As the sun began to set and the crowd of zombies downstairs started to dissipate, Phoebe and Ross slumped onto the couch together, both of them exhausted.

"I think we could write a novel with all the stuff we just came up with," Ross said. "That was... that was actually fun, Pheebs."

"Yeah, well, the fun never ends here in Zombie City," she said, then got up to head toward the door.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Out."

"What? Have you lost your mind?"

Phoebe paused, turning to look back at Ross

"Okay, poor choice of words," he said. "But seriously, after all that stuff you said before about it being safe in here, after getting confirmation just minutes ago that those things are still around, you're going to risk going out there?"

"Yeah, I am," Phoebe said. "What's your point?"

He put his arms down on either side of him to lift himself up from the couch. "I'm going with you."

"Ross, you need to stay here and rest," she said, her voice calm and even. "Plus, you'd just slow me down. I'm gonna look for Mike and see if I'm right about something."

"Something?" Ross repeated. "Something like what?"

"That's what I need to find out," she said, leaving it at that. Then she went out the door, closing it behind her before Ross could yell at her to come back.

He leaned against the leather seat, looking up at the ceiling and hoping that Phoebe, then Rachel and Emma, would come back to him safe and sound.

In Charlie's house, Rachel couldn't stop her skin from crawling at the thought of the oncoming zombies. On their way to the house, Charlie assured her that they were safe because none of the zombies she'd seen had ever gone into a home, even if they knew it was occupied. Apparently they liked to wait outside, since they had more room to move around and could catch stragglers that way. To Rachel, it seemed ridiculous – and a little unnerving – that the monsters were aware enough to have a preference, but after considering the alternative, she was glad to know that she, Charlie, and Emma would be safe, as long as they were indoors.

She chose not to think too much about the flipside of that rule: that all the survivors of the human race were being turned into prisoners inside their own homes.

After giving Emma a bottle of water and taking a breather in the kitchen, Rachel explained that she was on her way back to the West Village.

When she saw concern passing over Charlie's face, she felt even more alarmed.

"What?" she asked, and Charlie got up from the table.

"I was wondering what you were doing way out here," she said, leaving the kitchen. When she came back, Rachel saw that she was carrying a map of Long Island, and she spread it out on the table.

"See?" she said, pointing at the area of her residence. "We're all the way at the end."

Rachel could nothing but stare down at the map, inwardly wailing at her misplaced sense of direction.

While Charlie folded up the map, Rachel gave Emma a few of her books from the bag she had grabbed out of the car, then went back into the kitchen, where Charlie was sitting.

"You know," Charlie said as she tipped her own water bottle toward her, looking down at it. "I never would have thought in a million years I'd ever see you again."

"Yeah," Rachel said as she sat down across from Charlie. "Me too. Did you transfer to another school?"

"I got a really good offer out here, so I decided, why not? Especially since it got kind of awkward being around Ross after Benji and I got back together."

"Oh, that's right," Rachel said, remembering what Ross had told her and the others after announcing the break up. She noticed the ring on Charlie's left hand, and added, "You two got married?"

Charlie smiled a little. "About a year ago, in September."

"Congratulations," Rachel said, and really meant it.

"Thanks," Charlie said. "You too. Is it Joey, or Ross?"

Rachel gave her a puzzled look, then followed Charlie's gaze, down to the ring on her own hand. "Oh, right. It's, um, Ross."

Charlie didn't look the least bit perturbed. "I always wondered if you two would get back together, eventually. I guess it was only a matter of time, right?

"Yeah," Rachel said again, still staring at her hand and speaking as though she were far, far away. "I guess it was."

Charlie tilted her head to the side, fixing Rachel with a concerned look. "Did something happen to him, Rachel?"

"What?" Rachel said, meeting Charlie's eyes. "Oh, no. I hope not. I haven't seen him since the night before..."

"The Pulse?"

She blinked. "The what?"

"That's what I've been calling it," Charlie said with a shrug. "It seemed fitting."

"How come?"

