Title: Empire of the Sun

Rating: R just in case (K+)

Summary: The agents continue on their quest to find a long lost artifact in Machu Picchu.

Pairings: Myka/H.G., Myka/Roberto

Disclaimer 1: Warehouse 13 and characters are not mine, just playing around with them.

This chapter has not been beta'd so sorry for any mistakes

I apologize for the delay...I'll try to post the next chapter soon though! Thanks for all your feedback...keep it coming.

One, two, three, turn…one, two, three, turn…one, two, three, turn…the pacing was meant to distract Roberto but, it only managed to worsen his anxiety. He wanted to run after Myka but he had the rifle to think about. He could not let the soldiers get their hands on it. Amaru stopped his pacing and took a deep breath, trying to think of somewhere he could hide it while he went looking for the agents. The mist that had followed them since dusk had gotten denser and the cold moisture made his clothes stick uncomfortably to his skin. He brushed away the sweat from his forehead as he listened for any sign of the agents in the pitch blackness. He turned sharply when he heard a branch break a few feet away. He stretched his left hand to find the old, leafless tree he had bumped into when Myka had first left him. He touched its dry surface and placed his back against it, searching his pockets for the small flashlight he always carried with him. His fingers brushed against the plastic handle and immediately curled around it. He could clearly hear unsteady footsteps approaching and decided against turning it on. He would have to use the darkness to his favor. He waited until he could feel the person's erratic breathing and jumped from his spot. He pounced on the figure, wanting to immobilize it. He didn't know who it was and didn't want to hurt Myka or the others in case it was them. He placed the rifle against the person's chest, using his large frame to hold them in place. The body was a lot smaller than his own but, it was quick and it elbowed him in the stomach and grabbed his arm, pulling it painfully behind his back until he yelled out in agony. In response, the pulling immediately stopped but his feet were unceremoniously swept from under him. Roberto hit the floor soundly, the wind getting knocked out of him.

"Agent Wells….glad…you…could make it" He said between gulps of air as he grabbed his flashlight and turned it on. Helena put her hand up, blocking the light from her sensitive eyes. After a few seconds, she used the faint light to make out her surroundings.

"What happened to you? Are you alright?" Roberto asked as he stood. The gentle tone made H.G. cringe internally; she did not want sympathy from anyone right now, especially not from the man standing in front of her, looking at her with worried, compassionate eyes.

She ignored his searching gaze and breathed out a small sigh of relief as she spotted a brook a few feet away. She wordlessly walked over to it and knelt down, putting her aching hand in the cold, shallow water. As she tried to gradually make her hand regain feeling again by opening and closing it, she heard Roberto slowly make his way towards her, his footsteps hesitant.

"Myka and Peter are on their way" She answered the unspoken question as she took off her scarf and jacket. She placed the scarf in the water and proceeded to use it to scrub her neck clean. Roberto crouched beside her, his flashlight aimed at the ground. He could now tell that the blood was not hers. The agent was also obviously avoiding any eye contact with him. Her blood smattered face was expressionless; her thoughts somewhere far away.

"Is that Torres' blood?" He probed cautiously, wanting to grasp the time traveler's state of mind.

Helena stopped her movements and after a long pause gave him an almost imperceptible nod, her eyes looking straight ahead.

"Is he dead?" He continued to ask without judgment.

She quickly turned haunted, dark eyes towards him before looking back over the vast, shadowed field and after another long pause the writer shook her head; this time though a tear managed to escape her watery eyes and slowly run down her cheek. She brushed it away without a second thought before continuing to clean the mess she had made.

"Whatever you did to him…I would have done the same. He could have killed Myka." He tried to reassure the agent, having seen what the soldier had done to their friend and the way Helena had instinctively reacted to it. He leaned back on his haunches and blew out a slow, even breath through the hand cupping his mouth. "Huh" He uttered as something dawned on him. She looked up at him then, her eyes cold and scrutinizing. "I-I think I've finally figured out why you hate me so much." He spoke with a small, unpretentious smile.

