The search through the resort's main building at last revealed a series of passages between the upper and lower levels, all leading down to a basement like area formed from natural caverns beneath the ground. It was in these caverns that they located the island's survivors, including the mystery man from the roof. The caverns also held the real secret to where Briggs' so-called 'Uncle' and his friends obtained most of their wealth to finance the island.

"Holy Jesus I don't think the company arms room back at Pastor had this many weapons," Steele said, pivoting about and taking a good, hard look around the caverns.

"Yea. I may of, uh, forgot to mention that there were some known arms dealers as well as drug cartels that popped up along our map of potential refueling sites," Briggs supplied.

"They run drugs here too?" CJ asked in surprise.

"No, no drugs. At least not that they were selling. These guys were into something a little more profitable, for them anyway."

"They were gun runners," Sanchez laughed, shaking his head.

"Well, you never know when you might need the extra cash flow," Cowboy told him. Briggs focused her attention on the survivors huddled in the corner, intent on interrogating them about what had happened.

An hour later, the questioning over and the tale of the island's infection told, the group emerged back out on the helipad, their new additions in tow. The helicopters had all arrived by this point, including the one carrying Roger and their medical personnel. The latter three nowhere to be seen.

"Michael!" Briggs called out to the first person she saw. "Any word on Roger's status?"

"He was looking pretty bad when they touched down. Ana and Tom got him moved to the infirmary at the back of the staff quarters and were trying to stabilize him."

"How long?"

"Almost half an hour now. Peter's with them too."

Briggs nodded, making her way towards the building in question, barking out orders along the way. At the threshold of the door she paused, unconsciously seeing Mike's body sprawled in the doorway once more, even though it had long since been cleared away. Shaking off the feeling of walking over a grave, she moved inside, nearly running into Tom and Ana who were coming from the opposite direction. "Roger?" she asked, seeing the looks on their faces.

"He didn't make it, died about 5 minutes ago," Ana said sadly. "Peter's with him now, waiting."

"Waiting?"

"Just before he...just before he died, he told Peter that he was going to try and not come back. He didn't want to be a mindless corpse walking the earth, and even though he could feel the urge he was going to fight it."

"But I think it was just the delirium brought on by the infection and fever that made him say it," Tom pointed out quickly. "He was never bit, it was a gunshot wound, he shouldn't come back." A snarl followed by a single shot echoed through the building, and moments later Peter entered the hallway, walking towards them slowly.

"It's done," were the only words from the former policeman as he walked closer.

"Looks like he must have missed the memo about the rules of reanimated corpses, unless you've been wrong all along and it's not just the bites that bring someone back," commented Briggs, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"But that can't be! The only people we've seen turn into one of those things have been bitten," Tom said insistently.

"Well, I just watched my best friend die and come back, and he damn sure wasn't bit," Peter said gruffly.

"So tell me this people, with all the corpses that we've seen, can any of you say with 100 assurance that not a single one couldn't have ended up that way after dying from natural causes?" Briggs asked. "Because I sure as hell know that I can't say that." The general consensus ended up a unanimous no. "From what the locals here on the island told us, the infection hit about two and a half weeks ago. One of the builders must have suffered a massive heart attack and died, at least that's what it sounded like to me. He was brought in here to the infirmary, and the staff doctor worked on him, trying to revive him, but everything he did failed. Everyone else went back to work, and it was just the doctor and Mike in here with him when he turned. I think you can all pretty much guess what happened after that."

"This kind of changes the hypothesis about the infection we've all accepted, or at least most of us accepted anyway. We're really gonna have to rethink everything that we thought we knew," Ana replied.

"Not really, just think of this as adding a little bit of a twist to the theory. And then think about this, I say we've all been infected by the virus, and I think it just lays dormant until your vital functions stop, then it goes to work re-animating the body directly from the cellular level. Simple and efficient really," Briggs said.

"But what about the bites?" Tom asked. "The bites still cause people to die and become one of those things."

"You need to think of everything like a chemical reaction. The bites are just a catalyst that speeds up death and basically brings someone back to, well, life-like killing machine status that much quicker. It all boils down to some simple chemical equations. You just have to accept that as it stands, we're all screwed," Briggs said.

