This Long Silence: Part Six

[dugindeep]

Previous

When Jensen wakes, there’s darkness keeping him from figuring out where he is. He then feels a hard stretch in his neck from where it’s strained over Danneel’s leg, her fingers combing through his hair and her thumb padding just behind his ear. As he comes to fully, he catches slivers of light through the window blinds and from under a closed door. He realizes they’re both on the bench he last saw Jared on, and they’re the only two in the room. He rushes to sit but goes dizzy with it and groans as he leans over his knees.

Last he remembers is trying to keep Jared in the clinic and then standing by Danneel. The Guard, he remembers them, too, and now he can’t imagine anything good taking place while he was out.

“Where’s Jared?” he mumbles as he registers a pounding at the base of his skull.

She scoots next to him and carefully holds the back of his neck as he sways and feels woozy. “They took them to the medical center.”

Jensen runs his hand over the back of his head and feels a small bandage at the source of the ache. The Guard, he thinks, one of those guys knocked him right out, and he gets lightheaded with the frantic worry of what’s really going on.

“Jared and Bethany?” he asks, trying to trigger more of what happened.

“Yeah. They’ll be okay, right?”

He glances over, and the worry in her eyes makes him want to comfort and assure her everything will be fine. But he’s unsettled knowing Jared isn’t under his security and that he has no clue what they’re doing to or for him. It’s just as bad to consider that Bethany could be infected, as if it was from treating Jared.

The door to the room is shut but they can hear the bustling of soldiers and guardsmen on the other side of it. Jensen pats his pockets, but they’re empty. His cell phone and wallet are gone. “We gotta get out of here. We have to get Jared.”

Danneel’s eyes slide over his face. “Why?”

“Because,” he answers simply. “Do you have your cell?”

“No, they took it.”

“Of course.” He stands and inspects the window leading into an alley between the clinic and a used book store.

Danneel makes an odd noise then asks, “What if they’re sick? Miller said it’s contagious and Jared-”

“He’s not,” Jensen insists.

“You don’t know-”

“Dan,” he cuts her off sharply then motions at the small cabinet he’s about to shove out of the way. “Are you helping or what?”

“We’re sneaking out the window?”

Jensen breathes deep then faces her and attempts the most level voice he can with all of the anxiety rumbling in his veins. “I don’t know what’s going on any more than I did yesterday. But I don’t feel good about this. I’d rather know where Jared is. I have to find him.”

She stands and meets him near the window but it’s obvious she’s not with him yet. She’s sympathetic, though, when she says, “Jensen, it’s the Guard. You told Jake to call the Guard and they’re here to help. They’ll fix it. Everyone will be okay.”

“They knocked me out because I was protecting you.”

Her face twists as she considers it, stealing a glance over her shoulder as if she can see through door or is waiting it to open. “You really think they’re doing something wrong?”

“I don’t care how right they might be,” he argues, voice rising. “I’m not sitting here while our friends are out there. What about Bethany? Or Jason, or anyone else we know in this town? They said everyone was in trouble.”

Danneel fully turns to the closed door and then visibly swallows when she faces him again. “Do you think Jason’s okay? Or his family?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles. She doesn’t respond and he has to grab her attention with a hand at her elbow. “I’m not leaving you here while I go find out. Please come with me.”

“What’re we gonna do then? Whatever’s going on outside, we won’t get very far.”

“We have to do something,” he pushes. “Are you up for trusting the people who’re keeping us locked in here?”

There’s a mixture of anger and defeat in her as she sighs and tugs her hair over one shoulder. “Alright. Let’s go.”

He lifts the window slowly, going easy to avoid any noise. She hands him a pair of scissors from a nearby cabinet and he stabs through the screen and tears it open. With her foot in his hands and one on his knee, he helps her up and out of the window, waiting until she’s steady on the other side before he hops up and flips himself over. Holding Danneel’s hand, he pulls her along as he shuffles down the narrow walkway to the other side of the block, away from the front entrance and hopefully away from the soldiers.