"Well, there was the whole thing with the cell phones. I figured that maybe since —"

"— Wait," Rachel said. "You're saying the cell phones did all of this? How do you know?"

"I was running some errands when it happened, and saw about three teenagers, along with this other guy who wasn't with them, all act sort of strange while they were talking on their phones. They looked annoyed at first, but then they just… lost it, and it was total chaos after that."

Rachel thought back to the cell phone she'd seen lying forgotten on the floor, how uneasy she'd felt while passing by the devices and how that was why she'd decided not to pick any of them up to try using them. Turned out that Phoebe had been right all along.

"Benji went golfing that day," Charlie continued, shaking Rachel out of her memory. "He left his cell phone at home, but I haven't see him yet. I hope…" She drew in a deep, shuddering breath, resting the heels of her palms on the edge of the table. "I hope nothing's happened to him. Or Ross and Joey."

Rachel put out her hand, and placed it on top of Charlie's.

"They'll be fine," she said. "They are fine." She exhaled, leaning back in her chair. "To tell you the truth, It's me I'm more worried about. I have no idea how I'm going to make it home now."

"You'll manage," Charlie assured her. "Whenever I hung out with you guys, at the back of my mind I always thought, 'Man, that Rachel's kind of a bitch, but she knows how to take care of herself.'"

"Thanks," Rachel said, smiling at her. "I thought the same about you."

"Really?" Charlie asked, looking pleasantly surprised. "That's so nice!"

As the sun started to rise, when Ross was ready to try hobbling outside to track Phoebe down, she came in through his front door. He was angry with her at first, demanding to know why she'd taken so long and scared him half to death, but when she said, "I missed you too," he let his frustration with her subside. She put a heavy bag on his table, saying she didn't see any zombies – although she did run into a few people who were also scavenging – but she'd gone to the drugstore nearby and brought some things to treat Ross's injuries.

"I know this isn't going to make much sense, but they're playing music now," she said as she watched him put a brace on his ankle, then replace the bandage on his neck. "It's coming from the stadium."

"I knew I heard music," Ross said, relieved to get confirmation of that. "I thought I was losing it."

"Well, they already have," she said. "I mean, Ricky Martin? Really?"

They agreed to go out the next night, after Ross had healed some more, and got ready for bed. After looking at the tentative beams of sunlight through the cracks between his curtains, Ross reflected on how strange it was having to sleep during the day.

"I'm glad I was with you when the world ended," Phoebe said to him, shaking him out of his thoughts.

Ross looked at her, a trace of a smile tugging at his lips. "You are?"

"Well, no," she admitted after a moment. "I'd rather be with my husband. Or Joey. Or Rachel. But you'd have been my next choice after them. Ooh, no, definitely after Monica."

Ross couldn't believe it – was he really laughing? Was he actually finding humor out of this whole situation because of Phoebe?

"Thanks," he said, in a dry tone that made him feel a little more like himself. "You'd have been my fifth choice too, Pheebs."

She rolled her eyes. "As if. I lived on the street, remember? You wouldn't have lasted five minutes without me. I'm totally your second choice."

"Second?" He coughed. "Uh, what about Emma?"

"Well, since she came from Rachel, they both count as one."

"Good night - I mean, good day, Pheebs," he said, lying back down on his couch.

Rachel woke up on Charlie's couch in the late afternoon, rubbing her eyes and looking over at Charlie and Emma, who were both still sleeping. After taking a bottle of water from Charlie's ample supply in the kitchen, Rachel idly toyed with her engagement ring.

At night, before they had slept, Rachel told Charlie everything that was going on with Ross, everything she'd been so eager to shove to the side with her mother. They sat on the same couch, Emma using her mother's lap as a pillow as Rachel quietly talked and Charlie nodded and made polite sounds. Instead of telling Rachel what to do or trying to convince her that she and Ross still belonged together, Charlie listened, with much more patience than Rachel would have given her.

After Rachel was done, smoothing Emma's hair from her face as she slept, Charlie asked, "Do you still love him?"

"Yeah," Rachel had said. "But..." She trailed off as she looked down at her ring.

