Hello all~ Hope you're all still intrigued by this story even though I'm horrible at updates. x_x. Thanks for the reviews and the favorites/alerts, as well as the views! Holy Christ in a hand basket! Thanks guys! And enjoy this chapter!


The familiar pain had come back into Isabelle's injured leg.

The sudden memory of how it became messed up entered her mind as she repositioned her footing in order to relieve some of the discomfort.

She shoved one of the infected back, causing it to lose its balance before she shot it in the chest. The creature gave a shrill cry before falling back into the dirty murky depths of the waist high water. Isabelle couldn't help but notice the Black Sabbath t-shirt on said creature, nor could she disregard the messy bed of dark hair nestled upon its head. It had once been a normal teenage boy, and from the way he was clothed, she assumed that he was one of the doomed passengers that had been aboard the plane.

God, how could this have happened?

Isabelle looked away and focused her attention back to the tail of the plane where Jessi had dived under. She suddenly made up her mind and began sloshing through the water in order to reach the tail end.

The creature had suddenly risen from the depths before slamming itself into Isabelle's side, knocking her over as they both fell into the murky water. The gun fell out of her hands and disappeared beneath the surface and out of her reach. She then felt the boy sink its teeth into the exposed flesh of her arm just as she had tried to push it back. Her head rose above the water as she inhaled a generous gulp of fresh air, while momentarily ignoring the fact that the infected's teeth were still clamped down upon her arm.

Isabelle let out a small cry as it seemed to tighten its hold, almost as if not wanting to release her. With her left shoulder still searing in pain she used her palm to shove the creature's head back, and with a sickening crack she found that she had broken its neck. The decaying teeth had come off with ease despite it having a strong hold.

She then looked down and observed the bite mark left upon her skin. It was oozing a fair amount of blood and from the looks of it; the teeth had scraped off some of the skin, exposing the glistening, crimson meat from beneath.

The paramedic had suddenly turned her attention back towards the plane; the remembrance of both Jessi and Ellis plagued her mind. She began wading through the waters once more, but found herself stopping in her tracks.

The barrel of a shotgun pressed itself against the nape of her neck, "Nice bite you got there."

Isabelle's arms slowly went upwards in surrender, "I'm immune."

"Are you now?" She knew that it wasn't one of her fellow survivors. "I've come across your kind before."

"And what exactly is my kind?" She couldn't help the retort, this man was sounding almost too sure of himself, as though he held her life in his hands. Although it was true. Isabelle felt the barrel of her shotgun move from the nape of her neck, and down towards her mid-back before she heard him sliding the pump back.

"Carriers," she noticed the contempt in his tone. "Carrying the damn virus and not giving two-shits who you infect with it."

"Your accent," Isabelle noted as she chose to ignore his statement. "You're not from around here, are you?"

She heard him click his tongue as her blue eyes shifted to the corner of her eye, awaiting his response.

"I'm from Nevada. Las Vegas to be exact."

"I don't really care; I just noticed the lack of the southern accent is all."

She was forced onto her knees and back into the dirty water. The water splashed against her neck while she felt the guy stick the barrel of the shotgun against the back of her skull. It was as if he was provoking her to continue, so that he would have a reason to kill her.

"You have a real nice mouth. Maybe I should show you how to use it."

"No thanks," she smirked despite knowing that this dipshit held her life in his filthy hands. "If I don't use my mouth on my husband, what makes you think it's going on you?"

"Oh, well we won't worry about that then." He placed his finger back on the trigger. "You won't be alive to use it ever again."


Ellis had a good plan.

At least he believed he did, Jessi however, wasn't too keen on it since it would involve him using himself as bait.

"He's 'bout to shoot Izzy, we gotta do somethin'."

"Yes, I'm aware of that," Jessi responded. "But risking a shotgun blast is suicide."

"The others went up ahead," he remarked. "We're all she's got."

"Where on earth did that guy come from?" She asked.

They watched from underneath the tail of the plane, both out of the man's sight but they still had a good visual on him and Isabelle. They could tell that the guy was nervous from the way he was holding Isabelle's gun. He wasn't aligned correctly, and if he did decide to shoot, he would throw out his shoulder.

Jessi turned to Ellis while making sure to keep her voice low, "Can you shoot him from here?"

"I sure as hell will," he sounded so sure and right about now she wasn't going to doubt him. "He just needs ta' give me an openin'."

His hands gripped the sniper rifle they had found on one of the grassy plains in the swamp.

"I know who you are," Her attention snapped back to the guy just as Ellis's face fell into one of his rare expressions of anger. The man that was holding the gun to Isabelle's susceptible back was a kind of man that seemed like he was mentally dangerous. Both Ellis and Jessi held their breaths as the man reached forward and smoothed the hair that had clung to Isabelle's face back. Ellis's finger curled around the trigger as soon as Jessi dipped further out of sight. "I'll be damned, if it isn't the broad that screwed me over at a game of poker."

