Rebecca had never used a medical kit to intimidate someone before this ridiculous sidetrack of theirs, but she liked trying new things, and rotated the bag so Stephanie would see the large red cross on the side in response to her amateur attempt at a passing withering glare.

She didn't quite get her wish of avoiding the very sight of the little witch, but there was nary a peep as she strode past her at the water pump, which she'd absolutely settle for.

Sam and Epstein were off to configure a radio in a leftover Humvee and would probably take close to half an hour. That was just for the work itself, not including testing, so in Dylan's absence Rebecca helped Landry into his hammock and set out in search of hot water and her other friends.

It was surreal, contemplating how the allies Sam was setting up the radio to call were mere yards from where Rebecca used to live before all the madness started. Meanwhile, here she was off on a crazy ride with people she might have never met in a "normal" life. Really spoke to the whole "no frickin' clue where life will take you" thing.

On such topics, Dylan waved to her from the barn's entrance, holding up a lightly crinkled piece of paper she'd been passing around for them as Rebecca drew near. Rebecca unfolded it and skimmed the assortment of many different handwritings — names, ages, home towns, even Social Security numbers for people who were willing to put them down. Dozens of additions for the list Sam had conceived and kickstarted back home.

Thinking of her drew Rebecca's eye to the top line, in Sam's familiar tidy block print — Joel Conroy, 52, Post Oak VA. Ouch. For some reason, the distinctive little loop Sam always put in the angled bars of her "k" stung Rebecca with sympathetic sadness. It's always the details that sneak up...

Realizing Dylan was still right in front of her, she quickly concealed her feelings and folded the paper again. "Thanks, this is great. And, thanks for looking after L— Nick while we're gone. I haven't known him too long, but he seems like a decent guy."

Dylan smiled — more than simple politeness required, Rebecca noted. "Of course. I'm amazed how positive he can still be! It seems to be really good for Jack, he's bouncing back better than I'd feared he would." She glanced into the barn contemplatively, then looked back to Rebecca with a burdened expression. "But, I still can't believe that you are thanking me for anything. After you and most of your friends got hurt literally saving us."

Rebecca shrugged. She didn't want to get into her own sense of guilt about it all — especially since she had pushed so hard for immediate action specifically because of Jack's plight. No sense making Dylan feel worse. "It was the right thing to do."

"Not many people do that these days."

That gave Rebecca pause as she thought back to multiple lectures from Ronnie and Sam, but she temporarily brushed that aside too while Dylan continued.

"Well, I hope you find your family, and maybe we'll see you again — hopefully even at the new camp."

"Mmm, maybe don't call it that during your sales pitches, huh? Too many negative associations. Work, labor, prison..."

Dylan grimaced. "Eh, good point. Farm? Homestead?" She stepped out of the way and followed Rebecca after seeing her nod to indicate she wanted to head inside.

"Homestead, for sure. But, yeah, thanks. Hopefully we'll see you there sometime."

Dylan excused herself to check on Jack, an opportunity Rebecca took to drift to the barn's wood stove and get a kettle of water going — blue enamel with little white flecks, very appropriate for the rustic setting. While it heated, she started gathering the smaller items she'd unpacked near the cots, with the intention of moving on to Sam's stuff after. Instead, she was pleasantly surprised when Dylan joined her and started rolling up their bedding — but Dylan got distracted for a moment marveling over Sam's combat gear hanging over a nearby chair.

"Wow. I didn't get a good look at all this in the dark. You really are packing."

"Eh...as much as Mags made your lives hell, she's kinda small time. There's bigger bullies out there. But, we punched them in the face pretty good and took some of their stuff, so there you are." Rebecca nodded at the armor and helmet with the NVG still attached.

"Really? Wow. You seemed to do okay against those scarier folks."

"Mostly." Rebecca unzipped her double-weight hoodie enough to slide it off her shoulder, then pull the sleeve of her shirt back to show Dylan her scar. Months later, it didn't twinge anymore but the twisting gash still felt weird under her fingers. If Sam and Ronnie hadn't cleaned it up so well, it probably would have looked even worse, or maybe even interfered with her range of motion. "They repeatedly underestimated us and we were pretty lucky, but there were still losses. It was definitely a near thing."

