Notes: I have to really work on Mickey's speech. Since he's based on my own son, I'm trying my best to duplicate his speech at the age of four. He's six now and I find myself trying to write Mickey's parts in the language of a six year old – but then again, each child is different…in fact, my nephew is four and can speak better than most eight year olds.

And for the curious, I do know how I'm going to end this – I've just got to figure out how to get there. Honestly, I'm still playing around with what Simon's full role will be.

-6-

When I woke, shadows had crept onto the bedroom window. The sun still shone brilliantly outside; but it had traveled into the western sky. Night was still hours away. I had always liked the night time. It was peaceful and serine. Now it was also a source of safety.

Life was always throwing ironic twist in and we were left with no choice but to catch them.

Mickey stirred under the arm I had draped over him. Soft moans puffed from his slack lips. I rose on my elbow and inspected him. His face twisted in distaste. Another moan, louder, crawled from his throat.

"Mickey?" I shook him slightly to wake him from his nightmare. "Mama's here. Come on buddy boy, wake up for mama."

Mickey opened his large blue eyes. After allowing his vision to swim across the ceiling for a few short seconds, he found me. Once recognition set in, the tears came. He reached out for me while sobbing. With his arms locked around my neck, he no longer held back. He wailed.

Within seconds Simon appeared at the door. "Is he 'kay? What's wrong?"

I twisted on the bed, bringing Mickey off the sheets and into my lap. "He had a nightmare. He'll be fine."

I tried to smile and succeeded when I got a good look at Simon. Apparently he had fallen asleep on the couch. His yellow hair jetted from his scalp far from uniformity.

I stood, keeping a very clingy Mickey in my arms. Simon retreated, allowing me passage out of the bed room. Once in his living room the first thing to draw my attention was the dog perched attentively at the window. The blinds had been raised to allow natural light in.

As my footsteps softly reached Cherokee, her ears perked but her eyes did not waver. Curiosity bound me to observe her point of interest. I used my free hand to pet her lightly on the head as I approached the window.

One story below us, trampling the lush grass, a steady stream of zappies ventured. Just beyond the grass were a sidewalk and the main road. Lenard Road, the same road I had used the night before, gave way to an assault as more zappies treaded along the asphalt.

It was strange to watch them walk. For some reason I was expecting to see something straight from Resident Evil. I shivered. I couldn't understand why, but deep in my gut I was wishing for blood thirsty zombies over what I was witnessing. I tried to rationalize with myself to no avail. These – whatever they had become – were not killing anymore. Their uniformity was what was frightening.

"Mama?" Mickey's voice was small and unsteady. "I don see da lady."

Keeping my eyes on the wanderers below, I turned my face slightly in his direction. "What lady?"

"Da lady who hurt really bad."

Now he had my full attention. "Mickey, what lady. Please, help me understand."

He pointed a pudgy finger, touching the glass. "Der. I saw her standing by da tree."

Across the yard was a single tree. Obviously the designers had stationed the tree alone so to add some form of landscaping beauty.

"I didn't see any lady there. Are you sure Mickey?"

He hummed. "In my dweam. She was right there and with lots of boo-boos."

I looked at Simon who had turned pale. He turned his head slowly to return my stare. There was dullness in his eyes. With slack lips his mouth hung slightly ajar.

"Simon?"

"I…dreamed…"

In one quick rush, I jumped to the nearest conclusion my sci-fi mind had grasped. "Don't tell me – you dreamed of her too?"

"Well…no, not really."

"Then what?"

When he didn't respond fast enough I grunted. My grunt must have shaken him loose from what ever trance he was under. His eyes darted straight for the tree and then back to me.

"I didn't dream of a lady, but I did dream of a lot of…blood marks on that tree."

If it hadn't been my sweet, innocent child who had told me with such honesty I don't think I would have believed it. Simon had no reason to lie; and judging by how much color his face lost I was sure he wasn't.

"But, I didn't dream a thing. Well, I did dream. But not of this place."

His brown eyes regained some pigment. "What did you dream?"

I nodded my head and released a nervous chuckle. "My dreams are a bit…strange. They really don't make much sense. They never have."

I paused long enough to put Mickey on the floor beside Cherokee. He hugged the dog with one arm. His other hand pressed to the window as he observed the parade below. Under normal circumstances I would have censored him from the view; but normal wasn't reality and I knew I couldn't hide the truth from him. Most parents strive to hide things from their kids; and with good reason. Though I would often choose my words when explaining things, I never tried to hide the truth from my child. He needed to learn to survive in the world and I wouldn't always be there for him. I never knew until that moment just how much his survival depended on reality.

