The Climb: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series
Date: 2019-12-31 00:48:04+00:00
Description: Skye and Dylan face their largest threats yet... Cole's Mountain is no longer the refuge it first was. Battles are fought as Skye and Dylan struggle to keep their home ground safe. Calvin and his gang hunt Skye's family hoping to destroy them as they have so many others. Each excursion becomes riskier as danger lurks around every curve of the mountain making life even harder in this new dark world. Tensions rise in the little cabin as Skye and Dylan face their emotions. Their history and fears hindering efforts to bond their family together. With fall coming, Skye wants nothing more than to pu
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services LLC - Kdp Print Us

The Climb

Sanctuary’s Aggression 3

Maira Dawn

Contents

Also by Maira Dawn

1. Calvin

2. Close

3. Home

4. Promise Me

5. Weston

6. Get This Done

7. Flash Bang

8. Getting Home

9. Quarantine

10. A Fine Idea

11. The Picnic

12. Reach

13. Promises

14. Something About That Woman

15. Womanly Attention

16. No Sense in Freezing

17. Ain’t Any Good

18. Burdens

19. Words

20. Crazy Out of his Mind

21. A Different Man

22. Salvation

23. Family

24. Tomorrow It Is

25. If You Stay

26. A Chance

27. One Piece

28. Close

29. Deserted

30. Headlines

31. My Boy

32. Hope

33. White Coats

34. The Bad Guys

35. I Will If I Have To

36. Defeat

37. The Only Thing

38. Skye

39. Fix Her

40. The End of Me

41. The Beginning of Them

About the Author

Copyright © 2019 Maira Dawn

All rights reserved.

ISBN: B07RTSLYPH

ISBN-13:

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and a resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

Also by Maira Dawn

Sanctuary’s Aggression

The Road: Sanctuary’s Aggression 2

The Climb: Sanctuary’s Aggression 3

The Girl: A Sanctuary’s Aggression Novelette

* * *

VISIT MAIRA DAWN

Stay up to date with new releases and more!

www.mairadawn.com
https://www.facebook.com/mairadawn.writer/

For Trent.

The light of my life.

My Jesse.

1

Calvin

Calvin, Tony, and Pete drove along at a leisurely pace. Calvin's hands kneaded the steering wheel as he stared at the road in front of him. The rays of the autumn sun overheated the men, so he rolled down the windows. The wind ruffled their hair as they traveled the highway.

Tony sat in the back seat, his bad leg stretched out, healing from the wound Jesse gave him. Calvin had managed to patch it up, but he was no medic. Everyone knew it wasn't good enough. Calvin caught Tony's fierce expression in the rearview mirror. Revenge boiled in Tony. His leg would never heal right, and he'd limp for the rest of his life. A blind man could tell that if Tony ever got hold of that kid, he would be happy if a limp was all Tony gave him.

Pete kept his eyes on the side window refusing to look at his friends. The back of his bloody head and a red blush on the top of his ears was all they could see. Pete couldn't get over being taken down by a girl.

No one ever beat Pete. His whole life he had been the largest, strongest kid, and now he was a massive man. A little slow maybe, even he would admit that, but he believed his size more than made up for that. Now he'd been beaten by a woman. Not even a big one either. A kinda small one, at least from his point of view. It stung. All that little girl did was push on a car and down he went.

Calvin whistled as they drove on, confident they would find the woman and the kid. At first, he'd been angry, but there was no reason for that now, it'd just get in the way. When a person was furious, they didn't think straight. Strong emotion had messed him up more than once.

And anyway, there was no doubt they would find them. Calvin knew it from the moment they pulled away from the side of the road. Both the Jeep and the truck's license plate contained their county name, and it wasn't like there were many towns in such a small area. If he and the boys needed to go town by town, they'd track them down.

A sky-blue Jeep and that huge black truck would be remembered by someone. They'd find them, it was just a matter of time.

And time was different now. With no TV or computers, no work or families, it was all they had left. The trick was filling it, and Calvin was very good at doing that.

2

Close

Skye relaxed into the seat of Dylan's new truck and scanned the landscape they passed hoping they would never see Frankie again. This time was a surprise, and it was one too many. Though pushing his car over the side of the mountain seemed extreme, perhaps Frankie would now understand he couldn’t take Jesse from them.

Dylan quietly cursed and straightened in his seat. Skye glanced from Dylan to where he stared through the front windshield, but she saw nothing.

Dylan stopped the truck, letting it idle. His hands gripped the steering wheel as he looked from the forest to Wade. Clearly, what they saw unnerved them.

So as not to disturb a sleeping Jesse, Dylan spoke softly as he waved Skye closer to him. “Some Sick just walked through those trees."

Skye's hands tightened on the back of Dylan's seat, and her stomach turned. "Just when we're almost safe at home."

"That's the thing, they're so close to the cabin. We gotta check this out."

Skye's eyes widened." What? No. It's too dangerous. Remember last time?"

"I do, but I also know we can't have Sick wandering around in our back yard. We gotta see what's goin on."

"Them? How many were there?" Skye's voice rose with her anxiety.

"A few, and we need to know how many. We can't have Sick or Infected comin up on us unawares."

Skye closed her eyes. Dylan was right. To have any amount of Sick roaming the woods was risky, but to have Dylan and Wade out scouting them was dangerous too.

"You'll be okay," Dylan said. "Wade will stay here with you and the boy."

Skye shook her head." You can't go by yourself, you need someone with you." She wound up her courage. "I'll go."

Dylan opened his mouth to object, but before he could, Skye pulled one of his own moves on him and said, "Are we going to go, or are we going to sit here and argue about this?"

Dylan raised an eyebrow at her. "Skye."

"I'll be quiet, you know I can. I'll follow all your hundreds of forest instructions to the best of my ability. You need someone else out there, someone to have your back. "

Dylan hesitated, and Wade cleared his throat. "Far be it from me to get mixed up in whatever you have going on here, but bro, I'd rather see you have someone too. I should be here in case they circle back." Wade tipped his head at Skye. "Can she run?"

"Oh yeah, she can run," Dylan said with a twinge of pride in his voice.

"Okay, then. Stay back from them. She'll be fine."

Dylan waved Skye out of the truck then reminded her of his most crucial rules. Skye dutifully bowed her head to each of them. When Dylan finished, he gave her a hard stare assessing her forest worthiness. When Skye could take no more, she pushed his arm to get him to turn around and get started.

He resisted for a minute before reaching back into the truck for a couple of rifles. He handed one to Skye, and she grimaced.

"Take it or you ain't comin."

"I know." Skye paused before slinging it over her shoulder. Bashing two men still haunted her. She certainly didn't want the added violence of shooting one.

Dylan started for the tree line along the road and broke through the brush, holding back a branch for Skye. He easily followed the trail left by the Sick. It was plain enough even Skye could see it. Leaves and dirt had been kicked up on the Sick's way through. Either they didn't care or were not aware of what they were doing.

As Dylan pointed out signs of the people they trailed, a frown drew his eyebrows. "These aren't the only ones out here."

Skye shivered. "What? There's more than the ones you saw?"

Dylan nodded. "See." He pointed out more broken twigs and overturned fallen leaves in one, two, then three places.

Skye's glance darted around the trees. "Why would they be here?”

Dylan shrugged. "That's what we're here to find out."

Skye wrapped her arms around herself and quickly looked at the ground sternly reminding herself that this was all part of learning how to survive. It didn't make her feel any less scared.

"Stay close," Dylan said so quietly she wasn't sure if she'd heard it or just saw his lips move, but she nodded and tightened her arms. You better believe it, buddy. So close.

Dylan put a finger to her chin and raised her head. "It's okay," he mouthed and turned to start his slow trek forward.

Skye silently scoffed. I hate to tell you this mister, but it is most certainly not okay. Nothing has been okay for a while now.

Skye matched her steps to Dylan's as he'd taught her to do, avoiding anything that crunched under their feet. Dylan continually scanned the ground and the surrounding woods as he walked searching for any clues as to what lay ahead of them.

Dylan knew his craft well. His skill was evident in every move he made, from the careful way he stepped his way through the ground cover to his ability to pick out almost microscopic traces of who or what was around them.

Skye studied him as he squatted down to peer closer to something she still couldn't see. His brow creased as he examined and felt the ground around it. She watched his muscles play along his arm and back as he reached out to explore the ground then push himself upright again.

His hair is to his shoulders now. I wonder if he would like a haircut. And those shoulders... and that…. Skye allowed her eyes to drift before she cut herself short. Stop! Why do I always start this at the worse times? But she knew why. Because when she saw Dylan in his element, he made her feel safe. And safe could be very, very sexy.

Dylan turned around and lifted an eyebrow at her.

Oh please, don't do that. That is just too -- distracting. Skye blushed and tried to look innocent before looking away. Dylan hissed, and Skye snapped to attention. He gestured fingers to eyes and outward.

Keep my eyes on the woods. I know, I know. Don't you be so enticing then. Skye turned another shade of red and nodded.

Seeing she was suitably contrite, Dylan continued on. This time Skye looked at everything but him, even pointing out a small broken branch and a bit of trampled grass, which earned her a look of approval.

* * *

Dylan's scouting gave him none of the answers he'd hoped for, only more questions. Were all the Sick ahead of them or were they stepping into the middle of a horde? They seemed to be ahead, but why? Why were such a large group here on top of their mountain? It would've been against their instinct to make such a hard climb. Those not in the full grip of the disease, the Infected, must be pushing them up here. But again, why?

Dylan shook out his tense shoulders hoping for once in his life, he was reading the signs all wrong. He shot a look at Skye. She'd done pretty good so far, but this could really rile her up.

A small sound came to him. Nothing Dylan could instantly identify but something foreign to the forest. He stopped abruptly and put his hand back to Skye in a protective gesture. It caught her around the arm, and she held it as Dylan slid his hand to her wrist. He pulled her down to crouch alongside him and put a finger to his lips.

Skye quickly agreed, her large eyes turning away from him. Her attention honed on the scene around them. Before letting go of her wrist, Dylan gave it a small stroke with his callused thumb. Dylan smirked when goosebumps raced up Skye's arm. You ain't the only one.

Dylan motioned for Skye to follow his example as he crept through the forest brush as low as he could. Branches scratched along their bare arms, and the briars picked at their clothing.

Dylan tipped his head. There was something. A murmur maybe but that seemed wrong.

Dylan motioned Skye to the ground, and laying flat as they could, they crawled the rest of the way. The sound grew louder. Dylan pulled back a layer of brush and grasses leaving a thin layer to look through.

A house sat in a small glen. At least thirty Sick surrounded the small cabin. Many stumbled aimlessly through the yard, others mindlessly followed them. It would have been odd enough to come across that many Sick gathered in one place up here on the mountain, but the scene continued to get more bizarre.

More were in the early stages of the disease and barely seemed ill at all. Those worked at chores one would expect of any homeowner, chopping wood, plucking vegetables, cleaning.

A large crack sounded from the opposite side of the forest from where Dylan and Skye were. It could have been the felling of a tree or simply a broken branch falling. The worst of the Sick stopped their aimless wandering and stared in that direction, their murmur becoming a loud rumble of discontent. Agitated, the sickest among them paced the best they were able with their stiff limbs. Some raised and lowered their arms in odd patterns.

Some of the healthier people grabbed what weapons they could, mostly gardening utensils, and stood watching the tree line while others tried to calm the Sick.

A thin cold finger played along Dylan's back as he scoured the area. These people weren't passing through. They were gathering.

3

Home

Skye heaved a sigh of relief when the cabin door clicked shut behind her. Walking to the windows, she made sure they were locked before pulling all the curtains. Skye needed to forget about all the bad things outside even if only a thin piece of material kept them from her sight. The dread covering her since she and Dylan spotted the large group of Sick and Infected lifted slightly.

Nothing would erase the fact the Sick were out there no matter how many barriers she put between them and her. But for some reason, the darkened room made her feel better. Her heartbeat thumped a little less, and she pushed away the worry that there are so many of them practically on their doorstep.

After watching the Sick for a few minutes, she and Dylan had made their quiet way back to the truck. Dylan was quick to assure her the problem would be dealt with, but how she couldn't begin to imagine. Her immediate notion was to leave the cabin, as she had left her own home. But Skye couldn't see Dylan and Wade going along with that unless things got desperate.

Jesse had been awake and full of questions when they returned to the truck. Skye answered them the best she could without frightening him but doubted her strategy when instead of being scared he was excited about the idea of seeing one of the Sick.

Skye slumped back against the wall and watched Wade and Dylan set up the radio Tom had given them. The first thing they did was use it to reach Tom. Skye moved to stand behind the seated men as Jesse begged to use the radio too.

Dylan gave Jesse a sharp glance. "You'll get your turn. Right now, it's serious." Jesse sagged. Dylan ruffled his hair but held his ground.

Chipper at first, Tom got quiet as he digested the events on their return to the mountain.

"We got a couple problems," Dylan said. "The person outside your house followed us on up the mountain. We took care of him for now, but he's somewhere out there. It was the man you said you were going to check on. Thought you should know that."

"Okay, gotcha," Tom said, figuring rightly that Dylan's code meant Frankie and was for Jesse's sake. "How you doin Jesse?"

Jesse was as excited as a small puppy to have his turn and wanted to use the headset. Gingerly, he sat it on his head and held the sides to his ears as he spoke. Happy after exchanging a few words with Tom, he returned it to Dylan.

After Dylan explained the horde of Sick and Infected gathering on the mountain, Tom said, "I'll get some of the men together, and we'll be up there tomorrow morning. We'll clear them out."

Dylan agreed and said goodbye. But, not having answers didn't sit well with Skye. "How are you going to get them to go down the mountain? They aren't just going to go down the hill in an obedient single file."

Dylan chuckled and ran a hand over her shoulder. "Yeah, I know. We'll figure it out tomorrow. See what Tom has in mind."

Skye gave up getting answers and used her nervous energy to unpack. However, it didn't escape her notice that when the men completed their other chores, they started putting their weapons in good order. She knew they needed to prepare, but hoped at least some of the Infected could be talked down off the mountain. Surely those capable of it would realize they were a danger to others as their condition worsened. She hoped to get a chance to run it past Tom.

When he was done, Wade holstered one of his guns and put the others on a high shelf. He put his hands on his hips and turned to them. "I think I'm going to head on over to that farm Tricia suggested for some chickens, D, like we talked about. I have the makings for a pen. The neighbors are gettin thin on eggs to trade and ain't wantin to part with any chickens. I say it's about time we got our own."

"Wade! Really? Now?" Skye asked. "What if they come after you?"

"Chickens? Oh, I can handle 'em! I'm quite skilled in chicken warfare." Wade shook trying to control his laughter.

Skye crossed her arms and pursed her mouth as she stared at him. "You know what I mean."

"Don't worry, little lady. They ain't gonna come after me. From what you said the Sick and Infected are up here cause they want to be left alone. They ain't gonna start trouble."

Skye started to disagree but found herself arguing to his back as he walked out the door. Her eyebrows raised, she turned to Dylan. "Your brother!"

Dylan shrugged and continued cleaning his gun. "Wade knows what he's doing."

Skye let out an irritated groan and went to the kitchen to find something, anything to do. Why do I bother? Why do I even bother?

Dylan's gaze trailed Skye into the kitchen. He put his weapon down and went to her. "I know it’s hard, but we just gotta wait til morning to know what we're going to do for sure. Need to see how many men can make it up here and a few other things. As for Wade, well, you’re not gonna change his mind once he gets a thought. Best just let him do what he's gonna do. It's how he works out his nervous energy."

"It's just -- this is all just --" Skye stopped, shaking her head. "And I’m out of anxiety meds."

Jesse came over and wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay, Mom. We'll take care of ya."

Skye gave a nervous, little laugh and pushed back Jesse's hair, holding his face. "And here I am, thinking I'm supposed to take care of you."

About an hour later, the trio heard the squawk of chickens as Wade drove up. When they stepped outside, Wade stood by the truck a happy, and proud, smile on his face. After congratulating Wade on his find, they all worked at getting the chickens settled into their new home. The birds complained at first, then settled to pecking at the grass.

Dylan watched the new residents for a while before reaching in and taking one out of the pen. He stroked it a few times then walked away with it.

Skye called after him, "Where are you taking her?"

Dylan shrugged. "Figured she'd make a good dinner."

"What? No!" She crossed her arms.

"You never made a chicken? We'll show ya."

"Yes, I have made chicken, just not one that I know."

Dylan smirked. "You don't know this one either. It's a chicken." He waited a moment, but Skye still looked at him with wide offended eyes, so he offered another argument. "Sides, she's older, I doubt she's laying."

"Don't kill her. Can't we just let her, you know, retire or something?"

That earned Skye Dylan's Woman, Sometimes I Can't Believe What You Are Saying look. "No, she can't. Chickens don't retire. They work, or they die."

"That is a tough stance, couldn't we —“ Skye cast her gaze around as she thought, but Dylan didn't want to hear anymore.

"It's the middle of the dang apocalypse, and you want to let our food sources retire? No."

Skye looked to the ground, tears welling up in her eyes. She knew she sounded idiotic, but she wasn't ready for this today. Today had been full enough. Quickly she brushed the tears away. "Look, I know what you must think of me. And yes, my favorite kinds of meat were the unidentifiable skinless, boneless lumps. I know it isn't like that now. But today, with everything going on, could we just do this tomorrow, please?"

Dylan reached toward Skye until the chicken let out a squawk. He looked from it to her before returning the chicken to the enclosure and mumbling, "I guess you just got a reprieve from the governor."

Dylan came back to Skye's side. "Just to be clear though, this ain't gonna happen every time we want to eat chicken, right?"

Skye bumped her arm against his and offered a small laugh. "I hope not. I'm trying to toughen up. You wouldn't believe how I was before all this."

Dylan laughed. "Oh, yeah, I can believe it. You've come a long way since those red high heels and lattes, ignoring everything unless it bumped right into you. More'n I woulda thought." He winked at her. "While there's somethin to be said for the old Skye, I approve of the changes."

Skye giggled and looked down. "Still have a ways to go though, right?"

Wisely, Dylan said nothing.

4

Promise Me

That evening Dylan and Wade instructed Skye and Jesse on how to secure the cabin against attack. Each of the windows were paired with a steel sheet that covered them quickly and easily. The doors contained bars with the ability to latch and secured them.

Wade banged on the front door. "This here is a steel door, it's just wood veneer. Ain't no one gettin in here easy."

Dylan lowered a ladder leading to the small, low attic. He hauled up cushions and food for Skye and Jesse, enough to last for a day. "You close up this cabin and stay up here tomorrow."

"Do you really think that will be necessary? The fight, if it comes to that, won't be near us." Skye scanned all the downstairs preparations. "Surely the downstairs will be safe enough."

Dylan gave Skye a sharp shake of his head. "It's close enough. We start stirrin them up, and we don't know what'll happen. Necessary or not, it'll make me feel better knowing you and the boy are up here. It's one more line of defense."

Dylan wrapped his hand around her upper arm. "Promise me you will stay up here."

"I will."

Dylan continued to stare at her as if willing her to understand the importance.

"I promise, Dylan. We'll stay up here."

His eyes narrowed. "And this is a promise you'll be keepin?"

Skye sighed a little, she was forced to admit she had only a so-so track record with him. "Yes, I will keep it."

Dylan nodded and let go of her. "Stay here, I have somethin else to show you."

When he raced down and came back with guns and ammo, Skye's expression showed her distaste.

Dylan barked out a sharp laugh. "Too bad, little woman, you're gonna have them ready. Load these in the morning and keep them ready."

Skye bit her lip but nodded. She took note as he showed her the lookouts where she could get a full view of the yard. She raised an eyebrow at Dylan. "Why do I feel you and Wade have had this cabin army-proofed for a long time?"

"Cause we have."

"Why?"

Dylan shrugged and grunted something she couldn't make out as he made his way back down the ladder.

* * *

The morning brought ten men, a cargo truck, and a plan up to the mountain. Dylan was the lookout and whistled. Skye came out to greet her cousin and to hand out some muffins she baked for everyone.

With a determined look on her face, Skye drew Tom aside. Tom listened and nodded. "I agree, Skye. I'm hoping for a peaceful resolution, but I have to warn you, I won't be surprised if there isn't."

"But you're going to try?"

"I'd already planned on it."

The clatter of weapons being checked and rechecked filled the morning air. Skye shook her head at Jesse as he went to each person asking to see their weapons. How was she going to give him a peaceful life in all this chaos? With his background, violence may be the first thing he turned to, and she wanted to change that. But the way the world was now, it would be a hard thing to do.

Tom waved Wade over and explained his plan. "It's fairly simple. We get those Sick into the box truck. I agree with Skye we try and get them to agree to it. But if they don't agree, we get them in it by any means necessary. We will start with the least aggressive and work our way up. I want this done legally, so I am deputizing all of you for the day. Let's gather everyone up. I'll run down the order of events in dealing with a group of disorderlies as it was taught to me."

"Where are ya takin them when we're done?" Wade asked.

"I got on the radio last night. There's a containment area for the Sick a couple towns over. They've got some of the military watching over it. Reckon it's the best place for them now."

"Okay then," Dylan said as he picked at his nails, "let's get this over with."

Tom handed out masks and gloves. "Seems a lot of us may be immune to this thing, but I'd rather not take any chances. Wear them in case this ends up in close quarters."

As the men piled back into the trucks, Skye and Jesse said goodbye to Dylan and Wade. Dylan watched Skye give a Wade a quick hug and scolded him to be careful, then she moved to him. Skye's concerned green eyes slowly lifted from his chest to his face. She wrapped a hand around his forearm. "Please promise me you will be careful."

"I promise, Skye."

Skye stepped close and reached her arms around him. She hugged him and laid her head against his chest. Dylan could almost swear his heart skipped a beat. But without a doubt, it began to ache. When she started to pull away, he refused to let her.

Not yet.

Dylan tightened his arms, avoiding her bruising from her encounter with Calvin. He gazed down at the top of her head. Dylan stayed that way until he heard the banging of car doors closing as the men entered the vehicles. Then whether Dylan was ready or not, it was time to go.

He released Skye but took a minute to lift her chin and repeat his promise, "I will."

Dylan cleared his throat a couple times and glanced from Skye to Jesse. "Now you both get in there. I want this house locked up before I leave."

Skye and Jesse entered the cabin and secured the door before Wade and Dylan moved. When they knew the woman and boy were as safe as they could be, the men got in Dylan's truck and followed the caravan out of the clearing and onto the road.

Dylan clenched his jaw as he watched the little cabin get smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. He hated the sick feeling in his stomach as he left them behind.

5

Weston

Dylan's hands gripped and twisted the smooth leather steering wheel as he forced his mind to shift from Skye to the task at hand. There was no place for distracting thoughts when a man prepared for battle. Staying sharp was the key to survival.

When the men reached the small path leading to the Sick, they parked their vehicles and jumped out, feet pounding the dirt road. Silently, they strapped their weapons to their bodies. There was no need for words. The plan made, it was time for action.

Dylan laid his crossbow on his back and looked over his rifle one more time. He planned to be prepared for anything. He and Wade were, in fact, the most outfitted men there. They each carried their bows, two guns, knives and a few little surprises Tom didn't know about in case something went awry. No way we ain’t getting back home today.

Dylan, Wade, and Tom took point as the group prowled through the forest. Dylan indicated the way to the men fanned out around them. The group moved as quickly and quietly as they were able, though Dylan thought they sounded as loud as a bunch of zoo animals and hoped the Sick's hearing wasn't up to par. Still, he couldn't help exchanging a look and a grimace with Wade after some loud rustling and snaps of branches.

When Tom’s men reached the little green glen the house stood in, they all stopped as Dylan pointed out the surroundings to Tom. The sheriff signaled the men to spread out along the dense tree line and to stay hidden. Then he stepped out into the opening.

Tom's chest heaved with several deep breaths. The sunlight caught on the badge he wore pinned to his sheriff's uniform. He cleared his throat to speak. Before he did, the Sick spotted him.

Like yesterday, the Sick meandered through the yard. Those less affected by the disease did chores. All of them stopped when they spotted the sheriff.

One of the Sick, confused and angry, lumbered toward Tom. An Infected grabbed the Sick’s arm to still him as he lowered the garden hoe he'd been using on the vegetables to the ground. He stepped forward, indicating he was the leader.

"We're all sick here, but we're not hurtin anyone," he said, his manner slow and earnest. "We stick to ourselves."

Tom tipped his head in acknowledgment. "My name's Tom. I'm the sheriff of Colton. What's yours?"

"Weston."

"Well, Weston. I'm sorry to say we need to have a conversation about what's going on up here."

Weston frowned and crossed his arms. "Like I said, we aren't hurtin anyone, and we stop the bad ones from roaming."

"That may be true at the moment, but there are people with kids on this mountain. Their families have kept them away from this disease in the hope they'll survive this. What happens if one of your Sick gets away from you? What happens when you're all as ill as they are? Who will stop the roaming then? If those families get this illness, if one of those kids do, it's on you."

Weston looked down and shook his head, but he couldn't give a acceptable answer to Tom’s question. "We'll move on down the mountain when it comes to that."

Tom sighed and rubbed his cheek. "That isn't good enough. There isn't rhythm or reason to this disease. You could all wake up tomorrow more ill than you are now."

Weston looked out over his group, then the ground and scuffed his feet before looking back at Tom. "What are you thinkin?"

Tom pointed toward the road. "I have a truck. I'm hopin you all agree to get inside. There's an area set aside for the Sick a couple towns over. We'll take you there."

A grumble went out among Weston's more coherent people. "That won't work. Some escaped from there. They say it isn't a good place to be." Weston thought for a moment. "Take us to a deserted town."

Tom exchanged a glance with Dylan. "I feel for these people," he murmured, "I really do. It's the first time I've come across any trying to do the right thing."

Dylan nodded, his heart weighing heavy as he looked as the Sick and Infected.

Tom turned back to Weston. "I wish that would work, Weston, I really do, but there are pockets of survivors all through these hills. Taking you to a town may help us, but it may kill others. I can't do that. You need to go to the containment area."

The crowd's murmur grew louder. Many of the Infected began to pace back and forth across the grass, their faces red with anger. The Sick picked up on their emotion, and rage started to stir in them.

Tom eyed Weston’s people and kept his voice calm. "We don't want to upset you, but you know firsthand what this disease is, what it does. You can't want that for others when it can be avoided. See it from our side. Look at the chance we'd be taking if we just walked away."

Weston's voice took on a hard edge. "And we won't go to the containment camp. We'll fight before we do that. We'll fight, and you'll die. You'll die right here."

Tom shook his head. "I didn't want it to come to this. I didn't come alone. If we fight, it isn't me who will die."

Weston was resigned to his fate, and it showed in his next words. "We're dyin anyway. You'd be doing us a favor. This disease --" He spit on the ground. "It's the most ungodly, revolting thing there is. We're wastin away and wastin away in that camp would just be more gruesome." Weston sighed. "We only wanted a little time. A little time to live decent, while we could."

Tom scanned the group and rubbed his chest. He glanced at Dylan. "This could been us, D. It could be Tricia trying to get what little joy life has left for her, counting down the years in minutes." He shook his head, then yelled out to Weston. "We're not just gonna shoot you down. Let’s talk this out."

Weston barked a bitter laugh. "I lost everything that made this life worth livin a long time ago. My wife and my children to this sickness almost the day it started. My farm and house to frightened townspeople thinking they could keep the disease away. Fighting wasn't an option then, wouldn't have helped if I tried. Now you come in here attempting to take this small piece of ground we worked so hard to find. This time, I'm ready. You ain't gonna just shoot us down, I wouldn't let you if you tried. That's the thing about us humans, we fight to the bitter end no matter how bitter it is. No, we're going to make this a party. We might be dyin, but we're taking some of with us."

A roar went up among Weston's people. They moved for small weapons hidden around the camp.

Dylan shook his head. Tom did all he could to talk them in, and they weren't having it. Dylan watched as the Sick and Infected cheered themselves on and felt his stomach tighten. Planting his feet, he raised his rifle to his shoulder. This was going exactly as he'd thought it would.

6

Get This Done

Tom threw up his arms. "Wait!"

"There ain't nothing to wait for!" Weston replied as he raised his hand. Flinging it down, he shouted, "Shoot!"

Tom dove for cover, landing at Dylan's feet, as Dylan ducked the onslaught of bullets.

