Waves lap at the shore and gulls cry out loudly, riding the wind currents that make her hair fly about her head. Pebbles shifting under her feet she turns, shielding her eyes from the hazy sun as she stares across the beach.

A middle aged man was standing not too far from her, watching the seagulls swooping overhead. He looks confused and as she decides to walk in his direction he begins digging into his pockets.

"Hi."

Startled, he shoots his head up, wobbling on the stones underfoot. "Jesus! You scared the life outta me!"

"Sorry."

"It's ok...have - have we met before?" He looks at her closely, stalling for a moment from searching his pockets.

Claire shrugs. "I don't think so. Are you looking for something?" She narrows her eyes at him, looking over his features more carefully. He was in his fifties, balding and had a cheerful, scatterbrained air about him. Maybe there was something familiar about him...

"Yes, this!" He exclaims happily, pulling out a small envelope from his back pocket. Claire peers closer at the handwriting scrawled on the front.

Dear Thomas,

Don't open this until you feel you absolutely have to. Thanks for all the faithful years.

Z.

"Who's Zee?"

Thomas shakes his head. "I dunno...but I think that's ok, don't you?"

She did. Claire didn't know why but she felt that everything was perfectly fine. They were safe here, meant to be here. The blankness of her past doesn't trouble her, just as it doesn't bother Thomas. Wherever they are is exactly where they should be and over there, across the sea, was not.

The balding man in the suit and the teenage girl walk from the beach to the pretty town beyond, greeting others that they pass warmly. Reaching the right house they're met by a boy, solemn and quite. He smiles in greeting at Claire and she looks away, surprised.

"Welcome to Zoar. I'm Jesse Turner."

"Bastards!"

The bullet is expelled from the barrel with a massive force, sending shock waves through her body. Before it had sickened her, made her feel frightened of it but now she rides those waves. But never gladly, she had to do this to survive.

The croat howls as his foot is blown off and falls to the floor. The others crowd around him, watching as he dies. They were awful things, viscous and merciless but sometimes she wonders if there is some humanity in there. They don't attack their own.

Bullets fly past her head, deafening and Amelia hits the ground, crawling to the wall and away from the line of fire. She had been driving through the city when she had been ambushed, the croats sniffing out new blood. She had managed to get out alive but her makeshift home was now being hammered by gun fire. She watches as they cram inside the caravan, away from the bullets.

Soldiers laugh at this mindless act and slam the door behind them, jamming it closed and set the van on fire. It shakes, the windows shatter and the gunfire begins again. Amelia keeps herself to the shadows, careful not to be noticed by the soldiers and hastily makes her way out of the city. If she was caught they would asses her for infection and if found clean she would be moved into quarantine. It had happened to her before and it was not something she wanted to repeat.

She needed to be out here, on the road, looking for Claire.

It starts to rain lightly as she walks down the highway and out into the countryside. All the cars in the city had been torched and it would be hours, maybe days before anyone would pass her by. And then there would be no chance of anyone stopping. Seeing a farmhouse up in the tree-line she vaults over a fence, ignoring the no trespassing sign.

"It's empty."

"Shit!" Amelia spins around, hand reaching for her gun. A man was getting out of a car, decked out in a long black coat and a wholly hat. He looked a little worse for wear, eyes red rimmed and he clearly hadn't had a shave in a few days. Amelia looks up and down the four interconnecting roads. They were empty.

"Didn't mean to startle you." He holds out his hand, offering to help her over the fence. He smiles roguishly. "Come on, I won't bite." Amelia ignores him and climbs over, keeping her distance.

"I didn't hear you coming."

"Guess you weren't listening. I've raided what food they had in the house. I'm willing to share." He smiles again and jerks back to the car. "Where are you headed?"

Amelia stares at him and can't shake the feeling that she knows him. He rather ordinary looking, easily forgotten but still the familiarity needles her.

"I don't actually know. I'm looking for someone, more then one...why would you share your food with me?" She gazes at him suspiciously and he grabs at his chest, mock wounded.

"The world has gone to hell in a hand basket my love but that doesn't mean we have to act like savages does it? There has to be some difference between us and them." He gets into the driving seat and opens the passenger side door. "Coming?"

"I dunno..." She stands undecided, looks back at the house.

"You're not my type if that's what you're worried about? Suit yourself." He moves to close the door but Amelia darts forward with a silent curse and gets in.

"...Thank you."

"Lovely, off we go then."

"You're from England?"

He puffs out a long breath. "I was, a long, long time ago now. Hated the place then...but still got the accent, guess that means something at least."

As the hours pass Amelia begins to grow more at ease but never lets her guard down. Something about him is a little...strange. But anyone who wasn't screwed up now would be seen as more then strange. It was expected. She lets him do most of the talking which he seems to enjoy. He was once a great man, powerful and boasts about it without impunity. Now he's reduced to living out of his car, like a fugitive.

"Difference between you and me is that you're running towards something."

"And who are you running away from?"

"The big bad wolf." Fear flashes across his face subtly but it disappears when he suddenly brings out a gun from the glove compartment. "But I've got this beauty." He kisses the barrel and puts it away again. Bemused at this odd man Amelia stares through the dusky light and sees ripples of water through the trees. She sits up in her seat.

"There's a lake, over there."

"I know, it's Lake Chitaque. There's a camp there."

"Is it safe?"

