RandomMoonshadow - I hope so too, I think this upcoming event may be the big one...

itsi3 - More mouths is the last thing anyone needs. I agree fully.

delenadreamer16 - I love when Carol gets mad.

stargazr41 - Well, considering that Kravitz sees coming up for the camp, I'm sure he'd rather take a risk with these people who want out then leaving them trapped within the walls when things go sour. But I see your point.

Claire Randall Fraser - I'm not going to lie, I may try Ms. Hartwell's tactic if there ever comes a ZA. It is pretty clever...if it's in fact true.

Amberboo80 - I hope things work out well for Kravitz too, I'm getting a little attached to him.

..-~-..

..-~-..

Chapter Thirty-Six: Cold, Cold Heart

**Carol**

"What happens when you run low on supplies?"

They had been sitting in the supply tent for about two hours, Carol quietly stewing, but also keeping a close eye on the comings and goings.

Connolly for her part was filling out orders and taking orders while keeping Carol hidden from the CO's so that she could have the company.

"We get more," Connolly replied.

"From where?"

The soldier shrugged. "The Major-General usually brings back things from his travels."

Carol was quiet for another moment, not wanting to push the subject, but deciding she wanted to know everything she could about the crooked group they were trapped with.

She didn't hate all of them, but the mood she was in, she hated most of them. The senior officers mostly, the bastards who stood between her and her family back home.

"Where is the Major-General?" She asked. "I haven't seen him in a while."

"He headed out," she said. "They do that a lot."

Moving towards her, Connolly flopped down on the crate beside Carol and looked at her studiously for a moment, her beautiful almost topaz eyes alight with play. "You seem down today, girl." She said nudging her with her elbow. "What's wrong?"

Carol shook her head. She couldn't trust anyone. Not after Devlin pulled her and the Lieutenant in for questioning.

Connolly looked off, watching a few troops as they moved past the open tent flaps. "What's it like out there now?"

When Carol didn't say anything, Connolly went on.

"I haven't been outside these walls since it all went down. Is it bad?"

Carol nodded.

"My family's probably gone," Connolly continued gently. "I have no real hope for them surviving, but sometimes I pray. Are you religious, Carol?"

"Not so much anymore," she replied.

"I was born and raised in Meridian, Mississippi," Connolly announced almost proudly. "My parents raised me Baptist, we were always going down to the river to wash away our sins. Used to sit in the third row in the hot little church and the choir there used to sing a praise song, they'd sing 'I'm Not Tired Yet'." The woman shrugged. "Sometimes I wake up with that song in my head."

Carol licked her bottom lip. "My group has a nun, well she's a Mother Superior, actually and she used to think the rapture came and God raised all the pious, righteous souls to heaven. That those of us left here are the sinners. Sometimes I find myself thinking the same thing."

Connolly smiled wistfully. "Must be Catholic."

"Yes."

The conversation halted as Major Devlin ducked into the tent. He blinked for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the darkness from outside, before he beamed at Carol, all but ignoring Connolly.

"Mrs. Vancoughnett," he oozed his fork tongued charm.

Carol wanted nothing more than to rip that tongue from his mouth and shove it up his ass still wriggling.

"I've been looking all over for you," he went on, motioning with his head for her to accompany him.

She remained sitting beside Connolly. "No muscle with you this time?" She demanded.

He chuckled. "Not today. This little tête–à–tête will be at my pleasure."

"It won't be at mine," she murmured bitterly, refusing to get up and cooperate with him.

Devlin's eyes flashed to Connolly, before his grin widened. "Come on, Mrs. Vancoughnett, I'd love to apologize for our misunderstanding."

"I'd love to do a few things to you over this misunderstanding," she returned coolly.

"Well now, then there, Mrs. Vancoughnett," he bounced jovially backwards a little. "Come with me and give me a few examples. I'm sure we'll both enjoy it."

Carol calmly crossed her legs and remained firmly sitting.

"Okay," Devlin replied. "I'll just return with some muscle."

She blinked at him calmly.

Ducking his head, Devlin waited for a moment expectantly, before nodding. "Alright," he said, before slinking out of the tent like the weasel he was.

Connolly was quiet, her eyes on the doorway, before she turned to Carol. "Was that nerd bothering you?"

Carol smiled. "No more than a gnat buzzing in my ear. What do you know of Devlin?"

"Nothing, I know of him and that's it. He seems like a snake."

..-~-..

..-~-..

Back in her cubbyhole, she was expressing her milk quickly, every drop that she dumped into an old mop bucket was a heavy, dark reminder of every drop her baby wasn't going to be fed.

