Stargate: Walking Dead

by AmigoButze

Yes, this is exactly what it sounds like. The characters of Stargate SG-1 in the world of The Walking Dead. Check A/N in chapter one for more details.

8. Chapter 8

So, here comes the next chapter. Again, sorry for the delay, but I just couldn't stop writing.

Chapter 8: Days gone by

Her eyes were practically fixed at the wall clock. There was nothing more to do, than watching the time go by. Crouched on the gray floor, handcuffed to Janet Fraiser, she could do nothing else but watching, doubting, worrying, hoping and criticizing herself. She should have actually known that something like this would happen. Those few times she'd acted spontaneously in her life, it had gone awry. Some people could do it. Being spontaneous, improvising and in the end, against all odds, land on ones feet. But Sam Carter was the last person to belong to this exquisite group. She didn't work that way. Quite the contrary. She relied on and felt more confident if she thought things trough before acting. Every possible opportunity for action, including side-effects, every nuance had to be considered extensively.

If she didn't proceed this way, everything went wrong. Just like the moment Joe had left the room and boarded the helicopter. What happened afterwards, was the reason for their lousy situation and it was solely her fault. She hadn't thought, but just acted on impulse. At that point of time Janet Fraiser had been worried dead for her daughter and not been able to think straight. Thereby the responsibility had been on her shoulders alone. And she'd failed.

---

-Flashback-

After Joe was gone both women remained silent, knowing that there was no time to deal with being left behind. What now? The purpose of their resistance was to find that girl. But how, when and where? Should they go right now, or should they wait until the turmoil in the city and region had cooled down? Was it wise to go on their own, or would they need help? And, most importantly, where should they start their search? Everyone and everything was so confusing, that this girl could literally be everywhere. In the city, her school, some refugee center, at a military base, jammed at one of the clogged highways or even at home. So many possibilities and variables. Carter doubted that they'd have the time to check off every option. The problem was basically not that the people felt the need to flee, but that they didn't know where to.

In the absence of useful information, they had then set the goal to leave the building to find a set of wheels and hopefully a speedy drivable access road into the city. Together they had rushed through the seemingly vacated corridors and only stopped when Janet had determinedly flung open the door to the outside. She, understandably, felt very certain about their plan. She was so set on finding her daughter, that the flaws of their so called plan carried no weight at all.

In front of the administration building they saw a disorder bordering on anarchy. Normally, an Air Force base was a model of discipline, rule and order. Basically it was like a giant anthill, a composition of norms, planning and structure. But at this time, nothing of this was to be seen. Instead, both uniformed and civilian staff, were running around confused and wild. Nobody was interested in orders and instructions.

The last incentive to utter mess was a loud bang. Somewhere a few miles away, something had exploded. Carter was looking for a clue in the sky and spotted a slowly rising cloud of smoke. Involuntarily she sighed with relief. Whatever was burning, it was definitely in opposite direction to the city center.

But that was the only good thing you could say about the explosion. On the base, the dark smoke let every last bit of control disappear completely. Everyone was in a hurry just to get away. Carter and Fraiser were rooted to the ground for a moment, not knowing how to react to the situation. An uniformed man hurried past them impetuously, bumping into Fraiser with his elbows and leaving a bruise on her ribs. That was all Sam needed to break out of her immobility.

"Lieutenant! Come back here!" She called after the man when she had deciphered his rank insignia. First, the man went on and ignored them, but when he heard his rank, he paused glancing over his shoulder warily. His eyes fell on Carter's golden oak leaf and his shoulders tensed as he realized, that he could not just leave and disregard a superior officer.

Reluctantly he jogged the few feet back and came to a halt in front of the two women. He stared over Carter's shoulder as if he expected a tongue-lashing. But Sam had nothing like that in mind. While she was in fact his superior officer, she had to admit to herself that she had also lost control over the situation. She was just as disoriented as everyone else here. Addressing reproaches to the Lieutenant for something she herself didn't know how to deal with, would be highly unfair. She simply wanted some information.

"What's going on?" She came straight to the point. The man wiped a layer of sweat from his forehead and glanced worriedly over his shoulder. Almost as if he was expecting an ambush every moment. "We lost contact with the other military bases about 10 minutes ago. The last thing we did hear was a distress call from Ford Carson." He began and then continued in a hoarse voice. "They have been conquered. Ford Carson is lost."

Carter frowned and tried to understand the meaning behind the Lieutenant's words. Ford Carson was the largest military base in the area. It was maintained by the Army and housed some well-trained special forces. To imagine that something so dramatic had happened there, was hard. Even more because she knew that Ford Carson accommodated a considerable amount of refugees.

"What do you mean, conquered? By whom?" Inwardly, she knew that it had to be connected to the virus, but her brain still baulked at the idea of linking this war-like state to the outbreak of this illness. No way would've she expected that a disease could manage to throw the entire country into total chaos.

"They did it. These things! They're like ... "he trailed off, searching for the right word as he suspiciously looked over his shoulder towards the central parking lot and squinting his eyes. Apparently, he was in a hurry to get out of here. "... grasshoppers!" He ended his thoughts and finally added gloomily, "It won't take them long to get here too. I just want to get away as fast as possible."

The urgency of his words was underlined by his unmistakable nervousness. He hooved back and forth impatiently, wringing his hands tensely. "Please, ma'am." He begged, but Fraiser was not ready to let the man go. So far she had stayed in the background, but now she sensed a hint of her daughter's possible whereabouts.
"Where you want to go?" She asked, hoping for a useful information. The man didn't disappoint her. "I'm going home to get my wife. Then we'll drive to the city center. The National Guard established a safe zone. I want to be there before they close it off. "

Fraiser looked excitedly at Carter. How high was the possibility that her daughter was also there? Not significantly higher than the chance of her being anywhere else. But it was their only tangible clue. Maybe they had some kind of list of all refugees there, perhaps they could even tell her where her daughter was. Carter cocked her head and thought about it. It was worth a try.

"Can I go now, please?" The Lieutenant interrupted their silent dialogue. Fraiser shrugged her shoulders almost imperceptibly , leaving the decision to Carter. It wasn't an easy one. On the one hand, it would be wise to join forces. On the other hand, they might not have the time for a detour to the Lieutenant's home. Sam knew how these things went. The martial law had been imposed and the National Guard cordoned off an entire city. Everyone would now try to go there, looking for shelter and help. This would result in congested roads, overcrowding and riots. It wouldn't take long before the safe zone was full and closed off for the fear of outrages.

Carter looked the man straight in the eyes and nodded. "Good luck Lieutenant." The man was so relieved that he almost slumped to the ground, then he returned the greeting and rushed off into the opposite direction. A moment later, the two women began to move, too. They started in a light jog, but soon they felt infected with the general pressure and fell into a sprint.

Sam glanced at the other woman. She ran by her side and her white doctor's coat flapped in the draft. Her features were hardened, but determined and Sam felt a little confidence return into her. Perhaps their search would indeed be easier than expected. Maybe the girl had really made it safely into the city, into this safe zone. And maybe they would not only get that disease under control soon, but also solve this chaos without harming any more people.

They rounded the fences that separated the parking lot from the rest of the base and came to a halt as they stared at the flood of cars there. People ran around and there was loud honking as the cars piled up in front of the already too small exit. Both had been brought here by the Air Force and thus none of the vehicles parked here was theirs. While it would be easy for Sam to short-circuit one of the cars, it was again a matter of conscience, like so many choices these last few hours. Because stealing one car for themselves meant their escape, but also robbed the real owner of his or hers chance for flight.

They encountered another man who, much to their amazement, moved against the general stream and was in a hurry had to return to the base. He had his hat pulled low into his face and remained rooted to the spot when he looked directly at the two women, recognizing them. Carter and Fraiser knew the man, too. It was an airman that had assisted major Davis for a few hours during the evacuation.

He stood perplexed in front of them.
"Major, doctor, what are you doing here? Why are you not with the others?"
Carter indicated with a silent gesture that Janet should answer this question.
"We're looking for my daughter."
The man knew, of course, about the disappearance of the doctor's kid, but he would have never thought that the small woman would carry out her threat and refuse evacuation. Even more so that she was not alone, but had found someone who was willing to help her.

"We're going into the city." Clarified Fraiser, watching along with Carter as the man's facial features derailed.
"The city?" He panted and shook his head jerkily. "No no no. You can't do that. It's too dangerous. " He retorted, grabbing Fraiser's sleeve and trying to pull her along, but the doctor shook the man's hand off roughly. The airman regarded her doubtfully.
"You need to come with me. Both of you." He argued and tried again to grab the stubborn doctor's arm. But she avoided his grasp and put her hands resolutely on his hips.
"I won't. I'm going to get a car and than I'll search for my daughter. In the city." Fraiser made that unmistakably clear. The man took off his cap and ran a nervous hand through his close-cropped hair. "That's not a good idea. What do you think will happen, when hundreds or even thousands try to get into this safe zone? This zone will be anything, but not safe. "
"I need to find my daughter." Insisted Janet again. She was not ready to give in.

The man took a step towards them and gestured wildly. "And where do you start? You can't even know if your daughter is still alive."
The question was completely justified, but absolutely insensitive and the airman earned himself a resounding slap in the face. While the skin of his cheek immediately started to glow red, Fraiser looked threateningly at him.
"Don't you dare to say such a thing again. My daughter is alive. I know it, I feel it."
The man held his burning cheek, not surrendering.
"And what use are you for this kid when you're trampled to death before you even see this safe zone?" He clarified and Carter had to admit that he had a point. They didn't know what was going on exactly. How much of the panic had spread across the entire region, into the city or the streets, let alone whether there even was someone who was responsible and who they could ask for help. The rational part of her brain spoke up vehemently and appealed urgently not to run unprepared into a dead end.

"What do you suggest?" She wanted to know from the airman and put a calming hand on Fraiser's arm. There was no use in quarreling or starting to panic. Logic and order would serve them better than impulsive action. The man thought for a moment and then raised his hands soothingly, because he feared the doctor's renewed resistance.
"Over there," he pointed to one of the smaller buildings with multiple antennas sticking out of the roof, "we have a radio unit. You should first try to contact the National Guard and ask about the state of things before you go."
Carter frowned in confusion. "I thought the radio network is overloaded?" At least that had been her latest information. After all, it had been nearly impossible for major Davis to contact the pilot of the helicopter or his superior officer for hours.