Tom's orders had been clear. The horde couldn't have much ammo. The deputies would wait them out, let them waste their bullets, then go scoop them up. Chaos erupted as the horde's shots blasted the trees, bushes, and ground around Tom's men. Dirt kicked up from the bare ground. Small twigs and leaves hailed down on them from above.

Dylan flinched and went cold when something hit his arm. He snorted. A small rock was embedded in his arm. He flicked it out and took up his weapon again.

Tom's men backed away from the volley of bullets, taking shelter just outside the horde's range. Once Weston's group realized their strategy wasn't working, the racket subsided.

"Fight us!" Weston bellowed.

Tom gestured for his men to stay steady and low.

"Fight us!"

Tom called out to him. "We don't want to fight you! We want a peaceful resolution to this. Let's work this out."

"I told you what was gonna happen here today. You can come out and face us or hide in those bushes, but it's happenin. Without a doubt, it's happenin."

Tom scrubbed a hand over his face. "He's not leaving me much choice here," he murmured, "and they need to be taken care of, one way or another." Tom squared his shoulders and gestured toward the house. His men sent a volley of their own.

Tom's men avoided hurting anyone. This was a show of strength, not a slaughter. Tom hoped they would see he had the superior firepower and co-operate. Still, their shots broke windows and splintered siding. Bullets sheared garden plants and exploded the ground around the horde.

Most Infected ducked and ran, taking shelter on the far side of the house and leaving the disoriented Sick screaming and vulnerable to attack.

Tom gave the order to stop firing. Once it was quiet, he shouted, "Like I said, I have others with me."

The horde stayed hidden, their angry voices disagreeing over their next move.

Dylan crouched, leaning back against a tree trunk, Wade at his side. "Now we wait," Wade said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. While Dylan could and would do what was necessary, it was Wade who found the most enjoyment in confrontation. Dylan had it in him to enjoy violence but hated that part of his personality. He reminded himself he was here for Skye and Jesse and the others on the mountain -- for a purpose. Dylan hadn't had that before. He did now. Instead of relishing the battle, he would wait and savor a victory.

Wade nudged him. "Come on, bro!" He wanted to see a matching light in his brother's eyes.

"I wanna get this done, for them -- all of them."

Wade agreed. He set his jaw. "Oh, we will."

While Tom's men waited, the horde got impatient. Every so often they would send a small volley toward the men, but Tom's group let it pass without returning fire.

Until the bullets came from in front and behind them.

Dylan and Wade dropped to one knee, twisting around to find the new source of firepower. A long line of the enemy crept among the trees behind Tom's people attempting to corral them. The middle of the line contained the most normal of the Infected holding their best weapons. Each end included the sickest of the group. Frantic from the noise of the guns, the lumbering Sick had been tied together to keep them in place.

Dylan hissed. It was a brilliant plan, they used the Sick as weapons.

Dylan's noise caught Tom and Wade's attention. Dylan pointed out the enemy. The situation had just become more complicated, and Tom needed to make a decision.

Tom eyed the army in front and behind his own. "I'm reluctant to split our people --"

Dylan watched Tom's thoughts play along his face with the familiarity known only to childhood friends. He knew the decision Tom made even before it cemented in his friend's mind. He slipped a weapon into Tom's hand and waved to Wade and a few others to follow him, leaving Tom and the rest to the group in the woods.

Dylan and the men who followed him weaved across the small, grassy glen, using what little cover was available. The horde behind the house fired on them. Someone grunted in pain, but Dylan wasn't sure who as no one stopped.

Once Dylan's people made it to the house, they slapped their backs against the rough siding, holding their guns ready. Tom wanted this done with as little bloodshed as possible. Deputized or no, Dylan felt the same way.

These people were in an impossible situation, one he could possibly be in one day. The thought made him merciful, but the bullets firing around him tempered that compassion. One almost caught Dylan as he peered around the edge of the wall. He huffed. You ain't stoppin us from getting home tonight.

Dylan's gaze flicked to the battle raging in the woods, hoping that Tom was winning, then stilled when stealthy steps came around the side of the house. The Infected were making a move. Quickly, he did a mental inventory of his weapons, deciding on a course of action.

Out of his pocket, he pulled a flash-bang and showed it to Wade. If they caught a break, these would work well to stun Weston's army as the diseased were sensitive to light and sound.

Before Dylan got into position, two bold Infected ran down the side of the house firing their weapons. Wade and another of the men moved to the corner of the building, waiting at the edge for the Infected to reach it. Dylan moved behind them while gesturing for the others to take the opposite corner.

Cool and calm, Wade crouched, his finger ready on the trigger. The enemy was messy and disorganized in their approach. Dylan's men waited, letting them come. The Infected rounded the corner, their guns raised.

Wade fired, and the Infected fell, their own shots going wild. Knowing their wounds were unlikely to be fatal, Wade took their guns from them and zip-tied their wrists as they moaned and thrashed on the ground.

Dylan wasted no time in stepping out around them. He threw a flash-bang to the other side of the house where the remaining Sick and Infected were. Then he stepped back using the house for cover as he waited for the explosion.

When it came, the horde roared their confusion and ran out from behind the wall. Dylan and his men took advantage of the chaos and rushed the disoriented people.

Dylan grinned at his brother as they got this horde under control. Wade and a couple others shoved the lurching, dirty Sick into the house. They could deal with them later. Dylan stationed men around the near-normal Infected, guns pointing directly at them. For all their fierce talk of fighting to the end, most became resigned to their fate and allowed their hands to be tied.

But the fight still burned within a few. And when Dylan turned to survey the situation, he saw Weston almost upon him.

7

Flash Bang

Tom had been surprised Dylan read him so well. He hadn't known his friend could do that. And thrilled by what he'd left behind.

Gotta love that guy. He looked down at the two flash-bangs in his hand.

Where Dylan picked up the stun grenade was of no consequence to Tom. Now that he had them, he was going to use them.

The battle raged at the house, but Tom kept his mind on his own war. He needed to believe Dylan and Wade had theirs in hand, it was the only way Tom would get through this one.

Sweat ran down his body and nausea threatened as he fought the Sick, first with weapons then hand to hand. He tried to keep Weston's army at firing distance, but it hadn't worked. They were upon them

The Infected Tom fought hand-to-hand was tough, but Tom was finally getting the upper hand. The man's iron grip on Tom's neck caused the sheriff to gasp for breath. If Tom didn't do something soon, he would pass out.

Taking the Infected's head in both his hands, Tom banged it against the ground until the man released the vicious hold he had on Tom. Then taking advantage of his upper hand, Tom quickly zip-tied his wrists and ankles.

Tom stood and looked for his next target only to find that he was the target. Tom's stomach tightened. Three Sick held guns on him and his men. Most of the sheriff's army came to a standstill as they eyed him for direction.

"Weapons down, hands up!" said the Infected taking the lead.

Dylan's explosion near the house startled everyone. Tom took advantage of the distraction. Drawing the flash-bang from his pocket, the sheriff released the pin and threw it directly at the gunmen.

"Duck!" he said to his own men as he crouched, covering his ears and squeezing his eyes shut.

Once the brilliant flash receded, Tom's men rushed the Infected and quickly subdued them. After gathering up the few roped Sick still staggering the woods, Tom looked over at the house and glen.

Dylan's men had a large group of the Sick surrounded, but some were still resisting. Tom's heart sank as he watched Weston ambush Dylan.

8

Getting Home

There was almost no time before Weston was upon him. Dylan steadied himself. Still, the smack of Weston's body slamming into his and the blow as Dylan hit the ground was a shock. Air burst from his lungs and refused to return. His heart beat against his eardrums, the one sound Dylan heard as he struggled to breathe. Only sheer force of will enabled him to choke in any air at all.

Weston rained blows on the stunned Dylan. But instead of ending in his defeat, it fueled Dylan’s fight. Gasping and coughing, Dylan threw punches of his own.

Weston's refusal to give in stirred others within his beaten group. More than one of those subdued began to fight again. Dylan's men had a hard time containing the horde. More than one man now had the enemy on him. The tables seemed to have turned again.

A shot rang out, and one of Dylan's men screamed and crumbled.

Dylan's guard lowered for a second, long enough for Weston to grab a knife from his belt and raise it over him. Dylan's straining arms shook as he struggled to stop the knife's downward trek toward his heart.

His world became small. There was only this man, this knife, this moment.

Dylan slammed him in the side with a knee. Weston yelled. It had the desired effect, Dylan rolled the two of them.

Weston pulled his knife back, causing Dylan to lurch forward. He put a hand to Dylan's shoulder and lowered his blade, aiming for his side.

Dylan saw the weapon but had little time to react. He arched his body away from Weston's knife but not enough to avoid its cut.

He hissed as the knife drove through his skin and into the muscles below. Pain ran red through his mind. He shoved the agony away, sticking to the task at hand, the only useful lessons his father's abuse ever taught him.

Smashing his fist into Weston's face, he dazed him. Dylan ground his teeth, as inch by inch, the blade slid out of him like a fire-hot branding iron.

Dylan smashed the man's knife hand against the ground, again and again, watching his own blood fly from the blade onto the grass with each blow. Finally, Weston cried out, dropping the knife.

With shaking hands, Dylan zip-tied Weston's wrists and ankles before pushing himself upright, only to hit the dirt again as someone slammed him from behind.

Dylan's strength waned. The world spun as he struggled to turn in the man's grasp.

The Infected man used only his fists, but they were enough. Seeing Dylan's bloody side, he aimed for this vulnerable spot. He hammered the knife wound with his tightly clenched fists.

Dylan gasped in pain, his body instinctively wrapping itself around his injury. He worked at two things only, slowing the man down where he could and fighting for whatever breath he could drag in over the painful torment. He knew he wouldn't last long.

Dylan had never been bested in a fight, and he did everything in his power not to lose this one. He continued to twist and punch. Occasionally, he landed a solid strike, but nothing stopped the man.

Blood soaked Dylan's side, his skin torn and battered. After one particularly harsh blow, Dylan let out an anguished, pain-filled yell.

Gasping and heaving, the world turning dark, Dylan had seconds before he lost consciousness. He clawed the ground for a weapon, any weapon. His desperate mind sped through his options, and he remembered one last item. Dylan reached into his pocket and yanked out a flash-bang. Taking a final punch, Dylan pulled the pin before rolling the stun grenade. It stopped dangerously close to himself and his attacker.

Dylan put his hands to his ears, closed his eyes, and turned his head away as best he could from the blast.

The infected man stopped and started to stand, but it was too late. The light and sound caught the man full in the face. He fell to the ground, temporarily blind and deaf.

His own fight over, Wade rushed to Dylan's side. "Bro, I heard ya, but I couldn't get away." His sympathetic face scanned Dylan's bruised, bleeding body. "You got it bad."

He must look rough because Wade wasn't looking so good himself. "Help me up.” Dylan grunted out the words.

Wade frowned. "I don't know, man, I think ya should stay down."

"No, I want up."

Dylan slung his arm over Wade's shoulder, and his brother slowly raised him from the ground. As he straightened, he let out another pained shout.

Wade shot Dylan a sharp glance. In all his life, Dylan had never cried out like that, not in all their rough adventures nor in all their father's abuse. Wade often screamed his rage or cried his pain, but Dylan learned long ago not to verbalize his suffering.

Tears ran down the faces of both the men. Dylan from his agony. Wade for his brother.

"See, it's over, D."

As Dylan swayed against Wade taking in Tom and his group as they rounded up the Infected and Sick. Dylan's vision darkened, but he relaxed. Everything was in hand now.

Relief slackened his broken body even more, and Wade struggled to hold him upright. Dylan held a hand to his raw, tortured side as darkness overcame him. He fell again, but this time his brother softened the blow.

His face drawn in pain, a tiny smile curved the left side of his mouth as one last thought passed through his mind before he blacked out.

We're gettin home tonight.

9

Quarantine

Skye sat on the living room couch and watched the sun break through the clouds for the first time in a long while and smiled. She listened in on Dylan and Jesse's conversation as their low voices discussed their current model car construction over their morning coffee. Wade banged skillets onto the stovetop as he prepared to make breakfast. She glanced at him and held back a soft laugh. Wade was so noisy in the kitchen, Skye was sure he felt it a requirement.

Days had passed since the battle. Time she and Jesse had struggled on their own as the men remained in quarantine after the fight. The protective gear Tom handed out before the fight hadn’t been used. Though most of them had either been through the AgFlu or thought they were immune, no one wanted to risk their families after the close interaction they'd had with the Sick.

When Skye had gotten word about Dylan's injuries, she raced to the old, deserted cottage used as a quarantine center, but Wade refused to let her in. One mention of Jesse and she backed down. Skye wouldn't endanger him anymore than the men would.

So instead, she'd paced outside the cabin until Wade yelled out they had Dylan patched up as best they could, and he was resting. After that, she took the lead in gathering food, blankets, and other necessities for the men staying at the old place.

After setting cleaning supplies by the front door, Skye stepped back and waited for Wade to open it. "Please Wade, make sure you give the cabin a thorough washing. Especially wherever Dylan and the other injured men will be."

"It ain't that bad in here, I was kinda surprised," Wade said, looking around behind him.

Concern covered Skye's face. "It's been deserted for who knows how long. Animals may have been in there, mold, lots of things that could cause problems."

"Yeah, I'm just sayin --"

"Just say you'll clean it!"

Wade couldn't ignore the panic on Skye's face. "I don't know about these other guys, but ya know we keep a good house. It'll be nice and germ-free."

Skye's tension eased a bit. "Yes, I know you do. I'm sorry. It's just, no one really knows how to care for him."

All the men had returned from the fight, but there had been injuries. Two of them were shot. One a flesh wound, but the other more serious, and no one was sure of the extent of Dylan's wounds. But they patched them all up as best they could. Without a doctor, they all hoped what they did was sufficient. And whether it was his body healing or his sheer stubbornness, to Skye's horror, Dylan was up and moving the next day.

As many of the families did, Skye and Jesse made it a habit to take dinner for Dylan and Wade to their cabin if the weather was good. Skye and Jesse would sit in the yard, close but not too close, and the men would sit near an open window to talk to each other.

A couple of days after the battle, Skye spread a blanket out on the grass for her and Jesse and settled to eat.

She couldn't help but wince at the deep bruising on both the men. "How are you both feeling?"

"Feelin spry enough," Wade said. "Me and Dylan were thinkin on running some sprints today."

Skye playfully rolled her eyes at him. "You'd better not. I want you both healthy and hearty as quickly as possible." She looked at Dylan. "Tricia's been using the radio to find a doctor, but she hasn't had any success yet. But she hasn't given up."

"I'm fine, Skye," Dylan said. "She doesn't need to be wastin her time like that. I'm just sorry we're stuck in here. It can't be easy on you by yourself."

"Hey!" Jesse said, "She ain't by herself!"

Skye ruffled Jesse's hair and smiled. "That’s right, Dylan, I'm not by myself. We are both quite capable. Don't worry. We are doing fine too."

Dylan grunted as he eyed her, trying to discern her truthfulness. "How'd it go when we were fightin? Did any show up at the cabin?"

"Nope." Skye shook her head. "It was quiet as can be. We stayed tucked up in the attic, kept a lookout as we played games and watched some shows I downloaded before this all started. It was as peaceful as a spa day."

Dylan gave Skye a lopsided smile. "I got no idea what a spa day is like, and I'm sure I don't want to know. But seems it went good. More'n a little surprised, but happy, you listened to me."

Skye made a face at Dylan. What she didn't tell him was the deep-seated fear she'd carried all that day. How she and Jesse jumped and ran to the lookouts, not only every half-hour as instructed, but with every small bump and scratch they heard. But in the long run, the most exciting thing that happened that day was Skye winning her first game of Jenga against Jesse.

Sure she was developing a skill for the game, she insisted they continue to play even as she lost every succeeding match to the boy. Finally, Skye gave up and broke out old episodes of Stranger Things she downloaded before the AgFlu began. They used their precious daily allowance of electricity watching monsters as they chewed their fingernails over the real monsters Wade and Dylan fought. It hadn't been a peaceful day at all.

After a couple of hours, Dylan and Wade encouraged Skye and Jesse to go home. Though the brothers were happy to spend time with them, they said it troubled them Skye and Jesse traveled on their own. When Skye finally relented, Wade followed them in his vehicle to make sure they made it back safely.

The routines established the first few days of the quarantine had continued until the day they came home.

Skye bit the inside of her cheek as she glanced at Dylan for the hundredth time this morning. He raised his coffee cup to his generous lips and took a sip. The steam rose against his rugged face. The light bruising remaining around his eyes brought out the blue in them. He squinted, just a bit, as he sipped the hot liquid.

Her gaze lingered on his neck as he swallowed, his Adam's apple raising and lowering with the action. Dylan's black hair was almost to his shoulders. Skye stared at it, sure it teased her, daring her to reach out and run her fingers through it.

Her eyes traveled to his side. He favored it, though he tried not to show it. When he thought no one was looking, his hand often strayed to his wound, as it did now. He hadn't stayed quiet long enough.

Dylan put down his coffee and looked at her. He caught her eye, a grin at the corner of his mouth. He knows, he always knows when I'm looking at him.

She returned his look for a moment before turning her attention to an excited Jesse, who jabbered about their project.

It was yesterday the self-imposed quarantine lifted, and the men came home. No more sleepless nights for Skye as she tried to watch over Jesse and endless days doing three people's jobs. Jesse had more than pulled his weight, but he couldn't replace two grown men. And though Skye proved to herself she and Jesse could survive on their own, it was a far less comfortable life.

More than that, she had missed Dylan and Wade. Their physical presence changed the house, giving the home back the energy it lacked without them. Once their brawny bodies filled the doorway and a 'hello' was uttered in their masculine voices everything seemed back to normal.

Their reunion was emotional. The family had been apart too long. It took an unexpected turn for Skye when her gaze met and locked with Dylan's fiery one, igniting a matching blaze in her eyes. It took everything she had to drag herself away from him and welcome Wade too.

Last evening, more often than not, when her eyes strayed to Dylan, he was already looking at her. Now, once again, she dragged her gaze from his and stared out the window.

Something's starting. It's been starting, and I've just been trying to ignore it. We aren't ready for this. We have too much baggage to get through yet. And too much danger at every turn to be thinking of anything else right now.

Her mind flew through every lousy romance scenario that existed, ending with her and Jesse homeless and hungry surrounded by the Sick. She scolded herself, even if everything ended badly, Dylan would never throw them out.

But it could still ruin so much. Skye bit the inside of her cheek as she sent a sly glance Dylan's way. The separation had increased their chemistry. It worried her. Skye loved this little family. She'd lost her own flesh and blood, these people were how she filled the empty void.

She rolled her eyes at herself. All this emotional back and forth of hers was getting crazy. So, yeah, things needed to get back to normal.

Skye blew out a long sigh, causing tendrils of hair to dance around her face. A bluebird flew onto the porch and sang in a sunbeam lighting up the front of the house.

She and Dylan could use a distraction, and she had just the thing on this beautiful, warm day. "How about a picnic?"

10

A Fine Idea

Jesse's face lit up at the mention of a picnic, and though breakfast hadn't begun, he immediately listed what he wanted for lunch.

Wade flipped another pancake, tossing it from the pan to the air, then waited for it to land. "That sounds like a great day to me!"

Turning to Dylan, Skye asked, "What about the cliff that overlooks Colton? Is that a good place for a picnic?"

Dylan hesitated then wrapped both of his hands around his hot mug of coffee. "Huh, yeah, should be okay."

Skye’s forehead creased. Dylan seemed reluctant. But before she could question him, Wade distracted her.

"It's a fine idea!" Wade said, "I'm hungry. Can't wait to get there."

Skye breathed in the light, sweet smell of the pancakes and laughed at Wade's foolishness. "You haven't even finished breakfast yet!"

“When it comes to food, I’m always thinking ahead. By the time we get there, I know I’ll be hungry as a springtime momma bear!” Wade mimed a loud, ridiculous starving bear, which started everyone laughing. None as much as Jesse, who fell to the floor in exaggerated amusement.

After breakfast, the four of them walked the trail to the overlook. Skye had loaded a backpack carrying all the requested food. Before they were out the door, Wade grabbed up the pack and ran off a little way as if stealing it. Jesse raced after him.

"There better still be food in that backpack when we get there!" Skye laughingly called out after them.

Skye sped up to Dylan, and he matched his steps to hers. She looked up at him. “Do we need to worry about the Sick up here?”

Dylan frowned and shook his head. “I don’t think so. It’s usually clear of them. I walked it every day. There’s fewer of ‘em up here now, and it’s unlikely they’d climb up even a small mountain to the top.” He thought for a moment. “Unless we have more of the Infected pushing them up here, the only thing you’ll see is a view of Colton.”

The conversation changed to how the neighbors fared when Wade joined the discussion. He’d taken up Dylan’s rounds while his brother recuperated. Skye and Dylan eagerly listened to Wade’s update.

Jesse sprinted here and there on the path. Skye called out to him, worried he was getting too far away. Jesse's shoulders slumped, and he sighed, but he moved closer to the group.

The sun filtered through the trees, warming them as they strolled through the forest. The tree line broke, opening to a thinly grassed clearing. Skye walked the rocky ground to the natural overlook and sent Dylan a questioning glance. “It seems quiet. Do you think Tom and Tricia are doing okay?”

“Yep, looks good.” Dylan pointed out the sheriff’s house.

“It’s so tiny, how can you tell?” Skye squinted her right eye, then her left as she tried to make out the correct house. “Man, you must have good eyes!”

Jesse zig-zagged around the clearing with no particular destination. “Hey, look at the clouds! They are the puffy ones ya like, Skye likes clouds. She likes trees too. Her favorite plant is a tree. Isn’t that weird?”

Skye laughed. "I don't know it is weird, it's just different from you."

"Yeah, me, and every other person. Who likes trees?" Jesse dragged out the word as he rolled his eyes. "You're a girl. You should like flowers."

“I do like flowers, just about every one I’ve ever met. But you asked me my favorite plant, and it is trees.”

“Yeah, and not only one — every kind. What does that say about ya? Huh?” Jesse stood with his hand on his chin as he played therapist.

“It says I like trees.” Skye raced after him, reaching out to tickle him. He giggled and ran away, darting this way and that trying to outrun her longer strides. But Jesse didn’t succeed, Skye was a fast runner.

She came up behind him and pulled them both down to the ground. Jesse kicked and laughed as he went down, letting out a couple of squeals. Skye relented, and the boy got himself under control. When she patted him on the head and let him go, he was soon distracted by some bugs in the grass.

Wade walked up to Skye. “That boy is gonna be all right with you as his mom.” His tone made it clear he admired the bond between her and Jesse. “If Dylan and me woulda had that, well, let’s just say, things would’ve been different, is all.”

“You’re doing okay, Wade,” Skye reassured him.

“Well, we’ve had our ups and down, but we’re doin okay now. Maybe you’re helpin us out too, Doc.”

Skye chuckled. “Doc. It seems so strange to hear that now. It’s hardly been a couple of months, but it seems so long ago.”

“People really called you Doc?” Dylan asked. To him, she had always been Skye.

Skye spread out a blanket she packed. The men threw questioning looks at each other and shrugged before awkwardly helping her.

Straightening it to her satisfaction, Skye continued, “Well, my receptionist did. And the kids did and the kid’s parents. So yeah, they did.” She pursed her lips. “Well, that’s what I was.”

Dylan reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “What you are.”

Skye settled herself on the blanket. “I’m not sure what I am anymore. You can’t do much good as a therapist if you don’t have any patients.”

Jesse, seeing the promise of food, came running up and caught the conversation. “I’m still your patient, even if I call ya mom now. I’m still plenty messed up. You have to fix me.” He plopped onto the blanket beside Skye, nonchalantly reaching for the bag of chips.

Eyes tearing up, Skye reached out to the boy. “Jesse—“

Wade gave a low chuckle. “Can’t get much more messed up than us three. It seems like ya have plenty of patients around here. We’ll keep you busy for a while.” He scratched his cheek. “Not sure you're gonna get rich tendin us though.”

Skye found it sad but amusing they volunteered themselves. "Fortunately, I'm not looking for riches. I want good old-fashioned food, clothing, and shelter, of which you have an abundance. Oh, and your sharp survival instincts of which I'm seriously lacking. Not a single dime needs to change hands."

"Well, that's good," Dylan said, "Cause I'd be seriously hard-pressed to find me a dime."

11

The Picnic

After lunch, Dylan and Wade lounged on the blanket, it seemed a blanket wasn't such a bad idea. But Jesse, unable to stay still for long, explored.

Skye sat, cross-legged, on the edge of the blanket as she side-eyed the men. I seriously need to bring two next time.

She turned her attention to the gorgeous view in front of her. The overlook's sizeable grassy field dropped away as one neared its edge. Below that, raw rocky soil formed cracks and fissures down the face of the small mountain.

Skye's gaze roamed over the quiet town below, as well as, the low mountains stretching as far as she could see in either direction. Water burbled to the right, and she told herself to ask Dylan how large the river was when she woke up. Right now, Skye wanted a little nap.

Skye lightly pushed at Dylan so he would give her enough room to lie down. The sun warmed her cheeks as she stretched out, and the wind gently brushed across her.

A bird called from above, and Skye squinted up. There were two. She turned to ask Dylan what kind they were.

Jesse noticed the birds too. His face tipped to the sky as he backed up, keeping them in sight. Skye opened her mouth to call him closer to her. He was too close to the edge for her comfort.

Wide-eyed, Jesse stared at the dirt at his feet. Sheer terror covered his face as he threw out his arms.

He disappeared in a small upward blast of powdered soil.

A bolt of white shock ripped through Skye. She tore at the ground, pushing off it into a run. She gasped and screamed as she ran.

"Jesse! Jesse! Oh, my God, please no, no, no!"

Then she screamed for Dylan.

* * *

Somewhere in the comfortable haze of Dylan’s light doze, something shifted. Even before Skye moved and uttered her first shrill scream, he had stirred.

He and Wade went from resting to sprinting so quick it was barely perceivable. They communicated without a word as they raced to the edge. A nod from Dylan meant Wade needed to keep Skye from seeing what could be over the side.

Skye was almost to the brink. And at the speed she flew, Dylan questioned her ability to keep from plunging over herself. He reached to grab her arm just as Wade caught her around the waist and threw himself backward.

Desperate and angry, Skye fought for her freedom as she screamed Jesse's name.

Wade held Skye tight as Dylan picked his way across the shaky ground. Dylan lay flat and peered over the edge. He desperately wanted the boy to be okay, by some miracle. But he knew this mountain, this cliff. The odds of that were slim to none.

* * *

Skye realized what the men feared, and it fueled her terror. She could not get control of herself. One piece of her fought and screamed. Another part, the doctor part, told her all the reasons she had to calm down. But it wasn't working.

Dylan's voice, hard and sharp as the crack of a whip, cut through her turbulent thoughts. "Skye, stop!" It's what she needed. She quieted to a soft sobbing.

"He's there. Hanging on."

Ears still ringing from her own screams, she wasn't sure she heard correctly until Jesse's voice echoed up to them. "Mommy?" Her hands went to her mouth, and her wide, scared eyes flew to Dylan.

Dylan kept his voice gentle. "You ain't comin over here if you can't control yourself. I can't worry about you too.”

"Yes, yes. I understand." Skye pushed at Wade's arms.

"Skye, crawl low and slow. Ya got it?" Dylan stared, taking in her wild expression. “Skye.”

"I will. I understand. I'll be good. I promise." Skye would have agreed with anything to get to that edge.

Wade released her when Dylan nodded at him. With great care, Skye made her way to the rim as Dylan called down to Jesse.

Skye's stomach rolled when she peered over the edge. It was a long drop. There was no way one small ten-year-old boy would survive it.

Jesse clung to a protruding rock about ten feet below, arms wrapped tight around the stone. His fingers clawed the only solid thing available, but his feet dangled over air.

Skye whimpered.

"Steady." Dylan grabbed Skye's hand, squeezing it hard. It told her all she needed to know about his nerves.

Dylan looked at Wade and blew out a breath. Then said to Skye, "I am gonna need your help. You'll be okay?"

She squared her shoulders."Yes, just tell me what to do.”

"Okay. Wade and I are gonna lower to that ledge. We should be able to reach him from there. I think it'll hold. But if it doesn't, you know what you gotta do."

Skye's eyes filled as she shook her head. "Don't talk like that. Not now."