They both halt at the sidewalk when they see that the adjacent street is a mass of debris. A few doors to the left, the entrance to the police station is smashed, glass littering the sidewalk and desks overturned. Just ahead of them, Marcie’s second-hand shop is much the same, two window mannequins turned on their sides and clothes strewn on the cement. Every other storefront they can see is much the same.

“When the hell did this happen?” Jensen mumbles, eyes raking up and down the street.

“I don’t know,” she replies, clutching his hand tighter as she rests again him. “It was fine when I came in last night.”

Glass crashes just around the side of the building, and they both flinch back into the alley. Jensen takes a deep breath and slips a few inches forward to peek around edge of Clark’s Hardware and he spots three men fighting each other to grab items from inside. Hammers and crowbars are being shoved into backpacks, and Jensen’s about to join them when Danneel yanks on his hand and motions towards two guardsmen rushing up on the men.

He pulls back against the rough brick façade and taps his head back on it a few times as he thinks quickly. There’s no way they can get to his truck, not without being stopped by the authorities, and he can’t imagine the waste of time walking all the way to his house would be.

After four years in the Army, time spent in a true warzone, he’s lived this situation before. He knows what to do - more importantly, he knows what he’d do in the Guard’s shoes. There’s likely two out on each patrol, a handful keeping watch at the open streetscape of Main. Here on Second Street, there’s this patrol coming through, and he bets there’s another pair a block over on Third.

He’s ready to lead them out of this mess when there’s a low growl off to the right, just around the corner. Danneel tugs on his hand again and shifts him away from the opening, but he has to look. He slips to very edge of the building and finds Jane Barker staring him down.

The forty-something mother of four, a kind woman who knits her own quilts as gifts for the milestones of friends and family, is a shadow of herself. Her hair is damp and hanging in a tangled mess at one shoulder. Her face is scratched up enough that most wouldn’t recognize her. The dirty curl of her bloodied lips tells Jensen more than he wants to know; she’s gone after others and intends to make Jensen and Danneel her next victims.

“Jensen,” Danneel whispers, and her hand clutches Jensen’s in a vice grip.

His mind zips through their alternatives: run back from where they came and be caught by the Guard, deal with quarantine and who knows what else, or face Jane and have some potential to escape. He figures their best bet is to avoid major trauma right here and be faster than the heavily armed men in uniform to race off to another street and grab a ride out of downtown.

Best bet. Definitely, he tells himself.

Just as he steps towards the sidewalk, a shot rings out and a guardsman has his rifle poised for another hit. Danneel yanks Jensen out of the way as Jane Barker stumbles back, and Jensen can see Jane’s been hit in the shoulder, mighty close to her heart. But it’s still beating and she’s still going. She charges the guardsmen, and two other infected residents come into view, jumping out from a storefront a few doors down and following at top speed.

Jensen turns to watch before he considers the consequences. The four healthy men - two guardsmen and two civilians - are no match for three infected who have more energy and little to stop them. Jensen takes the distraction as a blessing and runs across street with Danneel behind him.

They race between Marcie’s shop and the used books store, arms dragging on more brick as they slide through, but they can’t manage to care. When they reach Third Street, there’s another patrol of two uniforms but they’re walking in the opposite direction, and Jensen leads Danneel right, running along the storefronts until they reach the end of the block and slip around the corner. There’s a pale blue Sentra parked by J.D.’s, and he doesn’t bother with knowing the owner or feeling guilty for it; there’s no time. He elbows the driver’s side window, ignores the vibrating pain up to his shoulder, and keeps hitting the glass until it shatters so he can unlock it and get inside.

He reaches over to unlock the passenger side for Danneel and then rips off the under panel. Now that he’s ditching his truck, the keying in his pocket is useless beyond the Swiss Army Knife he’s carried since his time abroad, and he slices plastic and chops wires to spark the right ones together and get the engine revving.

Danneel laughs with anxiety and when he looks to her, she seems horrified despite the crooked smile. “Like old times, huh, Ackles?”