The man in front of them glanced at the floor before he answered. "It was. But only briefly. We've been able to send and receive again for about a hour, now."

"Just like that? How could this happen so quickly?" pressed Carter.

"Do you want to stand around here all day and discuss wireless technology with me, or try to find this girl?" The Airman added a quiet 'major ' when he realized how soggy his statement sounded.

Carter and Fraiser exchanged a few deliberating glances, each of them internally busy considering the pros and cons of following the airman. Janet was fed up with waiting, she wanted to do something. For nearly 12 hours she had been put off, always with the feeling that no one really cared. She was tired of waiting and shook her head negatively. Sam could understand her reaction perfectly. A good mother was ready to do anything for her children. Ready to risk her own life if there was only the slightest chance to help the own child. But that also made her prone to impulsive kneejerk reactions. Right now she was high on adrenaline and it was Carter's job to keep them balanced with her logic, offering an antipole to the doctor's emotional chaos.

She cocked her head and looked at the other woman intently.
"If we could contact a person in charge, that would be a great advantage. Maybe your daughter left a trace somewhere or has been registered in one of the refugee centers. If we go now, without a lead, we might end up further away from your daughter." Sam pointed out.

"If we'd invest just five minutes, it could get us much further than spending hours searching everywhere." She added, trying to gain some control and structure over their situation. Fraiser's petrified face slowly cracked, as the argument of the blonde woman made itself heard in her mind. Finally Janet agreed, although not completely convinced, with a curt nod.

"Five minutes, then we're out of here." She insisted, again pointing out that she was not ready to accept any further delays. "Five minutes. I promise." Confirmed Sam, signaling the airman with a gesture that he should lead the way.

The man began to move right away and jogged towards the building with the antennas. Again, they had to move against the flow, as most only wanted to get away from the complex. This got them a few bruises, but with all the adrenaline in their veins the pain went unnoticed. The airman stopped in front of the entry door, looked around conspiratorially and fished for the right key in his key ring. By the time he found it, his hands were shaking so much that he had to take a moment before he could open the door.

He gestured with his right hand along the empty corridor and towards the gray metal door at the end. "The radio unit is right there, on the lower floor. Through that door, and then down the stairs. But be careful, the light's busted." He took the lead again, but threw them a suspicious glance, as if he expected an attempt to escape anytime.

The metal door creaked as if it was no longer in use and in fact, the space behind was pitch black. The man pulled out a small flashlight, but the dim light was just bright enough that they could see the next two or three steps. Sam and Janet followed him, orienting themselves towards the dim light and feeling their way in the dark using the cold wall like a handrail. Downstairs, the Airman clenched the small flashlight between his teeth and began to work on another door. A ponderous groan rang out and Carter recognized the material by it's sound. It was definitely a heavy iron door. While her brain still wondered why someone would secure a radio room with a heavy iron door, the man pushed both women through said door and into an also pitch black room. Immediately, the musty-oily smells attacked her nose and her pulse quickened. She knew that smell from somewhere. It was familiar in a strange way and at the same time made her skin crawl… Now she knew! It smelled of concrete and steel ... just like in a ...

Sam held her breath startled and whirled around in the darkness, towards direction in which she assumed the front door. But it was already too late. With a creak, the heavy door slammed shut and the grinding noise that followed implied that a lock was used. A moment later it beeped a few times and the numbers of an electronic combination lock shone briefly.

"Airman! Lights, right now! "She ordered in an authoritarian tone that she rarely used because it made her sound like her father and she hated that. In response, two latticed lights on the ceiling flickered to life and the room was enveloped in a cold light. The man stood in front of her and was wise enough at least to appear as if he regretted it. Sam and Janet looked around frantically. Saw the bare, windowless, gray walls. The heavy iron door with the combination lock. The metal shelves which stored supplies packaged in shiny cellophane. The dusty bunks and gas masks. Carter spun around again and stared at the man with an angry look. There was no doubt, he had not led them to the radio system, but into a bunker.

"I'm sorry, major. I saw no other way to keep you safe. You wouldn't have come with me otherwise." The man finally justified, but didn't sound too conscience-stricken. Carter, however, had no desire to stay there longer than necessary and certainly no patience to deal with the man's flimsy reasons. Next to her Fraiser nourished apparently similar hostile thoughts, because her whole body tensed.

"Airman, open the door. Immediately." Ordered Sam and her eyes sparkled angrily. The man swallowed hard. It was really very rare that somebody brought Sam Carter to the point where she was willing to use physical violence. But this was one of those seldom moments. The man had intentionally deceived two direct superiors. Worse for Sam was the fact that she had been so stupid to fall for it. Of course she had noticed the man's jumpy behavior, but she had pushed it away as a simple response to the general confusion. Now she was smarter, but that didn't necessarily consoled her.

The man took a small step backwards and stood at attention, almost as if he hoped to cushion the blow of his next words. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I can't. "
"That was not a request but an order." Growled Sam and had to make an effort so she wouldn't lose her composure completely. Not only the feeling of being trapped, but also the knowledge that her own naivety had made her willingly walk into it was gnawing hard on her self confidence. Her father had not educated her to be so stupid and he would be ashamed if he knew how she had not just gotten herself into this trouble, but Janet Fraiser too.

"You don't listen. Even if I wanted, it won't work. This is an automatic lock. When the lock code is entered, it can be re-opened exclusively after a period of time."
Carter was angry and a breathing heavy as she ran her fingers through the long blond hair. She knew what that meant, but wasn't ready to accept.
"You mean, we can't open the door from inside?"
"Right, that's not possible. This is a bunker in case of an attack with NBC weapons. The programmed time span is intended to prevent people opening the door too soon."

Enraged she walked up and down a few steps, dreading Janet's eyes. She didn't want to see the accusation in them. After all, she had convinced the other woman to come here. It was her fault alone. Her brain searched desperately for a way out. But if the door really wasn't build to open before the end of the period, there was not much she could do. Suddenly she felt very tired and rubbed her burning eyes.

"How long?"

The man bit his lower lip and Janet sighed distressed when he remained silent.
"I asked you a question. How long until we can open the door?" Repeated Sam and looked the airman directly into the eyes. He answered with a hoarse whisper and they almost didn't understand him.
"A month."

No sooner than he uttered the shocking truth, he had to fend off an angry Fraiser who attacked the man with fury, "You bastard! You had no right!" She shouted, hitting every bit of his body she could reach with her fists, trying to inflict as much damage as possible. But the airman was physically stronger, grabbed her by the shoulders and threw Janet roughly to the ground. Carter reached out a helping hand out and pulled her up again, then marched resolutely to the door. Her trained fingers felt attentively around the edges of the electrical combination lock.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Demanded the airman to know and took a threatening step towards her. Sam raised an admonishing finger and the man stopped in mid-motion.
"I'll try to manipulate the lock. If you interfere, I will personally ensure that you spend the rest of your career behind bars, have I made myself clear?"
It was a bold poker. As fast as the situation had developed after the outbreak of the virus, there was no guarantee to know that the structures still existed which allowed her to insist on her higher rank. But her threat seemed to work. For now. The man raised his hands and walked away again. However, the peace was not of long continuance. Sam had just managed to take the cover off the combination lock, when she heard a telltalecracking sound behind her. The sound of someone cocking up a gun.

"I'm really sorry ma'am, but I can't let that happen."
Carter froze in her movement and slowly turned around. As expected the man stood in front of her, pointing a gun threateningly at her. Behind him Janet leaned on the racks, her eyes wide with shock. Sam felt like kicking herself. Stuip, stupid, stupid! Not only had she failed to interpret the man's dubious state of mind correctly, but she had apparently also lost her wits in the haste and missed that the man was still carrying his service weapon, while Fraiser and her were completely unarmed.

"Stay calm, Airman, we can talk about it."

She tried to calm him, knowing full and well that they were at his mercy now. She tried to take a step towards him, but stopped as she watched how his finger moved dangerously on the trigger. Normally, she would try to disarm the man. Yes, he was bigger and heavier, but also seemed mentally stricken. Surely he would not be able to react as quickly as usual. In addition, her close combat skills were excellent. One of the few things for which she was truly grateful to her father. He had bee the best teacher. But at that moment she was afraid to launch an attack.

On the one hand the man seemed extremely nervous and it would not take much to motivate him to pull the trigger. In addition, the narrow space provided too little room for offensive or even evasive maneuvers. Plus, she had to consider the presence of Janet which complicated the situation further. If she wrestled with the man for the gun, she risked Janet or herself getting shot. The risk of a dangerous gunshot wound, without the opportunity for adequate treatment was just too big. So she had no other choice than observing the man very closely and waiting for a sign of carelessness, acting as harmless as possible in the meantime. But instead of accepting her suggestion, he threw her a pair of handcuffs. Instinctively she caught the metal and held it inquiringly in her hands. A sense of foreboding traveled trough her body.

"What now?"
"Chain yourself to the doctor. What are you waiting for? Now!" Barked the man and with every moment he was in control, his confidence seemed to grow. He obviously enjoyed that he was the one giving orders now. Sam hesitated, trying desperately to find a way out, but the airman didn't give her enough time.
"Now! I swear to God, I'll shoot you."
Carter believed him. Not necessarily because he had a gun, but because she could see the naked fear in his eyes. People who felt that kind of scared were capable of everything.
"Okay, okay." reassured Carter. She made sure that her movements were gently and slowly when she first cuffed Janet, and then herself. She avoided looking the other woman in the eyes, she felt too ashamed about her big mistake.

"Sit down." He instructed and relaxed, now that here was no danger to be expected of the two women. He sat wearily on one of the bunks and leaned his head against the wall exhaustedly. Beside Carter, Janet clenched her hands into fists to relieve some tension. Her features were strained with anguish.
"What now?" She finally squeezed out.
The man scratched his head with his hand and shrugged. "We wait."
"And what are we waiting for?" Again Janet.
She sounded awfully tense, almost as if every breath was strenuous.
"That somebody out there get's the matter under control."
"Is that realistic?"

