The End ....

these extraordinary circumstances certainly had not helped matters. He red-lined. 'You know what!? I've been making mistakes since this all started. Mike told me that if there was ever a national emergency, I was supposed to get Erin and Rebel and get to his house as fast as I could. Well what did I do? I got my family trapped in our attic. I got our dog killed. I damn near killed Mike's son when they came to rescue us, and what does Mike do for me? He saves Erin and me. He gives us a relatively safe place to stay and makes sure we have food to eat. Then when everything goes to hell, what does he do? He saves us all, all of us! Then what do we do? We leave him. We leave the most capable person who could get us through all of this. I watched a woman damn near kill her entire family yesterday. Now I'm not saying Mike could have prevented it. That woman had lost hope, hope that there was a better future for her children. But Mike brings us that hope. Maybe she would have felt that hope long enough at least to push on to the next day and the next. Let's not forget last night. Mrs. Devereaux takes first watch and nobody thought to relieve her. We were lucky it was only a dozen zombies, what happens next time?'

'Eliza is following him though,' April said meekly. 'Or at least his son.'

'That's really the reason we all left, isn't it,' he said, stating a fact. 'We were afraid, we were cowards. We took what we thought was going to be the easier path.'

'Now see here,' Mrs. Devereaux started. 'We are not cowards because we want to survive.'

'You would think that.' Paul shot back. Mrs. Devereaux was more stung by the words than she thought she would be. 'It's Mike's hour of need and we abandoned him. I can guarantee he would not have done that to anyone of us, including you, Mrs. Devereaux. I consider him my brother and I walked away.' Erin hugged him tightly but he gently pushed her away. He felt disgusted with himself.

'It's too late to turn around now Paul,' Alex said practically.

'Survival is a powerful motivator,' Joann told the group.

'Yes, but did we increase or decrease our odds when we left?' Paul asked.

The group drove on another fifteen minutes in utter silence before Alex started to gently apply the brakes.

Paul saw a white panel van up ahead on the side of the road. Alex pulled up alongside it. Paul hopped down from the truck and quickly realized his mistake. The van was still running. Paul put one foot on the running board, prepared to regain the safety of the cab if things went wrong.

'Stop right there, mister!' a voice shouted from the tree line.

Paul could almost feel the steel sights of a rifle press against the small of his back. Paul turned back around with his hands in the air.

'Put your arms down. I didn't say this was a stick up. Don't go reaching for anything though, this thing's liable to go off.'

'What's going on?' April asked, unrolling the window.

A whistle of approval issued once again from the tree line. 'Whoowee, you're traveling in some fine company,' the disembodied voice shouted. The truck window immediately rolled up. 'I haven't seen a live woman in weeks! Although some of the dead ones have been alright, bad manners though, always wanting to eat before dinner.' A loud laugh ensued. 'What are you doing in these parts? You weren't planning on taking my ride where you, because rudeness can get you killed.'

Alex came around the front of the truck, rifle in hand.

'Not sure who invited you to the party,' came the voice. 'You're completely overdressed. Now put down the party favor before someone gets hurt.'

'I'd rather not,' Alex answered back shakily.

'Now I understand your hesitation, I really do, especially in these times. Nary a person you can trust, least of all some crazy bastard hiding in the woods. Seeing as I have a fully automatic machine pistol in my possession and that looks like a bolt action 30-30, I figure I can get off a good hundred or so rounds before you can do two. You don't really know where I am and you two are as clear as cable TV, so what say we start over?'

Alex laid his rifle on the ground and proceeded to put his hands over his head.

The laughing ensued. 'Now like I told your friend. This isn't a stick up. I just want to make sure nobody gets hurt, 'specially me, if you get my meaning. Now first things first, is that girl you have with you of a legal age?'

'What?' Alex asked confused.

'The one that looked out the window, is she of an age to be legally wooed?'

'What?' Alex again. 'What the hell is wooed?'

'Do I have to spell it out to you man! Some considered me a very dapper chap until of course they tried to eat all my vitals.'

'This guy is nuts,' Paul whispered to Alex.

'Yeah, and he has a directional microphone,' came the voice from the woods.

'Wonderful,' Paul sighed.

'I know, isn't it? Now seeing as it appears that you two wanted to pilfer my ride and that I am basically the law unto myself, I have two options.'

There was a long pause.

'Umm, this is where you two are supposed to ask what the options are.'

'Okay, I'll play,' Paul said. 'What are these options?'

'I can kill you where you stand.' Paul and Alex tensed. 'Damn near made you both piss your pants didn't I?' he cackled again.

'Fucking hilarious!' Paul yelled hoping that the increased volume hurt their captor's ears.

'Or you can let me come with you.'

'Well, let's see.' Alex said. 'You kill us or we let you come with us. Hmm, let me think.'

'Ah, not really funny Alex,' Paul said, putting his hands back up in the air.

'Who are you?' Alex asked.

'Answer me first.'

'Fine, you can come with us,' Alex said.

'Great, I was starting to get a little lonely.' It was tough to describe the man that walked out of the woods being that he was fully clothed in a gilly suit. (A specially designed camouflage for elite snipers.) 'They call me Mad Jack. Well actually I call myself Mad Jack. I was going to go with Mad Max but that Mel fellow already used it and I wanted something unique.'

'Is that a toy?' Paul asked, pointing at the red tipped 'machine pistol' Mad Jack was holding.

'It is most certainly not a toy!' Mad Jack said indignantly. 'It shoots air soft pellets at 325 feet per second at the cyclical rate of 125 rounds per minute. It can cause quite the stinger if it hits a vital area.'

'Crazy Jack might have been a better name,' Alex said, grabbing his rifle off the ground.

'What are you doing out here Cra…I mean Mad Jack?' Paul asked.

'Had to take a piss, been drinking since the sun came up.'

'With a directional microphone?' Alex asked.

'Oh yeah, let me get that.' Mad Jack turned back around and went into the woods.

'He's friggen crazy, Paul. We should just get out of here.'

'Still have my ear piece on!' Mad Jack yelled back from the woods.

'Just kidding,' Alex replied.

Mad Jack came out of the woods with an impressive array of equipment. 'I was a techie nerd. Worked for the State Department before the biters came. Been ransacking Radio Shacks ever since.'

Now that the threat was over, Paul walked over to look in the van to see what wares Mad Jack might possess. 'Holy shit!' Paul exclaimed.

Mad Jack looked down at the ground. 'Yeah, I really like Schlitz.'

'Must be twenty or thirty cases of the stuff.'

'Thirty-two.' Mad Jack answered.

'I'll ride with MJ,' Paul said happily.

Alex walked up to Mad Jack just as he pulled off his headgear. He looked to be somewhere in his late twenties and as far as men go would be considered on the plus side of the good looking column. Not Brad Pitt but definitely better than Quasimodo. The relief in MJ's eyes was evident. He had been alone for a long time. They shook hands.