She looked uninjured and in great shape and to Judd she was pleasant enough, unlike the stories he had heard about nuns. But in the five minutes he had met her, he was really close to telling her, "Step back a little, Sister." Because instantly she grabbed on to Dawson's hand and wouldn't let go. Keeping him close as they walked. Maybe Judd was making too much out of it but it seemed to him that through her actions she was almost saying, she was better qualified to watch out for Dawson.

Sister Helena wasn't fazed by Tire Man in the back of the truck, she did eye up the boat without scoffing, then asked Judd to follow her. Judd grabbed his main back pack and went with her. Tire Man never moved.

"You're a God send," she told him.

"I wouldn't say that," Judd replied as they walked toward the town of Lodi.

"I would. I was praying for help and then I heard you singing."

"You need help?" Judd asked.

She nodded. "Well, not me, personally. Father Basko."

"Wow, I have been to this town. I didn't know it had a big Catholic employee population."

She smiled. "You're funny." Then she looked down to Dawson. "He's funny."

"Mr. Heston is nice," Dawson said. "He's been taking care of me."

"Heston?" She tilted her head. "What a wonderful name. I'll take that as a sign as well."

"What's wrong with Father Basko?" Judd asked.

"We stopped here for the night, to rest up for our journey. Get supplies and he was injured."

"I'm not real good with medical stuff," Judd said. "I'm not sure how I can help."

"You're bigger and stronger than me. You can help," she said.

"Where are you traveling from?"

"Erie," she answered. "We have been hitting towns along the way. Looking for survivors. Especially when we got the message."

Judd stopped walking. "From God?"

"No. No." She smiled. "A man on the radio back in Erie. We've been fortunate enough to dodge the deadly weather, but any more delays we won't be."

Judd looked around, he was near center town of Lodi, and it hadn't changed at all. His eyes were locked on the gazebo in the town square.

"Mr. Heston?" she called him.

Judd snapped out of his day dream.

"This way." She pointed to the building with the sign, 'Lodi Village Office' across the street. "Please."

As they cross the street, Judd noticed a short yellow school bus parked outside, he didn't think much of why it was there, he followed Sister Helena.

"We were staying here. It was easy."

"There's a drug store," Judd said, giving a nod of his head to the large chain drug store a block away. "Were you able to get supplies there to help?"

"That's not the type of help I need." She opened the door. "This way."

They walked through a small reception area, and that was when she finally released Dawson's hand.

Dawson stopped in the middle of the room. He looked around. "How many people are with you?"

Judd found it curious that the child would ask that, then he noticed the sleeping bags, the leftover food on the table.

"Please," she beckoned and disappeared into the back office. "Father, I found help."

Judd looked at Dawson then stepped forward.

"Judd," Dawson whispered.

"What?"

"Don't make me hold her hand anymore."

Judd winked and mussed his hair, then walked into the office.

He expected to see the priest, maybe on a couch or something. He didn't expect to see him lying on the floor, pinned underneath a huge shelf. His face was black and blue and his eyes were puffy. To Judd he looked like he had taken a hell of a beating.

"Oh my God," Judd rushed to him. "How long has he been like this?"

"Since late last night," she answered. "I couldn't move it."

"Can you help him, Judd?" Dawson asked.

"Gonna try." Judd crouched down to the older priest. "Father, can you hear me?"

Father Basko coughed and nodded. "Yes, thank you. Thank you for coming."

"I'm going to try to lift this," Judd said. "Then we'll get you off the floor. Does anything hurt?"

"My chest. I can't breathe well."

Judd examined the shelf, it was about six feet tall, thick and cherry oak. The contents of the shelf were on the floor around Father Basko. They were probably the reason for his bruised face. They more than likely fell on him. It was going to be tricky. If Judd could get it high enough, he could use his back to push it up against the wall.

He knew it would be heavy, Judd didn't think it would weigh as much as it did. On his first attempt, he lifted it a few inches causing Father Basko to cry out when he levered it up, and then again when he lowered it back down.

"Sister, I am going to move this up. You are gonna have to slide him out. Father?" Judd asked. "Can you move your legs?"

With a pained expression, Father Basko nodded. "Yes."

"She's gonna grab you under your arms and pull, if you can shift your body scoot her way. Okay?"

"Yes." He nodded.

"Ready, Sister?"

Sister Helena scurried around to Father's head and placed her hands under his back.

"Wait," Dawson called out. "You're doing it wrong!"

Judd paused. He was at the top of the shelf. "What do you mean?"

"You're trying to lift it upright. Just lift it from the side and flip it. There's room. Flip it."

"Dawson, that's a great idea, buddy." Judd moved his position to the side. He nodded to Sister Helena and while it wasn't any easier or lighter to lift, he was able to use the weight of the shelf to tip and tilt. He held it there until Helena freed Father Basko. Once the priest was clear, unable to flip it entirely, Judd let it fall back to the floor.

Father Basko cried out in pain.

"Did you get medication from the drug store?" Judd asked. "Pain stuff?"

Sister Helena shook her head no.

"Let's get him to the couch, you stay with him and I'll see what I can get."

"We don't have time," she said. "We have to keep moving."

"There is no medical attention around here. We're it." Judd said. "We can't move him. Not yet."

"We don't have time."

"All we have is time." Judd said. "Dawson, give me a hand with the Father."

"What do you need me to do?" Dawson asked.

"Clear the couch." He looked down to the priest. "Can you handle it if I help you up? It's only a few feet to the couch."

"I'll manage."

Judd braced under Father's Basko's arms and lifted him. He knew it hurt the priest, he could tell by the way his body tensed and Father Basko fought back grunting in pain. Sister Helena helped get him to the couch.

Once he was settled, Judd leaned down. "Father, I am not a doctor. I have a book in my bag that tells me how to do basic First Aid and stuff, but I need your help. When I was nine, my father took me to this fishing spot. Man, it was a long hike. I fell. I felt really bad. It was a long way back and my dad asked me to know my body. What was wrong. That way he could gauge. So I am asking you to tell me what I need to focus on. What is happening with you that needs fixed."

"My sternum," he answered with labored breath. "My ankle."

"Okay, I'll see if I can find stuff over at the drug store. I'll be back. I'll get you pain medicine, too. You allergic to anything?"

He shook his head no.

Judd stood up. "Come on Dawson, come with me." He paused and looked at the shelf. "How does something like this happen?" Judd asked. "It's too big to fall on its own."

"It was a terrible accident," Sister Helena answered.

"It was no accident," Father Basko said.

"It was an accident." She reiterated.

"No, it wasn't!" Father Basko insisted.

Judd whistled. "Okay, Sister did you do this to him?"

"What?" she said in shock. "No."

"Dawson said it looked like others were here. Were others with you?" Judd asked. "You said you were looking for survivors."

"We were," she replied.

"You found no one?"

"Oh, there are many out there. They just are heading west and wouldn't travel with us."

"Neither should you," Father Basko said. "You and the boy go. Don't let our burden be yours."

"What's going on?" Judd asked.

"You and I. We think alike." Sister Helena said. "Father Basko disagrees."

"Sister, I don't want to be rude, but I don't know what you're talking about," Judd said.

"This way." After touching Father Basko's arm, telling him she'd be back, she walked from the office.

Judd and Dawson followed her.

She continued outside and pointed to the bus. "You have a man in the back of your truck. Why?"

Judd looked to Dawson first. "He wanted to come. He saved Dawson's life."

"You see a human being in him, right?" she asked. "To you he's not dangerous."

"Right now. Yeah."

"Yes, well, I can't see danger either. I can't leave them. They'd die without me."

Judd was about to ask her to clarify, but she kept looking at the bus. Instead of asking, he walked to the open door.

"Judd, don't," Dawson said. "I got a bad feeling."

"It'll be fine. Stay here." Judd walked up the first step and into the bus. When she brought up Tire Man, Judd pretty much expected to see a couple people like Tire Man in the bus, what he didn't expect to see were children.

About a dozen of them sat on the bus, all different ages. They sat there staring forward, until they noticed him and all of them, at the same time, looked his way. They stared at him, just watching, not moving.

Judd stood there a moment, which was as long as he could stand to. Looking at them all, a chill shot through his spine. To him it was freaky. They were children, yet something about them scared the hell out of him. Judd left the bus immediately.


What was Ross thinking? He wasn't a coward. He never ran from problems. In fact, he was the guy on the force they said never thought of himself when running into dangerous situations. Yet, there he was, beating the pavement racing, it was a good two blocks before he stopped, turned around and ran back.

The distance was short, however the guilt he carried weighed him down. All he could see was the SUV and the mob that completely engulfed it. They weren't flesh eating creatures, but they were dangerous in a way Ross didn't understand.

Morgan had likened them to a boa constrictor, pressing and squeezing their victims. Ross didn't figure out the why of it. Maybe they just wanted to eliminate what they thought was a threat.

At the moment it was Morgan.

Was his distain towards her so bad that he chose to let her die rather than deal with her? Instantly he became the bad guy, no matter what he did in the past, or would do in the future, leaving her forever defined him.

He raged toward the mob, wielding the bat, swinging it to get through. None of them paid attention. A few fell from the hits, but he didn't make a dent. He powerhouse blow was delivered with emotion and guilt.

Like the regrets the mobbing people weren't going away.

Finally he realized he couldn't do it. He was down. Defeated. He alone was responsible for the death of the only other living person.

Arms and back aching, chest heavy with emotions and breathing labored, Ross dropped the bat and walked backwards. He turned when he was far enough away from the SUV, placed his hand on his knees, bent over slightly and caught his breath.

There was a tap on his back.

He stood straight, and turned around.

Morgan stood there.

"Oh my God," he gushed out.

"You son of a bitch," she said with words deep and gutsy.

Ross wasn't expecting it, and barely saw it coming. The moment she spoke she swung out the bat and connected it to him.

It was lights out.


Morgan didn't hesitate. There were no regrets or guilt. Not a single smidgeon of her conscience was bothered by it. After nailing Ross, she left him. On the street, not far from the SUV and the mob of depraved people.

She didn't give him a second thought. Morgan was enraged.

How dare he?

There she was, fighting for her life, those… things grabbing for her, pulling her hair. She was injured, her ribs still hurt badly. Yet, Ross took a couple pitiful swings in the truck, then opened his door.

She thought he was coming to help her and in her mind that was dumb, because the second he flew out, she was released enough to scurry to his door and get out.

Once she made it outside of the vehicle, she knew he wasn't coming to save her, he was running and leaving her to die.

She stood for a moment in shock.

He left her? He just ran and left her.

