CHAPTER SIX: AN EMBER CAN START AN INFERNO: Part 1

The car, much like humans nowadays, came to life as Roz inserted the key into the ignition. Finn took the front seat and Dave, Blaine, and Puck grabbed the back seats.

The former swim coach pulled reached one of the gates, to which there was Puck's truck still in the way. He got out and promptly moved it and unlocked the gate then got back in the car.

"It was a good idea to block the gates with those cars." Blaine noted from the middle.

Grunting as he pulled his seatbelt into place, Puck said "Yeah, we ran into a bit of… Trouble while closing the gate." Finn shifted nervously in the front seat. "It doesn't matter though. Obviously Puckzilla saved the day." From behind the wheel, Roz scoffed and stared straight ahead. Blaine wasn't sure if she was scoffing at Puck's hesitation or his ridiculous nickname.

The group passed the corpse of the dead woman with her head caved in. Blaine breathed in sharply in horror. "Holy hell. It seems a lot more than just a little."

Finn closed his eyes, fiddling with a loose thread on his shirt. "They're people, Blaine. I just… I couldn't." He whispered.

"What if it was Rachel standing next to you? What then?" Blaine shot back.

"I don't know!" Finn growled through gritted teeth. "I don't really want to think about it either. I'm only eighteen, dude."

"Why not? Look, maybe this will all blow over, maybe it won't. But we need to prepare ourselves for if this goes long-term. And not killing those things won't help anything." Blaine countered. "I'm only seventeen, and I don't want to think about all this anymore than you do."

"Hey!" Roz yelled from the front. "Maybe all that gel crap you put in that rat's nest messed up yo' mind, but you need to turn the Chris Crocker-meter down a few notches. The last thing we need is more tears in this group." She glared straight ahead, and all four noticed that the car sped up ten miles an hour.

There was silence in the car until Blaine said "I'm sorry. This whole thing has gotten to my head is all."

Roz eyed the former Warbler in the rearview mirror. "Hmph. Well, we've got trouble up ahead anyways."

A few hundred yards ahead, where the train tracks marked the edge of central Lima, was a train. Nothing looked wrong with it except for the fact that it was stopped on the tracks, directly in the way of the road that would get them to the town. Roz stopped the car and got out. The beginning and end of the car was out of sight.

Puck got out after her. "What now coach?" He asked, resting one arm on the roof of the car.

Roz didn't answer for a second. She turned a full circle, quickly surveying the wooded area. "There are three other roads that go over the tracks. One of them has to be open."

Finn got out as well. "Damn it." He muttered, slamming the end of his bat in the ground. Why does everything have to be so difficult?"

"My thoughts exactly, Butthead." Roz muttered.

"Butthead?" Finn asked, puzzled.

Roz turned around, her mouth slightly agape. "Beavis and Butthead?" When Finn showed no signs of recognition, she said, "I swear, what do you kids read today?"

"The label on the condom box is pretty useful." Puck said. "Except for one time, but that was just 'cause I didn't read the other label that said 'Keep one with you at all times.'"

Roz snorted. Just then, the cracking of a branches and the rustle of a bush were heard. The trio turned and a zombie was ambling its way towards them. Without so much as a second thought, Roz strode over to it and swung her bat, effectively cleaving off the head. A few more were picking up the pace towards them.

"Get in the car." Roz breathed and the three darted back to the car. The zombies were upon them by the Roz started the car. The car jerked forward as it blew over one of them. The noise it made as the car ran over it made Finn wince. Blaine gave him a faint simle and patted his shoulder, as if to say that everything was ok.

The front of the train ended right at the next road. The five breathed a sigh of relief. It was just enough of the road for the car to pass over. And as Dave pointed out, it was closer to the gun store anyway.

"How did you know?" Finn quipped.

"My dad was a hunter and I'm not proud to say I've killed a few animals." Dave replied.

Roz heard this and asked "So you're a good shot then?"

Dave frowned before replying with "Fairly decent, I guess."