He smirks for a second, his youth creeping up and reminding him of days spent racing across the fields and testing wires on farm equipment with Chris and Steve at his shoulder to teach him. He’s damned grateful for those skills right now, because the engine’s running and he kicks the car into gear. And he’s all too thankful for the fresh breath he takes with his small laugh and the thrill that they’ve got an escape.

The car swings onto the street as he spins the wheel and aims the car towards his house.



Despite the burst of madness they leave behind them, the town becomes more desolate the further they get to the outer limits. Cars are stalled on roadsides, some completely abandoned, and others show a fierce fight has ended with a resident on the ground, bloodied and still.

Morgan Falls has never been a busy metropolis, but the stark image of a deserted town instills fear deep in his gut, but Jensen has to shove it aside.

Danneel remarks on what they pass with dread evident in her voice. He has to ignore her, too, or else his mind will breed more horror.

Get his gun, find Jared, and leave town are fiercely etched into his brain.

Pulling into his drive, he comes to hard stop, and when Danneel doesn’t budge he stares at her. “You’re coming inside.”

She doesn’t look like she’ll argue much on it even as she weakly insists, “No one’s around. Just be quick about it and I’ll be fine.”

With a sharp look, he says, “I’m not leaving you out here.”

She reluctantly nods and follows him inside as he rips crime scene tape from the front door. Up to his bedroom, she stays in the hallway to avoid the sight of the room turned upside down and the blood stains where Hardy landed last night.

He retrieves two of his personal weapons from the back of his closet, both smaller firearms than the one he carries every day, but Abel had taken that with other items from the scene. He checks the cordless phone at the side of his bed but there’s no dial tone, and he swears as he tosses it to the bed.

“No phone?” she asks, looking and sounding scared.

“No phone.”

“What the hell is going on?”

When Jensen faces Danneel, her chest is rising quickly and her eyes are surprisingly narrow. There’s something beyond panic brewing here between the two of them, and Jensen has no answers.

He only wishes he knew what was going on, how it started, and how it will end. There’s the impending worry of the Guard and what else they can carry out. If knocking the Sheriff unconscious wasn’t worth a more than a second’s thought, Jensen fears how far they’ll go to contain this entire mess. The Guard could’ve followed them here, know where they are, and anticipate hauling them … wherever.

Worse yet, he has the nagging, damaging worry that Jared’s stuck in the thick of it. Whether as a victim or otherwise - he can’t manage to consider which - the stress is there all the same, weighing him down. His shoulders slouch as he drops to sit at the edge of his bed.

He’s done this before, he reminds himself; he’s survived uncertainty. Time in the Army served him well in being able to sort emotions from actions. Yet, he recognizes this is all so very different; Jared’s the price here, and the only flag waving for him to charge.

Jensen sucks in deep breaths and thinks aloud, trying like hell to get his head back in the game.

“Miller said they wanted to take Jared to the fairgrounds, so we know where they’re going. We just have to get on the road and start driving.” He looks at her once he’s calmed himself enough to manage direction. “We have to stop worrying about everyone else. We go, we find Jared, and we get the hell out of the state.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he answers simply. Danneel still looks impatient and unsure. “Need I remind you what happened at the clinic with the Guard? Or with Jane Barker? I’m not seeing many options.”

She sighs and steps away, obviously upset by the whole matter. Probably more with Jensen and his certain terms.

Jensen’s ready to talk more on it and comfort her that his plan is the best, but there’s the rumble of an engine outside and they both turn to towards the front of the house. He can’t see anything from his window, and Danneel lets out a nervous noise as they move out to the hallway. They hear the front door slide open and Jensen quickly checks the safety and bullets on one gun then hands it to her despite her nerves. He creeps down the stairs with Danneel one step behind, and sets his gun by feel as he hits the bottom of the stairs. There’s no one in the living room, and with a quick glance around the edge of the wall, he sees the leg of a man taking his last step into the kitchen.

“Stay right with me,” he whispers to Danneel, and she does exactly that.