The airman perked his eyebrows in annoyance. Apparently he didn't like the direction of the conversation.
"I don't care whether it's realistic or not. I know only one thing, now way in hell am I going out here again. Everyone who does, dies." He announced, and did not even flinch slightly when he saw Janet understanding his comment's implication for her daughter's fate. She winced as if she had been beaten. But then some compassion and decency fluttered across his face. He rubbed his temples and sighed with regret.
"I know that sucks. And I'm sorry for your daughter, really. But you have to accept the fact that she is probably dead. If we go out there, we'll just end up the same way. So, at least we have a chance."

Janet pressed her eyes together and turned her head. The first bitter tears made their way down her face and Carter felt incredibly sorry that the doctor didn't even have some privacy to shed her tears. Instead she had to expose her grief to this coward.

"We'll have to get out of here at some point. You can't hide in here forever." Sam replied instead. But the man didn't respond and ignored her pessimistic comment as if she never had said it.

-End of Flashback-

---

Nearly a month had passed since and the only thing Carter had to sufficiency, was time. To think, mainly. And to kick herself for this mess. It was all her fault. She was used to people boasting her for her sharp intellect and then all it took was a simple trick to fool her. She probably had spent too many years behind her desk. Her active time in Afghanistan* was a long time ago. Apparently, her instinct had suffered more than she would've expected. The comfortable life behind a computer screen had done her no good, and she had to learn it painfully.

The worst of all was watching Janet suffer. Someone who didn't knew her would think that she held up well, but Sam had spent nearly one month within her presence and knew better. Under other circumstances, they would most likely have become good friends. But Carter doubted that Janet could forgive her that she had destroyed all hopes of searching and finding her daughter. Although the doctor might put on her stoic mask and tried to distance herself emotionally, deep inside she suffered. Her mood only brightened briefly when she talked about her daughter. Sam's respect and admiration for this woman grew each time she talked about Cassie.

Who so unconditionally supported another human being, a traumatized and withdrawn young girl non the less and regardless of the impact on her own live, deserved nothing more than her admiration. Whenever Janet talked about the girl that was not her biological child but that she still loved more that anyone else, Carter could hear that the doctor had not given up hope and it only accentuated her admiration. Fraiser was able, against all odds, to love another person so much that she clung to the hope of a reunion, even if it meant that she only suffered even more. Because letting go, would be so much easier. But instead she kept hoping, staring at the door and waiting for that damn month to end and the door to open.

But what then? When the door opened? What should they expect? It was impossible to predict how the situation had developed in the meantime. But the fact that no one had come to free them, spoke volumes. Maybe there was no one? All dead, or worse, infected. Carter shook her head at herself and her wild thoughts. The United States had about 318 million residents. It was practically impossible that a country with so many resources couldn't beat a virus, even if they had been caught so unprepared. It was just...not plausible. And she should know it, because she had lots of time to calculate it. Probability calculation was the magic word. It was more likely that the government had managed the crisis. Maybe they were still busy cleaning up the mess and simply had not yet reached Colorado Springs? It was possible, it was probable, but it still provided no confidence. Some anonymous voice in her head told her that this was just the beginning of a disaster on an unprecedented scale.

Perhaps they had to accept it. Perhaps it was nothing more than another step in the evolutionary chain. A disaster destroyed all human life on earth, clearing the way for a new, more vigorous and resistant life form. Evolution was the keyword. Why should they be better off than the dinosaurs millions of years ago?

Almost as bad as the uncertainty about what happened outside, was the fragile mood in the bunker. The airman, his name was Gregory Milgram, showed serious signs of paranoia. She was not that kind of a doctor, but she saw her presumption mirrored in Janet's serious expression. One would have thought that his increasingly unstable condition would have given them an opportunity to free themselves, but ironically his paranoia gave him an advantage. He was extremely suspicious and cautious. The two women were not just chained to each other, but also under observation all of the time. When he wanted to sleep, he just chained them to a bunk so they couldn't possibly move without alerting him.

This fact made it impossible to try to overpower the man. He also still had the gun and he was not stingy with throwing it into their faces, showing them that he was the boss. But now, also the physical side effects of their confinement started to appear slowly. The artificial light have her a headache. Since they were practically just lying around, her muscles like jello and the stuffy air made her feel dizzy. Judging from Janet's and Milgram's pale faces, they were not much better off and in Milgram's case, it also added to his confusion.

For that reason alone, Sam couldn't wait for the door to finally open again. Although she had no calendar and no daylight to estimate a normal day-night cycle, she had a wristwatch with date display and this proved to be her greatest treasure. Every time the black figures on the display changed and indicated the dawn of another day, it was a big motivation. Only 35 more days 33, 24, 19, 12, 5, 3, 2, 1 ... and now only a few hours left. She found it hard to concentrate, which was why she didn't remember the exact time they had been locked up in the bunker. But certainly, the door would open today. Despite the uncertainty, she could hardly wait. No matter what kind of world would meet them outside, she couldn't stand being jailed any longer.

She glanced at Milgram, trying to assess his current state of mind. He was moody, daily alternating between euphoria and desperation. For several days Sam and Janet had pondered how they could convince the paranoid man to leave the bunker when the door opened. After all, he had locked them up in because he was afraid to stay outside.

They could of course try to overwhelm him, but the lack of natural light, the stale air, the insufficient emergency rations and lack of movement had left marks. Sam felt weak and tired out. Janet had assured her that it was a side effect of their enforced protective custody and that it would go away as soon as they could leave the bunker. But until then, it wasn't a very good idea to overpower someone. Even if they could strike down Milgram somehow, what was it good for when they injured themselves too? Nothing at all.

So they had waited for one month and developed a tactic to lure the man outside. After some whispered discussions, they had agreed to exploit his fear. He wanted to hide in the bunker because it offered protection and was filled with supplies. However, as soon as the door opened, this protection was over. Because not just could they go out, but also someone could get in. They could no longer hide from the world. In addition, their supplies were running low and they were sure that Milgram didn't fancy starvation. After all, his biggest motivation was to save his life. They had just to make him believe that his chances of survival were better on the outside.

Then things happened very fast. Her mentally preparations were rudely interrupted by a hissing sound. Beside her, Janet straightened and Milgram startled from his cot. It creaked when the heavy lock unbolted. The electric combination lock beeped and the numeric keypad shone green. Then ... the door opened by itself, giving a clear view of the still pitch dark corridor beyond. It looked like a mouth that wanted to swallow them.

Milgram licked his dry lips uncertainly. Then he jumped up and walked purposefully towards the door. Carter and Fraiser were expecting this and figured that he wanted to try to lock the door again. Synchronously they both shot up, which wasn't easy because they were still chained together and moved into his way.

"Out of my way." He ordered and tried to push the women away. But they remained steadfast, knowing that this may be their only chance to get out of here.

"I'll only say this one last time. Out of my WAY !" He shouted, waving the weapon in their faces, but this time not intimidating them.

"You don't want to shoot us." Janet implored.
"I don't, but I will if you force me." Milgram stated stubbornly.
"There's no use in shooting us." Sam pointed out. They had agreed to speak alternately to the man, not giving him time to think straight.

"Maybe I should just do it. You two are nothing but trouble, anyway. There would be more rations for me this way." He growled and pressed the barrel of the gun on Carter's forehead. But she remained very cool. Sam had imagined this confrontation a dozen times in her head and was prepared for this. She nodded towards the cardboard box that housed their last rations.

"You mean that stuff. That'll last just a few more days, even when you're alone. You have to leave the bunker eventually." Argued the blonde woman and noticed how he lowered the gun.

Milgram scratched his head frantically, shaking it in disbelief as he realized what the two women planned.
"No! No way! I'm not going out there." His voice vibrated with vehemence.
"Then just let us go. We don't want to stay anyway. Keep all your rations and let us go." pleaded Janet and at first it seemed as if the man thought about it seriously.

Again and again his head swayed back and forth. He was running shaky fingers through his hair and talking to himself. Fraiser's words made an impact and she peered again towards the open door. She was in a hurry to get out, understandably enough. The hope to find the daughter alive was not extinguished completely.

"You can't do that. I won't stay here alone." He said at last and the women knew that they had to put more pressure on him. Sam made a courageous step toward him, ignoring the gun and looking him straight in the eye.
"Sorry, but you have no choice because we are going now." She declared in a loud voice and then pulled Janet with her.

"What? Just like that. Without clothes, without supplies." called Milgram after them and he was right. The only things they possessed were a pair BDU pants and a T-shirt each. Thank God there had been a few pieces of clothing stocked at all, so they at least hadn't been forced to spent a month in the same clothes.
"How far do you think you'll get, chained together like that?"
"We'll find a way to get rid of the handcuffs." Sam threw over her shoulder.

They walked on. Not looking back, but hearing his hard breathing.

"You can't do this to me. We have to stick together." He insisted. But the women ignored him. They ran on, faster as the approached the door. Both were tense. Milgram had just to lift the gun and shoot them in the back. It was now or never.

"No! Please!" He implored again. The whole self-confidence was gone from his voice. Instead, there was sheer terror. It seemed that Milgram wasn't simply afraid of the world, but also of staying behind alone. It was questionable which alternative he dreaded most.

They passed the door, taking the first steps and finding their way out. Outside, sensations attacked their bodies and nerves.

It was warm, almost hot. Spring had turned into summer without them noticing. The sun was bright, piercing and painful in their eyes. They needed a few seconds to get used to it again. Slowly the pain in their eyes and the noise in their ears vanished.
Sam put her head back and enjoyed as her muscles stretched. It felt wonderful to finally move again. She stretched her arms and legs. Janet did the same, groaning as she flexed a sore muscle.

Only when they felt safe on their feet again, did they scan their surroundings. They stood in the middle of Schriever Air Force Base and were quite alone. It was quiet, almost too quiet. No one was here, everything deserted and indicating that it was this way since their involuntary confinement. A few dirty documents were scurring over the ground, but otherwise nothing moved.

"Where is everyone?" Janet wanted to know Sam and expressed her suspicion.

"I don't think that they even came back."

Janet gaped. "You mean, no one was here since we were locked up?"

"Doesn't look like it."

Fraiser looked back and forth uncertainly.
"Should we search the building?"

Sam bit her lip. It would be only logical to search at the buildings, looking for someone or something that could help them. But she'd rather not stay here, felt watched and unprotected in a strange way. An unexplainable fear spread through her. It was creepy feeling this way, something she wasn't used to.
"No, no one's here." she conculed, not doubting it.