"Good enough." Roz said. At any rate, she looked pleased. "At least you've handled a gun. Man-baby over here will probably take The Civil Rights Movement to learn how to shoot." Finn gritted his teeth but said nothing.

The car went over the bump and drove down the street. A few zombies were lurking around, but it was diminutive enough to not worry about.

"How do you think it all started?" Finn asked no one in particular. He had his head resting on his hand and was watching the buildings pass by.

Noticed only by Finn, Roz set her jaw and gripped the wheel tighter. " Maybe some kind of disease or something." She grunted. Clearly wanting to change subjects, she asked Dave which street it was on.

"A few blocks ahead, then a left I think." He answered, glancing out the window. "It's so different without people everywhere."

"Well they are, just not in the same way." Blaine said bitterly.

The group passed stores and a few houses when a scream was heard. Up ahead a woman burst out of a house screaming while a man and a kid chased after her. "Oh my god." Finn whispered. "We have to save her."

"Say what?" Roz asked. "With all that noise she's making, they'll be here in no time."

With admirable gusto, Finn opened the door while the car was still doing thirty-five. "Stop the car." He growled.

"What in the hell?" Roz yelled, slamming on the brakes. Before the car even stopped, Finn leaped out with his bat in hand. "Finn, sit yo' ass back down!" the swim coach yelled.

He ran to the sidewalk while his friends got out to get him back. Finn trudged forward and met the woman. "Get back!" He yelled. She rand and his behind her savior. Fin braced himself while the undead duo ran straight towards him with weird, strangled sounds. With a guttural roar, the football player bashed the man's skull in with a direct swing downwards. He dropped with a thud on top of the zombified kid, who Finn offed in a similar fashion.

Then there was silence.

Finn breathed heavily while he stared at the growing pools of blood on the concrete. Behind him, the woman asked timidly, "Are they dead?"

"Yeah. They're dead for real this time." He said. Then he promptly threw up on the corpses.

"That was the biggest-assed adrenaline rush I've ever seen." Roz said from the car. "Now get in."

"Please!" The woman begged. "My friend Wendye is in there asleep. We have to get her."

"Excuse me, lady, but this car is only big enough for five. You're lucky we're taking you." Roz barked.

"The name is Mindy by the way." The woman shot back sourly. "And I am going back to get her."

"You just ran out of a house screaming bloody murder and you think it's safe to stay here? They'll be here faster than you can say lunchmeat." Roz said.

Just then, a lock was heard being undone and a woman with long black hair stuck her head out a window. "Mindy, was that you screaming?" She sounded groggy as if she had just woken up.

"Wendye!" Mindy yelled with a smile. "Come on down! These people are going to take us!"

"Excuse me?" Roz exclaimed with a huff. "This Prius is the size of a lunchbox. We ain't no tour bus."

All the same, Wendye emerged from the front door. She was in a set of pajamas, not in the least ready to run away. When she saw the corpses of the man and the woman she exhaled as if an anvil had just been thrown into her chest. "Randy and Danny! Mindy, are you-"

Mindy cut her short with tears in her eyes yet still maintaining a steely disposure. "They're gone, Wen. Let's just go."

Finn smiled and escorted them to the tiny car. "Right this way madams." He said with a toothy grin, opening the door. Mindy crawled in and straddled the center console while Wendye sat in the floorboards of the back.

"I swear, what the hell did I say about not having space?" Roz grumbled. Nonetheless, she started the car.

They drove in silence until Blaine remarked "You know, it's weird how there haven't been that many of them around here."

Dave swallowed hard. "Maybe it wasn't bad here." He said.

"Please honey." Roz scoffed. "You sound about as confident as Clay Aiken on American Idol results night. They're all probably off at The Scream's house back there."

Mindy laughed as she swayed on her precarious perch. "Sorry about that. Seeing your husband and son wake up after being sick gets to you."

The car swerved then straightened itself quickly. "How sick were they?" Roz asked ferociously.