He holds her hand and aims his gun straight ahead, finger catching the trigger so he’ll only be a half second from firing. Slow, quiet steps carry them to the doorway of the kitchen, and just as Jensen swings into the room, the man jumps at him, arms twisting under and over, yanking Jensen to the stove. Jensen loses the gun and turns to fight him, and Danneel calls out for him as she aims the gun at them, but doesn’t fire as she keeps trying for a clean shot.

They tangle together until Jensen registers the shape of the head, hair, and glasses, and he shouts, “Hey! Stop!” wrapping his hands tight around the guy’s biceps to control him. A second later, Danneel’s yelling and rushing at them as they both realize it’s Jason.

The three hug fiercely until Jensen pulls back and grabs Jason’s neck, inspecting his eyes and mouth and just about anything in view to be convinced that Jason’s healthy.

“Jesus Christ,” Jason breathes out when Jensen releases him.

“You’re okay,” Jensen says, if anything, to remind himself.

Danneel is wrapped around Jason, and he’s holding her back just as tightly, eyes wide and scared. “Yeah, I am. Thanks for not killing me.”

“You don’t even know,” Jensen says tightly.

“What’s the hell’s going on?” Jason asks, seeming lost on what else to say.

“No idea,” Jensen answers. He pats at Jason’s chest then his cheek and smiles; it feels real. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Me too.” Jason’s face twists as he shares a look with Danneel then he looks up to Jensen and reaches for his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Figured you were the best bet right now.” After a moment, he huffs. “What’s is going on in this place?”

“Don’t know,” Danneel says quietly, shifting away from Jason.

“Where the heck have you guys been hiding?” Jason asks as he takes the gun from Danneel’s hand, looks over the barrel, and tests the safety. His skilled hands remind Jensen of Jason’s detailed stories of hunting with his dad through high school. Jensen doubts he’s touched a gun lately, but he’ll be better than Danneel. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you guys for the last two days.”

“We were at the clinic,” Jensen explains calmly. He doesn’t want to alarm Jason, even if he feels better having someone else with them. “And the Guard was there, taking over.”

“The Guard,” Jason parrots. Then, with a strained voice, he goes on. “The Army showed up in the northern fields and my parents were freaked out. They took off with some neighbors this morning.”

“They just left?”

“Yeah, man,” Jason laughs awkwardly. “You think my dad wants to face off with a whole line of guns? They ran off and I said I’d do the same once I found you two.”

“Is anyone else safe?” Danneel asks.

Jason seems hesitant to answer. “I haven’t really seen many people up and kicking. Where’s everyone else at?”

Jensen looks away, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. “The Guard’s got some medical set-up at the fairgrounds.”

“For what?” Jason asks.

“I think it’s a quarantine,” Jensen says. Even though he’s sure that’s what it is, he doesn’t want to believe it.

“Jared and Bethany are there, too,” Danneel says.

Hearing Jared’s name sparks Jensen to action. “We gotta go,” he says, leaving the room before anyone can argue. As Jason and Danneel follow, he can hear them talking about him, Danneel whispering about the Franklins and Sergeant Miller, the attack at Jared’s house, what happened at the clinic, and Jane Barker. Jensen can hear soft mumbles about Jensen dying to find Jared, and Jason sounds confused by it all but doesn’t prod.

When Jensen reaches the front door, he can see a caravan of military vehicles kicking up dust a mile or so out, heading right into town, as another group of vehicles head right out. They watch them pass one another, but soon enough a few more random trucks are heading the same way on a road even closer to Jensen’s house.

He backs away from the door, jogging up the stairs to an abandoned bedroom at the front of the house, and pulls the drape from the window. Danneel and Jason join him and they watch a parade of Jeeps and Humvees trail across the landscape. There’s no way any of the vehicles would turn towards his house, but he exchanges a glance with Jason, and they seem to be in agreement given Jason’s disappointment.

“What?” Danneel asks.

Jensen lets the drape sweep shut and sighs. “We can’t go anywhere yet. If we head out and they see us, we’re done.”