Dylan put a hand under her chin. His voice insistent. "Yes, now. You get in that Jeep, and you don't stop til you're at Tom's."

Skye raised a trembling hand to brush away a tear and nodded. "Okay, I will. I'll get help."

Dylan heaved a sigh. "If that shelf doesn't hold, we won't be here for anyone to help. I gotta know you'll be safe, that you'll go straight to Tom."

A sob escaped Skye. She scrubbed her eyes, she knew what Dylan needed to hear. "I will. I'll go straight there."

Skye grabbed Dylan's hand and searched his face. "Dylan? It'll be fine. Everything will be fine. Now go save our boy."

"Okay, lay here. We may need to pass Jesse up to you."

"Mommy?" Jesse’s sob echoed from below.

He was so small, so frightened. Skye squeezed her eyes shut and attempted to control her cold, trembling body. Finally, trusting her voice to sound strong for the boy, Skye called out. "Jesse, it's okay, baby. Hang on, they're coming. Dylan and Wade are coming to get you."

"Okay." His tiny, shaking voice trailed off.

The men talked to Jesse in a calm tone as they lowered themselves over the edge, telling Jesse how tough he was, reminding him of everything he had gone through and reassuring him he would make it through this too.

Everyone held their breath when they jumped the last few feet onto the ledge.

When it held, the adults slumped in relief. Dylan put a hand to his side and winced. The exertion clearly strained his injury.

But that was a problem for later. The first step was successful. The ledge supported Dylan and Wade, now it was time to save Jesse.

12

Reach

Wade and Dylan quickly assessed the situation. How stable was the small ledge they stood on? Would it hold all three of them? Wade's jaw tightened. It would have to. There was little time, the boy was tiring. He needed off that rock as fast as possible.

Wade laid on the ledge and inched his way closer to Jesse, kicking up dirt as he did. Dylan sat behind him, holding onto his legs. Wade needed him, it would be quite a reach to the boy.

Wade inched himself out far enough the entire top half of his sweaty body hung past the dirt-covered ledge, suspended in the air. His heart thumped against his ribs as he forced himself to stretch further and further out. The gap between Wade and Jesse almost closed.

Jesse's pale face went whiter as he looked from Wade to the ground far, far below.

"Don't look at that, Jesse," Wade said. "Look at me."

Jesse zeroed in on Wade's face.

"Good boy. Now reach out one of your hands."

Jesse swung his head back and forth so aggressively Wade worried for his safety. "No! No, I can't!"

"You can."

"Don't make me, please, don't make me." Jesse's fingers whitened on the stone as he gripped tighter.

Wade's body shook with the strain of staying horizontal over the drop for so long. If he didn't get Jesse off that rock soon, he wouldn't have the strength left to do so.

"Jesse, you're tougher than a hungry mountain lion. You ain't gonna let this little ole mountain beat you down now, are ya?”

Wade continued coaxing Jesse until the boy's hand loosened on the rock.

Wade heaved his body out a little more. Behind him, Dylan uttered a loud groan and scrambled to keep them both on the ledge. Wade’s heart sunk as his hands flailed in the air, the cliff too far behind to grab onto. When Dylan found his footing and steadied, Wade released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

I ain't doing that again.

Wade stared at Jesse. "Now, boy!"

Jesse's arm flew outward. Wade locked onto it. He wrapped his big hand around the boy's arm and shoulder, peeling him from the large stone.

Jesse latched himself to Wade, eyes bulging with fright. Wade couldn’t help but to bend downward. He put one hand against the shelf of the mountain and prayed his brother had the endurance to get through this.

* * *

The entire side of Dylan's body blazed with pain. The sudden addition of Jesse's weight taxed him. His arms became knotted ripples of muscle.

Jesse and Wade hovered over the edge, while Dylan struggled just to keep them there, to drag them back seemed impossible.

Dylan called himself every sort of name trying to pump himself up. It's just a man and a kid. You can do this.

"You got this, little brother?"

Dylan set his jaw, grinding his teeth. You're gonna do this, you ain't got a choice! He planted himself and leaned back, dragging his brother with him.

Dylan bellowed a string of curses along in a low groan as his world filled with red, burning pain. Inch by inch, he hauled his brother and Jesse up over the ledge. He felt the slice and pop of one, two, then several of his stitches.

Blood seeped then soaked the side of Dylan's shirt. There was a gasp from Skye above him.

Dylan ignored it. He ignored everything except the triumph he felt with each small millimeter he moved his brother.

At last, Wade was close enough he used his elbows and knees to muscle himself up. Lastly, he pulled Jesse over the ledge.

Jesse ran to Dylan and clung to him as the man tousled his hair and squeezed his shoulder.

Wade glanced at Dylan. "I had my doubts for a minute there."

Dylan grunted. "Only a minute? I must've done better than I thought."

The two brothers stared at each other before grasping each other's arms.

Wade looked Dylan over. "Ya look like crap."

"Let's just get this done."

They lifted Jesse onto Wade's shoulders. From there, Jesse reached up to Skye and was pulled to safety.

* * *

Trembling with relief, Skye wrapped her arms around Jesse's dirty body, holding him tight to her. Her sobs returned but this time because of her joy.

Jesse clenched Skye as they hugged and rocked, wadding her shirt in his hands as tears rolled down his face. "I'm sorry."

"Jesse, it wasn't your fault, it just crumbled. You're okay now. That's all that matters."

Jesse stood and awkwardly scrubbed his face. "I didn't mean to call you Mommy. That's what babies do."

"It's okay, honey," Skye reassured him, "I know it scared you."

"I was so scared. I thought I was a goner!"

"You're safe." Skye gave Jesse another hug before peeking over the edge again.

Wade knelt so Dylan could step on his shoulders. Shaking, Wade slowly rose. Dylan grabbed the lip of the cliff and pulled himself up. Not without cost, though. His face twisted even though Skye did her best to help him. Once on solid ground, Dylan bent holding his side.

Skye couldn't imagine the anguish this re-injury caused him. Watching his struggles as he dragged Wade and Jesse to safety had made her sick to her stomach. Dirt still caked her fingernails from gripping the grass as she had watched and wished there was a way she could help them.

Skye gasped at his blood-soaked shirt. "Oh, Dylan!"

"Let's get Wade up here, then we'll look at it," Dylan grunted as he lowered himself into position to haul Wade up.

"I'll help."

"You ain't strong enough."

"I just helped you." There was no way Skye would let Dylan do this by himself. "I can do something to help."

Dylan scooted to make room for her. The two reached down but were still short of spanning the gap to Wade.

"Jessie, get the blanket," Skye said. Jesse ran for it.

Wade looked up at them. "Uh, not sure the boy is gonna make it back with that. The ledge is feelin shaky."

"Jump!" Dylan ordered.

Wade leaped and grabbed onto Dylan and Skye's hands as part of the ledge crumbled. The weight was far more than Skye expected. She cried out as her arms exploded in pain, first from the jerk, then as they continued to stretch beyond their normal limits.

"Skye?" Dylan's eyes wavered between her and Wade.

"I can do this." Skye gritted her teeth. Even as she spoke, her half of Wade's brawny body unbalanced her, and she started to slide toward the cliff's edge.

Dylan swiftly moved one hand to grip Wade's arm below Skye's hold. Jesse leaped onto Skye's back for added weight and to offer what assistance he was able.

Once Skye felt secure, she glanced at Dylan. "I'm good now."

"Are you sure? We can't lose any more ground, I ain't gonna be able to -- to pull him up if we do." His voice broke.

"It's okay, Dylan. We can do this."

Dylan and Skye began to worm their way backward. Jesse took hold of Wade's shirt and pulled.

Once Wade was lifted high enough, he dragged himself onto solid ground. The four flopped back onto the grass, gasping.

Skye was the first one up, crawling to Dylan and examining his reopened knife wound.

Her face paled when she saw the blood soaking his shirt and dripping onto the green below him. Skye slowly peeled his t-shirt back to see what she already suspected, many of his stitches were ripped. Dylan had a hollow, bloody socket in his midsection.

Skye hadn't seen the injury the first time around, and it was more than she wanted to see now. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and sent Jesse for the cloth napkins she brought to the picnic. They would help stem the stream of fresh blood.

Wade knelt beside Skye and laid a hand on his brother's shoulder. Worry for Dylan covered his face.

13

Promises

Dylan grit his teeth as he tried to sit up. Skye put her hand to the middle of his broad chest and pushed.

"Stay down," she ordered.

Dylan winced and fell back. He suffered more than he was letting on if he obeyed without objection.

When Skye applied pressure to the jagged wound, Dylan closed his eyes and grunted his discomfort. It took some time, but the bleeding stopped.

Wade ripped the blanket into strips, and they used it as bandages. Then, Skye insisted Dylan rest before they started home.

After the break, Skye packed up the picnic supplies. "Wade, can you and Jesse carry this?"

"Sure thing."

She turned to Jesse. "You go with Wade. But don't get too far ahead of us, baby, we may need your help."

Jesse's nose and forehead crinkled. "You know I'm not a baby."

Skye hugged him and ruffled his hair before turning his face up to her, "What I know is that right now I can call you whatever I want. Baby." Then, as he rolled his eyes, she kissed the top of his head.

As Jesse and Wade moved away from her, she called out, "Wade, watch him!"

"Me? Don't worry. I ain't gonna let him fall over any cliffs."

Skye huffed and pasted her mouth shut. In her heightened emotional state, nothing helpful would come out of it.

"Your brother!" she grumbled to Dylan.

"Yeah, well, he already did his good deed. Seems he's only capable of one a day."

Skye laughed in agreement. It had been an enormous good deed, and she needed to be content with that.

Skye put her sore arms around Dylan to help him get up. Both of them let out a groan. Tremendous relief and gratitude flooded Skye's face. She tipped her face up to Dylan and said, "Thank you, Dylan, thank you so much!"

With a solemn glance, he nodded, acknowledging her appreciation. "I'm here. I'll always be here," he said, reminding her of the promise he made her after that first call to her father. She laid her head against him for a moment as they looked out over the view one more time.

The sun was setting. A bit of orange color lit up the sky, bathing the trees in that special glow that only happens in late autumn.

It's beautiful.

But it was as if Dylan looked at an entirely different scene. "I hate this place, I've always hated it, and now this!"

Skye raised her head and stared at him. Dylan almost trembled with strong emotion.

"Why? Dylan, you said it would be a fine place for a picnic."

"You seemed to want to come here."

"Not if you hate it." Skye tipped her head. "You come up here all the time."

"I come up here cause I can see the town, not cause I like it."

Skye glanced from one side of the overlook to the other. "Why do you despise it so much?"

Dylan twisted in her arms, working up courage, but his nerve left him.

He blew out a forceful sigh. "I just hate it, okay. Not everything needs a big discussion. I don't want to talk about it right now. Maybe someday, just not —“ He finished his sentence by rubbing the back of his neck as he shook his head.

Skye squeezed Dylan's arm. "It's okay. You can tell me when you're ready. No hurry. Now let's get home."

Dylan relaxed, and he pulled Skye a little closer to his side as they made their way down the path home.

After arriving, Skye got Dylan settled on the bed. "Who should we get to help with this? Since we don't know what we're doing." She waved her hand toward Dylan's side.

"Nah, no sense in that. Wade can handle it."

Skye settled her hands on her hips. "Dylan. Not to knock Wade's skills, but you need someone to examine this.”

"There ain't anybody. We were guessin then, and we'd be guessin now. No reason to drag someone else over here."

"Dylan!" Skye said but gave up when his steely gaze told her he'd decided. Throwing her hands in the air, she offered her services, such as they were.

But after seeing Dylan jerk with every bit of stone Wade fished out, Skye gave her weak knees a break and went to the living room to sit. A girl could only take so much.

Jesse looked fascinated and horrified as he watched the two men until Skye called him over to her. "How are you?" she asked as she turned him round to check.

"I got a couple scrapes." Safe, Jesse now felt rather manly about his dangerous adventure and pointed out his injuries with pride.

Skye played along with him. "Okay, well, we certainly don't want infection setting in these bad boys, we better clean them up."

Once everyone was patched and cleaned up, they came into the living room and sat down. Skye looked around the room, her eyes warm with appreciation they had all made it through another day.

"Until everyone is healed up, and I mean mended to my satisfaction, I want promises we will stay in and around this cabin. No matter what brilliant ideas I come up with!"

They all snickered and laughed but were sincere in the assurances they gave her.

14

Something About That Woman

The boy had long since gone to bed, and Wade was out on watch. Dylan sat in the living room, examining the smooth, light brown wood of his bow for any small cracks or twisting before waxing the string.

In the kitchen, Skye mixed up a batch of chocolate chip cookies as a surprise for Jesse with some chips Wade scrounged from one of the neighbors.

These last few days had been quiet ones. Dylan's side continued to heal. He stayed close to the house as he promised. He was eager to be well enough to get back to his routine and smart enough to know he wasn't ready yet.

The days restricted to the cabin brought him into closer contact with Skye, and the feelings he tried to tamp down stirred stronger in him. Dylan ducked his head as he glanced at Skye.

Something about the woman drew him back again and again. Dylan frowned and turned his attention back to his bow, determined to ignore her. It was nothing. They were cooped up in this tiny place was all. Sure, they talked a lot. But she was right here if he wanted to talk. And her, well, she yammered on all kinds of nonsense he couldn't get away from. Dylan smiled, remembering some of her earlier nonsense. It's not all that bad.

The light clang of metal bowls made Dylan, almost unwillingly, glanced her way again. Most of Skye's chestnut-brown hair lay in a long, low ponytail that lightly skimmed her back as she moved. Thin tendrils drifted against her neck and cheeks as she reached into an upper cupboard for some forgotten item.

Tonight, she wore a long, blue dress. Something about it reminded Dylan of clothing his grandmother would've worn. But it didn't seem matronly at all on Skye's generous curves. His gaze skimmed over her again. It looked dang fine was what it looked.

Skye confidently moved as she went about her work. Dylan wondered if that was what attracted him. It was a trait he admired. Even when the girl learned something new, she had this sure way of going about it. Like she just knew she would get the hang of it.

When Dylan first brought Skye to his cabin, he'd thought her confidence only a part of her unwillingness to acknowledge what went on around her. And Lord knew she liked to ignore troubles.

But he'd soon figured out it wasn't an over-confidence to her situation, but a certainty she would do her best. He admired that. He had from the beginning. Dylan's mind drifted to one of the first times he'd seen her.

He and Wade had been in town, leaned up against the rough brick exterior of the local diner watching the people of Colton go about their business. The scent of Salisbury steak wafted to Dylan. What he would've given for a little cash to sink his teeth into the rich meat and potatoes smothered with gravy. He'd been so hungry; he could almost taste it.

Bored or nervous, Dylan chewed at his thumbnail as Wade pointed out different people who amused him. Wade's laughter barked out, again and again, causing more than a few people to glance their way. Wade's laughter could carry a fair distance.

Dylan snorted his amusement over his brother's comments as he looked over the busy street. For them, coming to town held the same entertainment as going to a movie did for those with more money.

He and Wade usually stuck to the mountains, away from the judgmental eyes of the townsfolk. Though the Cole family had been around as long as the hills Dylan grew up in, their good reputation had waned several generations ago, and now, it was nonexistent.

Their Dad ended it.

Dylan noticed the anxious glances thrown their way. He looked at his brother and himself, seeing their lazy stance and torn clothing from the passersby's point of view.

They weren't doing anything to make the family's reputation any better, they never had.

Dylan lowered his head and practically snarled as he stared down a suit-clad man who challenged him with a long look. Only after the man tightened his grip on the woman beside him and hurried along was Dylan satisfied. He scoffed. Who'd want a skinny thing like that anyway?

Dylan sometimes wished the Coles weren't looked down on, but there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it. Colton branded Dylan and Wade troublemakers long ago, and it wasn't likely to change anytime soon. Only on the mountain did the world make any sense to them. There, they found freedom from petty laws they barely understood and a community that understood them.

Still, they needed to come down for supplies now and again, which was last week. This week they came about the sickness.

Word on the mountain was that there was one almighty flu fanning out across the area and it had the brothers curious. Now they were here, there was no doubt the rumors were true. Sick people formed a line out the Doc's office door at least twenty deep, and some looked like they were hanging on by a thread. Coughing, many sat on the ground, their weakened bodies bowed, as they waited.

Dylan watched as the townsfolk actively avoided looking at the long line of Doc Kinder’s patients. People were scared of the disease.

"We need to find out more about this flu," Dylan said, "so we can tell the others." Wade nodded in agreement.

It was then, the door to the coffee shop on the other side of the street burst open. Dylan pushed himself straighter against the wall.

It was her.

Skye didn't see him, but his eyes tracked her as she tapped her way down the sidewalk. Dylan didn't know what drew him. She wasn't the type of woman that usually caught his eye. He found high-heels ridiculous, her outfit too professional for his taste, and her face and hair overly made up. Still, he couldn't help wondering what a change in clothing and a little mussing up would do.

Wade noticed Dylan's unwavering stare Skye's way. "Little brother," he laughed, "that woman ain't for you."

Dylan sent Wade an irritated look before scraping his eyes over Skye again and turning for the sidewalk. "I can still look," Dylan mumbled as he stole one last glance over his shoulder. There was something about that woman.

The smack of a wooden spoon against the steel bowl drew Dylan's attention back to the present, and he smiled. Even then, he knew she was different.

15

Womanly Attention

Dylan ran his fingers down the smooth stock of his bow. Skye started to hum in the low-lit kitchen, and once again, his gaze moved from his task at hand to her. The homey scene seemed intimate and comforting.

There had never been a woman in this kitchen, or house, for that matter, before Skye. But Dylan found that he liked her here. Not that a woman had to be in the kitchen, he corrected himself, but if she stepped in, he sure wasn't one to kick her out. In fact, Dylan reckoned, Skye would be the one to shoo him out. He wouldn't mind a bit as long as he was able to sit right here and watch her.

Dylan realized there were technical terms for every step of the recipe she worked on. She had tried to tell him what they were. But he didn't know a spoon from a spatula. When he was cooking, he just picked whatever tool seemed handy, and he was fine keeping it that way.

His eyes trailed the woman as she scraped butter and sugar together. Her whole body moved with the force of the action, almost as if she were dancing.

The sharp crack of eggs and a gritty stirring as she beat them into the mixture came next. Dylan's hand ran along his arm as his eyes moved over her.

Skye picked up a little spoon and added a few small ingredients with a twist of her wrist. Flour required more effort to mix. Her slight arm muscle, along with the rest of her, swayed with every deep stir of the dough.

Lastly, she added chocolate, slipping a few of the chips between her plump lips. Dylan imagined the silky bitter-sweet morsels melting on her tongue. He'd shared a few with her when they hid the chocolate from Jesse.

Skye brought a dough-laden finger to her mouth for a final taste.

"Mm." A little smile curved her lips as she savored its sweetness.

After pushing the dough from the spoon to the pan in little clumps, she bent to gently slid the pan into the waiting oven. Hot air escaped the stove, blowing back her hair and warming her face.

Skye closed the oven door and stood. She scraped her finger through the dough again. Then raised it to her mouth and turned toward the living room.

Dylan's eyes locked with hers and held. Skye's eyes widened before she unknowingly returned Dylan's heavy look.

Dylan's world crashed to a halt in a way he had never before experienced. He wasn't sure he drew breath but didn't care. He didn't seem to need air. Just this, whatever this was.

Then Skye moved or blinked, he wasn't sure exactly what. The small movement broke their connection. Dylan's heart ached a little at the separation.

Dylan brought his hand to his chest and rubbed. He looked at the wood floor and swallowed a few times as he tried to compose himself. It took everything he had to stay rooted to this spot, not to look at her, not to go to her.

Dylan knew Skye still stared at him, he could sense it. Nervously, he scuffed his foot. I gotta get out of here. Dylan kept his head down and mumbled the need to check on Wade.

The door smacked behind him as he closed it harder than he intended. Dylan sagged against it. His hand strayed back to his thumping heart. Dylan laid his palm on the middle of his chest, feeling its frantic movement.

This new emotion shot to the very core of him. Desire was there, of that there was no doubt, but there was more. Something far deeper stirred in Dylan. Something he had never known before.

Dylan thought of how much brighter the house was now Skye was here, of how a helpless gesture from her had him by her side in an instant, of how he put himself in danger to keep her safe. It all led to this.

An emotion so raw, he felt vulnerable and exposed. Dylan didn't like it. It frightened him, though he would hardly admit that to himself.

I'm an idiot. Get hurt and have a little womanly attention, and I go all soft inside. Well, that ends today, I ain't allowing no more of it. Dylan pushed off the door and walked into the darkness sure that his strong will would put an end to all this nonsense.

But it wasn't the end of it. In the days that followed, Dylan found the sensation stayed with him. It burned a hole in him as sure as a living ember would. Even when he left the cabin, going far into the woods to escape Skye, she lingered in his mind. Dylan would think he had control only to find thoughts of her tumbling through his mind with no warning.

Some mornings he unconsciously delayed before escaping outside. Dylan often heard Wade snicker and realized he had been staring at Skye for too long. Angry, Dylan would bang out of the cabin, startling everyone.

For some men, love comes easy, an exhilarating experience that makes them want to share it with the world. But not for Dylan. He hated these feelings. He felt frustrated, out of control, a wild mess he no longer recognized and couldn't understand.

But as hard as Dylan fought it, more and more often, the cabin drew him -- to her. It wore at him and, try as he might, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

16

No Sense in Freezing

Skye stood in the kitchen precisely as Dylan left her, the cookie dough melting in her mouth. She stared at her bare feet. I swear my toes curled.

To see Dylan's thoughts revealed so openly on his face had been a shock. The man hardly expressed his feelings, and Skye barely understood him on a good day. She glanced at the door. Dylan's rushed exit told her how he felt about the lapse in his guard.

He had been acting a little strange. He showed up around the cabin more, but there always seemed to be a reason. Skye and Dylan got along better, but other than that little had changed.

Skye giggled. Strange was not exactly unusual for Dylan. He'd acted strangely before, and she never knew the reason. He wasn't easy to read. But she liked that. After spending years in college learning how to decode a person's behavior, it seemed refreshing to be around someone she wasn't always three steps ahead of. The surprise was part of his appeal -- most of the time.

Skye turned to take the baked cookies out of the oven. He was probably working through something. Between Dylan's confession of hating the overlook -- whatever that was about -- Jesse's near death, his own injury and the battle he had gone through, Dylan had to have a lot on his mind.

Two evenings later, the weather, which had already cooled off, got considerably colder. When the fire burned low toward morning, everyone shivered. Skye wanted one comfortable night.

She lit the black pot-bellied stove. Today was the coldest yet, so they expected the night to be more of the same. She and Jesse pulled the mattresses off the bed, onto the floor, closer to the stove.

Skye laid down and tucked a small blanket around first Jesse, then herself, then laid a larger one over the two of them and fell to sleep.

Dylan sat by the window and watched as Wade came in from the cold, stomping his feet and rubbing his arms.

Wade surveyed mattresses on the floor, Jesse and Skye asleep on them. "Looks like we're down to body heat."

Dylan returned his gaze to the scene outside the window. "Yeah, no sense in freezin alone, I guess. Not sure it'll be necessary to keep watch tonight, even the Sick and Infected should know to stay in from the cold."

"Yeah, let's board it all up and take turns dozing." After everything was done, Wade crawled into the makeshift bed on Jesse's side, turned his back to everyone and started snoring almost immediately.

Dylan shifted toward the sleeping trio, chewing his nail. Skye's dark hair fanned out against the white of her pillow. A pleasant expression covered her face as if all her troubles were gone for the night.

Dylan worried about his own problems. There wasn't a lot of bed left, and it would be close quarters if he laid down beside her. Things were bad enough for him as it was.

He eyed their old couch with distaste. He needed sleep, and that lumpy thing didn't allow much rest.

Dylan's eyes moved from the couch, to Skye, and out the window to scan the grounds. The couch, Skye, and the grounds became his routine for the next several minutes until he found his gaze lingering on Skye longer than the others. Dylan scolded himself, calling himself every kind of fool. He'd spent the last two days putting distance between himself and the woman, and here he was back where he started. Dylan rubbed his chest in that place that seemed to ache just for her.

His eyes drifted back to Skye. How could he resist?

Dylan tapped Wade on the shoulder, letting him know it was his turn to keep an ear open for anything unusual. Wade snorted and turned, but he didn't snore again. He was good.

Dylan slipped into the bed beside Skye. She stirred and turned toward Dylan but didn't wake up. Her dark lashes lay against her pale skin, and a light rose color touched her cheeks. Skye quietly inhaled and exhaled. It calmed Dylan's thumping heart, and he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Skye woke slowly, surprisingly warm. Strong arms surrounded her, her head comfortable against a firm chest, tucked beneath someone's chin. Half-asleep and for a minute in another place and time, Skye snuggled and tightened her arms.

She inhaled, searching for the scent of him, but something was off. This man smelled of wood fire and deep forests, not the expensive cologne Skye always bought for him.

These muscles were too defined, the arms holding her too long. And her husband never liked laying together like this. He preferred her to stay on her own side of the bed.

Skye blinked her eyes open and looked up. A stubbled chin. His head tipped toward hers, dark hair and tanned skin showing off blue eyes.

A million memories of her husband, good and bad, passed through Skye's mind as she fully woke and remembered the last time she slept content in a man's arms. Tears filled her eyes as Skye recalled the sad ending to that particular story.

Now she laid here, arms around Dylan, making things awkward for both of them.

"Dylan!" Skye's face reddened as she tried to pull away from him. "Umm...so sorry."

"Don't apologize. Best mornin I've had in a while now." He smiled and tightened his hand holding her waist to stop her from moving too far away.

Skye winced as old memories of her less gentle ex continued to tumble through her mind. "No! Don't." Skye's tone sounded unusually sharp as she pushed further away.

Dylan tensed. He squinted as a shutter came down over his eyes. Skye's brow crinkled, and she bit her lip as she returned her hand to his chest. "No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything. I was just -- just not awake yet."

Dylan jerked his head in some semblance of a nod and yanked his arm from her as he jumped up from the mattress.

Skye looked down. Well, that just made it worse.

"Dylan?" she called out, but he was already half-way out the door. There was no answer.

Skye sighed and flopped over onto her back and directly into the giggling, smirking faces of Jesse and Wade. Skye rolled her eyes and stood, heading for the isolation of the bathroom.

17

Ain’t Any Good

Skye and Jesse continued their training on target practice and foraging wild food. The morning tired her, and Skye needed a break. She looked over the novels in the Cole's tiny library. It was clear they were not big readers, but they had a few How-To books that seemed promising.

Skye pulled out a book on water collection. Her training needed to include anything and everything that could help her through the upcoming years. This may just be what saved her one day.

Skye took the volume outside, settling back against the rough bark of a large tree. The cold night had brought a beautiful, sunny morning, and though a slight chill hung in the air, it wasn't so much she was uncomfortable.

Dylan and Wade were busy with projects of their own, and Jesse was exploring to the side of the house whenever the men didn't call the boy over for his help. From where she sat, Skye could keep an eye on Jesse. It still made her nervous when he was out of her sight.

A few pages into the instruction manual and Skye had a new appreciation of Wade's roof fascination. It was part of their water collection system. Having lived where a public water system had always been available, she'd never really thought a lot about how the water got to her. She'd just turned on the tap, and it poured out, pretty much whenever she needed it. But here they didn't have that luxury, so the ability to get water depended mostly on Wade's creation.

She glanced from the book's diagram to the cabin's roof and gutters, then back to the book again. Skye traced the picture of the holding tank as she studied the pipes attached to their own reservoir of water. Wade had followed the manual to the letter. It was perfect.

What an ingenious system!

A sharp clanging and a few loud curses came from Dylan as he worked under his old truck. Though he had a new one, he still tinkered with the red one from time to time.

Skye bit the inside of her cheek as she debated the pros and cons of approaching Dylan. After this morning, she was nervous, but she had to face him sometime.

She stood, called out to Jesse and pointed to her destination, "Jesse, stay in the yard. I will be right over here."

"I know," Jesse said, his words drawn-out and resigned.

* * *

Dylan watched Skye's feet as she approached the truck and closed his eyes, sighing. He wanted... needed a little breathing room. The emotions twisting through him were bad enough without her being near him.

Skye stopped at the side of the truck, then knelt down and stuck her head under it to peer at Dylan. "What are you working on?"