In that few seconds she really justified what he did. Maybe he was scared, thought she was dead. Then it hit her that he was a coward and he just left her all alone and Morgan became livid. How dare he abandon her! She moved toward the closest building.

She thought about running after him, then he turned around to run back.

Even those actions didn't stifle her anger, it fueled her emotions. He came back after the fact, when guilt hit him. She charged his way to verbally attack him, blast him for what he did, and then she saw him drop the bat.

That bastard.

She grabbed it and as he faced her, she hit him hard. Not knowing if he was dead or alive, or even caring, Morgan left him. Unlike Ross, she left him in the road, without a second thought and didn't care if those things to get him. He deserved it.


"Can we just go, please," Dawson asked as he stayed close to Judd, walking to the drug store, not far from where they left the sister and priest. He moved fast, probably faster than he should have. "I don't want to be here. I want to leave."

"I know, Buddy."

"How did that shelf fall on him?"

"I don't know."

"You heard him, he was scared. Never knew a priest to be scared like that."

Judd stopped when they entered. "It's a new world, none of this ever happened. Of course, he's scared. We're all a little scared."

"Yeah, but he doesn't look like he watched a scary movie scared, he looks like he's living scared."

"That's perceptive. Pharmacy is back there." Judd pointed. "Why don't you look around for things."

"No. No way. I'm staying right by you."

"That's fine, too." Judd led the way.

"I want to go. Let's go back to the truck and just leave. Please."

"Dawson, we have to help the priest. Come on, I saw that Catholic school uniform. I would think you'd want to help the priest."

"No, I didn't like the priest at our school. Besides…we can get him his pills and whatever else you want, then can we go. Please, can we just leave?"

"You just want to leave them?"

"You heard her," Dawson said. "She wants to leave now. Get her the stuff and she'll leave."

"Well maybe we help her and all leave together. We still have a lot of daylight left and we…"

"No!" Dawson snapped. "No, you seen them Trancer kids, right? They're bad. I need to get away from the Trancer kids."

"Trancer?" Judd asked.

"My name for them. Because they look like they're in a trance."

Closed mouth, Judd bobbed his head from side to side. "That's a good name for them. Easier to say, 'look out there's a Trancer'."

"Yes, and we need to look out," Dawson said. "I got a bad feeling. Made my stomach flop. More than Tire Man. I think we should leave him, too."

"Whoa, Whoa. Wait," Judd held up his hand. "Not an hour ago you were feeding him a peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Now you want to ditch him?"

"That's because an hour ago, he was by himself. What if they work like dumb animals? Like they do whatever the others do."

Judd walked behind the pharmacy counter. He grabbed a flashlight and looked at bottles. "I didn't think of that."

'Ever see the movie Village of the Damned?"

Judd laughed. "Yeah, and I can't believe you did."

"I didn't want to, yet I did. O was torn. All those kids had like a bug in them and when they were together they worked like one brain."

"I assure you this is not the case," Judd said.

"How do you know?"

"Because this isn't sci-fi shit, or aliens, this is… nature." His hand moved about as he talked. "Something that caused people to drop dead, it didn't kill everyone, the ones it partially affected are your… Trancers. Probably brain damage. We haven't seen anything to make us think they're dangerous."

"Liar."

"What the hell, Dawson." Judd shook his head and then smiled when he found a bottle of pain pills. "This will work." He faced Dawson. "Why'd you call me a liar?"

"Cause you saw something in Tire Man. I saw your face."

"He just acted weird when I reached for his food."

"Like an animal," Dawson said. "Please."

"Tell you what. I feel bad leaving that nun alone with all those kids and the priest, but you are my priority. If you look me in the eyes and tell me to leave and do so after we give them the pills and bandages, we will."

"Which eye?" Dawson asked.

"What?"

"I can only look in one eyes at a time."

"Wow that is so cool you asked that. They say when you look in a person's left eye your lying. So the right please."

Dawson focused on Judd's right eye. "I won't feel bad, it's the right thing to do, let's leave after you give them the stuff."

"Then we will." Judd rubbed Dawson's head. "Let's finish up and go."

Dawson exhaled a breath of relief that moved his entire body. He felt better, but that didn't stop him from continuously looking behind him.


The trip to the drug store was a good thing and not just for medication. It was food for the soul. Dawson took a bag and loaded it with candy. Judd thought smarter, granola, crackers, juice, stuff like that. Not Dawson, he didn't even get normal candy. He picked the stuff that old people usually ate. Butterscotch and chewy gummy candies.

He moved a lot more lighter and upbeat as if the weight of the world was off his shoulders.

The more Judd thought about it, the more he liked the idea of just him and Dawson on the road.

"Thinking about it," Judd said as they walked. "We got about seven hundred and some miles to Branson. If we hit a decent amount today, like a couple hundred, stop for the night, we'll hit Branson by tomorrow."

"You think anyone is in Branson?" Dawson asked.

"I don't know. But it looks cool, right?" Judd asked.

"It does." Dawson agreed.

"And it's a goal. Something like this, we need a goal."

"What happens if no one is there?"

Judd shrugged. "Then we pick another goal. Sadly, the world is ours. We can do what we want, right."

"We don't know that. There might be people on the other side of the country."

"True. There might be. We just…" Judd noticed Dawson stopped cold at the school bus.

"Hey, pal," Judd put his hand on Dawson's back. He looked up quickly saw the kids all staring out the windows, hands against the glass, then he looked away. "Don't worry about them, okay? We won't be with them."

Slowly, without saying a word Dawson lifted his arm and pointed.

"What? What's wrong?" Then Judd saw. He didn't at first. In the middle of the short bus, staring out the window, was Tire Man.

"He joined them," Dawson said. "See?"

"I see we just got a guilt free way of leaving Tire Man behind. Let's go,"

While Judd projected confidence, he wasn't. The sight of Tire Man on the bus with the kids… scared the hell out of him.


"No!" Dawson screamed out. It was the first time that he acted in a temper tantrum manner.

Judd pulled him aside. "Little man, come on."

"You promised. You promised."

"We are still leaving," Judd then dropped his voice to a whisper. "We're not traveling with the kids. I promise you that."

Dawson shifted his eyes to Sister Helena. She held on to Father Basko, supporting him around the waist.

They returned from the store and handed over the medicine, then Judd helped clean up and bandage Father Basko. Dawson was alright with that, until Sister Helena said. "I'll drive the bus. Can he ride in the back of your truck? He can't sit up. He has to lay flat."

He saw the look on Judd's face. He was caving in. Judd was a 'yes' man who couldn't say 'no'.

So Dawson did. At first, he was calm and even tried to be mature. "No, Sister we're leaving."

Sister Helena smiled politely. "We all are."

"No," Dawson said. "We're leaving alone."

"Mr. Heston?" She looked at Judd.

Judd cleared his throat. "Sister, we have a destination and we kind of want to get going."

Sister Helena chuckled in disbelief. "You made me wait. I wanted to leave, get him help at another stop, but you asked me to wait until you got the medication."

"Now he is fit to travel," Judd said. "He wasn't before."

"Please." She stepped to him and grabbed his hands. "Please don't leave me to do this alone. I will if I have to. We are all survivors in this. We should be together."

Judd relented and Dawson freaked out.

"Let them go," Father Dawson said kindly. "Sister, let them leave. I'll be fine here."

"No you won't," she looked at him. "You know what's coming."

"Not for certain. The child is frightened and rightfully so. I'm frightened. I'll stay. Take those… children and do what you need to do."

Judd held up his hand. "Father, you aren't well enough to be alone. Let me talk to Dawson, I'm sure he just doesn't understand…"

"Oh, he understands," Father Basko said. "Probably better than you. Probably better than us all. Whether you believe it is fate or God, either way, there is a reason those of us who survived, did, and are together the way we are. You and he are partners."

In his mind, Dawson whined an "Aw" then huffed a little. "Fine. Fine." He quickly tried to change his brash behavior. "It's okay. He can ride with us in the back. It ain't him anyhow."

Suddenly, Sister Helena looked hurt. Her expression dropped.

Dawson held up his hand. "It's not you Sister Helena. It's not. You seem nice. It's the kids in the bus. Ever been bullied? I have. You see a bully and you know it's coming. I see those kids and know it's coming." He grabbed Judd's hand. "Let's go get the truck."

Father Basko lay his hand on Dawson's head. "Thank you."

"Just don't tell me to confess. I hate confession. I didn't like having to go. Since we don't have school anymore I wanted to say that."

Judd smiled as he looked down at him, told Father Basko and the Sister they'd be back and they left the main street of Lodi to get the truck. They had to drive around the Semi to get into town, it took about fifteen minutes.

When they returned, they took cushions from the couches in the administration building, placed Father Basko in the back, and then using the tarp from the boat they created a tent over the back in case it rained.

And it did. Not hard, but a steady drizzle.

The last thing Dawson remembered was Judd telling him as long as they moved slowly, they could keep going on the highway until dark.

The steady rain coupled with the rhythm of the moving truck, and with the fact he hadn't slept much, made him tired. He started dozing off and on while Judd talked, then Dawson propped his head against the truck passenger door and fell asleep.

Until the truck slowing down and stopping was like an alarm clock.

He was dreaming again about that guy named Bill in Branson, waving his arm, yelling "Come to Branson." He wanted to look at the brochure to see if Bill was on it, maybe that was why he was dreaming of the strange man.

He thought that too, in his dream until he woke and sat up with a start.

"Why are we stopping? What's wrong?" Dawson asked.

Judd pointed.

Dawson couldn't see over the dashboard, but Judd opened his door. "Judd!"

Once Judd stepped out, Dawson did the same. He climbed down and by the time he walked around the truck he saw why Judd stopped.

A woman walked towards them. She held her side, her brown hair was pulled into a pony tail, she looked beat up like Father Basko, but she smiled as she looked at Judd.

Dawson hurried and ran around and caught up to Judd just as he approached her.

"Thank God," she said. "I ran out of gas. There's nothing around. I didn't think I'd see another person" She looked at Dawson and smiled. "Hey there."

"Hey." Dawson lifted his hand. She looked harmless.

"Can I ride with you?" she asked. "I have my own supplies." Her eyes shifted. "Is that a nun driving that bus?"

"Yep. Sure is," Judd said. "And…" he looked at Dawson. "Is it okay she come with us? Or do you want her to ride on the bus? Or perhaps you want to leave her behind?"

"Can't leave her behind. Jeez, you make me sound bad," Dawson said. "She can ride with us. Besides the bus is too crowded anyhow."

Her eyes widened. "That many people?"

Dawson grumbled. "If you wanna call them that."

"What?" she asked, confused.