Danneel tries to get Jensen’s attention, but he’s already pacing the room with worry. “We’ll be safe here, right?” she asks.

He throws his hands up with a jerky shrug and Jason slips a hand over her shoulders, pulling her in comfortingly. “Yeah, we’re fine. Right, Jensen,” Jason says with a push. “We’re fine here.”

He stops near the doorway and hesitantly nods. They’ll be safe in his home, he thinks. At least, he hopes they will. Most everything seems focused on Main Street, but right now, he wants to be racing daylight to track Jared.

“We’ll be fine,” Jensen recites then motions at the window. “Soon as that mess clears up, we’ll head out.”

Once they’re in agreement, he leaves the room and halts at the doorway to his bedroom. Blood still stains the wood floor but he feels uncomfortable being anywhere else. He wants the room cleaned so he can settle in and find some peace before he loses his mind.

Jason convinces Jensen to join them in the living room, he and Danneel each taking turns to watch for a clear time to leave as they sit at the couch by the window. Jensen stretches out on the loveseat, plush cushions that hardly see use are comfortable enough for him to sink down and put his feet up on the ottoman.

Time drags on, and Jensen drifts in and out as morning becomes day and afternoon shifts into dusk. When he’s asleep, his mind’s full of half-lit memories and hopeful dreams of finding Jared as soon as they walk out the front door. When he’s not, his heart jackhammers with impatience.

It doesn’t help that from where he sits, he can see through the window that faces Jared’s house and looks right into Jared’s living room with the drapes pulled open. When he tries hard enough, he can follow the outline of a bureau that holds the television he and Jared have spent many hours watching, dropping into Jared’s deep couch, and barely staying quiet through many a movie night.

He shuts his eyes so he doesn’t have to consider how empty Jared’s house is right now. He doesn’t want to contemplate never stepping foot inside it again.



“Wait ‘til you see this thing,” Jared says in greeting, holding the screen door open for Jensen to enter the house.

The only guesses Jensen’s had to Jared’s home have come from quick glances into the foyer the few times he’s been on the front porch and once as he stood right inside waiting for a few eggs he was intending to borrow to fix dinner. He hadn’t expected the rich jewel tones in the living room, blues and reds and golds accenting the hexagonal space. Truth be told, he hadn’t expected much of anything for decoration just two months after Jared moved in, but the inside is surprisingly clean and colorful.

Just as Jensen takes his first steps into the room, Jared spins and smiles as he motions to Jensen’s left. “There she is.”

It’s a tall cabinet, taller than Jared, with delicate etchings in the tall doors. From their shape, brass handles speak of age but also care with how they shine. And the sturdiness and bulk of it fits right in with anything someone like Jared should own.

Jensen starts to smile when he looks to Jared. “You did not.”

Jared threads his fingers together and flexes his arms with a grin. “I sure did.”

With an impressed look, Jensen moves to the cabinet and opens one door, doing his best to hide his own delight as he looks over the empty, treated shelves. This is the most animated he’s seen Jared so far, and the furthest he’s gotten into the home. It only makes him like Jared more, which should be ludicrous with only knowing his neighbor for five weeks.

The inside of the door has been stained, but it’s wearing thin. Jensen drags his fingers over the finish and stops when he feels a rough engraving near a hinge.

“Drove two days to get it back here, but I just had to have it,” Jared smiles. “I had to show it off now that I’ve got it. You laugh at me that I’ll never finish my deck, but I finished this.”

Jensen’s fingers trace the loose shape of Jared’s name with two others, and he looks up to Jared. “Gerry and Jeff?”

“My dad and brother,” he nods in return.

Jensen stands straight and gives Jared a curious look. “You had help?”

“We did it together. The three of us.”

“So, you were the help?” he lightly teases.

Jared pushes at Jensen’s shoulder, though he’s laughing. “You just can’t give me a break, can you?”

“I would if I could,” Jensen offers with a shrug. But then he’s back to admiring the bureau. Even if Jared merely handed over screwdrivers and sorted nails, the piece is a thing of beauty.

