Jake Green gripped the steering wheel as he raced along the empty road.

The dark truck raced along behind him.

He let a breath escape through his clenched teeth, and he forced himself to think of them.

It had been too long since he had seen any of their faces.

This was what he had told himself all night. As he drove along the darkened streets. From the moment he finished listening to Hawkins insist he was recuperating. As he argued with Chavez and the government officials.

He hadn't tried to contact them. The last time he'd been in town, the power had been cut. And no one had been home to pick up the phone anyway.

He had listened to their arguments. They had promised him they would look into it, to the best of their abilities in good time. They were, after all, at the start of a major war, and they had their priorities straight. They had reminded him of the dangers of the roads, the high chances of encountering trouble at the checkpoints, and the circumstances under which he had left home in the first place.

None of this had changed things for him. He'd remained adamant- he had to get back to Jericho. He'd left his people behind. Who knew what could have happened to them? Who was still in hiding, who could have been captured by now, and how many were even still alive? Now that he was satisfied that he'd done his part, he needed to get back to them, to see how they were surviving. He couldn't sleep, couldn't sit, couldn't think without imagining their faces, seeing in his head what kind of horrors could have swallowed them.

They'd argued, but it really hadn't been too hard to convince Hawkins. He was thinking a lot about some of those people back in Jericho himself. Jake had set out, armed with whatever aid the Texans could spare, determined to drive until he was back at the safe house or unable to sit up at the wheel.

Now it seemed as though one of those options was going to win out. He held his foot down on the pedal, seeing the truck gaining on him in the review mirror.

If he hadn't already been driving for so many hours, so long he'd lost track of whether it was day or night, he might have been able to scream in frustration. Now, he put all his energy into pushing the truck to go faster. The truck behind him continued to speed towards him.

It was all too familiar, only this time, so much had changed. Last time it had been unexpected. He had been fighting to survive, to help his town survive. This time, he should have known this would happen.

The thieves were a few feet away. He was so close to home now, but this truck was so much closer. He cursed himself for choosing this. He was certain now, he'd made the wrong choice again. Everyone had said to stay, to wait for a safer moment, but he'd chosen this moment. He shouldn't have given in to his impulses, but he just had to see them for himself, for his own peace of mind. He couldn't wait a minute. Now he was seconds away from failing them.

A sound of metal and glass smashing and grinding together, moving with the flying bits of machine, bones and flesh through a trash compactor, and gliding through oil, fire, water...and he was on the ground.

All was quiet, still, cold. Nothing to see or hear. It was over.

He willed himself not to feel it. Not to try to make sense of the flurry of activity moments before. After everything, this was it. Leaving everyone in Texas, everyone in Kansas, without a word.

He felt the scenes flashing as they had last time. The moments he wouldn't think were important, but as each one sharply burst into his mind, he suddenly realized, momentarily, the significance of that time he'd hid Elizabeth Brooke's lunchbox on the overhang at the back of the school, and the time he'd gotten a fish-hook in his thumb and Gramps had pulled it out. He saw himself driving Stanley's truck to its limit, and smashing a glass against the wall at his apartment in San Diego.

The little girl was there. She was so familiar, but still a shock to see. There were others too, behind her, beside her. Their shadows stretched and spread into the night.

It seemed as though there were whispers. Whistling wind. He couldn't get up for them.

They persisted. He knew what they wanted. What everyone wanted. He couldn't do it. He would fail them in this, just like he had so often before. His body was tired, wouldn't allow him to do anything else.

He could almost see their faces. The faces of the people in Jericho, that he'd been waiting to see, were fading. These ones here were getting closer. A shimmer of red hair getting brighter in the blackness, a smoky smell of cologne so familiar he could cry, a laugh he remembered from a summer's day when he'd painted a hand-me-down bike purple so it didn't look like Stanley's anymore. He wanted to see them again. He waited for them to reach out to him. He wondered what was taking them so long.

He was aware he was shaking. He closed his eyes, willing his body to stop, to let the darkness take him in. It was coming.

Jake.

This whisper was clear. A voice he knew. And suddenly, the other voices stopped. They were still there, but they weren't coming closer.

Jake, buddy, what are you doing still on the ground?

Had he been able to move, he might have laughed. Can't you see I'm a little incapacitated at the moment?

The familiar voice of his friend answered. Yeah, you're lying on the ground.

Moments passed silently. Jake felt his arms and legs were cold. He couldn't will himself to move them.

Jake, you have to get up again.

I don't want to.

What's your problem?

Tired.

It seemed a silly word to describe it. He was exhausted down to his bones. Everything that had happened in the last few days, weeks, months, was crushing into his head. He had been running so long, from one terrible scene to another, and now he was on the ground, not able to move.

Leave me alone, Freddie. I've done what I could. Now I can't do any more.

You've done what you could?

Yes. You'd have laughed if you'd seen me. I came back to town and started playing hero every week. Always worrying they couldn't look after themselves.

But they can?

Yeah. Well, I don't know, but I don't know if I can look after them anymore. Not with what's heading their way now.

So you're just gonna stay here?

It's better this way.

Okay, that's ridiculous man. Get up.

Freddie, I've just been hit by a truck.

Get up.

Surprisingly solid hands grabbed him, pulling him to his feet. Surprisingly, he stayed standing, feeling almost like he was floating. He opened his eyes. He blinked slowly. The sky was filled with hazy light. It was still cold, but it was definitely daytime.

He was surprised to be blinking at the face of his friend.

“Freddie!”

In a daze, he glanced around. He was standing on the road, but there was no sign of the car wreck, or the road gang.

Clutching his pounding head, he stammered. “What's- what's happening?”

“That's a good question. Let's go see.” Freddie was pulling him along. His touch was solid; it seemed more real than the sky and earth around them.

“Freddie, how are you here?” he asked.

“I liked your first question better. Much easier to look into,” said Freddie with a chuckle.

He had a shock as they walked towards the edge of the road and he saw Jericho in the distance. How had he gotten so close? And how was he standing now, talking to his dead friend? Jake stumbled along, unsure exactly what or who he was following. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“We're going to go find out what's happening in your town. Check in on all those people who don't need you. You'd better get ready though- they'll probably act like they're seeing a ghost.”

Jake glanced at him.

Freddie held up his hands. “You, not me. They won't be seeing me at all. Don't worry, though. I'll still be there to guide you and stuff.” He said it like it was an amusing punch line.

“So how am I the ghost?” Jake asked slowly, not liking the tone this conversation was taking.

They stopped at the edge of the path. Jake could see the buildings on the outskirts of town. Freddie made a sweeping gesture. “You're looking at a Jericho that hasn't seen Jake Green in six years. Give or take.”

Jake stood still as Freddie walked forward. Freddie turned back, a grin on his face.

“Don't you want to see what it's like? What it would be like if you'd never come back to Jericho?”

The realization was dawning on Jake like a punch to the stomach. Suddenly, he was not in the mood for walking.

“Don't tell me I got you all the way here and you don't want to see.” Freddie made a grimace of mock-annoyance. “I get it. Something's telling you this won't be pretty. Well, you know you have to see for yourself.”

Jake looked darkly across the town. He knew this familiar voice was right. It was inevitable, but he couldn't help stalling.

“Come on, man. You started this. Now we see it through.”

Freddie's inviting smile, so much like far away, happier days, convinced him to begin stepping towards the road.

“That's good. Just keep walking.”

“Like I have a choice,” grumbled Jake, following his late friend.

 As they approached the beginning of the road, Jake struggled to get his bearings. Freddie's voice beside him was still murmuring instructions.

“You won't hit a checkpoint since you're not traveling in by a common road, but you'll probably run into someone who'll want to know who you are.”

It took a few moments for Jake to catch what he was saying and ask “What do you mean? Doesn't everyone know who I am? I've been gone awhile, but last time I came back everyone recognized the mayor's screw-up son.”

“These ones are different. They won't all recognize you.”

They were walking down a street lined mostly with houses. It didn't look very different from the last time he'd been in town; it wouldn't be featured on a magazine cover any time soon, but it wasn't any more dismal than the Jericho of his time and place.

It was practically deserted. He could see some kids playing in a yard a little way up the street. As they approached, the kids stopped and stared at him. They stood rooted to the spot. They didn't seem curious, or nervous, they just looked. He found himself looking back, despite his efforts to stay uninvolved. He remembered he was supposed to be returning to town. A town where some wouldn't recognize him.

“Hey guys,” he said in what he hoped was a friendly manner. “I used to live here, but it's been awhile. Do any of you know where I can find the mayor?”

They kept looking at him. One of them pointed slowly up the street. “Maybe town hall,” he muttered. “Follow the next street and turn onto Main.” He seemed oddly familiar to Jake.

Jake gave him a careful smile. “Thanks.”

The kid looked at him expectantly. In a flash, he recognized him. From the bus. This was the kid who had been sitting near Stacy. He had tried to get him to hold her shoulders down, but the kid had looked away, barely able to touch her head. Now he was looking boldly up at Jake.

“Do you have any food mister?”

Jake was taken aback. He was expected to pay for these directions. He slowly rummaged through his pockets, expecting to find nothing. “How come you guys aren't in school?” he asked casually.

The kid smirked. “There's no school anymore.”

Jake was distracted at his casual answer, but jumped with surprise when his hand grazed a small package of crackers.

Didn't think I'd leave you empty handed on this trip, did you? whispered Freddie's voice.

Ignoring the strange explanation, Jake thrust the food into the kid's hands and continued quickly down the street, not looking back as the boys watched him go.

He followed the directions, the route he'd known since he was a kid, and turned onto Main Street. It was the middle of the day, and there weren't a lot of people out in the streets. There weren't any more children playing either, despite school being over. He glanced up and down the street, surveying the damage. He was mildly surprised to see that a part of the wall to the bank had collapsed. The street didn't show evidence of being torn up by mortars, but a lot of the buildings did seem to have sustained varying degrees of damage. It reminded him a little of New Bern, that day he had arrived looking for Eric.

Crazy, isn't it? asked the voice in his ear.

Jake didn't answer. He just continued to take in the details of the street- the shattered windows of the Cyberjolt Cafe, the crumbling decay of the church doors, the many holes in the side of the wall at Gracie's.  

I'd look to your three o'clock if I were you, warned Freddie. Jake's head snapped in that direction. Two uniformed soldiers, standing in front of a store, were paying close attention to him. He didn't recognize them, but he noticed the A.S.A. patches on their chests. He made eye contact with them.

You should go over there. Check in. That's all they're after right now.

Jake stepped towards them, as nonchalantly as he could.

They were cool, but courteous as he approached them. “Good afternoon, Sir. Haven't seen you around before. Did you just arrive?” asked one of them as he stepped forward. He was the shorter of the two.

“Hi. I...I just arrived. I grew up here, and I've been trying to get home for awhile,” Jake said with relative ease. “Jake Green.”

The other man held out his hand, but not to extend a greeting. “Can I see some identification or proof of residence?”

Jake started to object, preparing to explain the ordeal he'd had traveling here. Just get your i.d, Freddie whispered. From your pocket.

Jake found his wallet in his pocket, and a shiver went up his arm. He hadn't carried a wallet in a long time. He pulled out his old driver's license.

“Hmmm...” said the soldier, drawing it out as he looked from the i.d. to Jake and back. “Says here you live in California.” 

“Well, I was living in California. I've been trying to make it back here since the bombs. I was on vacation when they hit.” He was thinking fast, trying to remember exactly what places had survived, according to Hawkins. He couldn't say he had been in San Diego, but if these were Cheyenne soldiers, better not to say he'd been anywhere east of the Mississippi.

Tell them you were in Vegas.

“I was in Nevada. Vegas.”

The short one nodded, but pressed on. “It took you quite a while to get here.”

Jake smirked. “Spent the first winter there. Road here was hell. Refugee camp to refugee camp.”

They were still watching him suspiciously. “Look, my family lives here. Ask them. Ask anyone. Everyone here knows the Greens. My-”

He stopped. If they hadn't both been watching him, he would have looked to Freddie. He didn't know if these men had met any Greens.

He went out on a limb. “My mother's Gail Green. My brother is Eric. My father-” he faltered, but continued, because he'd been away for six years, “-is Johnston Green.”

The soldiers stood, still watching for sudden movements. Finally, the one who had remained silent the whole time spoke to his co-worker. “Green- that's the nurse, right?”

“Your mom a nurse?” asked the short one.

Jake nodded, smiling just a little. “You've seen her? Is she okay?”

“Last I heard,” he answered. “Go on then, go find your folks.”

Jake nodded curtly, and hurried back to the street.

Easier than you thought, right? asked Freddie. Good. That was the easy part.

Jake rolled his eyes. He was glad, in spite of himself, to know his mother was alright. Something about this so familiar street was making him very uneasy, and he felt a little better knowing someone he loved was somewhere here.

He was getting closer to Bailey's now. He had considered going straight home to find his family, but something told him to look to the town's unofficial gathering place first. If his mother was at home, he could surely go to find her after he had discovered what else had happened in his absence. What better place then Bailey's?

He noticed first that the windows were missing here, just as they'd been at the Cyberjolt, only instead of left in disrepair, someone had covered the openings with wooden boards. It seemed like it was still open for business, though he chuckled as he thought that even if it wasn't, he would have gone to see what was left of it anyway. He went up to the entrance and swung open the door.

It was dark and hazy inside, but definitely still open. Jake looked around. He wasn't sure if it was just the lack of lighting, aside from a few candles, but it seemed a lot more dingy than the last time he'd been inside. Even when she'd been out of everything but mustard, Mary had kept the place presentable.

As his eyes adjusted, he noticed that there were a few people scattered around the bar, mostly seated by themselves and nursing drinks. He went up to the bar and glanced towards the back. The only other person at the bar was a woman, slumped over on the stool with her head leaning on her arms, her hair draped over her face.

He waited a few moments, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. He heard her footsteps as she turned the corner, and he saw the second familiar face since his arrival.

“Oh, just a minute. You can have a seat,” she said, balancing the stack of wooden boards she'd just brought in from the back. She turned towards him, and looked at him expectantly.

“Well, did you want a drink?” she asked, a little impatiently.

“Mary...” he said. She looked with more attention now, startled by this stranger who knew her name.

He almost laughed at her as she peered at him in the dim lighting. She still didn't know.

“Jake,” he said.

Recognition dawned on her face then, and she gasped. “Jake Green? Oh my God!”

She smiled then, a dazzling but almost painful looking smile, and came around the bar to give him a hug. “When did you get here?”

He chuckled a little. “Just now, actually.” He held up a hand before she could think of a bunch of questions to ask. “It's a long story. I'll tell you about it, but I really want to know about how things are going here.”

Her smile faded a little. “Well, that's a long story too. You want to sit down? Have a drink? It's on me.”

Before he could respond, she was pushing him towards a stool and rushing behind the bar to find a glass and something to put in it. He sighed with apprehension. He was desperate to know the answers Mary could give him, and dreading completely having to hear her story.

“Here,” she said, shoving a glass in front of him with zeal.

He made no move to pick it up. He really needed to know, much as he wanted just to enjoy a drink like old times.

“Are you going to sit too?” he asked.

“Sure I can't get you anything else?” she asked in an overly cheerful voice.

“You've got something besides this?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Not much, but I've got some food I could share with you. It's not every day an old friend comes back to town.”

He shrugged too. “If you don't mind.” He sensed she might tell him more if she had something else to distract her at the same time.

She disappeared and was back quickly with a bowl of lentils and some crackers. He glanced around at the listless people clutching glasses.

“Aren't you worried your other customers will want to be served food too?”

She waved a hand absently. “Nah, they don't care. They've got what they came here for.”

She sat down on a stool she'd pulled over. He noticed the area behind the bar was a mess, piled with junk and broken furniture.

“So what do you want to know first Jake?” she asked quietly, looking down at her hands.

He looked at her carefully. It was as though neither of them wanted to begin. He forced himself to ask, “What happened to Main Street?”

She sighed. “Lots of things. The fire happened a while ago. Not long after the bombs actually. The power came on, something happened with the circuit, the library caught on fire and it spread. They couldn't get it out in time to stop it from wrecking the buildings, but nobody got hurt at least.”

Jake hadn't even noticed fire damage. “I haven't been up that end of Main yet.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “Then you were asking about the general state of disaster we've got going on over here. We've had problems. People coming here, raiding the stores and the houses nearby. You've probably seen it wherever you've been. Started right after the bombs.”

“Who was it?” asked Jake. 

Mary pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Remember Jonah Prowse? His group, sometimes. Sometimes strangers would get into town, before Gray started the border guard. One time, this group of mercenaries made it into town- they mostly wanted our supplies. Gray and his guys had a big fight with them, but they were too strong for us. It was after that Gray really cracked down.”

“So Gray's in charge now?” asked Jake.

“Well, he was. A couple of days ago, these guys from the government came in. Said they're here to secure the area. Gray's been making speeches still, but everyone knows who's really calling the shots now.”

