"Oh, you mean the guns, food, generator, and things?"

Sarah nodded.

"Well, it's a long story short, but the short version is that the Army came here months ago. They destroyed all the zombies in the area, put up those fences, and declared this school a safe haven. They were intending to designate this place as a shelter for the remains of the population in this town, but never got a chance to officially open it before they were called away to fight elsewhere," he said. "We don't know where they went, but they promised they would return, only they never did. They did leave a handful of soldiers here to keep the place secure, but the soldiers wanted to rescue their families or whomever was left back where they came from, and one by one, they left to go retrieve their families. We couldn't argue with them. They took what they could carry, and none of them has ever returned. We kind of just inherited the leftover supplies and equipment, and thankfully, it has been enough to sustain us so that we don't have to venture out there for supplies."

"So, that's it? You just stumbled into a treasure trove? And here I was thinking you might've actually worked for all of this shit," Sarah said and jumped from the chair and out of the room.

"Sarah, wait," he said, pleading.

"What is it?"

"I have a favor to ask you if you do leave. I have an exwife in Townsend. Her name is Annabelle. If I give you the address would you check on her for me?" He crumpled on his desk, tired, beaten, and weak. He was out of energy, out of hope.

Sarah said nothing.

"Please, I'll give you anything you want. I just need to know if she survived, and if she did, I want her to know that I still love her and that I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt my Annabelle."

All the anger was instantly zapped from Sarah's system, siphoned off and thrown away in that moment and replaced by genuine concern.

"I'll see what I can do," she said. "Maybe I'll go alone and come back for Joelle. That girl needs me, you know."

"Thank you," he said.

Sarah closed the door. She went back to her room to pack, content to have a mission and not rot away in the school any longer than she had to.

Chapter 11.

"You'd better come back in one piece," Joelle said. She faced Sarah in the courtyard holding a gym bag and trying not to cry.

Sarah had loaded the Chrysler LeBoeuf with enough food for three days and plenty of shotgun ammunition.

"I'll come back for you, promise."

Joelle hugged her.

"OK, get off of me," Sarah said, pushing her friend away. "I'll be back in a day or two. Townsend is only two hundred miles away. If Dr. Adams didn't have all these brats to watch over I'd bring him along with me."

"Take this just in case," she said, and handed her the gym bag. "Don't blow yourself up please."

Sarah shook her head and put the bag in the backseat. She hopped behind the steering wheel and honked the horn, which was the signal to open the main gate. But as she started the car, the teenagers near the fence didn't move a muscle.

Dr. Adams appeared at the car window, followed closely by the tall Native American. He tapped on the glass and she rolled down her window.

"I thought you'd like some company so I'm allowing Monaco to join you. Before you argue with me, let me tell you that he lived in Townsend before and knows the area, and can help you find your way there and back."

Sarah stared at the Native American. He was tough, but young, and would need constant supervision.

"If you don't follow my every order I'll drive your ass right back here and drop you off outside, understand?"

Monaco nodded, never taking his dark eyes from her.

"Well, why are you standing there? Get in the car and let's go."

Monaco walked around the front of the car, opened the passenger door, and sat down in the seat. He clutched a rifle and had a small bag with him.

"Be careful now. If you're not back in two days we'll send a search party out for you."

"Don't bother," Sarah said. "If we're not back we're rotting in hell. Now open that fucking gate."

Dr. Adams' mouth split into a wide grin. "God speed you on your journey." He rapped his knuckles on the car's roof and waved his hands. "Open the gate."

The teenagers pushed open the fence and the zombies who had gathered there shuffled inside.

Sarah stomped on the gas pedal.

"Hold on to something, Monaco. This is going to be messy."

The Native American crossed his arms, defiant.

Sarah plowed head on into the mass of walking dead. Four of the zombies were snapped in half, two flew over the windshield, and a couple were crushed under the tires. The engine whined, but the car didn't stop. Dark blood splattered the windshield and she turned on the wiper blades.

"Whoa, that was fun," she laughed and continued to drive down the road. "I didn't really think we were going to make it through them." She glanced in the rearview mirror and watched the gate close. "Looks like its smooth sailing from here." She turned back to the road.

A lone zombie was standing in the middle of the road and when it saw the car it raised its hands, as though it would attempt to tear through the moving vehicle to get to the warm flesh inside.

Sarah slammed into it, knocking the zombie down. It didn't get back up. Sarah withdrew her knife and sawed a line in the dashboard.