When they’re settled on Jared’s furniture - Jensen in the corner of the couch and Jared’s legs stretched far past the edge of the cozy armchair - Jensen runs his thumb over the lip of his glass of lemonade. “How old were you?”

“Fourteen,” Jared nods and smiles softly. “I helped line up the shelving after Jeff and I built the body. My dad mostly worked on the doors and the hinges. He could carve better than anything you’ve ever seen.”

“Could?”

“Can. Still can,” Jared corrects easily. “He’s still around. He just doesn’t do it as much anymore. Maybe a little knick-knack while he’s bored sitting on the porch. Jeff runs the business now, but it’s stuff that’s more common and plain. He looks for quantity these days.”

Jensen knows he’s smiling fondly to Jared’s family stories, and he knows he should probably quit it, but he can’t stop watching Jared easily talk and laugh as he runs about his childhood memories.

“What about you?” Jared asks. “Family? Siblings?”

He stares for a few seconds before he can fashion a response that won’t ruin the mood. “Long stories, the both of them. But it’s just me left in Morgan Falls.” Jared seems ready to ask more, but Jensen cuts him off, asking, “How the heck did you get this thing in here?”

“Very carefully,” Jared laughs. “I still have the TV in the basement to put in and a few other things for the shelves. One day, I’ll get it up here.”

“One day will be next year,” Jensen chuckles. “And the porch won’t be done and the TV will be useless.”

“What’re you saying?” Jared asks with a sharp yet playful look.

He swallows, unsure how long he can stretch this visit, but he’s ready to try. “You want help bringing the TV up?”

“Really?”

“I’d hate to think of you just sitting here staring at the cabinet like it’ll entertain you all by itself.”

Jared rises and smacks Jensen’s knee as he passes. “Shut up, and come help already.”

It takes more time and effort than Jensen had imagined; the TV’s a hell of a lot bigger than he figured, too. Jared’s TV is a 32-inch box set that makes them fight the uneven stairs out of the basement as well as through the thin hallway beside the kitchen. But when it’s set up, Jared insists on snacks and more drinks, so he serves up a big bowl of popcorn and more lemonade.

It’s the simplest of nights, but Jensen gets a kick out of Jared’s easy laughter as they watch mindless sitcom reruns for a few hours, and they both joke at the expense of the storylines and actors.

Before Jensen knows it, darkness has filled the room. The sun has set and Jared must’ve turned the TV off and the lights down. He’s barely aware of Jared tilting his legs up onto the couch before he feels the faintest touch to his hair, and he’s left alone in the room. He blinks up to a ceiling he can’t see and tries to work it all out in his head: if Jared really did just tuck him into the couch and actually comb through his hair.

Ridiculous, no way, he thinks.

When he can get his bearings back, Jensen turns over and slides off the couch, fumbling a step or two as he stands up. He finds Jared in the kitchen and dumbly says, “I fell asleep.”

Jared smirks as he rinses out the bowl they’d used for two bags of popcorn. “That you did.”

“You let me sleep on your couch?”

“Yeah,” he replies, still smiling.

“For how long?”

“Long enough to find it cute that the Sheriff cuddles into himself.”

Jensen sleepily groans and waves a hand out. “No, please, not Sheriff.”

Jared eyes him oddly, stalling from the good-natured ribbing. “Not Sheriff?”

He puts a hand at his stomach and lightly grabs at his shirt to make a point. “When I’m not in uniform, you don’t have to say that.” Jared’s watching intently and Jensen blinks a few times to wake himself even further. He’s nearly berating himself for having this conversation, but at least he can blame his sleepy state. “It’s formal and weird. You don’t have to say it.”

“So, you don’t want to be called Sheriff?”

“Not by you,” he admits before he can take it back. Yet, the way Jared slowly smiles, Jensen figures he’s not too bad off. Jensen runs a hand over his hair, looks down the dark hallway, and then takes a small step away. “I should probably get home to proper bed.”