"I don't ha-" H.G. began to correct him.

"You're in love with her" He stated matter-of-factly. The inventor could not find it in her to correct him on this though. It was the truth and right at that moment she had no strength left in her to protest against it. She looked down at the hand holding the bloodied scarf. Roberto nodded, the woman's silence speaking volumes.

"She's in love with you as well." He continued, finding he couldn't stop. He wanted to kick himself for only now having realized this. Every smile, every eye roll, every touch and joke and quarrel they had shared these past few days was taking on a whole new dimension to him.

"Roberto, I'm sure I don't know what you're going on about." Helena said with a strained smile, trying to play aloof. It was all for not, he could see through the act.

"But, you don't want her." He treaded on, wanting to get everything out in the open. "I don't know why…but, I am grateful-"

"Roberto…" His name was said in a warning tone.

"-because I do" His voice louder than he intended. They both stared at each other, the archeologist's heartfelt confession shocking them both with its intensity. Roberto took a steadying breath and placed his flashlight and the bound rifle carefully on the ground. He gently took the scarf from the silent woman and soaked it in the water. He lightly grabbed her right hand and examined it, seeing that the knuckles were marred and bruised. He rinsed the scarf and wrapped it around the injured area.

"This is neither the time nor the place to be speaking about this." A somewhat subdued H.G. said as she watched the archeologist's strong, callused hands tend to her wounds.

"You're right…I apologize…I think I just got sidetracked with all the new information." He conceded lamely, his lips forming a small, wan smile. "All I wanted to say is that that son of a bitch had it coming … but when you're right, you're right…this is neither the time nor the place…what we have to focus on now is staying alive and getting to the artifact before anyone else does. We're in deep shit here and the only way out is to stick together and to trust each other." As he said the final words he finished knotting the scarf, giving it one final pull to make sure it was securely tied. "I know we don't know each other that well and you really have no reason to trust me but, I do want to help you…and frankly I'm your best bet at getting the hell out of here." He finished with a charming smirk.

Helena gave him a faint albeit sincere smile and nodded in return, silently conceding that they had no other choice but to work together.

"No…please…don't worry about a thing…stay put, we can carry everything all the way up to Machu Picchu for you…should I get you two a lemonade in the mean time?" Came Pete's sarcastic voice. They turned to see him and Myka carrying most of their gear into the small grove. Pete was aiming his flashlight towards them as he haphazardly dropped the bags on the ground while he gave them both a pointed look. Roberto stood and made his way over to Myka, helping her put down the rest of the gear.

Helena cursed herself for having left her companions to do all the heavy lifting. Their combined flashlights cast enough light for her to see Myka's drawn and pale features. She quickly grabbed Soraya and stood. Pete caught her eye and gave her a questioning look, silently asking her if she was alright. She offered him a terse nod and mouthed a voiceless 'thank you' before turning to Myka who was at the moment leaning heavily against Roberto, talking to him in soft tones.

The time traveler swallowed hard, all of a sudden nervous and at a loss for words. "Myka? Are you alright?" She asked as she tentatively walked up to her friend. Myka's attention focused on H.G. before she looked over her shoulder at Pete who was keeping himself busy by searching the packs for the Farnsworth. She then turned to Roberto and lightly held the forearm that was supporting her by the waist.

"Roberto, Can you help Pete find the Farnsworth? We need to get in touch with Artie." He simply nodded and helped her straighten. He walked passed Helena and wordlessly asked her for the rifle which she handed over to him. Trying to keep her world from spinning, Myka slowly walked up to Helena who seemed torn between helping her stay afoot and running away in the other direction. H.G. had no idea what Pete had told Myka or what she had seen once she had left them on the road. She was not sure of where she stood in Myka's eyes. She was waiting for the younger woman to look at her with disgust, or hate or even worse, disappointment, but none of these seemed to be present on her beautiful face…at least not at the moment. The tall agent's eyes slowly roamed over the other woman, clearly searching for something. Helena willed herself not to move or look away or cry for that matter. She felt weak and exposed and she loathed it.

