Note: This chapter has a section that skirts around the topic of sexual violence. It's mild by most standards, but it needs to be said.

Chapter 2

She should be sleeping while luck was on her side. It was only by sheer chance that her encounter with the rotters had not ended in a multitude of different ways, all of them tragic. The wind howled outside and she gripped the stiff collars of her jacket together. A honed machete and firearm lay on the cold surface next to her head.

Survival, it seemed, was a 24 hour job. Jane considered it a small victory if she managed two straight hours of sleep and even then, they were fitful. There were too many unknowns to keep track of, too many bumps in the night, things she swore she saw out of the corner of her eye… She reached for her gun. It was cool and dense and gave her a chilling sense of comfort. Her thumb played with the safety. Click, click, click.

She had continued west, sweeping as much terrain as she could. She had hoped to find a road or stream but that was hoping for too much. As the light faded in the sky, she knew she would need shelter soon and found it in a small cave jutting out from the earth. It was barely a crawl space but it was deep. Jane had moved all the way in, her back hugged firmly against the wall. The knowledge that nothing could sneak up behind her was a luxury.

"Jane, you need to sleep. Please try."

"You try sleeping with that psycho killer out there coming after you." She was being an ass. Maura shouldn't let her get away it.

"Do you want me to stay?" She was rubbing Jane's back and being nicer to her than she deserved.

"Yea."

Jane opened her eyes and the thoughts began ticking away, one after the other.

It had stopped snowing at least two months ago. The moderate temperatures and cooler nights meant that it was probably summer. That had made travelling much easier but the rotters were more animated now. Like everything else, they froze in the winter.

Maura wouldn't be in a city. No one with any sense of self-preservation would be in a city - they belonged to the undead. She would have done as Jane had and headed to the rural areas. Farms and houses dotted the landscape and each one had come up empty or infested. Perhaps she had found a group of people to travel with? If Maura was a moving target, she would be that much harder to find. This was worse than finding a needle in a haystack and Jane would never stop. What else was she going to do?

It was almost too difficult to imagine Maura out there in this dangerous new world. Maura was so beautiful. The world as it was did not take kindly to beautiful things anymore.

Jane re-gripped the weapon in her hands. It was a lesson she had learned the hard way.

Two days outside of Boston, Jane had finally come across another human being. His name was Paul and there was no question that they would begin trekking together from that point forward. It made sense as there was safety in numbers. Paul was a high school graduate who went into the family business of running a hardware store. Jane had joked that those were some of the best places to loot and he had laughed.

She had forgotten the benefits of having a partner - two sets of eyes instead of one, twice the supplies in case you ran out. They slept in shifts. Jane could feel herself getting sharper. She could feel herself adapting.

It turned out that her optimism in a landscape filled with death was naïve and her bullshit-detector had been gathering dust.

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Jane felt a weight settle on top of her. She jerked awake and knew that it was him simply by the way he smelled. Ironically, it calmed her.

"What are you doing?" she mumbled.

"Shhh, it's okay." He continued to push her down. Jane felt something hard press between her legs and she realized it was his dick. What the hell, Paul.

"Man, stop messing around. I'm tired." The threat hadn't even registered in her head yet, she had let her guard down that much.

"I said it's okay," his hands pressed her down more firmly this time. And then he was fumbling with her pants.

"Stop it," she couldn't scream the words like she wanted and risk a rotter being within earshot.

But he wasn't stopping. He wasn't saying anything anymore. He was trying to rape her. Her hand shot out to the spot where her weapons would be but they were gone. Premeditation. Son of a bitch.

"Get the fuck off me," she hissed it through her clenched teeth and brought her forearm under his chin, pushing him away. That's when he struck her across the cheek. Jane could taste something metallic in her mouth and she spit her blood in his face.

"Doesn't have to be this way, Jane. Just let me," his voice was calm. He had reasoned these events all out in his head. He still thought he was a nice guy.

Jane shoved the cold tip of her revolver under his chin and cocked the hammer. She'd never told him about the piece that she kept on her at all times, tucked underneath her pant leg. She'd thought about it, but somehow never did. Her instincts would never fail her.