"They had a horrible fever. It didn't last long though, but it made them really skinny."

A gleam of sweat appeared on the swim coach's brow. "Jesus Christ…" she whispered.

Puck's eyes narrowed at the woman's obvious nervousness. "What's on your mind, coach?"

"We're at the store." Roz grunted, ignoring the question. In a swift, fluid spin of the steering wheel, Roz parallel parked and got out. There still were no stragglers on the street, but her posture remained tight and attentive.

Finn groaned as he got out of the car and stretched his sore muscles. "God we need to get a new car." He grunted.

"I would've gotten the Super 8 motel if I had known we were going to pick up half of Lima." Roz muttered back.

"Dude, it was just two people." Finn shot back.

Roz turned and narrowed her eyes at Finn. "That's two more mouths to feed and two more asses we have to carry around." She walked over to the Prius and pulled out three athletic bags she had grabbed at the school.

"Guys, did you see the store?" Blaine asked with a furrowed brow.

The store looked completely ransacked. Its two glass windows had been completely shattered and the door situated in between the two hung only on its top hinge. Inside was completely dark.

"Crap." Puck said. "Someone was here first.

"Get in." Roz ordered tersely. "Look at every inch of that place. And don't miss a single one."

The group moved in, and those that had bats held them at the ready. Roz swung the door in and noticed that the bell didn't ring because it had been ripped down and was now on the floor. Inside the store wasn't much better. The narrow space had items littered all over the dirty floor from bullet casings to long rifles. Roz stopped and gave out the bags she had in her hand. "I want each one of these full before we leave." She said simply.

The group fanned out down the aisles they could walk down. One of the shelves had been knocked over, its contents spilled out on the floor. Blaine and Puck walked over and pulled it up, grunting with the effort. Underneath were around two dozen guns in assorted sizes. Puck smiled, a manic glint in his eye. "Jackpot baby."

Blaine chuckled. "I guess this would be the first time you'd get to use one legally."

"Hey, that was one time, bro." Puck grinned. "Let's pack these bad boys up."

Blaine hesitated. "Do you think this counts as stealing?"

Puck rolled his eyes and did not even hesitate piling the weapons in the bag. "Really dude? That's the first thing you think about? The racks are completely empty two rows down. We wouldn't be the first."

Blaine chewed at his lower lip but bent down and complied.

The store was shaped in an L, with the short end around a corner at the back of the store. Roz walked down the aisles, where gun accessories were laid out. The first thing she reached for were the silencers, which were few and far between. In total she found seven, two of which were broken. She swore silently but stowed the other five in her bag. Next she found the bullets which were almost completely gone. What was left was mostly scattered around on the ground.

She was going to reach down and collect them when a hand reached from across the shelves and grabbed her neck.

Finn had left his clothes crumpled in the classroom. Rachel sighed. It was so typical of him. By the summer, she thought, I'll be living with that. Then Rachel remembered with a start that she wouldn't. Her regularly bubbly self would've denied it, but these were extenuating circumstances and she knew in her heart of hearts that things could only get worse.

On her way back to the room, she walked by Sue's office, where the adults were huddling around a radio, gleaning any sort of information that they could. The door was shut tight but when she put her ear to the crack between the door and the doorframe, the things she heard didn't reassure her in anyway. She heard things like "mass chaos," "global crisis," and "last resort" being thrown around. Rachel knew from seventeen movies and three plays that words like those couldn't mean good things.

She grabbed the crumpled-up clothes and went to the bathroom in an attempt to wash them. As she was going through the clothes, she realized the shirt was gone. I must have dropped it somewhere Rachel thought. Retracing her steps, she walked back the way she came. His shirt was found crumpled on the ground.

Directly in front of Sue's office. And the room seemed, due to the lack of sounds coming from the room, vacant. When she walked up to Sue's office door, she saw that the adults had indeed left and the radio was sitting idly on the desk.