“Here, let me walk you out,” Jared insists, with a careful hand to Jensen’s back as he heads with him to the front porch. He squeezes at Jensen’s shoulder as they face each other. “Thanks for the help with the TV.”

“And thanks for dinner and all,” he replies lamely.

“Anytime. Though I promise it’ll be more than just Orville and lemonade.”

Jensen smiles, trying like hell not to say anything more stupid than he already has. He salutes as he takes the stairs and keeps on walking across the lawn. He’s focused on not looking back and keeps his eyes to his own home.

Except Jared leaves him with a fond, “Good night, Jensen,” and Jensen just has to glance over his shoulder and meet Jared’s smile.



The second Jason sits up and starts to smile, Jensen doesn’t bother registering Jason’s words and jumps out of his seat and through the front door. He knows they’re good to go, and he rushes to the car. Danneel and Jason shoot him sideways looks, but he ignores them.

They can finally leave, and look for Jared.

They don’t talk as Jensen drives north then west to find a connecting road that’ll keep them out of the major areas of town. It hasn’t been a full day since they left the clinic, but catching the setting sun and getting fresh air from the open windows of the Sentra make it seem like an eternity since being cooped up there. He feels free and ready to escape. Once they find Jared.

It takes nearly an hour to reach Route 40, and they keep going north to the Morgan County Fairgrounds. Danneel picks at a tiny hole at the knee of her jeans as she fidgets between him and Jason in the bench seat. Jason covers her hand to keep her still, and Jensen tightens his hold on the wheel and presses firmly on the gas.

The moment the grounds come into view, Jensen’s filled with panic. There are a half dozen enclosed tents, and the white sheaths that should cover every side are sweeping with the breeze to show the insides are empty. Given how bare the area is, he’s not sure he wants to find Jared here, or anyone else for that matter. The Guard, other infected residents, anyone could be lingering and be a threat. Or dead.

He parks a fifty yards back and the only sounds are their breathing and the whistling wind.

“Where is everyone?” Danneel whispers.

Jensen can’t breathe with the fear overtaking him. The compound is completely abandoned, and even if he knew what kinds of signs to use to track Jared, he wouldn’t know where to start looking. There’s too much to search between these tents and another dozen sheds set up further into the fairgrounds, though most of them seem demolished from attacks, given the odd slants to the structures. Jensen doubts they offer many clues.

He twists to face Jason and Danneel, taking a long moment to think even when he doesn’t expect them to have any answers for him.

“I don’t even know,” Jason says, shaking his head.

“Jensen,” Danneel starts gently. “We should leave.”

His sight goes out of focus as he looks through the windshield.

“Jensen, buddy, come on,” Jason says calmly, like he always has when trying to warn Jensen he’s being stubborn. “This is getting crazy. We shouldn’t hang around any longer. Let’s just head straight out of the county. Or, hell, out of the state.”

With a small shake of his head, he answers, “No.”

“It’s not safe anymore,” she says.

“Then it’s not safe for Jared, either,” Jensen snaps.

Danneel sighs with annoyance but her voice shakes when she says, “We shouldn’t stay any longer than we have to.”

“And Jared should?”

“What happened to him?” Jason asks.

Jensen continues to stare out the glass, eyes going wide with the memory replaying itself. Hardy went at Jared, and given all the time they’ve been separated, Jared could be like all the others. No, Jensen tells himself, shaking his head again. “He’s fine. We just have to find him.”

“Jensen,” Jason says softly, carefully. “Did Jared get hurt?”

He clenches his eyes shut then glances over, eyes not quite making it to either Jason or Danneel. “It was just a scratch. He wasn’t hurt.”

“But he-” Danneel barely gets that out when Jensen cuts her off with a glare.

“He’s fine.”

“He might not be,” Jason says.

“You don’t know that!” After the outburst, Jensen takes a deep breath and turns to the driver’s side window, eyes coasting from the rear view mirror to the tents. “I’m not leaving without him.”

“Jensen,” Danneel tries with care, but he cuts her off again.