"So what's the point of continuing to fight for survival then?" Tom cried out.

"Hope," Ana told him quietly.

"Indeed. Maybe somehow there's a way to kill the virus when it's in the dormant stage," replied Briggs. "So, in light of that thought, let's take care of Roger's body along with the rest of them out there and make this place livable again. You guys oughta be safe here until the rest of the world manages to get this, well, whatever this all is, under some sort of control."

"What do you mean take care of Roger's body along with the rest of them?" Peter demanded, focusing on the first part of her comment.

"Why are you talking like you won't be here with us?" questioned Ana, focusing on the latter half of Briggs' statement.

"Kenneth and Walker are digging a pit down on the far side of the beach, down wind of the rooms. We're gonna torch the bodies."

"You're not doing that with Roger! He isn't some nameless, faceless nobody, he was one of us," protested Peter vehemently.

Briggs looked at him, consideringly. "Out behind the building you should be able to find a tool shed where the handymen kept their tools and grounds equipment. Help yourself to a shovel."

"You just expect him to bury Roger alone?" Tom demanded.

"It's his concern not mine, I have other matters to attend to, preparations to be made. And for the record, nobody out there is a nameless, faceless thing, they had friends and family too. Just like your friend Roger," Briggs said, leaving before anyone could say anything further to her.

"That's got to be the coldest bitch on the planet," muttered Tom. "Making a comment like that and still going ahead and just torching those bodies."

Over the course of the next few days, they finished burning the corpses that they'd left littering the grounds of the resort upon their arrival. Peter got his wish, and on the morning of the second day, they held a small funeral service for Roger, with everyone but Briggs in attendance. She definitely wasn't out to win any popularity contests with the other castaways at this point. After that, the majority of the group began living what was almost a normal life. Suspected couples shacked up openly now, Ana and Michael, Peter and Fran, and Terry and Nicole seemed to have worked out their differences, as had Monica and Walker. While they all grew closer to each other andformed a societal unit of sorts, Briggs and Cowboy began segregating themselves from the group. On any given day those two were usually holed up in what had once been their Uncle Mike's small apartment in the staff quarters or else his office in the main building. On the evening of their fourth night on the island, the others learned why. It happened when they were getting ready for a cookout on the beach.

"Sonuvabitch! We got incoming helicopters!" Sanchez hollered at the others from where he stood on the edge of the surf that was steadily pulsing onto the beach.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" demanded Henry, grabbing for a set of field glasses and looking out at the sky. The others nervously fingered the weapons they still carried, not enough time having passed yet to let them feel comfortable without the steady, bracing feel the cold steel of a pistol or rifle afforded them.

"US markings on them," Masters said. "Maybe someone should go find Briggs."

"The ice maven can wait," mumbled Steve. He'd been keeping a relatively low profile ever since the day that Briggs had kicked his ass across the rooftop when his cowardice had gotten Roger shot.

"The ice maven already knows," the person in question said, striding past the others and out onto the surf with Sanchez.

"So these ghost ass motherfuckers coming here for your ass or to take out all of us?" Sanchez asked as she drew near his position.

"I guess you could say they're here for me seeing as how I invited them," Briggs told him, her eyes focused on the helicopters that were drawing nearer by the minute.

"What the hell are you talking about?" demanded CJ as the rest of the group began to crowd around Briggs and Sanchez.

"It's a strike force under the command of one Captain Michael Bryant, our little Jester. He's here to give Cowboy and me a lift outta here," Briggs answered smoothly.

"He's one of your people," Michael said, more as a statement than a question.

"Yea, he's one of my people, the plant I had spying on Scarecrow's ass and keeping me abreast of what he was doing," she said turning to look him in the eyes before saying anymore. "It's that old adage about keeping your friends close and your enemies even closer."

"When were you going to tell me about all this?" CJ mumbled. For a brief second, some sort of emotion resembling regret crossed Briggs' eyes, but then she steeled herself away behind the icy demeanor once more.

"Strictly need to know. I did what I promised to do, I brought you and the others to safety. The rest of what I was doing was my business."

"But you told Cowboy," he pressed.

"Cowboy's been in on everything from the start, he's the one person in the world I trust unconditionally, we always work together like this."

"What about me?"