Janet didn't question her words, but accepted them and instead tilted her head questioningly.
"Parking lot?"
Sam felt herself nod even before she understood it intellectually. It was strange, her body made decisions without her mind involved. It was as if some sort of backup program or instinct had taken control of her and decided what was good for her and what not.
"Yes. Let's get out of here."

Fraiser ducked her head and looked around suspiciously.
"You feel that too?" She asked.
Sam sighed with relief. Apparently, she was not crazy when Janet felt the same uneasiness.
"Crazy, right?"
"Let's go."
With rapid steps they walked back the way they'd come just one month ago. Feeling haunted with every step.

Halfway to the parking lot, Sam spun around, sure that someone was following them.

"Hey, wait!" Milgram ran after them.

Janet and Sam looked at each other questioningly. Was this why they had felt pursued? Had it been Milgram the entire time? It could definitely explain this vague fear. The man catched up on them and they noticed relieved that he had put the gun in his pocket, rather than waving it around frantically like he used to in the past.

Without a word he took out a small silver key and a they got finally rid of the handcuffs. His posture indicated that he yielded to their will, but didn't want to talk about his surrender. For once, they seemed to have some luck when they found a car, including keys in the ignition.
"I'm driving." Insisted Milgram. He probably wanted to get some control back.

As the man drove the car from the parking lot and away from the base, Sam risked a last glance into the rearview mirror. She couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching them. She almost asked to stop the car because for a brief moment, she'd seem something move, like a shadow. But it disappeared when she blinked. Probably just her imagination.

"Where to?" Asked Milgram as they'd driven for a few minutes on the dusty driveway. Without hesitation, Janet gave her home address and then glanced at Sam, almost as if she wanted her approval. But Carter just shrugged her shoulders. They still had no clue what was going on so it didn't matter where they went first. Each option possessed the same amount of uncertainty.

They turned left at the next exit and onto the highway.
"What the hell?" breathed Milgram and the two women joined his confusion. The highway was full of abandoned and looted-looking cars. Windows were smashed, baggage lay scattered on the street and occasionally fuel filler flaps looked like someone had broken them up to steal the gas. Many evidences for human life, but no trace of the car's owners.

They rounded the wrecked cars with big eyes behind the windowpanes.
"What happened here?" whispered Sam from the passenger seat. Her question remained unanswered.

They saw scenes like a horror movie. She looked at the bleak scenery, broken down and somehow infinitely sad. Like all life had ceased to exist. They could very well be the last people in the world. What a horrible thought. Carter couldn't tell what she had expected to find, but definitely not this. It was hard to classify what had really happened here, they could only speculate. Where were the owners of the cars? Where had they wanted to go? And most importantly, what had persuaded them to pack up all their belongings only to hastily leave it behind again. In front of them, the city's outlines appeared. There was nothing welcoming about it, rather a bit eerie. It felt menacing, frightening and oppressive without being able to identify what exactly triggered that anxiety.

---

After another 20 minutes driving trough seemingly desolate neighborhoods with Milgram maneuvering the car, they finally turned into Fraiser's neighborhood. From the back seat, Janet leaned forward and peered tensely between the two front seats. Finally back, just around the next corner and then she would hopefully see Cassie again, or was at least find a hint of her whereabouts. Milgram turned off right and they all held their breath in anticipation when a line of white single-family homes came into view. It was a nice neighborhood. Like the average American's dream of the own little house, white picket fence, 2.4 kids and a dog coming to life.

Only this dream appeared to be over for some long time now. The total wasteland was present here as well. Many of the houses showed the typical barricades normally used when a hurricane or something similar announced itself. Nailed together wooden boards in front of doors and windows and padlocks in front of the garages. Parking spaces were empty, deserted gardens and it had been a while since a child had played football on the streets. Under the hot August sun the unwatered grass had burned and turned into yellowish hay, the paint that once had been carefully applied was now peeling off the picket fences. Nothing moved, everything was silent and abandoned. Carter suppressed her body's reaction to the rising unease and...

"Watch out!" cried Janet from the back seat and Milgram stepped hard on the brakes. He tried to dodge, but the worn tires spun on the wet asphalt and the car did a 180. Sam felt the force of the deceleration brutally accelerating her body forward. The last thing she saw from the corner of her eyes, was the vague outline of a bent figure that stumbled right in front of the car. Then her head collided with the airbag and she lost consciousness.

Her head felt pleasantly soft, like wrapped in cotton wool. As if she lay in her warm bed on a lazy Sunday morning. Determined to really sleep in just this once, but then still starting the day early, because she could never withstand the sun's first rays of light. This time, however, she felt no warmth of the sun on her cheek, concluding that Joe must have drawn the curtains. Maybe...
"Sam? Sam! Wake up ... "

That was Joe. He was always woke early on Sundays. It was his habit to make the long journey to his favorite bakery to get them breakfast. The bakery had a little cafe, and on every sunday the crème de la crème of local residents met there, of course totally unplanned, and discussed the headlines of the last newspaper. Academics, businessmen or lawyers. Joe always allowed himself a quick coffee and a chat with his prospective voters. As if he didn't have to deal with them enough during the week. But he insisted that this one hour at the weekend was important. She suspected that he just liked to be approachable to his constituents. He listened to their concerns, talked shop about suggestions and absorbed their praise. He was a politician through and through and enjoyed the dialogue and exchange, the feeling of being important and needed. It had never before occurred to him to ask Sam if she wanted to tag along. Probably because he knew that she would liked a day in the week which wasn't dominated by their work. So, why was he waking her now? Maybe he'd lost again his car keys...

"Sam! You have to wake up now!"
Again this voice, but not Joe, she realized all of a sudden. There was a woman ... Janet! In a matter of seconds the imagination of her cozy sunday morning disappeared and was replaced by the merciless reality. But what had happened? She could only remember that someone had walked in front of their car. Milgram had slowed down, and then? Awkwardly she sat up in the seat and drew a sharp breath when a piercing pain exploded in her head. Instinctively, she touched the throbbing spot on her head and was shocked when her hand came back wet and sticky with her own blood. Before her eyes, the vision cleared up slowly when she felt someone carefully dabbing the bleeding with a rough cloth. She looked to the side and saw Janet leaning between the two seats and taking a hard look at her wound.
"What ..." started Sam and had to stop because her tongue did not obey. She had a terribly dry mouth. Carter smacked her lips a few times, charmlessly trying to her loosen her tongue from her palatine, then tried again.
"What happened?" She asked and registered with a small satisfaction that she had found her voice again.
"I don't know exactly. It happened too fast. I think we collided with something."
Sam nodded in agreement and recognized immediately afterwards that it was not a good idea, as the pain returned. But at least her memory resembled what had really happened.
"How long was I out?"
"Not long. A minute, maybe."
Carter refrained from nodding this time, instead breathing deeply in and out again and checked herself. No pain when breathing, no memory loss and only briefly unconscious. That was good. The chances that she had suffered a concussion or internal injuries were small.

"Am I okay?" She asked because she wanted to be sure. Janet put a gentle hand on her neck and felt for the pulse.
"Looks like it. Nausea? Dizziness?"
Sam was quiet for some time focused on her body.
"No, and no more."She eventually reported.

The doctor exhaled in relief.

"That was a near miss. Which is more than you can say for Milgram."
Only now became Sam aware that there was another body next to her. Gregory Milgram hung lifelessly in between the seat belt. His head lay on the bare steering wheel and looked battered somehow. Blood trickled down his temples and started to dry slowly in the smoldering heat. His airbag hadn't opened and the force of acceleration had slammed his head frontal on the steering wheel's hard plastic.
"Is he ...?" Sam began and broke off as Janet nodded affectedly. The man had deceived them both, threatened their lives and held them hostage for one month. But never would she have wished him death. After all, he had only been afraid, just like everyone else.

Both women tried, out of piety, not to look the man's broken, lifeless body. Therefore their eyes met and widened as they realized something else at the same time. What about the person who had walked in front of the car? As quickly as her still somewhat immobile hands allowed, Sam freed herself from the seatbelt and almost fell out of the car. On wobbly legs, she dragged herself around the hood and experienced the shock of her life. Opposite her, and equally shocked, Janet pressed a hand over her mouth and nose.

In front of them the lay the grotesquely twisted body of a man. He was wearing holey jeans and a dirty shirt. His left shoe was missing, exposing a bare foot and a reddish sole that was almost chafed to the bone. Sam had never seen such a scrawny body. The skin was as pale as dead, bloodless and wrinkled like old leather. Wounds everywhere, like from a fight. The shoulder was twisted in an impossible angle, probably dislocated or broken. In the face, milky eyes stared out of their sunken eye sockets and stringy hair was plastered in old blood. It even looked like at least a few tufts had been ripped out violently. Just as leathery as at the rest of the body, the facial skin stretched over the protruding cheekbones. At least at those body parts where some skin was left. The lips were completely gone and revealed yellow teeth and rubbery gingival. The mouth was surrounded by a large, gaping wound of black discolored flesh. The nasal cartilage was missing completely. Half of the left ear was gone too and judging by the look of it…bitten off!?

But the worst part was the smell. Sam had never smelled something so disgusting. A sweet musk-like odor, mixed with a something like meat that had been lying in the sun for too long. It was the smell of a dead person, the appearance of a dead person. Of a rotting person.

Sam looked away and tried to suppress the nausea that arose when she realized who or what was in front of her. The man was dead and to judging by its appearance and smell, had been for quite a while. Nevertheless, he had been able to stagger around and in front of their car. He was one of them. One of the infected, the transformed ones. Carter forced herself to look at him again. Kind of an exposure therapy. Everything in her strived against looking at the body. But she had to toughen herself against the sight. There was a high probability that she would be confronted with more of those...things...in the near future.

Face of face with what looked like their future, she felt again gall climbing up her throat. She could not hold back any longer and fell down on all fours when her body tensed and forcefully spit out yellowish bile. Janet hurried to her, rubbing her back soothingly as she held the long, blond hair away with the other hand. When her body relaxed again and the nausea disappeared slowly, she straightened up and wiped her mouth.
"Better now?" Asked Frasier compassionately and Sam nodded.