"That's a big 'but,'" Charlie said after Rachel hadn't said anything in a while, and when Rachel met her eyes, they both smiled a little.

"But," Rachel said, then tossed her head a little as she spoke, "the problem is, with Ross, I always end up not loving myself. Or us. I mean, when I started spending more time at work than at home, Ross thought I was having orgies with my co-workers. I argued with him in front of Emma about everything, all the time." She let out a humorless laugh. "No wonder we couldn't set the date!"

Charlie looked as if she didn't know what to say.

"There's something else," Rachel said slowly, hesitantly, until Charlie met her eyes. "I called Joey the night before The Pulse. And it took me a while to figure it out, but I... I think I know why I called him."

Charlie widened her eyes slightly, then shifted around on the couch.

"Go ahead, you can say it," Rachel said, awaiting Charlie's reaction as she wearily rubbed her eyelid. "Whatever it is, I deserve it."

To her surprise, Charlie said, "Are you sure? I'm not exactly in the best position to judge you, Rachel."

"Yeah, not so much," Rachel had agreed, feeling relieved all the same. When she laughed again, she really did feel amused. "God, just look at me! End of the world, and I'm having guy problems. What is my deal, anyway?"

"Nothing. It makes sense to fixate on what's normal when everything else in your life's been disrupted," Charlie said.

Rachel nodded. "Okay, I'll go with that. And y'know, thanks to you, I know what I want to do. Emma and I are going to make it back home, and when we do, I'm going to fix things with Ross, for good." She paused, then added, "As friends."

"I thought that might be the right decision," Charlie said. "I just didn't know if it was right for me to tell you what you should probably do."

"It's okay," Rachel had said as she looked down at her engagement ring. "I'm kinda glad you didn't. I think I had to work things out for myself."

Hours later, after getting some sleep and feeling closer to human than she'd had in a long time, Rachel stopped fiddling with her ring as she peered out Charlie's kitchen window. She took another sip of water from the window, and could almost feel the confidence rising deep within her. Just as her heavy burden of the last couple years had been lifted off her chest through her talk with Charlie, looking out her window gave Rachel hope that she could make it back home.

That she would make it back.

She heard someone stirring in the living room. Soon, Charlie walked into the kitchen as she yawned, greeting Rachel while she got some water. They had the last of her bread and peanut butter for breakfast - what would have originally been an early dinner - and agreed that they had to go into town, so Charlie could search for Benji and bullets, and so Rachel could get back to Manhattan.

They went outside an hour later, just as the sun was starting to set. Rachel held Emma's hand as Charlie led the way to Sandra's car.

As they neared it, Rachel gripped onto Charlie's arm, pulling them to a halt in the middle of the street.

"They're gone," she whispered, looking at the area around the BMW in horror. Except for the bloodstains on the car and pavement, there was no sign that any zombies had been around.

"It's worse than that," Charlie said, her mouth set in a thin line as she knelt down and examined the crimson marks that were leading all the way up toward the main road. "I think they're evolving."

"What?" Rachel said, lowering Emma to the ground.

Charlie looked at her, then stood up. "Not so they'll be completely human again. Actually, I think they're becoming more like —"

Before Rachel could comprehend what was happening, a formerly handsome-looking zombie wearing a polo vest and cleats came flying out from behind some trees next to the street, and he bit down on Charlie's arm.

Bosco...dictiasaur!

The thought suddenly popped into Rachel's head as she stepped in front of Emma.

Silent M!

She didn't know why she was suddenly having those strange thoughts, but she didn't care.

"Excuse me," Rachel snapped at him as Charlie tried to push him off of her with her free hand. "We are trying to have a conversation here!"

Then, without pausing to think, Rachel unlocked the car, wrenched the door open, felt around the foot well of the backseat, grabbed her pepper spray, and swung it around, squirting it straight into the zombie's eyes.

He groaned in protest, leaving deep bite marks on Charlie's arm as she crumpled to the pavement, but he got right back up again, flailing around. Rachel screamed, swiftly put Emma into her car seat, and closed the door just as the zombie in cleats blindly ran at her, swiping at the air.

