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As they passed through the barrier time seemed to slow for Willow, and the world outside faded from her awareness. For a split second she was in limbo, then they were through and the world within the shield flooded her senses. She was relieved to discover a lingering human presence, though it was overshadowed by a malevolent, pulsing force so strong she tasted an acrid tang in the back of her throat.
The car squealed to a halt, jerking her forward against her seat belt. Jolted from her inner explorations, she glared at Buffy.
"Oops. Sorry 'bout that," Buffy said cheerfully. She twisted to gaze through the rear window and reversed the car. Willow cringed, anticipating a collision with the barrier, but the car stopped with inches to spare.
Mouths open, the three females were staring at them.
"Get in!" Willow yelled out the window.
As if in a trance the woman shook her head. "No, we have to get out of here." She resumed her futile struggle against the barrier while the little girls continued to stare.
"Oh, for the love of..." Buffy burst out of the car and ran to the woman, hauling her away from the barrier. "It's nearly dark. You can't stay here."
The woman fought to get away. "No kidding! Do I look like I'm setting up camp? Let go!"
Willow spilled out of the car, uncertain if she should intervene or not. Buffy was right, but this wasn't exactly the best way to gain the woman's trust.
"We so don't have time for this," Buffy muttered as she dragged her to the car.
Like mini slayers, the little girls hurled themselves at Buffy, beating her with tiny fists and screaming, "Stop hurting our mommy!"
Surprised, Buffy released the woman, who collapsed in a heap. Her daughters clustered about her, seeking reassurance. Buffy threw her hands in the air and cast a disgusted look in Willow's direction.
She hesitated, then approached the woman and knelt. "Look, I know we got off to a bad start, what with the caveman routine and all," she glanced at Buffy, "but we really are trying to help you."
The woman looked up with tear-filled eyes. "Then help us get out."
Willow tried to come up with a way to soften the blow and realised she didn't have the time. "You can't get out. No one can."
Bringing a hand to her mouth, the woman stifled a sob. The older girl stared at Willow with big brown eyes in a dirt-smudged face. Willow put her age at about six years old.
"How do you know?" said the girl in a small voice.
Willow squared her shoulders. "I'm a witch. It's my job to know."
"You don't look like a witch."
"Yeah, well, I left my pointy hat at home."
"Where's your wand?" demanded the younger girl as she clung to her mother.
"I don't-"
Buffy loomed over them. "This is a fascinating conversation, but can we please get the hell out of here?" She offered the woman a hand. "You'll be safer with us, I promise."
The sun had dipped below the horizon and the sky was darkening into a rich midnight blue. A distant howl echoed through the night and the woman blanched. She grasped Buffy's hand, and in one easy motion the slayer pulled her up.
They all piled into the car. Willow breathed a sigh of relief as she slammed the door shut. Though she knew the car wouldn't protect them against anything that really meant business, she felt safer within its confines.
Buffy turned the ignition and looked at Willow. "Where to?"
Willow glanced at their passengers; she hadn't anticipated picking up strays on their mission but they could hardly leave them behind now.
"The root of all evil, I guess - Wolfram Hart."
The street lights were out, so Buffy took it slow as she began driving towards the downtown area. Blacked-out buildings towered over them like menacing shadows, and Willow couldn't help wondering if the shadows had eyes. She shivered, shook it off, and faced the woman and her daughters. The light from the dashboard lent their features a greenish tinge.
"I'm Willow."
The woman nodded and introduced herself. "Jean. This is Melissa," she said, ruffling the older girl's hair, "and Abby." She hugged her youngest, but the girl squirmed in her mother's arms.
"What's the mean girl's name?" said Abby.
Buffy growled while Willow smothered a grin. "Her name's Buffy."
Giggles erupted from the back seat. "That's a dorky name."
"Is it too late to take them back?" Buffy said, deadpan.
The giggles stopped at once.
"Don't worry," Willow said. "Buffy acts tough, but she's all soft and marshmallowy inside. She wouldn't do anything to hurt you. Right, Buffy?"
Silence.
"Right, Buffy?" Willow said a little louder.
There was an incomprehensible grunt that might have been an affirmation; Willow chose to take it as such. "See." She was about to continue listing Buffy's virtues when Melissa pointed through the windscreen.
"Look, mommy, there's our car."