"You used my favorite scarf as gauze?" Myka asked as the light from her flashlight stopped on the hastily mended hand, a playful smile showing on her face. Helena exhaled shakily and a relieved, gravelly laugh escaped her throat.

"I beg your pardon? You know perfectly well Leena gave it to me as a Christmas present last year." H.G. halfheartedly defended herself.

"I said it was my favorite, I didn't say it was mine." Myka shot back as a high-strung H.G. walked quickly up to her, suddenly enveloping her in an almost desperate embrace. Myka released the breath she had been holding and closed her eyes tightly as she placed her arms over Helena's shoulders and returned the hug with as much force, unconsciously burying her face in the crook of Helena's neck.

"Well, I must admit, it suited you far better than it did me, I'm sorry for your loss." H.G. conceded, her voice somewhat muffled by Myka's shoulder. Myka opened her eyes and laughed, more out of relief at having her friend back than from the joke itself.

The taller agent slid her free hand through the time traveler's blood encrusted hair before guiding her so that they were now facing each other.

"Are you okay?" She whispered, relieved when she saw her H.G. looking back at her. She had not recognized the woman who had stared dully past her on the road not an hour before.

"I believe I asked you first?" The writer reminded her friend as she searched her face for any more signs of injury.

"I'm a bit woozy but, on the bright side…Pete and I will probably have matching scars." She tried to brush away the writer's worry with the small joke as she reached for the inventor's injured hand. "You?"

Helena stepped back, but left her hand in Myka's gentle grasp. She turned to watch Pete holding the Farnsworth over his head and Roberto who was unstrapping a machete from one of the packs, trying without much success to keep his eyes from the two women. "He-he hurt you…and I was going to kill him for it" Helena confessed somberly, her eyes never flinching from Myka's.

/

"Everyone, run into the fields!" H.G. heard Roberto yell as she heedlessly made her way to two soldiers who had been caught by surprise by the agent's sudden attack and were just now aiming their guns at them. Torres was caught behind one of the government cars, blasting away at Pete who had made his way back to the truck and had opened the passenger side door, using it as protection as he retaliated.

Having only Torres on her mind and a plan already set in place; Helena counted Pete and Torres' shots, timing her movements to the irregular blasts. She quickly aimed her gun and pressed the trigger, hitting the nearest soldier squarely on the left kneecap. As expected, he screamed in agony and fell to his knees. Without missing a beat, the time traveler ran up to him and rolled on top of his bent form, grabbing the knife he had hidden in his waistband while kicking the second soldier in the jaw. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she turned and hit the dazed man on the nose with the butt of her gun, hearing with satisfaction the bone break under the pressure. She quickly turned and as predicted, She found Torres crouched behind the car, reloading his gun. Pete was taking advantage of the short reprieve to attack another of the armed men. He tackled him to the ground and punched him several times, trying to render him unconscious. Helena strode towards where Torres was, easily pushing the soldier with the broken nose to the ground. The large man saw her steadily making her way towards him, foolishly holstering her gun. He quickly finished loading his own weapon and pulled back the slide. He took aim as he stood, but Helena was too quick for him. To his shock, she was already before him, sidestepping his gun and locking his right arm with her left, adding a deceitful amount of pressure for someone her size. Refusing to panic, Torres tried to use his large frame to his advantage, turning them around and slamming the lithe woman into the car. She barely flinched. She tightened her hold on his arm and rammed her right hand upwards, striking his elbow joint and breaking the bone. His screams were deafening, but she was not satisfied. She roghly grabbed him by the neck and tripped him; once she got him on the ground she grabbed his broken arm and forced it to spread to his side, generating another bone chilling scream from the soldier who was now begging her to stop. She grabbed his wrist and without preamble cut three of his fingers off with the knife she had taken from the first soldier; jabbing the blade into his hand when she had finished.