Baby It's You!

"Not if I can help it," Rachel growled, then promptly kicked him right between his legs. He went down hard, and didn't look like he was going to get up anytime soon.

"Huh, good thing that's still effective," Rachel said, but she wasn't about to celebrate with Charlie writhing on the ground next to her attacker, and with what she heard were more sounds of oncoming zombies approaching.

Less than a minute later, she was tearing down the street in the BMW. She tossed Charlie one of her favorite sweaters to put around her arm and turned on her headlights as the sun finished setting.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Rachel asked, trying not to glance too much at the stain that was spreading through the sweater's fabric.

Charlie took a deep, shuddering breath before answering, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I don't know. I don't know if I even care anymore."

"Why?"

"Because you just pepper sprayed my husband."

"Noooooo," Rachel groaned.

"I'm afraid so."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Charlie."

"It's just as well that he got me before you took care of him," Charlie added sadly, lifting the sweater from her arm.

"What does that mean?"

"Rachel, we've both seen zombie movies."

"I haven't! I couldn't even make it twenty minutes into one of them."

"But you do know how this is going to go down, right?" Charlie asked, her voice sounding very thin and strained.

"Well, you... You never know!" Rachel said, although the panic was starting to rise in her again as she recalled the horrors of what she'd seen before making Joey stop the tape and put it in the freezer. "This could be different."

As they headed downtown, Charlie said, "Hey, I'm black and attractive. I'm surprised I lasted this long."

"You're not gonna die," Rachel said firmly. "I didn't finally get to bond with a woman other than Monica and Phoebe for nothing."

"Now can we go?" Ross asked, temporarily forgetting the chess game he and Phoebe had been playing.

"It's not nighttime yet. But if you want to go out now and get ripped to shreds, be my guest," Phoebe said, moving a chess piece at random on the board.

Ross frowned. "You don't even know how to play, do you?"

"I thought you knew that." Phoebe pushed back in her chair and rubbed her eyes.

"Don't worry about Mike, okay?" Ross said, his expression softening. "I'm sure he's fine."

"If he is, he would've come here by now," Phoebe said, exhaustion and irritation thick in her voice. "I looked everywhere for him last night. I stopped by the record store, the grocery store, our favorite sex shop..." She swallowed thickly. "I think he might be — "

"— He's not," Ross said, putting more confidence behind his words than he truly felt. "You're going to find him, and when this is all over, you'll live out your fairy tale dream. Right? Kids, a house near Monica and Chandler, and your Volvo."

Phoebe lowered her hand. "That was the plan. It was a pretty good one, too."

"Yeah, whatever happened with that?" Ross had never known because Phoebe never talked about it.

"I don't know. I guess it was just... He was getting a lot of gigs, and I was doing pretty well at that soulsucking corporate massage place."

"You were doing a lot better there than having random strangers come into your friends' apartments," Ross offered.

"Yeah, and it was, you know, comfortable. So comfortable that we just never decided to leave."

"I, uh, know the feeling," Ross said, leaving out the part about Rachel being the one who kept refusing to move to the suburbs.

"And we tried having kids," she said. "We really did. I don't know, maybe I used up all my good karma with the triplets. I love them and am so, so glad I could have them for Frank and Alice, but..." Phoebe paused as she began to worry at her lower lip. "What if this is it for me? Even if I do find Mike, what if we were just never cut out to have kids of our own, like Monica and Chandler?"

"Hey. Look at me. He will come here, okay? Or, who knows, we'll probably find him tonight." Catching the beginnings of a hopeful smile on Phoebe's face, Ross added, "And if he is dead, it's all good, 'cause I'm still your backup, right?"

"I thought we decided that Joey's my backup," she said, her smile growing.

"Yeah, well, he's not the one sitting here with you while the world is falling apart."

Phoebe's grin disappeared. "You really would repopulate the planet with me?"

"Hey, I don't know what it is, but making babies seems to be one of my strong suits. I don't know how, but one way or another, I can make it happen."