"CJ, this isn't the time or the place for this," she said, her voice hard, but her eyes quietly pleading with him, or at least that's what he liked to believe he saw in her eyes. The helicopters were beginning to touch down on the beach by that point, and everyone's attention became focused on that.

Over the course of the next few hours, soldiers began carrying weapons of all kinds up from the caverns beneath the resort, loading them onto the waiting aircraft. Briggs and Cowboy holed themselves up in the office area with Captain Bryant, who they referred to as Jester, and a female SSG (A/N: that's Staff Sergeant for the acronym challenged) named McNab who spoke with a decidedly British accent. Michael, Ana, and the rest of the original mall group sat a short distance down the beach from all the activity, speculating about what was going to happen, until at last Briggs' bad of merry miscreants finally appeared once again, each of them lugging an over-size, military issue duffel. They tossed them aboard one of the aircraft, McNab and Bryant climbing on board after the gear.

"We're leaving now," Briggs said without much preamble and she and her brother approached Michael's group.

"Why?" questioned Ana. "I thought the whole purpose of this trip was to make it to this island and wait things out."

"Obviously the mission's changed."

"What mission?" demanded Kenneth.

"As I've already told CJ, it's a need to know kind of thing. Obviously it relates to other survivors, that's all I can really say," she hedged in reply. Her brother shook his head.

"There's still some military outposts up and holding across the country. They're pretty well spread out, but I think you've all seen first hand what some of them are capable of," Cowboy said, reminding the others of the time they'd spent on the other island.

"So what? Your big mission is to go back out there and get yourself caught so they can either turn you into a human guinea pig or just kill you outright?" CJ asked bitterly.

"No, we're heading back out there to help the civilian outposts," Briggs said, making the others look at her with surprise. "Yea, that's right, there's civilian outposts all over the country too. My mission is to make sure they have defenses up that are capable of keeping them alive, not only from those things trying to eat them, but crazy doctors trying to use them to experiment on."

"Why you?" Nicole asked.

"Because it's my job. And because there's no one else."

"I'm coming with you," declared CJ, striding forward. Briggs and Cowboy looked like they were both going to start arguing with him.

"Whatever. It's your choice," she told him after a moment. "Anyone who wants to come with us, be ready to leave in 15 minutes," she called out, turning and walking back towards the helicopters. Cowboy stayed behind for a few moments longer.

"She's got another reason for going, you know," he said.

"And just what might that be?" Steve asked, almost sounding like his normal self. The imminent departure of the woman who seemed to enjoy kicking his ass bringing a definite change in his demeanor.

"She's trying to keep you all out of harms way. I think she figures that if she's out in the open, putting her ass on the line, then Scarecrow won't have any reason to come looking for all of you. Except for maybe using you for bait."

"If you think there's the chance that he could come after us for bait, then what difference does it make if you stay or go?" Michael questioned.

"Reverse psychology. She doesn't give a damn about you guys now that you're outta her hair," he called out, walking back to join his sister.

In the end, only CJ and Masters chose to leave the island with the strike force and return to whatwas leftof the United States. The rest of them remained behind, trying to recapture some small part of the lives they remembered before the infection had devastated their worlds. Despite their best efforts though, they knew it would never be like it once was. A couple months to the day after Briggs left, Fran gave birth to a healthy baby girl she named Stephanie, in honor of her father. Time seemed to move faster with every passing day, and before they knew it, Stephanie was celebrating her first birthday. Life went on. They planted gardens, hunted and fished for their food. More children would be born over the next couple of years, each one a little miracle, and each one raising the question, were any of them really free of the virus, or was it just waiting to rear its ugly head once more. Though life went on, it was hard for any of them to forget Briggs' last words before she departed.

"This isn't over, you'll see us again."

Fin.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who actually stuck with this story all the way from beginning to end, and thanks to all you who took the time to write a review, it was all heartily appreciated. When I started this thing I had no idea where it was going to lead, or how long it would end up being, but it's been fun to write. There will be some sequels to this, I have one in the works involving Briggs and the strike force she left on which will become tied in with Land of the Dead. Another one I have planned will come back to the island and catch up on what happened to those who stayed behind and whether or not they ever left it, as well as tie-in a little bit with Day of the Dead.