The screams were not close, they were in fact far off in the distance, but Davy was still tense, ready for the infected to appear any moment. Of course, he didn't have much to worry about. Ronda had taught him how to use an iron bar he'd found on an evening round check, and he was with both Ronda and Peter (Ronda carrying her usual bat and Peter reluctantly carrying a pocket knife).

They were out on a supply run. Winter was coming and the usual stores had run out of supplies. This was forcing the group to go further and further out to scavenge supplies. They were about three or four miles away from the pad, Davy and Peter poking around a supermarket that was nearly picked bone thin, with Ronda on the lookout.

The infected numbers were rising as well. Mike predicted that things were going to turn south soon or later, with winter coming and the food running out. And what was long expected has been happening… now the infected seemed to be coming back in numbers.

Scrounging up every last can he could find, Davy wandered back to the front of the store.

"See anything?" he whispered to Ronda.

"No," the woman shook her head.

Davy hopped up onto one of the nearby checkout counters and looked through the bag he was carrying. It wasn't much food.

"Get down," Ronda hissed suddenly, tapping her bat four times against the floor.

Davy hopped off the checkout counter, ducking behind it. Peter came out of an aisle, hurrying quickly over to where Davy was hiding. Ronda pressed herself against the wall, bat at the ready.

They waited, a heavy silence filling the room. Then the door opened. Ronda swung, her bat colliding with the midsection of a woman. The woman stumbled backwards, hunched over, clutching at her stomach. Ronda raised her bat for another hit, but the woman held up a hand.

"Please, stop, wait," she wheezed.

"She's not infected," Ronda announced. Davy and Peter scrambled out from their hiding spot.

"Sorry, are you alright?" Peter asked.

The woman straightened up, looking over the three before her.

"Yes, I'm fine, just a little winded," the woman replied.

"Who the hell are you?" Davy asked, "And what are you doing here?"

He didn't like the look of this woman. She seemed… shifty. There was something about her that made her seem… untrustworthy, although Davy wasn't entirely sure what that something was.

"My name is Doctor Victoria Wilkins, I'm a scientist," the woman answered, "I'm traveling to my facility in Turnersville, Oregon. Thought I would stop in this place and see if there was anything I could pick up."

"Your facility?" Ronda echoed.

"Yes, I'm trying to find a cure. I'm utilizing the church's hospital there. They don't have everything I need, but they have enough to get by with," Dr. Wilkins confirmed.

"There's not much left in the store," Davy stated, "We cleared the last of the stuff out just seconds ago."

"I'm sure I'll find something useful," Dr. Wilkins smiled. For some reason, it gave Davy the willies.

"Well… we best be on our way," Ronda said, glancing at Davy and Peter. From the look exchanged, Davy got the feeling that Ronda didn't think this doctor was trustworthy either.

"Do you have a camp nearby?" Dr. Wilkins questioned.

"We move from place to place," Davy immediately responded.

"I could offer you a place at the church," Dr. Wilkins began, "There's plenty of room and food, and it would be warm for winter."

"We do alright on our own," Ronda informed Wilkins.

"I'm sure you do, but I don't know if you know this, but there's been a migration of infected coming from the north to the south," Dr. Wilkins added.

What was this woman up to? It seemed as if she were trying to sell them this deal. It made both Davy and Ronda feel uncomfortable. It just made Peter feel itchy.

"We do alright by ourselves," repeated Ronda.

"Alright, I'll tell you what. Talk to your group about my offer and come back tomorrow, ready to leave if you decide to take it up. I'll be leaving at around noon, so if you don't show I'll assume that your group decided against coming," Dr. Wilkins said.

"That sounds good," Peter chirped before Ronda or Davy could decline.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow, if I see you," Dr. Wilkins grinned. With that finished, Davy, Ronda, and Peter exited the store. They began their trek home.

"What do you think that was about?" Davy asked.

"I'm not sure, but I believe you should take it," Ronda stated. Both Peter and Davy were pretty surprised by this comment.

"Really?" Peter frowned.

"Yes," Ronda confirmed, "I believe you could board up the pad securely enough so that nothing and no one would break in. We go with that doctor woman to this camp or whatever, live off of their supplies for the winter, and then head up to Washington to see if Heather's aunt is still alive before coming back to the pad."

"Live off of their supplies?" Peter echoed.

"It makes sense… Winter's going to be hard and the supplies around here are running low," Davy saw the sense in what Ronda was suggesting.

"Of course, we should inquire about what the others think," said Ronda.

Later that evening, after the meager supper, the topic of what had happened was brought up.

"I believe we should take the offer up on a temporary basis," Ronda concluded.

"But we have a good thing going for us here," Micky pointed out.

"Yeah, I agree!" Heather agreed. Although she did want to go find her aunt and cousin, there was a part of her that didn't. What if they were dead? Or worse, infected?

"We wouldn't be leaving permanently though, we'd come back," Davy reminded the two of them.

"I believe it's a good idea," Isaac voiced "It would give us a chance to look for more supplies, possibly find out about Heather's family, and we could equip better weapons to help us improve our life here at the pad upon our return."