The question he feared the most was forcing itself out of his mouth before he could hold on any longer. “How about my family? Are they okay? Have you seen them lately?”

Mary took a deep breath, finally looking him in the eye. “Jake, your dad is dead. I'm so sorry.”

He nodded, feeling the familiar sting in the back of his eye, and setting his jaw as he usually did. It was still a shock, in this strange world and in his. “What happened to him?”

“After the bombs, he got sick. It was some bug that was going around. It killed him. I would never have thought that something like that could happen, but the way things were then...”

He sighed. “How about my mom? Have you seen her?”

“I don't see her much, but she's okay. She keeps herself really busy. At the med centre.” She was looking down at her hands now.

“Eric?” he asked, sensing he was wading into painful territory.

“He's okay too,” she answered quietly.

“Have you seen him?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Sometimes, around town. He doesn't leave the med centre much either.”

Jake's brow furrowed. “And April?”

Mary looked on the verge of tears. “She's dead too Jake.”

She didn't seem to notice his lack of surprise. He kept looking at her, waiting for an explanation. When she didn't give one, he asked, “What happened? Was it because of a problem- with the med centre?”

Mary sighed with a bitter smile. “I guess so. Remember how I told you about the mercenaries? We didn't have much food or fuel- what they wanted was everything we had left at the med centre. April tried to protect her patients. She got in their way.”

Jake was reeling. His father's death hadn't come as much of a surprise, though he'd felt a pang of guilt as he realized why his father hadn't survived the virus. He had expected April might be dead too, when Mary didn't mention her, but he hadn't thought about the possibility that she hadn't died in a hospital bed, surrounded by her family and soft candlelight.

“Ravenwood killed her?”

“And three patients. And a bunch of men from border patrol.” Mary leaned her face into her hands.

Jake reached for the drink in front of him for the first time.

They sat there in silence for awhile, Jake's thoughts swirling around in his brain. His father had died, leaving only Gray to cope with the chaos. Ravenwood had left the town in shambles. There was so much to make sense of in such a little time. He thought he should start with the most straight-forward question.

“So when did Gray get to be in charge?”

Mary was hesitant, as if afraid to upset Jake further. “After your dad died. The whole town was freaking out, and your mom, and Eric, they had enough to deal with themselves. They didn't need the whole town to worry about too. Gray stepped in, and everyone was glad to have someone in charge.”

There was more to it than that. Jake knew. At that moment, the door swung open, and two men entered. Jake noticed Mary turn quickly to see who it was. The others in the room did too. Only the woman at the bar didn't move.

He recognized the men- Carl Sweeney and Allen Mocker. Carl had been a few years ahead of him in school; Allen he knew only by sight. Mary got up quickly. “I'll just go see what they want,” she said quietly.

Jake turned back to his drink, listening carefully to the hushed conversation the three of them were having. It sounded like it was about him- they wanted to talk to him and Mary was firing back her words in a tense whisper. Probably trying to explain that he'd just been delivered the news of his father and sister-in-law's deaths.

Did you forget about Rogue River?

Jake groaned.

You can insert your own guilt trip, if you insist. I just want to point out that your sister-in-law died too, and you couldn't have prevented it any more this time.

'But I could have prevented my dad,' Jake thought. 'No one else could find medicine? No one else could do anything to help?'

Your mom tried. Eric and April tried. Even Mary. Notice how guilty she's acting? She's secretly glad Eric never comes around. She feels guilty about April every time she looks at him.

'How does someone die of a fever? How could he? And how could they accept Gray so easily as their mayor, just like that? It doesn't look like he's doing such a great job.'

Ah, because the story is more complicated than that. Hang on, you can follow up on that in a minute, but right now you have to talk to these clowns.

Carl and Allen were walking over. They took seats beside him. Like the uniformed men earlier, they were pretending to be friendly, but Jake was good enough at reading people to know that they weren't going to give him a welcome-home gift basket.

“If it isn't the legendary Jake Green. What are you doing back here?” asked Carl.

“Hi guys,” said Jake, giving a curt nod. “Just catching up.”

“I hope you plan on catching up with Gray Anderson. The mayor's heard you were back in town and he'd like to meet with you.” Allen was being what must have been his idea of smooth.

“Does everyone that makes it back here alive get a personal invitation to Gray's?” Jake asked nonchalantly.

“I know you've been gone awhile Jake, but I'm sure you still care about this town's safety. Your family's safety,” said Carl.

“What does that mean?” he asked, more wearily than anything else.

“It means the mayor needs all the help he can get to keep us going. We need to know everything we can. We need you to do your part for the town,” Allen cut in, his voice getting louder.

Carl interrupted him. “Look, Jake, I understand you'll want to get home, see your family. Just stop in, help out. The mayor's office in town hall. I think you know where that is. We'll be expecting you.”

They stood then, and marched out. The room was quiet again. Jake motioned Mary over so he could speak quietly.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked.

“They work for Gray. I guess he wants to see you.”

He shook his head. “So I come all the way here, to this insane place, and they still want me to put helping the town before everything else?”

She was looking at him strangely.

Last time she saw you, you weren't even the hero who drove a school bus, Freddie's voice echoed in his mind.

He hastily recovered. “I've been away six years, and they want me to put the town first?”

She shrugged. “Gray's having a tough time keeping order. People are scared.” The way she said it, he could tell she wasn't particularly pleased.

“Why should they be? Seems like he's done an excellent job so far,” Jake said through gritted teeth.

“I guess everything comes at a price. People are finally following the rules. At least, here in town. And we don't have as many outsiders coming in to pick on us.”

“How did you manage that?” he asked.

She chuckled. “No 'we' about it. Gray and his little army. They do a decent job now, keeping the vultures out of town. Never mind it's still really up to each person to fend for themselves. At least people don't prey on each other anymore. Not since Gray passed a bunch of laws.”

Jake was confused. “I don't understand. Why didn't people try to have a say in how things are run here, if it's so bad? Gray wasn't even elected, was he?”

“People were scared. Like I told you, it's been fend-for-yourself for a while. Most people were tired of protecting themselves. They thought that they woudn't mind having to follow a strict set of rules if it's the alternative.”

Jake tried to remember the last time he'd seen Gray elected. It was at a time when everyone was afraid. Gray hadn't turned out to be a terrible leader, but he'd needed help. “What about everyone who isn't a Gray supporter? Why haven't they been standing up to him?”

Mary shrugged. “Who, Jake? Me? Your family? What are we going to do? I could stop serving drinks. It wouldn't change much. I know they won't stop what they're doing at the med centre.”

Jake swallowed hard. “I mean everyone else who used to stand by my dad.” He had almost mentioned everyone else that had stood by him, but remembered that he had kept different company six years ago. “Where are my friends? Jimmy, Bill, Stanley, Emily, Hea-” He caught himself just before mentioning the school teacher he met on the bus.

Mary raised her eyebrows. “Jake, I haven't seen Stanley in months, Emily probably won't be showing her face around here for years, and Jimmy and Bill work for Gray.”

Jake stared in confusion and Mary sighed wearily. Once again, they both realized there were too many things to explain at once. “Jimmy works for Gray?” asked Jake. He could imagine Bill, but not Jimmy being a proud enforcer of Gray's apparent martial law.

“Why not? He wanted to keep the town safe as much as anyone. Maybe more. He lost someone too, Jake. His son.”

Jake's breath caught. He had seen Woody Taylor a few weeks ago, walking home with his sister. “How?”

“Since the bombs, lots of people have been sick, especially the kids, especially at winter. I think you'll notice people missing if you walk around town.”

“But what about the med centre? I thought you said Eric and my Mom worked there all the time. Haven't they helped anybody?” He knew the answer of course, but it was just so difficult to imagine Jimmy burying his son.

“Jake, they lose more people than they save. They're not doctors. They don't have supplies, they don't have help. People come to them all the time, and they die all the time.”

She looked especially pained now, and guilty as she watched him ask the next question. “What are they doing there then, if it's so pointless?”

She blinked. “April. April would have done anything for those people, and they've made it their mission to carry on in her name. I see your mom sometimes- she comes in to get some antiseptic I make. I don't know how often she leaves the centre. I don't know what else they're going to do though.” She let out a world-weary sigh and he remembered something else she'd said.

“What about Stanley? Why haven't you seen him in months?”

“Stanley?” asked a bleary voice. “You know Stanley?”

He looked over to the bar- and stopped himself from exclaiming anything when he saw the woman sitting there lift her head up to look at him. She was a different person then when he'd last seen her, but her face, her eyes, were hauntingly familiar. He nearly choked in surprise. He wasn't supposed to know her at all.

“Have you seen Stanley? Is he alright?” she asked quickly.

“No, Mimi,” said Mary, walking over to her and pushing some of Jake's forgotten crackers onto the bar in front of her. “He hasn't seen him. He just got here. Have something to eat.”

Mary was talking the way one does normally to a child, or a patient in a psych ward, but Jake thought he understood exactly the look Mimi Clark was giving him, and he understood exactly the question she had asked.

Mary came back over, speaking in hushed tones to Jake, as Mimi stared, her eyes intensely fixed on him.

“That's Mimi. She's...been having a hard time. I usually try not to mention Stanley around her.”

Jake asked, “What's wrong with her?”

Mary raised her eyebrows. “It's a long story. She worked for the I.R.S. She came here from D.C., just before the bombs. She was auditing the Richmond's, actually. After the bombs, she moved into the farmhouse, and after a while, her and Stanley got together. Weird, I know. First time I saw them here at the bar, she told him to leave her alone. I guess things changed, next thing we know, everyone's talking about how Stanley's with the tax woman. Then the bridge...” She stiffened. “The town had been making deals with New Bern for awhile, trying to fix what Ravenwood had done here. New Bern wanted a share of the salt mine. Gray wanted to keep them away. He decided to blow up the Tacoma bridge. The people out on the other side could choose: come into town, or throw themselves to the mercy of New Bern. Of course, I was pretty sure Stanley was going to do neither. Mimi crossed over, Stanley didn't. She's been here ever since.”

“Nice story Mary,” slurred Mimi from her seat, still fixing Jake with a strange gaze.

Mary leaned in to whisper. “I feel bad for her. She has nowhere else to go. She stays here. Helps me with the still. It's nice to have company though.”

“Well you're just so fun to be around, Mary,” Mimi said disdainfully. She turned to Jake again. “Who are you?”

He stepped towards her, holding out his hand. “Jake Green.” She grasped it for a second and let go.

“You knew Stanley?” she asked.

He nodded. He wished he could give her something, anything. He remembered, a month ago, dancing with her at a makeshift engagement party they'd held at Bailey's. She had laughed, throwing her head back in the air as they'd purposely knocked into Stanley and Bonnie. Now, she was listless and slumped in her seat, boring into him with those eyes.

“He was my best friend,” he said.

Her features softened for a moment, and she said, “Mine too.” She blinked rapidly, then her face hardened again. “If you see him, tell him to go to hell.”

She leaned over and sank her head into her arms again.

Jake and Mary glanced at each other in silence for several minutes, not able to shake off the awkward feeling now strangling the air around them. “I guess maybe I should get out there and see what's left of the town,” said Jake. As he stood and prepared to leave, Mary retrieved a bottle from behind the counter.

“Antiseptic. Can you give it to them?” she asked. He nodded with a grim smile. “Say hi for me.”

He gave her another awkward hug. “Thanks. I will. And thanks for everything.”

She nodded solemnly, and turned to go back to her work.

Eager to leave behind the smell of drowning sorrows and the sight of those slouched against the filthy bar, he quickly opened the door and stepped outside.

 He walked out into the bright, late morning sun. He paused a moment before beginning to walk along the street.

You're not getting tired of the show yet are you?

'You talk like this is just a game. I was going to be the best man at their wedding, Freddie.'

I know, I saw your friend asking you. Brought tears to my eyes, man.

'Next you're going to give me some speech about how you're always watching?' Jake chuckled again.

Not right now, amigo. First I gotta tell you you're going the wrong way. Remember your invite? You've got a meeting with the new mayor.

Jake made a face. He'd wanted to find his mother and brother right away, and had forgotten completely about Gray. 'Does it really matter? It's not like it'll have any long-term effect if I skip that part right?'

Wrong. I'm the tour guide. Town hall is our next stop.

Jake sent an irritated grimace to his guide, but turned around and headed for town hall. Like all the other buildings, it had obviously seen its share of damage. He went through the front door, surprised at how easily he could enter without being noticed. Not like New Bern, he thought as he walked up to the main desk.

Gray's patrolmen are all over town. They stop the bad guys before they even get near here. Didn't you get what the bartender was telling you?

“Hi. I'm here to see Gray Anderson.”

Skylar Stevens sat at a reception desk. She barely looked up. “Who should I say is here?”

“Jake Green.”

She looked up, no doubt tuned in to his last name. She of course didn't know him to talk to, but seemed to recognize him from a distant memory. “Of course. Follow me.”

She gave a small smile before getting up from behind the desk, and leading him down the hall. He glanced around at the walls as they got closer to the familiar office he'd visited so often in his life.

She motioned for him to wait, and knocked on the door, going in briefly before coming out to invite him to enter.

He stepped towards the door with some apprehension. Though at his last encounter with Gray he'd been very happy to see him, the things he'd heard from Mary made him feel less inclined to greet this Gray with the same enthusiasm.

Inside, Gray had been sitting at a desk, but he got up quickly to shake hands with Jake. He was, in fact, very friendly.

“So glad you could make it. So glad to hear you're home safe! Your family must be thrilled.” He was almost giddy.

“Wouldn't know. Haven't seen them yet,” Jake said darkly. Gray paused for a moment, and adopted a slightly more serious tone.

“Well, thanks for stopping in here first. I'll let you get to them as soon as possible.” He gestured to a chair, and Jake sat, never breaking eye contact with the man who had taken his father's place. “You were dying to speak with me?” he asked in as neutral a tone as he could manage.

“We've made it a policy to chat with all new-comers, whether they're refugees from somewhere else or former citizens. We've got to know who we're dealing with. Of course, in your case, I admit it's a bit different. Have you spoken to anyone else since you've arrived?”

Jake was fairly certain Gray already knew the answer, but played along. “I saw Mary at Bailey's. She filled me in on some things.”

Gray spoke carefully. “Did she tell you about...”

“My father?” asked Jake, almost enjoying the obvious signs of discomfort Gray was showing. “She did. Told me about April too.”

“Look, Jake, I want you to know how sorry I am, for both your losses. We all lost two people that meant a great deal to this town.” Gray was offering his best look of sympathy.

“I hear you lost more than that. I hear you lost part of the town. Everything past the Tacoma bridge.” He directed a pointed look across the Mayor's desk.

Gray squirmed. “Yes. Things have been rough here, and some unfortunate consequences have been the result. I'm sure Mary Bailey told you what things were like before we blew up the bridge. We were losing a lot more than a few farms. Every other week, we were being picked clean of everything we had. Mercenaries, Jonah Prowse, strangers. We had to do something to keep these people out.” He was getting more impassioned as he spoke.

“How is the town surviving without those farms? What is everyone eating?” asked Jake.

“We've got other farms. We're doing what we can. If you can think of a better way to do things, you can go back in time and fix them. You can bring back the bridge while you're at it.” He glared at Jake.

Jake was silent, glowering at Gray. He had seen a different way, he had seen these people happier, safer, and freer. He couldn't say so.

“Right, it doesn't matter now. We've already gone to hell, Jake, it's already here. All I can do is make the best of a bad situation.” He looked genuinely sad now. Jake knew that look well. He had seen it the day New Bern had sent the mortars into Main Street. He knew Gray had a heart and a conscience, but he thought again of Mimi at the bar, and his family and friends that weren't even frequenting Bailey's anymore, and found it hard to have sympathy for Gray.

“Okay, I get it. You did what you could. I really want to get going home so...”

“Jake, I wanted to talk to you for another reason. I need you to tell me what you know.”

“Excuse me?”

Gray began making his plea. “You're gonna have to tell me. What's going on out there? We're in the dark here and we need to find out everything we can. Where did you come from? What did you hear out there?”

Jake was confused. “I thought there was a big army presence in town now. Can't they tell you everything you need to know?”

Gray sighed. “You'd think. They're not telling us much. They just arrived a few days ago, flew in in helicopters. They said they're here to secure the area. No news about the outside, just that they're starting to rebuild. So far, we haven't seen any of it. I don't know what they want. We can't protect the salt mine, if that's what they want.”

“They're not here to help you?” whispered Jake. As suspicious he had been of the A.S.A government's arrival in his own present-day Jericho, they had at least made some effort to show they were helping the town.

“Not so much as I've heard. There was a unit of marines that came to town a long time back and they promised they would put us on a list for aid. Never heard from them again. This government though- haven't been much help at all. Maybe they think we're beyond help.” He looked at Jake, a silent desperation in his eyes.

Jake sighed. 'Some things are the same, no matter when I come home. What should I tell him? What could possibly help them?'