"Brakes." When Skye seemed to want more, he asked, "What've you been up to?"

"I'm reading a book about the water collection thing you have going on up there on the roof, I had no idea. It's a great system."

Dylan banged on the truck a couple more times. "Crazy gettin it all in place, but it works real good."

"I bet. I just hadn't -- I don't know -- noticed. Something else for me to learn." Skye laughed. "Sometimes, It seems like I am getting another college education living up here."

Dylan snorted and hammered the truck again.

Silence. Maybe she would go away.

Instead, Skye dropped down and scooted under the vehicle, settling beside him.

No, clearly not.

Hopes dashed, Dylan tried a different tactic. He put Skye to work. "Can you hand me that wrench stickin outta the toolbox there?"

Skye's brows came together as she reached toward the pile of tools. She hesitated a moment before choosing one and handing it over, studying Dylan's face as she gave it to him. When he took it without complaints, she smiled.

Dylan worked on the brakes without a word, hoping Skye would get bored and leave. No doubt she was feeling bad about this morning and trying to make up for it, but he wasn't in the mood.

When there was a break in his clanging, Skye took her hands from her ears and asked, "Can I help?"

"Nope."

"I can help. You can teach me."

"Nah, ya can't. Go read."

"Dylan, don't be rude. Is it this morning? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -- to be insensitive."

"I ain't bein rude. I don't want to talk about this. You wanted to read. Go read."

Skye glanced away from him to the other end of the truck but didn't move. He was trying so hard, couldn't she be happy with that?

Dylan gritted his teeth, and as if dealing with a small child, he said, "There's nothing wrong, Skye. We're all good."

"We're good?" She stared, obviously not believing him.

"Yeah. Good." He stared right back. It was, after all, his specialty.

Skye broke first, turning her head away and heaving a little sigh. "Okay. I have the ingredients for some apple muffins. I guess I'll go make those."

Apple muffins were Dylan's favorite, and she knew it. He watched her wiggle herself back out from under the truck and head to the house.

Dylan sighed. She must feel pretty bad. Whatever was going on here wasn't any good for either one of them. Something needed to be done to give them both some peace.

Soon, the enticing smell of baking muffins drew Dylan, almost against his will, into the cabin. When he entered the house, he saw Skye dealing with the hot little pieces of bread. Without speaking, he walked over and pulled them from the pan for her. He took an apple muffin for himself and sat it on the table, waiting for it to cool as he sat down in one of the kitchen chairs.

Skye poured herself a glass of water and held the pitcher up with an inquiring look. At his nod, she filled one for him and sat down on the opposite side of the table.

Dylan sighed and rubbed his hand over his face, then looked back at Skye. "Ya know, I been thinking. I could clean out the cabin next door if you'd like."

A confused look covered Skye's face as she sipped her water. "What for?"

"For you to live in."

18

Burdens

Skye blinked a couple of times. "For me to live in?"

What is he saying? A buzzing started in her head, and she swallowed hard as she realized. This was her worst nightmare -- to be cast out. She'd held herself back from even thinking about any feelings for Dylan because of this very thing, and here it was happening anyway.

Dylan glanced down at the shoe he scraped along the floor. "It'd give everyone more room. Won't get in each other's way so much."

"And Jesse? What about him?" Skye kept her voice calm, but inside a fire flickered and grew.

"Well, I reckoned he would be with you. He needs you."

So Jesse's out too. "If this was what you planned on doing, why didn't you just leave me with Tom and Tricia?" Skye clenched her teeth as she stared at him.

Dylan's head came up. "I didn't want you that far away. I can't protect you there." His tone was matter-of-fact.

Skye ran a hand down her hip before curling her fingers into a fist. "So let me understand this. You come after me when I headed to Ohio and shot down Tom's invitation for Jesse and me to stay there because you didn't want us that far away. Yet now, we are getting into each other's way, and you want me out."

Skye slapped her flat hand on the table as fear built, and self-control snapped. Dylan winced, but Skye didn't care. Just when Skye thought she and Jesse were safe, had found a home. She'd been sure this day would never come, that Dylan would never order her gone, yet here they were.

Skye tried to check herself. She didn't know enough to keep Jesse alive. Their time on the road proved that. She should be on her knees, begging Dylan to stay instead of working herself up to a boil.

But Skye had been that woman before, she wasn't now. This was more than Skye could take. Her frantic mind screamed that Dylan was unfair to put her in this precarious position.

She leaned toward him. "Sometimes, you try my patience to the very limit. You're worse than that little boy out there!" Skye's chair scraped against the kitchen floor as she suddenly stood, then stalked toward the door.

"No! Oh, no!" Skye muttered as she rounded back on Dylan, her hurt, fear, and anger continuing to build. Her voice rose with every word. "How did this become about you, and what you want? What about what Jesse wants and needs or even Wade? What about me? But we don't count? It just about you?"

Dylan replied in the only manner he knew when confronted with fury, the way his life trained him to respond. All his pent-up frustration and wrath came pouring out, directly at Skye.

He stood so fast, his chair launched across the room, crashing into the wall behind him. One large step brought him to Skye, his fierce face inches from hers. "I can't do this friend thing anymore! If that makes it all about me then fine, that's what it is, but I ain't gonna do it!"

Skye could feel Dylan's tightly controlled power. His body rigid as he struggled to hold the worst of his anger in check. Taken aback by his aggression, Skye took a step away from him. Her own ire cooled slightly as her clinical side reminded her this was the only way he knew how to respond.

Skye wasn't afraid. Dylan would never physically hurt her. Still, this level of fury was more intense than she had thought him capable. Skye released a shaky breath to help calm herself but found the pain of him trying to get rid of her took over once again.

"Can't do what, Dylan?" Skye asked. "What you promised me you would do? Is that done now? You will stick us in that cabin to be rid of us?"

Dylan's voice turned to ice. "I'll still take care of you, but I don't want to see you every day!"

Color drained from Skye's face, and air rushed from her lungs. Her eyes swept his features as she imagined the days without him, and the full weight of her feelings settled on her. There was no doubt in her mind her refusal to acknowledge her emotions pushed him to this point. A sob broke. What have I done?

Skye entreated him, holding a hand out to him. "I'm sorry, Dylan. This is my fault. I thought being friends was better for us, for all of us. Friends --"

"No! What can't you understand? I said, I ain't. Now get packed! You want to go to Tom's? That’s where I'll take ya," Dylan waved his hand, dismissing her.

"Dylan --"

"I ain't hearin ya. Just do what I said."

Dylan's unwillingness to listen fired Skye up again. "You rude, moronic brute! Fine, I'll just go. I'm sorry we have been such a burden to you!" She turned away from him and grabbed her backpack off the floor. Skye pressed her lips together and shoved clothes into it.

* * *

Dylan watched her pack, his shoulders tightening with every item she threw in the bag. Before he knew what he was doing, he murmured, "No."

Skye stopped for a moment. Hand trembling, she brought it to her forehead. "This is what you want, Dylan. Maybe you’re right, maybe it is what you -- we all -- need."

She picked up a shirt and thrust it into her full pack.

"I said no!" Dylan was aware he was confused, a mess. This is what his feelings for her had brought him to. He needed her gone, he needed her here. Nothing made sense.

* * *

Skye paused as Dylan roared the words, her insides chilled. She zipped her case. Dylan reached around her and tore the bag from her hands, throwing it behind him. It sailed across the room then bumped and crashed to a halt.

Skye said nothing but turned to retrieve the backpack. Dylan blocked her. When she tried to go around him, he boxed her between himself and the bed. When Skye attempted a third time, Dylan took a step closer. It was impossible for her to move.

"Back up," Skye ordered. "Let me out!"

Dylan's raw anger exploding in front of her took her back to a place she hadn't been in a long time. It frightened her.

Her hands smacked his hard chest. Her bracelets jangled against her arm when she pushed him again. She demanded space. He became an immovable stone.

* * *

Dylan's anger blazed, jumbled with several emotions he couldn't name. He didn't like it. He also didn't like her anger.

First, Skye hated his suggestion, now she wanted it. She rejected him. Again.

Dylan's chest puffed as Skye beat and pushed on it. He was so intent on keeping her here, he didn't see the flash of fear in her eyes. He scraped his shoe the smallest bit forward, throwing her off-balance.

"Stop. Packing." He brought two fingers to her shoulder and slowly pushed against her.

* * *

Skye went down in an instant, bouncing once as she landed, then sitting motionless. Her anger seemed to have burned away all her strength, leaving sadness in its place.

"Dylan." Skye sounded tired. "What do you want?"

Dylan's glare turned into something else, something like longing.

He reached for Skye as if appealing on some level his words were unable to reach. Dylan stopped himself. He abruptly turned from her, striding toward the door.

Soft and gentle, Skye's voice came to Dylan. His hand stayed on the handle of the front door.

"Dylan, what do you want?"

Dylan hung his head, uttering a low groan. When he turned back to her, it was not because he wanted to. It was because he had to.

Those first words had been a mistake. Dylan had known it the instant they left his lips. The shock on her face had told him. Along with the weeping hole that suddenly appeared in his heart at the thought of Skye leaving him.

Hearing the words aloud, Dylan was sure the agony of Skye leaving would be far worse than the pain of seeing her every day. The second she'd turned her back to him, he'd felt abandoned.

Abandonment and Dylan didn't get along well. He had to put a stop to it.

Now her soft words made their way to him, asking the question he'd been afraid to ask himself. It took only a second to return to her.

Dylan was careful, gentle as he put one hand along her cheek and the other to the small of her back. He tugged her closer. Skye reached up, caressing the back of his neck. This felt right, perfect even.

Dylan tipped Skye's face up toward his and poured everything he couldn't say aloud through his gaze. Eyes locked, Skye and Dylan searched each other for the answers they couldn't find inside themselves. Skye's heartbeat thundered below his fingertips as he slid his hand over her neck. His own began to roar along with hers.

Skye's surprise quickly turned into acceptance. Her eyes shone as she leaned into Dylan. Skye moved her hand to the top of his arm and pushed herself up to bring her lips closer to his.

Everything Dylan wanted was in his arms, yet he still could not trust it. He would rather deal with the situation as it had been then the way it could be. If, after this, she rejected him another time, his heart would not only be missing a piece, it would be entirely broken.

If this kiss happened, it might be his undoing -- an ending, not a beginning.

He needed to leave. "No." Softly, as he gave her one last slow stroke. "No, we can't."

Dylan turned from her, looking over his shoulder once before going out of the cabin door. Skye knelt on the bed; arms wrapped around herself. Tears rolled down her face.

19

Words

Jesse knelt on the ground, making dirt ramps for his cars when Dylan and Skye began to shout. He looked up and frowned. There'd been lots of shouting in the house he grew up in, but Skye didn't scream, she talked.

Jesse tipped his head and tried to listen. What were they so angry about? But even though the voices got louder, he couldn't make out the words through the closed windows.

A crash had him bolting upright, stomach tense.

There was no hurt cry, only yelling. But when the second crash came, Jesse started toward the front door. Wade stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Jesse tried to shake him off, but Wade held firm. Jesse scowled at Wade. Skye might need him.

"I know, boy," said Wade, "I don't like it either, but they need to have their say, uninterrupted. It's been comin for a while now."

Jesse pressed his lips together and turned back, staring at the front door of the little cabin. He willed them to stop arguing and come out.

"Ya know, Dylan wouldn't ever hurt Skye, right?"

Jesse shrugged. As far as he had seen in his short life, it was more likely than not that a man would hurt a woman. The boy's hands curled into fists if Skye cried out he would go in there no matter what Wade did.

Wade crouched on the ground and peered at Jesse's face. "A good man never hits his woman, and Dylan is a good man."

Jesse nodded his agreement. He believed that. After everything Dylan did for him, he was more than good.

Wade looked over at the cabin which had gotten quieter now. "That woman is the other side of him. He just doesn't know it yet."

Jesse scoffed and rolled his eyes. He thought that was just about the stupidest thing he ever heard. What was Wade talking about?

Wade barked out a laugh. "Don't worry, boy, your day's comin."

Wade stood and let out a long, low whistle as Dylan left the house and headed out to the woods. Dylan didn't give either of them so much as a glance, he'd been too busy wiping away tears.

Jesse tugged at Wade's hand again, but Wade still held fast. "A couple more minutes. Let her have some time."

When Wade let go, Jesse ran as fast as he could to the cabin, stopping inside the door. Skye used a straw broom to sweep glass from the floor.

Jesse's gaze rolled over her and the broken glass. "You okay?" he asked.

Skye nodded. "Yep, I'm fine, but a hug would be nice."

Jesse let out a breath, stepped over the glass and put his arms around her.

"It was really loud." His voice broke.

Skye stroked Jesse's hair. "I'm sorry it must have been scary for you."

"I wasn't scared. I don't get scared!" Jesse hesitated a moment. "Well, unless I fall off a cliff."

Skye dutifully acknowledged his bravery. "It was just a lot of words. We weren't happy with each other. We should have handled it better, but no one got hurt."

"Dylan wouldn't hurt you." Jesse's tone was serious.

"Oh, I know, I was talking about me hurting him." Skye tickled Jesse, and they laughed. Skye changed the subject, "Hey, how about a muffin?"

When Jesse enthusiastically nodded, she plated one each for him and herself.

Around a mouthful, Jesse said, "Wade said something stupid."

"Um, imagine that. What did he say?"

"He said you're the other side of Dylan, and he doesn't know it yet." Jesse laughed, choked on his muffin and took a drink of his water. "Isn't that the stupidest thing you ever heard?"

Skye didn't answer. Instead, she laid her chin on her hand and stared at the door Dylan had walked out. She'd tried to stifle whatever she and Dylan felt for each other and for a good reason. The world was in chaos, their lives were in turmoil, with all the threats surrounding them each day could be their last.

But she could make those same arguments for them to allow their feelings freedom. And Skye was pretty sure where that freedom would take them. At least on her side. She'd never felt this deeply about anyone.

Wade wasn't as stupid as Jesse thought.

Life could be short or long, just like it always had been. Whatever it was, she wanted to spend it with Dylan.

She'd put her heart on hold long enough. Now she needed to figure out how to get that stubborn man to come to his senses too.

20

Crazy Out of his Mind

Wade was aware he didn't know much about emotions, but he did remember the first time he fell in love. He'd been confused and terrified as a demented bear. No one wanted to be around him.

Wade hadn't even understood what the emotion was. He'd never felt anything so pure and light before, and it sat oddly within him. For him, love came wrapped in hurt, anger, and pain. Without those, Wade hadn't known what to call it.

Crazy, out of his mind, and out of control, is how he felt. The restraint that took so much to hang on to was gone, and he'd found himself doing stupid things, good and bad, to please the woman holding his affection. It had deeply frightened Wade. He imagined Dylan was going through this now, and he pitied his little brother.

Wade saw this coming for a while. From the moment the world changed, from the moment the girl Dylan dragged him to town for a peek at showed up on the side of the road. Once that girl climbed in the big, red truck, she wasn't going anywhere. Wade knew it. Dylan couldn't let her.

The two of them pushed and pulled, toward and away from each other ever since. With Dylan as confused as Wade had been.

Wade pushed aside a low tree branch and started through the tree line, shaking his head. The difference was Dylan had found himself a good woman.

Maybe when people came from a background like theirs, this love thing came over a person worse. He didn't know, but what he did know was that he needed to talk with his brother.

Wade followed Dylan's trail. Even though he wasn't as skilled at tracking as Dylan was, he got by. And Dylan wasn't hiding his tracks today. He found his brother sitting on a large, old log, picking at his crossbow. Dylan lifted his head and stared at him.

"Hey, brother." Wade greeted him, scraping his foot against the forest floor. It was a bit awkward now he stood face to face with Dylan. "I just came out here to see how you were doin."

"Yeah, I heard you comin since you hit the tree line."

Wade scoffed. He looked back the way he'd come, hoping that wasn't actually the case, though he wouldn't have been surprised if it was. He cleared his throat and repeated, "Well, I just thought I'd see how you're doin, is all."

Dylan snapped his answer. "I know what you came out here for, and I ain't hearin it."

"Okay, sure. I'll just keep company then, sit a spell." Wade lowered himself to the other end of the log. He launched into a detailed explanation of a new waste compost he wanted to build.

After a while, Wade's jabbering had the desired effect, Dylan heaved a great sigh. "Just say what you came out here to say."

A smile lit up Wade’s face. He had some fine big brother advice. Wade told Dylan how his first love made him feel and how, even if she hadn't been wrong for him, he would've messed it all up because he didn't know what he was doing. When Dylan responded, it was not the way Wade expected.

"Wade, what does that have to do with me?" Dylan waved his hand, dismissing the story.

Wade sat back. "Cause, you got feelings for that girl. She's got you all confused and riled up."

Dylan scoffed. "I ain't confused. I care about her, same as you do. Same as I do for Jesse." Dylan shook his head. "That's not the part I'm riled up about. And she ain't a girl to be trifled with, it'd mess up the whole family."

Wade threw his head back, laughing. "You think you're feelin this bad because of a lack of birds and bees action. Oh no, D, you know better than that. You're in love with that girl."

Dylan turned away. "Even if I were, it wouldn't matter. It's like you said way back in the beginning, she ain't for me."

Wade ran a hand over his chin. "If that was true then, it ain't now. Everything's changed. If you want that girl and she wants you, then it seems to reason, she's for you."

"Thought you heard that fight." Rude, moronic brute still rang through Dylan's mind. "Didn't you hear her? She don't want me."

"Umph, we talkin bout the same girl here, bro? Since when did a little name-calling get ya down?" Wade chuckled. "Maybe she was just trying out a little love talk on ya."

Wade's attempt to lighten the mood worked, and though Dylan scoffed at him, he smiled.

Wade patted Dylan's arm. "You waited a while to find yourself a woman. And Skye, she's a good one. She's good for you, good for us all. Somehow we ended up with a little family, and I like it. This is the best we've ever had it." Wade stared at Dylan. "I know this must be hitting ya pretty hard. It seems strange and almost wrong, but it ain't. She and that boy are one of the few rights we've had. Don't blow this. We need her."

Dylan gave his brother a long look before getting up and walking deeper into the trees, heading for his forest sanctuary.

* * *

Dylan knew Wade was right about one thing. This was the best they've had it, maybe that's why he was afraid to face what he felt and try for more. But he and Skye needed to do something. Friends wasn't working -- it wasn't working at all.

So that meant Skye leaving. Which made her angry, and he rejected as soon as he suggested it or...

Dylan heaved a sigh, attempting to release the tight band around his chest. He ran a hand over his face. If everything else was out of the question, he must do the only thing left.

Well, he would try and see where it took them.

Dylan bit his lips together a few times and looked to the treetops. After the way he left her, she might never talk to him again. He had no choice but to do whatever it took to get back in her good graces.

He only hoped he could.

21

A Different Man

Calvin whistled as he walked back to the car from his bathroom break at the side of the road. He knew they were getting close. They had to be.

There were only three towns in this area, and they already visited two. The first one was deserted except for a few Sick ready to croak. So, they had helped them along to the great beyond and used them for target practice.

The next town had a few surviving healthy. The townsfolk had barricaded the village as if that would stop Calvin and his little gang. It only made the already angry Calvin angrier.

He, Pete, and Tony chased down those healthy and had a good, old time. One Calvin would remember for an age. They'd even left a few alive, in case he and his men wanted to revisit.

Calvin put a hand to his aching head, too much drinking last night had him suffering today. He walked over to the car, no running for him today.

His hand tightened on the car handle when he saw it. A green minivan identical to the make and model of one he used to own. Before.

Calvin's thoughts shot straight back to the Before. He stood beside his wife as they deliberated the car's merits. His beautiful Michelle, his sun, and moon. If she said a minivan was what they needed for their growing family, then a minivan was what they would get.

Ten years and four boys later, the girl Michelle dreamed of finally arrived. That lovely little girl so full of light and energy was the first to waste away from this horrifying disease. None of his loved ones went easily, each turned into their own kind of pitiable monster.

After watching all her children pass, Michelle's grief turned inward. She became a shell of a person even before her first cough. She'd looked at Calvin, her tear-filled eyes wide, and said she was sorry. From that moment to the moment she closed her eyes for the last time, she cried. To this day, Calvin didn't know what she apologized for.

Calvin watched over every one of them, taking in any frightened, pain-filled look and each cry of confusion and despair. He tended to their every need. Because that is what good fathers did. They protected and cared for their families. Only, he reminded himself daily, he hadn't. It didn't matter to him that he couldn't. He failed, and they died.

When it was all over, Calvin was a different man. A maddened, hate-filled man, something his loving wife would never have recognized. The sight would have taken her to her grave if she hadn't already been there.

Every man still holding a wife or child became his enemy. As he sought peace from his pain, Calvin separated himself from the more polite society he was used to and found the unrestrained. People that would not only let him be the new man he was but took joy in his exploration. That was where he met Pete and Tony.

Calvin shook his head, tucking those memories of his family as far back into his brain as possible. Thoughts of Michelle could ruin his plans, and he didn't want them ruined. They were about an hour out of Colton. He held high hopes for it.

* * *

Frankie trudged to the bar as the black Lexus pulled up alongside him. Nowadays, he usually went to the tree line to watch the rare car pass by, trying to decide if its passengers were trouble or not, but today he had a powerful thirst. Frankie made a habit of stocking up the house with booze from one of the many nearby bars. But he failed to notice his dwindling supply and run totally out. And that would not do.

His gut twitched a little as he turned and looked at the car and the three men inside. Two of the men were definitely bruisers. Though he couldn't see it, Frankie would bet a bottle of rum at least one of them held a gun on him. The driver looked like a car salesman. Frankie would have dismissed him on sight, except for the hard glint in his eyes.

Frankie reckoned he was in this now and decided to play the good, ole boy. "Hey fellas, how can I help ya?"

The driver spoke, identifying himself as the brains of the group. "We've been looking for some friends of ours, with all the chaos we've lost touch. Could you help us out?"

Oh yeah, sure, your friends. Frankie barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "I'll sure help ya in whatever way I can."

"I'm looking for a woman that drives a sky-blue Jeep and has a kid with her, and two men in a big black Ford. Have you seen them around here?"

Frankie couldn't have been more surprised to hear those words come out of the man's mouth. Frankie's face gave him away, first with the startle then a hard scowl. He had a decision to make. He sized the men up again. These boys may be just what he needed to make things square with the Coles. "What do ya want them for?"

"We need to teach them a lesson," Calvin said a smirk on his face.

Frankie nodded.

The man in the backseat growled out, "The boy is mine."

"No," Frankie said, "the boy is mine. Literally."

Tony scowled. "He's fallen into some bad company."

"Yeah," Frankie agreed, "he has."

Calvin eyed the two. "Tony there is a little riled up. The boy cut him, and he isn't likely to walk right again."

"He did?" Frankie felt a bit of pride for the boy. He hadn't known the little pansy had it in him.

"Look," said Frankie leaning down on the car. "I pretty much know where they are, and I'm more than willing to help you. I want them erased from this earth, but the boy -- he is mine. They stole him from me, and when this is over, I want him alive and unharmed." He nervously glanced back at the hard-as-steel Tony when he growled. "Relatively. I guess you deserve to get a coupla licks in but no permanent damage."

Tony seemed somewhat appeased by Frankie's permission. And if a few shots at Jesse satisfied Tony, it was better than what the man initially intended. Besides, Jesse gave the man a life-long hurt, so he was owed a couple of licks. And if there was one thing his mama always said, it was that a boy needed a good beating now and then. Still, Frankie felt a bit queasy at the idea.

Calvin looked at Tony in the rearview mirror. Tony didn't reply, but he didn't object either. "Pete, squeeze in the back. We will let our new friend here ride shotgun."

Frankie slid into the front passenger's seat; sure his luck would change now. "Just one thing, I have a powerful thirst, and there's a bar just up the road a piece."

"Say no more, new friend!" Calvin said, "We are never opposed to a good drink, or two, or more. And we need to celebrate our new-found acquaintance. To the bar, it is!"

Frankie twisted down in his seat, getting comfortable. Yep, things were going his way now.

22

Salvation

It was one thing to resolve something in their hearts when away from the problem and another to open their problem when their heart was standing right in front of them. Dylan and Skye thought of a million ways to start this relationship, but every time lost the nerve to do so.

So, they stayed away from each other most of the day.

Dylan dragged himself back to the cabin that evening still undecided on what course to take. Skye made herself busy as soon as she heard Dylan's footsteps scuff across the wood porch. A quick glance at each other and an unspoken truce took place. No one said a word about the fight.

Skye gave Dylan the space she assumed he wanted and stayed on the other side of the room. But the one-room house was small, so they were still within sight, if not actual arm's length of one another at all times.

As the evening wore on, Dylan made his way to Skye's side of the room. He dropped down on the couch beside her and waited. When Skye didn't object to his presence, and Dylan settled in.

He glanced at Skye. She seemed happy. Here he sat picking at his nails, and she was lighting up the room with her smile.

It was clear Dylan was trying something new in their relationship. He was always attentive to her, but tonight he upped his game. After Skye unknowingly gave a small, helpless gesture struggling with a jar in the kitchen, he rushed to her side to help.

After opening the jar, Dylan and Skye returned to the couch. When he sat, he hauled in a huge breath and laid his arm across Skye's shoulders.

She stilled. Dylan waited only a moment for any reluctance on her part. When he was sure she was breathing again, he lowered his hand down Skye's back to her waist and pulled her closer to him.

Jesse's eye's widened, and so did his mouth. He was ready to burst until he got a soft whack and a stern shake of the head from Wade.

* * *

Skye's heart thundered at Dylan's touch. So many feelings raced through her, but the only thing she cared about was the fierce protection in Dylan's eyes. She glanced up at him from under her lashes, offering a radiant smile, showing Dylan her joy at the affection he showed.

Finally. The thought surprised Skye. It had been her who held back the relationship. She hadn't realized how much she yearned for this.

Skye snuggled a little closer to Dylan as talk swirled around her. She almost giggled. As was usually the case in a situation like this, everyone continued the conversation as if nothing unusual happened. Except for Jesse, he kept glancing their way, amusement covering his face. Skye caught his eye and gave the boy a wink. Jesse winked back and gave her a thumbs up.

After a while, Skye cleared her fuzzy head and paid attention to Dylan and Wade's conversation. Winter planning was the topic at hand. In this new reality, meals took intense preparation. A stocked pantry could take months to plan and execute.

The houses around them had been emptied out. In addition, some supplies were always difficult to find on the mountain. Fresh and frozen food was gone. Surrounding gardens had become thin, other than a late crop of root vegetables and the occasional overlooked squash.

Winter was on its way. They needed to go further out for the remaining supplies before it was too late. If they didn’t, they could starve. Personal feelings were wonderful, so was eating. The Cole household had been eating well. They wanted to keep it that way.

Skye looked from Dylan to Wade. "You don't think we're set for the winter? After all that canned food we found and the stuff we canned ourselves?" She waved toward the extra storage space the men built to hold it all.

"We have a lot of cans, no doubt about that," Wade said, "and with Dylan's hunting, we should be good. But it needs to last through the spring. Til we get a new garden going. I think we need to make a run to a big store or distribution center for some other things before winter comes."

Dylan nodded. "I'll ask around and see what'll be the best one to try. Someone might know somethin."

'I'll practice canning with the vegetables you brought in today,” Skye said. “I appreciate the training, but I want to try it by myself, so I'll be ready for next year."

"I wanna forage with Dylan tomorrow," Jesse said not wanting to be left out of the action. Skye smiled at Jesse. Stalking anything, beast or vegetable, in the forest with Dylan was fast becoming one of Jesse’s favorite things to do.

"Remember," Wade repeated the same instruction he gave with every fruit and vegetable they found, "when you’re chopping up the vegetables, keep the seeds." One of the problems they faced was that most seeds didn't reproduce properly anymore, so Wade hoped some of what they found were heirloom seeds.

Agriculture was new to Skye, and she had been unaware there was a difference between any kinds of seeds. But now she had been carefully educated that it was heirloom seeds most likely to give a dependable crop.

"Save the seeds, save the seeds," Jesse chanted as if it were a song. The adults laughed at his antics.

Dylan's deep laughter drew Skye's attention. Her gaze moved from Jesse to the man beside her. Their eyes met, Dylan's bold gaze holding hers until she blushed and looked away. His fingers tightened at her side.