"What are you doing?" Monaco finally said.

"Oh my God! You can talk. I was beginning to think you were a mute." She finished making the line and focused on driving. "I'm keeping score. I bet you I can nail fifty of those walking corpses by the time we reach Townsend."

He stared at her.

"Okay, how about sixty? If I run over sixty of those pus buckets you'll owe me a favor."

"What kind of favor?"

"I don't know yet. What do you want if I don't reach my goal?"

Monaco sighed. He uncrossed his arms and grumbled.

"What's that? I couldn't hear you."

"I want you and Joelle to leave and not come back. We don't need your type around."

Sarah's eyes narrowed.

"What kind of type' are you referring to, friend?"

"You're Marauders, thieves and killers. Dr. Adams might've welcomed you but I don't."

She slapped him on the thigh.

"Fair trade," she said, and swerved to plow down another lone zombie. The dead man fell backward when the front end rammed into him and his mid-section was peeled away as the tires dragged over his body. "Two down, fifty eight to go."

"That one doesn't count," he said.

"And why wouldn't it count? I took him out."

"He wasn't in the road. You drove onto the grass to hit him."

"Okay, lawmaker, no point given unless they're on the road."

She shook her head, "This is going to be a long ride."

Sarah was making her tenth line in the dashboard when she spotted a motorcycle tailing them. It stayed a good hundred feet back, and when she slowed down or sped up, the motorcyclist did the same. She pulled off in the breakdown lane and killed the engine.

"Why are we stopping?" Monaco demanded.

"We're being followed. Stay in the car, and if he starts shooting then shoot back."

"Why don't you leave me the keys?"

"Yeah right, you'd just drive back home and say I died."

"I would never do that to you," he insisted. "I may not like you but I'm not a deserter."

She took the keys from the ignition and left him sitting in the car.

"Watch my back."

She carried her shotgun and waited in the road for the approaching stranger.

The motorcycle stopped halfway before it reached her. A man clad in all black, wearing a gas mask and carrying a long rifle strapped to his back watched her.

She recognized him immediately as the one who had saved her from the Watcher and the zombies. She lowered her shotgun to the pavement and causally walked up to him. In turn, he shut off his motorcycle.

"Hey," she addressed him, "are you going to follow me around all day or was there something else you wanted?"

His voice was muffled under the mask when he replied, but he didn't bother to remove it.

"That depends on where you're going." He couldn't take his eyes from her, as though suddenly mesmerized.

"I don't associate with strangers. Why don't you take off that mask and introduce yourself."

He did as she asked and peeled off the gas mask. He had fine features around the nose and mouth, but a hard chin and haunted eyes.

"My name is Alex. I saw you driving away from the school and thought I'd see where you were headed."

Sarah nodded. She saw right through him. He was after her, perhaps Graves had sent him or maybe it was something more.

"Well, Alex, my friend and I are heading for Townsend, it's a little town near the Smoky Mountains, and we wouldn't mind another gun on our side. I can provide you with some food and water for your trouble if you're interested?"

His eyes glanced over her slender body and witty grin.

"I'll help you," he said.

"Good, follow close behind and if you see me run over a few zombies along the way just ignore it. I'm a spunky girl." She headed back for the car and was surprised to see Monaco aiming at their new companion.

"Wait! I didn't get your name," Alex said, and chased after her. The instincts he'd relied on for so long disappeared as he followed her. It wasn't until he saw the Native American point the rifle at him that he hesitated.

"I'm Sarah and this is Monaco. Try to keep up," she winked at him and slid back into the car.

The Native American kept the gun trained on Alex until Sarah gently made him lower the barrel.

"Don't worry, he's harmless," she said to Monaco. "Now tell me which way do we go to get to Townsend?"

"That depends. Do you want to risk going through the city of Maryville or stay on the back roads and hope nobody has set up a road block or worse?"

"We'll stick to the back roads. And if we run into trouble I'll sick the sniper on them."

Monaco grunted his disapproval.

Two zombies were up ahead. They were bent over a dead woman and were tearing out her lower intestine.

Sarah slammed into them, sending the zombies sprawling and running over the dead lady.

"Two points, Monaco. That brings me up to twelve. Are you worried yet?"

"I was worried when I got into the car," he said.

She laughed at him. Alex stayed in the rearview mirror, closer, but still keeping his distance.

The car's headlights cut through the country road darkness, illuminating an occasional wreck and hordes of flesh eaters.

"We're getting low on gas. Where's the nearest gas station?"