"That's the spirit. We doctor types love hearing that."

"Okay," he grinned ruefully, "you win. So tell me something, Doc."

"What?" Rachel studied the fingers, trying to decide if a splint was in order.

"How the hell are they so strong?" He frowned in obvious memory of the fight. "I remember you warning they might be. Then I remembered how the first one I fought was tough but I never really gave it a chance to show its stuff. But the second was definitely in my league power wise. And this last one... Holy shit! I thought I was fighting a bear or something."

"Yeah," she nodded and decided to settle for just wrapping the two fingers together. "I've got a theory about that. Since this stuff is hijacking these corpse's nervous systems, the usual safeguards aren't in place."

"Usual safeguards?"

"Uh huh." Rachel picked a strip of rag and started to wrap the two fingers. "We only use a certain percentage of our muscles potential strength. It's like a throttle built in to our endocrine and nervous systems to keep us from injuring our muscles and joints. But I don't think these things have that. I think they are using what muscle they have left at close to a hundred percent. And the percentage probably gets closer to a hundred percent as they feed."

"Damn," Harley breathed in dismay.

"Yeah," she warned, "and if the same holds true for that monster that used to be Buddha Boy-and I'm betting it does-then you absolutely do not want to get into a tussle with it. It tore Gerald's head off with one hand."

"Right," He watched her wrap his fingers for a second then turned his head towards Marisa. "Marisa, did you happen to get a fix on where Buddha Boy was."

"You told me to, didn't you," she replied shortly. "At the moment he's over on the store side of the parking lot."

"At the moment?"

"Yeah," she finally settled for hanging her umbrella from a hook above the grill. "All the others have pretty much gone to just standing around out there. But that one walks around."

"Yeah," he sighed, "I noticed."

"I also did it like you told me to for out back," she continued. "There are four of them back there, all just standing there too. One of them is standing only a few feet from the breakers, so he's going to be a problem. Or at least he was. One is out past him between the cornfield and the diner. One is by the lightpole off to the right between here and the trucks. And one is standing back there near the shower rooms. Oh, and there is one crawling around in front of the trucks. I'm not sure what's up with it, but its legs don't seem to work and it doesn't look like a threat."

Harley started to speak but she held up a hand and continued.

"I checked from both ends of the roof, like you said, so I would have different angles and there would be less area out of my view. And also like you said, I made note of any areas outside my view. The one area I couldn't totally make out was behind the dumpster enclosure. There could be a zombie behind it, but if there is, it is either right up against the fence or really short."

Rachel watched Harley nod as he took all this in, and remembered him coaching the girl before sending her up there. The veterinarian had insisted on treating his wounds before letting him run off up to the roof, so he had instructed Marisa in what he wanted done and sent her ahead.

It was just as well he did because an ugly situation had been brewing and Marisa had been right in the middle of it.

Marisa had been furious at Deke about the glow stick incident and had been dressing him down righteously over it. The boy took it in hang dog fashion, but it got to the point Stacey had come to his defense. Then, when Harley's plan and the reason behind it had been revealed, it was Stacey's turn to get mad about being kept in the dark. She pointed out Deke wouldn't have even been trying to find Gladys's purse if they hadn't been sent on an errand just to keep them busy.

And everybody remembered whose decision that had been.

Since that had resulted in all of them looking at her, Rachel had chosen to try and cut the impending fracas short. She could tell everybody was exhausted and reaching their snapping point. With tempers fraying, she decided to take no chance of making things worse by offering a defense that might be taken the wrong way.

Instead of attempting to explain how she had been worried about dumping more stress on Stacey, she simply went straight to taking complete blame for the fiasco, offering a full on apology for underestimating them both and promising she would not leave them out of anything again.

The unqualified apology had surprised and mollified Stacey and Deke, but she could still see Marisa fuming and sending dire looks in Deke's direction.

That's when Harley told Marisa he needed her to cover for him and go to the roof while he got tended to. The volcanic glare the raven-haired waitress had fixed on him left no doubt she suspected she was being sent out to cool down, but since it really needed to be done she hadn't objected. Rachel also had a hunch the girl didn't protest because it gave her a graceful way to de-escalate in her own way.

Now as Marisa made her report, it was obvious her main focus was on it being understood that she had done the job right as opposed to carrying on a grudge with Deke.

"Thanks, Marisa," Harley winced as he started to pull his shirt back on. "It's important to get good info on what's going on out there even if Plan B is cancelled."

"Good. It was a stupid plan. It would have only gotten you killed," the waitress grouched. Her mood mustn't have improved all that much, even if she weren't directing her ire at the younger redneck.

Still, Rachel found herself forced to agree with the young woman's blunt assessment. It had been a plan borne of desperation, and it was probably just as well it hadn't been attempted.

