A/N: Thanks to everyone who left kind reviews!
October 2, 2006
Sometime around six the next morning, long after the rain had dissipated, Ross dared to open up his curtains.
Outside, it was a wasteland. Wrecked cars were scattered on the streets, vendors were turned over, bicycles lay twisted and bent over on their sides, and soggy papers clogged up the gutters, leaving what looked to be an inch of rainwater flooding the neighborhood. Multicolored specks stood out here and there, floating along the pavement, proof of just how many cell phones had been in use around four o'clock the previous afternoon. Admist the aftermath of what had happened, Ross couldn't make out any movement of life.
It's almost like the whole place was cleaned out, he thought. This must mean they've all gone somewhere else, or died for good.
Then, at the end of the farthest road in Ross's line of sight, one zombie shambled into view, followed by another, and then another. Suddenly there were about thirty of them lumbering about, all of them dripping rainwater as they slogged down the street.
"Or not," Ross said, then wrenched the curtains shut again before hobbling back to his couch.
Monica and Chandler knelt together just below their kitchen window, their faces matching sets of horror and fascination. A zombie had plopped himself down in Monica's garden and was tearing up her perfectly organized patch of vegetables.
When the former man in coveralls ripped up something that looked like a turnip, roots and all, Monica shot up, wailing, "My rutabaga!"
Chandler yanked her back down. "What are you doing?" he hissed, glancing at the zombie to see if it had noticed her. It was, to his relief, still fully absorbed in chowing down on the bulb it held in its grimy hand.
She wrenched her arm out of his grasp. "You know how much time I've spent on my garden."
"Yes, I do," he said, "but are your vegetables really more important than our lives?"
She fell silent, looking, for a second, like she was seriously contemplating the answer, but she settled for crouching back down, peering out the window again.
"Man, I can't believe the nerve of these guys," she said. "First they're eating people left and right, and now they're going after our food!"
"I'd say that's a step in the right direction," Chandler said. "But we shouldn't be taking any chances."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
A surprised smile spread across Chandler's face. "Thank you!" Then the smile slid right off when he turned his attention back out the window. "This is beyond messed up. This is even worse than when I walked in on my dad with the butler. And the pool boy! And the —"
"— Got it!"
Another zombie ambled up to the garden and sat down next to the first one. Both of them helped themselves to a tomato each, the juice and seeds dribbling down their filthy, bloodstained chins.
Monica backed away from the window, though her movement was more controlled, and she stayed low to the ground.
"Okay," she said a couple times, hugging her sides as she and Chandler quietly went into their living room. "That's it. I, I can't take this anymore. We have to get out of here."
"What?"
"I'm telling you, we can stay here and wait for them to get tired of the garden and start busting down the doors, or go out there, kick some ass, and survive."
"What about the kids?"
Monica raised her eyebrows. "I was thinking we could take them with us. Or, y'know, leave 'em here. Whatever."
Chandler gave her his 'leave the sarcastic jokes to me' face. "Come on, Mon; they're two. What if we can't make it out there?"
"I think you're forgetting something," Monica said. "We've got me, and with me, we're gonna win."
"Win?" He could only gaze at her in mild shock. "This is a game to you?"
"We can make it one," Monica said, a devious glint coming into her eyes. "Ten points for every zombie we decapitate, three for the ones we run over with the Porsche."
"Okay..." Chandler chuckled until he noticed that the glint had not left Monica's eye. "You're scaring me."
Rolling her eyes, Monica started heading upstairs, with Chandler on her heels.
"Honey, you're not seriously suggesting that we —"
"— I'm not suggesting it; I'm saying it," Monica said, turning around sharply to face him. "Look, we can't stay in here forever. Who knows how long this thing's gonna last? Who knows if the army will ever show up like they do in the movies? I think we're kinda on our own here."
"And I think you're forgetting that in those movies, there's usually a group of hot, athletic young people running around with a very large amount of guns. We've got two toddlers, no weapons, and I haven't been to the gym in..." He counted the years with his fingers. "Well, pretty much ever, but my point stands: we are the perfect candidates to die once we go out there. Do you want to see your husband get dismembered?"
The corner of Monica's mouth turned up a little. "That's not gonna happen. See, nobody in this family is dying on my watch."
"All right," Chandler said, finally relenting. "I mean, I just drank the last Yoo Hoo about an hour ago, so we were gonna need to stock up on those, anyway."