Dylan's eyes widened at the sight. "Dang. I hope you're not making it a habit to get hurt."

Rebecca laughed as she rolled her sleeve back down. "You and me both!"

"I guess that's a good argument for considering your invitation, not trying to strike out on our own."

"Maybe someday as society re-establishes itself, but for now, it's pretty much strength in numbers out there. Just... not Mags' kind, hopefully."

Dylan set Sam's large camping backpack on the cot next to her rolled up sleeping bag. "Here's hoping, right? I'd like to think basic humanity will gradually win out again."

"Well, I'm not sure how much you heard about how this thing got started, but... yeah. Let's hope for a one-step-back, two-step-forward thing as far as general humanity goes." Rebecca pushed away the thought that humanity had taken a hell of a lot more than one step back and stacked her pack on the cot just like Dylan had done with Sam's.

They made small talk about each other's pasts while Rebecca waited for the water to heat. When she could hear the water churning inside the kettle, she fished a teabag out of her pocket and opened the larger of her steel water bottles, but paused. When Dylan accepted her offer to share, she dropped the bag into the kettle instead, then poured off some of the resulting steeped brew into Dylan's mug before filling her insulated bottle with the remainder.

She hadn't simply sat and chatted with someone new over tea or coffee in months. Cementing her relationship with Sam notwithstanding, the last time she'd really done it platonically was getting to know Chrissie in those same fall and winter months. Not that she'd done it much before Sam coaxed her the rest of the way out of her shell either. Still, it was a refreshingly pleasant way to spend her time waiting for Christine or Sam to come find her. She was careful to dance around the topic of Jack's father — Dylan hadn't brought him up, and Rebecca knew all too well how delicate the shell people encased their grief with could be, how easily a small crack could spread into a whole spiderweb of widening fractures.

Chrissie found her a few minutes before Sam did, during which time they determined the past few days had used up roughly a third of the ammunition they'd brought with them — less of Chrissie's shotgun shells, significantly more of Sam's .45 rounds thanks to Epstein's heavy trigger finger. So much for the briefly passing idea of leaving the SMG behind for Landry with its lighter recoil; it seemed that particular alacritous viper needed to stay in the hand of tamer who knew how to manage it judiciously, not let it empty its fangs on the first strike.

A fair amount of the ammo collected by Mags' people had been in the house they'd rocketed, so they ended up deciding to leave Landry and the locals 200 rounds of their 5.56 rifle & carbine ammo. That was nearly half their remaining supply, but not counting the 180 in Rebecca's big magazines for her Tavor. Their medkits were another matter; they'd probably used a quarter of their gauze and another third of their painkillers. Rebecca told Chrissie to leave Landry one small kit, plus half of their remaining meds.

She looked up and smiled when Sam joined them, lifting one hand to invite her closer. That brightened Sam's expression significantly and she brushed her hand through Rebecca's and then settled both of hers lightly on her girlfriend's shoulders. "Hey, Sparky. Looks like you found your tea."

Rebecca paused the reply she was about to make and looked back over her shoulder at Sam with a silent quizzical half-smile, half-frown.

Sam tilted her head. "What?"

"You haven't called me that much lately, and now that's twice in a week."

"Oh." Sam chuckled. "I guess I was reminiscing a bit and it slipped back into the foreground. Do you mind?"

Rebecca put her right hand on top of Sam's with a light pat. "Nah, it's fine. A fun reminder of our early days I guess."

The early days, when their world was a lot smaller, and maybe even gentler.

**

"Are you sure you don't want to eat again before you go? We can see what else we can whip up, send you off on a full stomach." Dylan was pulling a total mom move as they made final preparations for departure. They'd used the Humvee's reconfigured radio to do their check-in as a final test, the vehicles were topped off and inspected to Epstein's satisfaction, gear was loaded.

Rebecca smiled at Dylan appreciatively. "No, thank you. We'd have another sixty or seventy miles to drive a couple years ago, and now, trying to get around congestion and avoiding any more unpleasantries will probably make it more like a hundred. We should make the most of the daylight while we can."

Dylan clearly saw the validity of her reasoning, but wasn't happy about it. "Alright. Well... be safe, try not to run into any more people who need rescuing, okay?"