Pete had been wrestling with the last soldier and had almost gotten his head blown off a couple of times but had managed to hit him in the neck and subdue him with a choke hold.

When he was sure the soldier was unconscious he stood and searched for his friend. He heard an animal like wail; the ire coming from it making his gut clench. He ran to the car where he had last seen Torres hide behind and gasped when he made his way around it. Helena was straddling Torres, beating his face to a pulp. The soldier's right hand was pinned to the ground by a knife and it was missing three fingers. A large amount of blood was gushing out of the wound and even more blood shot out of his face with every punch H.G. pommeled him with. In complete shock, Pete forced himself to snap out of it.

"Stop!" He bellowed as he ran to the author and wrapped his arms around her, hauling her to her feet. "H.G. Look at me…look at me!" Pete pleaded as he turned the struggling woman around, forcing her to face him. "He's done…he can't hurt Myka anymore. Breathe…that's it" H.G.'s glassy eyes focused on her friend's worried gaze. She heard his familiar voice, something in its gentle tone calming the rage that had taken a hold of her a few short moments ago. She grabbed his face with both hands, focusing on breathing in and out as instructed. She looked at Pete, his concerned face too much for her to bear. She felt a dam about to break somewhere within her and took a deep breath, forcing it back for the time being.

She gave him a grateful nod and turned to Torres, feeling Pete's gaze on her. She found it a bit disconcerting that her friend was protecting the soldier from her and not the other way around. She crouched down and placed her hand on the pulse point on his neck. To her relief, his heart was still beating. She looked up at Pete "He's alive." The relieved breath he released hit her like a knife to the heart. Ashamed, she turned and grabbed her Tesla from Torres' waistband. She stood and walked past Pete, unable to look at him. "We should get our gear and tend to the men's wounds quickly." Pete heard the time traveler say behind her shoulder.

He stood motionless, staring at the stranger that was walking away from him. For the first time since he had met H.G., he felt a pang of fear. This emotion was mixed with shame; she was his friend and he would have done the same if not worse to Torres if he had gotten his hands on him first…right?

"Pete! Helena!" His musings were cut short by Myka calling out their names. He took a deep breath to settle his frazzled nerves and ran up to H.G. leading her towards their friend.

/

Myka stood still as H.G. finished telling her what had happened after they had parted ways on the road. Helena was succinct to say the least, but she did not leave out any of the gory details. "I couldn't stop hitting him, Myka…I didn't try to…I didn't want to." Helena admitted as she looked down at her hurt hand still cradled between Myka's, the last confession making her sick to her stomach.

"Helena…"Myka uttered almost in a whisper, lightly pulling the bandaged hand to get her attention. The older woman looked up, her features impassive but Myka knew better. "You-you have to stop punishing yourself. You didn't kill him –" Helena opened her mouth to protest but, anticipating her words Myka pushed forward, inclining her head to be more at eye level with the writer "-and if Pete hadn't been there, I know you would have stopped yourself. I don't care what you did in the past…I know you and you are not a murderer." She emphasized her words by placing her hand behind H.G.'s neck, guiding her head forward and nudging her lightly with her forehead.

Helena took an unsteady breath and gave the green eyed woman an uncertain smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. "Myka Ophelia Bering, always so bloody sure of herself." She teased with a raised eyebrow and a boastful, crooked smile.

"Well, I do know you better than anyone else…remember? You're my area of expertise, so don't you dare argue with me on this." Myka only half joked as she took a step back and let go of the dark haired woman's hand. H.G.'s heart swelled at Myka's words and all she could do was smile at her, her eyes brimming with unshed tears "Righty-ho, Agent Bering." She conceded, tipping her head politely and bending to grab Myka's pack. Hoisting the bag over her shoulder, she turned and walked over to Pete who was tinkering irritably with the Farnsworth. Myka remained standing in her spot for a few more seconds, her eyes on H.G.'s retreating form before she turned and searched the ground for anything they could have left behind.

