After breakfast I kiss the teenager, say goodbye, and head out. I'm not sure what I'm looking for, but I look. I need a way to transport two people and supplies, so I head back to the car. If I can save it, great. If I can't, oh well. I don't find any zombies on my way there, but I can see the signs of them. Scratch marks on the road, bits of limbs, and smears of blood. When I find the car I groan, the machine a crumpled pile of metal. It's a miracle we survived. However, I look for parts. I manage to rip open the hood, examine the engine, and save a lot of the precious things. It's most of the engine besides the shell. So, I'm able to carry everything, but in essence I have a engine in my pockets. The tires can be saved, the seats are removable, and I could remove the gas from the tank if needed. Then, I slowly walk down the road. I find a few cars, but only two of them could be salvaged. Both are upright, the engines are still in 'decent' condition (the engines are wrecked, but I could fix them), and I could possibly remove their tires. Every tire on the cars are rotten, but I should be able to remove them one by one. However, there's one more problem. We need a car with windows to block our scent from zombies. One car is perfectly fine, but the other has a shattered windshield. I guess I know which one I'm going to fix. I quickly try to go to work.

I need to lift the car off the ground, but I'll need a jack for that. I search the cars scattered along the road, and find one. It's rusted, ancient, and looks about ready to break, but it'll work. I walk back to the chosen car, make sure the parking brake is one, and go to the back of the vehicle. I'm not sure how much the jack can lift, but the car is rather small. I couldn't tell the model or year of the car if my life depended on it, all I know is it has four intact doors, it's low to the ground, and it's paint is so faded it looks grey. I snap out of my thoughts and go back to jacking up the car. I carefully install the jack stand under a solid, structural piece of the vehicle frame. I'm about to start pumping when I realize that this probably isn't safe. I'll need at least two jacks. I groan and go back to searching, triumphantly letting out a yell when I manage to find one. Suddenly, I feel a hand claw at the back of my shirt. I curse and leap to the side, a popping noise coming from behind me. I flip around and see a zombie mashing its jaws together in hunger. Without thinking I blow its brains out, the monster falling to the ground. Damn, I have to work fast. I return to the car, position the second jack, and begin pumping. When that's done the back half of the car is up in the air. I walk over to the tires, examining the lug nuts. The front tires have all of their lug nuts, but the back tires are missing a few.

It's debatable if that's good or bad. It'll make it easier to remove the rotted tires, but the new wheels might not be secured properly. Each tire should be secured with six lug nuts, but the left back tire only has four and the right back tire only has three. I'm not an expert on cars, but it should be able to drive just fine. Maybe a little bit of a bumpy ride, so I'll do most of the driving. I don't doubt the teenager's skills, but I've been driving longer than she's been alive (not to mention her broken leg). I go back to fixing the car, examining inside the vehicle for a wrench. I once again let out a sound of joy when I find one, then mentally discipline myself and shut up. I quickly go outside the car, make sure it's secure, and begin to remove the lug nuts from the back right tire. I carefully place the nuts into my pocket that isn't holding the engine pieces. When the nuts are removed I take the rotten tire off and throw it into the ditch by the side of the road. I repeat the process with the other back tire, my sweat beginning to become uncomfortable. I walk over to our wrecked car, clamber onto the top of it, and take off the back tires (I throw the nuts into the ditch). I look over and realize the front right tire is wrecked. Damn. I'll cross that bridge when I get there. I take the two tires and roll them over to the car I plan on fixing up. I quickly place them, reattach the nuts, and step back. It took all day, but I've changed two of the four tires. I still need to fill the car with gas, fix the ruined engine, and change two other tires (and find a completely new tire since one of the tires on the wrecked car can't be saved). I have a lot of work left, but I can't do it today. Night is falling, and soon the zombies will be out. I sigh and head back to the cabin, the car still half in the air.