Joey stood outside Derek and Shane's house and watched the sun rise, not seeing a single zombie. It was as if the world had been put on pause after dusk, as if the zombies had all gone somewhere else for naptime. That thought alone was bizarre, but, Joey figured, if this was the end of the world, all bets on logic were off.
He had no problem with that.
Which was why, after he'd caught a few hours' worth of sleep, he made a dozen sandwiches, ate a couple, packed a couple, then ate a couple more. He found a can of spray paint in the closet and remembered to mark highway signs for Derek, so he took that too.
He made his way into the garage, a bag slung over his back time and Derek's shotgun over his shoulder. Joey had left his bat propped against the wall in the foyer and unlocked the front door, knowing both signs would tell Derek and Shane that Joey had been there been there - that is, if the owners would ever return to their home.
Joey stopped when he got to the bottom of the steps in the garage as his eyes fell on a gleaming motorcycle. He didn't know much about them, but he knew how to drive one. It was another skill he'd had to learn soon after landing a part, only that time it was for a very minor role, and - yeah, Joey realized, he hadn't been acting, he'd just been a stunt double.
He went up to the bike and ran his hand along it, admiring the shiny metal, and noticed a helmet resting on the seat. When Joey looked in the helmet, he found two gloves, and, without pausing to think about what he was doing, he put the gear on. If Derek was willing to part with his shotgun, he probably wouldn't mind if Joey took his - or Shane's - bike.
Probably.
As Joey settled himself on the seat and admired himself in the rearview mirror, something suddenly occurred to him.
Things were working out a little too good for him. He was getting way too lucky.
Maybe, sooner or later, his luck would eventually run out.
When he looked at an old bookcase that was sitting right in front of him, he saw a key sitting on the lower shelf. Joey didn't know much, but he did know that the key belonged to the bike.
Luck, schmuck, he thought as he grabbed the key. Besides, might as well enjoy the ride back home.
"Since when do you know how to treat a sprained ankle?" Ross asked Phoebe as she finished bandaging up his ankle.
"Masseuses learn all about pressure points and how to deal with injuries," she said, then stood up. "I should make some tea while we still have running water. You've got tea, right?"
"Yeah, look in the kitchen cabinet next to the fridge. And hey, I can't even remember if I said this before, but thanks, Pheebs," Ross said as he looked up at her. "For everything. I always thought you'd be the death of me, but, well, turns out you are my rock."
"I thought that I'm your star," she said, tilting her head.
"Potato, potahto."
To her own surprise, Phoebe actually laughed at that, then went into the kitchen.
When she came back out later with two steaming mugs, she said, "What do you think happened to Gunther? I didn't see him in Central Perk when we were down there earlier. Do you think he's one of them now?"
Ross shrugged one shoulder. "If he made it, great. If not, too bad for him."
"It'd really be a crime against nature if he got turned into a zombie. Somebody that gorgeous becoming evil and gross?" Phoebe shuddered at the thought.
"Gunther's not exactly on my priority list of people to worry about," Ross admitted. "I mean, aside from the others, how do you think, uh, Frank and his family are holding up?"
Phoebe chewed on her lip before responding. "Actually, it's Alice I'm more worried about, but I think they'll manage. What about Carol, Susan and Ben?"
"They went up to Susan's cousin's house upstate. God, I wish I'd said more to Ben before he left. He must be terrified right now."
"They'll probably head here after laying low for a while," Phoebe assured him. "I mean, having an ass that won't quit isn't the only thing Carol's got going for her."
"I know," Ross said, then took a sip of his tea after blowing on it. He swallowed, then brightened a bit. "Hey, this is pretty good!"
"That's nice to know, because I gave it to you in March. Remember when you and Rachel said you'd try it out the next day? I found it way in the back of the cupboard, behind a bag of chips that expired six weeks ago."
"I knew Rachel was lying about throwing it away!" Ross said. When he noticed Phoebe looking at him, he added, "Don't know how your tea ended up there, though," before taking a long sip.
"Uh huh."
"So," he said hastily, "what about Ursula?"
Phoebe couldn't hold back the bite in her tone when she asked, "What about her?"
"It's just, I mean, you've got that whole..." He waved his free hand in the air. "Twin thing going on, so you should know if she's fine or not."
Phoebe scoffed at that. "I may be psychic and able to tell the future, Ross, but I don't have some sort of weird mental link with my sister." She didn't mention, however, the scattered dreams she had of Ursula earlier that morning: she'd been walking toward Phoebe with her arms stretched out, her flesh decaying, and saying happily, "You should try this out, you know. It's a lot more fun than you think!"