Tonight, she decided. Come hell or high water she'd get them out. To hell with Kravitz and Devlin, to hell with that Major-General bastard and all the other soldiers who stood in her way.

She'd need a weapon at least. A gun if she could find one, but she'd take a knife at this point. Something.

The door opened and the Lieutenant entered, closing it behind him before he took note of her activity.

"Oh, sorry, ange." He said, turning his back politely.

"That's fine," she said, finishing up.

"You're getting home tonight," he said.

Carol nodded. "I know."

"Oh, you spoke with Kravitz?"

"What?"

Tentatively peering over his shoulder to ensure he was safe to look, he turned around to smile at her. "Colonel Kravitz, he's going to distract the guards and you'll be slipping out then with his family."

"What?" She repeated. "Why?"

"Well, I can only assume it's because he thinks this place may be a little dangerous in a few days coming up here, so he wants them protected elsewhere—"

"No, why is he helping us? He said he couldn't."

The Lieutenant shrugged. "Change of heart?"

"No," Carol insisted. "I don't trust him."

"I think, ange, if he's willing to stick his family in our hands, he's probably giving us a fair deal of trust to begin with. I'd take the offer," the Lieutenant stated. "You might not get a better."

She was quiet, taking the bucket from the room and down the hall to the washroom there to dump it. When she returned, she had made her decision.

"No." She insisted. "I don't trust him or any of them."

The Lieutenant was still, before his brow darkened a little. "Carol," he began in a tone that was too serious for him. "You have a baby girl at home, whether you trust the Colonel or not, just go. I'll worry about whatever might trail you."

Something struck her as odd and she turned on him. "You're not coming with me, are you?"

The man shrugged. "No."

"But Grace—" she began in a mild fury.

He laughed. "I will be going home, darling. I'm just not going with you. Something's rotten here, I can feel it. I'm going to stay and help them sort things out here."

"You're not a goddamn super hero, Lieutenant." She said.

Again he shrugged. "I'm not the type to run either. You have to go, you have a baby girl now, I—"

"—have a son and two little girls and a wife?" She broke in coolly. "You can't always run to the rescue."

He grinned smugly, which infuriated her and she took a small step towards him, brow lowered.

"You will be coming with me," she insisted. "Whether I have to frog march your ass home."

Peering down at her, the Lieutenant said, "you're a little shrimpy to be making that kind of threat, ange."

She glowered up at him. "I'm not kidding."

"I know you're not," he returned, still grinning.

Carol poked his chest with her pointer finger, "you're coming with me!"

"Ooh-ye-yi! Girl, that tiny finger is like a blunt dagger," he exclaimed.

She poked him again and he backed up a little, holding an arm to his assaulted chest. "Ow, come on!"

Again and again she poked him, until she had him backed into the corner at the end of their bunk laughing and shielding himself.

"Okay, alright!" He shouted, catching her hand gently and stopping her. Something she noticed, he could have done at any time. "Fine, I'll be right behind you when we go."

"In front," she insisted with a small, triumphant grin as she backed away from him and turned to the small desk-like table to sit on it. A little lighthearted about going home, still worried about allowing it to be under the Colonel's plan.

Stepping out from the corner, Lafayette rubbed at his chest and frowned. "You can be a mean little kitten when you want."

"I want to get us both home safely," she insisted. "But are you sure we can trust the Colonel? What if his family doesn't show and he just said that to trick us?"

"Carol, you trusted him first, remember?"

She did. But Devlin reminded her that they couldn't really trust anyone.

"I just want to be cautious is all."

"I think of anyone here, Kravitz is our best bet. He wasn't in the service when this hit, you know?"

"Really?"

"The boys in the supply closet were telling me, he taught English in high school, only did one tour overseas, come home and took his papers and walked. Only Colonel I ever knew who gets his hands dirty with his men." The Lieutenant eased down beside her on the desk. "I think he's only here because he has nowhere else for his family to be safe."

"The curse of the family man," Carol murmured.

At her side, Lafayette chuckled. "So it seems."

"Shouldn't you be on duty?" She asked suddenly.

He chuckled again. "Yeah, but if we're leaving what does it matter?" He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "I should confess something, ange."

"What?" She whispered back.

"I wasn't a very good marine."

She gave him a mildly amused look, before changing the subject. "We'll need some weapons."

"I gotta find my Marie," the Lieutenant murmured. "Never leave a man behind. I'll see what I can scrounge up before nightfall, you worry about supplies we'll need for the long road home. Food and water, whatever you can find."