"Oh yes, tighter then a nun's fanny that place." Amelia glares at him in disgust as he laughs, pulling up the car. Trees frame a short road that leads to the entrance gate. Amelia gets out and bends down to peer inside when he doesn't move.

"You're not coming?"

"No, but I'll be around. It's been a pleasure Mrs Novak...tell him Crowley says hello."

Amelia frowns. "What? Who?"

"You'll know. See ya." He pulls away sharply, making her jump back. She watches him disappear through the trees before turning and walking toward the camp. Chink fence blocks her path and she stares up to see cameras pointed at her. Weary she moves into the trees, looking for another way in. Through the fence she can see a rusted car nestled in the grass. Tilting her head she spots that the fence is loose and she tugs at it.

"Don't move. Put your hands where I can see them."

Amelia freezes and then puts up her hands slowly, her heart beating violently as she turns. A woman has a rifle pointed at her chest and Amelia knows that she won't hesitate to shoot her.

"I'm clean. I just need somewhere to stay for the night."

The woman sneers, unimpressed. "Would you like it if I snuck in through your back door?"

"No, god, I'm sorry. I wasn't sure if this was an army base or not. A guy dropped me off here, he said it was safe."

"What guy?" The gun hovers over her face and then back down.

"Crowley, he called himself Crowley."

"What?" This belongs to another voice and Amelia becomes aware they're not alone. A grizzled man in a wheelchair rolls up fiercely and moves himself directly in front of Amelia. "What did you say?"

Oh god...wishing that she had just waited at the front gate Amelia describes her journey here and who she travelled with. The man narrows his eyes at her and with a flick of his head Amelia finds herself restrained.

"Hey! Get off me!" She watches appalled as a ring of salt is sprinkled around her and the man in the wheelchair starts to chant. Amelia suddenly has vivid images of her husband frantically throwing salt around and her struggles to get past him. She gapes as the man finishes.

"She's clean. Risa, put down the damn gun." She does, smiling fleetingly in what Amelia takes as an apology. The others around her relax visibly and move off into the camp.

"You - you thought I was a demon?"

"You know about demons?" Risa's brows lift in surprise.

More then you know...Pushing away memories of her possession she nods, clearing her throat. "Unfortunately...oh shit, I'm an idiot." It dawns on her, bright and sharp. "He picked me up at a crossroads."

"Well all I can say is that you're a very lucky woman...but he must have brought you here for a reason." He wheels himself into the camp, Amelia and Risa flanking him. Cabins are dotted here and there and people mill around. Children play in the trees.

"I don't know why. I told him that I'm searching for my daughter..." A gong sounds and echoes around them and people begin to head in one direction.

"Dinner. You coming Bobby?"

"No, I'll catch you up. Gonna talk to Dean first." He stares at Amelia, "he'll want to talk to you after you've eaten."

Dean? Amelia nods and follows Risa towards a large tent and joins the queue. She and the woman begin a tentative discussion as they sit and eat. Being held at gun point was not the most subtle of ice breakers.

"I'm sorry about that. It's procedure."

"I understand, I would have done the same." Amelia cuts up her salted beef with a small smile. "How long has the camp been in operation?"

"Well it used to be a summer camp, for the kids. I used to work here...me and Yeager set it up when Florida got nuked. He's over there. " Amelia turns to see a man by the tent, he had been dishing out the food. Risa pushes her plate away. "Since then we've gathered a few people...if you're gonna stay here you'll have to chip in."

"Of course, like what?"

"Distributing water for now." They move to a pipe in the ground and Risa turns the tap. "Damn, the water containers are over there." She jerks her chin towards a cabin in the distance. Amelia agrees to gather them. For the first time in over a year she was preoccupied with something other then self survival. She had been so alone, learned to regard large crowds of people as dangerous. This was welcomed.

Don't get attached, you're not staying...

She reaches the cabin but doesn't see any water bottles. But a sign points to drinking water so she was in the right place. She climbs the stairs and stops at the beaded curtain that hangs in the doorway. She hears voices beyond, giggles. She tries not to inhale too deeply, the fumes of weed make her head feel woozy. There must be potheads in there...

"Hello? I uh, I need the bottles for the water?"

A voice, female, floats out. "Come in, they're just by the door." More laughter, deep and masculine this time, rumble as she passes through the beads. The room beyond is hazy and dim, a few candles burning and the smell of marijuana is overpowering. Her eyes sweep over the floor to a bed where a man and woman lay. She looks away, embarrassed and heads towards the bottles that lay in a pile which she quickly gathers up.

"Don't be shy. You can join us if you like?" His voice, sluggish and stoned, makes her stomach drop away and she freezes. Her neck feels stiff as she lifts her head up to stare at them again. He appears half asleep, his hair tasselled, as is the woman's lying beside him.

"Jimmy?" She doesn't notice the bottles that slide out of her arms to bounce to the floor, her whole focus is on him, lying half naked under a blanket. It was him, her husband.

"Who?" Amelia's eyes shift to the woman who smiles a peaceful Buddha smile and knows the drugs did not result in that. He rises up on an elbow, eyes squinted in confusion. But as they begin to clear Amelia finds that she can move again. Bottles scatter across the floor as she makes her escape, her mind blaring and reeling. As she bursts through the curtain she sees him peripherally throwing the covers back and jump out of the bed.

"Amelia!"