Not much. They're sitting ducks here, no matter how much information you can give them. Does that make a difference to you?

'I don't know. I don't think things could get much worse for them though.'

You haven't even seen the worst yet. Aren't you getting curious? Let's just tell Gray something and head out.

Jake gave Gray a brief story, inspired by Freddie's coaching, about a hard winter in the desert, and a dangerous trip across New Mexico. He didn't know much, he told Gray; most people out there didn't. You could hear twenty different pieces of conflicting information in one week. He didn't mention Cheyenne or Texas.

Finally, he was excused by a thoroughly disappointed Gray. As he walked down the hall again, and turned the corner around the reception desk, he was startled once more by his name.

“Jake!” He turned to look at Skylar. She had stood up when she saw him coming.

“Yeah?” he asked, wondering if he had ever spoken to little Skylar Stevens before he had left Jericho those years before. Probably not.

“You probably don't remember me. Skylar Stevens. My dad owned the salt mine.”

He nodded, wondering where this was going, why her eyes had taken on a sparkle.

“I'm really sorry about your father. He was a good man. A great mayor.”

He was somewhat taken aback. In all his recent dealings with Skylar, she had never expressed anything of the sort.

 “If there's anything I can do, if there's anything you need, just let me know. I'm here every day.”

He sensed there was something more to the excitement evident on her face when he arrived, but as he was eager to get outside and find his family, he just smiled and thanked her.

He strode quickly out of town hall, and as he was crossing the lawn, he noticed two familiar faces. Jimmy and Bill stood, at the side of town hall, inspecting the wall. Quickly, he walked over to his old friends.

They were staring at a big slogan scrawled across the brick. “Johnston Green for Mayor”.

They were discussing it as he approached, and both jumped when he said, “Deputy Taylor, Deputy Kholer- How long has it been?”

They were the first people he'd met so far to accurately resemble someone looking at a ghost. Bill's eyes looked like they'd pop out of his head. Jimmy had gone white.

“No welcome home?” asked Jake, almost sarcastically, though remembering what he'd heard about Jimmy, he couldn't bring himself to tease him much.

Bill was the first to recover. “I can't believe it. Where the hell did you come from?” He gave Jake a hearty handshake. Jimmy also reached out a hand, a more solemn look on his face. “Welcome back Jake.”

“So where did you come from? We thought you were gone for sure,” Bill sputtered.

“No, just taking my time, enjoying the warmer weather.” He tried to joke, but both men seemed distracted. He followed their gaze back to the wall.

“What's with the graffitti? I would have thought Gray would have ordered someone to wash that off by now,” Jake asked with a smirk.

“He hasn't seen it yet,” said Bill grimly.

At Jake's quizzical look, Jimmy added “It's new. First time we saw it was this morning.”

“What...why?” asked Jake.

Jimmy shrugged. “Someone's been doing it for months- writing things on walls. Sometimes stuff about your father, sometimes stuff about Gray- no compliments for him. He gets upset every time. It's usually just written in charcoal or something that comes off easily, but Gray is always furious. He always says he'll catch whoever it is.”

“Like someone writing on the wall is the worst thing we have to deal with around here,” said Bill. He gave a scornful laugh.

Jimmy looked grim. “He is really serious about it. He dragged Mary in for questioning when someone drew a picture of him on her window. He was so mad she couldn't say she'd seen who it was. Same with the church- he questioned everyone who was working there. Even Reverand Matthews. Then he even wanted us to stake out Main Street, since that seems to be the culprit's favourite place to hit.” Jimmy took a breath.

“Why does he care? I thought people were starving and freezing and killing each other?” asked Jake.

“Yeah, and Gray tries to keep them in order while they do. Doesn't want anyone questioning the little hold we have left on this town. Whoever it is, they're doing a pretty good job. We've got patrols everywhere at night. Haven't caught him once.” Bill sighed. “I've seen people doing unbelievable things, but I've never seen the graffiti writer at work.”

Jake almost chuckled. If only someone writing on walls really was the biggest problem. “I'll leave you guys to deal with this then. I've got to get home.”

“Right. Take care of yourself Jake,” said Jimmy, Bill echoing him.

As he walked north towards the med centre, Jake let himself take in all the horrible scenes around him. It was a worse sight than the one that had greeted him when he'd come back into town after the battle at Richmond Ranch. As he turned onto Fifth Street, the hollowed shell of the library came into view. Almost nothing was left of it, or the buildings around it. It left a gaping hole, leaving space to see the streets behind it. The houses on those streets were just as dilapidated as the ones around him.

'No one's trying to rebuild it now.'

There's not many left to rebuild it. There's only one thing the government wants with this town, and only a few things anyone else wants from it. Everything past the bridge belongs to New Bern now, and the salt mine is Gray's.

'But why are they all sitting back and taking it? The people I know would never let this happen to them.'

A lot of things have happened, and many are simply beyond all of this now Jake.

Freddie had lost all traces of his usual joking manner. It sent a chill through Jake to hear.

 Jake arrived at the med centre. It looked similar to the rest of the town. A rusted ambulance with no doors stood out conspicuously near the side entrance, the sign above the clinic doors was broken, and he narrowly avoided stepping in what seemed to be vomit as he walked across the sidewalk. The building was noticeably without power. Though it was day time, his eyes had to adjust as he went inside.

It was quieter than it had been on all of his previous visits. People lay in beds, or sat in chairs, coughing, and sometimes moaning. He asked a tired looking boy, who couldn't have been more than fifteen, where he could find Gail or Eric Green. He pointed him towards one of the patient rooms.

Jake knocked on the closed door, terrified and desperately needing to see. He heard his mother's voice.

“Just a minute.”

“Mom, I'm home.”

There was silence for a moment, then her footsteps. The door flung open and Gail Green appeared, her whole face wild. Her eyes were huge as she took in the sight of her son standing a few feet away.

“Jake? It's you!” She rushed forward, and grabbed him, pulling him into her arms. They stood there for a long time, Gail holding her son to her. She finally pulled back so she could look at him.

“I knew you were out there, somewhere. I knew it. All this time.” She beamed at her eldest son, and he couldn't help but grin back.

“Well, here I am. In the flesh.”

She gave him a brief scolding look, then smiled again. “Don't make jokes. Jake, I've dreamed this before. I always woke up and wondered where you were.”

“I know Mom,” he said huskily, afraid his own eyes might soon become as teary as hers.

“Look at you,” she said, her eyes surveying the damage she was imagining he had sustained in the far away place he'd been.

He was thinking the same thing about her. She looked as worn out and tired as he'd ever seen her. Her clothes, her hair, everything but her smile at seeing him had faded.

“Let's go tell your brother the good news,” she said, grabbing his hand. In that moment, he could see her the way she used to be, before everything around them had crumbled. She pulled him down the hall, towards April's old office. There, lying asleep on the couch, was Eric. His hair was scraggly and unkempt and it looked as though he hadn't shaved in weeks.

Gail bent over her younger son, gently shaking his arm. “Eric, honey, wake up. See who just got here.”

Eric moaned, pulled away, and pulled the hospital blanket tighter, but as his mother shook him some more, he startled awake.

“What? What is it?” He looked around quickly, then slowly took in his mother's beaming face.

“Over here, Eric,” said Jake with a small smile.

Eric stared at him, an almost horrified look on his face. Remembering what his mother had said about awakening, Jake almost felt sorry for his brother. “I'm really here. No dream.”

“Jake?” he asked groggily. He sat up, slowly processing what was going on. “Jake?” he asked again. Jake just nodded patiently.

Eric bolted out of bed, rushed over, and grabbed his brother in a hug. Jake felt the air being squeezed out of his lungs.

“How did you get here? When did you get here? What have you been doing all this time?” He was firing a million questions at once, but his voice was getting suspiciously shaky.

His mother took charge. “It's okay, Eric. We have lots of time to talk about that. First we should get Jake some food, and he must be tired-”

“Mom, I'm fine. I already ate. Stopped in at Bailey's.” He held out the jar of antiseptic. “Mary sends her regards.”

He carefully eyed Eric, who swallowed uncomfortably. His mother didn't notice, and asked “How is Mary? And how is Mimi doing?”

Jake gave a non-committal shrug. He didn't like the worry deeply etched around his mother's eyes. “They're okay. Mary told me about how things have been.”

Gail raised her eyebrows slightly. “You know?”

He nodded. She was silent a moment, her face moving in slow motion as if she were wrestling to keep something at bay. “Well, we'll have time to talk about that later too. I want to get you some clean clothes. We've got showers, but I'm afraid they're cold. I can't imagine you got much food at that bar, not that we have much either, but I'm sure I can-”

Jake took her hands in his, interrupting again. “I'm fine, Mom. I'm just glad to be back. What I want is to know everyone's okay. Why don't we go home? We can talk.”

Gail looked flustered. “We can't leave here. We've got patients.”

He was surprised. His mother cared greatly about the people in their town, but she almost always put family first. Especially when they came back from the dead.

“Jake, how about I get you some fresh clothes?” asked Eric. “Come on.”

Jake almost rolled his eyes- he'd washed these clothes just the day before yesterday. They were, of course, accepting the idea that he'd been on a long trip. The urgency in Eric's less than subtle hint made him follow him.

“Why can't we go home? I've been gone a long time and I want to see it.” He looked to Eric, not challenging him, only wanting the information.

“We don't go home, Jake. This is where we have to be now, and this is where we stay. You're right, you have been gone a long time.” Jake had wondered if the old conflicts he and his brother had tried to put to rest would surface again here, but Eric didn't seem resentful as much as weary.

“I heard what happened here- to April. I'm sorry.” He tried to convey how genuine his feelings were.

Eric was staring towards the wall, but it was as though he were looking far away. “It killed her. Having to watch them come here, suffer, die. She did everything she could, but they died just the same. You know, when a rainstorm came from Denver, right after the bombs, they found out the fallout shelter here in the clinic was no good. We couldn't fit everyone in the other one, at town hall, and it was a lot of her patients that got left here. She stayed. I begged her to come, but she stayed with them. It turned out the rain wasn't radioactive- no one died because of it. But at the time...”

“So the others, the people you couldn't fit in the shelter, they just stayed at the med centre?” Jake remembered well the chaos that had pervaded the town that day, as they'd scrambled to make everyone safe.

“Yeah,” said Eric, wincing. “I'd say that was the beginning of the end for Dad. He was sick too. Couldn't take charge of the situation. Gray tried- he wasn't much help. Things were crazy already, because there was a missing school bus. The sheriff and his men went looking for it, and ended up missing themselves. Total chaos.”

“What happened? What did Dad do about the bus?”

Eric took what looked like a painful breath. “It was a tough decision to make- get everyone we could sheltered from the fallout, and hope for the best with the bus, or send people looking, knowing it could lead to their deaths? There was this crowd gathered outside, and they got all riled up. The parents waited it out, hoping for news from the sheriff. Then, the rain was coming. The parents, of course, decided they couldn't leave their children out there. It looked like they were all going to go, but when they split up to get ready, some of them were talked out of it. They should make themselves safe, and hope their children might be finding shelter somewhere too. Better chance of reuniting. So some parents went, others stayed.”

“Did they find the bus?” Jake asked, not liking the tone Eric's voice had taken.

“Not for two days. The parents who went out sat in the cars during the rain, terrified they were dying of radiation poisoning and hoping their children were somewhere else.”

“So what happened? To the bus, I mean,” asked Jake.

“They'd hit a deer. Bus driver died.”

Jake took a shaky breath. Of all the events he'd known would change, this was one he hadn't wanted to think about. “They survived the rain, though? It wasn't radioactive?”

“Yeah, the rain was alright. Not all of them survived though.” Eric paused. Part of Jake wanted to tell him it was alright not to finish. He knew he couldn't. Eric resumed. “One of the kids died in the crash. After the crash, April thought. Neck injury. Two of the kids went for help. We never found them. Another kid was dead, with a head injury. We're not sure, but we think he tried to stand up to some criminals. See, there was a crashed prison bus out there too. We think the prisoners gained control after the accident, and one of them killed the sheriff and two deputies. We don't know how many, but some of them found the school bus. They might have just wanted to get out of the rain, but something happened. Dangerous looking men with weapons come on your bus, what are you going to think? We tried to question the kids, find out exactly what went on, but none of them wanted to talk, and their parents were so furious, most refused to let us question them. Can't say I blame them.”

Jake felt his own chest being crushed. This was the worst thing he could imagine. Stacy was dead. Not just her, others. Other kids who had been alive, talking loudly, helping him put together straws from their lunchboxes. Those two from the road- the kid who asked if he was a soldier. Gone forever.

He was even more afraid to ask the next question, and he tried to keep the waver out of his voice. “What about their teacher? Where was the teacher in all this?”

Eric spoke carefully. “They found her just outside the bus. She was beat up pretty bad. I guess she was standing when the bus crashed, because she broke her leg. She wouldn't talk about it either. We think she tried to protect the kids from the prisoners- and she got them to move to the back. She couldn't move herself, couldn't even climb back in the bus during the rain. I had to tell her we couldn't find the kids- the ones she sent for help. Next to April, and Dad, that was one of the worst moments...”

Eric kept talking, about the early days after the bomb, how people had erupted in anger and despair after the bus and the rain, the fires and the attacks from intruders. Jake was lost in his own terrors. That night on the bus had seemed a blur lately, something simple and straightforward from another time, but right now he could remember each of their faces, clear as day. The children's shouts that had pulled him out of his own world, alerted him to the others that needed him. The many scared sets of eyes in the rows of seats. How terrible it had been to see another little girl dying in front of him. That thing that had kicked in inside of him, that had forced him out of his own mind and into the situation, doing what needed to be done. How it had been to see her eyes open again. The most beautiful sight in his life.

Driving back, fearing something would go wrong, but hoping they'd be safe soon. And he remembered Heather, wincing and teaching the kids left from right.

He thought about the criminals again. The two from Richmond Ranch. He had never thought about others, out there on the road that night, making their way over to a second crashed bus. He even thought for a moment about what had might have happened if he had found the prison bus instead of the school bus.

He remembered the moment he'd climbed aboard the bus, their terrified eyes. Had they looked this way at the escaped prisoners too?

He felt his eyes burning, dangerously close to spilling over. It was sudden, unexpected, and he wiped at his face furiously. He felt a hand on his arm.

“I know, Jake.” Eric was comforting him. Eric had been talking about Johnston Green's last days as mayor. He had been telling him how it had been when the town turned against their father, and how different it had been with him gone. He thought Jake was crying for their dead father, something Jake had done many times already. Jake was glad his brother couldn't tell his mind was actually on the school bus.

They sat for a few moments, Jake letting the tears slide down his face and Eric awkwardly patting his arm. Jake took a shaky breath, and said in a husky voice “Do you mind getting me those clothes now?”

Eric nodded, saying “Sure,” softly and disappearing down the hallway.

Jake sat holding his head in his hands. I can't stay here. I can't keep thinking about them, dead. I just saw some of them the day before Bonnie died. They were planting flowers outside the library.

I know, this is rough Jake, but you're not done. You still have to see the ones that lived.

Before Jake could silently ask his guide what he meant, Eric was back with the clothes. Jake took them silently and went to change in a vacant room. Eric had given him jeans and a t-shirt. His own clothes. 'Eric must be keeping his clothes here too.'

He does. Have you realized yet he lives here?

'What about our house? All our stuff? They just gave it up?'

Your mom stops in, when she makes her errands, once a week.

“Eric, does Mom ever get out of here?” he asked as he came back into the hall. Better to voice a concern about their mother than about Eric himself.

“Yeah, she does some stuff around town, usually once every week or two. Even after everything that's happened, she still tries to help people.”

“Can't we stop in at home then? I can go with her, we can get her errands done.”

Eric shook his head. “She won't leave today. We have a bunch of people here with chest coughs.”

He said it as if it were a warning, and Jake would be better to let it rest. “Well, maybe I could do them for her,” Jake supplied. “I could stop in at home, and get anything you need.”

“I don't know if she'll let you run her errands. She likes to have a handle on everything she normally looks after. You won't know what to do.”

“Yes I will,” he protested. “I know this town as well as you. I'm sure it's not any more difficult to navigate than the places I've seen.”

“What are you boys arguing about? You've only been together five minutes.” Gail had opened the door and was frowning at them, but she had a twinkle in her eye that showed them she was joking. It was like a moment from the past, bringing her out of her real life for just a second.

“Nothing Mom,” said Eric, throwing a glance at Jake.

“I want to see the house,” said Jake, gently but firmly.

She smirked. “Is that all? Well, go on ahead. Back door's unlocked.”

He looked at her, puzzled. She was being the most cheerful he'd seen her since he had arrived in this bizarre place. “Mom, are you okay? I can stay here with you for awhile.” He reached out to her.

