So now she sat, her back to the log he left her in, looking at the shredded mess that were her feet. Blood flowed from dozens of small cuts, the sight made her cry even harder than before. If only they hadn't run by those abandoned old factories, the glass from their busted out windows littering the ground below. That's where the worst of her injuries came from, she could still feel shards of the window panes lodged inside some of the cuts. If only her Daddy had let her stop and put her shoes on, she thought miserably.
It felt as if hours had gone by while she cried. At last, there were no more tears to cry, and she sat quietly, the occasional sniffle breaking the stillness around her as she took a look at her surroundings. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she laid her head upon her knees and said a silent prayer that her Mom would come back down from heaven and save her. A twig snapped off in the distance behind her, startling the girl. "Daddy?" she called out questioningly. "Daddy are you here?"
No answer came. As the light began getting brighter around her, she thought once more about searching for her father. He'd told her to stay, that he'd come back for her, but he hadn't really been himself since her mother had died. Looking up at the sky once more, the girl pulled together all her courage, climbing to her feet and moving away from the tree, limping painfully on her sorely abused feet. She moved towards the spot where she'd heard the twig snap, only it was the sound of rustling leaves came from ahead of her now. "Daddy?" she called nervously, beginning to regret leaving the safety of the log.
The rustling continued in front of her, seeming to move closer to her, as another twig snapped. Suddenly a large, hulking figure appeared before her eyes, slowly emerging from the shadows of the trees. It moved towards her, not really looking like a man, but not an animal either. The girl cried out in fear and bolted off through the trees, crying out, "Daddy! Daddy where are you? Help me Daddy!" The creature followed behind, earnestly crashing through the forest behind her...
Briggs jerked awake, sitting up swiftly and looking wildly about her surroundings for a moment before she remembered where she was, sitting atop a Holiday Inn in the middle of El Paso. She relaxed her grip on the weapon she didn't remember grabbing before pulling her knees to her chest and resting her head on them for a moment. CJ's voice spoke softly from behind, startling her. "You want to tell me what that was all about?"
Whirling towards the sound of his voice, she shook her head no, then resumed her earlier position, staring out into the night deep in thought. It had been two long days since they'd left the estate behind them. They'd been pushing it hard, harder than she'd ever pushed them before. They'd stopped only once before this night, and that had been for fuel. Caroline had stayed behind along with Helga and Felix, plus Chrissy had chosen to stay behind as well. In truth, Chrissy had been too drunk to make much of a decision about it either way. For better or worse the rest of them had opted to come with what was left of the soldiers. The pilot, Smith, had been left behind as well, afterBriggs hadfinished her interrogation and gotten the information she'd wanted from him, he wasn't overly interested in accompanying them. He was in too many pieces outside of the fence to be interested in much of anything.
"Are you still thinking about this afternoon?" CJ asked, breaking into her thoughts again. "It wasn't your fault you know."
"That's not what I was thinking about, but thanks for reminding methat I should be. I could have planned for it better, we cameclose tolosing more people because of me," she said quietly.
"We aren't going to get anywhere without those helicopters," CJ reasoned. "We did what we had to do."
"Maybe."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.
"If I hadn't insisted on flying the Little Bird off of the estate, then we wouldn't have run into the problems we had fueling. It would have been a straight shot in and out with watches around the perimeters of the helos, and two fuel men. Having the two-seater along means pulling more people off the other two helicopters for watches and fueling, it limits the amount of time we have to get people back on board before the shit hits the fan," she complained.
"We'll just have to adapt how we handle our refueling strategy. Not to change the subject or anything, but that was an organized attack they did, wasn't it?"
"Yea, it's like I said, they're learning. They're not just moving blindly like herds of cattle following their leader anymore, that's why the extra bird means more of a risk to us every time we set down."
"Maybe we should talk with the others about it," CJ suggested. "Put it to a vote or something. For the record though, if your friend really is coming after us, I personally think having an attack helicopter along for the ride is worth the extra risk. It kinda levels the playing field a little bit."
Briggs let out a humorless chuckle. "Put it to a vote. You're not getting all democratic on me now CJ, are you?" she asked, causing him to turn red.
"I just think you need to start letting the rest of us in on some of the decision making," he replied. "This isn't just a military operation anymore, we're all in it together. And you're taking way too much on yourself."
She looked thoughtful for a moment. "All right, we'll try things your way. For now," she stressed. "Things start falling to pieces, and I'm taking back my command. I don't give a rats ass if this isn't a military operation and I come off as sounding like a dictator. Besides, as I remember it, the president declared marshal law before the televisions and radios went down," she smiled. "So I have every right to assume command. For the record," she said, parroting his own words.