When she trusted her own two feet again, Carter took a few steps and looked testing back at the rotting body. Her stomach responded again, but not as severe as before. Well, at least she'd made some progress. Her eyes examined the neighborhood thoroughly. Lonely and completely deserted. Somewhere, something made a crunching sound and both women startled. Fearing danger they looked around frantically, but couldn't discover another one of these things. Only a rusty flagpole, which probably hadn't seen a drop of oil for a long time, held a lonely national flag that flapped in the wind, totally untroubled with all that apocalyptical mood.

Janet wiped her sweaty forehead, her hands were trembling and she couldn't hide how frightened and battered her nerves were. But she had a goal, someone to focus on and that helped her to maintain control. She nodded in the direction of one of the seemingly abandoned houses. It had to be hers, because it was the only house that was not barricaded. There had simply been no time to even think about it, because she'd gone to work shortly before the outbreak happened and hadn't gotten a chance to come back then because of those agents informing her that she was supposed to be evacuated to Washington D.C. as soon as possible. That morning felt like it was years ago, almost like from another life. At that time she had so firmly believed that they would be able to contain the virus, and finally defeat as well. Oh, she had been so painfully wrong!

Suddenly, the urge was too strong and Janet ran to her house without another word. Sam had no other choice, but to follow her. With shaky legs, she ran after the doctor and it felt as if everything happened in slow motion, as if she moved a little bit slower that everything around her. The noises reached her hear ears with a strange rustling. The flag pole squeaking, Janet's solitary steps crinkling on the shriveled grass. She wondered whether the sounds were real at all, or if her brain simply imagined it because it couldn't bear with the lifeless silence. She followed Fraiser through the door of the house that had been her home once and stopped in the hallway. Undecidedly, because she dreaded invading someone's privacy but also because her mind told her that it wasn't a very good ideal to storm into a house without knowing who, or what waited inside.

Sam opened her mouth to warn Janet, but only managed a hoarse whisper. Deeply concerned, she grimaced as Janet ran up the stairs, not caring that she made a lot of noise.
"Cassie? Cassie! Are you here? Say something, please!" she cried and Sam looked around and listened intently. If there was anything in here lurking for them, it surely was alarmed by Janet's voice. Upstairs, doors were opened and slammed shut frantically. The doctor came down again and rushed past her. Janet repeated her search in, Sam supposed, the kitchen and the living room.

Carter remained motionless in the hallway, feeling oddly out of place. Like a burglar, an intruder into a family home that wasn't hers. At the same time she also felt impotent because there was nothing she could do to help. Janet's cries were now getting hoarse, quiet, desperate. Sobbing mingled with her faint voice and when she stepped into the hallway again, she was almost as pale as that dead creature on the road. Her shoulders were limp, her eyes empty and numb. For the first time since Sam hat met the other woman, it seemed that something in her was ready to finally give up. The stubborn expression in her eyes slowly died out as bitter realization replaced the hope that had been doomed to failure almost from the beginning.

'She's not here." Janet whispered finally and sank exhausted to the ground. Sam felt her own despair rise. She too, had clung to the idea of witnessing the wonder of uniting mother and daughter. That's why she gave up her place in the helicopter, why she gave up Joe, because she thought she could do something good and be part of a happy ending. And it hurt to see how the last glimmers of hope broke, together with Janet Fraiser, on the brown parquet floor.

But Carter refuse to give up so easily. The positive thing about uncertainty was, that theoretically everything was possible and nothing could be ruled out until proven differently. There was no way to know if the girl was dead and as long as there was still a chance, even a minimal one, to somehow find the daughter, she refused to give up. There would be enough time for despair and tears later. Determined she went to Fraiser, grabbed her hand and hauled the broken looking woman back on her feet.

"We have to go." she answered resolutely to Janet's silent, doubting eyes.
"Where to?" Her voice sounded unbearably weak. Nothing compared to the moment she had defied her orders and chosen to stay behind.
"Downtown. Maybe this safe zone is still there. That would explain why we haven't seen somebody else." Her words were not only chosen to motivate Janet, but herself too. Yes, of course, that's got to be it, right? Certainly there were survivors and of course they would be in the safe zone. That's why they had left their houses and cars and that's why no one else was walking around. Because they were secure in the safe zone.

Fraiser nodded thoughtfully, as if to convince herself. "Yes, of course. It's logical, they have to be there." Then she added "She has to be there." and looked at Sam with pleading in her eyes. Asking her quietly to believe in it too, because Janet was afraid she wasn't strong enough to maintain faith alone.
"Let's go."

Without so much as looking at the house again that had been her home for the longest time, Janet followed the other woman back to the road. But now what? How could they get into town? She looked around her neighborhood and felt her confidence fall when she realized that there were no cars. She swallowed hard, because she knew what they had to do now.

Since her eyes were directed disgustedly at the car, Carter must have reached the same conclusion.
"I guess we have no other choice." summarized the blonde woman. If they wanted to get into the city, they would need a car and the only one around was the car they used to get here. The same one, behind it's wheels Milgram's dead body still hung lifelessly.
"I just hope the car will start." commented Janet while Sam and she warily faced the open driver's door.
"Okay, how are we going to do this?" asked Sam and looked at Fraiser quizzically.
The doctor shrugged her shoulders uncertainly. "I'll take the right arm and you take the left one?"
"Let's try it."

Just as they had agreed on, they grabbed the dead body under the arms and tried to drag him out of the seat. He was heavier than he looked and hung like a wet sack between them, complicating their task further. They tried not to stare in his face . It felt disrespectful, as they tore and yanked at his body. But there was no other way, they needed this car.

After five more minutes, they finally made it and laid the dead body on the sidewalk as gently as possible. They said nothing to each other for a few moments. It was hard to leave the man like that, exposed to wind, weather, animals and possibly those things too. He was completely defenseless. That Milgram would come back again, was a thought that didn't impose on them right now. It was still too fresh, too strange and illogical.

Sam was the first to turn away. She walked to the car with tightened shoulders and started to fumble around with the ignition lock. The key had been broken during the crash and the shaft was stuck in the lock, preventing them from starting the car. Janet watched in fascination as Carter's practiced fingers opened the lock and manipulated the cables there. It was not so different from the work Fraiser performed with her hands, when she repaired organs, nerve pathways or torn muscles.

The car spluttered and the displays flared up and went out again.
"Damn! Come on, don't let me down." implored Sam and tried again. And again. And again. Then the car arouse to life with a howl. The women shared a glance of pure relief.
"Yes!" triumphed Carter and her enthusiasm actually elicited a small smile from Janet.

With quick steps she walked around the car and dropped into the passenger seat. They were lucky that the car wasn't damaged worse. The other woman put the car into first gear and carefully pressed the accelerator. Slowly, the car began to move. Sam was about to speed up, when she remembered something and stepped on the breaks.
Janet looked at her questioning.
"Forgot something. I'll be right back."
Carter left the car in idling and ran back to the dead Milgram, searching his pants. First Janet didn't know what to think about it, but when Sam presented her the man's service weapon, she couldn't believe that she'd totally forgot about the gun. They didn't know what to expect in the city. This gun could come in handy.

Carefully, Sam drove around the dead, rotten body and took the turn towards downtown. Away from the neighborhood, which had once been a nice place to live. But this time was over and probably wouldn't come back. If they had stayed just a few seconds longer, they would have experienced as Gregory Mills' body awakened to new life. As the battered skull rose slowly, a groan escaping his bloodshot lips and empty eyes scanning for potential food.

---

Downtown Colorado Springs greeted with an overarching wasteland. Sam and Janet were forced to leave the car behind, because the streets were blocked with concrete barriers, so they proceeded on foot. It was like a ghost town. A strange creepy, menacing trepidation hung heavy in the air, intensifying the musty smell of decay between the buildings, like invisible clouds of poison. A silence that seemed to swallow every sound. Nothing moved, no life, not even a pigeon.

Carter could not remember a moment in her life where she had seen or felt anything like this. Not even when she had flown huge military aircrafts over the deserts of Afghanistan, knowing that their bombs would bring destruction and death. A restlessness rose in her and she had to suppress the strong urge to take flight. Instead, she wiped the sweat from her face and continued down the empty streets. Watching and listening intently for everything. Her pulse quickened, her skin tingled with anticipation and she felt sick again. She couldn't stop it, it was as if her senses were on overdrive. As if her body already knew that something ugly would come and her brain hurried along to process it all.

They passed withered grass verges, bashed in shop windows, bullet holes in facades, sooty barriers, abandoned suitcases and other broken household stuff that littered the roads and footpaths. Sam saw a small teddy bear, smeared with something that was disturbingly similar to dried blood. She quickly looked away and tried not to think what had happened to its owner. It felt like she was inside a horror movie, just without the reassuring knowledge that it was all made up. No, far from it, this was real.

They'd been walking silently for about 15 minutes, when Janet suddenly stopped beside her, staring into the distance. In front of them the asphalt was heating up under the sweltering heat and the typical heat haze occurred. First Sam believed that her mind was playing tricks on her, but Janet's frightened breath convinced her of the opposite.

In front of them staggered a solitary figure down the road. It's long arms hung lifeless down the scrawny body. The movements were jerky and somehow seemed aimless. Sam recognized at once that it was one of those things. She backed away a few steps and saw with horror that Janet did the exact opposite. Carter tried to hold her back, but only caught hold of the white lab coat and could not prevent that Janet just slipped it off as she ran after the figure.

Sam didn't know where the thing came from, but she suddenly felt very certain that they shouldn't attract its attention in any case. A hoarse "No" escaped her, but it was already too late.
"Hello! We need help!" screamed Janet to the tottering figure and came to a halt a few meters away. Sam held her breath.

The thing turned around painfully slow, the movements stiff and uncoordinated. As if half of the body refused to obey the brain. Carter had now caught up with Janet and tried to pull her away again. But the doctor stood stock still, not moving.

Sam had no choice than to watch with a shudder. The thing was even worse further ravaged than the last. From the head hung a yellowish skin flap, exposing the white bone of the skull. A fork was stuck in the right temple. The jaw was dislocated and swayed with every movement. Tongue hanging limply from it's mouth. It gasped as it came towards them, stumbling, awkwardly dragging the left leg behind.

Janet stared at the thing in front of her. At the pitiful remains of something that used to be a human. She couldn't move. The thing emanated perverse fascination. It was compelling and disgusting at the same time. And shocking, traumatizing. She was a doctor, the human body was her vocation. Nothing about it was unknown or concealed to her, not even decay.