Dylan changed the topic of conversation. "While I was out, I looked up the neighbors. No one in this area, has been sick or died in the last week or so. Maybe this thing is dying down a bit."

"That would be wonderful!" Skye said.

Casualties well over the seventy percent predicted by Disease Control had decimated the mountain. And it was better off than the towns. Those on the mountain had done everything they could to protect themselves from those infected. It led to some ingenious arrangements for helping others.

Skye had never seen such generous people. They shared help and supplies, often letting each other know where a needed item could be located.

When Skye mentioned this must be what it was like in the early days of the settlers, Dylan assured her it was always this way on their mountain.

When it seemed the essential issues were discussed, Skye quietly asked Dylan if they could speak on the front porch. Dylan nodded and grabbed a blanket. Once they were seated on the porch, he carefully wrapped it around Skye to keep the chill air off her.

Skye's stomach fluttered as she gazed up at Dylan and was pulled into the dark-blue depths of his eyes. She was content with that, was all she could endure really. Her hearing narrowed to the two of them, every thump of her heart, every breath he took.

Jesse's voice floated through the log walls. "What are they doing out there?"

Skye and Dylan laughed, breaking their gaze.

"So," Skye said with a shy smile as she traced a nameless pattern on her jeans, "I guess we've moved past friends."

"I believe we have," Dylan said with a serious tone.

Skye gave a nervous giggle.

He continued, "It's what you want, Skye, right? I can handle it if it's not. I reckon I'd rather have the part of you I can than nothin at all."

Skye nodded. "It’s what I want."

Her green eyes shone with happy, unshed tears. "But we need to talk. There are things in my past you need to know. Things making this harder for me than it should be."

Some movement or sound that Dylan made, Skye wrongly interpreted as irritation. Quickly, she said, "This isn't about you." Skye winced.

Her heart dropped, worried Dylan would mistake her meaning. And she was right. Dylan tensed and bolted to his feet, but Skye was faster.

Skye grabbed his bicep with both hands and pulled, stopping him. Dylan watched her hands slide slowly down his arm, past his elbow, his forearm and wrist to take his hand in her two small ones. She tugged his hand to her stomach and held it there, giving him no choice but to return to his seat beside her.

"No, listen! I know you think it is, but it's not. You are affected by my problems. But this problem started a long time ago. You- you aren't my problem. You are my salvation."

23

Family

Skye shivered. It had nothing to do with the chill, night air, and everything to do with her strong emotions. Dylan pulled the plaid blanket up higher on her neck.

Skye grabbed his hand back, needing an anchor of reassurance. Worried what she needed to say would make him want to leave her again. She tightened her grasp, and though it made no difference to his strong hand, her own knuckles whitened. Uncertain of his reaction, her anxiety got the best of her. She quietly cleared her throat.

Seeing her distress, Dylan turned toward her, laying his other hand on top of hers.

Skye looked up at him, gave a sharp chuckle, and rolled her eyes at her inability to start her story. She took a moment to lay her forehead against Dylan's arm, and he patiently waited until she was ready. Finally, she blew out a long breath and began to speak.

"I was married before, did I tell you that?"

Dylan was calm. "Okay."

Skye looked down at the old wooden floor of the porch. "It was right out of high school, literally, just two weeks after we graduated. We were young and crazy. We were going to be in the same college, and thought we would be together forever. Why wait? Why not start now?" Skye's lips turned down. "Obviously, forever didn't happen."

Dylan didn't make much more than a grunt before he said, "I'm glad, or I wouldn't be sittin here with you right now."

Her eyes flew to his, and she smiled. Skye raised a hand and stroked his stubbled face with her thumb before lowering her hand to his again.

"Me too. Because I'm with you, and also because I'm sure I would be dead by now. My ex wasn't all that great of a protector." Skye uttered a small, bitter laugh before she went on. "He wasn't involved in the college... incident, but of course it affected him too." Skye hated bringing this up, but it was the beginning of everything. "The one and only stipulation my family allowed the college was that I had to leave it, couldn't even step foot on the campus. And since we were married..."

"He had to leave too."

"Yes, and he had a ton of friends at that college, played ball. He was very involved, and he bitterly resented leaving. I told him to stay, and I meant it. I was the one who had made a mess of everything. But he didn't, he followed me to the next college. After we left, nothing was the same for him, which he rightly blamed on me."

Dylan snorted derisively, but Skye didn't agree. "It was my fault, Dylan, without a doubt. About that at least, he was right."

Dylan squeezed Skye's hand, letting her know he would've stood beside her, been her rock.

Skye nodded and kissed his hand before continuing on. "So there he was blaming me for ruining his life. And I felt guilty about everything, as I should have. From her death to seeing my friend's go to jail while I got out of everything. Our parents wanted to ignore it ever happened and wouldn't let me talk about it. I was a mess. He was a mess. It was just all…”

"Yeah, I see that."

"I swore off alcohol and drugs, but now he was always partying. He was seldom home. I rarely left it. He got sick of me, started bringing girlfriends back. And I- I didn't even really care.”

Skye shifted in her seat. "One day, he came home high, and it turned into this big fight, and he hit me. Not that bad, but that is how low I was. When he hit me, I just let him. Then I walked into the bedroom, pulled the covers over my head, and went to sleep. After that, I started to provoke him, hoping he'd hit me because I hadn't suffered for what I'd done. It wasn't horrible, I wasn't on the floor bleeding, but he and I knew it was wrong, that something vital was broken with us."

Dylan put a hand to her chin and tipped Skye's face to his. He ran a finger down her hair, pushing it out of her face. "It's okay, Skye. You don't have to tell me."

"I do. I want you to know."

"Okay, then."

Her throat tightened. "It went on that way for a while, but I guess, one day I decided I'd been punished enough. Because, for the first time, I blocked him when he tried to hit me. Unfortunately, that was also a day that he was particularly wasted. He got angry, irate. That day I was on the floor."

Dylan's jaw clenched.

"When he left, I packed up my stuff and moved out. I never looked back."

"So, with my background, you're worried."

"Honestly, yes, at first. Odds are, it would be a problem. But now I know you would fight anyone, including yourself, to keep me from harm." Skye shook her head, causing her hair to fall back over her face. "No, I learned back then how I could be. I was so overwhelmingly depressed, weighed down with guilt. I made horrible decisions. I haven't trusted myself since. You deserve someone ready for a relationship, and I wanted to make sure that I was."

Dylan pushed Skye's hair back and peered at her. "You are. You're the most stable person I know."

Skye gave a wobbly smile. "I don't know about that, but I'm a different person. All that horribleness changed my life. It made me better. That's when I decided I wanted to help people. I changed from a self-absorbed, fashion diva into a responsible, considerate adult. It took a lot of work. You would not have liked that other Skye, not one bit."

"I would've," Dylan insisted.

"No," Skye laughed, "that first day? I know you now, you would have jumped in your truck and happily left her on the side of the road, instead of giving her a home."

He gave her a blank look. "What do ya mean?"

"You gave us a home, Dylan."

He scoffed. "I didn't do nothin."

Skye beamed at him. He was so completely unaware of what he'd done. "Dylan, it was you who gave me something I didn’t thing I would ever have again. I was so scared, so unsure of everything. You gave us a home. You were to one who decided to help me with Jesse that day. You brought us here and took care of us, are still teaching us what we need to know. You gave us warmth and comfort in this cold, harsh world. You made us a family."

* * *

It shook Dylan. He just did what he thought he should do, what needed done. He hadn't realized what it really meant. That all along, he'd been making the very thing he'd been yearning for -- his own family.

Dylan looked down at Skye's smiling face with a new understanding of himself. His chest warmed as she said the words he had been waiting for.

"You have been my salvation, in so many ways. You made this family, Dylan, and you made us. You and me. However far you want to take us is up to you."

A slow grin lightened Dylan's face, but his voice became deep and raspy. "Let me show you how far I want to take us, darlin’.”

Dylan released Skye's hands and wrapped his arms around her. He drew her tight, holding her as if he was afraid to ever let go. Dylan's heart felt as if it would burst, but it was somehow a wonderful feeling.

Any remaining doubt faded as Skye's answering embrace reassured him that she meant every word she said.

Raising a hand to the back of her neck, Dylan pulled away, releasing her enough to peer deep into Skye's green eyes and gauge her reaction to his words. Love is what Dylan saw there, love and acceptance. Everything he had ever wanted. He slowly lowered his lips to hers, savoring every second of the journey.

And he thought, finally.

24

Tomorrow It Is

When Dylan and a slightly rosy Skye came back into the cabin, they got a thumbs up from Wade and a suspicious look from Jesse, but the awkwardness was short-lived. Wade was on the radio with Tom.

Skye rushed to the radio and pushed the button. "Tom, when are you two coming up here to stay?"

"I'm working on things, but there are people who need us here too. It's hard to know when we can get away."

"Bring them too, there are places for everyone. At least come for the winter. It will be safer." Skye listed all the reasons life on the mountain was better. She ended with, "And I miss you both!"

Tom laughed. Skye's list was quite lengthy, but she had some excellent points. "We miss you too. I'll talk to the others and see what they think about it."

Skye's shoulder slumped when they said their goodbyes. Tom hadn't committed to anything once again.

She sighed and picked up the shopping list she'd started earlier. It was getting longer and longer. She dropped into a seat at the kitchen table where the other sat.

Skye's brows knitted. When would Tom come up here? Colton seemed so much more dangerous than the mountain. She doodled along the edge of the paper as she worried. She squared her shoulders, worrying would do no good. Paper. They needed more paper. After writing it on the list, she looked over the plain white tablet. Skye added a hyphen and pretty. Pretty paper.

Skye glanced at Dylan and Wade as they discussed the route to the superstore the next day. What category would pretty paper fall in?

They divided the list into three categories. Most Important, Somewhat Important, and It Would Be Nice to Have. Wade and Dylan had been content with the first two. It was Skye and Jesse who wanted the third when they saw how sparse the men's anticipated needs were. And the fact that many of Skye and Jesse's requests were met with frowns.

Since the men were adamant about what went onto the first two categories, the third became a happy free-for-all for Skye and Jesse. As long as they ignored the scoffs and eye rolls directed their way. Jesse immediately named the toys and candies he dreamed about, while Skye added beauty regimen products she missed and desperately needed.

Wade and Dylan, so used to frugal living, felt even razors a complete luxury. When Skye added them to the Somewhat Important category, they objected.

"There ain't no way razors are that important. Move 'em to the Nice to Have," Wade insisted.

Skye disagreed. "They belong in Somewhat Important. I'm not saying to risk our lives for them. But if we can look for them, I say we get them."

“No, they ain't worth the trouble. I want to get in and out. A little hair never hurt anyone," Dylan said.

"Okay." Skye shook her head and pointed the two men. "Well, just remember that when I'm as bristly as the two of you." She erased razors from the list, moving it to the third column.

Dylan rubbed a hand over his somewhat hairy arm. He exchanged a look with Wade, who shrugged.

Dylan glanced at Skye with a smirk. "Keep it where it is."

Skye giggled. "Thought so."

Jesse leaned over Sky's shoulder. "Just remember my car kits."

Things on the Most Important list boiled down to gas, medicines, toilet paper, personal items, soaps, a few food staples, and first aid supplies. Along the way, they would check cars for gas. If they were fortunate, they would go past a filling station that still had fuel.

Tom had suggested they check out a superstore close to Fenton. Last he knew, there had been plenty of supplies left there. Tom warned, though, no one from his group had been there in the past month. It was possible another community came and cleared the store out.

Wade and Dylan didn't like going that far with Skye and Jesse coming along, but the superstore seemed the most likely place, and they needed everyone's help.

"I'm thinkin we should take all three vehicles and really load up," Wade said, "If we get more than we can use, we can always pass some items on to the others up here."

"We can get another car, and I can drive!" Jesse eagerly volunteered, his eyes lighting up at the thought of practicing his driving skills.

Skye rejected his plan. "You can drive some but not alone."

Jesse's whole body sagged. "Aw, you are no fun!"

"Actually, that you drive at all makes us very fun." Skye gently pinched Jesse's cheek as he rolled his eyes.

"I would rather you two stayed here or at Tom's," Dylan said, "but Wade's right. The more we get in one trip, the better."

"So when do we go?" Skye asked.

"According to the Farmer's Almanac, the weather is clear tomorrow," Wade said.

Dylan nodded. "Well then, if the morning breaks fine, tomorrow it is."

The sun rose the next morning lending a molten-yellow glow to the tree-covered mountain. Skye peeked out the bathroom window as she slipped on her jeans and t-shirt. With a nervous smile, she grabbed a hoodie and tied up her hair. It was exciting to see what the rest of the world was like. But Skye tried to temper the feeling. It could also be dangerous, and she would have to keep a sharp eye out.

Wade and Dylan got in their trucks. Skye climbed into her Jeep, Jesse beside her in the passenger's seat. She peered over at Dylan in his black pickup and sent him a warm smile. He winked back. Skye's arms felt empty. I should've hugged him before we left. He probably wouldn't think to do it. It's something I need to remember to do, especially on a day like this.

The drive down the curved roads was beautiful each turn offered a new view of the forest and mountains. Dappled light raced across the Jeep's windshield. Skye squinted at the green valley below. This might be the last time down the hill until spring, so she soaked it all in. "Pretty, huh?"

"Yeah." Jesse lowered the window, letting the crisp wind tousel their hair. A hawk swooped in front of them letting out a sharp call as if he scolded them for trespassing.

Skye glanced at Jesse as he tipped his head back onto the seat and inhaled the earthy aroma. The boy loved the forest. It was something he often talked about even when he was still with his dad. There was something it did for him, something deep inside. He couldn't name it, but it made him feel good even when things were bad.

The forest thinned as they neared Colton. Skye and Jesse eagerly scanned the town. It seemed quiet, like any other sleepy little village.

Until the spate of gunfire shattered the silence.

25

If You Stay

Dylan tensed at the sound of gunfire. When Skye slowed her Jeep, he raced up and around her, tires squealing. Dylan rolled down his window. “Get back up the mountain! Get back up that mountain now!"

Skye lowered her window, her finger white and numb as she mashed the button. "Dylan, they might need our help!"

"Wade and I will go. You go on up there now!"

"No! Dylan, I can help! We can help. I'm not leaving you down here!"

"Skye darlin, don't fight me on this. You need to get that boy up the mountain."

Several emotions crossed her face, but he won the battle the minute he mentioned Jesse. She would always keep the boy safe.

"Dylan." Skye weighted his name with her passionate plea for him to be careful, to come back to her. "I love you."

Dylan's gaze locked on hers. He swallowed a few times so he could say something, anything over the lump in his throat.

A soft smile covered her pink lips, and her eyes softened. "I know." She made a U-turn and headed back the way they came.

A warmth spread over Dylan's chest as he watched Skye drive to safety. Then he chuckled. Jesse's mouth had dropped open, and his eyes gone wide at Skye's words. This was all as new to the boy as it was to him.

Another spate of gunfire grabbed Dylan's attention. He turned right on the first street he came to and searched the yards. Wade followed him in the red truck. Once Dylan found what he was looking for, he spun into a driveway. He jumped out of his vehicle and ran to a tall tree. A white treehouse sat in it, a long rope ladder hanging from its mini hand-railed porch.

Wade was right on his heels. "Smart! Good thinkin, bro."

At the top, they scanned the neighborhood. "Looks like we're on the right side of this fight anyhow."

Dylan pointed out the far side of the small town where some men herded the Sick. Other men, he assumed Infected, shot towards townsfolk. The closer side of the battle was only a couple of streets from where Dylan and Wade stood in the treehouse. The people of Colton were fighting back.

"Looks like these Infected found out how to use the Sick to their advantage too," Wade said.

"Looks like." Dylan's heart sank. The numbers of the Infected were far more than the inhabitants of Colton. The odds weren't good.

"You see Tom?" Dylan scanned the fighters. "I got him. Well, let's go down and see if we can help out at this party."

"Now you’re talkin." Wade clapped his hands and rubbed them together.

Relief covered Tom's face when he spied them walking toward him, but his words didn't agree. "You should just turn around and head back up that mountain."

"Skye would kill us if we did that," Dylan said.

Tom tipped his head to the enemy. "They’re gonna kill you if you stay."

Dylan squared his shoulders. "So be it,"

"Enough of this talk," Wade said with a gleeful tone. "Let's crack some skulls!"

"Well, you two up our odds considerably. Having you here is like having another mini army."

"Are you done stroking our pride?" Wade pointed to the battle. "Whatcha got cooking?"

Tom raked his fingers through his hair. "We're barely treading water here. We need to keep them from getting any further into town. They've already murdered two families on their way in before we could stop them. There were kids, and they just mowed them down like they were nothin."

Wade bowed his head and shook it. "Those Infected -- they don't care. Everything, everyone is nothin to them. My bet is they are just hellbent on destruction. Destroy this town and everyone in it."

"They’re dyin anyway. Dyin in battle is a quicker, easier way for them to go," Dylan added.

"Regardless," Tom said, "We've only got one plan. Stop them by any means necessary." He waved over a few of his men and began to outline his plan as the others continued to fight. "The sound of their bullets are driving the Sick our way. We need to take them down."

A couple of the men mumbled, uncomfortable with what needed to be done. Tom reassured them. "You are all deputized. Shoot them wherever you want as long as they stop moving. We have to stop them. Our family’s lives are at stake! Do what you need to do to survive. Defend your wives and children. Those Sick and Infected are out to murder you and your loved ones.”

The Colton fighters began to make headway in pushing the central column of the enemy back. The enemy fell, some unconscious or dead, some rolling in pain.

More than once, Dylan winced as his shot found a mark. His stomach twisted tighter with each hit. Even if they were the aggressors, it was difficult knowing he caused their pain or worse. Did trained soldiers feel this way, or was it drilled out of them?

The Infected had no problems shooting to kill, and Colton men went down. There was no choice. The enemy had no mercy for them, they could offer none in return.

Flames erupted at two of the houses on the far side of town. The Infected threw a torch into the third. Beside Dylan, Tom cursed under his breath. Would there be a town left by the time this battle was done?

A bullet zipped past Dylan. Close enough the air stirred as it passed. There was a wail of agony as the shot found a mark. Turning, Dylan saw a young father, rolling on the ground in pain. Someone ripped off the bottom of their shirt and pushed it to the bleeding wound. Dylan pressed his lips together a few times. It would be of little use, the man had little time left.

Dylan turned at Tom's bellow. While they were fighting the central column of Infected, a second band made their way around to Colton's side. The Infected moved toward the men's ranks, taking down those Tom stationed there.

They also cut off Tom's way back home, back to Tricia.

Tom gasped as he looked back at his house where he'd left his wife. "I thought she'd be safe there."

Dylan scanned the streets and yards. There had to be a way a few of them could get through the battle line to Tricia. But if there was, he didn't see it.

What Dylan did see was a sky-blue Jeep screech around the corner. It knocked Sick and Infected out of the way, as it raced to Tricia's house.

Dylan's heart stopped when Skye blared the horn and every one of their enemies turn to the sound.

26

A Chance

Skye had headed back up the mountain, against her own inclinations, and against the desperate pleas of Jesse.

"Enough, Jesse! Dylan's right, we need to keep you safe!"

"But Mom! What if we lose them?"

A knot formed in Skye's stomach. "What if I go back down there, and I lose all of you?"

"At some point, Mom, that's a chance you're gonna have to take."

"Not today." Even as Skye spoke, the car was slowing.

"Mom, the way things are goin, we're gonna have to take a stand or everything, and everyone is gonna be gone."

The knot twisted. "We can't be part of a battle. Neither of us know anything about that. We’d be more of a hazard than a help." Skye ran a hand down her face. "We'll find a place to watch, then maybe we'll see another way to help."

Skye and Jesse went further up the road until they found a little pull-off. From there, they could see the town and the battle below. Skye suddenly wished they couldn't see it. She spotted Dylan, saw the war raging around him, and felt sick. Skye covered her mouth to hold in the gasps and small sobs, especially when someone behind Dylan went down, writhing in agony. "Jesse, I can't watch this!"

"Mom, look!" Jesse pointed to two young children, their small forms bent, their blond heads huddled toward one another. They clutched hands as they ran down an evacuated outer street. The children zig-zagged from one side of the road to the other, looking for help.

Skye shoved the car in gear. She sped to the little children. When she reached them, Skye slammed on the brakes, jumped out of the Jeep and threw them into the back seat.

The little ones wailed as Skye drove back out of town despite her assurances. Before she got far, Jesse pointed out more stranded people. A mother holding a baby frantically flagged them down.

Skye raced to the mother, and waved her in. Noticing the absence of vehicles anywhere in the area, Skye asked her, "Where are all the cars?"

The young woman patted one of the crying children as she jostled her baby. "When this started, the cars were moved to the other side of town for a blockade. No one guessed the Infected would get this far. Now they're coming, and we're all stuck here." She pointed out an elderly couple tottering down their driveway clearly hoping for a rescue.

Skye started toward the older couple. "Put the little ones in the cargo so we can fit them in." Once she picked the couple up, she shouted to another family that she would come back for them.

Skye raced up the mountain to the overlook’s parking lot and let everyone out before heading back down. She and Jesse made trip after trip. Skye focused on driving while Jesse searched for stranded people.

Once the word got out someone was rescuing them, more and more people appeared. After a while, the stream of people slowed. Skye and Jesse sat in the Jeep, making sure there was no one else.

Skye tapped her finger on the steering wheel. "Where's Tricia? Why wasn't she with them?"

"Maybe she's with Tom," Jesse said.

"Maybe." Tricia knew how to shoot well enough Tom may have thought she could help, especially since Colton's side was short on numbers. Still, Skye worried. She moved the car closer to Tricia's house, watching for any movement.

When the fight moved closer to her friend’s house, Skye saw gunfire coming from the second story window. "She's in there, Jesse! We have to get her out!"

Skye studied the area around Tricia's house. The Infected fought Colton men on the left. Skye's problem would be the Sick scattered around the neighboring yards.

"Jesse, hang on! I'm going for it!" Skye floored the Jeep, screeched around the corner and up Tricia's drive. She blared the horn and winced. It might be a mistake, but she needed Tricia down here as soon as possible.

The enemy was already coming for them.

Tricia raced out the front door, a rifle in her hands and her long red hair flying behind her. Skye held her breath as one of the Sick turned to follow her cousin-in-law.

"Mom, look!" Jesse screeched. Skye turned to see a boy, about Jesse's size, running toward the car. A Sick right on his trail. Jesse put his hand to his door handle.

Skye reached for him. "Jesse, no! You stay here. I'll go."

"I'm closer." With that, he was gone. Skye scrambled at her door, seeming to pull at everything but the door handle, fighting her way out just as Tricia slid into the seat behind her.

"Jesse!" Skye shouted.

"Where?" Tricia asked.

"There." Already surrounded by the Sick, Jesse dragged the terrified boy back to the car. "I don't have -- I don't have a weapon other than a knife."

"I have my gun," Tricia yelled as the women jumped out of the car and raced toward Jesse. "If they get close, shove them." At Skye's disbelieving glance, Tricia said, "I know it sounds crazy, but it works. The Sick ones, once they're down, they take a while to get back up."

Skye nodded. When Skye reached the horde, she shoved her way through them. Tricia used her rifle like a bat usually taking down more than one with each swing.

Skye pushed through tangled limbs and misshapen bodies, using her knife against those attacking her.

The Sick fought going down. But Tricia was right, once they were, they struggled to regain footing. This opened a way out for Jesse.

Jesse broke out of the ever-growing horde still holding onto the boy. One of the Sick reached out and grabbed at Jesse with its claw-like hand. The boys struggled to hold onto each other, but unbalanced, both fell.

Skye's heart was in her throat when she saw Jesse drop. The Sick rushed them. One of the Sick dragged the other boy, kicking and screaming, across the grass.

Everything slowed for Skye. What seemed like minutes was really only seconds,. Strangely though, sounds remained the same. Skye willed her feet to move, but she couldn't go fast enough.

"Skye!" Dylan's called to her. Skye searched and found him rushing toward her. Through the smoky, crowded battle Dylan appeared, disregarding his own danger, his eyes fixed on her.

He tore through the fight, taking a shot when necessary, stabbing with his knife occasionally, but not slowing for anyone or anything.

Dylan reached her, grabbing her arm as Skye grasped him. Each needing some sort of touchstone in the middle of all the chaos.

"Jesse!" Skye's ragged sob told Dylan what he already knew. There was only one reason she would be here fighting this hard.

Jesse cried out. Skye and Dylan sped to him, Tricia at their side. Skye pushed at the Sick and used her knife when she necessary.

The three of them made a hole through the crowd of Sick and found Jesse. Dylan pulled him from the pile. His hands gripped the boy as he wildly whispered it would be okay in Jesse's ear. Tricia reached the other child and rushed him back to the car ahead of the rest of them.

The Sick were on Skye and Dylan's heels. Dylan pushed Jesse to Skye. The boy's hands dug into her arm as she hurried him along.

Dylan's rifle roared more than once. Then the crack of the rifle butt bashing skulls sounded behind them.

Tricia shoved the boy she rescued in the car, leaped in and held the door open for the others. Dylan shoved Skye and Jesse into the waiting seat, then headed to the driver's side. The Sick trailed him. He slammed the door shut as their ungainly bodies hit the side of the vehicle. Their bloody spit smearing the windows.

Skye wrapped both arms around Jesse. He shook almost uncontrollably. "I'm not sorry," he mumbled, "I needed to save him."

"I know, baby, I know," Skye crooned, staring over the boy's head at Dylan. He took a second to glance from the tangle of Sick he drove through to her. Skye's wide, tear-filled eyes shared the thought swirling through her head.

We don’t know if Jesse is immune.

27

One Piece

Another dull thump against the front of the Jeep brought Dylan's attention back to his driving. He honestly didn't care if he was shoving the Sick out of the way or running them over, but still, he made almost no headway.

The Sick surrounded the car at least three deep. Some Infected ran from the battle toward them, weapons drawn.

The Sick worked themselves up into a frenzy, their angry fists pounding the windows. Skye hovered over Jesse.

"Oh, Dylan." Skye's tone held a quiet desperation.

Dylan shot her a glance and a quick shake of his head. Skye thought she would lose everyone she loved today. That wasn't going to happen. "It's okay. We'll think of --"

"I have something!" Tricia fumbled with her jacket pockets. "I grabbed it as I flew down the stairs." She thrust her hand up between the two front seats. In Tricia's hand was a flash-bang.

Dylan let out a relieved chuckle. "If I didn't already have me a woman, I'd take you on, Tricia."

"Oh, you sweet talker, you say that now,"

Dylan rolled down his window as much as he dared. Even so, hands grasped and pulled at him. He yanked his arm away and threw the explosive as far to the front of the Jeep as possible.

It sailed over the Sick's heads. The noise and light startled the horde, and they quickly moved away from the source of it. It created a pathway for Dylan.

He took advantage of it and gunned the Jeep. Tires spun, and smoke drifted over the car before it took hold and jolted forward.

Jesse's eyes widened as they raced through the Sick. "I never seen them so close. They're disgusting." He wrinkled his nose at their foamy mouths and noses, bloodstained clothing and dirt-covered bodies.

"Look at that one over there," said the boy Jesse rescued. Jesse climbed into the back seat, and the boys pointed out the grossest examples to each other.

Skye whispered to Dylan, "Maybe we should keep them separated."

Dylan's heart sank. "Skye, whatever's gonna happen now, is gonna happen. They both -- they both got exposed, nothing we do now is gonna stop anything."

Skye's lip quivered. She caught it between her teeth as she turned her head to look out the side window. Dylan took her hand in his hoping he gave her some sort of comfort.

Tricia watched the two of them and smiled. "So, you got yourself a woman now, do ya, D?"

"Yep, you're fresh outta luck, Trish," Dylan laughed.

Trisha returned his laughter. "D, we've been runnin around together since babyhood. You always felt more like a brother to me. I'm real happy for the two of you!"

"Thanks, Tricia, that means a lot." Skye tightened her hold on Dylan's hand and smiled. But Skye was still shaken, and when a tear landed on Dylan's hand, he wasn't surprised.

"Hey, it's all over," he reassured her, "We're all safe now. You did good, real good."

"It's not over, and you know it," Skye said as they pulled into the parking lot where the rescued group watched the battle below. A battle still in full swing. "You're going to order me to stay here while you go back down there."

When they left the car and saw the chaos below, he reached for Skye, but he didn't answer. There was nothing for him to say. She was right.