"Well what do you think Mike?" Peter asked, having already stated that he was alright with either staying or leaving.

"I dunno, really… both arguments make sense, I'm just not sure if we should trust this lady. I mean, she said she was tryin' to find a cure, right? So what if she finds out your immune, Peter?" Mike said.

"Peter's immunity would provide a cure, if we found out what made him immune," stated Isaac.

"I could help Dr. Wilkins come up with a cure," Peter beamed.

"You never trust the doctors in science fiction movies," Micky piped up, then glanced at Isaac, "No offense man."

"None taken," Isaac assured Micky.

"Let's take a vote on it I guess," Mike sighed, "Peter can take count since he seems on both sides."

"Okay, all for staying," Peter said.

Micky and Heather both raised their hands in unison.

"Now everyone for leaving," Peter continued.

Ronda and Davy raised their hands immediately. Then Isaac rose his hand into the air. And finally, Mike did as well.

"Guess it seems we're leaving for this church facility," Peter announced.

"Davy, Ronda, we better go see in the morning what wood and stuff we can find so's we can start getting ready to board this place up," Mike instructed, standing up and stretching.

"We only have until noon," Ronda reminded him.

"That means we'll have to all pack tonight," Micky sounded a little bit bummed.

"Man this is such a drag," grumbled Heather.

"Cheer up love, you might get to see some of your family!" Davy said cheerily.

Heather nodded her head, although a part of her still didn't want to. Mike found four backpacks for himself, Micky, Peter, and Davy. Heather, Ronda, and Isaac already had fairly large backpacks that had been unused for quite some time now.

They all packed most of everything they had, which wasn't too much. Everyone had a decent amount of empty space, especially the boys who hadn't traveled much since the early days of the outbreak.

Micky didn't get much sleep. He was worried. The pad was a safe place, a place where they could defend themselves and knew that it worked. If they left, well there was no guarantee that they could still defend themselves. For the first night in a while, Davy slept extremely well. The morning came sooner than usual, it felt that way to the whole gang.

Heather made breakfast while Ronda, Davy, and Mike gathered up material to properly board up the pad. Micky loaded up the Monkeemobile. They had all agreed that it would be best if they took the car. Dr. Wilkins obviously would have some sort of ride of her own.

Mike, Peter, Isaac, and Heather would go with Dr. Wilkins, if she did indeed have a car, while Micky, Ronda, and Davy would travel in the Monkeemobile. Although Ronda had argued that it should be the other way around, Mike and Isaac insisted that this way would be safer.

After breakfast, everyone helped board up the pad and make it look as run down as possible without damaging anything. Davy noticed that Mike and Peter's guitar cases were missing from the patio. He wandered outside and saw Heather shoving the Michael's into the trunk of the Monkeemobile.

"We aren't bringing those babe," Davy informed her. Heather whirled around.

"Oh, oh sorry," Davy chuckled.

"It's okay," Heather quickly assured him, "And I know you guys said we shouldn't bring them… but I figure we can maybe barter with some tunes or something… I don't want you guys not to have them if anything goes wrong. I even stashed your maracas in there."

"Barter with tunes," Davy shook his head smiling, "Alright, I'll give. I think Mike'll really appreciate having his guitar around, even if he says it's just taking up space."

"That's what I thought too," Heather beamed.

"You have all your stuff in your backpack?" Davy questioned.

"Yes, it's been awhile since I've had to use it… it still smells the same, like home," Heather nodded her head.

"Good. Now, come help us finish fixing up the pad," Davy said. Heather nodded again and went inside with Davy.

It was eleven o'clock when everyone was ready. They piled into the Monkeemobile, a cramp fit to say the least, and drove back to the store that Davy, Peter, and Ronda had met Dr. Wilkins. They drove in silence, each one either nervous, excited, or dreading what the future was going to bring next.

Driving was much quicker than walking. Soon they arrived at the store. Mike put the car into park and took the keys out of the ignition.

"Alright, Peter, Isaac and Heather, let's go meet Dr. Wilkins," Mike said, "Micky, I want you driving."

Micky nodded and, after Mike had clambered out, he took Mike's place in the driver's seat. The others exited the car, saying a few last words to the ones who would be staying in the Monkeemobile, and then followed Peter into the store.

Dr. Wilkins was a thin woman, with frizzy greybrown hair pulled back into a ponytail. In the light of solid day, Peter thought she reminded him of an eagle or some other bird of prey.

"I see you and your group talked my offer over ," she directed her words towards Peter.

"We did," Peter confirmed. Mike stepped forward and held out his hand. Dr. Wilkins took it and shook.

"My name's Mike," the Texan introduced himself, "And that's Isaac and Heather, I'm assuming you've already met Peter."

"You sound like you're a bit of a stretch away from home," Dr. Wilkins observed. Mike didn't answer.

"Our other group members are in the car outside," Isaac continued for Mike. Dr. Wilkins peered out of the front window of the store.

"I see… a colourful car," she murmured.

"There's only room for them in it. We had to walk," Heather piped up, saying what Ronda had told her to say.