Judd waved out his hand. "I'm sure he'll tell you all about it in the truck. Come on. Do you need help with your stuff?"

"No, I'll get it. It's just a backpack." She moved quickly, even with a limp, to her car. She grabbed a backpack and returned.

"You been alone?" Judd asked. "Seen anyone else?"

She paused. "No. No one. I've been alone."

"I'm Judd and this is Dawson."

"Nice to meet you. Thank you again. I won't be a bother." She held out her hand. "Morgan. My name is Morgan."


The pain was intense from his cheekbone to his temple. That was where Ross took the hit. He saw it coming and couldn't react. Morgan nailed him so hard, he literally saw stars and then nothing.

He deserved it.

It didn't matter what kind of person she was, leaving her behind to die was not the kind of person Ross was.

He was still on the street, trying to make it through the pain. He lay on the ground in a semi-curled position. He moved his head slightly to press his aching cheek to the damp and cold ground. It felt good. His face was swollen, he could feel the pressure against his eye. Ross moved his hand to feel his face and in doing so, his hand hit something. He widened his fingers to feel.

It was a foot.

Ross opened his eyes.

He was surrounded, all he could see were legs. They encompassed him, dozens of feet were almost pressing on his body.

In a panic he sat up and took a foot to the chest. He wheezed out and struggled to stand. He believed if he stood he wasn't at their mercy, he was wrong.

The second he stood upright, they moved closer.

He could feel the weight of bodies against him, inching his way, closing in the circle. The air was thick and a feeling of claustrophobia hit him.

Ross couldn't move. Not forward, nor back.

There was no way out.

This was it for him, the end.

A serving of Karma for what he had done.

Ross tried to be brave and figure a way out. He pushed and shoved, but they sprung back with more force. How many were surrounding him? He could barely see over their heads and even then, it was only a sea of people.

Where did they all come from?

Every moment that passed, he found it harder to breathe.

They were literally squeezing the life out of him. He was in a human coffin.

However, this was his life, not theirs to take.

If Ross was going to die, he wanted to control when he passed.

It took everything he had to reach his shoulder harness and pull out his pistol. His range of motion to his arms was short. Keeping the pistol close to his chest, he engaged the weapon while looking at those around him.

There was a young man in his twenties, an older woman wearing a waitress uniform, a police officer, none of them really looked at him. They stared blankly and through him.

It wouldn't be long, Ross knew, before they crushed him completely.

With a struggling grunt, he put the gun under his chin.

Painfully he closed his eyes and thought of his wife, his daughters. How badly he missed and loved them and how he would see them soon.

His finger trembled as he put pressure on the trigger.

Waitress woman moved against him, and Ross proved once again to himself that he was a coward.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't take his own life.

Quickly he moved the gun, put it under Waitress woman's chin and fired.

Her head flung back from the force of the shot, but she was held up by the mob and didn't fall.

She was a standing corpse, balancing on the weight of those around her.

Ross' adrenaline pumped, his heart beat out of control. He moved his body so he could aim and fire again.

Crying out with frustration and the will to live, Ross kept firing until the clip was empty. By then he had created a small opening and he shoved his way through. His arms swung, legs kicked and he forged ahead with the momentum of his body until he broke free. He tripped over someone's legs and fell to the ground hard.

Peering over his shoulder, Ross saw them turn, visually targeting him and moved his way.

He would not be trapped again. He stumbled to a stand, looking back only once.

The SUV was there, abandoned by the horde and Ross rushed that way. The driver's door was open and he jumped inside. The keys were in the ignition, in fact the engine was still running. He had never shut it off, only put it in gear.

He peered in the rearview mirror and only then was he able to see the magnitude of the amount of those who pursued him. It wasn't a dozens, it was hundreds. Ross placed the SUV in drive and peeled out.

Once he was free of the mob, he slowed down enough to look around town.

He didn't see any sign of Morgan. After circling around a few blocks, he headed out of town and back to the main road.

Ross was a plethora of emotions.

He was guilt ridden over what he had done to Morgan, ashamed of his actions and angry at his weakness. Two times in two days he had the gun under his chin ready to take his own life.

Truth was, even with his overwhelming loss, he wasn't ready to die. He didn't want to die.

The world had perished around him and he was spared. There had to be meaning to having life when do many others perished. He was a fool for not seeing it, and he needed to honor it going forward.

Life was a gift. He fought physically to keep his and vowed he would never take being alive for granted again.

There was a plan in motion before they even pulled into the town. A plan to go west. Alone or not, Ross was going to stick to that plan and head to Branson, Missouri.


The new woman, Morgan didn't say much. She sat in the back, sleeping most of the time. The main highway, while not free and clear was easy to maneuver for about eighty miles, then the weather took a turn. Almost instantly the sky darkened and the temperature dropped. The rain increased in intensity until it began to hail.

They had to stop and bring Father Basko into the truck. It was far more dangerous in the back than it was for his body to sit up.

That was when Morgan woke up.

She helped Judd with Father Basko, then Dawson sat in the back with her.

Before they pulled back on the road, Judd noticed Sister Helena had stepped from the bus. Before he got back in the truck, he went back to see what was going on.

"How much further?" she asked. "We are going to need sturdy shelter before nightfall. The weather is only going to get worse."

"All weather comes from the west, so we're gonna run into it. Maybe head south after Dayton and pull over?" Judd suggested.

She nodded, wiping the water from her face. "I'm good on gas until then, you?"

"Good. I'll lead the way, stay close, the roads will be slick."

"I will, thanks." Arms folded to her body, she hurried back to the bus and Judd went to the truck.

"Okay," he said as they got inside. "We're gonna keep going until right after Dayton and pull over." He grabbed the map from the floor and tossed it to Dawson. "Take a look and see where we can stop."

"Want me to look?" Morgan asked.

"Nah, he's good." Judd looked in the rearview mirror, then pulled out.

"Is everything alright with Sister Helena?" Father Basko asked.

"Yeah, she just wanted to know when we were stopping. The weather is getting bad."

Father Basko shifted in his seat. "I worry. She is not seeing clearly. She's following her faith and not her heart. Sometimes… you have to draw a line."

"It's hard to do in this situation," Judd said. "I mean, people are people and it's hard to see beyond the fact that they are alive."

"I disagree," Morgan said. "Out there, I don't know if you ran into them, but there are people out there that are not alive. They're shells and soulless, and I can see the distinction."

"Wait until you see what's on the bus," Dawson said. "She has a whole busload. At least twelve."

"Oh my God," Morgan looked out the window. "In the bus she's driving?"

Judd nodded.

Father Basko slumped in the seat toward the door, he reached over and touched Judd's hand. "Promise me you won't let them in the shelter with us. Don't let them in under any circumstances."

"I'll make that promise," Morgan interjected. "I know what the Starers are like."

"Starers?" Judd asked.

"That's what I call them."

"I call them Trancers," Dawson said.

"Trancers, Starers," Judd shook his head once. "Man, you people have really cool names for them. Why haven't I thought of one. How about you Father? You have a name for them?"

"Yes, I do." Father Basko raised his eyes to Judd. "The Abominated."


Columbus, Ohio was gone. Not geographically displaced, but rather it was destroyed. What caused its demise was anybody's guess. The skyline was dark, the buildings that had not been reduced to rubble were mere support beam skeletons of their former shapes. Debris of wood, concrete and glass scattered everywhere, and sections of town had been burnt black. There were no fires smoldering, the weather battled the flames and won. There had been a lot of rain, so much that it caused the river to overflow and spill across the area, covering the land and hiding the roadways.

The beltway around the city was nearly as dangerous. Trees and branches strewed across the expressway and several inches of water glazed the surface. So much so, they took a longer route.

It was in Columbus that Morgan began adamantly suggesting that they lose the boat.

"We're not losing the boat," Judd said.

"It's weighing us down, making travel difficult, plus eating a lot of gas."

"We're not losing the boat," Judd repeated.

"We need the boat," Dawson said.

Morgan laughed. "You need the boat? Why? Are you gonna go fishing?"

"Hey, now," Judd said. "Don't make fun. He says he needs it, so we take the boat."

Groggily, Father Basko joined the conversation. "We're going to need the boat."

A slight jolt went through Judd when he heard the father say that. "Why do you think we need the boat?" Judd asked Father Basko.

"When we were in Cleveland, just before the earthquake hit, we were communicating on the radio. There was a man with us, Steven, he was killed in the quake. Anyhow, there are two more storm fronts coming. They were described to us as looking like huge land hurricanes. Two of them joined together. They're gonna dump a lot of rain. We're driving right into them. We can go north, south, doesn't matter, they're that big."

"How is that possible?" Judd asked. "How is any of this linked? I mean, the weather, the people…"

Father Basko shook his head with a groan. "I don't know. The information we got was relayed, this person said that, and so forth. We didn't get all the details. We hoped we would, but everything shut down communication wise. Sister Helena and Steve got the last message. I was sleeping. She knows a bit more. They were kind of theorizing it was a manmade thing. Weather, atmosphere manipulation gone bad."

"Oh, balls," Judd scoffed. "That isn't possible."

"I agree," Father Basko said. "I'm still banking on the big guy."

"The God idea is not possible either," Morgan said. "The man made thing is, I guessed it from researching. I was looking into it before the power went out. Cloud seeding and geoengineering. All that was happening, had happened and something went wrong. I kept saying it."

"To who?" Judd asked. "The Staring people? You said you were alone."

"You know what I mean," she said.

"Do you think Branson will be flooded?" Dawson asked.

Morgan leaned forward. "Is that where you guys are going? Branson?"

Judd nodded.

Father Basko quickly looked at him. "Branson. We were headed there as well when you happened upon us. We heard it on the radio."

"Us... me, too," Morgan said. "Branson was mentioned on a radio call. Something about a pilgrimage to life."

"No kidding?" Judd said then whistled. "Wow, I didn't know that. We didn't have a radio. We had Ray in Australia, but he disappeared."

Father Basko looked at him curiously. "If you didn't have a radio, how did you choose Branson?"

Judd pointed back to Dawson. "His dream and a brochure."

"Yeah," Dawson said. "I keep dreaming of a guy named Bill. He's waving his arm saying for us to come to Branson."

Morgan laughed. "Oh my God, you were following the dream of a little boy?"

"He was right," Judd said.

"And who is Bill?" Morgan asked. "Some sort of Mother Abagail."

"Actually," Father Basko said. "Bill is the name of the radio man in Branson."

"No kidding." Judd gushed in shock, then looked back at Dawson. "Little dude, you are like a psychic. Next time you dream of Bill pay attention to the surroundings."

"Okay."

"Wow, that is cool. I got chills," Judd held his arm out to Father Basko. "Look goosebumps. Chills."