What had her so paralyzed was not mere sight, it was the significance of this thing's existence. It was the personification of the fact that everything had changed, reversed into negative. The natural human rhythm of birth, life and death was no longer valid. These elementary rules of their existence were overridden. If she had been sure about one thing, especially as a medic, it was the knowledge that death meant the end of life. That death was the end. Your could fear this finality, but on the other hand it was stabilizing. It was a grounding effect, locating every living thing into the rhythm of life. If this basic rule of life and death was no longer valid, what other rules could last?

Overwhelmed by these thoughts, Janet felt the indomitable urge to submit the thing in front of her the natural course of life. She didn't want to see, hear or smell it. It disgusted her because it called into question all that she had previously regarded as unalterable. Life was for the living, after all. Her brain gave the order and her body followed. In slow motion, she watched herself pulling the gun out of Carter's pants pocket.

The blonde woman looked at her with frightened eyes and moved her lips. She shouted. No? Had she said no? Fraiser wasn't sure. The voice reached her as if from another world, faded and blurred.

It was actually a long time ago since she'd used a gun. Nevertheless, her hand raised automatically. She aimed at the thing, targeting the head and pulled the trigger ... The shot sounded loud and procreated itself in the silence of the city. The bullet pierced the thing's head. Immediately all life slipped away from it's limbs. It fell to the ground like a house of cards.

Her ears were hissing with noise. Fraiser could see nothing else than the lifeless body in front of her. That was her future, she suddenly realized. There was nothing she could do about it. Your soul, if you wanted to believe in such a thing, would die. But the body would come came back, rotting in the heat of the sun and there was nothing she could do about it. She would absolutely lose control. Would do things other people, attacking and eating them and without the power to resist it.

Oh God! Had the same happened to Cassie? Unbidden pictures invaded her mind. She saw Cassie. Her pleading look that morning when everything had still seemed under control. How she had pleaded not to have to go to school and how Janet had denied her this simple wish. As the young woman hurried through the city, all alone. Hunted by these things. They were catching up on her now, groping her, bringing her down and their greedy fingers dug into her body...

Anger dammed up inside her and erupted in more shots. Janet fired so long at the thing until the magazine was empty. And even then she didn't stop pulling the trigger. She couldn't. She was in a frenzy. Her body had finally found a valve to get rid of all the stress.

She stopped only when a warm hand touched her. Carter's face appeared before her, blocking her view at the thing and breaking the spell. Janet suddenly awoke from her state of intoxication and looked squinting at the other woman.
"It's okay. It's dead." Sam muttered, pulling carefully at the gun's handle. Janet eased her grip and the gun fell empty, thus with no more use for them, on the ground.

Suddenly she was ashamed of her meltdown. The thing had died with the first shot. She had wasted all the ammunition for no reason. Even worse she had ,like a madman and infinitely brutally, demolished the body of another human being. Without remorse, without doubting the rightness of her action.

"I ... I need a moment." She stammered finally.
Carter didn't look excited, in fact she was in a hurry to leave. But she nodded nevertheless and took a few steps back to give her some privacy. Fraiser took a deep breath. The warm, moist air brought her no relief.

What was wrong with her? Had this world already started to brutalize her? Macerating her to make her violent? For some reason it occurred to her that everything would be better if she could only find Cassie. That it was just her guilt that had her going ballistic. But it wasn't that easy to excuse her behavior. It was unfair to justify her mistake with Cassie's disappearance.

"Oh, no." Said an alarmed voice behind her.
She whirled around and realized immediately, what a big mistake she had committed. From the direction they had came from, a tottering group undead advanced. They moved asynchronously, slowly but steadily towards them in a menacing manner. The consequences of her shots became clear to her. She had been so stupid and had attracted the attention of those things. She had been fooled by the emptiness of the city, hadn't expect that the streets were not as abandoned as they seemed. She felt her heartbeat throbbing through her body. Her breathing quickened until she was panting. Fear crept through her whole body.

Carter recovered first. She turned her eyes away from the threatening death, grabbed the other woman's hand and sprinted with her to across the street. Their shoes made a thudding sound when they ran over the hot asphalt. They had just made about 20 meters, when their hope for escape was crushed. A next group of undead appeared before them seemingly out of nowhere. Just as wheezing, stinking, decaying and hungry like the others.

The two women whirled around and ran back the other way. One group of undead behind them and one in front of them. Both slowly coming closer and encircling them. Soon the air was filled with moist panting and snorting and shoes being dragged over the ground. They tried to break out to the left and startled as the flickering contours of another group of those monsters neared. They were surrounded and there was only one clear path left, straight ahead.

They sprinted in-between the three approaching groups, passing two tall office buildings and seeking refuge in a narrow alley. Abruptly, they had to stop. Janet ran a frantically hand across her face. Sam felt despair and bitter tears rising. It was a dead end. Before them, the wall of another building extended into the air. A disgustingly stinking dumpster stood in the corner. A few cardboard boxes, but nothing else. No fire escape, no back door, no way back, both women had to realize painfully.

The three groups of monsters now met in the middle and gathered into huge clump of staggering dead bodies, effectively cutting them off the road. And they had nothing else in mind than eating.

Carter and Fraiser looked at each other in desperation. They were trapped. It was over.

---

-In the meantime on the roof of a near building-

On the hot roof of a nearby office building, lay three men and observed the scenario that took place on the street below. Colonel Jack O'Neill was between the two Jonas's, Hanson and Quinn, and regretting it already. He had to endure their bickering virtually in Dolby Surround Sound. It gave him a headache, complicating his thinking.

The three men had been off to a small shopping tour. Their target was a supermarket in the city to stock up some their scarcest inventories. Canned food, mainly. And hygiene items, lots and lots of soap. Not being able to have a good wash was slowly, but surely, freaking out the camp's residents more than their strongly cut rations.

The three of them were of course aware of the danger. It was not their first trip to the city and they had developed a so far successful tactic. They had noticed the small group of Walkers right after they'd reached their destination, but decided that they wanted to try nevertheless. A few of those critters weren't that big of a risk, if you did it properly.

They'd agreed that O'Neill and Quinn would search the supermarket, while Hanson, with his sniper rifle, positioned himself on the office building. He had a good view from there and was able to observe both the supermarket and the occasional groups of biters and could warn the other men in time if necessary.

And that was just what had happened. Hanson had discovered the women before, but didn't consider it necessary to give the others a heads up. Only when the smaller of the two had been so stupid to shoot around and attracted attention of all stray Biters within proximity, was Hanson forced to act. Because one of the group of Biters walked just past the entrance of the supermarket and there was always the danger that some of them would find a way inside, taking O'Neill and Quinn by surprise.

At once he had given them a signal with the radio and the colonel and Quinn had been able to leave the supermarket via the backdoor without being detected. Afterwards, they'd climbed a nearby fire escape before it was cut off and reached the rooftop safely. The trick was in fact to fly under the Walker's radar and if possible not to attract their attention. A trick, those two women surely didn't know.

Now they were on the roof and watched stunned as the two women dug themselves even deeper into the shit. While O'Neill watched in silence, the two Jonas's argued. O'Neill commented the women's stupidly with a shake of his head. How could they just be so dump and trudging through the city like a bull in a china shop. Without help, the women wouldn't get out of there alive.

To his left Quinn had probably recognized the same thing and now babbled incessantly at him. He appealed urgently to him that they had to do something to help the women. To his right Hanson argued against it. Jack tried to ignore them both.

"Colonel O'Neill, we have to do something. There's not much time." Quinn's urgent voice reached his ears.

"Oh, come on. They had it coming. Shooting around like crazy." retorted Hanson and suggested, "We'd better get lost ourselves. Can't get a better distraction."

Jack pressed the binoculars to his eyes and analyzed the situation. Hanson was right. All those critters had united in a bizarre race to reach the women first. Their clumsy jiggle was almost amusing, if they were not on the verge of tearing two people apart right in front of them. But fact was also, that the Walkers were so focused on their prey that they would not notice if three men sneaked past them. Their car was parked just a block away. If they left now , they could be out the city and out of danger in 10 minutes.

"We can't just leave. We have to help them." Implored Quinn again. And again Hanson argued against. "We have to think of ourselves first. After all, they ruined our shopping tour and got into trouble all on their own. Colonel, we should make the best of it and get out safely as long as it's still possible."

They were both right, as a matter of fact. If the women wouldn't get help quickly, they were dead. On the other hand, there was no guarantee that a rescue attempt would save everyone. They could just as well all bite the dust. But for Jack it wasn't about doing the pragmatically right thing. He was interested in choosing the morally right thing.

"But look closely. They are military, too. You can't just let your comrades die." Protested the younger of the two Jonas's and gestured towards the street. The two women actually wore uniforms. Camouflaged BDU trousers and black T-shirts.
"Oh, give it a rest! I bet they stole the stuff." Disagreed Hanson. His objection wasn't far fetched. A week ago, they'd discovered a mobile checkpoint of the National Guard. But unfortunately someone else had been there first. The makeshift store had been cracked open and completely emptied. They'd just found a few stray rounds of ammunition.

"But what about 'semper fi'?" Quinn didn't give up easy. He couldn't believe that Hanson didn't show any kind of drive. He had always believed that there was a strong solidarity among military personnel.
"Those are the Marines. We're Special Forces." Hanson rolled his eyes and threw his colonel a look that seemed to say: Can you believe this guy?
But O'Neill didn't react and kept staring through his binoculars.

"Okay, then just ... .opresso liber."
From opressed to free, their unit's credo. It should lead them, help them make decisions and set up a moral standard. The question was just, was it still applicable to this new world?
"Those are just words." Said Hanson, shrugging his shoulders indifferently.
"So, they have to die because you're afraid of your own courage?"
Hanson refused to put up with that accusation. "What do you want from me? You've got no idea. This is real and not a movie. You can do whatever you want. Go and get yourself killed, but leave me out of it."

"Oh for crying out loud! Shut the hell up, both of you. I gotta think." O'Neill's stern voice finally ended the cockfight between the two Jonas's. And he meant it. Their cackling drove him to madness. He couldn't work like that and certainly couldn't construct a rescue plan. Because, that they would try to help the women, had never been a question for him. There was no doubt that they would try to rescue them. He most certainly wouldn't lay up here in relative safety and play pocket pool, while two people were bitten to death. But for that, they needed a good plan. These things were neither clever nor quick, but the purest hell when coming up as a crowd.