Survivor POV:

I blow air past my pucker lips, trying to whistle. I've been trying for the past few hours, but there's nothing else to do. I could always count the seconds between the throbs of pain in my leg (usually around thirty seconds), but I did that all morning. When I first tried to whistle I couldn't even get a sound out, but now a high squeak comes from my mouth. I've seen Delphine whistle a thousand times, she can even whistle beautiful tunes when she puts her mind to it. However, I don't think I'll ever master the skill. I have no idea where Delphine or the kind doctor are, but I'm not concerned. They'll come back eventually, they always do. It's actually starting to concern me how much I'm coming to rely on my elder. I brush the feeling off when I hear the door open and close, someone returning. I hear movement in the kitchen, and see a shadow being thrown across the living room. From where I sit I can only see the living room and a small part of the balcony, but I've learned where the layout of the cabin is. And, Delphine usually only goes to the kitchen when she's going to get food. My stomach growls in anticipation. When Delphine walks in I see the bowls of stew in her hand. We've had the same delicious meal for the last few days, and I happily dig into the food. However, I stop when Delphine clears her throat.

I wipe my face and wait for her to speak. She tells me, "The doctor had to return to the hospital to tend to other patients, but she told me what to do. And, I found a way for us to keep going to Canada!". She quickly explains what she's planning on doing, our food cooling as she speaks. When she's done relaying her plan I tell her, "That's wonderful! Too bad about the doctor, she seemed really nice. Will we see her again?". Delphine shrugs and answers, "Maybe.". I hope we do, this world needs people like her. Delphine is extremely kind, but the doctor went out of her way to treat me. I spoon some soup in my mouth, the tiny cubes of meat exploding with flavor. When my meal is done I ask my elder, "Do you want me to help with the car?". My heart sinks when I see something spark in her eyes. Worry? Concern? Pity? I pray it isn't the last one, I can't stand the thought of being pitied. In St. Louis pity means you're weak. The weak die of sickness, huddled up in the streets with snot running down their faces. Delphine blinks and the expression is gone, but she tells me, "All you can do is get better, and not let this beat you. Understand?". I nod. Delphine takes our bowls and goes into the kitchen. I sigh and pucker my lips, once again trying to whistle.

Delphine POV:

I slowly sort through the doctor's stuff, and divide everything into three piles. Medicine, survival supplies, and junk. Medicine obviously goes in the medicine pile, survival supplies consist of food and weapons, and junk is mainly just stacks of medical papers she deemed important enough to bring. When everything is sorted I put the medicine in a first aid kit, put the survival supplies with our own, and I can't decide what to do with the junk. The survivor likes reading, so I suppose I'll just give them to her. I shrug and walk into her room, the papers in my hand.

Survivor POV:

I press my tongue against the top of my mouth, open my mouth, and slowly bite down. The spit gland under my tongue sprays a small burst of water, the spit splattering the blanket on me. I recently learned how to do that (whistling didn't go well), and it's my new form of entertainment. However, I stop when Delphine walks into the room. I'm not sure how 'girlfriends' (is that what Delphine called it?) act around one another, but I'm pretty sure they don't spit at each other. My elder puts some papers on my lap and tells me, "The doctor brought some medical reports with her, but she left them behind. I can't go out to return them, so I thought you might like reading them. If the doctor needs them, then she'll come back for them.". I smile, thank Delphine, and begin the flip through the pages. Most of them are uninteresting, but a specific one catches my attention. Twenty pictures are on the page, the first one is a human and the last one is a zombie. The pictures in between show the progress of the disease. Interesting. I flip the page. On this one there's the exact same thing, but with a different person. I look closely and realize the disease took longer to progress. I flip the page again, rather bored of looking at zombies. The next ten pages are the EXACT SAME THING. Only, each page appears to take the person longer to become a zombie. The last page shows the doctor herself. She shows early signs of infection, but by the last panel she's perfectly fine. I flip the page one last time, a report on the back.

Patient 978219 confirmed alive and well. Virus killed, no signs of infection, immunity tested and confirmed. Vial ZWXZ sent with patient and crack team to Oklahoma City, arrival date estimated July 6, 2051. Stop off for fuel in Harrisberg, Pennsylvania and Branson, Missouri. Vial ZWXZ only known disinfectant of its kind, only one specimen available for diagnosis. Do not fail, only stop in the designated areas. Patient 978219 known anarchist and psychotic medical professional. Keep patient and ZWXZ under tight lock and key, there is NO KNOWN REPLACEMENT. - Elisif the Kind

Neat, Elisif the kind wrote this note. I have no idea what the report means, but it must have been important if the self proclaimed 'queen' wrote it. She's suppose to rule me, but I've never seen her. I rub my aching eyes and put the papers down, done reading for now. I sigh and pucker my lips. Time to see if I can whistle. Again.