“No, Jake, you should go see the house. Get yourself set up there. You don't have to stay here with us, I know volunteering isn't your thing. I just want to see you again. You can come back here when you're done. You will, right?” Her eyes were getting suspiciously shiny again.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, reaching out to hug her.

A few minutes later, Jake was walking towards the front door, surrounded on either side by his mother and brother. Gail hugged her long lost son again, holding on so long Jake thought they might be standing there for the rest of the day. Finally, he whispered “I'll be back again, Mom.”

“Come for dinner. We'll have something together,” she said. She looked into his eyes again, as if trying to memorize his face. “Oh, you can take the soup to Heather.” She rushed inside, leaving Jake to stare at Eric.

It was the first time he'd heard her name. He tried to sound casual as he asked “Who's that?”

Eric looked grim again. “Remember the teacher I told you about? From the school bus accident? She was one of April's causes. Mom's taken her on now. Leaves food outside her house every now and then, tries to make sure she's still alive. If you take the food, be careful. Just leave it out front.”

Before Jake could rearrange his face enough to ask casually why he'd have to be careful, Gail was outside again, giving him a container. “I made soup today; we had a little extra. And can you drop these jars off at Bailey's?” She handed him a bag to put everything in, quickly explaining directions to the house.

“Okay,” said Jake, a little flustered, balancing the soup as he loaded the jars into the bag.

“Maybe I will come by the house later,” said his mother, casually, though not lost on her sons. “If you're all set up, maybe we could all have dinner there.”

“Sounds good, Mom,” he said, quickly kissing her on the cheek and hugging Eric again. He went quickly, before the look on his mother's face made him want to stay. He could barely stand to leave them there, looking so sad as they watched him go, but he had a new worry now that he had to investigate.

He felt his pace quickening as he traveled once again down the streets towards the south end of town. He, of course, already knew where the house was, and he took side streets this time, so as to avoid seeing the damaged businesses on Main Street.

You're stressed.

'Just noticing now, huh?'

You're more stressed now. Worried about what you might find at the teacher's house?

'Why do you always have to be so- what did he mean, one of April's causes?'

Jake stopped quickly to fix his shoe. The laces were all broken and he'd been tying them in knots the best he could.

April had a lot of causes. Most of them died. Your teacher friend was more of a long term project. She was one of the many people taken to the med centre after the rain. One of the only ones who was there all alone. No family. April tried to get her to talk about everything- wasn't very successful, but of course, she was busy with more critical patients. A few weeks later, most of those patients were dead. The teacher wasn't. April stopped by her place, now and then, trying to help her. Your mom carried on after she died.

Jake sighed. He was getting the feeling that he wouldn't understand, or things wouldn't be explained, until he saw what had become of his fellow survivor.

He turned the corner onto her street. He was still walking quickly but he slowed as he came toward the house. He was thinking of the bus, finding the bus driver, turning around to see who had spoken.

Not afraid now, are you?

'Are you kidding?' Jake chuckled, but he himself noticed the slightly nervous edge in his laughter.

Her house had been pretty run-down last he'd seen it. The time it had spent vacant while she was in New Bern hadn't been kind to it. This house was worse. The windows were boarded up with planks of wood, a chunk was missing out of one of the walls, and as he walked across the small lawn, he noticed scraps of machine parts littered around the side of the house. He felt slightly queasy- he wasn't sure why- as he reached for the plastic container of soup. He placed it on the doorstep, feeling a little silly as he did so. He reached up his hand to knock on the door.

Hey, buddy, what are you doing?

'Knocking.' He leaned in to try and peer through the cracked glass window, but couldn't see anything but darkness.

Didn't you hear your brother? Deliver to the door and leave.

'I am delivering it. I'm making sure she gets it.'

She doesn't know you.

'She knows my mom. I'll introduce myself.'

Not a good idea, man.

Jake gave a sound of frustration. 'I can't leave, I have to see...'

Despite further protestations from his long dead friend, he reached up and knocked on the battered wooden door.

There was silence.

He knocked again, this time more loudly. He couldn't explain, even to himself, but the more he waited in the silence, the more agitated he felt.

Alright, you knocked, our girl didn't answer, let's go back to the bar.

Jake shook his head, knocking again, and shouting “Heather! Heather Lisinski!”

There was a thud and a scrambling noise from the other side of the door. Sudden movement in the small window caught his eye, and he realized that someone on the other side was pointing a gun through the hole in the glass.

“Get out of here, or I'll shoot!”

Jake was frozen and speechless. He stared at the strange sight in front of him.

“Did you hear me? Go away!” Her voice was hoarse, heavy, but he knew it was her.

“I mean it! I don't have anything worth taking, and I'll shoot you if you come closer.”

He snapped out of his momentary inertia to hold up his hands. “Heather, I'm not here to hurt you.”

 “What did you say? How do you know my name?” She shouted.

“I'm- I'm Gail Green's son,” he sputtered.

There was silence for a moment. He took it as a sign to continue.

“My mom is Gail Green. She sent me to bring you this.” He held up the soup. “I- She just wanted to know you're okay. Will you please open the door?”

There was silence again from the other side. Then another scrambling sound, presumably as she climbed down from the chair upon which she'd been standing. After a few seconds, the door creaked slowly open.

Jake took a sharp breath in as he took in the sight of her, standing there on the other side, fixing him with a look of hostility he'd never seen on her before. Her eyes had dark circles, she was thinner then he'd ever seen, and so pale. She was also still pointing the gun at him.

“If you're Gail's son, how come I've never seen you before?”

“I was away when the bombs went off. It took me a while to get home.” He held his hands up still, barely breathing.

“I've lived here for years. How come I never saw you before the bombs?”

“I've been away for a long time. Would you please stop pointing that at me?”

She still held it, and he could see the fear behind the warning look she was still giving him.

“Is that even loaded?” he asked, trying to sound confident.

She sighed then, reaching for a bat he hadn't noticed leaning against the wall. “It's not, but the last person who tried to break in got a broken nose.” She dropped the gun and held the bat out in front of her, ready to swing it, but he noticed her hands shaking slightly.

“It's okay,” he said, holding his jacket open so that she could see he was unarmed. “I really just came to give this to you. I think it's squash.” He pointed again to the container of soup, which he'd dropped on the ground. He watched now as she looked from the soup to him, her wide eyes trying to figure him out.

“You knew my sister-in-law, right? April Green? I was the best man at her wedding.”

Heather was still clenching the bat in her fists, but she asked softly “You're the older one? The one who was missing?”

He nodded, venturing just a hint of a smile. “Yeah, that's me.”

“Where did you come from?” she asked.

“Vegas. I spent time at different refugee camps.” Her grip on the bat seemed to lessen just a tiny bit.

“Pretty bad out there, right?” she asked, her mouth forming a small smile but her eyes still dead serious.

He nodded grimly. “How about here?”

She laughed, the kind of laugh that sent chills up his spine. “Same. Same as anywhere, I'm sure.”

He made a move to step forward; she jumped slightly and moved farther back into the dark house.

“Look, my mom said she worries about you,” he said, trying to glance past her and see the state of her house. “Is there anything you need? Anything at all?”

She shook her head forcefully, clenching her jaw and saying “No, no, I'm fine.” She self-consciously reached out, grabbed the container of soup, and stepped quickly back into the house.

“You're sure?” he asked, not wanting to leave her looking at him the way she was.

“I'm fine.”

When she didn't move, or say anything else, he started stepping backwards, turning around, and crossing the lawn.

“Jake?”

He turned around.

“Thank you. And thank your mother for me, please.” With one almost forlorn glance, she shut the door.

Jake stood there for a few minutes, not willing himself to move. After an eternity, he let out a long shuddering breath. He turned and started to walk away, not noticing what direction his path would lead.

He could sense Freddie, ready to start asking him questions. Ready for him to talk about his experience. He wasn't in a mood to talk about anything.

'Don't say anything, unless you want to explain to me.'

What, Jake?

'How this happened.'

To her?

'Her, them, everyone here. Do not tell me just because I'm not here, all of this happened. I'm not that important.'

No, you're not. No one is.

'Then why?' He felt on the verge of tears again. 'I've seen her go through fire, war, near-execution, and she's always strong. She always came out of her house again.'

He was thinking of Black Jack, and the windmills, the army camp she'd described to him, and the things she wouldn't say if he tried to talk about New Bern. The way she'd agreed to steal from Beck's office. The way she'd always been willing to keep trying to make things better. 'How could that one night on the bus do this?'

Well, you and I both know how one thing can change you, but you've noticed, I'm sure, that it hasn't been just one thing around here. Riots, Ravenwood, refugees, Jonah's men, disease, food shortage. They're used to it- tragedies happen here all the time. Your friend knows she's alone here- she found it out the hard way one night. She told herself she'd never let it happen again, and she hasn't let anyone get past the doorstep since.

Jake's breath caught in his throat. He tried to speak, but couldn't force out the words. He couldn't ask more questions. He tasted acid in his mouth. He could feel Freddie nudging his back, forcing him along. He took one heavy step after another, barely noticing he was moving.

Incidentally, she was telling the truth about the broken nose- good thing you managed to convince her you weren't trying to break in.

Jake trudged along angrily, not wanting to talk, listen, or think. The more he tried to ignore them, the more the memories of the bus were coming back again. They were ghosts now- the kids from the road, the kids who died on the bus, the kids who lived, and her too.

'I don't want any more of this,' he thought angrily, not knowing what he was asking.

Okay, man.

'We get to leave?'

Sorry, we're not done. I know just where we should go next.

Jake remembered then the glass jars in his bag. “Bailey's,” he said out loud.

No, not Bailey's. Someplace where what you're feeling right now will be understood perfectly.

'But I told my mom I'd-'

What are you doing Jake? You don't actually live here, you know. This is a sight-seeing trip only. You can't help it can you?

'What?'

Running errands for your mom, helping the mayor figure out what's happening, checking on the school teacher...

'So?'

You can't help getting involved.

'I don't choose it, you know. I don't...'

Want to?

Jake was silent. He didn't want to know the answer.

Yes, where we're going you will be in good company.

'Well, you're the guide. Point the way.'

Heh-heh. We're almost there.

It hadn't seemed like anything had changed, but Jake was now far away from Heather's house, past all the houses and buildings. Past the river, if he remembered correctly.

He was silent. Once again, all he could do was stare at the sight that met his eyes.

 Jake had been trudging along angrily a moment before, trying to rid his mind of the painful visions of everything that had happened to each passenger on the school bus since he hadn't saved them. He had been trudging along Fourteenth Street. Now, he could only stare in amazement as he stood in the middle of a desolate field, far from Heather's house or any of the others that had surrounded him seconds before.

“Are we...?”

Past the ruins of the Tacoma bridge, in the heart of Jericho's former farmland, now the greater town of New Bern.

“Should I even ask?”

I have my ways. Coming up on your right, you will see the Richmond Ranch, on the site of the Richmond Farm, once the biggest farm in Jericho.

Jake was still angry, and not in the mood for the travel guide speech, but the thought went out of his mind as he took in the view to his right. The Richmond's house still stood, a little beaten up but strong and sturdy. All around it were scorched, blackened fields.

“What happened here?” Jake looked out in every direction. Where the fields hadn't been burnt to the ground, they were still a mess, overrun with weeds and dirt.

Let's go find out.

Jake starting making his way towards the house. His boots sent clouds of dust and ash up into the air as he trampled the burnt plants. The house looked deserted. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Mary, and the painful encounter with Mimi. What would this version of Stanley be like?

He neared the house, and was going to climb the steps to the porch when he heard a low growling. Without any more warning, a dog came racing towards him from around the side of the house. He bolted as fast as he could, across the lawn and over to an old truck. He just made it into the cab and slammed the door as two other dogs came running over. They were all barking at once, and baring their teeth.

Jake sat in the cab, waiting to catch his breath. 'When did they get dogs?'

There was silence, or rather, no other sound but the dogs growling and barking, loudly telling him he should have stayed away.

A figure was coming from the house with another dog. He held a shotgun and marched stolidly towards him. As he came closer, he swung the shotgun so that it was pointed straight at Jake.

“No trespassers!” shouted Stanley Richmond as he pointed his gun at him. “This is private property!”

Jake groaned. It might have been funny somewhere else, some other time, to have a gun pointed at him for a second time by a friend who no longer recognized him. “Stanley!” he shouted, holding up his hands. “It's me, Jake Green!”

He was lowering the gun now, but looking at him suspiciously. The dogs were more sedate in his presence, but they were still staring Jake down. Hesitantly, Jake opened the door and climbed out of the truck. Stanley was staring at him, squinting his eyes.

“Hey Stanley. Long time no see.” He almost laughed at the surprised sputtering sound Stanley made.

“Jake Green! I can't believe it!” He grabbed Jake in one of his bear hugs. “Where've you been, man?”

“Around,” Jake said, suddenly flashing back to another conversation that had been eerily similar.

Stanley didn't question his choice of words this time. He just clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Glad to have you back, buddy. Are you on your way home? Sorry to have to tell you this, but we're cut off. The bridge is gone.”

“I know. I came from there. I just wanted to come out and check on you guys.” It sounded like a lame answer to him, and he didn't know if Stanley would buy it, but Stanley just nodded.

“Well, since you're here, why don't you come inside for a drink? Or for some food? I bet whatever they fed you back in town was nothing like what we've got. Come on, man. We'll catch up!”

He was grabbing Jake's arm, pulling him around the back of the house. Jake saw now that the field right behind the house was not damaged like the others were. There were several more dogs walking around the edges, or sitting in the shade of the one tree nearby.

“What's with the dogs, Stanley?” he asked.

“I found a bunch of them when we were hunting. Strays. I brought them here, trained them. Some of them are pretty good guards. It's hard to keep feeding them, but I don't have a lot of ammo anymore and I want to save that for hunting. They keep the random thieves away.” He motioned for Jake to step up on the porch. Jake did so, and looked out at the land once more.

“And the burnt crops? Was that to keep the other theives away?” he asked.

Stanley just nodded, his eyebrows set low like he was angry. “We had to do that to keep anyone from commandeering our land. You don't know how many different threats have come by here. Mercenaries stole our gas, New Bern wanted our land, Jonah's men even came picking around when food was scarce over there. We grow enough to feed ourselves and keep our animals alive. Anyone who tries to steal from us realizes it's not worth it.”

They went inside, and Jake noticed that almost everything looked the same. They had kept up the inside of the house very well. From the living room, he could see once more the kitchen, and the table where his father had died. Except he hadn't died here, Jake thought. He had died at home, in his own bed, of a fever.

“What do you want Jake? We've got eggs, milk, we've even got some meat. Bet they couldn't give you that in town!” Stanley seemed positively cheerful right now. Jake realized he probably didn't get to speak out loud very often. He was making up for it by talking nonstop. For a while, Jake just listened as Stanley cooked the eggs on a camping stove.

“So what does the town do now?” asked Jake, thinking of the crackers Mary had given him, and the watery soup he'd delivered to Heather.

“What do you mean?” he asked, grabbing plates and putting them down noisily.

“You have the biggest farm. How are they still eating if they haven't been eating your crops?”

“I don't know. I guess some of them aren't. Do you want salt and pepper?”

“What happened?” asked Jake.

“As far as I heard, they kept the salt mine. That's why Gray cut us off in the first place,” Stanley said matter-of-factly.

“Why would he have done that, though? Didn't he think the town needed the farms out here?”

“They decided they didn't.” He was looking slightly less giddy than he had earlier.

“Who's they?” asked Jake, remembering Mary, his own mother and brother, and even the mysterious graffiti-artist. “Gray?”

“Listen, Jake, I know you weren't here so you didn't see, but things changed after the bombs. Jericho didn't stay that nice little town you remember from when we were kids.”

“Oh yeah? How's that?” asked Jake, wanting to challenge Stanley suddenly for reasons he couldn't quite explain.

“People were running around trying to figure out how to save themselves. We all did what we had to do.”

Stanley had grown serious again, and had a faraway look on his face.

Jake was afraid, more than he had been when he'd stepped into Bailey's or when he'd spoken with his family, to ask the next question. He had hoped, even after he'd seen the state of Heather's house, and heard about April, that he might find this house different. He still wasn't used to her being gone from it in his own world. “Stanley, where's Bonnie?”

Stanley sat in silence, staring across the room. Jake had the feeling he wasn't even looking at him.

“Where is she?”

Still looking away, he mumbled, “She's around.”

Jake glanced across the room. He couldn't see any other signs of life. “Where, Stanley?”

Stanley cleared his throat. “Here, right now. Keeping me company. Making fun of me. Like always.”

Jake shook his head. He raised his eyebrows, but his friend didn't even look. He just spoke, his eyes focused on something Jake couldn't see.

“Did they tell you at home about the fallout?”

“Yeah,” said Jake quietly. “They said there wasn't enough room in the shelter, and people were out in the rain looking for some missing kids.”

“They tell you about the prison bus?” Stanley asked darkly.

Another wave of guilt passed over Jake, still remembering his part, or lack thereof, in what happened on both buses that night. He nodded.