Skye pulled her hands away and tightly wrapped her arms around herself. "I almost lost everything down there, and you want to go back. How can I watch you do that?"

Dylan took a step toward her and gently ran his hands up and down her arms as he stared into her eyes. "They need me. It'll be okay. I'll be back. I promise."

"You can't make that promise."

"I'll do everything I can to make it back here in one piece. That I can promise." Dylan gave her a little tug so she would let go of herself and wrap her arms around him.

Skye allowed it, snuggling against him for a moment. Then she stepped away. "Go. Leave now before I don't let you go."

Dylan yearned for her, to draw her back, and feel her warmth against him again. But if he did, he wouldn't want to go either. Dylan gave her a slow nod and walked toward the car. When he looked back over his shoulder, Dylan saw her staring back at him. Skye's lip was caught between her teeth. She was trying to be strong for him.

Dylan never had anyone care about him this much before. His chest ached as he moved away. Would this always be the way of it? Him walking away, leaving her crying.

One thing that comforted Dylan was that she had the knowledge to take care of herself now if need be. He’d given her that. A month or two ago, he would have been sure his death would mean hers, but she had proven herself. If the worst happened to Wade and him, Skye and Jesse had the cabin and knew how to care for all of Wade's off-the-grid equipment. They could trap, and fish as well as scavenge. They would go on.

A few of the adults volunteered to go back down for the fight. The trip back down was solemn. These people were not warriors, and they were frightened. They would have walked away from homes, but there were still people trapped in the town. Some of them were friends, some family, but all needed out. They were determined to help them.

When Dylan reached the battle, to his surprise, it had swung to the town's favor. Many of the Infected were zip-tied and lying face down in the grass beside a box truck. A few deputies still chased stragglers trying to run off.

Seeing Dylan, Tom asked, "Tricia?"

"Up at the overlook. Skye got a bunch of people up there out of the way. I left the kids with some adults up there for safekeeping. Can't say I mind just turnin around to head back up and get them. What happened here?"

"When you caused all that ruckus getting out of here, it divided the Infected. We got a jump on them."

When all was accounted for Colton had lost half its inhabitants, which had been meager to begin with. Some had been murdered by the Infected, two had died in the fires, and many had been bitten by the Sick.

All of those bitten had survived the airborne AgFlu, but no one was sure what happened to those who survived that infection but were bitten. Tom was willing to wait it out and see, but the townspeople clamored in fright. They decided to take those bitten to the containment center along with the Infected and Sick. More than likely, they were now doomed to a long, painful illness before the relief of death. But if they somehow survived, they would be welcomed back.

Dylan and Skye offered to stay to help clean up, but Tom refused them. "You go on ahead to the store. That's important too. The weather is bound to turn soon. Mind if I send a couple of people up with you? Might as well get some things we've been needin too."

Dylan readily agreed. "The more people have with us, the better."

Tom nodded and put a hand to his hip. "And Skye, I'm gonna talk to the town, but I'm thinking it's past time for us to move up to Cole's Mountain.

28

Close

Tom sent two townsmen, Aaron and Curt Williams, with Dylan's group. African-American, brothers, and part-time deputies, the men had grown up in that vague region that was neither mountain nor town. They and their family had always liked by both communities.

Since Aaron and Curt's cars were stuck in the town's blockade, they took Dylan's old truck. The two would look for another vehicle on the way. Jesse and Wade drove Skye's Jeep so Jesse could practice, and Dylan and Skye went in his new truck.

Dylan glanced at Skye's worried face. Jesse's close call was still on her mind. "Surely, the boy's been exposed to this before, at school or in town."

"Or even my office. Yes, I know, that's what I keep telling myself. Jesse had to be. But if somehow, he wasn't --. Once we brought him to your mountain, he was separated from anyone who could infect him. If he somehow hasn't been exposed -- oh Dylan, he's at risk."

Dylan gripped the steering wheel tighter. "No use overthinking this. It'll just get you upset. We'll just keep an eye on him, is all. We'll know soon enough."

"How are we going to know? It can take a year to get full symptoms."

"Tom told me those who are infected know they are."

"That's what Anna Lynn said too. She said they will get one or two mild symptoms that don't go away before it becomes a full-blown condition."

"Well, like I said, no sense over thinkin it."

Skye bit her lip and stared out the window.

"Hey." When Skye glanced at him, he looked down at the hand he held out to her. Skye laid her small arm on top of his larger one and clasped his hand. "Odds are he'll be just fine. No worryin til ya know what you've got to worry about. Besides, you'll freak the kid out. You know how well he reads you."

"I know you’re right. I'll work on it."

The drive to the store seemed uneventful after the fight at Colton. They saw a few wandering Sick but none that threatened them even when the group stopped at a few trucks and filled up gas cans.

When the group got closer, Wade signaled them to stop at a hill overlooking the store. They studied the surroundings before driving down to the store's parking lot. It seemed Tom was right, the place looked deserted. There was only a few empty cars scattered the lot along with several items that had been dragged from the store and left in the sun.

"Well," Wade said to Aaron and Curt, "looks like you have your pick of vehicles."

"Sure does." Aaron squinted his eyes to get a better look, then pointed. "What is that thing down there?"

* * *

Calvin, Tony, Pete, and Frankie stood on the hill watching Skye and the others as they investigated the store below.

Calvin couldn't believe their luck. On their way to Colton, they saw the very Jeep and truck they were looking for pass by on the crossroads in front of them. Fortunately for him, the road was overgrown and hid them from Skye and her people. One more minute and they would have met right at the intersection.

It was perfect timing. After meeting up with Frankie, they had hit the bar he'd mentioned along with a few others, spending days in drink and relaxation. Now he and his men were all ramped up and ready for some action. Who comes waltzing by but the very people who would have the pleasure of their restlessness -- perfect timing indeed. It was time to show that woman and boy their place in this new world.

Calvin exchanged delighted looks with Pete and Frankie, but Tony eyes fixed on the boy. When Tony was like this, he reminded Calvin of a pit bull-shepherd mix he'd once owned, named Rocky. That dog was always pulling at the leash, ready to mix it up with any other animal out there.

But Rocky had a particular hatred for a yellow lab two doors down. When that lab walked anywhere within Rocky's sight or smell, Rocky tensed and stilled, eyes zeroed in on that dog and that dog alone. Fur stood all along the ridge of his back, and a low, barely perceptible growl came from his throat. If Rocky hadn't listened to Calvin so well, there would've been yellow lab dog guts all over the yard.

Calvin eyed Tony. He wasn't sure the man would listen as well as the dog. Tony had tracked the boy since they settled in this spot.

Calvin wasn't the only one who noticed. Frankie frowned and said, "No hurtin my boy!" wisely reneging on his invitation for Tony to give the boy a couple of licks. In Tony's current mood, a couple would be all it would take to do in the slight boy. Tony didn't respond.

Calvin approved. Good for Frankie, sticking up for his kid. A man should always take care of his family, no matter what. I hope the kid makes it.

Calvin glanced at Jesse before giving Frankie the once over. Taking in the father's hungover, haggard appearance, he doubted the guy had what it took to bring Tony down. Calvin would have looked forward to the match if there was more sport in it, but he could already see Frankie's crushing defeat.

Poor kid. What's coming for him isn’t going to be easy.

29

Deserted

Skye and Curt took lookout, each looking down opposite sides of the road.

Dylan pulled her shoulder, "Hey, can you make out that thing there?"

"You have the best sight I've ever seen. If you can't, I doubt I can."

"Just see what you see." Dylan stepped behind her, extending his arm over her shoulder and pointing to what he was talking about.

It was a tall, red, slim structure. "To me, it looks like -- I don't know, perhaps a statue of some kind? But roughly made, like someone made it after, not before. Ask Jesse. He has the youngest eyes."

"Hey, Jesse, come over here and take a gander," Wade said. "Maybe your eyes are not all used up yet."

Jesse skipped to Wade's side. "There's holes in it."

Wade turned to Skye. "Put some binoculars on the list." Skye agreed. It was an excellent idea.

Dylan paced a little. "I don't like it. Means people are there, or have been there, for long enough to build that thing."

All eyes shifted from Dylan to Wade, waiting for him to offer his opinion. "Yeah, but they could be gone. Or it could just be a couple people down there."

"Or it could be twenty or thirty.”

"Naw. We'd see that many."

"Maybe not, it's a big store." Dylan threw out his arm. "We got the woman and boy with us. It's too big a chance. We don't need this stuff that bad."

Skye bristled. ”Hey, don't use us as an excuse. We knew what we were getting into. We can handle it. And we do need that stuff."

Dylan stopped and stared at her. "Really? I know you don't want to put the boy in danger after what just happened in Colton. I can't watch all ya."

Irritation flared in Skye. "Can you have a little confidence in us? You're the one who's been training us after all."

Dylan strode over to Skye. "Well, it's my job to protect you."

"And it's ours not to need your protection one hundred percent of the time."

She put a hand to Dylan's chest. "I appreciate you wanting to do that, Dylan. But you can't --." Skye noticed the raised eyebrows and elbow nudges around the group. Their conversation entertained the group a little too much. "Okay, this is a conversation for another time. We are here now. We need this stuff, if at all possible. Is there somewhere closer we can watch the place?"

Dylan huffed and walked a few paces away.

Wade shrugged. "Not as good, but maybe good enough."

The group moved to the spot Wade suggested. While they could no longer see the entire square of the building, they did have a better view of the store's front doors. Propped open, the glass entrance seemed to offer an invitation to enter. It was clear someone had been there. And if Dylan was right, they could still be.

They could now see the unidentified structure for what it was, a work of art. Handmade, it towered over the parking lot. A lift in the corner of the pavement explained its height. Someone had spent weeks building it.

Still unsure, Dylan went to scout it closer. While everyone waited for Dylan's okay, Skye watched Jesse terrorize some ants while the men kept an eye out.

Forty-five minutes later, Dylan came back. "People have been movin around down there. Hard to tell if it was a group or family. But, if we're going to do this, let's get it done."

Dylan and Skye took the lead. Dylan continuously scanned their surroundings as they drove down the hill to the store parking lot. Skye eyed the colossal statue as they drove under it. It was a statue of a man or parts of one. Every time Skye looked at it, she swore it was taller.

Maybe it was its size and shape, or that such a strange piece of art stood in this unexpected place, but it was eerie.

Painted blood-red, its body was created from piecemeal scraps of metal and wood. Poorly made, it stood on two twisted, misshapen legs. One arm reached out entreating passersby for help. The other limb went only to the elbow. With the rest of the arm in a jumbled pile on the ground below.

The face was the most finely constructed part of the piece. It contained more detail than all the rest of the creation put together. It showed a man in agony, eyes wide and mouth screaming.

Though roughly made, it was art. There was no doubt it represented the disastrous state humankind now found itself in. It both frightened and deeply saddened Skye. She shivered.

"Strange," Dylan mumbled.

"Yeah."

At the market's front doors, they parked and exited their cars as quietly as possible. Once inside, every scrape of a foot, every shift of weapons, and even a sniff echoed throughout the dark, deserted building.

Used to seeing the store bustling with light, people, and energy, to see it like this brought back the weird feeling Skye felt near the statue. Her mind flashed to every horror movie she'd ever seen. Putting her arm around Jesse, she pulled them both closer to Dylan.

People had been here. The checkouts sat to the left side of them. Notes along with money covered the conveyor belt left by honest-hearted people hoping things would get back to normal one day. The pile was covered with a thin layer of dusty dirt. No one cared -- money was worthless now.

To the right, the fresh fruit and vegetable section sat empty, not even an apple left. It was just as well. The smell of so much rotten food would've driven them out. A few broken jars of garlic lay scattered on the floor. They’d left a strong aroma but nothing else. Ahead, the shelving still contained a surprising amount of items on them. It gave the group hope they would find everything they needed.

Dylan gestured for Aaron and Curt to go with him to check out the aisles, while Wade, Jesse, and Skye would stay near the cash registers. The three men made it to the end of the rows then gave the all clear.

Each person grabbed two buggies to fill. Skye winced at the clamor as they clanged and screeched across the floor.

Lord, I hope no one is within miles of this place.

30

Headlines

Skye stifled a giggle. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen anything so absurd as the large men speeding off with their buggies while shouldering their guns and bows.

Dylan swept a muscled arm through a shelf, dumping its contents directly into the metal cart. He looked up at her, frowned and gave a sharp nod in the direction she was supposed to be going.

"I know." Skye looked contrite.

"Then get."

Skye playfully rolled her eyes at him. His tone hadn't been as harsh as his words.

Skye turned the opposite way of Dylan at the next cross-aisle and headed to the part of the store that held personal items. Each person had designated items, and she had assigned herself this area. Skye had no faith the men would even remotely know the right soaps or anything else to get. And there were a few extras she hoped to sneak into the buggy.

On her way to personal products, she passed through the toy section and grabbed a couple of games Jesse requested along with all the model car kits left. She spied a red remote-control car and tossed it in the buggy too. Books, paper, pens, and pencils flew into the cart. They were back in high demand now devices weren't used as much.

In the personal section, she stuck to the essential things first like toothpaste, shampoo, soaps. When she claimed all they needed, Skye turned to luxury items. Moisturizers, conditioner, face masks, a couple of nail polishes just for fun, makeup, a brush all for herself, hair ties, and the many other things that a woman needs or wants after being deprived of them for so long.

Skye was losing breath by the time she was done. Though she would've loved to take time to peruse the aisles, Skye scooped up products as fast as she could, happy she wasn't a picky person.

Her eyes were on the cart looking over her haul as Skye whisked around the end of the aisle and almost colliding into Wade, Dylan and Jesse's buggies.

"Hey, you done? What the?" Dylan said, giving her his I-can't-believe-you-woman look as his eyes moved from the cart to her.

Skye looked at her supplies. Silently groaning, she noticed face masks and fingernail polishes on the top of the heaping pile. "Look, I got all the important products they had! Then I got a few things I wanted.”

"A few things? I'm not sure all that is gonna fit in the cabin,” Dylan mumbled as he flipped through the pile.

"Stop it. It's not that much." When Dylan didn't relent, Skye said, "Fine. Then dig through there and take out what you think I don't need." Skye looked from her stuff to the two uncomfortable men eyeing the numerous pink and purple packaged items.

Jesse looked from the men to the buggy to Skye, snickering behind his hands. Skye threw up her arms. "Oh sorry, guys, in case you hadn't noticed I'm a girl!" Jesse went from snickering to all-out laughter.

Wade turned to Jesse and thumped him in the head. "Have some respect, boy!"

"Wade!" Skye put out a hand to stop him. "Do you have to be so physical? You know I hate that."

"Yes, I do. And in case you hadn't noticed, we're boys." The three guys broke into laughter.

"Boys is right," Skye muttered under her breath as she pushed past them.

"Hey, you got me stuff!" Jesse pawed through the toys. "What's this?" He turned one of the books from front to back.

"A book for you."

"It's a love story." Jesse grimaced and pointed to a girl on the back of the book.

"It's not a love book. It's a dragon story. See." Skye pointed out the man, the dragon, and the title. "The Dragon Master."

"I don't know," he drew out, staring at the cover.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, give me that." Skye tossed it back in the buggy. "We are getting it. I can't even imagine what shopping for real would be like with you guys."

Dylan urged them back to the front of the store. As they rushed through the men and boy's clothing department, Skye grabbed jackets, coats, and sweatshirts. The men gave quick nods to everything. It was only when she veered to the jeans, they complained.

"We don't want no new jeans." Wade looked stubborn.

Skye's raised her eyebrows. "But your old ones all have holes in them."

"Yeah, and they're just getting comfortable," Dylan said as he threw a few packs of dark thermal tops and bottoms into his buggy.

Skye tossed some jeans in anyhow, at some point they'd be glad they had them.

By the checkouts, Wade grabbed several dusty magazines. Dylan picked up one. The headlines screamed Atlantis exists! Leaders talk with President and offer hope for AgFlu! In smaller letters below that, another title said, Aliens take all the healthy to Mars!

Dylan pointed to the Atlantis headline. "You ever believe any of that?"

Before all news stopped, crazy reports flew around. One was that Atlantians had the cure for the AgFlu. Major new channels circulated the story along with footage of the supposed underwater people.

Skye shook her head. "I never knew what to believe."

"Well," Wade said, "you know we couldn't ever believe what the President told us, that's for sure! And the media just did what he told them to do."

Jesse piped up. "Well, there ain't a President anymore."

Wade took a huge breath. Dylan and Skye shared a glance. Wade was about to launch into one of his conspiracy theories.

Dylan pulled at one of Wade's carts. "Come on now. There ain't time for all your ideas."

Curt and Aaron ran into the store and traded empty carts for the full ones. "Still got room in the trucks. Let's fill 'em up!"

"Well, put this in first." Wade pointed to his, Dylan and Jesse's buggies. "If that fills it up, just leave Skye's stuff off." Wade's eyes twinkled at Skye's outraged expression.

Skye turned to Curt and Aaron. "Every one of those items better be in one of those vehicles!"

"Yes, ma'am," they said before laughing as they headed out the front of the store.

"Come on." Dylan waved them to the hardware and sports section. "Since they’re doing that, let's get the rest of this stuff." Tools, nails, and screws in a variety of sizes were all thrown into the buggy. Then all the bullets, arrows and bolts, as well as, knives, fishing gear, and the only two guns left.

The four shot smiles at each other. They had everything on their list and then some.

Getting it packed in the vehicles took some doing. And they were reduced to laughter by the time the last item made it in the truck. After banging up the final tailgate, they turned to see six rough strangers advancing on them, weapons drawn.

31

My Boy

Calvin and Frankie stood on the hill overlooking the large store. They observed Dylan's group as they rushed in and out of the building filling their vehicles with supplies. Tony and Pete had made a case to corner Skye and Dylan's group while they were still in the building before going to look for a suitable ambush location. But why do that when Calvin could let them do all the work and take the fully loaded vehicles when it was done? Then Calvin and his men could find a decent house and hole up for the winter somewhere.

Frankie scraped his shoe in the dirt and stones alongside the asphalt road. He was clearly working up his courage, and Calvin was pretty sure why.

Frankie heaved a heavy sigh. "I don't want Tony touching my boy. He's got more than a beatin in mind."

"That's not what you promised him earlier. The boy took something from him, and it's only fair he gets something in return." Calvin eyed Frankie then turned his gaze back to the store as if he were bored.

"That was the alcohol talkin. You know as well as I do, Tony wants more than that, he wants to kill him."

"Tony is a kinda rough guy. His reaction isn't surprising." Calvin waved his hand, he was done with this conversation.

Frankie wouldn't be brushed off. "What's wrong with you? That's my kid, my flesh and blood! You think I'm gonna stand by and watch someone take him out?"

Calvin watched another trip in and out of the store. Those people were like bees in a hive.

"Have ya ever had a kid?" Frankie said. That got Calvin's attention. "Would you've stood by and let someone murder him?"

A white bolt of shock shot through Calvin at the question. He'd run down the parent of every kid that called his son a bad name. No, he would never stand by.

Calvin bowed his head at the memory of his lost children, his heart heavy. He turned to Frankie. "Look, I get it. But I can't take away from Tony what I promised him. You're new -- you might not even stick with us. Tony's been with me from the beginning." Calvin stared at the woods and pursed his lips before glancing back at Frankie. "But I'll tell you what, if you can get the boy away. I won't stop you."

Frankie looked at Tony as he hobbled out of the trees. "Look at him, he's all muscle." Frankie glanced down at his own skinny frame and threw up his arms. "How am I supposed to do that?"

Calvin's eyes narrowed. "You do what any good father does. You protect your child by any means necessary."

Frankie settled and nodded. "I ain't been a good father. The drinking -- it makes me someone I don't wanna be."

"Well, that's an easy fix. Stop drinking." Calvin stared at Frankie. "Be a better man before it's too late, and you don't have a boy anymore."

The words seemed to resonate with Frankie. He grimaced. Calvin couldn't help but wonder if it was from his sorrow over being a less than stellar father or a future without a drink.

Calvin crossed his arms. "I'll do what I can if you promise to do what you can." He waited for an assurance that Frankie would, at least, make an effort to take care of his child.

"Yeah, okay, Of course, I will." Each word Frankie said became more determined.

"I'm not helping you with that woman your boy is calling mama now. She's getting her due. Just the boy."

"That's all I'm askin for."

Calvin glanced back to the store. "Well, now. It might be out of our hands." Calvin and Frankie watched as six men came out of the woods from the left of the building. Their guns aimed at Dylan's group. "Well, they almost made it out."

"We gotta save Jesse!" Frankie paled and raced to the car.

"And get that stuff." Calvin scanned the area, coming up with a plan as he headed back to the vehicle.

32

Hope

Skye trembled, shaken to the core. She didn't utter a word, but her lips shaped a silent 'no.' With one hand, she reached for Jesse, dragging him over to her. With the other, she grabbed Dylan's shirt, moving closer to him.

Loaded with weapons, the six men oozed menacing attitude. Hard, rough men, their mismatched, dirty clothing looked like a rock band gone wrong. They stopped, smirks on their faces. They knew they had the upper hand.

Dylan's stare quickly scanned the rival group. He turned and murmured, "Skye, take Jesse to the car. Meet us at the pull-off."

Dread come over Skye. She didn't want to go, to leave Dylan here. But the instant he'd spoken, he, Wade, Aaron, and Curt pulled their weapons in unison as if it was a silent signal alerting them to do so. Skye turned, pulling Jesse along with her. The men closed the gap they left behind.

"Oh, no, no, no," said the enemy's leader. "You stay where you are."

Skye glanced behind her. Sweat dripped down the man's filthy face creating tracks in the grime. He was awkward and twitchy, and Skye felt sure he was sick. She continued on until she heard the click of a gun.

The leader nodded toward Dylan. "Looks like you're heading up this little outing. I'm Gregory, and I'm the leader of this little band." Pride over his dubious accomplishment was evident. "What's your name?"

"Dylan. What do ya want?"

"What do I want? I'd say it's what you want." Gregory waved his gun at the trucks. "Too bad you came callin while we were out. You're not showing great manners raiding the pantry like you did. All that stuff -- it's ours."

Dylan glanced at Wade to take over the negotiations. Wade was the talker. Dylan had no patience with bargaining, especially when lives could be at stake, but Wade would love the challenge.

"Aww, we're real sorry about that." Wade's voice was as casual and friendly as if the two groups had met at the neighborhood bar. "We didn't know this was 'owned' by anyone. We just reckoned this bounty was for everybody. How did it come to be yours?"

"We live here now, so it's ours. It's all ours."

"I understand." Wade laughed. "Kinda the American way,." He scratched his head. "Thing is, we could use some of this stuff. How about we trade for what we got in the trucks? This is a store, so we'll buy what we took. Whaddya want for it?"

Gregory laughed. "What do we want? We want all our stuff back. We want to not sell it to you. In fact, because we now have to haul it all back in there, we are going to keep your vehicles as payment for the extra work we have to do."

Dylan and the others brought the guns that had drifted downward back up at Gregory's words. His people did the same.

"Whoa, Gregory!" Wade put his hands up. "Your gonna want to stop right there. You see my brother, Dylan, here? He's gettin angry. And while Dylan in full rage is a glorious thing to see, you’re not gonna want it coming at ya. Now, his girlfriend here says it ain't healthy. But I gotta say, it sure is entertaining, if you're not on the receivin end of it. So, before that happens, let's get back to talking. This isn't very neighborly of you. Here we are tryin to strike up a bargain, and you go saying that. Come on, let's make a deal."

"Oh, I'm a lot more neighborly than some groups. I see you got a woman with you. Do you know those are getting rather scarce? Women die quicker now than men, bit rough out here for a lot of 'em. I could be asking for her."

Relief flooded Skye over Gregory’s lack of interest in her. Regardless of the man's lack of attention, Dylan reached his arm back and pushed Skye directly behind him, his jaw tightening.

"And the kid, too. Kids are almost as scarce. A lot died when there was no one to take care of them. The world needs kids. I was kinda hoping they wouldn't die out, so life could, you know, go on."

Skye wrapped her arm tighter around Jesse as Gregory paused for dramatic effect. "So yeah, I could ask a lot more from you all. So the deal is this; you get to live if you leave within the next two minutes. Or you can die. It's up to you." As he spoke, his men slid the safeties off their guns.

Dylan's men tensed, readying themselves for the fight. Even Jesse’s grip tightened around the knife at his belt. The pressure was palpable, it would take little to set it off.

Skye examined Gregory, then the rest of his group. The man to the right of Gregory had a tremor so bad his gun shook like the tail of a rattlesnake. That was at least two sick in his group.

Skye knew what people wanted. Hope was the cornerstone of life. It always had been. Hope a child would make it to adulthood. Hope one found a mate. Hope together they could live a happy life, maybe produce healthy children. And the cycle went round again.

These men had none of that. There were mateless, childless, and dying. They needed what everyone else had -- something to believe in.

Maybe they hadn’t heard yet.

Skye stepped around Dylan. "Excuse me."

"Darlin', shut up." Dylan's resigned words told her while she often did the unexpected, now was not the time. He pushed her back again.

"No, please, let the lady speak."

Skye ignored the stress pouring from Dylan. "I can't help but notice some of you are infected."

"Why yes, you get a gold star. We are all, in fact, infected. Some of us have full-on sickness. Not a nice condition, let me tell you."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure it's not. We aren't sure that our boy, Jesse, has been exposed. Do you mind if I put a mask on him? To protect him?"

"If it makes you feel better, go right ahead. But I'm thinking no one here will live that long anyway."

"Well, just in case." Skye's hand shook at Gregory's comment as she pulled a mask out of her pocket. "And he's not going to die because you're not going to kill us. We will leave here with or without the stuff, that part has not been determined, but you're not going to kill us."

"Well, little lady, I was talking about the sickness taking us. It takes everyone sooner or later."

This is what Skye had waited for. "I know it seems like that, but some people do live through it. Wade, Dylan and I all had it to some degree and got better. Maybe you will too."

Shock covered the faces of the rival group. Clearly, they had been unaware of anyone's survival. The news did what Skye had hoped it would. It changed the focus from her group to something else.

When Gregory's men dropped their weapons and started to murmur amongst themselves, it seemed to have worked.

33

White Coats

"That's what them White Coats said," one of Gregory's men said. "They were right!"

White Coats?

"No, they weren't right." Gregory's voice was full of disdain. "And neither is she. You know what you've seen. It isn't true."

"But what if it is?" The men's murmurs grew louder as more of them joined in the discussion.

Gregory raised his voice. "She's lying! Now quiet down."

Skye took a step closer only to have Dylan grab her arm. "I'm not lying to you. Some people are surviving."

Gregory's men debated amongst themselves. "The White Coats offered a ton of money, jewelry, and ammo if we brought them some lab rats."

"Money ain't worth anything now, ya idiot."

"They said it would be. Everything would be the same again, once the scientists created a cure."

The word caught Skye's ear. "A cure?"

"Yeah," Gregory said, "They're looking for people who claim to survive it. People like you. Don't suppose you want to volunteer to help out the human race, do ya?"

Dylan scoffed. "What are they offering you money for, if it's volunteers they want?"

"Just to help escort you there." Gregory's innocent act wasn't convincing anyone.

"Yeah, right," Dylan growled.

Skye, though, was still curious. "Where are these people located?"

"We don't care," Dylan said in a flat tone.

Skye glance back at him. "Dylan."

"We don't care."

Dylan stood there every bit as tough as the men before him, his steely gaze taking in every movement of the enemy. A muscle worked in his jaw. It pulsed a couple of times before Skye understood Dylan picked up on something she missed. So she repeated his words, "We don't care."

Gregory gave a bark of a laugh. "Well, we do. They need some lab rats. It looks to me as if we've got some."

Skye's stomach turned. "You just said that you didn't believe any of this."

"Well yeah, but just in case. Besides, the stuff the White Coats are offering."

Skye clenched her fists. Gregory wasn't after the stuff, he was after the 'just in case.' She had ignited a hope, but she only had words. These White Coats may actually have a cure. Her wish of getting her people out of there got slimmer by the minute.

Wade spoke up. "Ya have a whole store full of stuff, buddy. How about you just let us go in peace?"

"Sorry, buddy, but I don't think I can do that." Gregory signaled his men. Their guns returned to their shoulders.

A cold finger traced its way through Skye. Her hand sought Jesse's as Dylan pulled her back behind him. "Go!"