It was then that the paramedic had turned to look over her shoulder, only to be stopped by him shoving the barrel roughly into the small of her back. She bit back a cry while he moved the shotgun up to the back of her head.

She had then rolled her eyes while purposely pressing the back of her skull to the barrel, "What do you have to say now?"

"Nothing much besides that you're a sick vindictive fuck."

"You and your fucking husband cheated me out of a good grand," The man dismissed her rude remark, "Do you know what I had to suffer from the loan sharks because of it?"

Isabelle noticed the lack of gunfire from the rest of the team, even though she knew that he hadn't noticed. "Clyde, I'm sure I have a vauge idea-"

"No, no you don't!" He seethed in anger. "They cut off two of my fingers on my left hand, and stabbed out my left eye!" She could hear the anger in his tone which was also mixed with sorrow of great proportions. Isabelle began to feel remorse for the man, but immediately rejected the feeling and instead reminded herself that he was responsible for Sinclair finding her. And thus, Clyde was responsible for the pain she endured.

"You have no idea, no fucking clue how I suffered!"

"Never trust loan sharks." She remarked before he picked up his foot and thrusted it into her back. Isabelle fell forward into the water just as Clyde cocked the shotgun again.

"Shut up!" He screamed at her, while feeling the angry tremors in his body begin to claim him.

Isabelle picked herself up but was careful to remain on her knees as to not provoke him any further. She slowly looked up at him; no fear filled her face as her deep blue eyes narrowed into slits. "How did you survive the plane crash, Clyde? Because I sure as hell know that your pathetic ass should be dead."

Clyde stopped trembling and instead gazed at her with a surprised expression. "How did you know I was on the plane?"

Her eyes snapped momentarily to the pair before she returned her attention back to him, "You're infected, but you're not a carrier. No, the infection is taking a deliberate amount of time to mutate than normal."

His face quickly warped into a fierce sneer as he pointed the gun at her face, "What do you know?"

"I may be an EMT, but I've had my run-ins with the disease. Most of the cases we-" Isabelle's face faltered slightly at the thought of her partner. "-picked up showed symptoms' of the strand in different ways. One of them didn't physically appear sick but…she managed to somehow bypass us and attack my co-worker…a week after we picked her up from her home."

Clyde's Adam's apple bobbed up and down which gave the indication that he was listening, "This airplane must have went down…two maybe three days ago? That's also from the observation that I picked up on our way past it, the plane's engine was still warm when I touched it. By the way Clyde, you're sweating quite profusely."

Jessi's eyes snapped towards the engine of the plane wondering if Isabelle was telling the truth. If that was the case, then did that mean depending on the person's immune system, the infection could remain dormant and not spread as rapidly as others?

"Screw you! You don't know anything!" Clyde exclaimed while taking a step away from Isabelle. Before the man knew it she had risen to her feet, shoved the gun out of her face, and proceeded to yank the collar of his jacket down.

She raised an eyebrow at her discovery. A large bite mark covered the side of his neck which indicated that he had indeed been bitten. Judging by the dried blood, Isabelle assumed that he was bitten after the plane went down.

This according to Isabelle meant that the infection must have somehow prevented him from staying dead.

Out of blind rage, Clyde moved the barrel of the shotgun back onto her and cocked it before curling his finger around the trigger. Ellis quickly lifted his rifle and aimed it at him, but before either of them could pull the triggers, Clyde had quickly fallen to the side. Dead. With a bullet wound visible on the side of his head.

Isabelle looked over and found Nicolas making his way over to her. He flashed her his trademark smirk before crouching down on his heels and inspecting the "man" he had killed.

"Holy fucking Christ, it's C.J." Nick exclaimed with sarcastic enthusiasm as he used his gun to poke at the body. "What do you think the bastard was doing out here?"

"Who cares," she said. "Where did you come from all of the sudden?"

Nick picked up his head to look at her before standing up straight once again, "I was here the whole time, I was just watching from the sidelines."

"And you decided now would be the perfect opportunity to save me?"

"Uh, yeah. If I were to step out sooner and he were to see me? He would've blasted you away on the dot without hesitation, cupcake."

"He almost did just now," Isabelle shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. "Still, it was ironic seeing him here, down in the south."

Nick used his foot to shove Clyde's body away from the both of them, no longer wanting to see the son of a bitch's twisted face looking up at them. "Not really, he would be the one trying to escape before the infection got anywhere near him. Although, he looks a little different since the last time we saw him."

Isabelle scoffed just as Ellis and Jessi emerged from the other side of the plane. "What was he talkin' 'bout anyways?" Ellis prompted. "He said you guys cheated him at a poker game."

The conman's smirk returned to his face as he elbowed his wife in the chest, "Cheated him." She gave him a glare before he turned his attention back to the southerner. "More like did him a favor. You would think that would've teached him to not be butt-buddies with the sharks."

