| CHAPTER FOUR, All Roads Lead To? (Stiles & company) |

"Why are they…shit," Stiles said, watching as the Argents' car pulled off the highway. Stiles made a snap move to follow and his father placed a hand over his on the steering wheel.

"It's gonna' be alright," the Sheriff said, Stiles' shaking hand calming a little, forcing the rest of his body to calm a little more as well. Not veering far from the highway, the Argents pulled off onto a dirt road and soon came upon a worn-down but still operational building—well, only until the outbreak began.

"Tyler," Stiles began, "why don't you stay with Melissa and Danny? Cooper, why don't you take watch outside? Stay frosty." The two guys nodded and Stiles and his father exited the car first, Cooper right behind them. The tall brawny blonde stepped out and turned around, facing the road and sharpening all of his senses. Stiles and the Sheriff followed Allison and Chris inside, Lydia hopping out and taking the driver's seat…just in case. "A gun shop?" Stiles said, once inside, noting some of the looted cases and empty shelves.

Chris turned to them for a quick briefing. "Grab a padded vest for yourselves, Melissa, and the new guy." Stiles smirked internally, knowing Tyler wouldn't need one. "Grab as many ammo boxes as you can. Shotgun shells, too. And Stiles, if you aren't armed, grab something you can draw quickly."

Stiles and his father nodded and the four dispersed throughout the abandoned store, Chris doing a quick sweep of the main room and the back before joining the others in looting what was left. Stiles, although armed with his sniper rifle in his jeep, grabbed a pistol with a 15-round-capacity and grabbed a small revolver for Melissa—something with a minor recoil. His father grabbed an additional vest for Melissa after cladding himself with one and proceeded to grab every box of ammo he could find except for the blanks. In a span of ten minutes, the four of them had grabbed three shopping carts full of ammo and a couple additional firearms and rolled them quickly out to the cars.

Upon leaving, the druid noticed that Tyler was now out of the car, now helping Danny clamber out as well. "Where are we?" Danny said, still rather exhausted.

"Just north of Porterville," Cooper answered from beside him, standing there like a statue with his arms crossed.

Danny looked around and noticed the company he was in. "Where's…where's Scott? And Isaac?" Danny's panic began to spike, recollections of the attack at UCLA slamming into the forefront of his consciousness.

"They're okay," Tyler said, placing a hand on Danny's arm, the latter's body visibly distraught. "We separated a little ways back. Scott went to get someone named Derek."

"Derek? Oh…"

"Reid is with them," Tyler said, hoping that the notion of a warlock being with them would provide the beta some comfort. And as those memories of the fight back east, they provided just that.

"Good to see you awake," Stiles said, walking over to them and patting Danny on the shoulder. Danny only continued to frown, Stiles infectious smile having no effect this time. Stiles got the hint and looked back at the Argents' car. "Cooper, maybe you wanna' go with them? Best have a werewolf in each car?"

"Sure," Cooper said, making to head over there.

"I'll go," Danny said, looking back to see Lydia getting out of the driver's seat. "She and I can catch up on things." Stiles nodded and the three guys clambered back into the car, the Sheriff having already retaken his seat in the front.

Stiles handed Melissa the fully-loaded revolver and a couple extra rounds. She smiled down at it, like someone had just presented her with a diamond necklace. "I never thought I'd be happy about the Second Amendment," she said. Stiles and his father exchanged and amused look and the former started the jeep, following the Argents as they made a U-turn.

— | WWZ | —

"There's a lake just east of Porterville," Chris Argent said into his short-wave. "We should rest there for the night. Less populated location."

"Unless they like water," the Sheriff replied sarcastically.

"Doubtful," Chris replied.

"Alright, the lake it is," the Sheriff said, the two-car convoy just heading over and overpass when a flaming car between them exploded. The explosion was forceful enough to jerk Stiles' jeep right and out of control and the jeep accelerated off of the overpass. Before anyone could even curse, they were headed front first into the pavement below. Everyone braced themselves when Tyler's eyes blackened and he landed them roughly into the concrete wall of the overpass, the front smashed less than a foot in.

"Everyone alright?" Stiles asked first, looking at his dad, to Melissa, and to the guys. Noting Tyler's eyes flaming back to normal, he turned back around and smiled with relief. "I'm glad we keep you around."

"So you're not…human either?" Melissa asked, both of her hands still gripping tight into the two guys' thighs nearest her. Tyler was about to answer when they heard it. That wheezing growl.