Gregory's men would need to go through Dylan's to get to Skye and Jesse. It gave them a small window of opportunity. Skye turned and flew the few steps to her blue Jeep, yanked the door open and pushed Jesse inside. She ducked and uselessly covered her head when the deafening roar of gunfire erupted. The bullets tore into her car.

The shots flattened tires and shattered windows. When the shower of debris stopped, Skye gasped for what little air her pounding heart allowed.

"Jesse!"

Skye raised her head to find Jesse already scrambling back to her. By some miracle, he was not hurt. Skye wrapped an arm around his waist and jerked him back out of the car, onto the ground.

Gregory yelled, "Don't kill them, you idiots! They aren't worth anything dead."

One last bullet passed them like an angry bee, shaving a small piece of metal from the body of the Jeep and hurling it deep into Skye's arm. She groaned as it burned its way through her flesh.

A band of iron encircled her other arm and dragged her to the front of the Jeep. Dylan pushed Skye and Jesse to the ground. Skye covered Jesse, and Dylan covered Skye as he searched the parking lot.

The trail of blood running down her arm splashed small ruby droplets to the pavement below.

Dylan winced. "You're hurt."

"I'm fine. It's nothing." When Dylan yanked up her sleeve, looking uncertain, Skye assured him. "I promise. It's nothing."

He nodded and ran a quick hand over Skye's hair as he continued to eye Gregory's men. Two of the enemy lay motionless on the pavement while the other four sought cover behind empty vehicles.

Dylan's six people had made it through the initial gunfire. They crouched behind cars themselves.

Dylan let out an exasperated groan. "They've shot up all our cars. I'm not sure any of them will start now. We can't have you wasting time trying. I want you out of firing range. You and Jesse are going to have to run for it."

"Run?" Skye looked over the vast, sparse parking lot. "Where?"

"The tree line." Dylan nodded the way he intended as he shoved a small gun into her hand. "Lose yourself in the woods, you know how."

Skye drew in a breath. "Okay." The trees seemed so far away.

"We'll give you cover."

"And then you'll follow, right?"

"We'll try."

"Dylan."

Dylan nodded to Wade so his brother would keep a lookout for him. He put a gentle hand on Skye's face. His eyes softened as he drank in every one of her features. "You're lovely." His thumb stroked her cheek, just once. But Skye felt every slight movement of his calloused hand against her soft skin.

"You go to the overlook. If that doesn't seem safe, go farther. I'll find you."

"I know."

"You worry about you and the boy. I'll worry about me. Got it?"

"Yes." Skye brought her free hand up and on laid it on his. She bit her lips together, afraid she would cry.

Dylan pulled her towards him and kissed her forehead. His gaze sought hers again and locked, holding hers. "If this crazy, horrible, wonderful feeling is love. Then I love ya, darlin'."

Skye pulled in a breath and held it. For a moment, everything was still. She forgot where she was, what was happening. A hawk screeched above them. Dylan's rough hand moved against her, his resolved, beautiful face filled her vision. This time it was Skye who couldn't speak.

Skye started to move toward him, but before she could, Dylan whispered, "Now go." He stood, lifting her up with him.

"Dylan."

"I know." He smiled and gave her a little push in the direction he wanted her to go.

34

The Bad Guys

The second Skye and Jesse left safety, Dylan and the others laid down a protective layer of bullets. Gregory's men did not even peek around their shields to try anything.

The gunfire rang through her skull and reverberated through her body. But the sound which normally put her on edge now brought her comfort as she and Jesse sped across the broad swath of bare pavement.

However as soon as there was a break in the gunfire, Gregory sent two of his men after Skye and Jesse. Skye glanced their way and urged Jesse to run faster. The two men fired, their bullets hitting the concrete behind her and Jesse.

Skye turned at the sound of a cry. Curt was on the ground clenching his leg. Dylan pulled him back to safety as Wade returned fire.

Skye tripped over a crack in the pavement.

"Mom!" Jesse helped her up. "They're closer, Mom!"

Skye fired a couple of rounds behind her. It was unlikely she would hit anything, but the men slowed anyway.

Skye picked up speed, going as fast as Jesse could handle. Her gaze ran up and down the broken pavement, frantically searching for someplace to hide. The few scattered vehicles lay too far away to be of help. She and Jesse needed to make it to the trees. They had to.

Skye threw a glance over her shoulder. Gregory's men were gaining on them with each step. She could hear the slap of their shoes on the asphalt.

Skye and Jesse refused to give up. Breath labored, hearts pounding, they raced on.

"We'll make it, Jesse!" Skye huffed. The boy nodded, but their odds were low, and he wasn't the fool he pretended to be.

The men shot at Skye and Jesse's feet. A bullet to a leg was less likely to be fatal. But their own erratic movements along with those of their targets kept their aim from hitting anything vital.

They taunted Skye and Jesse. "You can't win. Just stop. Quit. Everyone else will be dead soon. Do you really think some woman and kid will get away from us?"

Skye clamped her jaw. "We've gotten away before by ourselves, and we'll do it again," she told Jesse. If they could make it to the tree line, they'd have cover. She and Jesse could use what Dylan taught them. They just needed the trees.

Instead of slowing Skye and Jesse, the men's words fueled them. Skye's spirits lifted when they were within yards of the woods. They were almost there, just a few steps, a few seconds, and they would be safe.

They were so close now they could almost touch the multi-colored leaves on the trees.

When the shots rang out, Skye jerked. Gregory's men thudded to the ground. Skye and Jesse turned expecting to see Dylan and Wade. But there was no one behind them.

Skye's gaze traveled to where she'd left him. Dylan's men were in hand to hand combat with Gregory's remaining men.

There was a stir in the woods. Skye whipped back toward it.

Through the thick line of trees stepped Calvin, Pete, and Tony. Skye's whole body clenched, and her mind spun. When she thought the nightmare couldn't get worse, Frankie came into view.

Skye started to pant, unable to draw a breath. She put a hand out to Jesse and took an unsteady step backward. Whatever Gregory's men had in store for them would be a picnic next to what these men had planned.

She whirled, pulling Jesse with her. She needed to get back to Dylan.

"Oh no, you don't. We finally found you, rebels. It's time you learned your place."

35

I Will If I Have To

Skye reluctantly turned back to the men, pushing Jesse behind her and raising her gun.

Calvin laughed. "You don't want to do that, girl."

Resolve firmed Skye's shaky muscles as she took a stance. "No, I don't, but I will if I have to."

Rage covered Calvin's face. "When will you learn?" He raised his own gun. Skye fired, but Calvin ducked.

Calvin returned fire. Skye's bones seemed to rattle out of their sockets as Calvin's bullet slammed into her gun. Her weapon dropped and skittered along the pavement. She looked down at her throbbing hands and saw a small chunk of flesh gone. Blood dripped from her hand.

Skye put her unsteady arms around Jesse. "Please, just don't hurt Jesse."

Tony laughed as he took one limping step toward them. Revenge for his injury was his only purpose.

"Dad!" Jesse gaze swung to his father, his voice breaking as he called out to him. "Dad, you don't want to be like this."

"You’re fine, Son," Frankie assured him, ignoring Tony's fiery glance, "You'll be fine."

"And Skye too?"

"Skye -- I can't do nothin about."

Skye stared at Frankie. Was it possible to believe him? She wanted to assume he would save his son from any hurt, even as her stomach dropped at his refusal to help her. Skye had no plan. There was none to have. There was no choice but to trust Frankie would at least not allow them to kill Jesse.

"Jesse," Skye kissed the top of his head and murmured, "go to your father."

"No."

Skye was not a stranger to the obstinate tone in Jesse's voice. He could be one stubborn child, but please, not now. She glanced at the men and saw they were in no hurry. In fact, they were enjoying themselves. Their eyes lit up as Skye squirmed, and they laughed at her realization that she had no choice but to surrender. They didn't want to rush this.

Skye dropped to her knees in front of Jesse and smoothed back his dark hair with her good hand. "Baby, I want you to survive. Your father will at least give that to you."

"I know. But if I go to Dad, the others will come for you."

Skye closed her eyes for a moment, then gazed at Jesse. "Honey, they will come after me no matter what you do. So please, go to your father."

"No."

Tears welled in Skye's eyes. This boy was aware of what he was putting on the line for her, and he was ready to do it.

"If we stall long enough," Jesse whispered, "Dylan will get here."

Skye threw a look over her shoulder. Dylan was by the cars throwing punches, blood over his face and upper body. She laid her head against Jesse. "We'll be long gone before he gets here."

"Dad," Jesse called out, "I've never asked for much, you never let me. But I'm askin that you let us go. Don't let them hurt Skye."

"Son, I'm not in charge here. I couldn't help her if I wanted to."

"Well, I gotta say," Calvin said, "I'm impressed by the kid. Putting himself on the line like that for her. Who would've guessed a whelp of yours would have it in him, Frankie?" He clapped. "This is turning into quite the show. Any more pleading? I'm really enjoying this."

Skye ignored him, keeping her focus on the boy. "Jesse." All her love and concern poured into his name.

Jesse put his hand to her hair and smoothed it, as she had done to him so many times before. "I'm not leavin ya, Dylan wouldn't leave you, and I won't either."

Skye took in Jesse's stubborn stance. Only the very young were able to be this reckless and still think everything would be fine. But there was no sense in arguing with him now.

"Okay, act like we're still talking about this while I take a look around." Over Jesse's shoulder, Skye searched the pavement and the tall grass growing along it for something, anything she could use as a weapon.

If Jesse would not cooperate with her plan of saving him, then she needed a different one. A plan to fight.

They still had their knives, but to get close to the men wouldn't be to her and Jesse's advantage. She berated herself for allowing Calvin to disarm her.

"I think we only have to concentrate on the three. Your dad won't hurt you." At Jesse's doubtful face, Skye said, "Well, you know what I mean, not as much as they will. Try to do what you did the last time if you get caught. We will run for it but, honestly, I have little hope of getting away. You need to prepare yourself."

She looked back at Dylan, wishing his swinging fists were at her side. "And you're right, maybe, if we can stall long enough..."

Jesse put a shaky hand on her cheek and pulled her face back to him. "Dylan and Wade will save us, Mom. I know they will."

Skye nodded. "Well, last time we saved ourselves, so let's try that first."

A ray of light hit Skye's eye, causing her to squint and turn her head. To the left side of Calvin, glass sparkled against the tarred concrete through the line of overgrown grass. There was something dark, maybe metal. She could see only a small bit. It may be nothing, but it helped her decide. They were going that way. Skye prayed it would be something she could use against these evil men.

"I love you, baby. Are you ready?"

Jesse solemnly nodded. Skye took his hand in her bloody one and stood, looking at the smirking men as regretful as she could. Calvin, with his short, blonde hair and trendy clothing, along with his natural way of speaking could have been a rather charming neighbor of hers before all this happened. She would have never known of the darkness that lay within him.

Tony, anger wrote in every line of his body, probably always tended toward bullying. A lack of law and order gave him the freedom to become someone vicious.

And Pete, overly tall and strong but not very bright. He could have been a rather loveable figure before but had fallen in with these two. There was no malice on his face as he stood there watching them. But there was also no doubt in Skye's mind he would follow every order given and enjoy it.

These men could not rule the world, not her world, not Jesse's world. She wouldn't let them.

You're going down. I don't know how, but you will not win this.

36

Defeat

Skye hung her head and sagged her shoulders as she faced Calvin and his men, trying to look defeated even as she tensed for their escape. Under her lashes, she took small, quick glances at the men as she sized them up.

Calvin barked out some comment about docile women Skye felt sure he thought was witty. The rest of them laughed, relaxing for a moment. This was the opportunity Skye had waited for, slim as it was. It was likely the only one she and Jesse would get.

Skye squeezed Jesse's hand, and pushing off the concrete, they ran. Jesse held tight as they sprinted to the thin patch of weeds Skye had made her goal. Maybe whatever was there would turn the tables for them.

"Hey!" one man called out as they ran right past them to the edge of the concrete. Their shoes scraped against the pavement as they started after Skye and Jesse.

Skye ignored the yell, ignored their feet pounding the ground behind them. All her focus was on that one dark, unknown object. Please, please, please!

The closer she got to it, the more she could make out. It was long and slim. Her hopes rose.

Jesse glanced back. The men were on their heels. "Mom!"

The long scraggly grass was no barrier as Skye's feet crunched the gravel and small bits of broken glass. Her hand slid around the dense, smooth weapon. Skye gripped it, pulling it out of the mud trying to keep it where it was. But she jerked it up.

It was all she'd hoped for and more. Skye continued to race toward the woods, barely slowing at all. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

"Jesse! It's good!" Skye tightened her grip on the lug wrench, its solid surface giving her the courage she needed. The men were close, she could hear them panting behind her.

Calvin was only steps behind Skye, then Pete ,with Tony awkwardly following everyone. Frankie hung back to keep an eye on Tony.

"Jesse," Skye gasped, "We will run as far into the woods as far as we're able. Use the trees for cover. Circle back to Dylan. If we get separated. That's what you do. If just one of us get to Dylan, he will know where we are."

"Okay." Jessie agreed, his young face as determined as any man's.

Skye and Jesse wove through the trees, jumping over tree roots and fallen limbs, hoping those would delay the men. Cursing began behind them. A heavy thud sounded like one of their pursuers went down, at least temporarily.

Skye slowed Calvin, but couldn't shake him. Soon he was right back on her heels. She could practically feel his breath on her neck.

She listened for the crunch of Calvin's tread on the fallen leaves, trying to figure out just how far behind her he was. Calvin sped up, taking an extra step for every two of hers. He would soon be on them. Skye readied herself, tightening her sweaty grip on the metal rod.

One more step.

Skye waited for the crunch. She dropped Jesse's hand. Grasping the lug wrench with both hands, she turned and swung it with all her force. The moment slowed, and the connect with Calvin's body seemed to take too much time.

When the blow came, they both cried out with pain. The shock of the impact reverberated through Skye's arms and shoulders.

Skye raised her weapon and came at Calvin again. He staggered back trying to avoid it. The second strike forced him to his knees, groaning. One more blow and he fell to the ground. Calvin groaned out insults but didn't stand.

She backed away from him, quickly scanning the forest for the others. They were behind Calvin but not as far as Skye would have liked. She had no more time to spend on Calvin. Still, it's something, maybe enough to keep him down.

But it wasn't enough for Jesse. As soon as Skye finished, he moved in and sunk his knife deep into Calvin's thigh. Jesse twisted it. Calvin's scream echoed off the surrounding hills.

In another place and time, Skye would've cried over Jesse hurting someone like that, but she had no tears to shed for Calvin and no time to do it. But when Jesse raised the knife again, Skye said, "Jesse, we need to go. They're coming."

Once again, they gripped each other's hands as they ran. They persevered until their bodies, dripping sweat and gasping for breath could do no further. Slipping behind some large trees, they caught their breath.

Skye clung to the rough, brown bark of one and peeked around it. Calvin was up, though limping. The men had fanned out, blocking the way to Dylan. Her hope of getting back to her group was gone.

The only way left was in front of them, a steep uphill slope. Half-way up the small mountain was the road winding down to the entrance to the store. Where Dylan was. Calvin blocked the direct way through the woods. Now the only way to Dylan was up and around.

Skye's gaze ran from the bottom of the hill all the way up to the road. It seemed much larger standing at the bottom. A scramble up the almost vertical hill would be no easy task.

Bit by bit, the men closed in on them. Calvin called out crude insults and taunts trying to provoke Skye and Jesse into revealing their position. "Ignore him," Skye whispered to Jesse when he stiffened in protest, "nothing he has to say is true or worth listening to."

She tipped her head to the mountain in front of them. "Can we climb it?"

"Sure, just grab onto the trees and bushes and pull yourself up."

Skye couldn't help but light a little at his optimism. She kept quiet rather than remind him she no longer had the energy of a twelve-year-old, that even her relatively few years behind a desk had undoubtedly taken a toll on her. "Sure, just do that," Skye said with a slight smile.

Once they ran for it, they would be seen, but that couldn't be helped. The men would soon be on them anyway. A nod to Jesse and they took off. A shout behind them told her they were spotted.

The strain on Skye's legs began immediately as she started up the incline. Skye and Jesse climbed side by side. They pushed hard and fast against the soft ground causing some of the dirt to slide away and trickle down the slope. Skye did as Jesse suggested. She gripped whatever grass, shrubs or trees she could to haul herself further up. The strain on her arms was tremendous.

Skye hissed as a clump of grass slipped through the wound on her hand, but continued on. It was much slower than running. It seemed as though they moved through molasses. Still, she thought they made good headway until she saw the men.

They climbed much faster than her, their greater upper body strength giving them an advantage. They were outpacing her and Jesse. Tony ascended faster than the rest, crawling up the side of the old mountain like a spider. His strong arms made up for his injured leg.

Her eyes widened. They didn't have much time. "Go, Jesse! Get to Dylan!"

Jesse glanced at Tony. "I'm going to draw him away."

"No!" Skye reached for Jesse, but her hand swiped through the empty air.

"Dad will come after him. That leaves you with two."

Not two that want me dead as bad as Tony wants you dead.

Skye continued to climb as Jesse moved away. Her stomach ached as Tony got closer and closer to Jesse.

Above Skye, a huge rock protruded from the soil. If she could get to the right side, she could cross it to the left where Jesse headed. From there, she could drag Jesse up. Maybe they could defend that spot.

Skye pushed herself and reached the large, smooth top of the stone. She grabbed hold of the cold rock. Below her, Pete and Calvin followed. Skye shook her head. The evil spawn will not stay down.

Skye pulled herself onto the stone. Then raced the few steps across to Jesse's side.

Jesse was right. Tony followed him. The man was relentless, like a pit bull with teeth buried to the gums in a chew toy. Skye swallowed a gasp as Tony gained on Jesse.

* * *

Jesse heard the snap of branches behind him. He turned in time to see Tony pull his arm back.

Pain exploded across Jesse's face. He slammed against the stony soil, stunned. Only instinct kept him clinging to a small tree bending with his weight.

Skye screamed Jesse's name. Frankie quickened his pace as he trailed Tony.

Tony clenched his fist again. Skye yelled a warning. Jesse waited for the punch to come, then turned to let it harmlessly speed by him.

It threw Tony off balance. Jesse kicked at him, hoping the man would fall. He didn't.

Instead, Tony stabilized. Then he grabbed Jesse's ankle and pulled. Jesse clung to the grass and bushes for as long as possible. The man shook Jesse until all he held were a few weeds.

Tony said nothing, his face communicated it all. Eyes narrowed, determined to hurt the boy. He held the boy over open air -- a straight drop to the ground. The fall would probably not kill Jesse, but it would wound him, maybe severely. It was clearly what Tony wanted.

Upside down, Jesse frantically sought any handhold possible. It was at least twenty-five feet down. He had no intention of hitting bottom.

Tony slung him around by his ankle, playing with him. A bit of grass ran through Jesse’s hands -- the whip-thin branches of the brush -- once even the trunk of a good-sized tree until Tony made sure his head rammed into it causing everything to spin worse than it already did.

Tony stopped swinging him and laughed. Something bad was coming. At first, Jesse held his breath. But as the seconds ticked by and Tony baited him, Jesse got angry.

"I ain't sorry!" Jesse yelled, "I ain't sorry, and I'd do it again! I will do it again!"

Tony growled. It wasn't the kind of growl Dylan gave when trying to ward off unwanted questions.

This was deeper, harder. Before the world changed, Jesse hadn't known what that sound meant. Now he did. It was the sound men made as they prepared to battle.

Jesse had pushed Tony to the breaking point. One of them wouldn't make it through the day. Jesse's insides tightened.

"Kid," Tony snarled "by the time this is over, you're going to wish that is all I did to you!"

Jesse's eyes widened as they looked from Tony to the ground far below his head. He felt the man's hand loosen from his ankle and his free fall start.

Jesse’s hands scrambled, scraping the dirt. It shoved deep under his nails and stirring up the smell of the damp earth. Above him, Tony laughed, and Skye screamed. Once, Jesse caught hold of some brush, it slowed him. But the friction cut his hands, and the blood made them too slick to hang on to anything.

The landing was worse than Tony's punch. Jesse yelled as he slammed to a halt. He lay stunned. There was a strange noise. Him, trying to breathe. His chest jolted up and down attempting to draw in air. But unable to, it would quickly abort and start again. Everything started to go dark. Then for some reason, his lung hauled in a loud, noisy breath. It was weird, but it worked.

Jesse looked around. He wasn't on the ground; a small tree had saved him. He lay back against the tree, facing the blue sky.

The loud gasp hadn't been enough, and he was having trouble pulling in another. Jesse needed a breath, just one. His whole body protested his lack of air, his arms and legs flopping. Then a bit, only a little, but it was something.

With his next try, another strange sound came from his throat or chest. Jesse couldn't figure out where. It was like a strangling sound, but it echoed somewhere deep within him. He gagged, and finally, a real breath.

Jesse took a moment to savor the air before testing his limbs. Satisfied, he wasn't broken, he wondered at the dirt falling down on him. He tracked it up to its source.

Tony charged down the hill like an enraged bull. His red face locked on Jesse as he skidded almost without stopping using the rocks and branches to control his descent. As he neared Jesse, Tony bent his leg and raised it.

Jesse watched him come. A chill of fear came over him. Tony was going to stomp him as he lay with his back draped over the tree, and that would hurt. It would hurt very, very much.

Jesse tried to roll over, but a sharp pain stopped him. He tried again, but it was too late. Jesse braced for the impact.

37

The Only Thing

Skye stood at the edge of the rock above Jesse and Tony, her hands covering her mouth. Frankie was too still too far away to get to Jesse in time.

Skye couldn't stand there and watch as this monster beat her boy. Her gaze flicked from the edge of the rock she stood on to Tony.

She did the only thing she could do.

Skye dove off the mountain ledge straight for Tony.

Tony wasn't as large of a target as Pete would have been, but he was big enough. Branches and twigs left deep welts, and an icy fear raced through her. The drop felt longer than Skye imagined. She crashed into Tony and gasped.

Her stomach rolled as she grabbed at the flailing Tony. Skye coiled her arms and legs around Tony's neck and body. He would not shake her off. Tony jerked away from the slope, ripping grass and branches as he struggled to hang on.

Once Tony found a hold for one hand, he pummeled Skye's legs which were wrapped around his middle. She tightened the arm around his neck, restricting his air. Tony gasped and grabbed Sky's arm. His iron fingers dug into her flesh as he forced her to let go. But before he could, he lost his grip on the mountain and plunged downward, taking Skye with him.

Together, they rolled over bushes and scraped against stones until Skye pushed away from him. There was a crunching thud when Tony hit the trunk of a large tree. After that, he limply bounced once before continuing the fall. When Tony hit bottom, he was still.

A low whine escaped Skye as the ground rushed toward her. She slammed onto the dirt only seconds after Tony. Stunned and gasping, Skye lay there beside the unconscious man. The treetops did a crazy dance in her rattled mind.

Did I hit my head? I think I may have a concussion. The words were the only calm in her swirling head.

After the turmoil, the world suddenly seemed quiet and peaceful. As if it were a slow Sunday afternoon and she had chosen to rest here. Skye heard the wind blow gently through the trees and watched them stir. She listened to the birds calling out to one another as they flew overhead.

Then Jesse screamed.

Shaken and with little rational thought, Skye struggled to her feet. He needs me. She ignored the pain and the strange slide of her body. It never occurred to Skye he screamed over concern for her.

Skye looked up. A dirt cloud followed Jesse as he half ran, half scraped his way down the side of the mountain. Skye tried to speak, to warn him to slow down. But when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. Jesse neatly hit bottom with both feet, as though he were getting off a slide. He rushed to her.

With care, Jesse led her away from Tony. Limping, she followed, confused over the tears and fear covering Jesse's face as he glanced up at her. Skye groaned in pain when she put a hand to Jesse's face. "I'm okay, Jesse. It's okay. Let's find Dylan."

But Skye moved too slowly. Tony may be down, but Calvin, Pete, and Frankie were back on the ground and followed them.

"She killed Tony," Pete said.

Skye shook her bleary head. If Tony hadn't been chasing them, he wouldn't have been on that mountain to be killed.

"As good as killed him, anyway," Calvin said, "Look at him--all knarled up over there." Tony was a twist of arms and legs. Only a skilled physician would be able to help him now, and the world was short on those.

Calvin sauntered after the shuffling woman and boy as if he had all the time in the world. "Look what you did, Skye. Do you think we are just going to let you go after that? You just can't learn, can you? What an idiot you are, to think that you can stop us. Us!"

Agony shot through Skye's battered body with every step she took. She hurt beyond anything she'd ever felt before. A heavy headache began. When she wiped at her face, she brought back a bloodied hand. Skye stared at it for a moment.

Still, these men wouldn't leave her alone.

A sob escaped Skye before she felt her bracelets roll across the skin of her forearm. Strength. She swallowed the next cry. This had to end. "Please go, Jesse. I need you to go. Now."

"I already told you, I ain't leavin' you."

There was only one hope left to her as unlikely as it seemed. Skye turned to face Jesse's father. Her gaze begged the man as she forced him to take some responsibility. "Frankie."

Frankie refused to look at Skye. Her voice low and gasping, weaker then she would have liked, she pleaded with him. "Please, Frankie, save your son." Frankie turned his gaze to the ground.

Gathering up whatever might she had left, Skye yelled, "Frankie!"

"Yes, Frankie, save your son," Calvin said, imitating Skye. "Don't worry, Frankie, I'm going to save him." He pulled his gun from his pocket. "I'm tired of this game. It's cost me a nice pair of shoes." With genuine sorrow, Calvin looked down at his scuffed up dress footwear. "Not to mention Tony. She isn't worth that. I wanted more time with her, but I'm ending it now." Calvin raised the gun. "Pete, get the boy, and hold him back."

Pete lumbered over to Skye and the boy. Jesse clung to Skye as tightly as he could, but one meaty hand to the middle of Skye's chest and one pulling Jesse's arm was all it took to separate them.

Jesse fought, beating on Pete, but it was as if a fly buzzed around the large man. He paid no attention to the boy at all. Pete walked a few steps to the left of Skye and stopped, holding the struggling boy.

Skye stood as best she could, bleeding from numerous cuts. The anguish from the trauma to her body plain on her face. These were her last moments, and so many thoughts passed through her mind, but one more than any other.

Skye turned to Jesse, her gaze filled with concern as the tears cascaded down his face. "I love you, Jesse. No matter what happens, remember that, and be a good man. Make sure Dylan knows I love him, that my last thoughts were of him. And Wade, tell Wade I love him too. You're all my family. You're all-"

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Calvin said as he pulled the trigger.

Frankie launched himself at Calvin a second before the gun fired, knocking the weapon and Calvin's usually perfect aim off. The bullet didn't hit Calvin's precise target, but it did hit Skye.

Skye studied Frankie. He had tried to save her, someone his son loved, and he hated. Frankie had finally become a father to Jesse. She smiled, and he nodded back.

A strong, persistent burn grabbed Skye's attention. She raised a hand to it and felt blood running from a wound. Then she slowly sank to the ground.

"Don't do that again, Frankie! I say who lives and dies. Now come on, she'll be gone soon enough," Calvin said, "Get your boy and let's go. I'll see if Tony has any life in him."

Frankie shook his head. “I ain’t stayin with you, Calvin. I’m taking my boy and leavin.”

Calvin stared at him for a minute. “After everything I’ve done for you? No. You’re just leaving.”

Calvin raised his gun and shot Frankie in the head.

Jesse stilled and started to weep. Pete looked from Calvin to Frankie, then away.

An unearthly cry echoed through the forest behind them. Calvin visibly shivered as he turned in time to see the wild men bursting through the trees.

Skye's worries eased as Dylan's roar fill the woods. It surrounded her, comforted her. She could finally rest and let the darkness take her. Jesse would be okay.

38

Skye

When Dylan sent Skye and Jesse off, he was sure they'd be safer in the woods than beside him. He'd kept one eye on them as they started their race across the empty parking lot and huffed out a breath of relief when they appeared safe.

Gunfire raged around Dylan. Once Gregory ordered the firing to start, he didn't let up. Dylan and his men spent most of the time cowering behind the cars. Curt shrieked when a bullet caught him in the leg.

Every time Dylan got the chance, he fired Gregory's way. Once he heard a yell and hoped one enemy went down.