Whipping her head around, Willow saw the headlights illuminate an SUV on the side of the road, its bumper embedded in a pole.
"Where's daddy?" Abby asked as she pressed her face against the window.
In a choked voice, Jean said, "Daddy's gone, sweetie."
Willow exchanged a worried look with Buffy, and reached out to touch Jean's knee. "We need to know what happened to the city."
"What difference does it make?" Jean said with quiet despair. "We're trapped here. We're probably going to die here. Just like-" She buried her face in Abby's hair.
The woman's terror permeated the air, and Willow's throat constricted in response. Coming to Los Angeles hadn't seemed like such a big deal when the sun was shining and she'd been a thousand miles away. But now it was night, she and Buffy had no backup, and the enormity of their task was beginning to hit her.
Struggling to breathe, Willow's gaze fell on the girls, their small faces scrunched up with fear and confusion, and a visible reminder of the innocents she was here to protect. With an effort, she clamped down on her emotions and pinched Jean's knee hard. The woman's head snapped up.
"Look at them," Willow said, gesturing to Melissa and Abby, "and tell me again it doesn't make any difference."
"I..."
"We're in deep poopville here, I'm not denying that, but you give up now and you're as good as..." She paused, and not wanting to frighten the girls spelled out, "D-E-A-D. So are they."
Jean opened her mouth, as if to protest, then looked down at her daughters. After a long moment she said, "You're right."
"Damn straight."
"Nice pep talk, Willow," Buffy said in a low voice.
"Thanks."
"But...poopville?"
"What's wrong with poopville?"
"Kind of a gross mental image, don't you think?"
Willow sniffed. "Fine. Next time you do the talking."
"Er, hello?" Jean said. "Remember me."
"Oh, right," Willow said, trading a sheepish look with Buffy. She turned back to Jean. "Sorry. Go on."
Jean took a deep breath. "There was an earthquake, about ten days ago. It wasn't a big one, not even a 4.0, but it woke us up." She was silent for several seconds. "That's when it started...the horrible night noises, the gory deaths...as if wild animals were loose in the city. No one knew what was going on, but there were all kinds of insane rumours. We thought it would blow over - I mean, this is L.A. - but then people starting leaving. There were traffic jams and accidents, road rage like you wouldn't believe. Everything was so crazy we decided to wait...because of the girls." She hugged them tighter.
"Mommy, you're squishing me," said Abby.
"Sorry, baby." Clothing rustled as Jean shifted. "We thought someone would come...the police or the army. But no one did."
Willow chewed her lip. "Did you ever see anything?"
Jean shook her head. "We stayed inside, hiding."
"Probably a good idea," Buffy said.
"I'm not so sure," Jean said. "We ran out of food and water, the power was out, and all of a sudden the city was practically deserted. It felt like we were the last ones here, so after a couple more days we decided to make a run for it." She sniffled. "That didn't work out so well."
"What happened to your husband?" Willow asked gently.
Jean wiped her eyes. "We'd made it this far, so we were starting to relax. Then this...creature flew down out of nowhere, breathing fire. Mike swerved and hit the pole. He yelled at me to run." She drew in a quavering breath. "So I did. I grabbed the girls...and I left him."
After a moment Willow said, "I know it doesn't feel like it, but you did the right thing."
"Yeah."
That single word was laden with bitterness. Willow fell silent, knowing nothing she said could comfort the woman.
Out of the blue, Buffy said, "You were wrong, you know." Her tone was brusque. Willow recognised the signs - Buffy was in slayer mode, focused solely on the mission. It was times like these when her personality shared more in common with the primitive slayer than Willow would have liked.
"What?" Jean said.
"Someone did come - it just wasn't who you were expecting."
With a slightly hysterical laugh, Jean said, "No offence, but I'd rather have the marines escorting me. And maybe a navy seal or two."
Willow smiled. "No offence taken. But me and Buffy are better than a whole platoon of marines."
"I find that hard to-"
Buffy abruptly slammed on the brakes.
"Hey!" Willow said as she was once again flung against her seat belt, this time sideways. Buffy didn't respond.
Jean stared through the windscreen. "Oh God."
Willow swivelled her head, and her mouth went dry. A phalanx of demons blocked the road - most of them vampires, but she also spotted several unfamiliar creatures who looked extremely bad-tempered.
"Umm, Buffy?" she said. "Could you give me one of those pep talks now?"