“Some of the escaped prisoners came here. I was out helping my cousins put away the livestock. When I got back-” he ran his hands through his hair. “I came home, and my sister was dead.”

Jake felt his throat constricting. It was all too familiar. “What happened?” he choked out.

“I found her outside the house. In the mud.”

Jake looked down himself, waiting for his friend to continue.

“Emily Sullivan was there too.”

“Emily?” asked Jake, feeling the familiar fear rising in him.

“I guess she hitched a ride with them. They were posing as cops. I still don't know why she brought them here.”

“Stanley! Was she- is she?”

“She was alive. Still is, last I heard. Didn't look good at the time. She took a shot in the side. We went to the med centre- and found a huge mess there. Everyone was afraid of fallout, 'cause of the rain, and they were holed up as best as they could in there. They didn't want us to come in. With someone with a gunshot wound, and Bonnie...Jimmy and Bill were with us, and they demanded they let us in. We set ourselves up in an isolation room and there was a big fight amongst the staff there. April came to help. She didn't want to go near the rest of us, but she stopped the bleeding. Emily lived; we all did. Turns out the rain was just rain.” He gave a wry chuckle. “But Bonnie, well. Nothing they could do. Nothing anyone could do. That's what everyone kept telling me.”

Jake wanted to know how the situation had changed from the time he'd seen it, but had to be careful. “Did you ever find out what happened? How they ended up in a shootout with the prisoners?”

Stanley sighed. “Emily had a gun, and so did each of them. One of them grabbed Bonnie so Emily wouldn't shoot, but let her go when his friend shot Emily. She said Bonnie tried to fight. Bill thought she got a shot off at one of the men. There was so much blood.” He rubbed his forehead. “Can you imagine coming home to that? And I found out later they'd heard something on the radio earlier, over at town hall, when everyone was fighting for space at the shelter. No one came out here to help them...” His voice got quieter as he spoke, until he trailed off.

“I'm so sorry,” Jake said slowly. “I- I can't imagine what it's been like.”

Stanley nodded gruffly.

After a few moments had passed, Jake said, “I still can't believe you're cut off from the town.”

“Well, they didn't need to help us, I don't think we need to help them. We've had to deal with a lot more than escaped prisoners out here. Everytime I needed help defending the farm, Gray said we didn't have enough resources, or we were too far away. Bonnie and I have held this land ourselves, so I only think it's fair that we get to enjoy it ourselves.” He put a forkful of eggs into his mouth. Jake looked down and started on his own plate, although he felt as far from hungry as a person could get.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, only the sounds of forks hitting plates being heard. Finally, Stanley asked, somewhat embarrassed, “So how is everyone? How's your family?”

“They're...doing alright, I think,” he said.

“How's Bailey's?” Stanley asked, attempting to be nonchalant.

“Not the same without the mechanical bull.” Stanley chuckled a little. Jake continued, “Mary's pretty good though. She's still got regulars. At least she's got Mimi to keep her company.”

“You saw Mimi?” asked Stanley, not bothering to pretend he wasn't interested.

“Yeah,” said Jake, feeling a little uncomfortable.

“Was she okay?” he asked.

“All things considering,” said Jake, not wanting to make his friend look any more guilty. “Mary filled me in on where she came from.”

Stanley nodded. “Did she say anything about me?”

As he took in Stanley's hopeful expression, he thought quickly. “She wanted to know if you were okay.”

Stanley put his fork down now, a different faraway look in his eyes. Jake wondered, looking at his friend, how he and Mimi had ever gotten together, after the terrible thing that had happened while Stanley was out in the rain. He remembered those early days after the bombs, how he'd spent long nights playing cards with them, and imagined what the Mimi from those days would have seen in a grief stricken Stanley, spending his mornings training guard dogs and his afternoons talking to his dead sister. Then again, he had been surprised when he'd first learned they were together in his world. He supposed anything was possible.

“Mary told me you were...you and Mimi were...”

“Yeah, it was good. While it lasted.” Stanley motioned around the empty kitchen.

Jake stared at his bare plate, trying not to picture Mimi's face the last time he'd seen her.

“So Jake,” Stanley started briskly, “What are you going to do next? Heading back home?”

“I'm going to have dinner with my Mom,” he said, “That's all I have planned for now.”

Stanley gave another ironic chuckle. “I get it, man. Well, you're welcome to come back here, if you want.”

Jake nodded. “Thanks.”

A little while later, after passing through some awkward conversation with Stanley, he was heading out the door again. Stanley gave him another hug, and then stood on the porch with his arms crossed. The look on his face reminded Jake of a little kid begging his mom to stay with him on the first day of school.

“You could come stay with us, if you want. I'm sure my mom and Eric would be glad to see you, and Mary,” volunteered Jake.

Stanley shook his head. “We're not a part of Jericho anymore Jake. You and your family are welcome here, but we do not go there.”

Jake tried not to let his concern show on his face. “Stanley, you don't have to do this all alone.”

Stanley stepped forward, his face set. “I'm not leaving my family.”

Jake made a move towards his friend, opening his mouth to say something else, but Stanley folded his arms again, stepping to the edge of the porch and looking out across his blackened fields. Jake sighed. Painful as it was, he would have to accept that the Stanley of this world wasn't going to step any farther off his porch. He said a quick goodbye, and started down the road. He glanced back at his friend, leaning against the porch railing.

“He's stuck here too, as much as Heather in her house,” he said to Freddie.

Heather leaves her house more than he leaves here, Freddie interjected. He's got everything he needs.

Jake smirked. “A security detail, a house, family. Everything you could dream of. Has anyone else seen the way he's living? Or does he really only talk to his dogs and Bonnie?”

Ah, that's something you will discover soon. But you can't blame him, can you? The only ones who haven't left him are his dogs and his dead sister. Figuratively, I mean.

They walked along in silence.

So that guy was your best friend before me, huh? Think I could beat him at arm wrestling?

“Maybe. He is a farmer though. They can get pretty strong, with all the hay-pitching and cattle-wrestling.”

Yeah, but I survived Iraq. I survived Ravenwood.

“Uh, Freddie?”

Okay, almost.

Jake was walking along the road, vaguely aware he was heading in the direction of the old bridge, enjoying the banter with his old friend, when he was suddenly shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of revving engines.

At the sound of the engines, Jake spun around and saw three motor bikes coming towards him, their riders dressed in dark colours and their faces obscured by helmets.

'Well, do I try to get away?' He was looking around quickly. Flat land surrounded him. Nowhere he could go on foot that they couldn't get to faster on the bikes.

I don't know. You were worried about the girl with the bat and the stray dogs.

He tried to run, but one of the bikes quickly raced forward, cutting off his path. He turned and a second one was coming right behind him. He attempted to bolt between them, but quick as a flash, the men had stepped off the bikes and tackled him, holding his arms. One of them grabbed his bag and started rooting through it.

“There's nothing but glass jars!” came a slightly muffled voice from behind the helmet. “Give us your jacket, buddy.”

Jake was still trying to put up a struggle, when another voice said, “Wait! Stop.”

The third thief was stepping off her bike, and he could see it was a woman before she lifted her helmet off, shaking her short blond hair. She peered at him.

“Jake Green?”

She looked surprised, but couldn't possibly have looked as shocked as he must have. “Emily?”

She motioned to the men to let him go, stepping towards him, almost seeming amused. “And I thought you were long dead,” she said.

“I'm glad you're fine too,” he said, regretting the sarcasm in his voice just a little when she shot him an angry look, and he remembered it was three against one.

“Look, could we talk?” he asked, glancing at her two companions.

She motioned the other two over. As they removed their helmets, Jake had another shock to see Sean Henthorne, a grin on his face as he half-listened to Emily, examining one of the glass jars from his bag at the same time. Emily yanked the bag away from him, and they had a hurried conversation. After eyeing him darkly, Sean and the other man, whom Jake didn't recognize, stepped back across the grass. The men got on their bikes and drove back the way they had come.

“You're going to drive back by yourself? Without your colleagues?” He tried not to sound too mocking because she was still shooting daggers with her eyes.

“Who's going to do anything to me on the way back to the compound? We own these roads. Despite what New Bern thinks.”

She was walking along the road, pushing her bike. She turned back to him. “What do you want Jake?”

“Just what I said, to talk.”

“So talk,” she said, gesturing with her hand. She looked at him for a moment, rolling her eyes, and started walking again.

He was a little reluctant to follow. He caught up to her after a few quick strides. “So you're back with Jonah? I thought you were never going to speak to him again.”

“I said I'd never speak to you again, and here we are,” she said, staring at the road ahead.

“And this is how you spend your days? Attacking travellers?”

“I don't hurt them,” she said. “And why do you care? You were never known for your strict moral compass.”

He shook his head, knowing she was right. She hadn't seen him since he'd left those years ago. She knew him just as well as Mimi and Heather did now. “I heard you had a whole life in town. Teaching at the school, living in a nice house, engaged.”

She laughed out loud. “Things changed. Where have you been?” For once it wasn't a real question. He didn't have to tell the Vegas story. “I take it you've been to town already. Why'd you come out here?”

“Catch up with my old friends,” he said. “I went to the Richmonds.”

She gave him a look, seeming almost impressed. “I see you didn't get your face torn off. Your charming smile save you once again?”

He put his hands in his pockets as he walked. “Stanley burned down the fields. I thought Jonah might have made some kind of deal with him.”

“He wasn't into making deals,” she said. “I'm talking about Stanley. He sees everyone going over there as a threat. Except you, apparently.”

“Well, can you blame him?” he asked.

She scoffed. “I helped him. I protected him from Jonah. If we really wanted anything from him, do you think dogs would've stopped us?”

“But I'm sensing something went wrong, since you're talking in past tense?”

“Yeah. I went to check on him, see if he was alright. I didn't care if Stanley wanted me there or not, I had to do something. I owed it to...One of those stupid dogs attacked me, and he didn't come and call it off. I shot it. He told me to get the hell out and never come back. Over a dog.”

Jake glanced over at her. “I heard what happened, with Bonnie. I'm sorry.”

She didn't look at him. Her expression seemed to waver for a second, but she gritted her teeth. “Yeah. I am too.”

They were walking towards the river now, and Jake could see the mess the explosion had made. Pieces of debris scattered across the ground, on either side and in the river, which still flowed weakly through the openings.

“So I guess you guys don't go over there anymore?” he asked.

She nodded, shielding her eyes as she looked across the bank. “Nothing left for us.”

She looked annoyed at his puzzled look. “We didn't do it to hurt people. Like my father says, it's survival of the fittest out here.”

“What about doing fair business? You could probably get tons of stuff out there and trade with the town.”

“Trade for what? Gray wouldn't let us near the salt mine, and then he made it illegal for anyone in town to do business with us. There'd been a partnership with Gracie Leigh for a while before she died, but she got herself in trouble with Gray. Then, while she was in jail for the night, someone killed her stockboy. Dale Turner. He was one of my students once. I would've stopped it, if I'd known. It wasn't Jonah's order.”

“Mitchell Cafferty?” asked Jake before he could stop himself.

Emily gave him a strange look as she answered “Yeah. Gray was in a fury after then. Vowed he'd protect the town no matter what the cost. He started his little patrol then.”

Trying to recover quickly from the shock that Dale was dead, Jake asked, “So he started his iron rule because of you?”

She sighed. “It wasn't our fault, it was the mercenaries. They caused a lot more damage then we ever did. Even after he blew up the bridge, we'd still go over there, more discreetly. We were the least of their concerns, believe me.”

She motioned to the area, farther down the river bank, where a small but sturdy footbridge was constructed of scraps of wood.

“But you don't anymore?”

She shook her head. “It's now illegal to associate with us in any way. To know anything about us and not give it up. We've lost some people to the Jericho patrol. I don't know if they're in jail or somewhere else. Jonah decided it wasn't worth it. Anyway, they don't have much of anything worth having these days.”

He looked at her closely, scrutinizing her windblown hair, her stiff posture, her toughened expression. He'd seen glimpses of this before, moments hinting at this person she could become. After Chris's death, when Jonah let her down, and after New Bern sent the first mortars. He never imagined this person could ever be fully realized and standing in front of him. Somehow, she'd always kept this part of herself at bay. “Why did you leave, though? What about your house, your friends, the teenagers that probably need someone to keep them in line?”

Her hardened smile broke for a second and she looked sad. “Everything's gone, Jake. There's no school anymore, my friends are dead or they send dogs chasing me, and my fiance...is gone too.”

He hadn't heard Roger mentioned yet, but he knew of one thing that his presence hadn't affected. “I heard he made it back to town, with a big group of refugees.”

She suddenly had a stricken look on her face, so much that he wished he hadn't brought it up. “I heard that too. Some of them came to the compound, joined us. Some of them wandered off. Some of them took over abandoned buildings, like Gracie's market. Roger didn't. He went back to our house. I was away on a raid, a little ways away. They told me he fell off the roof. Said he'd been drinking. I have no idea why he was sitting on the roof. Such a stupid thing to do. I didn't hear for weeks.”

Jake didn't know what to say next. It seemed like every question he asked just drew him into a more excruciating truth. “So you turned to Jonah? There was no one else that was there for you?

“They can barely take care of themselves,” she said bitterly.

“What about my mom?” he asked. Though he hadn't spoken about Emily with his mom, he couldn't imagine her failing to notice someone as desperately in need as this Emily seemed.

“She's more concerned with hopeless cases,” said Emily. “I can still take care of myself, you know.”

“I don't doubt it,” he said. “What about your friends? What about Mary Bailey?”

“She's got her bar- only thing she really cares about. Didn't I tell you, if the business owners associate with us, Gray makes life miserable for them.”

“What about Heather?” he asked, playing recklessly with facts he wasn't supposed to know. “Mom said she was your maid of honour.”

Emily's expression changed, though whether it was surprise or something else, he wasn't sure. “I did what I could for her. I kept the guys away from her place. My word's almost as good as Jonah's. She used to help me. She'd let me hide there if Gray's patrol was blocking my escape route.”

“Let me guess- things changed?” he asked.

“They caught her. Remember, no one's allowed to talk to us. Harboring us is a big no-no.”

“They caught her hiding you, but you got away?” he asked, trying not to sound too angry.

She glared at him. “I told her she could come with me. She wouldn't. Only so much I can do. I'm sure she's fine now. If they caught me, I probably wouldn't be here talking to you.”

“So we've covered everyone,” he said sarcastically. “Everyone's turned their back on you. Except Jonah.”

She laughed. Her voice rang loudly across the abandoned riverbank. “I can't believe you're saying that to me. You invented that song back in high school. Or don't you remember?”

“Yeah. We're not in high school anymore.”

She glanced around. “You think?”

“Have you heard about the government presence?” he asked.

She nodded. “We saw the helicopters. The humvees.”

He looked at her. “I'd watch it if I were you. I'm sure they won't appreciate how you guys are doing business. Maybe you should get out.”

She smiled again. “I think we've had this conversation before. Seems like it was the other way around.”

He held up his hands. “Fine. Listen to me or not. I know- you'll take care of yourself.”

She nodded. “You should do the same. Don't go walking down these roads by yourself. I can't come along on every job just to save your ass.”

With that, she turned and started walking back towards where she's left her bike. He turned back to stare across the river.

Lovely view, isn't it?

'Shut up, Freddie.' He didn't feel like engaging in anything.

I guess it's not a good time to mention that I'm glad I finally met that country girl of yours.

'Not good.'

There's something else we haven't talked about yet. The military presence.

'What about it?'

Aren't you wondering what's happening? How things are going for the A.S.A.? What's happened to bring them here?

A lightbulb went on in his head. 'Hawkins!'

 Jake raced along the side of the river, heading for the footbridge. It was set up at the place where the slope of the bank was less steep. He felt a renewed interest in discovering answers, and if anyone in town could give them to him, it was Hawkins.

Are you sure about that Buddy?

'What?' He asked. 'This is the only way across right?'

He glanced up and realized he was once again in a different location. He was surrounded by houses and knew himself to be nearing the old Thompson place.

That should answer your first question, but that's not what I was asking you. What do you think this Hawkins guy would do if a complete stranger burst in, claiming to know him?

Jake stopped, almost laughing to himself. 'Right. So what now? Do I go introduce myself as the Green's long lost son? Welcome to the neighbourhood, a year later?'

You'll know what to do. I'm just reminding you to think about it.

'Great.' Jake was starting to feel apprehensive about what he might find behind Hawkins' door if he knocked. The last three encounters he'd had with old friends had really drained him.

He didn't see any signs of life as he approached the house. That wasn't unusual. Hawkins knew how to keep a low profile. After pausing for a second, he went up and knocked on the door. There was no answer. He waited for a few minutes, and still, there was no one. He walked around the side of the house, carefully. He remembered how he had broken into the house last time. He couldn't find any obvious protective measures Hawkins might have taken. He felt something compelling him to go up to the back door, even though his logic told him it could have a far worse outcome then trespassing at the Richmonds'. He knocked on the back door, waiting and listening. Nothing. He tried the door -  it was unlocked.