"Okay, I can accept that. So what now?"
"Get everyone together, we're gonna have a little chat after I contact my superiors," she said as she rose to her feet.
"Yes ma'am," he said, causing her to take a mock swing at him.
"And don't call me that, I work for a living. Go let everyone know, meeting, south side of the roof in twenty minutes," she said. Turning she walked in the opposite direction, towards the communications equipment she and Cowboy had set up after they'd landed on the deserted rooftop.
"I need to talk to Dillon," she said to the soldier who answered the transmission. "Tell him it's Wraith." Moments later, the slightly disheveled face of her superior appeared on the screen.
"It's about time you called in," he reprimanded. "What's your location and status?"
"Taking a vacation with the kids and enjoying margaritas on the beach Blake, what the fuck do you think my status is?" she shot back. "As for my location, I'm heading sortasouthish right now, that may or may not change, and we'rerelocating to what I hope will prove to be a relatively secure facility. I plan on setting up shop there for awhile."
"Where are you now?"
"Classified."
"Dammit, as your superior I'm ordering you to give me your current location," he ground out.
"We checked in to the Holiday Inn, although I definitely can't give it more than a single star rating. Any other details besides that and I'll have to reiterate, it's classified," she said emotionlessly. "See, I had an enlightening chat with one of Scarecrow's people the other day, learned some interesting information about some of the connections our little lost sheep has, especially in places I hadn't expected. Until I'm absolutely sure of who it is I can trust I'm not revealing my location to anyone, even you."
"You realize I can just trace your transmission," he said.
"Yea, I thought about that," she said thoughtfully. "That's why I liberated Kelmsley's scrambler from his communications relay before we left, and even if I hadn't, there isn't anyone close enough to reach us before we disappear again."
"You little bitch."
She smiled, "Yea, it's a technique I learned it from the best. I'll be in touch Blake. In the meantime, if you are on my side, do me a favor and don't look for me. Keep an eye out for the president too,Unit 8 seems to be thriving right now. This would bea prime opportunity for them to try eliminating the competition. You might want to clean house in your own department too, at least what's left of it. Out." She terminated the connection before he could say anything. Sighing, she scrubbed her hands across her face, willing herself to face the rest of the group as she rose to her feet again.
When she reached the opposite end of the roof, the others had already gathered together, and were just waiting for her arrival.
"What exactly is 'Uncle Mike's?' That's what I want to know for starters," Michael said, pushing his way to the front of the group to stand beside Kenneth. CJ had obviously done his part filling them in on the purpose of the meeting.
"Uncle Mike was a buddy of my Father's back in 'Nam," Briggs said. "He was kind of like a father figure to me after...well, he was like a father to me. Anyways, he got together with some of the others guys they served with, came up with a business plan. Somehow they managed to get the cash together to buy an island, probably with a little help from the VA. They were in the process of turning it into a resort, something that would cater to both the spring break crowd and the yuppies trying to get in touch with their inner- Jimmy Buffett."
"What makes you think this island is gonna be safe?" asked Kenneth.
"Well...for one thing, they weren't open for business yet. They used up almost all of their money buying the place, so they ended up doing the bulk of the construction work themselves, hiring some of the locals in the area to help out. Needless to say it was a slow moving process. I figure there was maybe a handful of people on the island when the virus was released, probably ten at the most. With that in mind, there's a good chance that nobody on the island was infected."
"So we don't even know for sure if this place is actually safe then. That's what you're saying isn't it?" Roger inquired.
"Pretty much. I can't tell you with absolute certainty that the island's clear," she admitted. "But, all things considered, I think it's the best shot we've got to get out of the war zone for awhile. Unless someone else has been holding out on us of course."
Ignoring her comment, Kenneth replied, "That's all well and good, but you're still leaving out one very important fact."
"What's that?" Cowboy asked, moving to Briggs' side.
"Where exactly is this mystery island located?"
Briggs and Cowboy looked at each other for a moment. "That's the tricky part, it's off the coast of Costa Rica," Cowboy said.
"Jesus Christ!" burst Fran. "It may as well be on the moon for all the good it's going to do us."
"That is a pretty good distance to travel," Michael said hesitantly.
Briggs smiled. "Well, unless you have some place else in mind, that's our choice. I'm sure we all want to get out of places like this," she gestured around them. "The way I see it, this is our best chance. We can't just fly aimlessly around indefinitely."
"Why not? It's worked for you so far hasn't it?" asked Tom.
"Not really, we've had places to hole up, get rested. Plus fuel is definitely going to become an issue sooner or later, you saw that for yourselves this afternoon," Briggs pointed out.
"The way they attacked us," Kenneth murmurred thoughtfully.