Rachel stopped dead in her tracks. The adults clearly didn't want any of the kids to hear the radio, but it couldn't be that bad. After all, if it was that bad, then whatever was going on would turn long-term and they'd all have to live with it. And the youngest of any of them was a junior. They deserved to hear.

Giving into her temptation, Rachel quietly crept into the office. The radio suddenly seemed to become the only thing in the room, and she swallowed hard as she sat down in one of the metal chairs, reaching to the electronic box and switching it on. All that came out was static, and it took some random turning of the dials for anything to come on.

"-zombie count is now surpassing thirty million. Your own army is fighting against this immense threat and is doing all they can. We can only stress the importance of staying indoors so not to spread the disease that started it all. On that topic, the virus has been traced back to chicken products produced by Tyson Industries. It is imperative that no one consumes its meat in order to prevent the virus from mutating even farther-"

The old radio burst into static. Rachel yelped and turned the volume down. "Getting bad out there, isn't it, Barbara?"

Rachel jumped and turned around to the door, where Sue Sylvester was leaning against the doorframe. "How'd you-"

"Get here? Well, Berry, getting thrown to the wolves in the mountains at the tender age of three can help you learn a thing or two, like the clever art of the hunt which entails silently stalking prey for their lupine young, and in this case, you're the lowly deer." Sue stalked over to her chair and sat down. Rachel just stared, gaping openmouthed at Sue.

She snapped back into reality. "I'm sorry Coach Sylvester. I'll umm, I'll just leave." Rachel said, getting up hurriedly from her chair.

"Sit down, Troll." Sue ordered. Rachel did as she was told. "What did you just listen to?"

Rachel scrunched her brow in confusion. "Ummm, the radio… But what-"

"Not the device. What he was saying." Sue clarified, crossing her hands over her supposedly burgeoning belly.

"The whole…. Zombie thing I guess. Nothing we didn't already know." Rachel said. "And the chicken thing…"

"Something your little Jesus friend has had lately, hasn't he?" Sue quipped.

"No… Not Joe… He hasn't done anything." Realization creeped over Rachel's face when it became apparent to her what the cheerleading coach was implying.

"That's exactly the point. This disease that's going around-it takes no prisoners." Sue growled, emphasizing the last part as she stared out the window to the empty parking lot. "You may hear otherwise, but no one here actually thinks that this will all blow over. You can see it in their eyes-it's like a bunch of sad and depressed puppies that got their lasagna taken away from a morbidly obese tabby cat."

"But Coach Sylvester," Rachel said confusedly. "What does that have to do with this?"

Sue gritted her teeth and turned her chair to face the unfortunately-dressed teenager. The light of the desk lamp accentuated her stern facial features, casting bizarre shadows of her eyes on defined cheekbones and illuminating her regularly pallid skin tone. "The point? How many of those things did the announcer report? Or were you too daft to listen to that too?"

Rachel stuck her jaw out in a small display of impudence. "It was thirty million, coach." She replied tersely, rising slowly from her chair. "And don't you dare speak to me that again."

A half-grin formed on the woman's face and she rose to face the teen. "Yesterday the number accounted for was ten million." Sue whispered a sound Rachel herself could hardly hear. "You should keep that fiery chutzpa, Berry. It suits you well and it'll get you far in this world. Be sure to tell that to Pillsbury Doughboy next time you two perform whatever craven mating rituals you must do during coitus. He's got a one way ticket to becoming mottled in bite marks if he doesn't grow a pair and start killing those things. Mind giving him one of yours?" Sue quipped. When Rachel didn't reply, Sue said "Now get the hell out of my office. I only have enough narwhal blubber for one smoothie and I don't want your deceased grandmother's turtleneck sweater to ruin it. I mean for the love of god have you seen the inside of a shopping mall in your lifetime?" With that, Sue sat down in her chair and did not look up.