But it also left them back at square one...in a truck stop that the dead had now breached, and some or all of them possibly infected with the fungus. Up the creek without a single paddle in sight. So although the plan had probably not been practical in the first place, it still felt like a blow to have lost the ability to even attempt it.

Apparently Stacey hadn't gotten the memo.

"But, the truck part..." she looked at Harley. "That part would have worked, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you could have gotten to the truck you would have actually been able to drive it, and we would have really been able to get on it from the roof?"

"Yeah. Tom says it has a ten speed manual. I can handle one of those. I would just have to be careful to remember the length of the trailer. The roof part would be a cinch. There's a couple of long folding tables in the storeroom, and they would make easy bridges."

"But it doesn't matter," Marisa cut in. "That truck may as well be a thousand miles away. Harley can't get to it. Even if his hand wasn't hurt, and he didn't get killed trying to cut the power to the line, I don't think he could have made it."

"Well, no," the smaller waitress agreed. "But what if somebody drove him up to the truck? He could get into it then before the zombies got him, right?"

"Sure!" Marisa snorted. "And since we're daydreaming here, they can serve him coffee and waffles on the trip!"

"I like coffee and waffles," Harley mused aloud.

"Well be sure and order them with your dream car," Marisa snapped, "because all the real ones are surrounded by zombies, remember?"

"Not all of them."

Now all eyes really did turn on Stacey.

"What do you mean, Stacey?" Harley leaned forward intently, "I've studied all the cars. The only one that was even possible to get to was Gerald's, and now it's gone. We're cut off from all of them."

"What about the one in the shop?"

For a second they all looked at her blankly. Then Marisa gasped and Harley did a quick look from Stacey to her.

"The shop?" he asked.

"Yes!" Marisa came alive, "Oh shit, yes! Arnold was working on a car in the shop! And there's almost no zombies between us and there! Stacey, you're a genius!"

The room came alive with excited chatter.

Rachel felt a surge of excitement as well, but she also remembered the haunted look Stacey had assumed earlier when the topic of the shop came up. Whatever the situation was back there, it couldn't be good.

"Okay," the veterinarian cautioned. "Hold on a second. Stacey? If they were working on the car, how do you know it would be running?"

"Because they were done, Doc. I know because the car was off the rack, and the hood was closed. And..." the girl went slightly pale again, "...Arnold's red toolbox was closed. I remember because...because Leon's head was lying right next to it."

That calmed things down a bit.

"Mierde," Marisa closed her eyes. "They must have been cleaning up to go home when these damn things hit."

"Probably," Stacey started to look tearful. "Oh God, those poor guys. They were almost out of there."

"But, the keys." Harley interrupted. "What about the keys to this car? Where would they be?"

Stacey and Marisa looked at each other, and Rachel could tell they both knew the answer and didn't really like it.

"They would be in Arnold's pocket," Marisa answered. "He always pulled whatever car he was working on out into the parking lot before leaving, just in case a truck came in needing repairs later."

"So the keys are there," Harley pulled a toothpick and started chewing it, "that's good. That's very good."

Rachel worried that desperation might still be forcing his hand, and tried to bring things back down to earth.

"Okay," she reminded them, "but even if they're there, there's also enough zombies to kill and devour three men in there with them. I don't see how this is any better than the cars out front."

"No," Stacey replied, emphatically shaking her head. "Most of them chased me. When I looked back I saw them pouring out both doors...from the mechanic's shop and the showers. All the ones from the trucks went to Gladys's side of the building. If there's any left in there, it's probably only one or two."

"Just like the ones in the store when those cops showed up," Harley muttered. "They go for the kill even when they've got a dead victim right at their feet."

"That's not a surprise," Rachel mused. "It's a hunting strategy that makes sense at their level. Their victims aren't going anywhere, so chase the fresh meat.

"And we've got a gun now!" Marisa chimed in. "So if there is one or two left...no problem! I'm betting you're a pretty good shot, aren't you, Harley?"

"Pretty good," the man nodded absently, still chewing the toothpick, "but there's only five bullets left. And it's a snub nose. Not good for the kind of accurate shooting these things require unless they're close. So we can't afford to get too cocky."

"Right," the waitress nodded, all business now. "You carry the gun, I'll go with the bat."

Harley didn't look happy about that last part, but didn't object. Rachel guessed he had finally given up on dissuading Marisa from accompanying him on these kinds of things. He just sighed and then gestured at her rain gear.

"You're going to have to leave that stuff behind," he said. "It's too brightly colored, and it will slow you down. I guess you can loan them to Doc and Stacey while they're up on the roof."

"Right."

Rachel looked at the two in dismay, shocked at how fast this was developing.

