Tyler found Donovan in the makeshift lab, set up downstairs in the back "gambling room" of the hotel, with Julie and Robert. The three were discussing how Willie and Angie would be working together on the pass analysis.

"We probably won't be getting back from my mother's house with the passes, if we do get back, until after midnight. They have to be ready to start on it right away," Donovan was reminding the other two, who seemed to have heard it before.

"They know that, Mike," Julie assured him. "Willie has had a chance to look over the Visitor text samples we have and he has a good idea what to do. He told us that it's more a more technical than linguistic issue, and that's right up Angie's alley."

"So she says."

Tyler stepped into the room and told Donovan in a clipped voice, "If she said it you can bank on it, Gooder."

"That's more than you said this morning."

Ignoring the comment Tyler continued, speaking primarily to Robert and Julie, "I have some business up-country for the next day or so. I'll be leaving tonight, back by mid-morning day after tomorrow." He cut off Donovan's ready protest, "In plenty of time to hold your hand while you crack mama's safe."

Julie and Robert exchanged a look. "All the planning's done, right?" Julie asked, more an observation than a question.

"Everything but the weather," Tyler told her.

"Will your friend still be here?" Robert asked. "In case anyone needs a little extra weapons drill? And we can always use another hand in case of trouble."

"Yeah, Chris'll be here. But from the looks of it your mixed bag of amateurs have shaped up pretty well. As ready as they're gonna be."

"Coming from you, that's high praise," Julie told him with the hint of a tongue in her cheek.

"Well don't let them know, it'll only go to their heads. Okay, I got stuff to do, if we're square I'm gonna go do it."

"Hope it goes okay, whatever it is," Julie called after Tyler as he left.

"I expect it will," he answered without looking back, keeping his smile to himself.

Donovan followed Tyler into the street and caught up with him as he headed for the communications center they'd constructed in the sheriff's office.

"What 'business up-country'?" He'd known Tyler, and about him, long enough to wonder if he was either making side deals on weapons or was just losing interest in the current situation and planning his own next move.

"Personal business."

"So how do we know you're not just gonna take off and leave us twisting in the wind?" Donovan demanded, stopping in the other man's path. Much as he hated to admit it, Mike knew how much they needed Tyler's talent for quick decision making and battle strategy. Tyler glared at him with casual menace.

Angie pegged it; Donovan is a pain in the ass, and not just kind-of. "You don't. Now get outta my way, Gooder, before I forget we're on the same side."

The implication was obvious. "Fine. Day after tomorrow."

"That's what I said. And if I don't come back I guarantee Chris will find me before you do, and he won't be any happier than you'll be."

Donovan stepped aside. Something more was going on, but he got the idea it wasn't anything that put their plans in danger, and for some reason he suddenly felt stupid about asking.

Tyler strode off without another word. When he got to the sheriff's office he picked up the field phone, at the same time asking Maggie with much more politeness than he showed most other people, "Step outside for a minute, will you? I got a private call to make."

Maggie, who harbored few doubts regarding this very in-your-face guy (hell, why would he need to lie when he could blow the whole place up without breaking a sweat?), readily complied. "Just gimme a shout when you're through."

"No problem." He even managed a smile. When she was gone he punched in a number. "Reno. Tyler. Look I'm calling in a favor…whaddaya mean 'which one', there are enough stacked up to last me a lifetime. Get up to that cabin in the woods." There was a little safe house hidden in the Angeles National Forest that would take an hour or so to get to. That was close enough to get back to the rebel camp on schedule. And just far enough away. From every fucking thing.

Angie had hoped to stuff a few things in a bag without raising any questions. The upstairs rooms in the hotel had been parceled out to the single women, the men sleeping downstairs or in other buildings in the abandoned film location. A string of train cars was also being prepared for habitation. As Angie pulled a pair of jeans and a couple of t shirts from the box of clothes that had been given to her, her roommate Ruby appeared.