For a second, Rachel did not move. She just stared at the trophy case behind the desk. Once she came to her senses, she, much like the wolves in the mountains, stalked away silently. Unbeknownst to the teen, Sue noticed this and chuckled as she pulled out her journal and began writing in it.

It astounded Rachel how little Sue's derogatory jibes seemed to faze her anymore. And now she was standing up to them and that the teacher was congratulating her for it? It was completely surreal.

She walked into the girls' bathroom, where Quinn had a handbag of various types of make up open at one sink. The long window near the ceiling was propped open and the misplaced sound of a bird chirping was heard. A single duffle bag sat next to the sink as well.

Rachel walked over to the adjacent sink. "Even in the apocalypse you have to be beautiful, don't you Quinn?" She asked, unconsciously fixing her hair.

Quinn, who was presently applying lip gloss, stopped and smiled. "Those monsters are going to be completely disarmed by my striking good looks and won't attack me." She joked.

"I doubt that'll happen." Rachel said with a laugh. She turned on the hot water and draped her boyfriend's clothes over the edge of the sink.

Quinn resumed her makeup applying. "To be truthful, it's just habit. After the… Lucy Caboosey incident…" Quinn said with a hard swallow. "I vowed to never go a day without makeup. And as far as I can tell, the world's ended but the days haven't stopped.

Rachel stopped testing the water for a satisfying temperature and glanced in the mirror. She walked over to Quinn's sink and stared from behind the blonde's shoulder. In the fluorescent light above the mirror, Quinn glowed while Rachel was swallowed in darkness behind her. "You're beautiful already Quinn. Some goop on your face and lips won't change that. I spend nearly an hour a day working on my skin and face."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Please we do not need this talk. We already sang Born This Way with all of our insecurities on t-shirts. I think we're well past talking about looks."

Rachel tittered uncomfortably from behind her. "Yeah that's true… It's so weird to think little things like that were what we worried about."

"Berry, calm your tits. We've been here for like a day. It hasn't been five years of hard living." Quinn said, capping the gloss and shoving it rather forcefully in the makeup clutch. She looked up and met Rachel's gaze. "That being said… It's sad to think of all of the memories we all made that led up to now. I'll miss them."

"Yeah…" Rachel muttered. "We'll make more; just not as happy ones I guess. Hey, Quinn? Do you have any soap in that bag?"

"Hmm?" Quinn asked, now doing her eyelashes. "Oh, soap. Yeah, I've got one in that bag there." She replied distractedly, gesturing indistinctly towards her duffle.

Rachel reached down towards it, beginning to unzip the main compartment. Quinn glanced down, and dropped her mascara. "No! Not that one!"

Rachel stopped, seeing the bag's contents. Two sets of gym clothes, a pack of aspirin and some food lay cluttered in the bag. "Quinn…. What's all this for?"

"Not the main compartment you idiot" Quinn screeched, scrambling to zip up the bag.

But the damage had already been done. Rachel rose quizzically, staring at Quinn. "Why do you have bags packed, Quinn?"

Unconvincingly, Quinn replied. "In case we get over run or something. It's good to have a bag to grab."

"Quinn." Rachel said forcefully. "What's the real reason?"

Quinn sighed in response. "I'm leaving this place, Rachel. Too many memories, too much history, too much pain. I didn't want anyone to see, but I guess I'll have to. Tell Brit and Santana I said bye." In a moment, Quinn had climbed atop the sink with the bags in tow and reached up and climbed onto the small window ledge, making even that look graceful.

"What? Quinn!" Rachel yelled, pounding her fists against the wall in protest, unable to reach the other girl. "You're not even armed!"

"Really Rachel, you think I'm that stupid?" Quinn scolded, dangling from the outside so that only her head was visible. "You should've looked in the jean jacket, then." She chided. Her head disappeared, and with that, Quinn was gone.

"Quinn! Come back!" Rachel yelled her fists scratched and red. Panting in exhaustion, she dashed from the bathroom and ran down the halls, screaming "Quinn is gone! Quinn is gone!"

