the sun that managed to permeate the darkening clouds above and stream through the windows.

The sun wouldn't last, but it did give Casey a starting point for gathering supplies. With the weather being cold and wet, and everyone's clothes wearing out, whatever clothing Casey gathered up would be of use to someone. So, she lead Pope towards to the winter clothing and starting loading sweaters and jackets into their carts.

"Skitters and Mechs have most department stores laid with traps," Pope said as he scanned his flashlight over a rack of bright pink snow jackets. "Think they just missed this one?"

"No sign of skitters at the airport either," Casey pointed out as she pushed a stack of women's sweaters into her cart. "Maybe we finally found a place they haven't infiltrated."

After stacking Pope's cart with blankets from the linen section, Casey headed further around the bend to the furniture section of the store thinking she might find pillows. Instead she found something better. A selection of infant car seats. The nursery section doglegged sharply to the left but the car seats were displayed just on the corner. The seats were all different colours, all different sizes, some with more straps than others, some with more parts than others and even some that were connected to strollers.

"I should get one of these," Casey started lifting the car seats and testing how heavy they were. "But which one?"

"Chart," Pope flicked his flashlight beam at sign hanging off the shelf. It was a chart, a pallet of colour with different ages and sizes of babies all over it. "How much does the kid weigh?"

"Well," Casey had no clue; she'd never weighed Etta. But in the last couple of weeks, Casey had been noticing the muscles of her arms aching more. "She weighs more now than she did before."

Pope gave her a look that told her her statement was clearly unhelpful. "Then just get the lightest one."

Casey settled on a blue and purple car seat with straps covered in a pattern of farm animals. "Why didn't anyone suggest I get one of these earlier?" Casey mused as tried to find a place for the seat in her cart by manoeuvring it around the sweaters. "I'd be a hell of a lot less panicky when we travelled if Etta had some sort of restraint and wasn't just lying in a washing basket. What if we hit a pothole and she bounced out the bus window?"

"Kids are resilient, especially that one," Pope poked at a display of pine-scented air fresheners. "She'd bounce right back in."

Casey cast him a sidelong glance and smiled a little. When Pope wasn't being a dick he could be borderline tolerable to be around. "So, why are you here? I ask for your help, and you help? How whipped are you?"

"You asked your gal pal Craze for help, she ropes in Tect who doesn't go anywhere without Boon who would be dead without Lyle watching his back."

"And, what?" Casey was momentarily distracted by an awesome woolly orange hat with strands coming down by the ears that lay discarded on the ground. "You don't like being the only girl at the prom without a date," she snatched the ugly hat off the floor and pulled it onto her head. "So you just followed them?"

Pope looked only a little affronted. "I had a date for prom."

"I didn't," Casey said. "My friends and I all went alone. We had a blast. Meanwhile, every girl with a date either lost their virginity, got suspended or spent the night crying in the bathroom."

"What kind of school did you go to?"

Casey grinned and pulled at the threads of her pretty new hat. "A good one."

Pillows were an awkward thing to stash into shopping carts. Casey could only manage four in her cart and three in Pope's; but there were still a bunch of them left. When they got back to the airport and suffered through Weaver's ranting at her disobedience or whatever he would choose to yell at her, Casey expected the scouts would head back out and collect more.

"Almost time to meet Lee and Boon," Pope said as Casey crushed one final pillow into Pope's cart. "How the hell are we gonna take this crap down the stairs?"

"I dunno," Casey frowned and tied the strings of her new hat around the handle of the shopping cart so she wouldn't lose it. "We'll be creative," she steered her heavy cart towards the fire escape. "Oh, wait," Casey stopped and took the aisle to her left. "They had a store like this near my house, and they had this quirky section. And there was a suit in there I liked; it was made of dishtowels."

Pope scoffed a laugh as they rounded the end of the aisle. "Dishtow-"

Then the wet smattering of their footsteps echoed through the store. Casey shoved Pope sideways and pinned his body against the wall. The shopping carts continued to roll forwards. Pope looked confused and opened his mouth to say something, but Casey cut him off by making a shushing expression, and then one of the skitters barked, and another responded. Pope's confusion vanished.