"Okay," Ross said, looking a little confused when Phoebe shuddered. "But don't you wanna try checking up on her before we leave the city? Could be worth a shot."
Tilting her head to one side and staving off another shudder, Phoebe considered his suggestion.
December 2003
When Ursula opened the door and found her sister standing out in the hall, she already seemed bored.
"Hi," Phoebe said, mustering up the courage to speak first. "So, look, I'm getting married next week." She raised her left hand to show off her ring, and couldn't contain her excitement. "Yay! And I thought you might like to come to the wedding. That is if, you know, you're not doing anything."
Ursula leaned against the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. She'd nodded along, listening to Phoebe, then said, "Yeah, I can't make it."
Though Phoebe knew she should have seen the rejection coming, her face fell. "Oh. Um, do you really have other plans that might be more important than this? Because, I mean, it's only the wedding of the century, and I actually wouldn't mind it if you came. So..."
Ursula unfolded her arms and pushed herself upright, an indecipherable expression on her face. For a moment, Phoebe wondered if —
"Look, um... Phoebe," Ursula said after struggling to remember her name. "I'm flattered, but I've really gotta get my teeth cleaned."
"Ursula," Phoebe said, on the brink of tearing up and hating herself for it. "It's my wedding."
"Okay, fine!" Ursula said impatiently, side-stepping the door. "I'll send you an X-Ray. Bye bye, now."
When the door slammed shut in Phoebe's face, she bit her lip and, for a second, she considered letting out all her years of pent-up fury on Ursula, yelling at her to go screw herself, but she realized that in the end, she wasn't worth it.
October 2006
"Yeah, that's not gonna happen," Phoebe said to Ross. "Ursula can, y'know, kinda drop dead, for all I care."
In their garage, Monica and Chandler got settled into the Porsche, after buckling in the kids. They went over their plan of going to see Monica's parents to the town north of them, ran through the checklist of things they had in the car, and intertwined their fingers above the gearshift.
"Ready?" Monica asked.
"Actually, I think we're good right here," Chandler said in a conversational tone, and Monica grinned.
"I love you," she said.
"Love you more."
She raised one eyebrow. "Honey? Just between you and me, I think that one's always gonna be a tie."
They both leaned forward and shared a long, slow kiss.
After separating, Monica announced, "All right, everyone, let's roll!" and pressed her foot on the gas pedal a few seconds after Chandler clicked the button that opened the garage door.
Rachel awoke with a start, her heart beating double time when she rolled over in bed and saw that her daughter was missing.
She ran around the house in a frenzy, calling out for Emma, desperate to find her without trying to draw any zombies to the house by screaming bloody murder. She was back in the bedroom, already shedding tears out of fear and worry, when she heard Emma laughing.
Rachel froze. It sounded like Emma was outside. It sounded like she was…
Rachel bolted up to the attic, and she let out a sob when she found Emma happily sitting on the roof.
"What are you doing?" she shrieked.
"Playing with the funny people," Emma explained, then put a finger to her lips. "Shh, they're sleeping!"
Rachel looked down, and gasped when she saw a couple of corpses lying twitching and groaning in a heap up against the outer wall of Sandra's house. A pile of red tiles and dust covered them.
Rachel looked back at Emma.
"You did all of that?" she asked, remembering to keep her voice lowered.
"Yup," Emma said, heaving another large, broken tile she'd been holding over the edge of the roof, like she was already bored with the game she'd been playing with her new monstrous friends.
Rachel opened her mouth as she stared at her daughter. She closed her mouth, then opened it again.
"Can I have cereal?" Emma asked.
After she found her voice again, Rachel said, "Yeah, why not."
As Monica pulled up to her parents' home, Chandler looked out the passenger window.
What seemed odder than everything else was that he'd noticed, on the way over, that there weren't any bodies – actual dead bodies – around. At first it had given him a bit of relief at being spared of what would have been sickening sights and smells, but at the same time, the thought of zombies dragging all the bodies away made him feel uneasy. He didn't quite know why yet, but he just knew he didn't like the thought of zombies cleaning up after themselves.
His thoughts about janitor zombies scattered when he realized Monica was talking.
"Okay, you've gotta make this fast. In and out in three minutes or less."
"Why do you look so worried?" he asked. "You know I'm capable of doing that, and only when the situation calls for it."