"That's no problem. I've acquired my own car, that the four of you are welcome to," said Dr. Wilkins as she crouched down behind a cash register and pulled out a large, overstuffed backpack.

Mike spied a small radio in the pocket of the backpack. He thought that interesting and wondered the intentions behind this woman. So far, she seemed nice enough. But he knew better than to trust anyone who gave him a creeping sense of unease.

"We should get going. We're heading to Turnersville, Oregon. It's not too far, I'd estimate about four hours, as long as both of the cars don't sputter out," Dr. Wilkins informed them, heading towards the front doors.

"And then we're going…?" Isaac prompted.

"We're going to Turnersville Church of Faith. That's where I'm taking you. The people there are nice," Dr. Wilkins answered before slipping out the front doors.

The others followed her. Isaac stopped to tell Micky that he was to follow the car Dr. Wilkins was driving. Micky nodded and started up the car. The other four clambered into what they had thought was an abandoned car. Mike sat in the passenger's side up front with Dr. Wilkins, while Isaac, Peter, and Heather sat cramped in the back seat.

The talk in the car was guarded, to say the least. Heather and Peter were quiet, not wanting to give away any information that Dr. Wilkins could use against them, if she turned out to be an enemy and not a friend. What was said was said by Michael and Isaac.

Dr. Wilkins inquired about their rooming situations, their food supply, how the group had come together. Before they had left, Davy had let everyone know that he had told Dr. Wilkins that they moved from place to place, and so they would stick with that story.

If anyone asked, Heather was Micky's niece. They had all lived in California at least a year before the outbreak occurred and were relatively friends before as well. They went from place to place, trying to stay safe, and were trying to make their way to the coast.

That was the story they had all agreed upon.

And so Mike and Isaac carefully answered Dr. Wilkins's questions, still keeping a guarded sense even to their made up story so as to make it seem more real. Dr. Wilkins answered the few questions that Isaac and Mike asked in return, although there wasn't much information to gather from the answers.

Eventually both Peter and Heather fell asleep, Peter's head resting on Isaac's left shoulder and Heather's head resting on his right. Mike made a point to remember as much as he could of the way Dr. Wilkins was taking them, knowing that the others in the Monkeemobile were (hopefully) doing the same thing.

And they were. Micky and Davy talked at length about different things, random and meaningless, but they did take note on the way they were going. Ronda did as well, although she took the hours to sleep rather than talk or pay attention.

In the end it did take around four hours to get to the town. They had left sometime around noon, 12:03 or something, and when they arrived in Turnersville it was 4:06 in the evening. The town looked dead. Windows were busted in almost every store and most of the homes they passed were boarded up and empty.

Dr. Wilkins navigated the roads and it seemed with each turn the Monkeemobile got further and further behind. This didn't bother anyone, that was until a woman on a bicycle peddled into the road and stood there, causing Micky to veer right to avoid hitting her.

Micky got the wind knocked out of him and Davy was bleeding from a small abrasion he had received from his head colliding with the passengers side window. As Micky got air back into his lungs, he watched as the car holding Peter, Mike, Isaac, and Heather continued on and disappeared around a bend. He swore loudly, unbuckling himself.

"Is everyone alright?" Davy asked, hand going to his head.

"We have to get after them," Micky grumbled, putting the car into reverse.

"Look," Ronda stopped him, pointing towards the woman who had nearly caused them an accident.

She had pulled her bike off to the side and was heading towards the Monkeemobile. She was unarmed, something all three of them thought strange.

"We should see what she's up too," Davy suggested, "The others are probably far ahead by now, I mean might as well."

Micky still wasn't sure about that but it didn't look like he had much of a choice because the woman was already knocking on the driver's side window. Micky rolled the window down.

"Are you guys alright?" she asked. It was a question Micky hadn't expected.

"Yes, we're fine," Davy piped up.

"Good, I'm sorry about nearly killing you guys," the woman apologized, "I'm Tara. I'm assuming you were heading to the church, right?"

"How did you know?" Ronda questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Saw Dr. Wilkins in the front seat of that other car. She's been taking people to the church for so long now, it's so sad. That church might have once belonged to God but not it's for the devil," Tara answered.

"For the devil?" Micky echoed, a frown creasing his brow.

"The church goers who are still surviving within the walls of the church, the ones that Dr. Wilkins has… aligned with I guess, they don't like strangers very much. They think this is the rapture and they are awaiting the anti-christ. A lot of the strangers Dr. Wilkins brings home… they die," Tara explained.

Micky got a sinking feeling in his stomach when Tara said 'die'.

"How do you know this?" Ronda wondered.

"My brother, George, and I, we were in a rock and a hard place couple of months back. Dr. Wilkins found us, offered us safety at the church. But when we got there, we were herded into this basement where some other people were. We found out they were using the people Dr. Wilkins brought back to lure away infected from the town. That's why it's so empty," Tara informed the trio.

"Oh god," Micky groaned and he rested his head against the steering wheel. Mike, Peter, Heather, and Isaac were walking right into a trap.