"So, why haven't you and Rachel had another kid yet?" Phoebe asked. "I mean, I thought by now you'd have at least another accident - I mean, a brother or sister for Emma by now."

Ross didn't know how to answer at first. The truth was, he did want to have another child with Rachel, but she had been so busy all the time, and didn't seem very interested in going through another pregnancy. In fact, every time Ross had brought up the idea with her, she'd always raised her eyebrows with a look on her face that said, 'Are you kidding me?'

He drew in a long breath. "I guess a big family wasn't in the cards for us, either."

"Well, like you said, if worst comes to worst, we could try cutting out the middlemen and have a kid of our own."

Something weird happened, then. Phoebe just kept looking at Ross with a different sort of expression on her face, like she was actually considering his offer. Even if it was just a joke.

Totally a joke.

"Uh, Pheebs?" he asked.

"Your move, Geller," she said. "Your move."

All he could do was stare right back at her, wondering if this is the part where he was supposed to —

"Seriously, it's your move," Phoebe said, pointing down at the chess board.

Ross shook his head. "Oh, sorry, I thought we stopped playing."

"If you call that 'playing,'" she said with a snort, eyeing his perfectly organized pieces.

As Rachel stopped the car in front of a hospital, Charlie tried to get out of the car herself, but Rachel held her back, telling her to save her energy. At first Rachel wondered whether she should leave Charlie and Emma so she could go inside the building, but she didn't have to, since the front door opened and three people from inside ran out to the car. One was a tall, hulking guy, another looked like a teenager, and the third was wearing a nurses's uniform, which sent a warm flood of relief through Rachel.

"You don't think she's gonna turn into one of... one of them, do you?" Rachel asked the nurse after she opened the door to look in on Charlie.

"I don't think she will," the teenager said gravely. "I know she will. So will you, and your little girl, too."

Rachel turned to look at the girl in horror.

"No," she whispered.

"Just kidding!" the teenager said with a laugh. "I was bitten by one of them about four days ago. If this was contagious, it would have taken effect by now. Oh man, you should see the look on your face!"

Rachel stared at the girl. "What's wrong with you?"

"Oh, right," she scoffed as the burly man lifted Charlie out of the car and carried her up up the steps. "Bunch of freaking cannibals running around these days, and you're acting like I've got issues."

Later, Rachel made sure that Charlie was all right when she was settled into one of the hospital beds. The nurse cleaned Charlie's wound and set up an IV for her that was connected to a bag of blood. For a while, Rachel dozed with Emma sitting on her lap in the seat adjacent to the bed, until Charlie opened her eyes and made a few murmuring sounds. At her stirring, Rachel stood up and gently settled Emma back in the chair, then stepped up to the bed.

Charlie peered at Rachel with unfocused eyes, and said, "Benji?"

"No," Rachel said. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"Oh. I thought..." Charlie shook her head. "Where am I?"

Rachel explained where she'd been taken, then said, "I found out some other stuff about our new friends. You won't be turning into one of them, they don't come out at night, and apparently, they like pop."

"Soda?"

"Music."

Charlie frowned, then shook her head in disbelief. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Yeah. Somebody said they camp out in huge, open areas like sports fields and blast pop music."

"So, they're... groupies?"

"Actually, they're more like cheerleaders," Rachel said. "I should know, I was one of 'em for four years. They're probably going through the same things I did, except, you know, less pyramids and bad sex. Maybe if they all start hooking up with each other, we won't have to worry about them anymore. Well," she added, "not until we have to start paying for college."

Charlie laughed a little until she clutched onto her arm, wincing.

"Okay, that's enough out of me." Rachel pulled the covers up further over Charlie, like she did for Emma when she tucked her into bed. "Get some rest."

"Thanks," Charlie said. "You're not staying, are you?"

"Sorry. I would, but I have to..." Rachel jerked her head toward the door.

"Get back home. Yeah."

"Get well soon, Charlie," Rachel said. "I'm sorry about your husband. And that I kicked him in the crotch."

