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1

She was half-asleep when she stumbled into her kitchen and made a cup of coffee. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she reached for the remote and turned on the TV. The news came on and the almost panicked voice of the news anchor assaulted her ears.

"A mysterious virus has claimed numerous victims in major metropolitan areas this week. New York has counted nearly two thousand victims so far, Boston nearly one thousand and Los Angeles nearly fifteen hundred. No one has been able to identify the cause of these rapid fire deaths but the government has advised that citizens make a special effort to stay indoors and to prepare for anything that may or may not happen."

I have a sudden sense of deja vu... Swine flu any one? Linzie snorted and changed the channel to ESPN, just in time to hear a discussion of post-Cam Newton Auburn Football. Now that was news.

She didn't have time to stay indoors, she had a Fluid Mechanics Final to administer. She could already hear the moans and groans.

But that was okay, just one last final and then she would have the summer to herself. Maybe she could find time to rebuild the '64 GTO Bobcat, that had been sitting in her work-shed for the last year.

Linzie fought the chill that rode down her spine as she walked into her classroom. Half of her future mechanical engineers were missing. It was unusual for students to skip class, but a final? This was definitely worse than the swine flu.

She sighed heavily, and then drawled dryly. "Hey y'all! Where's everyone? They remembered they had a final today, right?"

One of the few students in the class room shrugged. "I know a lot of people's parents pulled them home. This virus is freaking everyone out."

Another student nodded. "I heard the death count is like a couple hundred thousand."

Linzie raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Okay, I guess they fail then. Everyone have pencils, calculators and cheat sheets? Everything else up against the wall. Welcome to your Fluid Mechanics Final, Spring Semester at Auburn University. You can start when everyone has a test sheet. Please remember to show all work. I ain't too good for partial credit."

Skylar did not look good, the blonde boy was just staring down at his paper, and she wasn't sure, but he hadn't moved recently, no writing, no clicking away at his calculator. She rubbed a hand over her face. One hour into the two and a half hour test period and she already had a student that looked like he was going to be sick.

"Doctor Lawrence?"

She looked up at the student two seats to the right of Skylar. "Yeah."

"I think we need a doctor or something. Skylar looks really sick."

She nodded and pulled her cellphone out of her pocket. "I'll call. Go back to your tests everyone."

She called the med clinic on campus and got a busy tone. although not unusual, it did present a problem. Mentally she was debating the merits of calling 9-1-1 for a sick student, when she heard an unhealthy gurgling sound come from behind her. She was dialing for the ambulance even as she turned.

Skylar was standing, the other students looking on wearily as he shuffled out of the row or desks.

"Hey Skylar man... You ok?" John, the student in front of him ventured a worried whisper.

Skylar still hadn't said anything and again he barely reacted, his head down against his chest, lolling off to the side.

Linzie started up the stairs towards him. "Hey kiddo. You ok?"

Skylar lifted his head slowly and she backed up immediately, the scraping sound of desks shoving back, following. His eyes are all wrong. What had once been a pretty blue, were now clouded over and dead. Linzie scrambled back another couple steps and John shoved up from his desk.

Skylar snarled, his throat making a noise that no human should ever be able to make and lunged at the boy below him. John let out a vile scream as Skylar's teeth sunk into his neck.

Linzie made to rush forward but one of her students caught her around the waist and pulled her roughly from the room.

"Fuckin' shit." Linzie threw her old, black jeep into reverse and backed into her garage. she checked the garage to make sure nothing had crept in while she had been away and hit the garage door opener. As the door creaked down, she pulled her small frame Smith and Wesson out of the glove box. It may not a particularly large gun, but anything she hit with it wasn't getting back up. She was going to make sure of it.

She entered her house through a connecting door slowly, utilizing every bit of gun training her father had taught her.

There!

She turned towards the movement and aligned her gun with the target only to sigh and drop the gun. Her bloodhound, Cooper, padding over to her softly whining.

"It's okay, boy, we're gonna beat feet soon, 'kay?" His droopy eyes regarded her silently and she

patted him on the head.

After checking every room in the small house, she flew into a fury of activity; packing coolers full of last season's hunting game: wild turkey from the spring, even some gator from her special birthday hunting trip. She packed the cooler full of ice and duct taped it closed and muscled it out into the back of her jeep. Next she packed all of the other food items in her kitchen, including canned goods, dog food and her tornado season supply of bottled water. Next came clothing, toiletries and what little medicine she had, cleaning supplies, hunting and backpacking gear.

Anything and everything she thought she would need.

