Chapter 2

The little girl wiggled. Joel snapped awake, and would have fallen out of the tree if he hadn't thought to tie himself into the net he'd woven out of 550-cord the night before. He was cold and stiff, his legs were swollen from dangling over the branch while he slept. She wiggled again, squirming, trying to get her head out from inside his jacket. He unzipped it a little and a little pixie face popped out. She looked at him, puzzled, then snuggled her head back down on his chest.

He grunted his way to a lower branch, and recovered the net. They'd probably have to use it again. Carefully he lowered himself to the ground and unzipped his jacket the rest of the way. The woman's shirt he'd put on her reached the ground and she stumbled as she walked towards the stream they'd reached the night before. "Me wa' dink"

He headed her off, and gave her one of the bottles instead. He hadn't dared start a fire the night before for fear the light might attract passing zombies, or other two legged predators. They needed to boil some more water though. He used dry wood and kept it small, to minimize the smoke. What little it did put out should be dispersed by the tree branches above.

She stared in fascination, but didn't reach for it. When he set up a pot of water over it, she yelled at him. "Hot! Hot!"

He chuckled. "Yes, it's hot, don't touch"

"No tuch, hot!"

Downstream from where he'd gotten the water, he picked up stones and retrieved her clothes. After wringing them out, he hung them on stakes near the fire. Breakfast was stale bread toasted over the fire and a juice box for the baby. The boiled water refilled their water bottles with enough left over for them to 'share' a cup of hot chocolate. After, she threw rocks into the stream while he inventoried what they had. He dumped all the outer wrappers for the food, and put what would fit into his bag along with all the water. The rest went into the stroller along with most of the diapers.

He emptied the diaper bag out onto the ground in front of him. On the top of the pile was a crumpled crayon drawing. Three people in front of a house, with labels, 'Mommy', 'Sam - Me', and the smallest, 'Tyler'. Joel's hands shook as he carefully folded the picture. "Tyler?" he called.

"Wha?"

He swallowed hard. "Come here Tyler"

She lurched over and plopped herself down in his lap. He sorted through the pile tossing crumpled school flyers and tissues to one side. Mixed in with the jumble of diapers he found a fat wallet and a baggy with a handful of .38 ammo. His hands worked blindly reloading the .38 while he blinked away tears. What was left he put in his pocket, eleven rounds total, twenty-three for the now clean AR-15, and three for his pistol. The folded picture he put carefully in the now empty bag. He saved the wallet for last.

When Tyler saw her mother's drivers license, she shouted and stabbed her teeny fingers at the picture. "Mama!" He took it from behind the clear cover and handed it to her. The credit cards and the money, he left, but he found three photos. One of Tyler, who amongst the spate of jabber he'd provoked, exclaimed "Me, Me". One of the boy, who she called Am, and another off the two of them together with their mother. He took all three of the pictures put them in the ziplock and then in an outside pocket of his bag.

Joel spent another twenty minutes working with the 550-cord. When he was done, he had a kind of support on the outside of his jacket. Tyler would be safest if he carried her, but he needed both hands free. He loaded the bags onto the stroller, and moved it down to the road. Walking in the spring sunshine, he sang softly to Tyler. The night before it had kept her quiet, and if he kept it low it wouldn't carry very far.

"I left Rome for Lalage's sake
By the Legions' Road to Rimini,
She vowed her heart was mine to take
With me and my shield to Rimini..."

" ... It's twenty-five marches to Narbo,
It's forty-five more up the Rhone,
And the end may be death in the heather
Or life on an Emperor's throne.
But whether the Eagles obey us..."

Joel stopped suddenly and tried to calm his breathing. He'd pushed hard all day, and they'd been going mostly uphill for the last hour. The noise was coming from ... that way. He left the stroller and walked to the edge of the road, where it overlooked the valley they'd come from. He saw a flash of reflected light, and knowing where to look, he found the source quickly with his binoculars. They were small, but good enough to make out the little convoy. Three cars, four pickups, a van, and a panel truck. At first he was relieved, they would be much safer with a big group. But there was something wrong.