"Probably the weather," Morgan grumbled.

After giving a scolding look to her via the rearview mirror, Judd focused forward and continued to drive.

They had set a goal of two hundred miles for the day and surpassed that. They had momentum and would had made it father if the weather cooperated and they didn't have to go so far around Columbus. Taking it slow added over an hour to their time. The temperature dropped and the rain was a mixture of water and snow. The cold temperatures caused a deep slush on the road and they pulled over at a small road stop town just across the Indiana border.

Stopping was a must.

They pulled over into the lot of Patty's Bar and Grill. A two story log cabin looking building with a great looking covered patio and fifty yards from a Calico Gas and Go.

"This place looks good." Judd peered close to the windshield. "The chimney is big. Maybe they have a fireplace. Don't see any of those people around either. I'll go check it out. I mean we really have no choice but to stop, Last couple miles were pretty scary on the road."

"I lived in Maine, this is nothing." Father Basko said with a tired voice. "I'm ready to stop though, and the roads… there will be no street crews to clean this up."

"I know." Judd replied. "Maybe it will warm up. I'll start thinking of something. If it doesn't warm up, roads are gonna be tricky to maneuver."

"I have an idea," Morgan leaned forward. "Why don't we…"

"Chick," Judd cut her off. "If you suggest one more time that we lose the boat, next leg of the journey you ride in the bus with the creepy kids and Tire Man! Got it?"

She sat back chastised.

Judd grabbed the flashlight and opened the door. "I'll be right back."

The moment he put his foot to the ground he was grateful he was wearing boots. The slushy water hit above his ankles and he could feel how cold it was even through the leather.

He signed with his hand to Sister Helena to wait and he pointed to the building. Judd trudged through the flooded parking lot, up the four steps to the building and opened the door. It didn't smell like bodies which was a good sign. It was cold and dark, the only light came through the large windows and that wasn't much.

It was a big open place with picnic looking tables in the main area. A huge bar was on the far wall, and in the center of the room was a fireplace opened on both sides.

Judd would break the tables if need be for heat.

He heard a splashing sound, and thought maybe it was a leak. Then he realized it was improbable with a second floor above them.

A few steps into his walk he learned the source behind the splashing. It was concealed by the fireplace until Judd moved another few feet.

Against the wall was a huge fish tank, standing before it, back to Judd, was a very large man in a cook's outfit. His hands were in the tank.

"Shit," Judd said out loud.

The man turned around. He had the larger tropical fish dangling from his mouth.

"Sushi on the menu tonight?" Judd joked.

The man chomped and sucked the fish into his mouth, staring at Judd.

"Something tells me, you don't find that funny."

What was taking so long? Dawson wondered. It wasn't like Judd was in the building forever, but sure felt like it. He asked to get out of the car, but that woman kept telling him to stay put. Finally, Father Basko opened the door and Dawson heard it.

A cross between a scream and a sung note, a long drawn out 'Ah' rang out. It grew louder and louder until the front door of Patty's burst open. Some large man wearing white carried Judd face to face by the jacket, feet off the ground as he raged out the door and tossed Judd to the ground. He landed with a splash.

Dawson screamed. The woman in the truck, jumped over the seat and opened the driver's door. Dawson did the same.

Before he even cleared the truck the man in white picked up Judd and tossed him down to the ground again.

"No!" Dawson screamed, his feet sank in the water and he tried to run.

The man in white lowered down to grab Judd once more, but this time, he didn't get too far.

A single gunshot rang out, the Man in White's head jerked up and back and then he fell over.

Dawson didn't think about who shot the Man in White until he ran to Judd. When he wrapped his arms around him was when Dawson saw the new guy.

He stood a little bit away, holding a gun with both hands, like a professional. He lowered it and placed it in a harness he wore over his shoulder and walked to Judd.

His eye and cheek were swollen as if he had been in an accident or something. "You okay?" He offered his hand to Judd.

"Yeah. A little shaken. I'll be fine." Judd took his hand, while still embracing Dawson. He took a moment to peer down to Dawson, reassure him he was fine, then faced the new man again. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome. It wasn't the way I wanted to make my introduction."

"Doesn't matter. I don't know how you got here, but I sure as hell am glad you arrived," Judd said.

"Good. You may be, but I'm not quite sure how pleased…" the stranger pointed to Morgan, "She will be."


The extra person was going to come in handy. Even though he looked pretty injured, Judd knew Ross was a strong guy and he told them he was a police officer. He told Judd that he saw them somewhere after Columbus and followed them.

There was still a bit of daylight left and a lot to do before settling in for the night. Judd wanted to build a fire for warmth and light. They had to feed everyone, and even though they had food, Judd put Dawson in charge of checking out the kitchen of the restaurant, while he scouted the area.

He went out alone, it was better that way. He left in the middle of a one sided bickering session between Morgan and the new guy, Ross.

Morgan was doing most of the talking.

When he returned, Father Basko, even in his delicate state had gotten a small fire started in the fireplace using what had remained. Ross was moving tables, while Morgan tailed him like a scolding mother. Dawson darted into the dining area, set down a large can of something, then darted out and Sister Helena was wiping down a table while she sipped from a big old glass of what looked like whiskey, "Indulge much, Sister," Judd said then set the bags of items down on the bar.

"Always enjoyed a sip or two, today calls for more than that." She nodded her head at Morgan.

"Ah," Judd winked. "I get you. Hey Ross, I found batteries for your radio. There are a lot of supplies out there. It's still doing that rain and snow thing but no power, getting gas at the station is gonna be impossible."

"Excellent about the batteries," Ross said. "You know a lot of restaurants have small generators in case the power goes out. Did you look for one here? Maybe we can find one and shut down everything but the pumps. We could run an extension to the station next door so there would be enough power to get some gas."

"Worth a shot," Judd replied. "Good idea."

"Fucking asshole," Morgan quipped.

"Whoa. Whoa," Judd held out his hand to her. "Hey, now. Think you dropped enough F bombs around here to flatten a small city."

"Aren't you cute." Morgan shook her head. "With your witty hick comments."

"What is up your fanny, lady?" Judd asked. "We're all in this together. Okay? Whatever differences you two have you need to put aside."

"Fuck you."

Nervously, Sister Helena approached Morgan. "I don't know why you're so angry, but can you be angry without the swearing, there are children around."

"Really?" Morgan scoffed. "You think swearing is going to affect Dawson? I'm pretty sure he's heard worse on a video game and those… things in the bus can't hear me. Even if they could, they aren't children."

"They're still children," Sister Helena snapped. "That reminds me, Judd, they've been out there long enough. We can't leave them in the cold."

Morgan shook her head in disbelief.

"Maybe it's for the better," Farther Basko suggested. "I mean for safeties sake."

"They are still children," Sister Helena argued.

"What about bringing them in," Ross said. "Put them in one room. Watch them like a hawk."

"How do you think my injuries happened?" Father Basko asked Ross. "I had them in the back room of a building. They did this to me while I slept."

"Jesus," Ross gasped out in shock. "Sorry Sister. Father."

"See." Morgan pointed. "Come on Judd. You have this protective thing about Dawson, you really want to take a chance with those kids around him?"

"I know Dawson doesn't," Judd replied. "They are technically still children. I can't bring myself to do anything to harm them."

"Me either," Ross said.

Morgan huffed. "No shock there. I'm surprised you killed the one today."

"You can say I had a rude awakening," Ross said.

"Look." Morgan peered around to everyone. "I wouldn't bring them in here and I certainly wouldn't let Ross be in charge. For all I know, he'd let them loose on us, steal everything and take off."

"Why would you say that?" Judd asked.

"Because he left me to die. Those things had me and he left me to die. I didn't. My only regret is when he came back for me, they didn't get him."

"Okay. Okay." Judd held up his hand. "Obviously there are issues here. We need to deal with priority things first. Get it warm in here, get gas in our vehicles and get to Branson. From my calculations we are one gas tank away from getting there."

"If you cut lose the boat," Morgan said. "And we don't know if Branson is still viable."

"It's our best hope of something to shoot for," Judd said. "You got a better idea?"

"South," Morgan said. "Go south. This weather is bad. We all know it's going to get worse. South is our best option."

"Branson is south. Not as south as you are talking," Judd said. "If Branson doesn't work out, then I see no reason why we can't go south."

Sister Helena interjected. "We need Branson to get south. I don't know why. It's what Bill said. He's the only gateway. His pilgrimage. That's why he needs to leave in a couple of days. The reason for the hurried evacuation. The two storm systems that are coming are not only causing a mini ice age but dumping enough water to break dams and flood low lying areas so deep…" she looked at Dawson. "We may need a boat and that's only before it freezes. They've already hit out west, it's only a matter of time and they'll be where we are."

Morgan lowered her head.

Ross pointed at Morgan. "That shut her up. She knows it to be true. She was all over the weather maps."

"How do you know this, Sister?" Morgan asked.

"Bill. I spoke to Bill before the quake," Sister Helena answered. "He received the message and information and was sharing it with everyone who replied."

"Message, like prophetic?" Morgan questioned.

"No." Sister Helena shook her head. "From a weather observation station in Leadville, Colorado. There's life there. One of the areas not hit at all by whatever caused people to drop dead."

Judd's eyes widened and he spun to Sister Helena. "Don't you think you could have shared this info?"

"I thought you knew," she said. "Why else would you be headed west?"

"We didn't get that information either," Ross said. "We couldn't communicate back."

"Life out there is all the more reason not to bring the bus of kids," Morgan said.

"No," Sister Helena shook her head. "They may be able to help the children. Maybe they have a way to bring them back."

"They are brain damaged homicidal time bombs waiting to explode," Morgan said. "They aren't coming back."

Judd whistled. "That's deep. You wanna just leave them behind. Let them freeze and starve?"

"Yes," Father Basko said. "Hating to agree, we can't bring them. We look around this town for another means of transportation and leave them behind. Sister, they're dangerous. We have a healthy child, right here. We can't chance his life. We leave them."

"End it now," Morgan said. "Run a hose from the exhaust into the window of the bus, start the engine, seal the gap and door with duct tape and let them go."

"Holy crap," Judd explained. "Did you just whip that off the top of your head or have you been mentally plotting ways to knock off a bus of kids?"

"You can't kill them," Dawson spoke up emotionally. "Yeah, I think they're bad, but you can't kill them. Judd, tell me you aren't gonna do that?"

"Buddy…" Judd turned to him. "Do I seem the type?"

Dawson shook his head.

Ross stood and spoke abruptly. "Okay! I'm gonna look for a generator. Dawson, you want to help me?"