Carol nodded. "I can get us everything, I think. Even your rifle." At the Lieutenant's raised eyebrows, she smiled. "I have connections."

"Alright, you're in charge. Just tell me where to be and how to get there."

"Just be your pretty little self," she teased.

He preened a little for her benefit.

"I'll be right back," she stated, heading for the door.

..-~-..

..-~-..

"Colonel Kravitz!" She shouted.

Carol had searched everywhere for him, only to find him overseeing the unloading of a truck of supplies, head bent to his clipboard.

"Mrs. Vancoughnett," he returned calmly.

"Can I have word?" She asked as she drew closer to him.

He looked at her, then over at his shipment, before nodding curtly and leading her a little ways from the other men.

"What can I do for you?" He asked politely.

"I'm sorry if I seemed rude to you earlier, I just spoke with my husband." She said, eyes on the men who seemed a good distance away, but still too close for her liking.

"I understand," he replied, the double meaning in his small nod.

Taking his pen from him, she flipped the papers on his clipboard to the very back page and scratched out. Our belongings we came in with?

"I wanted to thank you for being so kind to us," she spoke as she scribbled the words.

He glanced at her message, before inhaling deeply. "It's my job, Mrs. Vancoughnett. I try to ensure the comfort of all our troops and their families."

Connolly's tent in one hour. He scratched back.

"If there's anything else I can assist you with, please let me know," he went on.

Carol nodded. "Thank you, Colonel."

She took his hand as she handed his pen back, sandwiching it between hers and looked him in the eye, not only to seem sincere, but to brush away any lingering suspicions she might have about him.

He smiled a crooked, boyish smile at her.

..-~-..

..-~-..

"I miss just sitting under a damned tree," Connolly said with a heavy sigh. "Without worrying about getting chewed on."

Carol figured she'd wait that hour with Connolly, sitting once more with the woman as she whiled away her hours in the supply tent.

"At one time I wanted to actually study Botany, I had a fascination with growing things. I thought it'd be real nice to just grow plants and have a greenhouse. You know, like flowers and roses."

"That sounds nice," Carol said. "You might be able to do it someday. I'm sure there's going to be a need for plant study still."

Connolly laughed. "Oh, come on, Carol. Let's face it, a gun is far more important than a petunia these days."

A figure blocked out the sun that was shining through the open tent flap and Carol stood up, expecting it to be the Colonel.

Instead, a weary, tired looking Major-General stood there.

"Major-General!" Connolly exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "You're back!"

"Yes," the man simply replied.

"We weren't expecting you back so soon," Connolly went on as she moved to help him fill out a requisition form.

"I wasn't expecting to find you shirking your duty," he returned, eyeing Carol. His gaze wasn't hostile or studious, but his eyes almost twinkled with amusement.

She wondered if his return would throw a wrench into their gears.

"What's it like out there, Major-General?" Carol asked, hoping to gauge his mood.

"Cloudy with a chance of being torn apart by an undead horde," he shot back easily, handing his form back to Connolly after signing it. "How have you been, Mrs. Vancoughnett?" He inquired, moving to stand just before her.

She looked all the way up, over his chest to his face and realized in that moment just how small she was. "Things are going well," she said.

"Are they?" He inquired.

Why did every word out of his mouth ring suspicious? It was like he was in an old time spy movie where no one was to be trusted and everyone was a suspect.

"Yes," she replied.

Smiling only a little slyly, the Major-General, flashed a quick glance at Connolly, before casting his gaze back down at Carol. "You ladies have a good day," he said easily, before leaving the tent.

"That man is so hot," Connolly gushed a little. "I mean normally I'm not all about tall, dark and mysterious but…oh shit, I'm all about that."

Carol smiled a little and sat back down with Connolly.

"What did you do before all this?" Connolly asked as they returned to their previous topic.

"Housewife," she said.

"Nothing wrong with that, hardest unpaid work in the world today." Connolly laughed a little nervously. "Never wanted kids myself, ugh."

"That's okay too," Carol replied.

Another form filed the light coming through the tent flap and again Carol stood up, this time as the figure stepped inside, she was greeted with a petite, strawberry blonde.

"Joan!" Connolly exclaimed. "What's new, girl?"

"Requisition form from the General," the woman chirped, green eyes flashing in Carol's direction as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Oh, sorry, Carol Vancoughnett, this is Joan Hartwell, Joan is next to God around here," Connolly said as she moved to file the order form.

"Well, as close as one can get these days," Joan replied with a gentle roll of her eyes. "You know the General, always super busy."

Carol smiled easily at the woman.