Sam looked up from the map she was using to show Landry their intended routes. "Oh, that's definitely the plan."

"Careful sister, you know what they say about those. First contact and all," Landry quipped next to her.

Sam could produce some quality glares, and leveled a stellar example of her abilities at him. "I'd like to think we appeased Murphy and his laws with this little side trip. Don't jinx us, please."

"Yes ma'am!"

Sam made eye contact with Rebecca and sent her a little wink — likely taking the opportunity to tease her about Landry's word choice — and turned her attention back to the map.

Rebecca shook her head and squatted down to eye level with Jack, patting him on the shoulder. "Hey big guy. You take care of yourself and your mom, okay?"

She had to put one hand down on the ground to catch her balance when he flung himself forward to hug her. After that, he stepped back to his mother's side and snapped off what was actually a pretty passable salute — maybe he'd been practicing with a certain convalescing Specialist. "Yes ma'am!"

"Oh jeez. Don't you start too, buddy." Rebecca rose to her feet again and accepted an incoming embrace from Dylan. "Give Charles a hug for me too, and tell him not to feed Landry too much. His ribs are still healing, it won't be good to stuff him silly."

"Hey, I heard that sister!"

Rebecca stuck her tongue out at him as she swapped places with Sam and gave Landry a careful hug. "You take it easy, mister. You're still in a few different pieces."

"I know, I know. Be safe out there."

"You too. Don't fall out of the hammock."

"Hah! Well played." He clasped forearms with her as she stepped back, and then she thumped her knuckles against his.

"That's from Epstein. At least, I figure he sends something like that from the luxurious back seat he's lounging in."

"I guess we'll both be sitting pretty for a while. There are far worse places to recuperate."

Rebecca smirked. "Oh, come on. Ronnie says the big hospital at Ramstein AFB wasn't so bad."

"For something built in 1950! It's a shame the new one never got finished."

"There's a lot of things to say that about these days."

Landry's tone sobered, a rare thing. "True that, sister. Be careful. I do hope you find her."

"Thanks, man." She stepped back to wait for Sam to finish saying goodbye to Dylan and her son.

When Sam was done, she moved beside Rebecca while Patrick and Christine got their farewells in. She interlaced their fingers and gave a few encouraging tugs while speaking just loud enough for only Rebecca to hear. "Hey, we're finally gonna do this."

Rebecca knew she wouldn't have made it this far without Sam's help — certainly not by now, — and squeezed her hand in silent gratitude.

By the vehicles, they each slung their armor on loosely, connecting the side buckles but not cinching them. The cabin was stocked just like they were any two college kids on a road trip — bottles in the cupholders, snacks in the center console, phones hooked up to the USB chargers. The maps on the dashboard were a little old school, but no big deal... then there were the helmets and SMG in Sam's footwell and the long guns arrayed in the back. Totally normal, right? As much as anything else, anyway.

Rebecca glanced back one last time at the small crowd seeing them off, then looked across at Sam. They shared a slight nod, hauled themselves in simultaneously, and closed the doors after them. The confident rumble of the SUV's V8 coming alive was oddly reassuring for Rebecca — a sensory confirmation that they were, in fact, finally leaving.

She waved to their well-wishers one last time when she finished backing out onto the dirt road, shifted into drive, and had to resist the tingling urge to stomp the gas pedal to the floor. She wasn't sure exactly when the conversation had happened amongst all the craziness of the last few days, but remembered Sam's confession that the car chase had spooked her, reminded her of an accident she was in. They both seemed in decent spirits now, and the last thing Rebecca wanted to do was dig up any unpleasantness. Let them both have the fleeting positivity for however long it lasted.

They were both quiet for a while after Sam confirmed her initial music selection was acceptable, but after they reached a proper road some ten minutes later, Rebecca spoke up.

"Damn, it feels good to have pavement under the wheels again."

Sam blew out a relieved sigh. "Yup. I'm not the only one who feels like a weight's been lifted, am I?"

"Hell no. It's like I can breathe again. Let's get on with that change of scenery, huh?" Rebecca knew Sam had picked out several route segments and observation points prioritizing long sight lines. No more surprises. "Where to first, Rosie?"

"Head for that ridgetop road we were on, then follow it 'til I tell you otherwise."

"Yes, ma'am."