Dawson nodded.

Ross placed his hand on Dawson's back and headed toward the kitchen. "Wait until we're out of earshot before you continue the slaughter of the innocent conversation."

Once they were gone from the room, Judd faced Morgan. "I know this is a worry for you and Father. However, we don't have to make this decision right now. Do we? We have other thigs to do."

Father Basko nodded. "We can discuss it later or tomorrow. But tonight, they can't be in the same room with us."

"I'll scout the upstairs. We'll lock them in a room. No one needs to be near them."

Sister Helena laid her hand on Judd's arm. "I appreciate your kindness, Judd. I cannot look at them and see evil. I see children who need help. I also can't, with a good conscience, leave them behind. If we do, I'll stay with them."

Morgan moved closer. "You would give your life for them? You'd stay behind and die?"

"No one says I would die," Sister Helena replied. "I'll put my fate in God's hands."

"I supposed you have put your fate in God's hands thus far?" Morgan asked.

"I have."

"How's that working out for you?" Morgan snapped. "World's falling apart, freezing over, flooding, people dropped dead, everything is a wasteland. Those things when they turn on you are strong. Big bodies, small bodies, doesn't matter, they are strong. Look what they did to Father Basko. What would they do to Dawson? You for that matter. You're small. Don't take the chance. They'll turn on you. You'll put your life on the line and they will turn on you."

"If it's God's will."

Morgan chuckled. "God's will. Then you're a fucking fool and deserve the fate you get."

Before Judd could comment in shock, Sister Helena was fast. She didn't just slap Morgan, she backhanded her across the face.

Judd immediately intercepted anything that could further happen between the two women.

There was a tense moment of silence in the room, then Morgan turned and walked away. Sister Helena backed up and lifted her drink.

Once Judd knew it was safe he went back to getting things ready for the night, and the next day. Everything was heavy on his mind, the journey, the weather and those children on the bus.

As crass as she was, as hard as Morgan came across, a part of Judd knew she was right. Those kids on the bus were a time bomb and he really hoped Dawson wasn't anywhere near them when the human time bomb went off.


Judd watched Morgan sitting off alone, peeling potatoes with more conviction than he had ever seen. Legs slightly parted, elbows on her knees she worked that peeler with a vengeance, she was fast, too.

Nothing had been said to her all evening, she grabbed her dinner and walked off by herself. Things had quieted down. Both Father Basko and Dawson were asleep in the camp they made around the fireplace. Sister Helena was dozing on and off. Judd believed she was three sheets to the wind. She hit the bottle pretty hard, especially since it had been difficult to corral the twelve kids and Tire Man from the bus to an upstairs room. Twelve kids no younger than Dawson, but no older than about eleven. They wouldn't budge from the bus at first, but when Judd pulled out the prepackaged peanut butter and jelly sandwich, they all followed. That one sandwich was used to lure them up to the steps and into the room.

It was funny and scary the way they all dove for it when he threw it inside. He and Ross put them in a small room, the only one they could lock and Judd could hear the footsteps on the ceiling. They were contained, that was good.

Ross made a joke that it sounded like a, "Party in the upstairs apartment."

It was a great analogy. Judd knew before long, the "party sounds" would be buried beneath the storm that was brewing. The thunder that roared in the distance during dinner, increasingly grew louder and stronger.

Judd was hyper. He had accomplished a lot with Ross, getting gas and supplies for the next day. He wanted to play his guitar, it always calmed him, but he didn't want to wake Father Basko. He knew it wouldn't wake Dawson, he was a heavy sleeper. After watching Morgan work those potatoes, he finally walked over to her. It was time to break the ice, to maybe try to smooth things out.

Judd cleared his throat. "That's some impressive peeling. You working out frustration."

"No." She looked up. "I'm peeling potatoes."

"What for?"

"I don't plan on sleeping tonight. Not with Village of the Damned above our heads. So I'm gonna put these in the pot on the fire and we'll have them for breakfast before we hit the road. The hot dogs were good. We just need substance."

With a closed mouth, Judd nodded and sat down.

Morgan paused in her peeling and looked at him intensely.

"What? I can't join you?"

She huffed and shook her head. "Suit yourself."

"You know… When I was…"

"Stop," she said. "You are gonna try to tell me some stupid story."

"You don't want to hear it?"

"No." She shook her head and peeled. "Spare me."

"So says the girl who got beat up by a nun."

She glared at him.

"Don't let it get you down. You're in good company. Many of Catholic school kids back in the day had a run in or two with a wayward ruler and a wicked sister."

"You aren't funny."

"Yeah, I am." Judd nudged her.

"Really? You just touched me."

"Oh, stop. What is up with you? Why are you so nasty?"

"You really want to know?" she asked.

"I do."

"I'm angry. I am really angry and I can't shake it."

"About the kids?"

"No, that worries me. It really does. I saw how they can be. They attacked once, they'll attack again. That's not why I'm angry. I'm not a bad person, I'm not. I was always the unselfish one. A lot of good that did me. I'm mad because I didn't resolve my life. The world dropped dead when I was screaming at the only man I ever loved. Despite the fact…" she tossed a potato and grabbed another. "That he cheated on me and left me, I still loved him. I'm pissed it never got resolved. I'm mad because the last words I said to him I'm pretty sure weren't very nice."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure of that, too."

She shook her head. "Ross tells me to forgive him. I want to forgive him, but I am so mad because he died and I didn't." She paused. "It sounds stupid but I can't shake it, and it comes out in everything I do and say. Eventually I'll stop, if you know… someone else doesn't leave me to die."

"Well, I'm sure he had his reasons."

Morgan chuckled in disbelief. "Did you really just say that?"

"I did. And I can promise I won't leave you to die."

"I believe that."

"If it makes you feel better you're not alone with those feelings. When this thing happened, I was at a construction site, standing on the ninth floor of an unfinished building with my best friend. He was joking about falling over, I was too and then he did."

"I'm sorry."

"Me, too."

"Is that what you did?" she asked. "Construction?"

"Actually, no, I was a country music star."

Morgan laughed. "I never heard of Judd Heston, but hey, thanks for the laugh."

"On that note, you're no longer as nasty, I've accomplished something this evening. I'll let you get back to your potatoes."

"Thanks."

Judd stood.

"And Judd, really, thanks."

Judd tipped his head and made his way over to the only other person awake. Ross. Ross was on the floor with a toolbox next to him. He was unscrewing legs from chairs and tables for the fire. Judd sat down a few feet from Dawson and joined Ross.

"So," Judd asked. "Did you really leave her to die?"

Ross stared at him for a moment. "Yeah, I did. That's not me. She was bitching at me when they attacked and I just bolted."

Judd looked over his shoulder at Morgan. "Yeah, I can see where that can happen."

Ross laughed. "I changed my mind. She let me have it." He pointed to his face. "I deserved it."

"It works for you."

"Can I ask you something? This is gonna sound off. Maybe it's just a coincidence that you have that guitar and you look like him, but are you Judd Bryant?"

Judd smiled. "I am."

"Oh, man, me and my kids loved 'Carrot Cake and Karen'. We'd dance to it all the time. Man… I am a huge fan."

"Thank you. That means a lot."

"So is Heston your real name?" Ross asked. "I know Dawson called you Mr. Heston one or two times."

"Now that…" Judd waved his finger. "Is a long story for another time."

Both of them looked up when a loud 'crack' of lightening shook the ground and lit up the room.

"Holy shit!" Judd exclaimed.

Within seconds, the rain blasted at the window and the wind was so strong, the flame on the fire flickered.

"Do you hear that?" Morgan asked, standing.

It's the storm." Judd said.

"No." she shook her head.

THUMP.

"That."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Judd replied. "Probably a tree or something hitting against us."

Thump.

Ross pointed. "It woke the boy."

Dawson rubbed his eyes and walked over to Judd.

"What's the matter, buddy?" Judd asked. "You can't sleep? The storm wake you?"

"Bill did," Dawson said groggy.

"What do you mean? A dream?"

Thump.

"Judd," Morgan called him. "Something is up."

Again, a loud crack and clap shook the building.

"It's the storm." Judd looked down to Dawson. "So you dreamt of Bill?"

"Yes." Dawson nodded.

Thump. Thump.

Ross slowly stood and peered to the ceiling. "She's right. It's not the storm."

"I'm scared," Dawson held on to Judd.

"It's okay." Judd embraced. "It was just a dream. What did Bill say?"

The thumping grew louder and faster. Judd stood up, releasing his hold on Dawson.

"He said… run."

Judd's eyes widened.

Ross pointed. "The staircase."

"Stay here," Judd ordered and walked to the corner of the restaurant with Ross and Morgan.

"Judd, no!" Dawson cried.

"Stay over there." Judd held out his hand.

Dawson listened. He stayed by the fire while Judd, Ross and Morgan stared at the door.

"It's quiet," Ross said. "I thought they were in the stairwell."

"Me, too," Judd said.

Morgan shook her head. "They are. You can't hear them with the storm."

Judd whispered and pointed to the door. "Did we lock this?"

Ross shook his head. "I don't think we did."

"Shit," Judd said. "It locks from the other side." He slowly reached for the knob.

Morgan stopped him. 'What are you doing?"

"If they aren't in the stairwell, I'm locking it." Again, his hand reached and again he was stopped.

Ross moved him aside. "Let me. Okay?" He pulled his weapon. "Stay back."

Judd and Morgan stepped back.

Ross extended his hand.

"This is silly," Judd said. "There's nothing…"

With a thunderous 'crash' the door flew entirely from the hinges, slamming into Ross and sending his gun sliding across the linoleum as he hit the floor.

Tire Man charged out and behind him raced the twelve kids.

Judd's first thought was Dawson, and as he turned, Tire Man face palmed him so hard it sent him back crashing into a table.

Morgan ran.

She made it only a few feet, when one of the Bus kids dove on her back. She tried to shuck the child, but his arm gripped around her neck, strangling her. Her only defense was the potato peeler and she jammed it in the child's arm. He released her and she flew over by Dawson.

She arrived in time to intercept another bus kid who came for him. Lifting Dawson into her arms, she pushed the child away with her foot and ran toward the door.

"Judd!" Dawson screamed. "Judd."

Get Dawson to safety. Get him out. Was all she could think of. The truck was the best option. She opened the front door and quickly realized that wasn't the answer. A gust of wind acted like a wall she was unable to push through, it sent her back a foot just as a huge piece of debris flew at the door and bounced off. Then in a split second, the wind pulled back, sucking her through. One arm holding Dawson, reaching for the door, Morgan struggled with her footing. Finally her fingers touched the door. She turned her body to close it when a bus kid leapt at her.