"Start the car, Stiles," the Sheriff ordered, looking to their right to see a mass charging for them. Stiles turned the key and the car stalled. "Start the car!" After a second and a third failed attempt, the Sheriff unbuckled his seat belt and yelled, "Ruuuuuun!"

What happened next was a blur. Adrenaline flooded Stiles' system. Survival instinct was at its height. And soon he found himself running towards a Starbucks/Subway building. It was so far away it seemed. But yet, within what seemed like a single blink he was forcing his way in. And Melissa was there with him, too. "Here," Stiles said, leading them into the back storage room of the Starbucks, the smell of coffee extremely potent. Stiles slammed the door and they raced to the back of the narrow room; there was only one way in—or out. They ducked down in the back, no light due to the outage. Stiles took out his pistol and clacked it, a small light appearing behind him in the form of the homepage of Melissa's cellphone screen.

An explosion could be heard from outside. And then another one. And then a triple burst of gunfire. But all of that quickly fled to the background when they heard that noise again. They both instinctually covered their mouths, but the sharp intake of air gave them away. And then there was pounding on the door. And angered growling. And then the noises multiplied. Stiles squeezed off two shots, one of them not even hitting the door and the other embedding itself only into one of the zombie's torso. The door tore open, Stiles millimeters away from squeezing the entire clip into the two when automatic gunfire blew through them, blood spattering onto the shelves to their left. The sound of helicopter propellers suddenly invaded their ears and they stood, slowly creeping out of the pantry, Stiles with his pistol sticking straight out.

They turned to see two black-clad commandos, both of them aiming at the windows. Outside they could hear more gunfire and right above them they could hear the source of the propellers. "You guys alright?" one of commandos yelled after checking his left.

"We're fine," Stiles answered back, watching them fire burst after burst at the sprinkled charging zombies, his own eyes still on high alert. After a couple more minutes, one signaled to the other and they slowly crept outside, Stiles and Melissa just behind them. Upon exiting the building, they found three other commandos walking up to them. "'Thanks' doesn't even begin to cover it," Stiles said to the two who'd been inside with them.

"He's right," Melissa began. "I would buy you both a steak dinner under different circumstances."

"That's why we're here, ma'am," one of them said. "We're patrolling for survivors. You and your son are the first ones we've found."

"Oh he's not…never mind."

"There's a second chopper en route. They'll take you to Camp Greenhorn; you should be safe there."

"We were actually headed there," Stiles began, "but we need to find our friends first. My dad is with them."

"Are you sure, kid?" the other one asked. "There's been no other movement. How long ago did you see them; there were a lot of them out there?"

"I saw 'em like five minutes ago. And I'm sure they're out there. My dad's a Sheriff…he knows how to take care of himself." Unfortunately, Stiles sounded more worried than confident as he spoke and the spec ops were doubtful. "Look, we're gonna' go find 'em. There's another car, too."

"Can't let you do that, son," the first one said.

Stiles made to argue with him when it came back. "Heads up!" another commando yelled and the five men all turned to fire to the right of the building: the opposite direction from where Stiles' jeep was.

"C'mon!" Stiles yelled, grabbing Melissa's hand and the two took off, back towards where they came from, both of them sprinting with their guns in-hand. The pleas of the commandos for the to return became drowned out with the gunfire and the deafening return of adrenaline. Surprisingly, they both made it back to the jeep with no 'living' zombie in sight; unfortunately, they didn't see the other three either. Stiles popped open the back and retrieved his two special bags, one containing his sniper rifle and the other containing various druidic supplies and his ammo.

He closed the back and they made to walk around to try and get on top of the overpass when the sound returned from the Starbucks-direction. Instead of trying to run, Stiles tossed up a perfect circle of mountain ash around both he and Melissa, Scott's mother tightly clinging to him, both of them with their arms outstretched and firing upon the almost dozen zombies headed towards them. While a couple fell, some dead and others only crippled, the rest came right upon them and the closest one neared the perimeter of the powder.

And in the moment of truth, nothing happened. The zombie passed right through and only by the grace of precise gunfire from behind them did they survive. The remaining zombies fell in seconds and Stiles and Melissa opened their eyes and turned to see Chris Argent—wielding a sniper rifle of his own—and Stiles' dad holstering their guns.

"C'mon," Chris Argent said, beckoning the two to Argent's SUV. Around the corner, standing next to the black vehicle was Cooper and Tyler.

"We're not gonna' all fit in your truck," Stiles pointed out.

"We don't have to," Tyler said, smirking as his eyes blackened and a nearby car started.