"And Fran can't keep flying forever either," Peter said.
"Well then I think we should leave behind that extra helicopter," Tom declared. "It's one less think to have to guard when they come after us."
"No fuckin' way," Kenneth said. "We don't know what else besides those things are out there waiting for us. Pain in our ass or not, we need that machine."
"I'm with Kenneth," CJ told them.
"Yea, well, we already knew that you'd agree with anything your girl over there tells you to say," Steve added. "Maybe we should just leave her behind and then we won't have to worry about anyone but those things coming after us."
"How do you figure that Steve?" Briggs inquired. "Even if you left me behind on this roof, how's the strike force supposed to know that? They'll still shoot you out of the sky faster than you can blink."
"She's right," Peter said. "So unless anyone has a better idea of where we should go, I suggest we start coming up with a plan to make it to Costa Rica."
"What about this, we shoot the bitch here and now, and then have her boy over there send a message over the radio that she's gone," Steve said, glaring at Briggs.
"Enough of the testosterone Steve," Briggs said, exasperated. "How about I toss your body over the side of the roof and we see if there's anything left for those little fucks to chew on?"
"Stop it! Both of you!" hollered Dennis, drawing everyone's attention to where he stood.
"Haven't enough people died already without you guys trying to kill each other too?" he asked. There was a long, silent pause following his outburst.
"We leave at first light," Briggs said, the first to speak. "We'll cross over into Mexico, I know where there's a couple of out of the way airfields where we may be able to fuel up. After that, we'll follow along the coast the whole way."
"What about fuel after we get out of Mexico?" asked Michael.
"It's going to be a little more tricky, but not impossible. I know of at least two locations,suspected drug cartels, that we were monitoring for possible terrorist ties with Afghanistan, guns for drugs and that kind of thing. Both of them aren't too far in from the coast area, and both have their own private airfields. Nothing but big clearings in the middle of the jungle, so we should be able to use them to our advantage. Any other questions?"
"Yea," Steve said. "Do you really think this hair-brained scheme of yours is going to work?"
"I wouldn't even be trying it if I didn't think it would work," she replied. "Now, does anyone have any intelligent questions?"
"These airfields, won't they be under guard?" Kenneth asked.
"I don't know. If there's anyone left there alive, probably. But if that's the case, and they are, we'll deal with it when the time comes," Briggs responded.
"What about food, supplies, and that kind of thing?" Roger asked.
"Unknown. But, knowing Mikey, there's plenty to go around."
"What about medical supplies?" Fran called out, hand resting on her protruding stomach.
"Well, I don't think there'll be any kind of first class surgical suite or anything, but it should get by for giving birth."
"But there won't be any epidurals, and what if there's some kind of complications?" the soon-to-be mother pressed.
"Come on Fran, we've got two medical professionals here for you, the rest of it isn't necessary. Women have been having babies for thousands of years without epidurals, you'll be all right."
Fran looked unconvinced but remained silent. Ana walked forward and squeezed her hand, saying softly, "She's right Fran, Tom and I will be able to help you when the time comes." Fran nodded, acknowledging her words.
"Look, it's late," Cowboy said. "Why don't we try to get a few more hours of sleep before sun-up. Terry, Jones take the watch."
An hour later the roof top was silent. Terry and Jones each stood guard by one of the two fire escapes that lead to the roof top, most of the others had chosen random locations on the roof to sleep. Nicole silently approached Terry.
"You've hardly said two words to me since we left that house Terry, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" she asked without preamble.
"Nothing."
"Then why won't you talk to me!"
"I'm busy right now, can't this wait until after we take off tomorrow?" he asked.
"Terry, if this is about Zachary," she started to say.
"Why would this have anything to do with him? Just because you disappear with him all night and then blow me off ever since. I've got more important things to think about than that," he said angrily, turning his back on her and facing the parking lot below.
"It's not what you think Terry, we were painting the helicopters, that's all."
"We'll talk about it tomorrow," he said again, refusing to turn back and face her.
Nodding her head, even though his back was to her, Nicole turned and began retreating back towards her sleeping bag next to Fran. A hand suddenly encircled her forearm. "I figured it was you."
Nicole turned in wide-eyed shock and saw Briggs looking at her. "You figured it was me what ?" she asked nervously.
"That painted my birds. Nice job by the way. So, since you don't seem to be sleeping, I have a little job for you to do," Briggs said, a sly smile touching her face.
"What kind of job?"
Briggs smiled again, indicating a bag slung over one of her shoulders. Nicole recognized it as the duffel bag she and Zachary had filled with spray paint a few nights before. Briggs placed an arm around Nicole's shoulders and quietly began telling her what she had in mind as they walked towards the Little Bird.