She was fast, darting out of the way, the bus kid sailed through the archway and she slammed the door.

She was far from being safe inside the restaurant. It was mayhem and Morgan was so focused on getting Dawson to safety, she tried not to see all that was going on. Dawson was heavy, and it took a lot to hold on to him, especially when he fought and screamed for Judd.

In her mad dash across the dining room floor of the restaurant, she spotted Sister Helena. One bus kid was on her back, while another flailed her fists relentlessly at her.

In her run by Sister Helena, Morgan grabbed hold of the hair of the fist-throwing little brat, yanked her back to the floor and grabbed Sister Helena's hand, pulling her with her.

In the kitchen, she raced to the walk in freezer, opened it and put Dawson in side. "Stay here. You'll be safe."

She pushed the door closed and turned to help Sister Helena.

The nun was on the floor with the boy on her back. Morgan grabbed the first thing she could, a small pot, and she hit the child with it. When he paused, she used her foot to kick him from Sister Helena, grabbed her hand, dragged her to her feet and pushed her into the freezer.

"Stay with Dawson!" Morgan yelled. "The door opens from inside. Do not open until you hear silence."

She didn't stay long, the last vision of them was Dawson running to the door and Sister Helena reaching for him. She slammed the door shut.

They were safe.

Of that she was sure.

No sooner did she turn around, then bus kid ran at her. Morgan charged back, grabbing him in her momentum and carrying him through the swinging kitchen door.

Father Basko.

Ross didn't understand, maybe it was an advantage, but when he stood from being knocked down, the rabid children never attacked him. They were too busy pursuing Sister Helena and even more so, Father Basko. Seven of them pounced the priest. While Judd engaged in a cat and mouse game with Tire Man. Only Judd was the mouse.

Ross didn't know where to go first, who to help.

He picked his battle and aimed for Father Basko.

The attacking bus kids were like pit bulls. They pounced, grabbed, pulled and kicked, and each one he tossed off, merely jumped back and returned.

He was so focused on getting the kids off Father Basko, he didn't realize it was too late.

His feet slipped and he slid in a pool of blood that came from the priest. Ross didn't want to look, he didn't want to see what they had done. In the midst of his battle, he saw it. The fire extinguisher hanging by the stairwell. He ran to it, grabbed it and raced back over to those kids attacking Father Basko.

He blasted it and the white substance stunned them. They paused in their attack, rubbed their faces and moved in confused circles.

After dropping the extinguisher, Ross grabbed two of them. He was strong enough to carry them both and he took them to the stairwell, tossed them hard inside, and ran back for two more before the ones in the stairwell could catch their bearings.

He put them in and reached down for the door. Just as he grabbed it, he saw Morgan.

"Here. In here." Ross yelled.

She raced over with the kid, and using the weight of her body, along with her arms, she flung the boy inside with the others. Ross slammed the door against the jam. It didn't take long for the door to move from the weight of the kids trying to get out.

"Think you can hold this?" Ross asked.

"I will," Morgan replied. She pressed her back against the door and locked her legs.

Ross stepped away. He looked for Judd. He was behind the bar, sailing bottles at Tire Man. It distracted Ross enough that he didn't see the little girl coming, she jumped up at him, fingers digging into his neck.

Holding her to him, bracing her by the scruff of her neck, Ross raged for the front door of the bar, grabbing another child in his run.

The door opened easily with the force of the wind and Ross hoisted one child out, then grabbed the girl, yanking her from him tossing her out as well.

He shut and locked the door.

It was less chaotic and Ross lost count of how many kids from the bus there were.

It was under control, at least with the kids. There were three standing calmly in the middle of the restaurant, staring out. One of them had a potato peeler in his arm.

After catching his breath, Ross grabbed a chair, carried it over to the bar. "Enough of this shit." He lifted it high and smashed Tire Man over the head.

He toppled to the ground. Ross hit him again just to be sure he was down.

Judd stood up.

"You okay?" Ross asked.

"I couldn't get by him," Judd said. "He was kicking my ass."

"Join the club."

"Dawson?" Judd asked in a panic.

"He's fine," Morgan answered. "He's in the freezer with Sister Helena. Can you guys…" her body bounced. "Help?"

Ross walked over to the fireplace and grabbed the tool box. He lifted a couple chair legs and carried them to the stairwell. "Sorry." He said to Morgan. "Just hold it another minute." He grabbed a hammer and nails, placed the nails in his mouth, then lifted a leg to the arch and began securing the door.

"How many are in there?" Judd asked.

"Five," Ross answered as he hammered. "I tossed two out."

"Three," Morgan corrected. "I threw one out as well." She stepped away from the door, turned and held it with her hands for Ross.

"One is missing" Judd said.

"We'll find it." Morgan secured the next leg to the door. He only needed a couple nails, enough for a temporary fix.

"Oh my God, Father Basko," Judd said.

"I know." Ross paused in his hammering, looking over his shoulder. Judd was standing by Father Basko's body, or rather what remained of it. He paused then finished the final nail. "We'll take care of…" he turned around and caught his breath. "take care of…" His eyes widened.

"What?" Morgan asked, then turned around.

Tire Man was standing, dead eye stare locked on Judd and he held Ross' gun haphazardly in his hand.

"Judd!" Morgan screamed, "Watch out."

Judd spun around.

Ross saw Judd dart out of the way, and Ross ran, hammer in hand, toward Tire Man.

The gun went off, a split second before Ross, two hands on the handle of the hammer, like a baseball player, swung upwards with everything he had, landing the hammer claw end first in the base of Tire Man's skull. Tire Man teetered and the gun dropped from his hand. Quickly, Ross swept up the gun, shifted his body and fired once at Tire Man, hitting him in the side of the neck and taking him down once and for all.

Ross' heart raced out of control. He bent over, hands to his legs to catch his breath. It was close. Especially when he saw Tire Man with the gun. He was confident, especially with the way Tire Man held the gun, that everything was okay.

He knew he was wrong when he heard the sound of Morgan's voice like he never heard it before.

Soft, sad and whimpering, "Ross."

He held his eyes closed tight for a moment and slowly lifted his head and looked.

Morgan knelt on the floor. Blood flowed over her fingers as she tried with diligence to stop the bleeding with her bare hands.

Judd had been shot.


"Get me this, get me that, find me this, find me that." Ross was a plethora of orders and Morgan followed them as fast and best as she could.

Each item, he asked for, she found. Either he had it, or Sister Helena did in her bag.

He was on the floor working diligently on Judd. There wasn't time to worry about the remaining kids, they could only hope they remained calm while he tried to stabilize Judd.

"Just make sure you keep the Sister and Dawson away. At least until I'm done," Ross said. "We don't need either of them seeing this."

"Should I tell them something?"

Ross looked at her, his eyes cased her bloody shirt. "Not until you change."

Morgan understood.

"Hey," Judd said groggily. "What's all the fuss about?"

"He's awake," Ross said. "Hand me the whiskey."

"It's a good sign, right?" Morgan asked.

Ross didn't reply to her, he took the bottle and lifted Judd's head. "I need you to take a big drink. I mean huge, okay."

"Why?"

"You've been shot, Pal."

It was long and dragged out as Judd said the word in surprise. "What? No way."

"Yeah, way."

"It can't be bad."

Ross tilted his head. "It's bad."

"But you're a cop and if you're fixing me then I'm good. It can't be that bad."

"You don't have a choice," Ross said. "Plus, you're in luck. I was a medic in the reserves."

"Sweet. So how bad is bad?"

"Bad. You lost a shit load of blood."

"Eh, I'll get it back."

Ross exhaled in frustration. "I need you to be quiet and still. Morgan, keep the light close."

"Ah, you two are talking again," Judd said.

"Judd, please. Morgan, the vodka."

"I just had whiskey."

"It's not for drinking." Ross took the uncapped bottle from Morgan. "This is going to hurt." He poured it over the wound left of his naval.

"Ow."

Ross smiled. "That was simple. I think I see it. You need to hold still, I think I can get it. Hold the light closer Morgan."

Judd grunted an "Uh!" loudly.

Ross looked at him. "I didn't touch you."

"You're gonna reach in me with your fingers?" Judd asked, "That's how President Harrison died."

"What?"

"They reached in with their fingers and he got an infection and died."

"Well, there was a bag with rubber gloves and antibiotics," Ross said.

"Hey, that was me. I got them." Judd replied.

"Good for you and by the way, it was Garfield, not Harrison."

"You sure?"

"Positive. Now hold still," Ross instructed and reached into the wound.

The screams carried to them, even through the insulated metal door of the freezer. A long cry out, then another, and then silence.

Dawson scurried to the door and Sister Helena held him back.

"That was Judd," Dawson cried out. "I know it was. He's hurt. Judd doesn't scream."

"You can't leave here."

"Let me go help Judd."

"Dawson!" Sister Helena scolded. "No. More than anything Judd wants you safe. Honor him, stay put."

Dawson nodded sadly, then placed his arms around Sister Helena's waist. When he did he saw the blood and stepped back. "You're hurt." He looked at her arms, deep gashes ran up and down them.

"I'll be fine." She brought him back into the fold of her embrace. "So will Judd."

Judd had passed out. He cried out in pain a few times and then his head dropped to the side and he was out. Even though Ross was happy that he was talking, he needed him still and silent.

He was able to pull the shell from his gut but Ross hadn't a clue how much damage was done. He did his best to seal the wound using everything from a needle and thread to duct tape. After he had finished, they carried him to a sleeping bag near the fire.

"What do you think?" Morgan asked.

Ross shook his head. 'Your guess is as good as mine. He lost a lot of blood."

"He said we're close to Branson. Can we go?"

"You mean like now?" Ross asked.

Morgan nodded. "Yeah, what if we go right now? We'll be there by morning."

"You hear that out there?" Ross shook his head. "I don't know."

"We have to try. They may have a doctor there."

"I know. Let's hit the radio again. He has extra batteries. We can keep trying. Once the storm breaks, we'll head out even if it's not light."

"It's not going to break, Ross. You know that."

Ross closed his eyes.

"What about them?" Morgan nodded her head at the three children. "We can't trust them around him."

"Once we get Dawson and Sister Helena from the freezer, we'll put them in there." Ross then groaned. "Oh man, Dawson. He is not going to handle this well. We're going to…" Slowly, Ross lifted his eyes upward. "Oh. No." He stood.

"What's wrong?" Morgan asked.

Ross heard it, didn't she?

"What's wrong?" Morgan asked.

"Do you hear that?"

"I don't hear anything."

"Exactly." Ross raced to the door.

"It's over, we can go. It stopped."