The first person's attention she got was Burt's who poked his head out from an office. "Rachel, what are you-"

"It's Quinn! She was in the bathroom and then jumped out the window! She left!" Rachel exclaimed with fervor.

Burt wasn't buying it. "Rachel, are you sure this happened?"

"Yes!" She protested. "Please, come help me get her!" She tugged at the mechanic's hand, pulling him unwillingly toward the doors. The two burst from them and in a dash of white and blue, they saw Quinn run towards the far fence.

"Oh my god, how can that girl be so stupid!" Burt growled. "We have to get a car!"

The duo ran across the lot as fast as possible. In the middle of the parking lot, the car was halfway to the gate which Quinn was having difficulties of clearing. Her dress was constantly snagging on the gate as she climbed.

Burt jumped in the driver's seat and Rachel had hardly shut her door when he slammed on the accelerator. They reached the gate in no time, but it was too late. Quinn was gone. In her place, a small piece of fabric was stuck on the top of the gate.

Burt didn't even bother turning off the car and got out. Rachel followed, and the two simply stared at the piece of white fabric, shifting slightly in the breeze as if it was taunting the two of the now-lost teenager. Burt grimaced and reached up to pick the fabric off, but just as he did, it broke free of its restraint and floated away.

"We have to go looking for her, Mr. Hummel." Rachel pleaded. "We can't just leave her out there. Here, let's go move the car in front of this gate." She said, walking to the aforementioned opening.

The father just grabbed the collar of her sweater. "We can't Rachel. She's made her decision. Who are we to change that?" She opened her mouth to protest, but didn't say anything. Instead, Rachel kicked the fence uselessly, the links clanking loudly. "But why would she do this to herself… To us?"

Burt stared into the forest as if it would bring the blonde back. "That girl's always been a mystery to me. Even when she was dating Finn. She always had her own private agenda. If she wanted to be on her own…" The man trailed off, not wanting to say what came next. He bit his lip. "She's strong, Rachel," Burt finished, clearing his throat and getting in the car.

Rachel's fists clenched, but said nothing as she got back in the car also. It seemed beyond unfair to leave Quinn out by herself in… Well, whatever this was. She told herself it would get better soon. The government would have it all figure dout and in a week school would start back and America could start over. Her dads taught her to "find a light in a dark room" as they put it; Rachel figured that the only thing worse than this was Russell Crowe playing Javert in Les Miserables. Just as she was thinking all of this, the whirr of a helicopter came into existence. Faint at first, it quickly became louder until it came into view.

The exterior of the craft was painted exactly like war helicopters were in movies and the blades were fairly larger than usual. What became instantly frightening about it was how low it was flying-the skids were hardly thirty feet above the top of the school. Equally worrying was the speed with which it was flying. Two more crested the hill from which the primary helicopter came from, just as fast and as low as the first.

"What the hell?" Burt growled, slamming on the brakes. The two again emerged from the vehicle. Already, a group of five had gathered in the lot, including Sam, Sue, Mike, Tina, and Carole. Brittany and Santana soon came as well.

The first beastly machine shot over the lot, at breakneck speed rivaled only by a soccer mom getting her kid to practice on time. It seemed to not recognize the small group of people standing in the open, or to even acknowledge their existence at all.

"Hey!" Rachel screamed, futilely attempting to attract some attention. "Down here!"

The second machine flew past with as little disregard towards the people below as the first. It wasn't until the third helicopter that the slightest sign of recognition was shown. As it passed over the group, now including most everyone in the building, it slowed just slightly, only enough for everyone to realize that it's speed had slowed at all. As quickly as it had slowed, it sped up again and shot off, despite the force with which everyone was shouting.

Planes shot by next as the volume level rose louder still. They were the military fighter type with room for one passenger and there were five in a perfect V formation. The last plane on the left stopped, breaking formation and hovering above the crowd, barely heard above the din. The four abandoned planes circled, but they were not as quick as the fifth, which swiftly turned back the way it came, then turned back, facing the oncoming four. It put on full throttle and blasted forward. Just as it once again reached the parking lot, a small black speck shot out of the plane, which promptly nosedived and exploded in a plume of fire and smoke in the forest. The planes were obviously angry, but without a second thought, flew off with the helicopters towards their previous destination.