"I think everything is taken care of." Roberto said, crouching on the floor over a pile of bags. "Here" He offered Myka a sweater, the night growing colder by the minute. "Thanks."

"Let me look at you." He said after she had put on the oversized sweater. He stood and carefully placed his hand on the side of her face, intently looking at the beaten but still beautiful face. He placed a thumb on her cut lip and then searched his pocket for something. After several moments, he took out what appeared to be a small mint can.

"What's that?" Myka asked, her brow furrowed with curiosity. He smiled at the childish gesture; Myka had many endearing qualities he mused to himself as he opened the can. In it there were small, round pellets.

"Chancaca candy…not the tastiest treat but it could help with the bleeding…plus, it's a decent replacement to breath mints." He quipped.

Myka's mouth opened in mock indignation. "Are you saying my breath smells?" She said indignantly as she took a pill and put in her mouth, scrunching up her nose at the unfamiliar taste.

Roberto laughed and placed a pill in his own mouth "Not at all…but you may want to remember I have these come morning." He advised as he gave her a smile.

"How is she?" He asked after a few seconds; his eyes seeking out H.G.

"I-I think she's doing better-I hope so…sometimes it's just so damn difficult to get through to her, you know?"

Roberto nodded and kept silent. Myka was wringing her hands together, looking like she was going to burst if she didn't get whatever she was thinking off her chest, so he patiently waited for her to continue.

"I-I saw what she did...I dressed Torres' hand...or what was left of it; it wasn't pretty-It was downright scary, really-"She blurted out, trying to keep her voice down so the others wouldn't hear her. "She-she lost control…and if there's something H.G. Wells hates more than anything, it's losing control…She's pissed and she's scared…She thinks she would've killed him, for God's sakes!…" Myka guffawed at the sheer absurdity of the idea "Sooner or later she'll have to face the fact that she's not the big, bad monster she sees herself as…that she's not the same person she was before she was bronzed." She said as her gaze locked with his; she was still fidgeting with her hands but her jaw was set with resolve.

"How can you be so sure?" Roberto asked, not wanting to question H.G.'s atonement but, needing to know why the younger agent had so much faith in the woman.

"Some things you just don't question…her heart is one of those things." She explained simply. As soon as the words came out, he could tell she wanted to take them back. He smiled when he saw her eyes widening as her mouth opened forming a perfect "o". She self-consciously tucked her curls behind her ears and cleared her throat as the archeologist looked at her knowingly, feeling foolish for the small pang of jealousy that appeared out of the blue.

"She's-she's my friend…I just know her." She finished lamely as she shoved her hands behind her back pockets, looking at her surroundings with way too much interest.

"Guys, the Farnsworth isn't working…something's jamming the signal." Pete informed the group as he walked about positioning the Farnsworth in different angles above his head.

Letting Myka off the hook, Roberto grabbed the heaviest pack off the ground; "I'm sorry, my friends. We can't stay here…we must keep going. Luis will catch wind of our escape soon and he'll come looking for us." He warned the others as he took out his cellphone; as he expected, there was no signal. "The truck will be too easy to spot…we'll have to walk." He explained as he grabbed another bag and flung it over his shoulder.

They took a few minutes to gather their things, tend to their wounds and fill their canteens up with water. Once done, Roberto took the lead, Soraya securely strapped to his pack. Myka followed with Pete keeping a close eye on her a few paces away while H.G. kept watch from behind the line.

After about three hours of almost complete silence; Pete noticed the way Myka slightly dragged her feet and how she couldn't quite seem to walk in a straight line. He was sure his partner was reaching her limit and was also absolutely positive that she would not utter a word about it.