While Quinn and Hanson were smart enough to shut up, O'Neill probed the situation. He cataloged the terrain, the Biter's position, the position of women, open and blocked escape routes and possible traps. He was in his element, and needed just a minute to come up with a useful plan. Now he just had to explain it to the involuntary Jonas brothers. There was not much time left. Maybe a few more minutes, then it was over for the women. He put the binoculars away again, rolled over on his back and waved both men closer.
"Okay, this is how we do it."

While Hanson groaned unhappily, a wide grin broke free on the former student's face.
"So we help them?" He asked hopefully.
"You betcha." replied O'Neill with his usual ease. But he couldn't avoid feeling a little offended that it was obviously a surprise for Quinn that he had chosen a rescue attempt. For Jack, it was impossible to even think abut not helping. He'd assumed that the younger man knew him better than that.

Contrary to other beliefs, Hanson was no fool. He knew when he was overruled. It didn't please him, and in fact, it got him hopping mad that O'Neill wouldn't even consider to hear his opinion. Instead, he now presented some crazy hara-kiri plan. But the colonel was still the boss, so he complied.

At the end Hanson's part proofed to be the most comfortable, what he of course owed to his abilities. It wasn't even necessary for him to move from his spot for this dubious rescue. He was an excellent sharpshooter and his superior knew it. His skills were less useful on the street. O'Neill wanted him to hold his position to provide over watch and cover, if needed. He was supposed to watch and if necessary, eliminate those critters who came too close with some well-placed shots.

Meanwhile, O'Neill had intended the most dangerous part for himself. But that was not a very big surprise. Hanson didn't know him very long, but was already aware that the guy had a serious hero complex. There was certainly no use in denying the colonel's experience and skills, but he always had to play the selfless hero act. Hanson sometimes wondered why it didn't bother him most of the time, after all he, Kowalski and O'Neill had the same qualifications, training and thus the same value. Actually, it was rather intolerable that the older man always had to push himself to the fore. On the other hand, however, it also meant less danger for him to become critter supper one day. But one should not mistake his survival instinct for fear, because that would be wrong. He enjoyed the thrill, that's why he was a soldier. But he didn't think too highly of risking his life for something completely pointless.

This being the case, he made himself comfortable in the relative safety of the rooftop, while O'Neill and his lapdog, Quinn, conducted the main part of their unnecessary rescue mission. The two started to climb down the fire escape on the building's facade. Halfway between the roof and the street was a turn-off. From there a ladder led towards the street while a grid walkway connected the other side of the building with the fire escape and allowed the employees from those offices to save themselves in the case of an emergency.

While Quinn climbed the ladder, O'Neill took off into the other direction, reached the other side of the building, jumped down and sneaked up behind the group of Walkers on the women's right flank. The plan was to distract them somehow. How that was supposed to work exactly, Hanson had no clue. But the colonel was obviously convinced of his idea to set off the alarm systems of abandoned cars. They had observed that these things responded quickly to all kinds of noises, the louder the better. In addition, Hanson saw no realistic alternative. After all, that was a really big group of Walkers and O'Neill would have to make hell of a noise to make his plan work.

The older man had in fact planned that the noise could lure the Biters on the right side away. Once Quinn heard the first alarm, he was supposed to attract the women's attention. As soon as the first creatures walked towards the source of the noise, gaps and space would emerge, which both idiots in deadlock hopefully recognized and used to escape. The saving fire escape was at the other side of the street, diagonally opposite their current position. If those women were not quite as stupid as it seemed now and could ran fast enough, they had a realistic chance of reaching the fire escape before the critters got them. Quinn should help the women climb the ladder and then usher them up to the roof, where they would meet with Hanson. By then, the colonel should have enticed the Walkers away far enough for Hanson, Quinn and the women to leave the roof unnoticed, reach their car and head out of town.

When the Colonel had declared his master plan, Quinn had of course felt the need to contradict again. He wanted to know how O'Neill intended to get back to the camp. But the other soldier hadn't thought that far. Hanson himself didn't worry much. Somehow the colonel would get out of there again. For a single person, there were many opportunities to outpace those things or hide from them. After all, they moved slowly and awkwardly in the crowd. O'Neill was clever and fast enough to save his skin and if not...there were always victims.

The colonel had stopped any further discussion with a resolute gesture, after all, they were in a hurry. No wonder, Hanson noted. He took his time to reposition his body on the roof. Lying on his stomach and supporting his torso with his arms, he peeked through the gun sight of his rifle. It would be a tight squeeze for the women. He moved his eyes and discovered O'Neill on the street and Quinn waiting on the fire escape. The colonel scurried in a crouch between the filth on the street, moving forward.

It would start soon. Hanson put his neck back a last time to loosen the tension. Then he waited patiently for the time his skills were needed.

---

-back in the dead end-

In the impasse, both women pressed her backs against the cold wall behind them. It was a desperate, but futile, attempt to get as much distance between themselves and the approaching monsters. Carter felt the adrenaline pulsing through her body, her heart beat wildly and her hands stiffen into fists. She knew that it was a typical reaction of her body. A remnant from the Neanderthals. A reflex to prepare for an escape. But it was in vain.

There was no way out, no opportunity to get out of this deathtrap. They were surrounded and those monsters blocked every possible exit.

Dozens of decomposing bodies approached them agonizingly slow but relentlessly steady. The stench of their rotting bodies made breathing difficult. They groaned, gasped, growled and wheezed so loudly, that Sam thought her head would explode.

Although her body was not ready to give up and produced fight-or-flight hormones in abundance, she knew that it would be over soon. They needed a miracle now and that happened only in the science fictions movies she loved so much. Not because she liked the action or the storyline, but because Sam enjoyed uncovering the scientific errors. While she had the fun of her life, this habit of hers was less appealing to others. There was a good reason why Joe refused to go to the movies with her.

And even if they got a chance to escape, Carter was not sure whether she was even in a position to use it. The certainty that it was over, that it was only a matter of seconds until these things reached them, until they ... would tear them into pieces...

She feared the pain, having to witness how her skin was torn apart and her guts were ransacked. She was afraid to die and worst of all, to come back. All those fears were fighting against the last bit of will to survive she could muster. But soon the fear would subdue and paralyze her. Helplessly trapped in her own body and scared stiff. No choice but to count the agonizing seconds and watching as disaster approached.

The first monsters had reached the access to the dead end and tumbled towards them. As more and more arrived, their parched bodies wedged and clogged the access. A pause to take a breath. On the right, the undead were particularly persistent. One of them squeezed himself in-between the wall and the other monsters. Its cracked skin rubbed on the raw material along the wall and a big, rubbery flap of skin got stuck on the plaster. The monster went forward with unsteady steps. Drool running down its chin. It received a push from behind and faltered. The ankle twisted and you could hear a crackling sound as porous bone cracked. The thing reacted in no way, seemed to feel no pain at all.

Carter would have never thought that she would end this way, had never imagined her death at all. She just turned 30 this year. Not a young woman anymore, but still too young to think about her own demise. After all, she was working behind a computer screen, for god's sake! Her biggest risk was cutting her skin at the copy paper. Certainly, during her time in Afghanistan death had always been a possible risk. But even then she had refused to think about it. Although she wasn't superstitious in any way, she knew about the principle of self-fulfilling prophecies. The more she expected something to happen, the more likely it would actually happen.

But now, there was no need to imagine things, because it was real. It would be all over in less than a minute. Maybe it was even the most humane solution, if you considered this new world. Sam just hoped it would be over quickly.

She felt Janet's hand take her own, sweaty and clammy, but squeezing firmly. The doctor also knew that this was the end. The only thing they could do now was enduring this together.

Following an instinct, she closed her eyes. Maybe it was easier this way, if she didn't see disaster coming. But without vision, she was forced to experience her other sensory impressions more intense. The noise, the stench, the heat. Sam took a panting breath and opened her eyes again. She couldn't do it. It was much worse with eyes closed. If she had to die now, she wanted to at least see it coming. Wanted this last bit of control, estimating and calculating until greedy fingers ripped her skin.

Her breathing became fast and faster, more hectic, more desperate. Her body constantly told her to flee, but her brain refused. Still, she pressed herself more firmly against the wall. Felt the raw surface through the sweaty shirt. Blood roared so loudly in her ears, that it almost drowned out the noise of the undead.

Both officers failed to notice the shrill horn at first. The alarm mingled completely with the grunting. But then a second car horn howled, and another one, and another.

Carter and Fraiser registered the howling now, but couldn't relate it to their situation. Their concentration was focused fully on the mass of dead monsters. Although they couldn't yet unterstand the noise's importance for them, they observed the effect. Not withouth a certain fascination, they watched as the first undead turned their shaky heads. As mindless robots, they left their victims and staggered off in a different direction. Not all of them, but enough that their group thinned out considerably. Gradually, a clear path emerged. Could this be? An escape route?

Her mind had difficulties to keep up with what was happening in front of her, and the sun in her eyes made it even more difficult. Carter turned her head away, but the light followed her, blinding her. But wait, since when could sunbeams track someone?
It wasn't the sun.

Excited, she tried to look past those things to discover the source of light. She recognized it on the other side of the street.

Sam blinked frantically and squinted her eyes to get a better view. Someone hung on the facade, no, he hung in a fire escape and ... was bending his wrist in a funny way. Suddenly he stopped, the light disappeared and he began to wave at them wildly. With the prospect of rescue, her brain started working at full speed again. The unknown man had probably used the glass of his watch to catch and reflect the sun's light, trying to attract their attention.

She felt tears of relief burn in her eyes. Confidence returned, spread through her body and escaped in a sob. Was that possible? There was actually someone who wanted to help them. That there was still a chance to get out of this seemingly final deathtrap.

She grabbed Janet's hand and pulled her along determinedly. At first she felt Janet hesitate, but then the doctor moved. They darted in between the bodies and the wall. Ducking, they hurried through the narrow strip of free space that had appeared because some of the things staggered away, distracted by the car horns. Some endlessly appearing seconds, all they saw they were bony, pale limbs. Bare feet, arms, legs, hands and mouths that greedy snapped at them.