Ross knew better, he opened the door. The air was still and not a single rain drop fell.

"Let's get everybody," Morgan joined him. "We'll carry him out."

"No." Focused Ross stepped out and on to the porch.

"Where are the kids we threw out?"

Ross didn't answer that question. The night was suddenly quiet. It was filled with an eerie silence and a greenish hue as if the moon was shining through a color gel.

He stepped down the stairs and to the lot, the moment he did he felt the first 'pat' to this head, then suddenly it fell around him. He held out his hand to catch the hail that was the size of peanuts. He shifted his eyes around when the pressure filled his ears, then heard the roar. Almost like a freight train in the distance.

He spun back to Morgan. "Get inside."

"What's going on."

Where was it? He looked around. Where? The sky was dark until it lit up with six or seven bolts of lightning that speared through the sky continuously, brightening it.

That was when he saw the first funnel in the distance straight ahead of him, it was huge, as he turned to run back in the house, he saw the second one, it filled the entire sky.

"Oh my God," Morgan gasped out in shock. "The basement?"

"There is no basement." Ross moved toward Morgan to get her inside.

"What are we going to do?" Morgan ran inside, then stopped. "The Freezer."

"Grab Judd."

Quickly, each of them grabbed an end of the sleeping bag, using it like a stretcher to carry Judd.

"How long?" Morgan asked.

"I don't know. A minute."

"That one is headed straight toward us."

"They don't move in a straight line. It may veer off, we're still getting caught in the wind."

When they arrived in the kitchen, the one bus kid lay on the floor by the freezer door. His forehead was bloody and there were bloody handprints on the freezer. It was obvious he ran over and over to into the door until he knocked himself unconscious.

"Sister!" Ross yelled. "Open the door."

"She can't hear us."

Ross tried again. "Open the door!"

The freezer door opened and Sister Helena gasped. "Oh my Sweet Lord."

"Judd!" Dawson screamed.

Hurriedly they carried him inside and set him down. Ross ran back to the door.

"Where are you going?" Morgan asked.

"We can't lose everything. Stay here." Ross closed the door and ran as fast as he could back to the dining room.

The windows rattled and the noise of the impending tornados was deafening. He grabbed two backpacks in his run, tossing them over his shoulder, then the case with the radio.

His heart pounded and he couldn't think straight. Where were the batteries? The room had been thrown into disarray from the chaotic run in. Finally he saw the bag by the fireplace, he lifted that and a duffle bag that was on the floor.

The funnel was close, he could feel the ground vibrating. He headed back to the kitchen, arms full but stopped, there was one more thing. Even though he didn't have time to spare, Ross ran back to the dining area and grabbed it… Judd's guitar.

He balanced everything in his arms as he rushed back to the kitchen. His call for them to open the door was buried in the wind noise. He dropped the bags and opened the freezer. He shoved the items in with his foot then ran in just as a loud crack and boom rang out.

He dropped the items, slammed the door, and held it closed while catching his breath.

There was a certain amount of sound proofing in the freezer, but he could still hear things clamoring and banging outside.

Inside though was a solo sobbing sound.

Dawson.

He didn't want to let go of the door, so Ross looked over his shoulder.

Dawson was seated on his knees. He held on to Judd's hand and lifted his tear filled eyes to Ross. "Please tell me he's going to be okay. Please. Don't let him die. Please."

Ross didn't know what to say. More than anything he wanted to tell the child it was going to be alright, but he couldn't. All Ross could do was turn away, face the silver of the door and hold on as best as he could.


"Branson, anyone, anyone out there? Do you read?" Morgan called out. "Anyone? Over." She switched the channel.

Ross reached over and stopped her. "Give it a few minutes before switching."

Morgan nodded.

Sister Helena called from the backseat. "Can we go any faster?"

"No, Sister," Ross answered. "Water on the road is deep. I don't want to stall." He turned the defrosters on to clear the windshield, but it wasn't helping. A steady thin rain mixed with snow fell and Ross prayed the water didn't freeze. They were headed south, it had to get warmer.

Go faster, Ross thought. They were so lucky they were even on the road at all.

He thought back to the moment they opened the freezer door. Things had quieted down and they had been in there safely for over an hour.

Judd regained consciousness pretty fast and was a great patient. He took the pain pills and the antibiotics and even joked about how bad his luck was.

His demeanor was a good sign. It didn't help the horrified feeling Ross had before he looked beyond the confines of the walk in freezer.

He had no idea what waited beyond the door. It was time to find out.

A simple creak of the door brought in a blast of cooler air and a fine mist of water. He could hear the dripping and expected the worst.

Tornados were peculiar things. Ross remembered the time as a kid when he lived in Kentucky, His grandmother's house was spared during a tornado and the next door neighbor's home was flattened.

It was dark when he stepped inside the kitchen, but he could see enough with the help of a flashlight that things had been toppled. He had the others stay behind while he checked it out. He looked up, part of the ceiling was missing. It was a two story building, he was pretty sure the top floor was gone.

A light rain carried in as he walked into the main dining area. His primary goal was to go outside, canvas a way to get out of town, if there was indeed a way. They needed to get to Branson, it was their only hope for help.

The restaurant for the most part was intact. Windows were busted and the door was off the hinges. The area above the bar had collapsed and most of the upper floor was in the dining area.

The place where Father Basko had died was buried.

Ross made his way outside. It was black, he could barely see anything outside his flashlight beam. He moved it left to right. The school bus was on its side and against the buildings across the road. The convenience store was flattened, however before him was nothing short of a miracle.

Even though it was covered with debris, Judd's truck, complete with the boat, was essentially unharmed and still parked right where they had left it.

Ross had seen instances like it before, though rare, it wasn't impossible. He was forever grateful. He would see better once the sun emerged, but until then, Ross worked on clearing the debris from the truck.

It started, had gas, and just before five in the morning, they carried Judd to the truck and were on the road. Slowly, but moving.

Daylight brought the clarity that the entire area had been devastated.

Chunks of woods, papers and even bodies floated in the shallow flooding that covered the area, causing Ross to drive with caution.

Morgan sat up front attacking the radio.

Judd lay on the back seat, his head on Sister Helena's lap, while Dawson sat on the floor behind Morgan's seat, his hand continuously on Judd.

Judd waned between being awake and asleep, he even tried to talk and joke. Ross knew he wasn't well. His color was horrible, a pasty white, but Ross wasn't giving up hope. Judd was a strong man, fighting with everything he had both physically and emotionally.

Ross was determined to get Judd the help he needed. It was out there, and Ross pressed forward at a safe speed. That was all he could do.

A 'thud' against the bottom of the truck stirred Judd from his sleep. When he opened his eyes it was daylight, the last time he woke up it was still dark.

"What the heck are you hitting?" he asked.

"Lots of things in the road," Ross answered. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore." That wasn't completely the truth, his entire body felt aflame with pain and he had the bed spins when he closed his eyes. "I keep dreaming of Morgan calling out 'anyone'."

Morgan looked over her shoulder. "I'm going to get someone on this damn thing."

"Well how dee damn, you are in a good mood and no fighting. Guess my accident isn't a bad thing after all."

"Rest," Sister Helena swiped her hand across his brow. "Please."

"Nah, I'm good Sister. But you can keep touching my forehead. It reminds me of my mom." Judd could feel Dawson, but he couldn't see him. He tried, but he was at his feet and Judd couldn't lift his head enough to see him. "Hey little buddy, how you doing?"

"Sad," Dawson said. "I'm scared, Judd. Scared for you. You look like a zombie."

"Dawson," Sister Helena scolded calmly.

"No, kidding? Really?" Judd asked. "How cool. I was never very vain. I feel good."

"You look bad," Dawson said, "You gotta get better Judd. You found me, you have to stay with me."

"Buddy, I am going to give it my all." Judd cringed in pain. It hurt to talk, to breathe. "I could use one of those pain pills right about now, and that bottle I watched you pick up from the rubble."

"Judd," Sister Helena said softly. "You shouldn't mix pills and alcohol."

"He can have them," Ross said. "I think it will be fine."

Morgan handed back the bottle and pills as Sister Helena lifted his head so he could take them. Judd coughed when the pill lodged for a second in his throat. He washed it down with more booze.

"You know what's funny?" Judd asked. "If I was shot before all this happened, man my music would outlive me."

"Not that you're going anywhere," Ross said. "Your music is gonna outlive you anyhow."

"He saved your guitar." Dawson said.

"No kidding?" Judd said, "That's really swell. Hopefully I'll play it again. I want Dawson to know my music."

"I know your music." Ross said. "Every word." He then began to sing, "Walking in the rain, feeling no more pain, Jack and Jim my best friend again. I can stumble, I can fall, I can take it all, but the addictions in my blood …keeps me heart a flarin'…"

At that instant, everyone but Judd sang, "Craven Carrot Cake and Karen."

Judd laughed and coughed. "You all know it."

Morgan looked to the back seat with a bright smile. "That was you? Oh my God, I love that song. You're famous."

"Was."

"Is," Dawson corrected, "Everyone knows who Mr. Heston is."

Before anything else was said, a hiss of static captured everyone's attention.

"This is Branson, responding to unknown caller. Anyone there?"

As if they won some sort of championship, everyone in the truck cheered.

Morgan grabbed the radio. "We're here. We hear you." She looked behind her to Judd. "We need help."


They were filled with hope. Even though the slow moving trip was taking longer than it should have, they were in contact with Branson.

"Radio when you're within fifty miles. You may run into trouble. We'll look for you," Bill from Branson told them.

Ross didn't know what that meant, maybe they had trucks out on the roads. As instructed they checked in every fifty miles. Sometimes with a longer reply, most with a "Roger that."

They put the last of the gas in the tank, with a little over a hundred miles to go. Only in a few places did the water ever recede.

Two hundred miles before Branson, Judd started to cough. He talked less, and slept more. Sister Helena said he was burning up.

Fifty miles before Branson, they placed their final radio call and they didn't think too much of the lack of response, until only three miles later, the journey ended.

The road just ended and nothing but a huge lake of water blocked their way. The water washed back and forth in a wave like manner against the concrete, almost as if it was always there, a natural lake.

Tips of trees poked through the dark water, but there was nothing more as far as the eye could see.

Ross stepped from the truck. He knew the temperature had dropped, but he didn't realize how cold it was.

Too cold to rain, that was for sure, even though the sky was clouded over. Ross spread the map out on the hood of the truck. "Branson is by that mountain range." He exhaled in frustration. "What now?"

"You know, from the moment Judd picked me up, I bitched about cutting the boat loose." She tilted her head in a nod to the boat. "I've never been so happy to be wrong."