The gunfire from the other side slowed, and Dylan's men got their chance. But mid-blast to the enemy, Wade caught Dylan's attention. Dylan glanced back to see Skye and Jesse running into the woods with four men on their tail.

Dylan's heart slammed against his ribcage. For a second, he froze. A bullet buzzed past his head, startling him back to the fight.

Anger and fear mixed fueling Dylan's aggression. He was ferocious, determined to get this done. The woman and boy needed him.

The shots became more sporadic as bullets ran low. Dylan raced around the car to tackle one of Gregory's men. He pulled him to the ground, pummeling him. When that man was no longer a threat, Dylan went to the next.

This one had more fire in him. He got the upper hand and rolled Dylan, bashing his head against the pavement. Dylan grunted with each hit but pushed his way back up.

Dylan pushed the man back against a car and slammed his fist into his face. He didn't let up until the man was reeling.

Dylan looked to the woods as he wiped the blood from his face.

Shaking out a hand, Wade joined Dylan. Aaron lay on the concrete groaning from a beating he had taken. The Coles tied the last of Gregory's men and told Curt and Aaron to watch the four of them.

Dylan reloaded his crossbow, then he and Wade bolted across the parking lot. Dylan's blood ran cold when he heard Jesse's angry, desperate scream.

They raced to the edge of the concrete and found two of Gregory's men on the ground, dead. Dylan and Wade exchanged a sober glance and headed into the woods.

The enemy hadn't bothered to hide their trail so following them would've been easy, even if Skye and Jesse hadn't deliberately left evidence of the way they had taken. An anguished yell from Skye urged them along. Another  screech from Jesse sent a shudder through Dylan.

The men flew through the forest. They shoved past brambles pulling at their clothing and vaulted over rotted fallen trees. A single thought drove them, to save the ones they loved, no matter the cost.

As they neared the edge of a small glen, Dylan scoured the scene through the trees.

Skye stood alone, her shoulder and arm at an awkward angle, but straight and tall as possible. Dylan had never been more proud and more terrified in his entire life.

A large man held Jesse from going to her. But the boy was a whirl of limbs as he fought the big man with everything he had. Two other men stood across from Skye, one with a gun. The other was Frankie. Dylan groaned.

All this Dylan took in as he rushed toward Skye, only a few yards to go.

The man across from Skye spoke, a bullet exploding from the gun he held. Skye put a hand to her middle, looked at Frankie and dropped.

Dylan halted, stunned. Shook to the core, he hardly noticed the shot that took down Frankie. His legs refused to move, his lungs unable to take in oxygen.

A roar rose from a place Dylan didn't know existed. He stared at his love, the brightness of his life as she lay broken, so pale, and covered in blood. He watched her release a sigh, and go still, so very still.

Dylan's vision narrowed to the man with the gun. He plunged ahead, picking up speed until he broke free from the forest.

Dylan released the rage he continuously held at bay and let it run unchecked, adding the agony of Skye's death to the wrath that already lived within him. Dylan felt the heat move over him, would not have been surprised if his breath became fire.

Wade breathed heavy at his side, but Dylan wanted this for himself. He pulled ahead.

A swipe at Pete's skull with the hard crossbow had the big man staggering and holding his head. Dylan knew he could leave the rest to Wade. Frankie was already down with a bullet to the head. Tony moaned in the background. Dylan moved on to Calvin.

Fear washed over Calvin's face as an enraged Dylan came at him. He stumbled backward, his eyes stretching larger and larger as Dylan closed in on him. Calvin lifted a shaking gun at Dylan.

Dylan aimed his bow and fired, hitting the arm in which Calvin held the gun. His target cried out, dropping the weapon and grabbing at the arrow.

Dylan lunged at Calvin, fists pounding, even as the man apologized for every single wicked thing he had done his entire life.

Dylan's head whirred with rage. Still, Calvin's confession got through. Slaughters and unimaginable cruelties spilled from the man as if his admission would stop Dylan's fists.

It wasn't only Skye, his own beautiful Skye, that suffered at this madman's hands. There were others.

Wade appeared, pulling at Dylan.

"No! He needs to die," Dylan said through gritted teeth.

"She ain't dead," Wade said, "I know he does, but Skye ain't dead."

Dylan released the balled-up chunk of Calvin's shirt he held and let him drop. He stared over his shoulder at her. He was afraid, afraid that on this surreal day, this was the part that was not real.

Shirtless, Jesse pressed his t-shirt to Skye's bullet wound. The boy kept calling out to her, hoping she would wake up.

"Keep 'em all down," Dylan said, his voice curt. "If they move shoot 'em dead." Wade nodded and pulled a whimpering Calvin closer to Pete.

Dylan hurried to Skye. Blood covered her middle, her face, ran down her arms. He moved to gather Skye in his arms but stopped worried he would hurt her more. She looked so small.

Dylan swallowed the sobs trying to escape. Skye may be alive now, but she wouldn't be for long. He planted a foot on each side of Skye and bent to check her pulse. Some of the tension left him. It was stronger than Dylan expected.

Dylan waved at Jesse's hands and gently pulled back the shirt pressed against her wound. The knot inside Dylan tightened. The position of the injury alarmed him. Skye needed more than them, to recover Skye needed a hospital, a doctor.

"Help her, Dylan," Jesse pleaded. Dylan looked at the boy's scared face, knowing it reflected his own. How did he tell the boy maybe no one could?

A rustling came from the bushes to their right, and a black look settled over Dylan's face. He stood and loaded his bow. Beside him, Wade did the same.

39

Fix Her

Doctor Paul Kinder, his daughter Bre, and Kelsey Lang navigated the steep hilly roads on their way to Colton. After rescuing Kelsey, they located exactly what Paul hoped to find -- a mobile medical unit.

When he heard gunfire, Paul pulled his large vehicle over to the side of the road. From where he sat, Paul could see the superstore and its parking lot. He glanced at the girls. "You know what to do."

"Dad!" Bre pointed at their old neighbors. "That's Aaron and Curt down there!"

"You sure?"

"Yep, that's them all right, propped up against the car there."

Paul peered over his daughter's side of the vehicle. Aaron and Curt sat on the pavement, holding a gun on four other tied men.

He drove into the parking lot, eyeing the scene as he went. There was no doubt a shootout took place here. Many of the scattered vehicles were riddled with bullet holes, and at least three men had injuries consistent with bullet wounds.

Paul rolled up beside Aaron and Curt, but when he went to get out of the car, they stopped him. "Doc," Aaron said around a swollen lip, "It sure is great to see you, but you need to go on and find the Coles." Aaron waved at the woods behind him. "They went that way, after Skye Jackson and Jesse Bailey. We've heard screams."

Paul nodded and turned to the girls. "I'm leaving you here to start on Aaron and Curt's wounds. Check on Aaron and Curt the way I taught you. Do not go near the other men, or distract Aaron and Curt from keeping an eye on them. Keep your weapon on you at all times."

Kelsey and Bre quickly nodded. They knew the drill. This wasn't the first time they'd come across people who needed help. They each grabbed a ready emergency kit and headed over to the brothers.

Paul pulled a large, black tote bag from the back containing a large selection of emergency supplies and ran the way Aaron pointed. Since neither Dylan nor Wade were regular patients, he hoped they would recognize him.

Paul winced as one shot , then a second echoed through the trees. A flock of birds took flight, and everything was still for a moment. A roar shattered the silence. Small creatures scurried in fear and the heavy thuds of men fighting filtered through the woods.

Paul wasn't eager to join the fight, but he'd never been one to turn his back on someone in need either. He pushed through a final layer of brush and halted, throwing his hands in the air.

The scene was one Paul would never forget. The wild men of Colton had become wilder.

A shirtless Jesse stretched over Skye, one hand holding his bunched-up shirt to her bloody middle, the other on the leafy ground steadying him. His body shielded her as his stare fixed on Paul as he emerged from the brush. A look of pure resolve covered Jesse's young face.

Dylan stood guard, taunt and towering over both the woman and boy. Ready, with his crossbow in hand, and an icy glare in his eyes. Wade stood to his left, his own bow raised and his jaw firm.

If Paul wasn't already certain of their fierce determination to protect Skye, the low growl he swore was coming from the three of them proved it.

Paul's heart thumped. He had seconds to speak before an arrow found a bullseye in him. "I'm Paul, a doctor. I'm the doctor from-"

"From Colton," Wade said.

With those words, the weapons dropped, and Dylan motioned him over, his fierce expression turning to worry. "Can you help her, Doc?"

On his way, Paul saw four men laid out on the ground, two beaten, one twisted up, and one shot dead. He glanced at Dylan out of the side of his eye. How glad Paul was to be on the right side of the Wild Cole Brothers. He didn't say a word. It was clear these men would receive no treatment until Skye was cared for.

Crouching beside Skye, he examined her. Dylan, Wade, and Jesse barely gave him enough room, but he managed. Blood oozed from the numerous cuts covering her body and face. Several large bruises already formed including one on her forehead. Her shoulder was at an odd angle. Paul winced hoping it was an easy fix. The bullet would be, by far, her most serious injury. He worried it nicked her an organ.

While working, Paul glanced at Jesse. "How is it you and Skye are here with the Coles?"

"Skye, Wade, and Dylan saved me from my dad. We live with them now."

Paul looked at Dylan. Dylan stared back as if daring Paul to object.

Paul didn't. Instead, he said, "I should be able to help her, as long as there isn't more damage than I'm anticipating once I get in there."

"Okay, where?" Dylan quickly scanned the area. "How soon?"

"Back in the parking lot. I have a mobile medical trailer."

When Dylan rush to pick up Skye, Paul put a hand out to stop him. "Whoa, carefully, carefully. Slow and easy, that's the way we do this."

Dylan gave a sharp nod. "I can do that."

* * *

Dylan wiped the sweat from his forehead before he gently picked Skye up. His body was out of control, sweating and chilling at the same time. If Dylan let himself think at all, his mind immediately went to life without her. He was terrified.

Dylan did what he had seen Skye do many times. He hauled in a deep breath and slowly let it out. He could do this. Pick her up and walk back to the parking lot. Everything would be okay. The instant those words ran through his mind, he regretted it. They felt like a lie.

On the trip through the woods, Skye groaned a few times, and Dylan reassured her. She didn't fully wake, and everyone was grateful for that.

Once they arrived at the medical trailer, Dylan carefully laid Skye on the exam table. He leaned over her, and tenderly pushed her hair out of her bloodied face.

"Darlin'?"

Her green eyes fluttered open. Skye uttered a low groan but offered a little smile when she saw Dylan looking down at her.

"Dylan." She attempted to raise a hand to touch his face. When Skye failed, Dylan took her hand in both of his larger ones and bent his cheek to her. He needed to feel her warm touch. They gazed at each other before Skye drifted off again.

Paul started an IV. When he saw Dylan watching him, he explained. "Fluids. And meds to keep her sedated while I do my work." Then Paul turned to Dylan, attempting the most dangerous task he needed to perform, asking this man to leave. ”Dylan, if you would like to step out, I can begin."

"I ain't goin anywhere."

"Dylan, I need to concentrate on this. I can't do that if a family member is here. So if you could step out."

Dylan stared at Paul, letting him know what he thought. He didn't move.

Paul ignored his stubbornness. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last someone worried about their loved one. "And if you could send Bre in here, she will assist me."

"She's a kid. I'll help you." Dylan's gruff voice broke. "I -- I sent her out there. I did this. I can't leave her now, don't ask it."

"I don't know what happened, but I know you would never intentionally hurt this woman. You mooned over her before this all started. Frankly, I didn't think you stood a chance." Paul laughed. "Guess I was wrong."

"I didn't. Then the world ended, and everything changed." Dylan bent his head over Skye.

Paul put a hand on Dylan's shoulder. "You don't want to be here. I promise Bre is an excellent assistant. This would be a good time to get those men who did this back here and locked up in one of those trucks."

Dylan nodded. Keeping busy probably was the best thing. But before Dylan answered, a bang at the door and raised voices alerted them to Jesse's presence. "I wanna see her, and you can't stop me!"

Dylan grimaced, seeing himself in Jesse. "Let the boy see her, then we'll go and let you be about your work."

Paul nodded, and Dylan opened the door. Jesse burst in almost tripping into the vehicle as he did so.

Dylan righted him. "Hey, slow it down, boy."

Jesse fixed his gaze on Paul. "Did you fix her?"

"Not yet, as soon as you've seen her."

Jesse moved to Skye's side and looked down at her. "But you're gonna, right?" Jesse pleaded as he raised his hope-filled eyes back to Paul.

That was something a doctor could rarely answer with certainty, and Dylan knew it. He saved Paul from being forced to respond. "He's gonna do his best. Say what ya want to say, and we'll let him get to it."

Jesse laid his head on Skye's upper arm and moved her hand to sit on the back of his head mimicking the many times she'd smoothed his hair. He stayed there for a minute murmuring in her ear before standing up and scrubbing at his eyes. Jesse narrowed his eyes at Paul. "You better do a good job!"

"My very best, I swear."

"Okay, then." Jesse threw another suspicious look over his shoulder at Paul as he left.

* * *

Paul was pretty sure Dylan felt the same as Jesse. As he laid out his tools, he wondered how prim, proper Skye Jackson had gotten all tangled up with the Cole boys. Clearly, she and Dylan had a thing going on. Paul mainly knew her in a professional capacity. He would never have guessed this grit and determination lay under all that make-up and heels.

Paul chuckled. Well, you just never know, do you?

40

The End of Me

Dylan whistled sharply and nodded Jesse to follow him. They walked together to the box truck on the opposite side of the parking lot from the woods.

Dylan pointed at the vehicle. "If I can get that runnin, it'll be good for transporting the prisoners."

"Why are we doin this? We should be with Skye!"

"Best to let the Doc do what he's gotta. This'll keep us busy."

Jesse crossed his arms. "Busy don't mean I'll forget what's going on."

"No, it don't."

Dylan tried to shove any thought of what might be happening to Skye away. If he thought about that, he'd go crazy. And if he were honest with himself, it wouldn't bother him one bit to shoot those three in the head right here and let them rot. Not after what they had done to his woman and boy.

They were murderers and rapists. Destroyers. The one admitted it. If they were going to live by the gun, then they shouldn't be surprised when they died by one.

But he knew Tom tried to keep the law, as best he could. Dylan had been helping him do that. Now wasn't the time to be changing, no matter how much he wanted. Dylan trusted that Tom would handle the situation to his satisfaction. Those men would die at some point. If Dylan needed to wait a bit to help Tom, he could do that.

The box truck's engine roared to life when Dylan hot-wired it. He climbed into the driver's seat to find Jesse hurriedly rubbing at his tear-stained face with his shirt's long sleeve.

"You okay?" Dylan asked Jesse.

"I'm worried 'bout her."

"Yeah. Me too." Dylan patted the boy on the shoulder. Jesse seemed small sitting in the ample passenger's seat, but he was old enough. "I want you to see what happens to men that act like they do. You took what they dished out, and I'm proud of how ya did. Now you get the satisfaction of retribution."

Jesse's lips thinned as his face hardened. "What are we gonna do?"

"We're gonna load them, none too gently, into this truck like the animals they are and take 'em to town. Then we are gonna gladly watch as the law does its worst to them. They're gonna die Jesse."

"Good. They wanted my mom to die." Jesse glanced away and back. "What about my dad?"

Dylan was careful to keep his face impartial. "What do you want done?"

"Can we -- can we bury him?"

"We can do whatever you want."

Jesse nodded and looked up at Dylan. "He saved me, you know. And Skye too. He pushed the gun so it didn't kill her. That's why Calvin killed him."

Dylan raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know that.” It seemed, in the end, Frankie did something right. "We'll have a real nice burial for him."

Jesse rubbed his eyes again. "I'm sad even though he wasn't -- well, he wasn't--"

Dylan squeezed Jesse's shoulder. "We always love our parents, even when they don't deserve it. Can't help ourselves. Nothin to feel bad about."

Jesse nodded.

Dylan and Wade wrestled Calvin and Pete into the back of the truck as Jesse stood guard. If they needed to bash the vile degenerates now and again to get them to cooperate, they weren't overly upset about it.

Dylan, Wade, and Jesse stood over Tony. "This the one who wanted you dead?" Wade asked.

"Yep."

Wade kicked at Tony. "What d'you plan for this boy?"

Tony's gaze slid away. Dylan and Wade dragged him, screeching, through the woods and threw him onto the floor of the truck. They weren't too sure he'd make it back to Colton, but that didn't worry them much.

After that, they loaded Gregory and his men into the box truck too. Then they leaned on the bumper of a car facing the medical vehicle and willed the doors to open and everything to be okay.

It seemed forever before Paul stepped out. Dylan felt his heart sink, and the blood leave his face. He couldn't live without her. He couldn't--

Paul glanced up and smiled. Dylan sighed away all his anxiety.

Paul clapped Dylan on the shoulder. "She did real good. There wasn't near the damage I worried about. She's still out. Give her a minute to rest while I patch up these two," Paul indicated Aaron and Curt, "then I'll take you in to see her."

Wade smacked Dylan and Jesse on the back as they all beamed. "Looks like we might all make it home in one piece after all."

"I'm sure hopin so," Dylan said.

When Paul led them into the trailer, Skye rested easy. In spite of the low lighting, it was clear her color was better, and the blood washed from her face.

Dylan eased his way to her side and tenderly took her hand. "I remember the first day I saw her." He shot a quick glance at Wade. "Walkin down the sidewalk with that saucy way she has, in those fool-headed heels of hers. I've never cared much for those, but I knew right then, she could wear whatever she wanted." He chuckled as he slowly shook his head.

"Then the day Skye ran smack right into me, and I moved her out of the way. For the first time, I touched her." A smile curved the edges of his mouth. How had he got so lucky? Dylan's brow knitted. "When I saw her on the side of the road, my heart stopped. It stopped, Wade. I wanted her so bad I would've done anything she wanted. And it scared me to death. I knew it'd be the end of me. And I was right. From then to now, I've never wanted to be away from her, not for a day or an hour, even a minute. Every time I am, I'm just counting the seconds to when I'm near her again."

"I know, little brother," Wade said, "I know. I told ya, you got it bad."

"It ain't easy, bro."

"It sure ain't."

Skye stirred, her hand inching toward her gunshot wound until Jesse stopped her by taking it in his. "Hey, Mom."

"Hey, Baby," she said softly, opening her eyes and squeezing his hand.

She gave Wade, who stood at her opposite side, a smile before turning her eyes to Dylan. Carefully, he smoothed her hair from her forehead. "You're all patched up, darlin'. You ready to go home?"

"I am." Skye's green eyes were brilliant for a minute before turning hard. "Did you get them?"

"I did. We did. We got the degenerates all loaded up, ready to take to Tom. Then I'll just wait for the word."

Skye knew what he meant. He waited for the day he would play executioner. "They are evil, Dylan. The things they said they did."

"Don't you worry about that. We'll get it all figured out."

Skye nodded, putting her full trust in him that they would. Her eyelids drooped, she was still sleepy from the anesthesia.

Paul noticed. "If everything's ready out there, the best time to transport her is while she's sleeping."

"Sure thing, Doc," Wade said, "We're all ready."

All the supplies had been reloaded in a second box truck found at the back of the store. Aaron tried to drive, but given his beaten state had trouble. Paul sent Kelsey over to them.

As the timid girl got behind the wheel, Aaron and Curt exchanged a glance.

Paul laughed. "Yes, I know she's tiny, but she's a good driver. I have her take turns on that thing." He pointed to the medical trailer that was almost as long as a bus.

Curt leaned forward looking over his brother to see her. "How old are you, girl?"

Kelsey shot him a displeased look. "I'm fourteen, which means nothing now. I've been on my own for a while. So I -- I know how to do things, like drive big trucks."

Paul chuckled. "I leave you in good hands."

On their way out of the superstore's parking lot, Dylan looked back at his now bullet-riddled shiny new black truck and Skye's bright blue Jeep. He grimaced. Being a new truck owner hadn't lasted long. Surely there was a car lot somewhere with another pickup with his name on it. And he'd keep his eye open for another blue Jeep so he'd see Skye's dark hair waving in the wind.

In the meantime, he would enjoy hitting every pothole and dip in the road while listening to the thumps, curses, and moans of the rotten men in the back of the truck.

As they took the curve overlooking the store, Wade pointed back to the plaza. "Shoulda hit up that medical supplies place back there while we were at it."

"Doc, didn't say he was low on anything, did he?" Dylan asked.

"No, he didn't mention nothin."

"Let's worry about that another day then." Dylan put the truck in gear and roared up the hill. "I'm more’n ready to get home."

41

The Beginning of Them

Skye woke to bright morning sun and the bang of a hammer against wood. She smelled breakfast cooking before she heard it. The sizzle of eggs in the pan and a curse from Dylan right before something crashed.

"You okay in there?"

"Yep. Don't you worry about it."

Skye smiled. Dylan had been incredibly bossy with her since she'd been injured. Though she had to admit if the roles were reversed, she would be the same. Skye's injuries had been dangerous enough for constant monitoring, so if everything else hadn't scared him, that did. And he got pushy when he was scared. But then, Dylan was rather pushy all the time.

Skye didn't remember the trip back to the cabin. But as soon as they were able, Wade, Dylan, and Jesse caught her up on everything. Calvin, Pete, Tony, Gregory, and his men were all in Tom's jail awaiting trial. Tom wanted to do this by the book, and he'd somehow found a judge willing to make the trip to Colton to oversee the proceedings.

Jesse had given his dad a beautiful burial. Surprisingly, most of the Colton had turned up for it. Skye was sure that was more for Jesse than for his father. But in the end, Frankie had done the right thing, and it had cost him his life. Jesse could be proud of that, proud of his father now.

Tom and Tricia, along with the other Colton townsfolk, were preparing nearby empty cabins for their move to the mountain. Each time a hammer hit a nail, Skye got a little happier. Soon all her family would be together.

Dylan made his way over with Skye's breakfast. He handed her the plate and sat on the bed beside her. He took her hand, as he always did, with a slight question in his eyes. Dylan was sure of his own emotions but continued to be a little vulnerable about hers. Skye squeezed his hand, reassuring him as she did each time he came to her. His head dipped a little as he looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

From a clinical point of view, it made sense to Skye that it would take time for him to know their relationship was real. From a personal, though, she hoped it wasn't too long. Though a timid Dylan was rare and charming.

Already it was fading as Dylan cleared his throat and sat straighter. "Eat your breakfast now."

"You know, you're entirely too bossy for my taste lately." Skye laughed.

"Me? Woman, how dare you. You've been bossin me around for days."

"What?" she started to argue but looking around at where he pointed, she saw everything she'd ordered him to fetch. She shrugged and giggled, then raised his hand and kissed the back of it. "Okay, we're both bossy."

Taking a bite of fluffy eggs, she moaned her appreciation. The man sure knew how to cook. They ate quietly for a while, enjoying the peaceful time together. Skye looked around the cabin, then at Dylan. "I'm just happy to be safe at home."

Dylan let out a huff then stood and walked to the window. He leaned an arm against the trim as he stared outside. Skye wasn't sure what she said to provoke his reaction, but he would tell her if she gave him the time. It didn't take long.

"Skye, there ain't no place that's safe." Skye could tell from his low rough tone this wasn't something he wanted to discuss but felt he needed to.

"But-"

"No, there ain't." He turned back to Skye. Dylan threw his hand out. Exaggerated gestures meant he was upset, he needed her to understand. "Sometimes you take the longest time to get something in your head. All that's happened, and ya still don't get it? You're always lookin for the safe place but there ain't one. There never was. Do you think that Wade and I or Jesse had a safe place, ever? We've always been looking for the next blow. It's always coming from somewhere. You just have to figure out where. That big, fancy life you had, you didn't live in the real world. You lived in an illusion, a bubble, and you're still tryin to. It's time to stop. It's gonna get ya killed."

Dylan had lived in an entirely different world than she had before all this. He knew things, things that kept him alive, things that kept them all alive.

She needed to respect that. Dylan was right her big, fancy life had seemed safe. Yes, she'd had problems, large ones. But if she was honest, most of those were of her own making, nothing like Dylan's troubles.

While she needed to believe most people were good, there had always been those types like Calvin, who could quickly turn to evil if they let themselves. And there had always been those who only kept civility because they were forced to.

Dylan would view it differently, as the sad experiences in his life trained him to see it. He saw everyone as bad until they proved otherwise.

Skye lived in his world now. Seeing it Dylan's way was how she would stay safe, how she would help keep Jesse and her family safe.

"I understand, and I will work on that," she said in a quiet voice. "Still, I'm happy to stay home for a while, anyway. All this running around, climbing mountains, getting beat up and shot at is really not me."

Skye's effort to diffuse Dylan's emotion worked, and he smiled. "Really, I wouldn't've guessed that."

"Come here. Sit with me." When Dylan settled on the bed, she took his hand in one of hers. Skye raised the other to the side of his face and stroked his stubbled jaw. "I promise I won't do anything to jeopardize this family. Only save it. I trust you, I follow you, I love you. You just say the word, and I'm right there with you."

"Just say the word?"

"Yep."

"Anything I want?"

Skye laughed. "Anything within reason."

Dylan snorted. "Oh, now it's within reason. Always a catch with you."

Skye pulled at Dylan, raising her lips to his, savoring him when they met. Then she laid her head on his shoulder and breathed in his scent. This was exactly where she wanted to be. "I love you."

"I love ya too, darlin'."

Skye was a bit surprised the words came so quickly to him. "That's the second time you've said that. Some people have trouble with that."

"I've said it a lot more than two times. You just weren't awake to hear it." He pulled back a little and laid his forehead on hers, gazing into her eyes. "It ain't hard to say it to you, not at all."

Skye smiled and kissed him again. "It's a big deal."

He tried to dismiss it. "Yeah, whatever."

"No, not whatever. It means a lot to me." Skye ran her hand through Dylan's thick hair then teased him. "But I have to ask, the first time you told me you loved me, I get the crazy and terrible but wonderful? That's a bit optimistic for you, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well, I was in the moment," he smirked. "Don't hold it against me."

"Oh, I'm going to." Skye moved closer, wrapping her good arm around him. "I'm so going to hold it against you."

"Stop," he said even as he pulled her tighter.

The sudden pounding of feet on the wooden porch prepared them for Jesse's arrival. "We really need our own room," Dylan said, complaining about his one-room cabin, as he pulled away, grimacing his displeasure at the interruption.

Jesse chatted non-stop about his part in the building work. She recalled when it took everything she had to get him to say more than two words at the same time. A warm glow started as he continued his animated story. This was her son. She helped Jesse become this, something he would never have been without her.

"Come here." Skye waved him over when he stopped to take a breath.

"Not again!" Jesse moaned as he moved closer.

"Hugs on demand for the foreseeable future." Skye reminded him with her arm stretched toward him.

"Are ya gonna cry this time?" The boy eyed her wearily.

"I'm trying not too."

Jesse made an exasperated sound as he moved in for the forced affection. Skye kept it short, then ruffled his hair as he found a spot for himself on the bed.

Her face softened as she looked at Wade, who trailed in behind Jesse and now stood in the doorway, then to the boy and Dylan. This disease had taken so much from her, but it had also given her so much. Her family. A family she would never have had.

A man she would never have had.

Skye reached for Dylan's hand, interlacing her smooth fingers with his rough ones. Sometimes love didn't come with crashing cymbals and bright lights.

Sometimes it came quietly, in a small gesture or a touch. Something that began deep inside and grew until it breathed with every breath and throbbed with every heartbeat. Only then could one see it for what it was.

This was the strongest, surest love. One Skye was certain was right and true.

There had been no dressing up, no dating, just a quiet merge of two lives. A look between the two of them, a step toward each other, a matching of strides and there it was.

The beginning of them.

The End.

* * *

The Trial: Sanctuary’s Aggression 4 is coming soon! Also find out how the AgFlu began in Sea Bound.

Keep track of both by signing up for my newsletter at www.mairadawn.com.

About the Author

This is Maira Dawn’s fifth book in the continuing Sanctuary’s Aggression Series. Maira first wrote on Wattpad and quickly developed a large following. Sanctuary’s Aggression hit #1 on Wattpad in Science Fiction, Pandemic and other categories. The series is now being released on Amazon.

If you enjoyed the book, Maira would love to hear about it. Leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads is a big help to indie authors.

You can also find Maira on Facebook and Twitter. If you would like to sign up for her newsletter, you can do so at www.mairadawn.com.

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