"Because in case you haven't noticed, there are still a bunch of those things roaming around out here! Okay, what if they come up to the car while you're gone?"
Chandler blanched at that. "I'll set a new record," he said, kissing Monica's cheek before jumping out of the car.
He ended up fulfilling his promise, making it back in less than a minute, but without Monica's parents. He looked at her hands when he got in the car. They were clenched so tightly around the wheel, he wondered how it hadn't snapped apart under her grip.
"Sorry," he offered, panting a little as he shut the passenger door behind himself. "Front door was unlocked, but no one's inside. I didn't see any bodies, though."
When Monica only seemed to get worse, he put his hand over one of hers, and added, "Don't worry. I'm sure they're all right."
"Oh, God," she said, breathing more rapidly as she rocked back and forth in her seat. "Maybe they were using their cell phones yesterday, maybe they —"
"— Monica, honey, listen to me," Chandler said quietly, and he exhaled in relief when she turned to face him. "Remember when your dad dropped his cell in the grill two months ago? And Judy's probably with him right now. See, her car's not there. They must be on their way to Manhattan."
"Manhattan?" Monica stilled her erratic movements. "Why wouldn't they go to our place first? We're closer!"
Sensing his chance, Chandler grabbed onto it, taking the hand he'd placed over Monica's and putting it on her arm. "Probably because they want to make sure their firstborn child is okay."
"Well, I'm just as important!" Monica said, but at least she wasn't shaking anymore. "I can't believe they would just skip over me like that!"
"See? So I think we should head over there, too."
"Y'know, Ross never was a medical marvel," Monica muttered. "Mom just told him that when he got second place in a spelling bee."
Erica started stirring at that point, and, after checking her with a quick glance, Chandler said, "Your dad didn't happen to keep a secret and very large stash of guns in his study, did he?"
"No," Monica said, still sulking a little. A second later, she perked up. "But Richard has a rifle in his. And he moved in two doors down, remember?"
Chandler's mouth twisted at that. "Yes, I remember because I keep an extremely close, detailed record of that man's every waking move."
"Always knew you had a thing for him," Monica said as she opened the door. "Start counting, because I'm gonna break your record now."
After Rachel fed her daughter, she figured out what she had to do.
Then she curled up with Emma on the couch in the living room, and read her a story. It was one of the books she'd found in her bedroom upstairs, and she read it in a low, soothing tone, savoring the calm before the inevitable storm.
October 2005
Rachel opened the bag of books Ross brought back from the store. She was less than thrilled with the collection of dinosaur stories she saw, and she threw him a disapproving look when she pulled out the third one, which didn't even look like a book.
"Seriously, Ross?" she said. The front had a simple drawing of a sad dinosaur, with a hastily scribbled title: "All My Friends Are Dead."
"It's an educational story!" he said as he raised his voice in defense.
Rachel raised her eyebrows.
"Or it's a rough draft a couple of my students are working on, and they kept pestering me to read it," he amended. "Come on, Rach, we could use it to help Emma understand the meaning of death. She's gonna have to find out about it sooner or later."
"Through a book?" Rachel hissed.
"Well, if you think that's a bad idea, we could always bring people in and murder them in front of her."
Rachel shook her head, resigning herself to keeping the book. She peered into the bag again, pulled out a couple more Pop Up books, then a large, regular one with a recognizable cover.
"Oh, the Places You'll Go!"
Something about the book reminded her of someone from a long, long time ago. She shelved the book along with the faded memory, but it kept cropping up throughout the rest of the day, and the next. Maybe her father had read it to her when she was a kid? No, Dr. Green never had time to read books to her, and Sandra never had any desire to do that, so the nanny always read to Rachel.
Maybe she had received it as a birthday present?
And then, as she settled into bed with Ross a few nights later, she remembered.
Joey had gotten the book for her, on the same night she'd gotten the pin and found out Ross was in love with her.
The next evening, after she got back from work, she read the story with Emma, and as she read, she thought about Paris.
Oh! The Places You'll Go...
"Mommy, more!"
She took a second to realize she'd trailed off in the middle of reading, and her daughter was looking up at her expectantly.
Rachel blinked her tears back and said, "Okay, honey. Where were we?"
October 2006
"Mommy, why'd you stop? What's wrong?"
Rachel switched her focus from the Dr. Seuss book to her daughter's concerned, big blue eyes. She sighed, ready to wave everything away with a lie, to put her little girl at ease.
