Chapter 7 The Day is Done

Al stood frozen.

Alicia was flat on the ground and Anne was crouched over her, her back to Al and Isabel. Isabel reacted first; she strode forward, grabbed Anne by her collar, and tossed her aside. While Isabel knelt next to Alicia, Al moved forward, raised her rifle and sighted directly at Anne's chest.

"Don't point your weapon at something you don't intend to shoot," Anne mocked.

"Who says I…" Al's finger moved to the trigger.

"Al! Don't. Please don't. We need her." Isabel was looking at Al pleadingly. Her hands were pressing on Alicia's chest high up near Alicia's right shoulder. And there was blood lots of blood.

"Anne, get the first aid kit from the helicopter," Isabel ordered.

"Yes, sir." Though her tone was still mocking, Anne complied.

Al knelt next to Alicia. She was still conscious and breathing. She blinked and looked at Al.

"I think I understand now," Alicia's voice was soft. "Why she did it. She did what she thought she had to do… for love."

"Love again…" Anne dropped the first aid kit beside Isabel.

Al had had more than enough of this woman. Snatching up the taser off the ground, she jammed it into the closest part of Anne she could reach: her hip near her groin. Anne convulsed and dropped unconscious.

"What?" Al said when Isabel looked at her. "You told me not to shoot her."

Isabel didn't respond. She was pulling bandages from the first aid kit, putting pressure on the wound. "It's a through and through, Al. We have to stop the bleeding."

Spotting the walkie attached to Alicia's belt, Al pulled it free. The volume was set very low, a voice barely distinguishable. Al turned it up.

"… heard shots," Strand's voice was saying. "Alicia, answer me are you there?"

Al depressed the transmit button. "Strand! It's Al. Alicia's been shot. Can you get here, here where the helicopter landed?"

"Christ!" Al could hear the roar of an engine both over the walkie and somewhere close by. "We're almost there. I have June with me."

"Why was she…" Al couldn't continue. Looking down at Alicia she saw the young woman's face was pale, and her eyes were closed. Isabel had removed her jacket and pushed it under Alicia's head and upper body.

"She followed you and we followed her."

A moment later there was a crash of brush and a heavy 4x4 truck plowed into the clearing.

The next few minutes went by in a blur for Al. June took over Alicia's care. Isabel got more medical supplies from the helicopter including an IV bag and line. A couple times Al caught Strand looking curiously at the helicopter, Isabel, and the two people he didn't know: the obviously dead general and the unconscious Anne. When Alicia was loaded in the back of the truck, June looked at Anne.

"Don't worry about her," Isabel said. "We'll take care of her."

June touched Al's arm drawing her attention. "Alicia's stable for now, Al. We need to get her back to the factory."

As he got in the driver's side of the truck, Strand held up his walkie. "We will be in touch?"

Al nodded.

The truck had been gone for a few minutes and Al was putting a bandage on Isabel's head when Anne started to come around.

Al glared at the woman. All she wanted was to punch her.

"You can't, you need me," Anne acknowledged Al's anger. "Tell her why, Isabel."

Isabel gritted her teeth not wanting to reply. Eventually she said to Al: "We need her so we can be together."

Later

It was Anne's plan and it was simple. And, of course, it all depended on Anne.

"They'll believe me," Anne said as they loaded the general's body into the helicopter. Next went Isabel's armoured uniform; it was protocol to not leave it in the field.

"I told them I was suspicious of you," Anne explained. "Why do you think the general was even on this mission?"

Isabel hadn't thought about it. She was just following orders.

"He was sure you had lost your edge because of Beckett. Bet he was surprised," Anne looked at Al, "when he found out it was her. So, he flew this mission with you. Once you were on the ground, I'll tell them, you fought and you killed him. I happened on the scene, shot you, and you stumbled off into the woods. I stripped you, left you for dead knowing you would turn."

"Cold," Al commented.

Anne shrugged. "It's what they expect of me. Maybe now they will have enough proof and I'll go on the mission I really want."

Isabel had finished rummaging through the supplies in the back of the helicopter. She had pulled out some things she wanted including a pair of pants, left other things behind. When the side cowling was closed, Anne got in the pilot's seat.

"You can fly?"

Anne winked at Al as the chopper powered up. "I have many skills."