"Roberto, As much as I'm loving our midnight stroll…Can we stop for a sec? My back is killing me." Pete whined with some exaggeration as he grabbed his waist dramatically and leaned back against a tree with a heavy sigh. Roberto turned and searched their surroundings. They had cleared the open fields about two hours ago and were now on the outskirts of the jungle that boarded the ruins of Machu Picchu. He had purposefully taken a longer route and they still had about a day's walk to go before they reached the nearest village; he was about to propose they walk a couple of more hours but thought better of it when he saw blood seeping through the make shift gauze on Myka's temple. "Okay… this is as good a place as any, I guess. We can't light a fire so, take out any extra jackets and sweaters you have. We've been walking and keeping warm but, the nights here can get really cold." He explained as he placed his bags against a tree and started to search for warm clothes to give to the others.

The three exhausted agents made their way over to Roberto and deposited themselves under the tree. Pete inched towards Myka, gingerly grabbing her chin and ducking his head to get a closer look at the wound.

"I know what you did there." Myka said as she bumped shoulders with her partner.

"What are you talking about? I'm seriously tired Mykes…It may not seem like it but I'm not twenty-five anymore." He joked as he examined her temple.

"We need to change the bandage and apply some more of Arpasi's mystery goo." He informed his partner as he scrunched up his nose, knowing how much Myka hated the stuff. Myka swatted his hand away, grabbing his chin in the same fashion, angling his head to get a better look at his gash.

"Idem for you." She stated after seeing that the flesh around his wound was puffy and dark; it looked like it was getting infected.

"A double dose of goo coming right up, my lady."

He turned and searched his pack while H.G. wordlessly handed Myka her canteen. They had turned off their flashlights about an hour before, the mist having cleared enough for them to make their way with the light cast by the full moon. Helena could just make out the dark circles under Myka's drooping eyes. She grabbed her gear and shuffled closer to her friend. She placed her back to the tree, her left shoulder brushing against Myka's right one. Myka turned questioning eyes her way. H.G. curved her arm around her friend's neck placing her hand on Myka's face, guiding her head to rest on her shoulder; delicately brushing her fingers through the thick curls a few times before letting go. Myka watched H.G. take out her sword and carefully unsheathe it, searching for any dent or unwanted stain. She took out a whetstone from a hidden compartment in the sheath and started to sharpen the blade; the steady sound of stone against metal lulling the exhausted agent to sleep. She felt Pete remove the gauze from her head but was too drained to move; she let her friends' low, comforting voices lead her to a state between wakefulness and sleep. She didn't know when she fell asleep; it seemed like only minutes had gone by but when she opened her eyes the moon was no longer in the sky. Somebody had placed a couple of sweaters over her chest and a jacket over her knees and feet but, despite the protection, the cold was bone deep. She had slid down and her head was now resting on H.G.'s stomach, her face covered by Helena's right arm, the writer's fingers threaded lightly in her hair; her other hand was lightly holding her wrist. Pete had apparently decided to use her hip as a pillow. She felt his even breaths and smiled when his fingers tightened around her ankle; overprotective of her even in sleep. Her eyes scanned the area searching for Roberto, but it was too dark to make him out. A strong breeze passed through the trees, making its way under the protection of the sweaters. She shivered involuntarily and Helena instinctively drew her closer, carefully pulling her up so she could encircle her collarbone with her arms, letting go of her wrist to brush the hair from Myka's face, placing her lips with a feather touch against the gash on her temple as she repositioned the sweaters tighter against Myka.

"Hey…Can't sleep? Do you need me to move?" Myka breathed out lazily, making no effort whatsoever to move from the comfortable spot. She felt H.G.'s lips turn upwards against her temple and her chest constricted at the gesture.

"No, stay…it's rather brisk out and I must say you work far better than the wood stove I had back in the day." H.G.'s voice was raspy from lack of use and Myka could easily picture the impish smile she was wearing.

"Where's Roberto?" Myka inquired, her eyes roaming the darkness.

"I'm right here. We'll be starting up again in a few." His voice came from somewhere in front of them. As Myka's eyes grew more accustomed to the darkness, she could see that he was leaning against a large rock a few feet away.

While they sat in companionable silence, listening to the night sounds of the jungle, Myka's eyes began to drift shut but before sleep could take her once again, Pete's head shot up; his whole body shaking. Myka sat up straight as her hand searched blindly for her friend's shoulder.