When she opened her mouth, she said, "Well... probably the fact that my mom isn't here to make everything instantly better. Not to mention all the dead people walking around outside, and I don't even wanna think about the possibility that my friends, your aunts and uncles, might be out there, just like them. I have no clue what I'm doing, and I'm terrified of what could happen to us when we leave, but I know we have to." Rachel paused before continuing. "And then there's all the stuff that's been going on between me and your father, ever since... I miss him, Emma, I really do, but I think I - I think your dad and I both made a mistake. Another big mistake in a long, long list of 'em. So yeah, that's pretty much what's wrong."
When she was done with the tirade, with her emotional waterfall, Emma blinked a few times and said, "Huh?"
Rachel blinked right back at Emma. "Okay, let's give it another five to ten years."
Chandler had gotten in the driver's seat and moved the car down to Richard's house after a minute ticked by. He let out a sigh of relief when Monica finally emerged from the house with a rifle, then started shouting when a handful of zombies jumped out from behind the house and started running – no, they couldn't run, they couldn't – after her.
His shouts got louder, and the twins joined in when Monica slammed against the passenger seat's door, but instead of getting in, she whirled around, raised the rifle up to her shoulder, and took aim into the swiftly approaching crowd.
Chandler couldn't even understand what he was saying anymore, he was so rattled, and he was still yelling after four of the five zombies were sprawled out on the lawn in front of Richard's house. She opened the door and shut it behind herself, and he wouldn't stop shouting nonsense words until she reached over and turned the key in the ignition for him.
"Less yelling, more driving!" she hollered at him, which finally set him into motion. He managed to speed away before the last zombie could latch onto the back of the Porsche.
He made it a few blocks away before his nerves settled into place, and glanced at Monica while she was leaning toward the backseat, calming the twins.
"I didn't know you could use a gun."
"Thanks for joining us," she said.
"I could say the same for you. Look, what you did back there was probably the hottest thing I have ever seen, but do me a favor and never do it again."
"I wish I could say I won't, but sorry," Monica said as the twins' cries subsided and she twisted around to face the road. "Can't make any promises."
Chandler didn't know whether he was relieved or frustrated to hear her say that. He settled for changing the subject. "Getting back to the gun thing..."
"Well, for about a year while I was in college, I went to a shooting range whenever I felt really stressed out," Monica explained as she shifted the rifle around on her lap. "It was kinda my way of experimenting."
"Huh. Not exactly the kind of experimenting I always pictured, but definitely more helpful to us now."
"I know!"
"So," Chandler said, "I guess we're going back to The Village?"
"Yeah."
"No time like the end of the world for a reunion. You've got the safety on now, right?"
"Yeah." After a moment's pause, Monica added. "I don't want to freak you out again, but I'm gonna need to take it off."
"Your shirt? Why?"
"The safety, Chandler," she said in a very strained voice, and this time he found himself squeezing the wheel in a death grip, desperately wishing she'd been referring to her shirt.
"How many are behind us?" he asked.
"About ten and... Well, if I'm being generous, three quarters."
He shifted the gear in response. He was just about to say that he was getting used to this whole survival thing, when he saw, up ahead on the main road, a couple of wrecked cars that would be impossible to swerve around. There was a side street to the left just before the accident, and he had no choice but to take it.
"Don't use up all your ammo yet," he said, getting ready to make the turn. "Hang on!"
As he put all of his energy into his arm and swerved the car to the left, as he caught sight of the small army of shambling, bloody corpses that were gaining on the Porsche, Chandler thought, I wish you could see me now, Joe.
"I hope you're okay, Mom," Rachel murmured as she placed the Post-it note she'd written to Sandra on the front door. If her mother came back and found it, she'd know where to find Rachel.
Rachel had ended up waiting around and packing until dusk to leave, occasionally napping and peeking out the window when she was feeling brave. As the day had drawn to a close, she noticed less and less zombies groaning and stumbling about with each passing hour on the streets. When the sunlight began to dim, all movement outside had come to a halt. It was as if they'd all gone somewhere else.
The question niggling at the back of Rachel's mind was where they had gone, but she shoved it to the back of her mind, choosing to focus on getting herself Emma back to The Village.
"Next stop, home!" she said to Emma when they were both settled themselves in Sandra's car again, and, with a renewed sense of purpose, Rachel started driving.
Little did she know, it was in the wrong direction.
"You know," Ross said, flexing his foot under Phoebe's supervision, "when I was acting out on account of my rage, my psychiatrist gave me a pill to calm me down. Maybe we could do the same to the zombies."