When the helicopter was gone from their view, Isabel sighed. "I didn't tell her. There really is something wrong with the fuel pump. I loosened the connections before we left the last fuel drop. I didn't have time to tighten it all back up."

"Will she make it?" Al wasn't sure she cared.

"I don't know. Maybe, probably, knowing her. Might be best if she does. They'll accept her story. She can be very convincing. Then she will be off up north where she's been agitating to go. No one will want her around when she tells them what she did to me. Left me to die and turn, half naked in the woods."

Al felt chilled. Taking Isabel's hand was soothing.

Later

It was well after sunset; the sky beyond the barn a deep cobalt blue. Al sat on the steps of the MRAP gazing out the big open window of the barn above the closed door. There was a clanking of a cowbell in the distance. On the way back to the barn she and Isabel had come across a homemade walker trap. A small motor moved steamers around made of foil that flashed in the slightest light. Every second or third turn a part of the moving apparatus contacted a cowbell and a hollow clank sounded. Fresh batteries had gotten it up and running. She and Isabel had dispatched the few dead that had gathered below and out of reach of the device. In the morning they would go out again and take care of any that arrived during the night.

Once at the barn, they had eaten a small meal and washed, Isabel the blood from her hair and neck, Al the mud from her face.

"She's going to be alright," Al set the walkie aside. "Strand just radioed. She's still out, but she's stable."

Isabel sat beside Al on the top step. "And?"

"And they won't say anything about us, about all that," Al waved a hand taking in everything outside the barn. "Strand said it was up to me what I say when, and if, we go back." Al paused for a couple beats before continuing. "I don't want to know anything about all of that right now. About CRM and what they do. It's all just too hard on my head right now."

"OK," Isabel left it at that. She looked away. Her voice when she next spoke was soft. "Why would she do that for me, Al? Take a bullet for me? You, I could maybe…"

Al cut her off. "She did it for us."

Isabel was silent for a moment. Al watched her twisting her long fingers. Finally, she smiled and said, "That's the last thing Anne would have expected."

"She was your lover?"

Isabel let out a small laugh. "Anne doesn't take lovers, she takes prisoners."

"She's oddly," Al tried to find the right word. "Magnetic. When you're up close to her. Not that I ever want to be close to her again."

"Me neither. Especially now that you are here."

They were silent for a time after that. Al felt the tension draining out of her. It was replaced by rippling awareness of the woman beside her. Picking up the bottle she had dug out earlier, Al uncorked it, took a drink. "I was saving this for some time special."

When she handed the bottle off to Isabel, the other woman took a drink. "Not much left. Times must have been very special lately."

"You could say that."

Isabel smiled, soft and gentle, her eyes on Al. It was the same smile Al had seen across a campfire on a mountain somewhere. A look she had craved seeing again.

When the bottle was empty, Al reared back and threw it away. Much as Isabel had thrown away Beckett's cabin key.

"I wanted to be a pirate once, go to sea on a sailing ship. That was lifetime ago. Then I wanted to be a singer; a girl with a guitar."

Isabel looked across the barn, out at the sky. "I wanted to be a poet another lifetime ago. Then I decided I could fly"

She took Al's hand then, and turning it over, kissed the inside of Al's wrist softly.

"You're strong in my blood, hot in my veins

Around you I orbit, caught on your chain

You my earthly bond, my morning sun

My evening moon when the day is done"

The last words hung in the air between them.

"I wrote that a long time ago for someone, anyone, I hoped I could feel that way about. I never found her then. I think I've found her now."

Al said nothing; words didn't come to her. Closing her eyes, she leaned her cheek on Isabel's shoulder. After a moment, Al felt Isabel's hand in her hair then a soft mouth on hers.

The kiss was slow and gentle; full of the same longing as the last time they were together. When they separated, reluctantly, Al smiled at Isabel.

"I've wanted you to do that since… well, the last time you did that."

Isabel smiled gently. "Me too."

Al pushed to her feet, extended a hand to Isabel.

"The day is done. Come lay down beside me."

Isabel took the offered hand.

Epilogue

Alicia came awake slowly. Her shoulder and chest hurt faintly. She looked around; June was dozing in a chair by her bed.

The memories came back to her bit by bit. The helicopter, Al and the woman she had fallen for, Isabel. And there was another woman, Anne, and between them a gun. There had been a loud report and pain and then… And then Anne's face was close, her voice in Alicia's ear.

"Your mother says 'Hi.'"