Putting on a brave face, Charlie said, "It's just as well. Since Ross will be single again, I guess I know where to go when I'm all healed up."

Rachel smiled. "Right."

Before she went out the door, she turned around and looked at Charlie with a small smile.

"Call me?"

"Well," Charlie replied, looking completely serious, "as soon as civilization starts rebuilding itself and manages to recreate the phone networking system, which could take decades, for all we know..."

Rachel raised her eyebrows a little.

"... And I just got that you were being sarcastic."

"Bye, Charlie," Rachel said.

"Be safe."

After Rachel thanked the nurse and walked outside into the night with Emma's hand in hers, Emma asked, "Can we find Daddy now?"

"Yeah. We'll find him and your aunts, and Uncle Chandler. And someone else."

"Who?"

Rachel smiled as they started walking down the steps, anticipation and desire making her heart beat a little faster.

"You'll see."

Another shot ripped through a zombie, and it smacked down onto the pavement.

Joey had no time to celebrate, as nine more zombies were still on their feet and moving toward him in the middle of the suburban street, as the sun finished rising.

He sprinted down the street, but, as he'd said himself once, Tribbianis weren't known for being fast runners.

In retrospect, his idea to travel during the daytime didn't seem so great anymore.

Actually, it was pretty stupid.

His thoughts were jumbled up, flipping between memories of better days with his friends, snippets of what happened to him since the highway, and his current situation. Up to this point, he'd thought himself to be such a badass, so much more awesome at surviving than he'd given himself credit for.

In the moment, though, as his lungs burned for air, he knew where he'd rather be.

Right when he thought he was going to outpace them, he fell down near a parked car, gasping and letting Bethany slip out of his left hand, he remembered something he'd said to Rachel several years ago:

I'm a Tribbiani, Tribbianis quit.

Yeah. This wasn't so bad.

A part of him was yelling at himself to get back up, telling him that the others were all waiting for him to get back home and to stop being so damn lazy.

Despite that, he'd already begun to accept what was happening. What was about to happen. He thought he would make it to New York by now, but in the end, he should have known things would have turned out like this.

Joey Tribbiani had finally run out of luck.

He shut his eyes, waiting for the end. Time almost grinded down to a crawl then, so much so that the next few seconds magically – mercifully – dragged out into hours.

Within those seconds, Joey recounted all of the best moments in his life. He thought of his parents, grandparents, and all seven of his beautiful, loud, loving, vivacious sisters. He thought about Hugsy – Original, not Crappy, of course – and his friends' kids, whom he hoped would all survive to grow up in a future without pain or suffering. Or, at the very least, in a world in which all the zombies were finally wiped out.

Joey let his thoughts linger on his friends.

He remembered all the times he helped Monica cook - well, taste-testing her food as she cooked was more like it. How she spoon-fed him sometimes as she held his chin still. How he'd hugged her with one arm after she decided not to go through with the whole sperm donor thing, and how he'd known that someday, she would be one of the greatest moms in the world.

He remembered going to Knicks games with Ross, the times they hung out in Central Perk just talking about random things, the awesome naps they had together, and how they managed to be best friends despite their differences, and the fact that they loved the same woman.

Then, there came the memories of Phoebe: how she just got Joey all the time, and how she always tried to teach him new things, like playing the guitar, speaking French, and lying. He'd always been such a terrible student. Nevertheless, Pheebs went right on loving him and always being there for him, regardless of Joey's inability to grasp even the simplest concepts.

He remembered the good times he shared with Chandler, whom had been his lifeline for more than a decade. Joey recalled their countless foosball games, the times they just hung out in their matching Barcaloungers and watched TV, how they both took care of the chick and the duck, and how supportive Chandler was of Joey's career, never failing to lend him money that they both knew Chandler wouldn't ever see again. Joey remembered, with a smile, how they pushed past all the misunderstandings and fights they had, and remained best friends for years.

Lastly, Joey thought about Rachel.

Rachel...

He looked up at the sky, as bright and blue as her eyes, and the swarming flock of zombies slowly began to surround him.