Phoebe turned to look at him. "Oh, that's a great idea! Okay, you go outside, hold them down, and keep their mouths open long enough for me to drop a bunch of pills down their throats." Unlike how Chandler would have sounded, Phoebe was completely serious.
Ross snorted. "I didn't say we should do something that stupid."
"Then what?" Phoebe asked, her face scrunching in confusion. "Giving them a suppository would be twice as —"
"— No, I'm saying we could shoot them with it. Like tranquilizing a bear, or something."
"Ooh, or a giraffe! Not many people know this, but they could pose a huge threat to society."
Ross narrowed his eyes. "Right, because rampaging giraffes are what we really should be worrying about right now."
"Do you think we're ever gonna be able to recover from this?" she asked after a few seconds of silence went by. "And by 'we,' I don't just mean you and me."
"You seem to be handling this just fine," he pointed out as he simultaneously fought the urge to scratch the bandage over the area he'd been bitten. Thankfully, it wasn't infected, and he certainly had no urges to eat Phoebe or anyone, but his neck still itched like crazy. "I guess as long as we've got people like you around, humanity should be okay."
"That's true, I have been holding up considerably well under all this pressure." Phoebe tapped Ross's leg to signal him to stop flexing his foot, and he relaxed as she continued. "Chandler's the same way. After me, he's had the most screwed-up childhood out of all of us. He's probably having a blast right now, making jokes left and right about these things."
"Yeah," Ross said. "Poor Mon."
"Monica," Chandler said, filing away his next ten zombie jokes for the moment, "this is the third time we've been on this street. I think we're stuck."
She smacked one of her palms on the steering wheel in frustration. "We are not stuck! I just need to figure out another way to get out of this damn neighborhood."
"Okay, well, we can't stay in here forever. Sleeping in the car was fun for one... hour and a half last night, but we should start looking for a place to stay."
She shifted her gaze over to him as she slowed the car even more. "Are you saying we should break into someone's house and stay there?"
"Well, I was gonna suggest the Ritz, but that's probably somewhere past Carsapalooza."
"Fine," Monica said as she pulled over onto the side of the street next to a blue, two-story house. "I'll check if this one's empty."
"No, it's okay. I'll go look."
Monica unbuckled her seatbelt and rubbed her neck. "I thought we'd be in the city by now."
"Me too," Chandler said. "Don't worry, we'll get there soon.
"I hope," he added to himself as he began walking up to the house.
Rachel ran on dangerously low batteries as she made her way back to the city.
She was so tired that her level of fatigue had come all the way back around to anxious awareness and a buzzing kind of clarity.
Back when she had first brought Emma home from the hospital, she'd wondered if she would ever get a full night's sleep again. In her present state, she was wondering if she'd ever be able to get through five minutes' worth of absolute rest without snapping wide awake and checking on her child.
It would've already been slow going for her if she'd been by herself, but it was much, much slower with someone else to take care of. After driving for what felt like hours and having to constantly backtrack, Rachel pulled over next to a stand of trees. She dozed for a while, jerking her head up every now and then to stay alert for any loud, sudden movements. She wouldn't look at her entire face in the rearview mirrors because she was afraid she'd faint at seeing her own haunted reflection.
As she shivered and reluctantly turned on the heater, she shifted around in her seat. She missed Ross, but in a distant sort of way.
More than anything, she wanted Joey next to her, so he could put his arms around her and make her feel safe, make her laugh, and, above all else, make her forget, just for a moment, that any of this was happening.
"Hope you get here soon, Joe," she murmured to thin air. "And you better not be letting anyone, dead or alive, slow you down."
Still riding Derek's motorcycle, Joey eased up on the gas when he saw someone on the sidewalk in the middle of an otherwise eerily empty town, walking toward him as the sun went down behind him. He didn't want to stop, since he was already making such good time, but it had been more than a day since he'd had human contact, and when he drew closer to the person, he saw that it was an extremely attractive woman. She even smelled nice. At least the apocalypse hadn't wiped out all the hot people, which came as a relief to him.
He managed to come to a stop near the woman without toppling over, and put down the kickstand before turning off the engine.
The woman looked shocked for a second, then said, "Hey there, stranger."
"Hi," Joey said as he removed his helmet, "you happen to have someplace around here that has —"
The rest of his words died in his throat when he got a better look at the woman.
"Long time, no see," Kate said with a grin.