"What about your dream?" I asked Simon. "Was that all there was?"

Simon hesitated but once he looked me in the eyes, he found strength. "No…there was this voice. It was more like a disembodied voice coming from outside but inside all at once. It said to make way to the capital."

"Capital of what?" As soon as the words left my mouth I mentally slapped myself. The dream had installed apprehension in Simon and was more like a nightmare than a dream. He was clearly afraid of something and I was letting his fear infect me.

"I'm not sure but I had the feeling it wanted me to travel east."

I caught myself before I asked about this 'it'. Instead, I added just enough harshness to my voice to deter any further discussion but not to the point I came across uncaring – a skill learned by most parents. "It was just a dream. Let's try to worry more about what we do next. I intend to get to the EAC one way or the other."

"Well then I suggest we get set to head out at sun down. The only thing bothering me is that we are going to same direction they are."

I followed his finger to the window. The steady stream of zappies had just started to dwindle. I glanced at my watch. Only two hours left till dark.

-7-

My mother half was at war with my sensible half as I watched Mickey walk along side Cherokee. He was in no mood for the stroller and I knew the exercise would be good for him. Still, I was ready to grab him on a moment's notice. If trouble came up, I wanted to be able to pull him from harm's way.

The night was dark and the absence of street lights only added a feeling of despair to it. To the left and right Simon and I were able to shine enough light to guide us efficiently. Mickey's beam bobbed sporadically. He played with his flashlight and I didn't have the heart to spoil his fun.

For the first few hours neither of us talked. Occasionally Mickey would refer to a horror flick I had caught him watching one day. I had promptly turned the channel but not before the boy was struck with a fascination of mummies.

"It's quiet."

There. I had just voiced the main concern on my mind. Even the normal night sounds were muted. There were no crickets, which did tend to stay up even in October. North Carolina is known for its ever changing climate. This is a place where spring and fall merely last a week or two. Usually winter was marked when the temperature went from seventy eight degrees one day to thirty six the next.

"I don't like it."

I hummed my agreement with Simon. "Where is everyone? I'm glad we haven't run into any zappies, but where are the norms?"

"Perhaps," he spoke in a cracking voice, "we are the only one's left."

"Well then, maybe we should just stop here and start construction on our tree houses. Whatcha say? Get married and teach our kids to swing from vine to vine and live off tha land?"

He gave me a weary smile. "Do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Try and make light of every hard situation in your way."

I shrugged. "I guess. I've always been an optimistic pacifist. When life throws crap at me I try my best to laugh about it. It's been the only thing that's gotten me through some really tough times."

"I can understand that. I mean, raising a child alone."

I waved my hand dismissively. "Raising Mickey is something I would never give up. I hear a lot of women look for pity over being a single mom. It's not easy, but it's worth it. I don't want, nor do I think I've earned pity. In fact there are advantages to being a single mom. Tax returns…having free rein to discipline him the way I see fit…my whole college education was paid for because of him. And those things are only material things. I've got a strong bond with him. And he helps me through a lot of struggles because I find the strength to handle a lot more than I thought possible just thinking of what I can do for him."

"You are a strange creature, Helen Ashen. Your humor is silly mixed with sarcasm, but when ya talk about Mickey your whole persona changes."

I patted him on the shoulder. "Thanks, I think. Anyway, if my sarcasm runs away with me then let me know. I'm anxious to see my brother. I can't stop worrying about him and probably wont until I see he's okay for myself."

About that time Mickey stopped ahead of us. Shining the light under his chin he started to moan. He raised one hand in front of him, palm down and fingers dangling. "I am the mommy! Grrrr. Beware the mommy's curse."

I couldn't help it. That one act of pure innocence sent me into an uncontrollable laughing fit.

"Well then, there's no doubtin' that's your youngin. He's got his mom's sense of humor alright."

It took me several minutes to recover from Mickey's mummy act and Simon's comment. When I did I was startled back to reality with a jolt. We weren't a lone anymore.

Two more people had approached us. The engulfing dark made it hard to see, but they were both male and appeared to be sane. Or at least I was hoping they were sane since they were in closer proximity to Mickey than I approved of.

Both men were considerably old. The one that introduced himself as Mack had a full head of white hair. His partner, Benny, hadn't been graced to keep his hair. Both seemed friendly enough, but my guard went up automatically.

"So, where yaw headed to?" Mack asked. His southern draw was crisper than most. I found it charming because it reminded me of the grandfather I lost nearly 15 years ago.

"Nowhere in particular," Simon answered before I could catch my voice.

I moved closer to Mickey until I had my arm around his shoulders. "How about you two?"