Pope flattened against the wall and awkwardly pulled Casey closer to him. Their rifles were still in the shopping carts, but Pope removed his handgun from the back of his jeans. The pair just stood there, frozen, waiting for the skitters to find them. But after what felt like an eternity, they were still alone.

Leaning off Pope, Casey peered as stealthily as she could around the wall's edge. The shopping carts had curled left and stopped up against a display of faceless mannequins in swimwear; it was possible the skitters hadn't seen the movement. Casey counted four skitters and they were all facing the other direction. They were gathered by a crumbled mass of cement that Casey realized was from the roof. Above the aliens, Casey could see out into the cloudy sky. The skitters had come in through the hole smashed in by the light plane.

Casey ducked back behind the wall and whispered to Pope what she had seen. "Guns?" She nodded her head towards the shopping carts where the rifles were just sticking up waiting to be grabbed.

But Pope shook his head. "Don't push our luck."

Casey frowned and took another look at the skitters. Had her jaw not been clenched shut, the blasting of a shotgun from the floor below would have almost certainly made her yelp out loud. Instead she managed to refrain her shock from escaping and kept her eye on the skitters.

They had all heard the gunshots, their heads were all turned down towards the noise. They exchanged a few barks and growls of communication, and then began to walk up the aisle. If they didn't know Pope and Casey were there, they sure would in a moment. With their backs flat against the wall, Casey and Pope shuffled away from the skitters. Casey's eyes fell on a door labelled Maintenance and she headed straight for it.

Thankfully the door didn't creak as Casey opened it up. The closet space smelled strongly of disinfectant and wasn't built to house anything larger than brooms and buckets, but Casey and Pope still managed to squeeze inside. The vent in the door provided a thin view out into the store where Casey was able to see the skitters pause in the aisle. They had stopped at the swimwear mannequins and were cocking their heads from side to side at the shopping carts full of supplies. One skitter in particular reached out its scaled hand and ran its elongated fingers across the rifles. It seemed ready to pick up the weapon but two more shotgun blasts burst out from the first level. The skitters abandoned the carts and lurched forwards.

They were both breathing too loud and Pope was standing on her foot. That was all Casey could think as she stared out the vent and watched the four skitters clatter up the aisle, huffing and barking to each other as they scuttled out of sight. Pope had one hand on the door handle, holding it closed, but his other arm was folded in against his chest by Casey's back pressing against him. His elbow was digging between her shoulder blades, but Casey didn't dare breathe a breath of complaint. She had skitters to watch.

Another bout of gunshots echoed from downstairs, but no skitters came into Casey's view. It was odd to see skitters without Mechs, but Casey couldn't pretend to know what the aliens were thinking. Maybe, like Casey, one of the skitters had spotted the store and roped in others to help search the building. Maybe the skitters had seen Casey and the Berserkers go inside Home Warehouse and followed them. Maybe the aliens were looking for a new place to stash harnessed kids. Maybe this was how the aliens scouted, Casey hadn't been on nearly enough supply runs or scouting mission to have any sort of idea of the skitters stealth strategies.

"I don't hear Mechs, do you?" Casey whispered to Pope.

"No," Pope breathed. "They might be skirting the perimeter while the bugs set up camp in here."

A rapid succession of footsteps suddenly echoed outside breaking the hollow silence. Faster and faster, they approached supply closet. Casey was sure it was a skitter that had returned until she heard the sound a rubber sole squeaking on the linoleum floor. But before Casey could say a thing to Pope, the supply closet door was flung open. Standing there, looking equally casual and menacing in the effortless way she did, was Lee.

Clearly thinking she would find an enemy, she was prepared to shoot, but when she saw who was hidden in the closet she grinned and lowered her shotgun. "You two came all this way to hook up in a closet?"

"Har-har," Casey reached out to take hold of Lee's hand and pulled herself out of the closet. "There were Skitters."

Lee rested her shotgun over her shoulder. "Not anymore."

The sound of rubber soles squeaked to Casey's right and she turned in time to see Boon jogging towards them looking frazzled. "Jeez, we thought they got ya!" He nudged Casey's shoulder with his fist.

"Tect and Lyle two cars working," Lee said. "So if you two are done with your little game of hide-and-seek," she pointed a finger each at Casey and Pope. "Can we go now?"