"Wait a minute!" she interjected. "You two aren't seriously talking about going out there."

"Yep," Harley readjusted the hat on his head and nodded towards the time clock. "And we're going to do it real soon. It's five thirty, Doc. We're running out of darkness, and we don't know how much longer it will rain. We need to get everybody and everything ready and up on the roof. I'll go get those tables up through the hatch. Get your patient here...err, Benny...ready to move, and I'll be back to help you guys with him in a minute. Oh, one other thing..."

"What's that?" Rachel asked.

"We're not going to be able to get to your truck...and for reasons I won't go into right now, getting to your office in Masonfield is pretty much out of the question too. Is there anywhere...anywhere...else we can get this medicine you want? Remember, under these circumstances anything goes, so breaking in to get it is fine. Think hard."

Rachel nodded, and desperately searched her memory of the area. A few seconds later the answer came.

"Yeah!" she nodded. "If you go about fifteen miles up the highway, right over the county line and take a right at the cutoff to Lake Cowell, there's a large rural vet clinic and feed store about three miles further down the road. Doc Cummings place. He has a large practice so he's probably even better stocked than I am."

"Good, we now have a destination. We'll stop at the rest area to get ya'll off the trailer and into the car with Marisa, then we'll head straight there. Deke, I want you to run back into the store and scrounge up some cigarette lighters, flashlights, and all the batteries you can throw into a shopping bag. We don't know how much longer the power is going to hold, wherever we go. Let's go."

"Now?" Deke asked as he stood up.

"Now," Harley confirmed. "And while you're at it, grab some more of those glow sticks real quick. When you're up on the roof, I want you to light them and toss them out towards the corner of the highway and the county road. Try and make them skip a time or two. Maybe you can draw these bastards further away from both the truck and the back, and give us a better head start.

"You got it."

Deke and Stacey hustled out of the room.

"Hey," Grandpa Tom pulled himself to his feet, then tossed Harley a set of keys. He still looked pale, but had definitely improved over the past couple of hours. "It's the key with the big plastic head. It has power locks, so just push the button on the key ring before getting out of the car to unlock the doors."

"Thanks," Harley caught them out of the air and pushed them into his pocket. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Don't scratch my truck."

"Right."

The old man gave him the eye for a second, then gave an approving nod.

"Good luck, son. Don't get eaten."

Rachel watched the sick trucker hobble down the hall, leaving her alone with Harley and Marisa. Things were happening too fast for her. Just a couple of minutes ago they had been getting ready to accept having to spend the day hiding out in the kitchen and hoping for the best. Now they were about to be going up on the roof to wait for rescue...

...or watch Harley and Marisa die horribly in the parking lot below them.

Suddenly the pair looked very young to her. Every instinct she had screamed they shouldn't be doing this.

Yet she knew they were right. They just couldn't spend the day sitting back here and waiting to see if they would die or not. Holing up might be a legitimate survival strategy, but it required them finding a viable place to do so and preferably after obtaining the antifungal medication. The Textro, with its plate glass windows and zombie infested diner simply wasn't it. Besides, sooner or later the utilities were going to die and they would be trapped in pitch blackness amid spoiling food and no running water.

They had to do this. And the only way she could help was do her job as well.

"Okay," she sighed. "Marisa, Stacey told me there were some plastic tablecloths somewhere the Textro used for special dinners and such. Let's get one of those and wrap Benny here in it. That way we can at least keep him mostly dry up there. Then I guess you two can go save the day."

Resurgence Marisa.

"Are you okay?"

Marisa nodded her head in the now darkened hallway, fully aware of how silly it was. She didn't trust herself to speak yet. Stacey and Deke's footsteps still sounded on the ladder up to the roof. Only after hearing the thud of the roof hatch closing, did the young woman finally allow herself a vocal exhale. She felt sure it's shakiness wasn't lost on Harley's ears.

She had been okay, and working herself up to slide out the back door after Harley once they opened it, but had gotten interrupted. Stacey had come rushing tearfully back down from the roof to hug her and wish her luck. The anguish in the gesture affected the young woman deeply, and almost brought her to tears herself. Marisa would have just preferred that Stacey's "wishing her luck" didn't feel so much like her saying goodbye. All she could do was hug the smaller girl back, promise her she would be fine, and not tell her what she was really thinking.

You're my best friend, Stacey, and I love you like the sister I once lost. I'll be damned before I do nothing and let you die too.

Instead she had finally handed the weeping girl back to Deke with the stern warning to look after her, and sent the two back to the roof. Knowing the boy had endured the agony of climbing down the ladder again with his injured shoulder to accompany her reassured Marisa his feelings for Stacey were genuine. She just hoped he got his act together fast enough to live up to the rest of the job.