Carter felt a cold hand grabbing her shoulder, but fortunately it just managed to catch some of the shirt fabric. Intuitively, she gave the monster a blow with her elbow and was able to shake it off. With her head down, Sam maneuvered them trough the group of stinking bodies.

And then suddenly, they had made it out of the dead end and were back in the street. But they were far from being save. Although their right flank was now almost clear again, they were still pursed from undead at the other side. Several dozen of them dragged themselves in their direction.

"Over here, quick!" Cried the man opposite them on the fire escape and beckoned. Sam gave Janet a shove and motioned for her to go ahead.

Janet understood immediately and sprinted on. Sam followed her and felt immense relief when she saw as the doctor jump, get hold of the bottom rung of the ladder and then being pulled up by the blond man.

Now it was her turn. The rescue was so close. She ran towards the ladder and counted the meters.

15, 10, 8, 7, 5, almost there. Just a few more steps and then ...

Ow ... that hurt.

For a brief moment she was completely confused when she found herself lying on the ground. She'd run against something that materialized suddenly in the way. Before her mind could add up two and two together, she heard the characteristic shuffling of shoes on asphalt. Sam swallowed hard as she looked up to confirm her fears. In front of her stood four of those things and watched her almost pitifully. Their drool dripped down in long strands, landing right in front of her feet.

Carter almost howled with renewed despair, when she was forced to crawl backwards to extract herself from those thing's hands, but also distancing herself from the saving ladder. She looked past two bald heads and saw Janet, who stared back at her with frightened eyes.

Startled, she turned her head as behind her the groaning and shuffling grew louder again. Slowly but surely she, they circled her. At least Janet had managed to get away, Sam thought as one of the monsters before her fell on its knees, a greedy and rotten hand grabbing her ankle.

---

-About a block away-

O'Neill swore when he saw the blonde woman fall. She'd been so focused to reach the ladder and entirely missed that a small group of scattered Biters had managed to sneak up on her from the left. She'd collided head-on with one of them and fallen like a sack of potatoes.

Until then the two women, especially the taller of the two, had done a good job. The smaller one was already save with Quinn on the fire escape, but the other one was running out of time now.

His plan to lure the Walkers away with the car horns had worked like a charm, otherwise the women wouldn't've made it out of the dead end. Now he was crouched behind a battered taxi, staring through his binoculars again. His undead pursuers knew where he was and closed up on him, but O'Neill estimated that he had still about one minute before it was time to move. More than enough time for a quick look to see how his plan worked out.

Jack felt a tingling in his fingers, as the urge to do something rushed through his body. But he was too far away, there was not much he could do. He looked at Quinn. The student was still standing on the fire escape, torn between the need to help and not knowing how. Even if he jumped down on the road, he would most likely get caught before he could even reach the woman.

O'Neill struck a fist against his forehead. Think, think, think! Come on Jack, there had to be something. Something obvious he was missing. The moment his mind realized it, he grabbed the binoculars and his eyes darted back to the roof.

Hanson! What the hell was he doing up there, anyway? Certainly not his job!

In fact, he found Hanson exactly where he had left him. But instead of supporting Quinn and the women's escape, the younger man had his scope focused at O'Neill. For his sake, Jack hoped that Hanson simply didn't know what was happening on the street and not, that he didn't care.

Jack gave up his cover behind the taxi to waved at the man on the roof. The Walkers who had followed him were limping faster now, but that didn't matter. O'Neill gestured wildly with arms and hands and then took a controlling look through the binoculars to see if Hanson had understood his subtle little hint. He breathed a sigh of relief as the sniper rifle was realigned.

Jack watched tensely as the blond woman crawled backwards to avoid the Biters in front of her. One of them was even clutching her shoe. He waited for Hanson's shots. At first, nothing happened and O'Neill was about to send curses his way until he calmed himself and remembered, that he had to give the soldier time to aim.

A moment later the loud bang of a shot cut trough the sticky air.
"Fuck!" moaned O'Neill. No hit. But then three more shots followed in quick succession and this time Hanson was successful. Three bullets pierced their way through porous skulls and rotting brains. One by one, the three Biters slumped to the ground.

Jack peered back at the woman. She was still lying on the floor, staring at the three lifeless bodies in front of her. It was a good pair of binoculars, he could even see that she was trembling all over. But otherwise, she didn't move. Their closest pursuers were dead, but the next one's weren't far behind. They would reach her in a matter of seconds and he knew that Hanson hadn't enough ammunition to ward them off.

"Come on, blondie." encouraged Jack. But she just didn't want to move.
"You go girl!" He repeated his silent support and finally ... some life returned into her.

She kicked the Walker's dead body away from her, jumped to her feet and ran. But the next obstacle came her way. Two other Walkers stood between her and the ladder, stretched their scrawny arms at her. But rather than letting them intimidate her again, she quickened her movements, dived headlong in between them with a dive roll and elegantly coming to her feet again. Not looking back once, she jumped up and grasped the saving ladder with both hands.

Jack took a deep breath. He still had the luxury of a few additional seconds to ensure that both women would make it up the roof. Then he put the binoculars back into his pocket and sank to the ground behind the cab. Right now, he felt really tired and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Now he had to think about his own escape. He couldn't hide here much longer. He wanted to take a look over the hood of the taxi, when suddenly a semi-decayed face appeared in front of him. Jack didn't think, just responded. His hunting knife in hand, he rammed the sharp blade into the bone there, the skull almost exploding from the force. Blood and brain splattered around him.

Ugh! He absolutely hated it when that happened.

Walker-blood, yuck!

Walker-guts, double yuck!

But Walker-brain-slopper? THAT was a triptastic I-need-a-chemical-cleaning-right-now kind of yuck!

When he felt small chunks of bone and cartilage on his face, his mood deteriorated significantly.

Disgusted, he had no choice but to wipe the bloody knife in his pants. He peered over the Biter's right shoulder and realized that this one had just been the vanguard. The other critters had almost reached him. It was time to beat a hasty retreat. How exactly he'd get back to the camp, he didn't know yet. But he was good at improvising. He'd find a way. And if not ... oh heck, he'd cross that bridge when he came it.

With a last look at the office building, he saw the contours of four living figures scurrying across the roof. A satisfactory grin in place, he started to run.

---

-At the roof-

Carter grabbed hold of the edges of the roof and was grateful when the blond man pulled her up. Everything in her body told her that it was time for a break, but she knew that they didn't had that luxury. It was funny. She knew neither name nor anything else about her unknown savior, nevertheless she'd followed him willingly. Remembering Milgram, she hoped she wasn't making the same mistake again.

There was a second man waiting for them. He wore dark brown cargo pants and a black T-shirt. His dog tags were glinting in the sun. A soldier. His face displayed a irregular grown beard and an ill-tempered expression. She took a step back when she saw the sniper rifle and watched the two men with distrust.

"Don't worry. He's okay." Assured the blond man, pointing to his fellow.
"That's Jonas Hanson, I'm Jonas Quinn."
The two women looked at him incredulously, but he took it with humor.
"We're not related, or something."
"Hell, no!"agreed to the bearded man, drumming impatiently on the barrel of the rifle.

"What's your name?" asked the blonde Jonas and seemed quite exited to meet someone new. Before Sam and Janet could answer, the other Jonas started to argue.
"Quinn, save the hellos for later, okay. We gotta go." He stressed anxiously. The younger of the two frowned in confusion.
"What about the colonel?" The other rolled his eyes annoyed.
"The colonel is a big boy and can take care of himself. Honestly ...," he added because Quinn seemed anything but convinced, " ...the guy's like a cat. You know, seven lives and always landing on his feet? Besides, he gave us an order. And you do want to refuse his order, right?" His question was loaded with something sardonic, but Quinn remained unaware. Instead, he seemed horrified with the idea of ignoring an order from this mysterious colonel.
"No, you're right." he agreed and told the women, "We have to go. Our car's not far away. We'll drive to our camp."

"A camp?" asked Janet for the first time since she'd so rashly shot at the female undead, nearly killing them both. Her voice sounded shaky, but also hopeful. "You mean the safe zone?" She wanted to know.

The two men looked at her in disbelief.
"Yeah, sure sweetheart. We'll go to the safe zone. They've got milk and cookies and then we all join hands and sing kumba-ya." Sneered the man named Hanson and chuckled at his own lame joke.

"No. The safe zone was destroyed right away. But we have a camp in the woods outside the city. Near Pikes Peak." Explained the younger man quickly and tried to keep the damage his colleague had provoked as low as possible.

Carter and Fraiser exchanged some silent glances. On one hand, it was not a good idea to follow two strangers to their camp. Especially not when one of them behaved like a total asshole and the third man, this absent colonel, was only referred to in third person. But Jonas Quinn had saved their lives and this Hanson guy must've at least helped some. Carter was pretty sure that the shots that had saved, her had come from his rifle.

But it was not as if they had another choice. They still didn't really know what was going on at all, what consequences to expect or how much of their civilization was left. And besides, where else could they go? They couldn't stay in the city. Especially not alone and unarmed. These things could be everywhere.

Besides , the word 'camp' sounded alluringly like other people. This past month, locked up in a bunker, had been terrible. The isolation and loneliness. Although she had found a good friend in Janet, she longed to see other faces and above all, smell fresh air.

She looked questioningly at Fraser. Her nod was almost imperceptibly. They would give this people a chance.

"Let's go." She said finally, and they followed the two men over the roof.

---

A/N:
*Afghanistan: I know that Carter served in the second Gulf War. But since this story is time-wise located in the Walking Dead Universe (taking place in 2010) and because I made her 30 years old she couldn't possibly have served in the Gulf War. So I had to change that detail and made her a veteran of the war in Afghanistan instead.

By the way, I'm not very happy with the first part of this chapter. Cater an Fraiser locked up in a bunker. Probably not very creative and a bit farfetched. But I absolutely loved the first episode of the Waling Dead (also called "Days gone by"). When Rick Grimes wakes up, after a long coma, totally disorientated into a world he no longer recognizes. It was a very powerful and compelling moment on the show and I wanted something similar for Sam and Janet and couldn't come up with something else.

So, I hope you still can enjoy reading this chapter. I would be great if some of you could write a review, whether you liked it or not.

So long, have a nice weekend.