"Well miss, seems we're headed east," Benny replied. He raised an eyebrow. "Had any indication to head that way yurselves?"

"Da lady with the boo-boos told ya to go, didn't her?"

I pulled Mickey closer to me and shushed him gently. "Let's not talk about that, okay buddy boy?"

"No," Mack said taking half a step closer to us. I could tell he was keeping his distance at a respectful length. He obviously didn't want to frighten either of us. "He's right."

I inspected his face before movement grabbed my attention. Wavering my eyes from Mack I found that Cherokee had taken a liking to Benny. She sat contently at his side as he scratched her diligently behind the ears.

"So you saw that lady too?"

At that moment I was glad Simon was out of range. I wanted nothing more than to slap him. I had convinced myself hours ago that the fantasy of a shared dream was fiction. I didn't need to be reminded of it.

"Sure did. Thought it was just a dream until Benny here said he saw the same. Now I'm not one to go believin' in rubbish like that but takin' what's goin' on round here it don't seem like a bad notion."

I bit down on my bottom lip until it throbbed. I was flabbergasted and didn't even know how to respond to this conversation. At the same time the morbid part of me felt left out. I didn't understand why everyone had dreamed of something and why I was left out of the loop.

"Mack here thinks it might be some form of shared hysteria but I thinks it's the work of the good Lord. He's roundin' up the sheep, he is."

"Either way," Mack said picking up where Benny left off, "we think the only way to find out is to see fer ourselves."

"That's odd…" Simon mumbled to himself loud enough for us to hear. "Mickey saw the lady, I only hear her. Helen didn't dream it at all."

"Ya don't say," Mack replied giving me a query look. "And what did ya dream 'bout?"

I shook my head, recalling vividly what I had dreamed of. Yesterday, as I slept I dreamt of making it to the EAC. The dream started off pleasant enough until I actually got inside the arena. Once white walls presented mural after mural of bloody hand prints. Splattered gore rested lifeless along corners. Bones littered the floors. And my brother was there; but already dead. His head had been strategically placed on the floor waiting for me to find it.

I made a face that was unmistakable. In short order, the men backed away and allowed me room to run to the nearest clear spot. Once again I found the entire contents of my stomach scattered along the ground.

After I was done regurgitating, I gagged. Oh how I hated throwing up. I never even threw up when I was pregnant! I felt shame that recalling a dream could cause me to purge myself so hastily. It was just a dream after all. There was no lady in my dreams.

By the time I had straightened up, Simon and Mickey were by my side.

"Helen?"

"I'm fine. Just stressed out. I always get like this when I'm stressed." I hadn't lied but hadn't told the full truth. I would get nauseated when extremely stressed but never this bad.

Simon stretched his arm around my shoulder; giving me much needed support. Every time my eyes closed I could see the decapitated head of my brother. His eyes were wide open in fear but his lips were slack without concern. An odd combination that added just the right hint to flip my stomach over. Along with blood matted hair, he was the perfect picture of a B rated horror flick. Only, the special effects were all too real.

"I'm sorry," I apologized in a shaky voice. I wrapped my mind around every image I could to force the nightmarish memory away.

My head was spinning as I glanced around. Both men were looking at me with clear concern and Mickey was giving me his saddest face. I steadied myself and broke way from Simon. After fishing out a bottle of water, along with two aspirin, I sat on the curb to enjoy my replacement meal. The aspirin didn't fill my stomach but it did help my head.

"If-in it's okay with you folks, I think we would be safer travelin' together."

I started to disapprove before Simon cut me off. "Yeah, I think that's a great idea."

Boy he was lucky I was sitting and he was standing. That was the second slap he would have received if not for the obstacle of distance. It wasn't that I didn't like Mack and Benny. Neither one of them gave me the creeps. What I didn't want near me were a couple of guys that would promote more talk of dreams.

If it weren't for the freaky gang of zappies earlier and this whole 'end of the world' bit, I would have found talk of shared visions fascinating. The truth of it was that I was scared. I understood that my fear was holding me back from my normal friendly behavior, but I couldn't help it. These dreams were scaring me more than the zappies.

But in the end I held my tongue. As much as I dreaded more talk of dreams I knew that there was safety in numbers. After it was settled that we would travel together Benny finally revealed that he had a shot gun in his possession. He had hidden it out of sight hoping not to turn us off.

His gun gave me some comfort. At least these guys weren't stupid. As far as their age went, I knew they wouldn't hold us up much. It wasn't a fast procedure traveling with a child and the extra company might be good for Mickey. That was, if I could keep this talk of night visions from floating to the surface too frequently.