The sounds of machinery faded away and the speck above suddenly expanded as the parachute opened and the parachutist floated towards the ground below.

"Rogers, we've got twenty miles left till Cleveland. Over." The radio of the first helicopter crackled.

The third, with the aforementioned Rogers as pilot, smiled. "Just a little bit more, Martindale." Rogers responded, not bothering to use the ubiquitous "over."

Martindale flew over a hill, and in front of him lay a high school. "Look at this, boys. We've got us a school. Look at all those fences." Martindale marveled. As he got closer, he saw the group of people and the stopping car. "Lucky bastards. Got the whole place to themselves."

"There's people there?" another voice asked over the system. It was McCready, pilot of the last plane in his formation. His question was full of static.

"Yeah, dumb ass." Rogers chuckled. "Gonna be in for a hell of a surprise for what's coming."

"We can't kill them!" McCready yelled. "It's a bunch of kids! I went to that school."

Rogers slowed above the crowd, looking at the name of the school. "McKinley High, huh? Sounds like a pansy-ass school to me. Listen, McCready. Our orders were to napalm the city and go. You're a military-man. You've got the seat of honor in the apocalypse."

"It's not right! We can't do this!" McCready screamed. "They're people, surviving on their own. Whatever happened to 'by the people, for the people?'"

"We're being for the people by putting them out of their misery. All that's coming is hardship and struggle for them. It's a public service." Martindale growled.

"I'm not going to do this. The government's not going to rest on their laurels while we kill everyone. That's anarchy!" McCready's voice was now deafeningly loud.

"That sure as hell is what we're doing." Martindale's gravelly voice responded.

"I'm stopping." McCready said simply.

"MCCREADY! DON'T YOU DARE!" Martindale yelled. "Jones, Berring, Tarvis, Costa-TURN AROUND!" He ordered the four other planes, who easily complied.

The helicopters did a one-eighty where they could see McCready stopped above the parking lot. The planes were hot on his trail, but McCready was faster. While the pilots were yelling various obscenities, the plane pushed forward…

"McCready!" Rogers and Martindale yelled.

It all happened so fast. McCready ejected and the now-vacant plane was headed towards the jets and helicopters. Below, the plane crashed and exploded, catching Rogers' and Martindale's skids on fire.

"Aaaagh!" The pilots yelled, quickly flying away towards an even more perilous future.

Put simply, the crowd in the McKinley parking lot was chaos.

"What are we doing about Bomber Joe up there?" Santana yelled. "It's getting dark and now we've got a kamikaze pilot trying to land on our parking lot!"

"What about Roz's group?" Carole shot back worriedly. "They still haven't come back.

"And Quinn?" Rachel chimed in. "There's now a mushroom cloud in the middle of the forest she just ran into!"

"Everyone!" Sue roared, instantly quieting all extraneous discussion. "I swear, you're all louder than an '86 Madonna concert. In the cafeteria. Now. Adults, stay out here." Sue ordered and despite a vociferous rebuttal from the kids, they took one look at Sue's glare and stalked inside.

The parachutist was drifting ever closer towards the group. In little time at all, he easily landed a hundred or so feet away from the group of four. Sue bounded over to the man.

"What in the name of Olivia Newton John's handbag are you doing here?" Sue yelled. The man seemed to take little notice as he pulled his helmet off.

"What was that?" The man asked, shaking his sandy-colored hair out, throwing his helmet to the ground.

"Just that you are landing on our parking lot without so much as an invitation. As a matter of fact-"

"I'm sorry about her." Emma said evenly, interrupting the cheer coach. She's a little hot-headed. I'm Emma Pillsbury. I am-umm, was- the guidance counselor here." She said, extending her hand out to the military-man.