He slowly entered the house, trying to be as silent as possible. Once he became accustomed to the darkness, he realized he probably didn't have to worry. The house was bare.

Some pieces of furniture remained, but most of the family's belongings seemed to be missing. It didn't seem like anyone had been there for a while. He wandered from room to room, finding only the items too big to move easily had been left behind.

'How long have they been gone?'

Hawkins took off when the army arrived. Only a couple of days ago.

'Hawkins knew they were looking for him?'

He should have. He saw that they were tracking him with his satellite feed.

Jake went down to the basement. Some of the boxes of household junk remained, but there wasn't a trace of the maps or clues of which Hawkins had been keeping track. 'He wasn't using it to watch New Bern this time, was he?'

He was looking for his family. They'd taken off on the migration trail. That's where he's gone now.

'Why would they do that? Darcy's smarter than that.'

She's smart enough to have kept them going so far. They're still alive. They left home after Sarah Mason held them hostage. They didn't have anywhere to go, so Darcy took the kids to stay at the shelter.

'I thought most of the refugees were turned away or forced to fend for themselves.'

They were allowed to stay at the shelter, but the town isn't giving away rations. They had to leave if they didn't want to starve. Darcy planned though - she brought food, and found ways to get it when they ran out. They stayed there until it was warm enough to go, and they started walking south. Hawkins spent a while trying to find them, and when he did, he went after them.

'And tipped off the government to come here in the process.'

Hey, you know his family means more to him than anything. He didn't feel the same way about this town.

Jake had climbed the stairs, and walked outside, crossing the backyard and entering the shed. There was no trace of the package in here either, just soft earth below his feet.

He took the bomb with him. Does that make you feel better?

'Well, the government won't be able to find it. But they'll tear apart the town looking for something that isn't here, won't they?'

Does that sound like something they would do?

'I don't know. These are different guys then Beck and the soldiers we have in town now.'

That's because they've been sent here on a slightly different mission. Beck was sent to you because he was good at coming into an organized place, where people were still standing on their own feet, able to fight back.

'And I never expected his men to do some of the things I've seen them do. They were at least pretending to help us. All that talk, Beck promising to put things back together, and look how that worked out. I don't know if I can tell what anyone would do anymore.'

Then this will really surprise you. Sneak around the side of the house, and make sure you're quiet.

Jake wanted to question him, but once again, followed Freddie's instructions. He kept close to the wall as he carefully stepped towards the front. As he rounded the corner, he could see a figure holding a can of spray paint, surveying the garage door. Freddie was right. He was surprised at who he saw, putting the finishing touches on her work - Skylar Stevens.

He stepped out of hiding, and she turned quickly, a surprised look on her face. She bolted, running across the driveway, but he called, “Hey! Stop!”

She stopped, turning towards him, a pained look on her face. When he was satisfied she wasn't moving, he turned to look at the garage door. It read “Mother, should I trust the government?”

“So it's you?” he asked. She nodded, her eyes wide, not stepping any closer.

“You're the one Gray's worrying about?” He almost laughed, but her face was twisted with worry so he didn't.

“Gray doesn't like it when people don't agree with him,” she said, watching to see how he would react. He didn't say anything, so she went on. “After Mayor Green died, Gray took over and started making all these rules, saying he was going to make it safe for everyone. We'd be better off. It wasn't true.”

Her eyes were bright and he remembered what had happened to Dale in this world. “He didn't protect everyone. He didn't keep everyone safe. He only cared about what was important to him - his salt mine. He told me I needed his help. I wouldn't know how to look after my part of the mine myself. He would take me in, teach me the business. Just like my parents would do if they were here.”

He recognized the look on her face. Not because it was like the looks they all wore here, though she had the same sadness in her. It was like the looks he'd seen much earlier, many days ago now. Looks he'd seen on their faces at that meeting at Bailey's, when they'd protested the new hold the ASA had on their lives.

She continued. “It took me a while to realize what he was doing. Why he got me to work for him, study all the manuals, move in with his family and babysit his bratty nephews from Topeka. He didn't want to help look after me because he was friends with my parents - he wanted to make sure he still had control over the mine. When I realized, it was too late. I saw what happened to people who disagreed with him. So I found my own way to do it - to stand up to him.”

She actually smiled now. “I wrote things about your father sometimes, because I wanted to remind people how different things used to be. Sometimes I drew pictures. I was the town's very own political cartoonist. I'd go home and sit at the dinner table with his niece and her kids, and listen to him complain about it. He still hasn't figured it out.”

Jake gave an understanding nod. “I thought you liked Main Street. Why are you all the way out here?”

“It finally got too difficult to hit Main Street without getting caught. You should've seen how it was before. I did the outside of Bailey's once while Bill Kohler was having a drink inside. I have to be more careful now.”

“Now that you've taken on a bigger target?” he asked. He was trying to hide how impressed he was. She was in way over her head, and in no way matched to stand up to the people she was targeting, but he couldn't help but enjoy speaking to the most sought-after thorn in Gray's side. It was strange that the only person who was ready to stand up to the A.S.A. in this world was Skylar Stevens.

“Someone's got to warn people,” she said, her voice getting passionate. “What do they think is happening? They aren't here to help us. We're probably going to have to stand up for ourselves or there won't be anything left for us to stand on.”

“You really think the people could take on the soldiers?” he asked.

“No. But I'd rather go down fighting,” she said, refusing to look away from his warning look. “I know you've got family here Jake. I don't have anything else to lose. I don't have anything but this.” She gestured at her work, her one defiant stand.

He couldn't argue. Dangerous and futile as her position was, her words seemed accurate enough. He could already anticipate the lecture he'd get on getting involved, but he had to try. “I know what you mean. You're right about the government. They aren't here to help. But if you need anything, my family will help you. Have you met my mom?”

“Yeah,” she said reluctantly.

“There are others. People in town you can trust. People in town you can help, if that's what you want. Think about that before you do something dangerous.”

She nodded. “When I saw it was you who came back, I knew it was a sign. Things are changing.”

He was slightly uncomfortable with the way she was smiling up at him now. He normally tried to avoid it when people called him a hero. After seeing Heather, Stanley, and Emily, and hearing what had happened to Bonnie, his family, and the kids on the bus, he really didn't want to think about it. “You're right, I have family here. I want to make sure they're safe. You can't expect me to lead some revolution, right after I finally get back to them.”

She was still smiling, an annoyingly knowing smile. “You don't like what you've seen here. There'll be a time when you can't stand it anymore. You'll see.”

He started to say something to contradict her, when a truck driving by startled him. He could see several armed men, patrolmen he guessed, riding in the back. He realized too slowly that he and Skylar were standing in front of the latest graffiti, Skylar with the spray paint still in her hands. The truck drove by them, speeding towards the centre of town. Another followed close behind.

Skylar was speechless. “Is that normal?” he asked.

“No,” she said quietly. “Something's happening.”

Everything seemed to be in slow motion suddenly. More danger was befalling his town, his friends, his family. He had come to see how it was without him, but he needed, once again, to become a part of it. He forced his mind to come into sharp focus again. He turned to Skylar, who was staring after the truck.

“Don't do anything stupid. We'll figure this out, okay? You can go find out what you can, but keep yourself safe, please.”

She looked like she would protest, but she pressed her lips into a smile. “Okay,” she breathed, and she took off running down the street.

He paused a moment, his mind racing, thinking. The late afternoon sun was waning. His mother and Eric might be home now, expecting dinner with him. He'd find them first.

 He ran the whole way to his house, his heart pounding and his lungs burning. He couldn't hear Freddie, and he didn't stop to think about it. The house looked awful - as unkempt as if no one had darkened the door in months - but he had no time to take it in. Before he could go inside, he saw Eric hurrying towards him from another direction, his mother close behind him.

“Eric! Mom! There's something happening, I don't know -”

“We heard, Jake,” Eric panted. “We were on our way here and we saw a bunch of military trucks passing. Seems like they're all going towards town hall. Mrs. Davis said she saw a bunch going in the opposite direction.”

Jake breathed heavily. “Okay, you guys go inside. Be careful. I'll come back when -”

“We're not hiding in the house, Jake,” said Gail.

He turned to her, giving her his most pleading look. “Mom, I want you to be safe.”

“And I want to make sure our friends are okay,” she said firmly.

He looked from her to Eric, and knew it would be pointless to argue with her. “Okay,” he said. “But be careful.”

The three of them set off, towards the centre of town where they could hear sirens. Gail was going as quickly as she could, but Jake was growing more and more desperate to take off running. They turned around a corner, and were met with the sight of a large presence of humvees on the street. There were armed men outside some of the houses, and frightened looking townspeople on the lawns. More trucks sped quickly by.

Jake noticed Margaret Taylor standing on one lawn, holding a terrified looking Sally to her. He turned to his mother, and saw that she had noticed. “You go to talk to the Taylors. I'm going to follow those trucks,” he said.

“Jake!” said his mother.

He turned. She wore a pained, but resolute expression. “Come back when you're done.”

He leaned in to hug her, and quickly hugged Eric too. “Look after Mom,” he whispered.

He was running again, following the side street, turning onto Main. Even more trucks gathered outside here. There were people being directed to move. As he passed Gracie's market, he saw a steady stream of thin, ragged looking people being lead outside by more soldiers. He kept going.

As he neared Bailey's, he could see Mary walking across the pavement, dragging a dazed looking Mimi behind her. The rest of her regulars had already been evicted, and were standing or sitting on the curb.

“Mary, what's happening?” he asked.

Mary looked visibly shaken. “I don't know. They said we're being evacuated. They said there wasn't room for us to bring belongings.”

“They're taking people away? Did they say where?”

“No. Some camp, I guess. Why would they do that? We're not doing well, but I'm sure we're better off here.” She glanced over her shoulder.

“I don't know. Look, are you guys okay?” he asked, glancing at Mimi, who was leaning precariously.

“We'll manage,” said Mary, attempting a brave smile.

“Just do what they say, okay? Stay safe.” He gave her as much of a reassuring look as he could muster.

She nodded, and turned back to the street, supporting Mimi as she walked.

Jake rushed next door as quickly as he could. Town hall was deserted. He raced towards the mayor's office. 'Evacuated? They're looking for the bomb, aren't they? It, and Hawkins.'

There was no answer. He burst through the door to find Gray seated, staring at the window.

“Gray, what are they doing?” he demanded.

“Evacuating the town,” said Gray in a dull voice.

“For what reason?” asked Jake, his voice rising.

“Does it matter?” was the quiet reply.

“Why are you sitting in here? Why aren't you out there, helping them? Calming down the crowd, lying about how we'll all be safe, doing something?” He could hear a hysterical note in his own voice now.

“There's nothing left to do, Jake.”

Jake looked for one more moment at the stony faced man sitting in the mayor's chair. He turned then, and ran back outside, back to the people who needed him.

It was noisier now. There were people talking, shouting, and soldiers shouting back at them. They were afraid - that he could hear, but he could hear anger too. He heard something else then, that made his blood run cold. An unfortunately familiar sound: gunshots.

He didn't have a gun, or any sensible plan, but he was running towards the sound. Nothing else had hurt him yet in this strange world - not the dogs, the road thieves, or weapons swung by fearful townspeople. He followed the direction in which he had heard the sound - down this street, around that corner - and as he came onto the street, he could already see a crowd gathering around one of the lawns. His heart lurched.

He could recognize his own mother, from this far away. She was kneeling, clinging desperately to something, sobbing. He sprinted the rest of the way.

As he came closer, he noticed the soldier standing a few feet away, still pointing his gun. Others were already crossing the doorstep, going inside to make sure no one else was hiding.

His mother was shouting now, between her sobs, as she held onto the body lying in front of her, bright red blood flowing over her hands and onto the grass. Heather's eyes were closed, her face almost peaceful, her skin especially pale under the afternoon sun.

Jake was frozen, watching in horror the elements of the scene in front of him coming into focus. Eric was standing behind his mother, shaking. The soldier was saying something, something about “...she pulled a weapon on us. We had no choice.”

“It wasn't even loaded!” said Gail, her voice cracking. She let out a long shuddering breath, and turned her tear-stained face towards the lifeless one beneath her, smoothing the dark hair away from her still eyes.

The soldier didn't stop. “Ma'am, this is an evacuation. We are under orders from the federal government to bring order here. Civilian safety is of the utmost importance, but -”

“This is order?” she cried, glaring up at him. “Do you know how many times strangers, some in uniform, have come here and hurt us?”

Jake noticed Eric shaking even more visibly. He still couldn't move himself. He could barely breathe. He could feel something boiling inside him as the soldier spoke again.

“We told her we were representing the Allied States government. It's not our fault if she didn't believe -”

“And why should she?” came Gail's voice again. “The last people who came here on government orders killed -” her voice was wavering, but suddenly became hard as she said, “You're just like them. I don't believe you either.”

 She fixed him with a calm, still glare that was so filled with hatred, Jake would have been slightly afraid if he hadn't known exactly how she felt. April, his father, Mitchell Cafferty and Ravenwood, the Marines, Gray's misguided use of power, he couldn't remember what had already been there in him and what he had seen here. His mother said nothing else, but the look she was giving the soldier said everything: What more can you take away from us?

The soldier evidently did not see all of this; as he started talking again he reached for Gail's arm. “I'm sorry you feel that way ma'am, but we're still in the middle of an evacuation, so I'm going to have to ask you to -”

With a shout, Eric had lunged at the soldier, screaming wordlessly as he wrestled him to the ground. Before Jake could make a move to help his brother, three other soldiers had appeared, and were pulling Eric up. He kept fighting, smashing, hitting and kicking anything in his reach. They subdued him forcefully.

One of them, who was obviously in charge, said, “You're being evacuated, the easy way or the hard way. You pick.”

Eric struggled again. “Fine,” said the man. Two of the soldiers started dragging Eric towards the street. Finally, after standing still so long, Jake snapped back into action. “Where are you taking him?” he demanded.

“To the transport. We're trying to get everyone moving towards your town hall, where there will be trucks waiting, in some kind of order, but some people are hell bent on making sure that doesn't happen.”

Eric fought with his captors some more. “You're lying!” he shouted. “This isn't order!”

“I suggest you come too. We wouldn't want your family to be separated,” said the one in charge.

Jake looked down at his mother, who was staring wide-eyed at her struggling son, but still holding onto Heather. He felt as torn as she was.

“We're right behind you,” he said, hoping they wouldn't do anything to his brother before he caught up with them. The two men started to pull Eric along with them. “Stay with Mom, Jake!” he could hear Eric shouting.

“You two should be coming along now too,” said the original soldier, the one Jake assumed was the shooter.

For the first time, Jake felt his own face crumbling. “What about her?” he motioned to Heather.

“We'll deal with the body,” said the man.

Jake took a shaky breath, restraining himself from reacting so he wouldn't be dragged away like Eric had been. He bent down over both forms on the ground, putting his arm gently on his mother's shoulder.

“Mom?” he said quietly. “It's okay.”

“It's not okay, Jake,” she said, quietly but firmly.

“I know,” he whispered, “But we have to go be with Eric. He needs us now.”

He saw her struggling, but knew she would get up for her sons. “Just a minute,” she snarled at the soldier, who took a step back. She gently lowered Heather's head onto the ground, smoothing her hair one last time and placing her hands together. Jake reached for his mother's hand, briefly brushing his own across Heather's arm. He wished dearly he didn't have to leave her. He forced himself not to think about it as he pulled his mother to her feet, and began walking away, his arm around her.

Neither of them said anything as they followed the rest of the people who were slowly making their way towards main street. Jake kept holding on tightly to his mother, who kept walking, looking ahead with that terrifying calm that had come over her. He himself was fighting to keep going. His mind was on Eric, fighting with a fire he could no longer surpress, and Heather, too late for anyone or anything, and the others, all of them, lost and confused and being taken away from their homes. He didn't need to imagine this - he could see them all around him.

Main Street was even more crowded than it had been before. Jake didn't know how many men were needed to make so many people move at once. He could see the trucks, being loaded up with people. Headed towards some FEMA camp, no doubt. 'What are they going to do when they don't find Hawkins? Is that why they want everyone in the same place, so they can question them, and keep them away from their houses? What Freddie, you're not going to speak to me now?'

He had no time for the reply that didn't come. He was trying to navigate a Main Street swarming with people; frantic family members calling out for each other, children crying, and some people still arguing with the soldiers.

He spotted Jimmy standing at the edge of the crowd, looking around helplessly. He steered his mother in that direction.

“Have you seen Margaret?” he asked.

Gail nodded silently. Jake was scanning the crowd for Eric. “Jimmy, what the hell happened?” He didn't know what he was asking anymore. It was all crowding together.

“They told us to help, but they took over themselves. We're being evacuated too.”