"Do you know anything about boats?"

"Nope. Do you?"

"Not enough. Should we stay here?"

"No, we have to try. We'll layer up clothing, we have to try."

"He's sick, Morgan. If it rains, the cold…"

"We have to try. Those aren't rain clouds. They're too high. This…" She pointed up. "Is snow. We need to move."

He was hesitant, but eventually he agreed.

It was the trickiest thing he had ever done in his life and it reiterated to Ross how much he didn't know. It was all guess work.

Judd helped. He woke enough to explain how to unhitch the boat and coughed his way through explaining how to get the motor going and how to steer, explaining it was like a lawn mower.

He loaded Judd, Dawson and the supplies in the boat first. Once he had the boat near the water's edge, Sister Helena got in, and Ross and Morgan pushed the boat out, climbing in once they cleared the road.

It was so cold it hurt and the muscles in his legs cramped.

A chill set into his bones and he knew it wasn't going away anytime soon. The cold wind that continuously blew didn't help either. He hated starting the motor and the speed of the boat made it even colder. So many bodies floated in water, they looked like logs.

Morgan kept trying the radio.

Nothing.

It was a mistake, a huge mistake getting in the boat. Ross felt it, he knew for certain when the water thickened with sludge and ice and the motor fluttered and finally stalled.

The boat stopped moving. Ross tried and tried again to start it, however it was useless.

They were going nowhere.

Surrounded by gray chunks of concrete and ice that floated by. Unfortunately, they were at a standstill.

In the quiet of nature's newest Missouri lake, Ross resolved they had reached the end of their journey.

He felt horrible for Dawson. The little boy was covered in a blanket, never leaving Judd's side. Every time Judd's body shook with a cough, Dawson hugged him.

"I'm sorry," Morgan said. "We should have stayed."

"No." Ross shook his head. "What's meant to be was meant to be. I just... I just can't figure out why we made it this far. What was the point?"

"Maybe it's bigger than us," Sister Helena said. "Perhaps there was a reason beyond our knowledge that we were meant to be. Maybe being something to each other before we leave this earth was enough."

Immediately, Ross looked at Morgan.

"What?" she asked.

"Usually, you make an anti-God statement at this time."

"Nah, not this time." She glanced at Dawson. "There are no atheists in this foxhole right now."

"Oh my God, people," Judd spoke weakly. "You all are so morbid. I'm the one that's dying here."

"Judd no," Dawson whimpered. "Please don't say that."

"Sorry, Buddy." Judd tried to sit up. "You guys are moping."

Whispering, Ross leaned to him. "We're stalled. We're stuck. It's cold. We aren't going anywhere. We're at the end of the line."

"For now. There's a reason," Judd said.

"What would that be?" Ross asked.

"My legacy. My song. I have to make sure it lives on."

"I know it." Ross laughed.

"Yeah, but do you know the chords?" Judd asked, then coughed. "Sister, I know you have a journal. Was it saved?'

"I… I think." She grabbed her backpack. "Yes. Yes it was."

"Grab a pen, write down these chords. Ross needs them. Morgan, can you hand me my guitar?"

"Sure." Morgan grabbed it.

Judd tried to inch his way to a sitting position. He grunted and Ross helped him up. He then placed the strap over Judd's head.

Weakly, he placed his hand on the guitar. He eyes rolled slightly and his head jerked as he caught himself dozing off. He muttered the simple three chord progression of the verse, then the chorus to Sister Helena, then struck an off tune chord.

"You gonna play, Judd?" Dawson asked.

"I am. Not very good. Not very fast, but I need to play. Join in if you know it."

The beat wasn't as fast as the recording, and in the stand still boat, Judd struggled to play.

Steam emerging from their mouths, they slowly sang with Judd. Their voices echoing across the water filled land.

"Walking in the rain, feeling no more pain, Jack and Jim my best friends again. I can stumble, I can fall, I can take it all, but the addictions in my blood …keeps me heart a flarin'…"

"Craving…" Judd sang, then stopped. His head tilted back.

"Judd? Judd!" Dawson screamed out panicked.

"Look." Judd peered up to the sky. "An angel."

Ross felt heartbroken when Judd said that, until he heard the distant flutter of a helicopter. "Judd. That's not an angel. It's a chopper. We're saved. We're saved."

Silence.

Ross' eyes met Dawson's as the little boy clutched Judd's hand and his head fell to Judd's chest.

The glory and excitement of the hovering rescue was shrouded in a gloom, far darker than the clouds.

Judd… was gone.


Branson, Missouri was gone. Technically it was still there, but under water. Those who survived the drop of humanity, heard about the storms and retreated to the Branson Airport twelve hundred feet above sea level.

Bill Thomas ran the airport and greeted them when they arrived.

He was just like Dawson dreamt. A little older, a little thicker, but he looked and sounded the same as he had in his dreams.

"Out west there's not much, but there's life and civilization," Bill said. "We have enough fuel for one more flight out."

Dawson didn't hear much about where they were going. Somewhere in Colorado. He heard Bill explain to Ross that it was some sort of manmade incident gone bad. That's what they were thinking, and nature took over.

They believed the water was going to keep on rising for a while so they were headed to high elevation areas.

"It will end up becoming a whole new geographical world," Bill told them.

Dawson didn't know what that meant. He half listened. He was more concerned about Judd. He didn't want to leave him, he couldn't leave him.

"I'm sorry, little man, I really am." Ross said. "We're going to get cleaned up and get some new clothes. You wanna come, or stay here?"

"I want to stay with Judd for a little bit."

"Okay you do that. Listen," Ross crouched down. "You're not alone. You have us, alright. We're here for you."

Dawson nodded.

"Will he be okay?" Morgan asked.

"I'm here," Sister Helena said. "I'll stay. Go get fresh clothes."

Dawson sat on the floor by Judd's covered body. At least they didn't leave him behind.

The chopper could have left Judd, but the pilot didn't.

They airlifted them all, one by one, including Judd into the chopper.

Because of the radio calls, they knew there was an injured man, and a paramedic was on board. He tried with diligence to revive Judd the entire short flight to Branson, but it was futile.

Dawson wanted to cry, he just couldn't believe his friend was gone. He was in shock. He kept waiting for Judd to open his eyes. He never did. He died with the guitar in his hands.

The adults around him talked about a reason for this and a reason for that. Dawson wanted and needed a reason why Judd left him. However, nobody could give him one.

Judd made a promise and kept it.

He kept Dawson safe all the way to Branson.

That meant something to Dawson. He knew his parents would be happy about that. All those people Dawson knew were now gone, those he loved… gone. It was now his job, his responsibility to keep them alive, to honor them. His parents… and Judd.

Even at his young age, he knew the best way to do that was to live and survive.

It would be a different way of life, but he would give it his best shot.

He didn't really have a choice. His parents and Judd would have wanted that.


His knuckles made a popping noise when he clenched his cramping fingers into a fist. "Damn it," Dawson shook his hand.

"Language." Came the voice in another room.

"He heard that?" Dawson shook his head. "Man."

He lay on his single bed in a bedroom he shared in the three room apartment in Leadville Nine. It was small, but it was home. Everything was neat and tidy, always, except his corner of the room.

Note book sprawled out next to him, Dawson lifted a pencil, wrote a sentence, bobbed his head, hummed a little, then stuck the pencil in his mouth before working out the chord progression on the guitar.

He had it. He almost had it when there was a knock on his door.

"Aw, man."

It opened and Ross stepped in. "Hey, now, let's go. You know Joe only comes to do hair once a month. You miss this appointment I'm cutting your hair myself."

Dawson groaned. The last time Ross cut his hair it was horrible. He was twelve and Ross made so many mistakes Dawson ended up nearly bald.

Dawson used to say he got stuck with Ross. When they arrived in Leadville after the events, it was supposed to be temporary, but they never left.

Ross immediately 'claimed' him, telling Dawson, "I had children, I can do this. Okay?"

"Yeah okay." Dawson was eight. He figured that was what he had to do.

Ross wasn't a bad guy, he was tough and strict yet Dawson was really glad he had him.

Ross immediately was given a job in security enforcement and was one of the main men that built the small living complexes.

"We'll go somewhere else one day," Ross would say. Dawson was still waiting. He figured by now it wasn't going to happen, because with each passing year, Ross had even more responsibility.

Every civilization, at least the functioning ones, were so far apart and separated by the new lakes, the only way there was by boat. It took a lot of bartering to even get passage.

North of the Rockies, there was a lot of area not flooded, but the land was overrun with Trancers, there were more of them than people who were normal. Everyone kept saying they'd die out, but they never did.

Dawson fully believed they were the new evolution of man.

Ross told him it was nonsense.

Life was simple. He got up, went to school and then work. At fifteen he had a job, everyone over the age of thirteen did. He worked in pickling and hated it. Leadville Nine was the smallest of the twelve complexes. A hundred and thirteen people lived there. They farmed their own section and bartered with neighboring villages.

When he was younger he used to think that Ross and Morgan would end up together. They never got along, they always fought. Dawson remembered how she used to be. She ended up being pretty nice. She married a guy in Leadville Seven and had two kids. He visited her every week.

Sister Helena was the one only one who left the mountain and was teaching in California somewhere. She took a boat and only came back three times in the past seven years.

He missed her, he thought of her, but rarely saw her. That was life now.

"Hey." Ross snapped his finger. "Are you listening?"

"I almost have this," Dawson said. "I really do."

"I know, but your hair is too long. It needs to be cut. I want to spend time with you. Hang out. Can you please put down the guitar? I know it's hard to do, it's like an extension of your body."

Dawson laughed. "Alright He grabbed a cloth, wiped off the neck of the guitar to free it from smudges, then gently set it on his bed. The guitar meant a lot to Dawson. It hadn't left his side since it left Judd's hands.

"Can you clean up this mess later?" Ross asked.

"Aw, man, you kill me." Dawson groaned.

"No, you… kill me." Ross mussed his shaggy hair. "Let's go. We won't be long."

Dawson nodded as he reached down and closed his notebook.

"You writing a new song?" Ross asked.

"Yeah, I am. Trying to anyways."

"Can I hear it?"

"When we get back." Dawson followed him through the door.

"What's it called?"

"It's called …. Call me Mr. Heston."

Closed mouth, Ross nodded. "Good title."

"Yeah. Yeah it is."

The title was good and had more meaning than Ross probably would understand.

Life wasn't all that exciting for Dawson, however it was good in its own way. He had his music, he had Ross, and he had his memories.

In a world that was tossed upside down, Dawson had landed on his feet.

Before leaving with Ross, Dawson looked back once at the guitar on his bed and pulled the door closed with a smile.