Nick had then placed an arm around Isabelle's shoulders while forcing her to start walking, "Good ahead and tell them."

She rolled her eyes before opening her mouth, "Clyde Jameson, or C.J. as Nick called him, was a poor soul-"

"Screw that, he wasn't a poor soul," Nick's voice became husky as the trio sensed the resentment lacing his tone. "The bastard was a bastard. That's it."

Isabelle smiled at his answer, considering that she was the only one who understood why he had disagreed. "Anyways, the bastard got caught up relying on his gambling streaks to help him score his drugs."

"A junkie then," Jessi confirmed.

Ellis looked at her as his brow creased at the term she had used, "Junkie?"

"Another term for a drug addict," She stated softly as Ellis nodded and made an 'O' shape with his lips.

"Yeah, well," Isabelle looked up at Nick as he gave a shrug to her unspoken question. "Nick and I had some money issues once, so we had to cheat him out of a game of poker to collect the jackpot. Clyde lost, got angry, threatened to kill me until Nick got him sorted out."

Once they were onto dry land and out of the water, both Jessi and Ellis gazed at Nick with a new perspective on the man. They had both known that he was a dangerous man, but they hadn't known he could be that dangerous. However, they should have guessed that when he casually shot Clyde without hesitation.

Although according to Isabelle, he was already a dead man.

"Wow Nick," Ellis began with that grin of his, "I had no idea you were such a smooth guy!"

Nick shook his head at him with a smirk, "Ellis, be quiet and catch up with the others in the shack. Take Jessi with you."

Jessi didn't argue and instead walked with Ellis towards the shack up ahead while Isabelle dreaded the heated argument that was about to take place between her and Nick. As if on cue he dropped the smirk and turns his attention onto the paramedic, who in turn avoided his fiery gaze.

"What the hell did you mean with all that shit back there?"

His arm remained on her shoulders, which was ironic considering the fact that she was burdened with telling him the truth whether she liked it or not.

"It was true if that's what you're asking."

"So someone who has the infection won't show signs of being infected?"

"Some people, it generally depends on their immune system, meaning that the infection could take longer to mutate." She was calm and to the point, the way she knew Nicolas would understand.

Nick continued to look at her despite Isabelle avoiding his eye contact, "How long does Michael have?"

Isabelle had shrugged his arm off of her shoulders before completely turning away from him. Nick on the other hand was not tolerating it, and instead had grabbed ahold of her arm and forced her to turn back around to look at him.

"Isabelle," he began. "How long does he have?"

"I'm not sure!" She snapped at him. "Days, weeks, I just don't know. I can't call it, Nicolas, it's just speculation."

"What really went on back near the swamp, huh?" He demanded, never releasing her from his steel-like grasp. "Does Michael show signs of turning into one of them?"

"Why are you bringing this up now?" She countered.

"Because I wanna know when I need to shoot the poor bastard whenever he decides to turn," Nick watched as Isabelle's face fell from annoyance to shock. "Not only that, but I'm not gonna let him use us just so he can eventually screw us over."

"He won't do that."

The conman raised an eyebrow at her response, a bit annoyed that she had come to quickly defend the British man. Nick believed that Michael didn't deserve any kind of defending, solely because he couldn't trust him. His sensible side knew that if something went wrong then he would have to be the one held liable.

"You don't know that for sure, he can turn any minute and then what? What if he killed one of us? Would you still defend him then?"

Isabelle had placed her hand over his in order to comfort herself. She felt so torn in between, and so lost at what to do. She didn't want to betray anyone, not Michael and certainly not her husband.

She weighed out the pros and cons in her head, still unsure of what to do. If she told Nick the truth then he would surely put a bullet through Michael's skull without a second thought. But if she didn't tell him, then Michael would turn at any moment and kill one of them eventually.

It was a shame her granddad wasn't here to help her think rationally, somehow Granddad Bill had that special kind of ability to knock some sense into anyone. That was one of things she admired most about him.

She suddenly felt the cool mist of the swamp begin to rest against her clammy skin; it provided an icy feeling, an almost relaxing feeling as she continued to stand there with Nick. It was still the early morning hours although the sun would rise in another couple of hours. The sounds of the swamp life had died down over the course of the horde attack not too long, leaving an eerie quiet presence loom around them.

It was when Nick released her arm that Isabelle felt the sudden urge to tell disclose to him the truth. What encouraged her to do it was the way Nick was looking at her, almost as if reassuring her that he would take care of things if the need for it arises.

"Fine, I'll tell you. Just don't do anything stupid, you always tend to when you get upset."

Nick scoffed at her sarcastic response, "So, what I'm about to hear, I'll get mad you say?"

Isabelle smirked at him, not at all remorseful about revealing to him the big secret she had been keeping. "Absolutely."