He caught a glimpse of Eric, in the midst of a crowd, still shouting loudly at the men who were holding his arms. “Mom, can you stay here with Jimmy?” he asked. She followed his gaze to Eric.

“Just stay with Jimmy, okay? I can't help Eric if I'm worried about you getting hurt too.”

She nodded slowly. He ran into the crowd, but before he could get to Eric, he was cut off by a group of people rushing forward ahead of him. Skylar was in the midst of them, shouting. He grabbed her by the arm.

“What are you doing, Skylar?” he shouted.

“I told you something was coming!” she shouted.

“I told you not to do anything stupid!” he shouted back. “Where did these people come from?”

“The church!” she yelled over the noise. “I gathered everyone I could as soon as I saw what was happening.” She started to rush forward again, he tried to pull her back.

“These guys aren't playing!” he shouted. “I've already seen them kill someone!”

Skylar just looked more incensed. “Then I won't go willingly,” she said, her face determined. “This is our home!” she screamed over the roar, as her compatriots shouted and cheered their approval.

“We won't leave without a fight!” They took up the scream, all shouting at once, pushing forward. The soldiers were trying to push back, but things were getting out of hand quickly. Someone threw a punch, someone lunged, and the soldiers struck back. Suddenly, as if a switch flipped, and it had become a full blown riot.

Totally unafraid for the first time, Jake pushed through the crowd. He dodged between his fellow townspeople and the soldiers they were fighting, aware once again of the eerie feeling of time slowing. He stepped around Bill, who had jumped into the fray. His friend was falling, his nose already bleeding as he hit the ground. He pushed between some people who were trying to get out of the middle of the fight, and found his way to Eric. One of the men who had been holding him had entered into the fight, knocking down a man with his baton. The other was fighting Eric.

Eric threw a punch at the soldier, connecting with his jaw, but the soldier responded by hitting Eric with the butt of his gun. Jake rushed forward and tackled the soldier. He fell to the ground. Jumping up, Jake grabbed Eric before he could rush into combat with another opponent.

“We have to get out, Eric!” he shouted.

“I don't care!” his brother yelled back.

“Come on, Eric,” he pleaded. “You have so much -”

“What do I have, Jake?” he screamed. “What?”

Jake couldn't speak. What did they have? The rushing around him was deafening. They were blurring together, slowing down. Suddenly, everything had stopped, and Freddie was standing beside him.

“How are you doing, buddy?” he asked quietly.

“Not so great,” said Jake, taking a huge breath. He realized, as he stood there panting, that they were still there, all around him, frozen like a film frame. He looked around at his friends, his family, his neighbours, his people, engaged in a losing fight with the armed men.

“Don't you just wish you could harness all that fighting spirit?” asked Freddie.

Jake glowered at his friend. “What do you mean?”

“Your friends who will defend themselves and their homes, to the bitter end. Your brother, not standing to see those he loves hurt, your mother, standing up to the people who take away from her.”

He leaned around, staring at the people frozen in the bizarre tableau. Bill was on the ground, holding his face. He could see Skylar, her whole face seeming to be in motion, though nothing moved. Two soldiers had grabbed a hold of her, another had raised his gun and was pointing it at her. Jimmy was on the edge of the crowd, running towards his friends. His mother was on the edge too, searching for her sons, tears still streaming down her face. He could see Mary, amidst a group of people pushing towards the soldiers, her arms raised to stay above the sea. He looked, but he couldn't see Mimi anywhere. He saw, at the edge of the crowd, a group of soldiers readying the tear gas for the tangled mass of people.

He sighed. “This is just like-”

“Just like what you were afraid would happen?” asked Freddie.

 Jake held his hands to his head. “What the hell are they doing?”

Freddie glanced at him calmly. “The question is: what are you going to do, Jake?”

They still didn't move, but he felt like he could hear them, their thoughts, their fears, one pulsing cry.

He looked to Eric again. His forehead had a gash in it, his body was twisting around as he searched for the next target for his rage, and his eyes were stricken.

“What are you going to do?” asked Freddie.

He was seeing more faces now: Emily sighing as she stared across the debris-filled river, Stanley laughing desperately, trying to connect with someone who could talk back, Heather's fierce eyes as she stood in her dark doorway.

 He thought of them again, that day he had last seen them all, before Bonnie had been killed and everything had changed again. They had been confused and angry, but standing up from their chairs, asking questions.

He could feel it inside him now, his whole being, filled with their collective scream. He looked away from Freddie, and ran towards his brother.

He grabbed Eric's arms, and the movement started again. Eric was struggling, not realizing yet who was holding onto him.

“Eric, we have to stop this! People are getting hurt. Not this way!” He could barely hear his own voice over the crashing ocean.

“I - can't - stop it!” shouted Eric, fighting against Jake as he protested.

“We can't let them die like this!” shouted Jake.

“People are already dead, Jake! You have no idea what's already been done -”

“I do! I know what you've already been through. April's dead! Dad's dead. They're gone. These people are alive. We need to help them stop this. They shouldn't die over this!”

Eric struggled against him, and sobbed openly as he kept shouting. “That's how we'll all end anyway. I've seen it, again and again. We could never save them. Never!”

 As screams erupted around him, Jake held on, using all the strength he had left. “I know, Eric. You did what you could. You always have. Do what you can now. Please.”

“I can't Jake! I can't keep standing here stupidly while they die. Ravenwood, Mitchell Cafferty, and that soldier back there. I didn't stand up to any of them.”

“It's not your fault they died. Heather, Dale, or April. They're gone, and we're here. Come on Eric!”

“No, Jake!” shouted Eric, breaking free.

Jake took a quick breath and lunged forward, tackling Eric. They both fell, struggling amidst the huge throng of people running, fighting, and trampling. Jake let out a cry as he felt himself sinking into the pit of flailing arms and legs and bodies.

“Jake?”

It was dark, and the cold seeped into his bones.

“Oh my God!”

There were still arms holding onto him, and he still struggled. He could hear someone shouting nearby, “It's Jake Green!” but he couldn't tell if the voice belonged to the arms he was trying to push away.

“Jake, are you okay?”

He blinked, and glanced up. In the darkness, he could barely make out a head of curly hair. His eyes focused in on the shocked face that was inches away from his.

“Dale?” he whispered groggily. Dale was supposed to be dead. “How are you here?”

“Importing - what are you doing here? Seems like it was a bad crash.”

Dale was looking at him with an intense expression of worry. It wasn't making sense.

“You're - you're dead. And Heather-” his voice was strained. “The others are all - Eric! Where's Eric?”

“Do you think you hit your head?” asked Dale, who was leaning back a little. Jake was grabbing him by the sleeves.

“They were all just here - they were dying! We have to do something! Eric! I need to stop him!”

“He's - his - she's - I'll go get - hang on!” sputtered Dale, trying to stand. “Just hang on a second Jake. I'll be back.”

He was alone again, lying on the ground, and his surroundings were coming into sharp relief. They were somewhere outside, and there were no buildings around.

He heard soft footprints approaching. Dale stood over him again, careful not to get too close this time. “Mary was waiting for a delivery. I got her on the radio. She and Eric are on their way, and they're bringing help. Can you move?”

Jake tried, and answered him with a groan. “Maybe you'd better not try,” said Dale.

Jake was still reeling from the things he'd witnessed moments before. He wanted to ask more questions, but as he felt the crushing feeling coming back to him, he stayed silent. Dale stood nearby, shifting his weight awkwardly. A few times, he mumbled something to one of the others Jake couldn't make out in the darkness.

Soon, he could hear another vehicle approaching. Headlights blinded him as it skidded to a stop. “Over here!” Dale shouted unnecessarily.

“Jake!” His brother's voice, so anguished moments earlier, reached his ears.

“Eric?” he whispered. Eric was beside him on the ground already, assessing him for injuries and throwing a blanket over him. “Eric - Mary, you should find her, she's -”

“She went to get Mom. We'll see them at the med centre.”

“Everyone else - you have to stop them. They'll die.”

“You don't know how glad we were to hear you were alive. Everyone's been so worried!”

Eric wasn't listening. He didn't understand. “Eric, the A.S.A. caught the others. They're going to take them away.”

“No, Jake, we're okay. They let us all go free. Everything - well, so much has happened!”

Jake's breathing was heavy, and he could hear the hoarseness in his voice. “But they were taking you away. And Heather was dead. I kept thinking, everyone else will be dead soon.” His voice sounded pitiful, but he was barely aware of the paramedics lifting him onto a stretcher. He could only see his brother's confused face.

“No, they let us go. Heather's fine. She's - well, she'll want to tell you herself. It's okay, Jake,” he said, looking at his older brother with concern. “You were just dreaming.”

“But -” Jake started as they pushed him into the ambulance. It was coming back now - Freddie, the choice he'd have to make. He hadn't realized it had been as simple as waking.

“I know, Jake. Sometimes I dream about it too,” said Eric.

The doors swung shut as as the ambulance started; both Green brothers were left to thoughts of their own dreams.

 Jake awoke in a silent room. Cool sunlight filtered in through the blinds on the window. He slowly sat up, a feeling of numbness descending on him as he realized he was in his own living room.

The events of the night before came rushing back to him as his head began pounding. He remembered Heather pointing a gun at him, Dale shouting at him in the cold, Stanley tossing table scraps to a pack of dogs, his mother crying over him at the med centre. Fighting with Skylar Stevens, listening to Emily defend Jonah, Eric and Mary excitedly telling him about Beck and his men letting them all walk free as they sat in plastic chairs in his room.

He shuddered, trying to figure out which parts had been real and which hadn't. It didn't help that some things- Bill clutching his broken nose, Gray's forfeiting the town from his office chair, and Heather's blood on his mother's arm - seemed sharp in his mind, compared to the hazy scenes of his mother, brother, Mary, and the doctors circling around his bed at the med centre.

Even more unnerving was the fact that he didn't remember how he got to the living room. Stretching out a leg, he winced in pain. He thought he'd remembered a car crash of some kind.

He moved to sit up. A familiar panic was starting to build. Not knowing what was real meant he would have to get out there right away and see what was happening. He stood, testing out his leg. He could walk, with relatively little pain. He mainly felt very stiff. He took a few quick steps, and bumped into the coffee table, sending a tray of food toppling to the ground. The glass of water smashed, and at its sound, he heard footsteps and familiar voices shouting.

 His mother raced into the room, followed closely by Emily. Before he had time to react, they had forced him back onto the couch, and had him wrapped in an afghan. He couldn't get a word in edgewise, between his mother's exclamations that he was home and safe, and Emily's breathless questions.

“What's happening out there?” he managed groggily, in between Gail's smoothing his hair back and Emily leaning in to kiss him.

Emily launched into an explanation that seemed vaguely familiar. It seemed as though Eric had been telling him about Beck turning his back on the ASA sometime last night, but he wasn't sure. His mother was silent through this explanation, watching him through shining eyes.

“But-” he didn't know how to make his confusion more evident to the smiling women who hadn't seen Jericho nearly obliterated last night. “How did I get here?”

“Oh, Sweetie,” said Gail. “Do you remember last night?”

“Some of it,” he said wryly.

She gave him a teary smile before she began. “I wasn't even asleep last night when Mary came to get me. I had this dream, about April, playing in the snow, and for some reason, I thought of you when I woke up. I couldn't sleep, so I came in here and sat. Mary came in the back door, and told me you were back, but you'd been in an accident. You were awake when we got there last night, Jake. I was so worried something horrible had happened to you, but you were sitting up talking to us. You didn't make a lot of sense, but we thought it must have been the shock.”

Emily squeezed his hand. “I can't imagine what you went through.”

He nodded, only vaguely paying attention to them. His mind was still on the people he'd seen fighting the soldiers. “What was I saying?” he asked.

Gail looked hesitant. “Well, for some reason, you kept telling Eric it wasn't his fault. Your brother was worried to death, and you kept telling him he'd done his best. But Kenchy said you would be fine - you'd had a bit of a concussion, but he watched you for awhile, and said you'd be okay to go home, if we watched you.”

He nodded again. “So you brought me back here?”

She nodded. “You were exhausted, but we woke you up every hour.”

“So? Am I going to live?” he asked.

She held his chin in her hand, looking up into her son's eyes. “I think you'll make it,” she said, a hint of her old teasing smile.

“Okay,” he said, steeling himself for what he wanted to do. “Thank you, both of you. For looking out for me last night.”

“Eric came to get me this morning, at five. Said your mom had been up all night and would I come help,” said Emily, quickly smiling.

He surveyed her cheery face for a moment before saying, “Thank you. Really, thank you for coming.”

She leaned in closer, fixing him with a serious expression. “Jake - what happened to you out there?”

“What? The accident?” he asked. “I think it was a road gang, I'm not sure.”

“No, what happened before that? Where's Hawkins?”

He could see how badly she wanted to know, but he couldn't bring himself to take his mind all the way back to Cheyenne. Not when it was on an empty Bailey's tavern and the ruins of a bridge.

“He's fine. I'l tell you...later, alright Em?” he asked.

She said nothing for a moment, but stared at him with confusion in her eyes. “Jake -”

“Later,” he whispered.

Gail, assessing the situation quickly, stood briskly, offering a hand out to Emily.

“Why don't you come have something to eat, Emily? You haven't eaten anything since you've been here, or stopped to rest.”

“But he just woke up -” she started.

“I'm okay, you go eat,” he said quickly. “Really, you should eat something.”

Though she looked as though she might resist, Emily squeezed his hand once more and stood up.

“Jake, can I get anything for you honey?” asked Gail.

“I think I'm going to - I need to get some air,” he said.

“Are you sure, Jake? You might want to rest a little.”

“No, I'll be okay Mom. I just really need to process some things.” He could see that she would like nothing better than to shove him back onto the couch and bring him blankets and soup, but he held out a hand before she could protest anymore.

“I'll come with you, Jake,” said Emily, starting towards him.

“No, you should get some rest,” he said. “But thank you.” He gave her a small smile.

Reluctantly, she smiled back.

He dressed quickly, barely taking the time to look at the strange man reflected in his bedroom mirror. He was more concerned about finding everyone else he hadn't seen since he'd left for Cheyenne. He hurried back downstairs, pausing in the doorway. He could hear his mother and Emily talking cheerfully. He glanced into the room, nodded to them, and stepped out again. He quickly made his escape before they could change their minds, leaving them in the kitchen, his mother standing over the stove and Emily sitting at the table, looking idly through a book.

He stepped out into the bright sunlight of the afternoon. Breathing in the still summer air made his head feel a little clearer. He was still trying to shake off the memories of last night, but they kept flashing back into his mind; little things, connected with the doorstep of a house, a crack in a window, or an old truck parked in a driveway.

 He walked along, his hands in his pockets. He noticed for what seemed like the first time just how well everything in town had been preserved during these difficult times. The army had helped rebuild the streets with mortar damage, the broken windows had been replaced, and there were even flowers growing in some of the yards.

A white truck slowed down as it passed him. He turned to see who was rolling down the window. Stanley leaned across Mimi to shout out of the passenger window, “Jake Green! I see the rumours are true! You're back and you've made it through another accident!”

Jake walked over to the window and looked in at his friends. “Yeah. Apparently, third time's the charm.”

“Only you, Jake. You and cats!” exclaimed Stanley. He had been grinning from ear to ear, but he suddenly turned serious. “I'm really glad you're back, man.”

“Me too,” said Jake. He looked at Mimi, who had gently pushed Stanley back towards his seat, though his arm remained across her shoulders. “You look good, Mimi,” he said softly.

She quietly nodded to acknowledge the look that passed between them. “Thanks,” she said.

“Well, Jake, I'd love to get out and catch up with you, but we're already late for Dr. Kenchy,” said Stanley.

Mimi grinned. “I'm on my way to finally getting my arm back,” she said, nodding towards the sling holding her arm against her chest.

“Don't want to keep you waiting on that,” said Jake. “Good luck!”

“Will we see you at Bailey's tonight?” she asked. Both of them looked expectantly at him.

“Uh, sure,” he said, finding it difficult to look away from his friends.

“We'll see you then, buddy!” said Stanley. “Now I've got to get the wife to her appointment, or she'll flip out on me.”

“Wife?” stammered Jake.

Stanley and Mimi glanced at each other, sharing a sly smile. “We'll talk later, Jake. Glad to see you're okay!” said Mimi.

She rolled up her window, and with that, they drove away, leaving Jake to stare after them. For a moment, he wondered if he'd woken up in yet another dream world. He'd been away such a short time, but so much had happened, it all seemed strange to him. Still, seeing Stanley and Mimi leaning against each other, laughing like that - he wanted this world for them.

He was pondering this, walking along, not paying attention to the side walk ahead of him. He was aware that there were people around him, and he walked among their conversations.

“Prepare to walk the plank!”

“Noooo -” Jake's train of thought was suddenly shattered as a blur of bright colours slammed into him. He clutched his stiff elbow, and looked down. Woody Taylor was sprawled on the ground.