Ruby was late sixty-ish, long-widowed, and had lost some close friends to the Visitors before taking up with the Resistance. Angie liked Ruby. She took no nonsense from anyone, and held little back. At the same time, she seemed to be one of the most kind and perceptive people Angie had met in a long time. It had become apparent that Ruby was something of a "grandmother" to the rebels, dispensing calm words of personal guidance and support. And, to Angie's great surprise, an equal amount of automatic weapons fire when the situation required it. "Feisty" seemed a patronizing word but Angie was hugely impressed by the risks this woman took posing as a cleaning lady and breezing in and out right under the Visitors' noses every day, gathering valuable intelligence.

"Two things nobody pays attention to," Ruby told Angie simply, "servants and old people. So I like to think I'm twice as invisible." Many such arch observations were punctuated with a light laugh, as if engaging in droll teatime conversation. I hope she wears off on me, Angie would think sometimes. She seems to have a grasp on this New World without letting it harden her.

Angie also liked the fact that Ruby didn't express even the most veiled curiosity about why (as in, "really, why?") she was with Ham and Chris, or the nature of their relationship. All she'd said about it was "It pays to travel with the right kind of people, and right now those two seem like the right kind of people to have around. And I think there's more than meets the eye behind that hard face Mr. Tyler wears."

Now Ruby had returned from "work", and was pulling off her kerchief and removing her false teeth and makeup before reporting to Julie, Robert and Donovan what more she'd learned regarding the plans for the to-be-raided party at the home of Donovan's mother Eleanor Duprés. She noticed Angie packing and gestured in dismay.

"Oh no, you're not leaving us already? And your new plans for those passes we'll be getting sounded so promising."

Angie paused, not really wanting to lie but unsure how much to share with Ruby. She seemed like a very common-sense person, but still…

"Uh, no Ruby. Just off for a day or so." She shoved some socks and underwear and her flannel pj's – which she loved, being the first comfortable sleeping attire she'd had in nearly six months – into the small rucksack, along with her toothbrush and deodorant. Should she bring an extra sweater? She would get so cold sometimes especially at night, and she didn't know where she'd be going. "Away" was all that counted at the moment. Away from planning, and running, and guns, and to… quiet. Stillness, and quiet. And Ham Tyler, who seemed a ready source for both, at least for her.

"Hmm," Ruby continued undressing, privacy being one of the first casualties of rebellion, "I just heard Mike grumbling when I was on the way in, all upset that we're on the verge of another raid and 'that Tyler has to tend to personal business for a couple days'." Then she looked straight at Angie, who froze. "I don't suppose you have some personal business to attend to, as well?"

Angie stood motionless, speechless. This is stupid, I'm a grownup, he's a grownup, we need to get away, to… what? Get laid, finally, and come back again? It can't be that simple.

Ruby spoke first, with a knowing look that put Angie almost at ease. "That's all right, Angie. It's not so surprising for two people in such a desperate situation to find something worthwhile in each other."

Finally Angie answered, "But it's not desperation, Ruby. It's… I don't know what it is, I just know that I feel like I have a chance to calm down, inside my head and inside myself, for a day or so. Or however long we can manage after that. Does that make sense?"

Ruby patted her arm and assured her, "It might be the only thing that does make sense, dear. And if you don't mind my saying so, I think Mr. Tyler has a great need to calm down, too. I don't think his life has allowed him that for a long time."

As she picked up her bag Angie still was uncertain. "You're not going to tell anyone we've run off or anything? I mean all I need is more rumors and questions and wrong ideas. I don't answer them, but they just make things so much more difficult."

Ruby waved her kerchief and uniform dress. "I'm the cleaning lady, not the house mother. I'll see you when you get back. And if anyone asks me where you've gone or why, I'll tell them that you stepped out for a bit of quiet."

"Thank you, thank you… " she gave Ruby an impulsive hug.

"I'll see you when you get back," Ruby repeated, "calm and ready for what happens next."

"I sure hope so," Angie replied as she made for the door. "I'll let you be the judge."


At four o'clock sharp Angie arrived at the improvised motor pool, an enormous cattle barn on the edge of town that was used to shelter the collection of vehicles "liberated" for use by the camp members. Water tanks outside had been converted to store the fuel that Chris and Ham's contacts had managed to bring in with surprising speed since their arrival.