Last but certainly not least she unlocked her gun cabinet, loading multiple scoped hunting rifles into a large black gun bag. She made a detour to where she kept her ammunition and loaded that into the bag as well, before taking a large gun case out from under her bed and opening it.

Inside lay a .50 caliber Smith and Wesson revolver, she grabbed the ammo for it and loaded it quickly and shoved a handful in her pockets. Shoving this box with the rest of her ammo, She left her bedroom and made for the garage. Above her front door on a decorative gun rack, sat an old Browning double barrel shotgun she had bought on a whim. She grabbed it and opened the door to her garage, Cooper hot on her heels.

The thing was older than her thirty years and the last time she had tried to fire it, the damn thing had misfired and given her a pretty burn scar on her left hand. But it was heavy and worse come worse, anything she got a solid hit on wouldn't be getting back up.

"Let's get the hell outta here, boy." Cooper hopped into the car and she closed the door behind him. When her own door was closed and locked, her .50 cal on the center console between them, she opened the garage and tore out of her driveway toward I-85.

Toward Atlanta.

She was outside of Newnan, stopped in wall-to-wall traffic, everyone from the smaller surrounding towns and cities fleeing to Atlanta, when an old, faded truck with a chopper propped up in the back, rattled to a stop beside her jeep.

Seated inside were two men, Good Ol' Boys like her Daddy had been, the kind of guys that you wanted to stick to in times like this. It was almost comforting to see if she was honest.

The older one, behind the steering wheel whistled lowly. "Well lookit there, lil' Brother. Can you use that gun, girly?" He nodded at the shotgun on the dash. "Seems like an awful lot of gun for such a tiny scrap of woman, don't it, Daryl?"

'Daryl' nodded, eyes flickering over her nondescript muddy-red hair and blue eyes, but remained silent.

She nodded her head, smirking with just a tad of sarcasm. "Afternoon, boys." Her accent thickened in the face of their country drawls. Like comin' home.

"What about the .50 cal? That's a serious weapon there, girly."

"That's why I bought it." She paused and reached for a pack of cigarettes. Tapping out a Turkish blend Camel, she brought it to her lips and lit it. Exhaling slowly, she continued. "I like knowin' that anything I shoot with it, ain't gettin' back up. Disease or no disease."

The older man laughed uproariously, earning some dirty looks from people in other cars. "Sounds like our kinda woman! Say, what's your name, girly?"

"Linzie Lawrence and this:" She patted her whining dog on the head, "is Cooper. You boys got names?"

"Merle and Daryl Dixon." Merle mock-saluted her and Daryl nodded slightly. "Where you from?"

"Vernon, Alabama."

Daryl's forehead furrowed. "Wasted buncha gas comin' this way then. Shoulda come into Atlanta on 20."

"I live in Auburn. I'm a professor there."

"Professor?" Another scowl. "You a Auburn fan?"

She nodded and took another drag on her cigarette. "You a Georgia fan?" He nodded back and she smiled smugly. "How about this pass year's game, then?"

"Auburn cheated and you know it, buncha thugs, starting fightqs and shit." Daryl was sour.

"Bull shit. Georgia always plays dirty and you know that." She stuck her tongue out and flicked some ashes on the ground. "So where are you boys from?"

"Centralhatchee, Georgia."

She sat up straighter. "Centralhatchee, really?"

Daryl nodded.

"I got family up there! You know Jeremiah Lawrence and-"

Merle let out a sudden crack of laughter. "Boomer? Boomer Lawrence is your kin?" He jabbed a thumb in Daryl's direction. "Daryl 'n that fucker used to run wild together when they were younger."

She grinned. "Yeah, he's my cousin. Do you know how they are?"

"Got the hell outta Dodge soon as we could." Daryl shrugged. "Most people were still tryin' to figure out what was goin' on. Seems you got out early to."

She nodded. "I left as soon as I saw one of my students go at the jugular of another student." She smiled shakily. "Guess the final exam was too much for 'em. You two headin' out to Atlanta, too?"

Merle shrugged, laughing before honking the horn obnoxiously. "Depends on whether this damn fuckin' traffic ever goes anywhere."

She nodded and focused ahead. "Amen to that, brother." There was a sudden flurry of activity up ahead and she blew out a smoke ring idly. "Looks like they're clearing the road."

Daryl nodded and Merle pulled over. Linzie did the same, pulling in behind the brothers' truck. She stepped out of the jeep, stuffing her revolver into her waistline, and let Cooper out behind her, telling him to go to the bathroom. Daryl and Merle met her on the other side of the truck.