Behind Woody, several other kids stood in a semi-circle, staring with serious eyes up at Jake. “Good going, Woody,” said one of the kids. Jake recognized him- he was one of the kids from the bus. His eyes travelled quickly over the group, and recognized a few others: Lucas was peering up in awe through his glasses, one of the boys who had held a flashlight for him was giving Woody a silent reprimand, and right at the edge of the group, holding a broken branch that had probably been her pirate's sword, was Stacy.

A rush of emotions came flooding back to him. He remembered everything suddenly in sharp detail - the details of two nights. Last night, when he had learned from his brother that the children were dead, and that night so long ago when he had saved them. He couldn't find words to speak as he looked down at them.

Woody was still on the ground, groaning slightly. A girl from the back of the group - Jake suddenly recognized as the girl who had taped together the straws - leaned down to whisper to Woody. He could tell she was talking about him. The others were all still looking up at him, with strange looks in their eyes. He vaguely recognized it - the same way people had looked at his father that day he was first inaugurated and Jake had been forced to wear a suit.

He reached out quickly to help Woody to his feet. The girl, Julie he remembered, was helping him brush the dirt off his clothes and on his other side, Hawkins' son, Sam, was whispering something. Woody's cheeks had turned red. “I'm sorry, mister,” he stammered. The others were all still giving him disapproving looks. It occurred to Jake that Woody had somehow committed a serious offence in their eyes.

“Hey, that's alright,” Jake said, tentatively putting a hand on Woody's shoulder. The boy looked up at him with nervous eyes. “It's okay,” repeated Jake. He quickly glanced at all of them, attempting a friendly smile. “It's okay,” he said again, directed at all of them.

No one said anything for a moment. Finally, Jake nodded and began to walk away. He kept himself from turning to look back at them. He could feel their eyes on his back. Only after he was a few feet away from them did he chuckle to himself. As he reached the corner to turn onto Main Street, he hazarded one glance over his shoulder. The children had finally resumed their game, and were running, shrieking, and brandishing stick-swords. One stood at the side, watching him still. Stacy. He gave her a nod. A smile came over her quickly, and she turned back to her game.

Jake turned back to his mission. His step felt a little lighter as he hurried the rest of the way to Bailey's.

He pushed open the door, breathing a sigh as he took in the familiar surroundings. The room was lit, the tables were wiped clean, the blackboard was advertising 'Revolutionary Hero Sandwiches', and the sight that distracted him from all of those things - His brother sat at the bar, his head bent, looking down at some papers spread across the counter. Mary leaned over the papers on the other side, her head close to his. She was the first to see the newcomer, and she quickly laid a hand on Eric's sleeve.

Eric whipped around, his shock transforming to a grin. Wordlesslly, the two of them came towards him, and he walked towards them. They stopped in the middle of the room, a distance of two feet between them.

“You're okay, then, Jake?” asked Eric, glancing down at his feet and then up at Jake's face.

“Yeah. I guess I said some weird things last night?” asked Jake.

“No, not - well, I'm glad you're alright,” said Eric. Slowly, he reached out an arm. Jake pulled his brother into an awkward hug, and after a moment, loosened an arm to pull Mary into it too.

“I'm glad everyone is okay,” said Jake, as they broke apart a second later. “Sounds like you guys did some crazy things while I was gone.”

Both of them grinned, a little sheepishly, but he could see the pride on their faces. “Didn't think we could survive without you, huh?” asked Eric.

Jake did his best to laugh, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. The door opened, and Mary walked over to greet the latest newcomers. Jake kept looking at his brother, who had taken on a serious expression. “You are okay, right Eric?”

Eric had been watching Mary's retreating form, but he looked quickly at Jake, trying to smile. “Yeah. I just - you're going to razz me about this later, so I don't know why I'd bother telling you, but I had this bad feeling last night. I had this dream. There was this dark field, and this woman. I think it was April. Haven't dreamt about her in a while. I could only tell it was her because of her hair. I just had this feeling when I woke up - and Mary said you were out there, and had been hurt. I'm just glad - glad you made it home Jake.”

Jake had been glancing at the wall behind his brother during this confession, but he had also seen Eric's face as he spoke. He spoke carefully himself now. “Me too.”

“Jake -”

He turned around. Dale Turner stood near the doorway. Skylar Stevens was next to him. Mary stood nearby and it seemed they had been engaged in a conversation. “You're okay?” asked Dale.

He looked utterly uncomfortable. Jake had a sudden flash of the terrified look on Dale's face as he'd woken on the road the night before. “Yeah, thanks Dale,” he said.

There was a heavy silence in the air that went on until Mary broke it, offering to bring everyone drinks. Dale and Skylar politely declined, reasoning that they needed to continue with their work. Jake briefly wondered exactly what work they were doing these days, but resolved to find out later. It could wait until he had finished seeing all he needed to see this afternoon. He accepted a drink of water that Eric offered him, and listened half-heartedly to his brother's talk about a gathering at Bailey's that night. He was watching the other three conversing quickly on the other side of the room.

“Of course, the news that you're back has got everyone excited, and so people are planning to come out here tonight. Stanley said he hoped you'd be here, and Jimmy and Bill are both planning on telling you all about their parts in the defeat of Major Beck's regime.”

Jake could only chuckle as he learned that everyone in town knew by now of his return, and his accident.

“Last time everyone was here, we'd just buried Bonnie.” Eric's voice had gotten quiet. He looked carefully at Jake. They had told him about their bold foray out of hiding, and how Beck and his men had cornered them at the grave, but the details of Bonnie's burial had been glossed over.

“I guess I missed the funeral,” Jake said. He didn't know what else he could say. For a moment, had had felt bad he hadn't been there for his friends, but realizing just how much farther things could have gone in that direction, he realized how absurd it was. He hadn't dreamt that world to make him feel guilty about things he couldn't control. “She out by her parents?”

“Yeah,” said Eric.

Both brothers were quiet, barely noticing the sound of the door shutting. Mary busied herself wiping glasses at the bar. Finally, Jake made his decision. He knew who he wanted to see next.

“I'm going out there. To pay my respects”

Eric nodded. There was no explanation needed. Mary turned and caught his eye. “Bonnie?” she whispered.

Jake nodded at her.

“Do you need a ride? You should go see if Dale's left yet. They were going out that way,” she said quickly, urging him towards the door.

Jake, not wanting to brave the walk out there, thanked the both of them quickly and promised he would hitch a ride back when Stanley came by to check on the animals.

He rushed outside, scanning the street and quickly seeing the truck Dale had used for his business pursuits. He made a beeline for it.

Sure enough, Dale and Skylar were already seated in the cab. Dale was about to start the engine when Jake waved frantically through the windows. Skylar noticed him first, and nudged Dale as she opened her door.

He made known his situation and they obliged, Skylar moving over so that he could sit in the passenger seat.

As the truck started to move, Jake noticed Skylar glancing out the window across him. He followed her line of gaze towards the lawn in front of town hall, craning his neck suddenly to look up the flag pole. “What's that?” he asked in surprise.

“It's been there since the rangers came out of hiding,” said Dale.

“I heard Gray put it up when he got back from Cheyenne,” said Skylar.

Jake watched the yellow and green flag grow smaller as they drove farther away.

As they made their way down the familiar streets, Jake found himself amused at the awkwardness that had sprung up between the three of them as they rode so closely squashed together. This Dale and Skylar, though they'd done, according to some accounts, things that would have put him to shame in his days of teenaged rebellion, were in some ways still just as painfully young and awkward as ever.

“So when are you going to tell us what happened out there?” asked Skylar. Only because they were crammed together in such close quarters did Jake pick up Dale's subtle warning nudge. Undeterred, and briefly flashing Dale a dark look before looking back to Jake, she said “People are talking about going to war with Cheyenne. Well, are we?”

Jake took in her raised eyebrows, and noticed Dale seemed curious as well, though he determinedly kept his eyes ahead on the road. He'd always seen them both, and Skylar especially, as a bit of a nuisance at times, and other times an unexpected ally. He'd never thought that she would be the first person he'd tell this information. “It seems that way, yes.”

She processed it for a minute, and her eyes took on a resigned look. “Okay. That's what I thought.”

Sensing that Skylar's question hadn't upset Jake terribly, Dale cleared his throat. “Are we going to get more information than that?” he asked.

Jake sighed. “Yes. I promise you, you'll find out everything soon enough. I'll share what I know, soon as I can. But there's something I need to do first.”

Dale took his eyes off the road to study Jake for a second, but he seemed to accept this answer. Skylar didn't say anything else either. She was looking ahead with a sombre expression, but he thought she looked determined too.

When they reached the edge of the Richmond property, Jake insisted that they let him walk the rest of the way. Without a funeral procession, visitation or eulogy, he wanted time to make his way up the hill slowly.

They drove away and left him alone. His leg was still sore as he walked across the grass, but he barely noticed it. It was such a beautiful day. It seemed like such an irony, considering his purpose there, but also completely fitting.

He thought he would reflect on so many things: holding her out like a wiggling football the first time he'd been introduced to his friend's new baby sister, helping her play tricks on Stanley when it was already past her bedtime, groaning over her obsession with The Lion King that one year, or any of the ways she'd become so grown up these past few months. It was the one thing that he'd been reminded of last night that came to him again now. That day behind the barn, the bicycle he remembered from when they were kids, but painted purple now. She'd ridden it around and around the yard, laughing every time she zipped by him.

He felt so solitary under the laughing blue sky he was shocked to see a figure standing at the edge of the Richmond family plot. He felt a strange tingling as he got closer and saw who it was. He wanted to run up to her, reach out and touch her, to be sure she was alive. He thought to himself how silly this was. She'd never been dead. Instead, he walked towards her.

“Heather!”

She'd had her back to him, and spun around, a startled look on her face. “Jake!” There was shock on her face, and a whole lot of other things he couldn't try to examine at the moment. He was only able to stand there smiling at her.

She ran the few feet to where he stood, and stopped abruptly. “I heard you were - well, you hadn't come back, and then -”

“I tried to come back, as soon as I could, only -” Though things had been tense the moment before she had spoken, now they quickly came together in a breathless hug. He wasn't sure if he was pulling her towards him or if she was pulling him. They pulled away from each other just as quickly, and the tension returned. He couldn't stop himself from staring at her.

She was solemn. “I heard you got hurt. Are you okay?” she asked, lightly touching his arm.

“Yeah, I've been worse,” he said with a shrug.

She smiled a little, relief evident on her face. “I just - I heard you were at the med centre and no one knew if you were going to be -”

“I guess you can't believe everything you hear in this town,” he said with a laugh.

She couldn't seem to bring herself to smile again. “Well, I'm glad you're okay, Jake.”

He felt stupid because he couldn't keep the grin off his face. “I'm glad you're alright! I heard you got arrested -”

“Ah, it was nothing,” she interrupted, waving her hand absently.

He shook his head. “No, it wasn't. I can't believe what you did.”

She looked him in the eye again. “I just did what I had to do.”

“You didn't -” he began, but knowing he had gotten her into it in the first place, he couldn't find a way to finish the sentence. He glanced instead at the direction from which she'd come. “Did you come to see Bonnie?”

She nodded. “I woke up this morning feeling horrible that I hadn't been out to pay my respects yet. I saw Stanley, and Mimi, but I just couldn't come out here alone. This morning though - don't laugh, okay? I had this dream about Bonnie.”

He looked expectantly at her, all trace of joking gone. She hesitated a second before finishing. “There was all this water. She was in a row-boat. And you were with her. She was telling you to get out of the boat, get back on shore. Then she looked at me and said she had to go. She just paddled away. Weird, huh?”

He shrugged. “Could've been weirder.” He motioned towards the gravesite, his eyebrows raised.

Without a word, they walked over to the fresh mound of earth, nestled amongst the gravestones of long-dead Richmonds. They were certainly not among the first to have made the trip up the hill - bouquets of wildflowers covered the ground by the simple wooden cross that temporarily marked Bonnie Richmond's final resting place.

He stared at the ground, wanting to find the words to say goodbye to that laughing girl with the purple bike, but unable to in the presence of the woman who wasn't dead, but standing beside him.

“I, uh, got in another accident last night. I had a rough couple of hours. When I was lying there on the road, I had time to think about things.”

He kept his eyes on the sunflowers lying in the dirt, but he could see her out of the corner of his eye, doing the same.

“I'm sorry I put you in that position. I should never have -”

“Jake -”

“I didn't think how bad things could get, what could happen -”

“Jake, really.” She turned to look directly at him. “I did what I thought needed to be done. That's how it works, right? We all play our part?”

He stared at her for a few seconds. He couldn't tell if it was amazement that she could talk that way after nearly being destroyed by the secret he'd asked her to keep, or amazement at seeing her standing in the sunshine, her hair blowing around her face. He took a breath. “I know a lot of things have happened. I'm dealing with things; you are too. Sorry I haven't been a very good friend.” He swallowed, imagining again how she had looked when she had answered the door with a gun. “I just wanted to tell you how glad I am that you're okay. That you came home from New Bern, and Cheyenne. How glad I am that you're alive. And -” he paused to take one more breath, “- how glad I am that I met you on that bus.”

She gave a small laugh, but her eyes had become a brilliant blue. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I mean, I'm glad too,” she said with another laugh. He reached out his arms slowly, and she put her arms around him too, leaning into a hug. He held on tightly, wondering how many times in his life he would hold her in his arms after losing her. He didn't laugh at the absurdity of it, just smiled at how relieved he felt.

They let go again, and he was intensely aware of where they were standing. “I, uh...”

She seemed to realize what he was getting at. “Oh, I was almost done here.” She glanced down again, her eyes suddenly sad. “I wish I'd known more sign language. 'Where's the bathroom' seems hardly appropriate.”

“You could say 'Have a good sleep',” he suggested, demonstrating as he spoke. “I learned that one for when I came over to watch the game with Stanley. She'd always try to get us to let her stay up and watch The Lion King with her instead.”

She chuckled softly, then repeated the signs herself. “Like this?”

He nodded. She turned to the cross again. “Have a good sleep,” she whispered, pulling her hand away from her lips and folding both hands against her cheek. She turned back to Jake. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome,” he said.

She looked like she wanted to say more. Finally, she asked, “Do you need a ride back to town? When you're ready, I mean.”

He shook his head. “I think I'll be a while, but thanks. Hey, are you going to Bailey's tonight?”

“I -” she began, but faltered.

“You should come,” he said. “We could talk, you know. Like old times. Before everything got so crazy.”

She laughed. “Yeah.” She nodded a wordless goodbye and turned to leave.

“Heather?”

She turned again. As a breeze blew through their hair, he couldn't help but smile. “If you ever need anything -”

“Yeah, I know. You too,” she said with a smile of her own. She was gone then, over the grass and back towards the town of people he couldn't leave behind.

He looked again at the final resting place of one of the ones who was leaving him behind. It was still so strange. He could never have imagined she could be gone like this, in a fraction of a second. They would always leave like this he realized, with little warning. There would be no keeping them there, no way to tie them down so they couldn't escape into the summer air.

Last night, it had seemed like a choice. He could keep his feet on the ground, where everyone must lose and fall, or he could go with them. It had seemed like they were hovering so closely, he might just be able to reach out and grasp them with the tips of his fingers. He had wanted to, and to let go of the ties that held him in this so often miserable place. Finally, in choosing the breathing, fragile people who still walked on the ground, he'd despaired that the others, whose voices he'd almost heard, who left scents in the air, would slip away from him forever.

Now, standing here with only the dead as his witness, he felt that they were still around, hovering on the edge of everything. They were still tied to this place, in the teary eyes of their family members, the things they'd once built with their own hands, the memories they would flit in and out of. They were still wound tightly through the life of this community, as much as he was himself. It wasn't about choosing to let go of the dead, then. It was about choosing to walk with the living.

It was strange that it took almost letting go to realize how much of a hold this place had on him, and how much he had a hold on it. He'd cared for his family and friends before, appreciated their talents and marvelled at the dumb luck that had seemed to fall into their path after the bombs. Never before had he considered just how much of it he had made, and how much of it they had created themselves. He had foreseen uncontrollable forces of destruction, heading in their direction. Now, he saw their capability too.

He looked at Bonnie's marker again. Such a simple end to such a long goodbye. He felt them all now - not just her, his father, his sister-in-law, his best friend, his grandfather, and all the others. They needed him too. He had to go on playing his part in the lives of their loved ones, to carry on the work they'd started, to keep all of this going in ways they no longer could. Though he knew he would long for them again, long to be able to reach out and touch them, he understood the lesson.

He bent down slowly, reaching out to touch the earth, but he was looking up at the clear blue sky. “I'm going to keep trying. I promise,” he whispered.

Knowing he would soon be walking back to the farm, thinking of trivial things like when Stanley would show up to feed the cows, if Heather would tell him her latest story at Bailey's, and when Hawkins would call with an update, he contented himself for the moment to keep his thoughts still, remembering the dead and living he could not let go.