He smiled. "Jared McCready. I was a jet pilot for the military. And you saw how well that worked out."

Sue stopped blithering and narrowed her eyes at the man. "What makes you think you have any semblance of permission to land on this school's property?" she asked, spittle flying from her lip.

"Well, ma'am, as far as I can tell, this school is public property. So I have every right to be here." The man replied, with a slight half-smile playing upon his lips. There was a faint southern lilt to his tone with a southern tan to match. "I mean you no harm. I saw on my way down that you had a bunch of kids?"

"Sixteen of them, as a matter of fact, but you'd be quicker to see my backside than a single one of them." Sue shot back, all malice quite evident in her voice.

"What she means," Emma interpreted for the angry woman. "Is that we do have a large group of teenagers here-the apocalypse did happen during school. And we'd just like to know why you ejected out of that plane to get here."

"Ah." McCready replied. "That was a hasty decision on my part, but it's not one I regret. Those men you saw in those jets and helicopters were flying towards the city with large amounts of napalm so they could… Eradicate most of the human population.

Carole gasped and clutched her heart. "Why were they doing that?"

The pilot sighed. "To be honest with you, I know why, but it still doesn't make sense after seeing all of you here. The government called a red alert, and then eventually ordered any important government figures and some of the military to DC to hide in their top-secret bunker. We were going to napalm any large cities to stop the disease from spreading, you see. I'm ashamed to say I was briefly a part of that."

"The government was going to turn on us that quickly?" Burt asked. "That's crazy."

"It's the truth. And as we flew over your school, and I saw you're large group managing to survive… It gave me hope. So I cut myself away from them and came here." McCready said.

"And we're supposed to welcome you with open arms?" Sue asked menacingly.

"I was hoping so. And if you're one of the hostile groups, I am more than willing to leave." McCready reasoned.

"Sue." Emma said firmly. "I'm sorry for her. Of course you can stay. We have more than enough food and room for you. Sheets are the one thing we don't have though."

He smiled to her. "Thank you, ma'am. Now, out of curiosity… Have you had any deaths here?"

Emma swallowed hard, and clutched the brooch on her sweater. "One. He was my fiancée, and…." She stopped, feeling the warmth and blurriness around her eyes from the all-too-familiar tears.

"My apologies. You seemed to have secured premises and I was only wondering." McCready responded, his voice full of genuine concern.

"Can we get you something to eat?" Carole asked with a smile.

"That would be wonderful…" He drifted off, not knowing Carole's name.

"Carole." She said. "Now, let's…" She stopped, hearing a noise at the gates.

At the main entrance to the school, Puck was hastily shoving it open. Roz climbed over the cars in the way and ran at full force towards the group.

She was clearly winded by the running and stopped at the group of adults, stooping with her hands on her knees.

"Roz!" Emma gasped. "What happened? Where are the kids? Where's the car?"

The swim coach held up her hand, asking for a moment. When she finally caught her breath, she stood up straight. "It's the group. We've lost one."

A/N-And with that, we (finally) have the sixth chapter. Huge apologies to everyone, I became extremely swamped with school, dance and everything else. I had to push this to the side and had to straighten out any B's I had in classes. Then generally, I had some difficulties with this chapter. It became a beast of its own as I wrote it. You were supposed to find out what happened with Roz's group in this chapter, but after I added McCready and the military, it got to be over 6,000 words and decided to split it into two parts. I know how fond all of you are of cliffhangers ;)

What was astounding as I worked on this in the past months was the amount of people reading it. It's been three and a half months since and update, but it continues to be read, reviewed, followed, and favorited. So far, I've had 15 favorites and 24 followers, and I am extremely happy with all of the positive response I've been getting. It is the most exciting thing to me, and I thank each and every one of you for following me through this crazy idea I hatched. I would lovelovelovelovelove it if you would all review it as we start to get to the meat of the story. So as always, plead read and review

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