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Paul would not be the last outlaw she'd run across, but he would be the only one to fool her. Jane had seen the absolute worst of what human beings could do to one another. She had witnessed it, studied it, solved it, and not solved it. Rinse and repeat. Over and over. The experience served her well now.

Evil only amplified itself in a world with no laws.

It was not to say that no goodness remained. Her fingers curled into her palm, pressing at the silk there. Jane knew she was still keeping it together. All her encounters were not bad; she'd had a handful of good ones. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep her from losing faith in mankind altogether.

There was the sweet immigrant family that she stayed with for a few days. A husband, a wife, a son, and a daughter. They welcomed her into their small, fortified home and she'd eaten her first hot meal in weeks. Watching the children eagerly gobble up her candy bars, she tried to feel joy instead of sadness. Stay as long as you'd like. But Jane still had someone to find. Family? Jane smiled and said yes.

Then there were the two young women that Jane had nearly shot to death. They snuck up on her in the pharmacy of a ghost town. She was looking for antibiotics, they were looking for water. How they had made it so long was a mystery. Zero survival skills. Jane would teach them as much as she could. They had each other's backs and reminded Jane so much of her and Maura that she wanted to cry. She'd left a note and snuck away in the middle of the night.

It wasn't safe to trust anyone no matter how right it felt.

Jane sighed and focused beyond the barrel of her gun. The color of the sky signaled that it would be time to go soon. Another restless night. It was no way to function and yet, she couldn't remember the last time she yawned.

She crawled out of her space, rolling from the mouth of the cave onto the damp ground below. Her muscles were stiff and aching from the header she took. The forest smelled cool and fresh. Her ears registered the chirping of birds, the skittering of insects. That only happened in the absence of rotters. Jane pulled an energy bar from her pack along with her map and compass. Mmm, banana nut bread. Tearing it open with her teeth, she sat and ate. Unfolding a map one-handed was a skill she had not quite mastered. The paper tented and collapsed in on itself as she flicked it. Whoever came up with the backassward way of folding these things…

A sharp snap of twigs behind her. Another sound, the crunching of vegetation. The steps were measured, sure-footed. Human. Jane dropped everything, gun once again in her hands, finger on the trigger. Finger always on the trigger. More sounds, this time in other directions meaning there was more than one. Shit. She scooted back against the rock of her shelter willing herself to look over the edge.

Four men. They weaved through the trees, focused on the forest floor, on their surroundings. Two armed with assault rifles. Two carrying semi-automatics, holstered. They were spread out, walking in her direction. Of course they would be. This damn rock was like a beacon. Jane cursed under her breath. There were too many and running was not an option. Neither was hiding. They would surely investigate the cave and she'd be a sitting duck. Think Rizzoli, think. If they were decent men, they would let her go. If they weren't, she was dead anyway. Deep breaths.

"You're very brave, Jane."

And then she stepped on her half-eaten breakfast. So so sloppy. The artificial sound of crinkling plastic echoed like a clap of thunder in Jane's ears. Fuck me. A bird flew away in the distance. Shuffling sounds. Heavy steps. The men were taking cover. Jane should have gotten more sleep last night.

"Who's there? We're armed!"

"I'm armed too motherfuckers!" she shouted back.

"We're not gonna hurt you."

She looked over the slab of rock, trying to stay as low as possible. Her hamstrings burned. The trees weren't very thick and she could see exactly where each man was. They were, however, thick enough that none of her shots would be clean. She exhaled in frustration.

"Look, we can help you lady," one of the men offered. "Just drop your weapon and come out."

Jane scoffed. Really?

"How about you drop your weapons and come out? Oh I'm sorry, did I just insult your intelligence?" Idiots.

"Everyone hold your fire!"

Jane froze at the voice. A figure stepped out from one of the trees. She stood slowly, gun lowered, and suddenly everything had gone numb. The rest of the men appeared. Her arm flinched reflexively but did not rise.

"Janie?" A look of astonishment was on his face. His dark hair had been cut short, too short for her tastes and there he was, all grown up. Alive.

"Frankie?"

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