She walked into the darkness of the barn and called out quietly, "Hello?"

"Very subtle," came a low voice right behind her, and she jumped a mile. "You're lucky it's me and not one of Gooder's jumpy watchmen."

As Angie's eyes adjusted she could see Tyler's sardonic smile. Eyeing the rucksack she had in her hand he added, "Traveling light, good." He was empty handed.

"You too, I guess," she observed.

He didn't answer but led her by the arm to a corner by the rear door. He took the rucksack from her and lashed it with bungee cords next to his own small leather satchel on the rear rack of a vintage Harley, then began to walk the cycle to the back door of the barn.

"Well come on, unless you plan to run after me."

She followed him, but hesitated when he opened back door and set the bike on its stand again. He held a slick-looking black helmet in his hand and picked up another from a hook on the rear of the bike. She didn't take it from him.

"Uh, wait a minute, Tyler… where are we going anyway?"

"Away from here. To somewhere else. Like I said, a day off. We'll be back day after tomorrow. Here," he tried to hand her the helmet again and misunderstood when she didn't take it. "You're not gonna ride without this."

"Can't we take one of those?" she asked, pointing to the varied array of four-wheeled, enclosed, safe vehicles.

He was shaking his head. "Uh-uh, we need to save the fuel for bigger things. Besides, this'll be faster." When she looked a little queasy at that, he got it. "You've never ridden on a bike, have you?"

Angie shook her head, a little sheepish. "Uh, no."

"You learned to shoot, you can learn to ride. Nothin' to it, Angel, just hang on and lean when I do. I promise I won't spill you." When she didn't move, Tyler chuckled derisively. "I guess you never went out with a biker, huh, just that demo derby driver?" He stopped laughing when he saw she wasn't budging. "Trust me, will you? I won't let you get hurt." He put on his own helmet and mounted the bike. "C'mon, or I'll soak up all that peace and quiet for myself and leave you here to listen to Gooder's speeches."

Shit. "Oh, all right, give it here," Angie took the helmet and put it on. Too big for her, it fell down over her eyes and the faceguard came down somewhere way under her chin.

Tyler laughed out loud. "Oh, beautiful." He dismounted, lifted the helmet off and put it on the bike's seat. "Put your hair up on top of your head," he told her, and when she did he pulled a bandanna out of his back pocket and tied it over her piled up hair, knot in back, like Chris wore from time to time. "There you are, a genuine biker chick." Ignoring her sullen glare he replaced the helmet, which now fit decently, on her head and mounted the bike again, sliding forward a little to give her room. "Okay, climb on and just hold onto me. You'll get the feel for it."

She adjusted the helmet a little, and climbed on behind him. When Angie placed her hands lightly against Tyler's waist, he grabbed both of them and pulled them around tightly in front.

"I said hold on." His voice was muffled by both helmets, but she got the message. She lifted her feet gingerly off the ground and settled them on the rear pegs.

When Tyler rolled the bike abruptly off the kickstand Angie almost called it off.

"Hey," she protested in desperation, "what if it rains?"

This time she could feel Ham's laughter through the arms she had locked around his middle. "We get wet!"

The bike roared to life, and they were off. After the first ten minutes or so, during which Angie figured she would've crushed the ribs of a lesser man, she began to feel the rhythm of their motion on the rough dirt roads like Tyler said she would. She leaned when he leaned, as he'd instructed, but there weren't all that many turns. He'd never told her how long the trip would be, or where they were going, except "away".

But he'd also said "trust me," and she did. So much so that after ten or fifteen miles, when her hands were freezing cold, she reached each one into a pocket of Tyler's leather jacket and held on tight from the inside. Another ten miles and she was settled close against him, face turned to the side and eyes closed. By the time they'd covered fifty miles, not far from their destination, she was lost in the chill rush of the wind and wondering if she'd ever want to travel any other way again.

Meanwhile, up front, feeling the wind under his facemask and the warmth of Angie Harper wrapped tight behind him, Ham Tyler was wondering if having Chris track him down and kick his ass might just be worth it, if he could just keep going.