"Pete, what is it?" She anxiously asked her partner, knowing from experience that he was getting a bad case of the vibes.

"We have to get out of here…now!" He was clearly agitated as he grabbed Myka's hand and helped her stand. Myka knew enough not to argue with Pete when he got like this. She crouched down to grab her pack as Roberto turned on his flashlight. H.G. was already up, sword strapped to her back

"Grab the rifle…leave everything else!" Pete barked as he took Myka's bag from her and dropped it on the ground. "Pete?´-" She was cut short by loud shuffling in the distance. Something was dragging itself on the leaf covered ground. The sound seemed to multiply and spread in a circle around them. The shuffling turned into several uneven footsteps; branches broke and bushes were being stomped on. Whatever was out there was making no effort in making their presence unknown. Myka's heart jumped to her throat when she heard an in-human grunting a few feet to her left. She grabbed Pete's forearm and pulled him back as she turned to the other two. In silent agreement they began to run, following Amaru. Myka kept her eyes on the light cast by Roberto's small flashlight, refusing to look anywhere else. Gurgled gasps, load wailings and enraged yells were coming from the jungle's depths; slowly picking up speed and gaining on them.

A shadow behind a tree to her left caused her to unholster her gun. H.G. and Pete followed suit while Amaru held up the machete he had been holding, all the while they ran. Amaru let out a sharp cry as something tackled him to the ground. His flashlight fell from his clammy hand. The agents surrounded the two figures that were struggling on the leaf covered floor; their weapons at the ready. Amaru kicked the wailing body on top of him and pushed it away. As soon as they separated, the agents opened fire which only seemed to make it angrier.

"This is not working!" Pete felt he had to point out the obvious as he kept shooting at the dark figure who once again pounced on Roberto and started gnawing on his shoulder. The rotting smell from the body attacking him caused bile to make its way to Roberto's mouth. With great effort, he placed both hands around the face that was pressed into his shoulder and felt his fingers easily dig into dry, flaky skin. A strong, bony hand was pressed into his own face, thrusting his head painfully against the ground, the pressure making him see dark spots before his eyes. His fingers tore at the putrid flesh above him to no avail. He heard metal brush against leather and then a high, whistle followed by the sound of something splintering, as if someone had split a large, piece of dry wood in half. The pressure to his head immediately ceased; the body above him falling limply, crushing his chest.

Myka grabbed the flashlight while Pete helped Roberto pull the body away from him.

"So much for old fashioned." Helena declared proudly as she extended her left hand for Roberto to take. "This seems to do the trick." She professed as she showed the woozy looking man her sword, crouching down and placing his machete back in his hand.

A shaky "thank you" was all he could manage as he applied pressure to the wound on his shoulder.

They turned to the sound of something running through the jungle...a disgusted yell followed as someone clumsily broke through the tree line, the light from their flashlight bouncing off the nearby trees. The four travelers took up defensive positions.

"Gaaah!…bug!…mutant bug!"

"Claudia?!" Myka gasped in alarm as she directed the light to the young woman who was stomping on something on the ground.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing here?" A less than thrilled H.G. questioned as she stepped closer to the Warehouse apprentice.

"Umm...What's it look like? I'm here to save you guys." She replied as her hands made their way to her hair, her fingers combing violently through the fine tresses. Helena took a small twig from the red hair and let it drop to the floor.

"Yes, I can see that." She mused sarcastically, although her lips formed an affectionate smile.

"Claudia, you shouldn't have come…what if there are more of these-these-" Pete was at a loss for words as he looked at the headless form.

Claudia's eyes opened wide in fear…"Zombies…they're zombies, Pete…and, yeah…there are definitely more of them." She breathed out as she grabbed H.G.'s arm and stepped closer to her. They turned to see a horde of deformed, rotting corpses circling them. There were dozens of them, angrily running up to the group, blocking their only escape.

/

Thanks for taking the time to read.