"Ya mind Turkish tobacco?" She offered each man a cigarette and then a lighter and turned back to watch the activity up ahead. There seemed to be some sort of fight breaking out, some people were running this way and that. She thought she saw some tell-tale blue flashes and shrugged.

Daryl watched the smoking woman out of the corner of his eye. She was pretty enough, a blue-eyed ginger, freckles and all. She was on the short side, no taller than 5'4" and maybe she carried a bit more weight on her ass and thighs than most women would be comfortable with, but she looked healthy.

A corn-fed Alabama belle, with nicotine stains on her fingers and a whole lotta 'I don't give a fuck' on her face.

Her dog plodded over them and settled himself in between her feet, before regarding them with an almost polite, patient look.

"Nice dawg." Daryl nodded at the large bloodhound. "Well-trained, hasn't made a peep yet."

She smiled and fluffed the dog's ears, warmth leaking into her face for the first time since he met her. "Cooper here has been with me for three years now. He's a good boy."

"He trained to hunt?"

She nodded. "He's trained to track big game mostly. Deer, the occasional hog."

He nodded and focused on the mob that seemed closer and closer each time he looked up. "I don't think they're clearing the road."

Merle nodded. "Me neither."

Linzie pulled out her revolver, checked the chamber out of habit, and pulled back the hammer.

Merle chuckled. "How many times have you smacked yourself in that pretty mouth with that thing?"

She smiled indulgently, having dealt, hell having grown up, with plenty of Merle's ilk. "My daddy taught me my way around guns. I ain't ever smacked myself in the mouth."

Daryl pointed to the burn on her left hand. "What about that?"

She examined the injury and held it up for them to see. "That old double barrel misfired the first time I tried shooting it. My only shooting injury to date." She smiled self-consciously. "Shot detonated in the barrel, had to replace it."

"Ready to fire now?" Daryl looked like he was considering grabbing it as he eyed the road.

"Should be. There's ammo in the black bag on the floor."

"Should be?"

She blew out a smoke-ring and shrugged. "Been a long semester, haven't been able to take it out to a range to test it." She grinned at him, a slow, challenging grin. "If'n you're scared, I can test it out for you."

He shrugged noncommittally; wasn't 'bout scared, you just don't fuck around with guns.

They lapsed into a companionable silence, puffing away on their cigarettes, watching the road. Suddenly the mob became more visible in the jungle of cars. They were advancing steadily and carrying guns, stopping at every car along the way.

"Military." Merle leaned forward, stepping off the jeep they were leaning on. "Are they-"

There were several loud pops and muzzle flashes as the military unloaded into the cars.

Merle nodded to himself. "Yep."

"Time to go, gents. Nice meeting you."

Hell of a time for that stupid old alternator to give out. Linzie leaned her head back against the edge of the open center window and felt Cooper sniff at her hair from his place in the now crowded bed of the truck. Daryl was driving now, winding their way to Atlanta on back roads and county highways.

She was fortunate that they had taken her in when her jeep wouldn't start.

In that quiet way of his, Daryl had immediately gotten out and barked at her to pop the back door. She did so and by the time she had figured out what was going on and had gathered all the shit she had in the front of the jeep, Merle and Daryl had all the rest of her supplies stacked in the bed of the truck and were telling her to: "Git the hell in the truck, Woman!"

She jumped lightly when Merle snored especially loudly.

"What'd you teach?"

She turned towards Daryl, who was regarding her out of the corner of his eye. "Fluid Mechanics and Thermodynamics."

Daryl's eyebrow quirked and he frowned. "Wha'?"

She smirked slightly. "I'm a mechanical engineering professor. Fluid Mechanics and Thermodynamics study the effect engines and machines have on heat and fluids and visa versa. I do most of my research on combustion engines. I was working on synthetic oils and fuel efficiency, hoping to find a lubricant that could make engines more efficient, run cooler, maybe even cleaner." She lit a cigarette and offered him one.

Daryl looked suspicious and puffed on his cigarette. "You one of those tree-huggers? Can't leave well enough alone, want to ruin engines with ya fancy fuels?"

She snorted. "'Fraid not, I just like engines. They don't talk back." She smiled ruefully. "Seems like a waste of time now though...an awfully expensive waste of my time... "

Merle shifted next to her. "Your daddy didn't pay for it?" The was a blatant note of sarcasm to his sleep-rough voice.

"My daddy was a mechanic, made minimum wage just like all the other mechanics in Vernon." She shrugged and puffed away. "Got lucky and got a scholarship for my undergrad, but my master's and doctorate came out of my bank's pocket." She smiled sarcastically. "Upside to the apocalypse: I'm not in debt anymore."

Daryl chuckled.