“This isn’t up for debate!” he yells, turning towards them. “You wanna leave on your own, then good luck.”

Danneel murmurs, “Just tell us why you,” then stops when Jensen jumps out of the car.

Jensen’s blood boils with their protests, but he ignores them both, marching to the tents and yanking a sheath aside to enter. There are ten or so empty cots, some without bedding, and the ones with are stained with blood. His heart pounds and he feels sweat form at the base of his neck, across his back, and in his palms. He runs from this tent to the next and finds it much the same, and he keeps rushing between them to find nothing left behind but bare tables and soiled cots. He races across the lawn to the upended sheds but finds nothing more than broken wood, hard plastic siding cracked to shreds, and more evidence of wounded people once being here.

He hurries back to the last tent and spins around, trying to log everything in sight. He’s not sure how long he stands here, feeling the quickening pace of his pulse. He wonders what’s left now - when does he give up, when does he accept that he has no clue where Jared is or what’s happening? Instantly, he hates himself for even considering giving up. He pushes the heel of his palm into his forehead then his eye to stop the budding tears.

There’s a light sweeping noise of the side of the tent opening, and Danneel’s voice is even softer when she calls his name.

Jensen shakes his head quickly and faces them, forcing himself to focus. “It hasn’t been a full day since he was taken. They couldn’t’ve gone far.”

Jason starts to argue but Danneel puts a hand to his side to stop him. “Maybe they kept going north?” she offers.

Hope blooms in his heart with her suggestion; she’s on board and she’s going to help. He smiles, no longer caring about the tears in his eyes or that one rolls down his cheek. “Yeah, exactly. If they went south, we would’ve seen them, right?”

After a moment, Jason nods. “It couldn’t hurt. It’s still a way out of town.”

As they walk together through the tents, they hear the crunch of a car driving over gravel.

Jensen and Jason both pull Danneel behind them, and they walk shoulder to shoulder with their guns drawn. At the front tent, Jensen tucks himself at the edge of the opening and nudges the white cover just an inch to see J.D’s truck next to the Sentra. He waits for the man to appear, to make sure he hasn’t gone the way others have in this town.

J.D. strolls around the far side of the blue sedan with a shotgun in hand and eyes focused on the space in front of him. Jensen sighs in relief, because it had to be the same man he’s known all his life.

Jensen slips between the sheaths and carefully says J.D.’s name, which makes him snap to attention with the barrel aimed at Jensen’s head. Jensen holds his palm out and brings his gun down as he murmurs, “Hold up. Don’t shoot.” J.D.’s eyes are wild but not fearsome. Jensen’s sure the man’s nerves are shot, and J.D.’s likely fighting to keep his sanity, just as Jensen was moments ago.

“It’s okay,” Jensen says firmly.

“Are you really you?” he asks slowly.

“Yeah, I am, and I got Danneel and Jason, too,” Jensen adds as he steps closer and pulls Danneel forward with Jason following. He drops his voice to soothe J.D. “We’re all fine. And you look fine, too, right?”

“A lot of folks are going crazy lately. How do I know you three won’t turn?”

Jensen chuckles harshly. “If we haven’t turned yet, I don’t think we will.”

“Really?” J.D. asks.

“I’m pretty sure on this, but you have to trust me. We’re just trying to find people to get out of town. You wanna help?”

The shotgun drops a foot and J.D.’s eyes do, too, coasting over the ground as he suddenly looks defeated. “The Guard took some people out of town. I can’t find Sam. I have no clue where anyone else is.”

“Neither do we,” Jensen replies.

“Phones aren’t working. No internet or even cell phones,” J.D. says miserably. “Can’t get help in this town. What the hell’s going on?”

Jensen shakes his head as he steps up to J.D., all previous threat dissipating as they keep talking. “I have no clue.”

“What’re you guys doing out here?” he asks as he considers Danneel and Jason, too.

“We’re trying to find Jared,” she replies softly, staring right at Jensen, who has to look away.

J.D. considers Jensen for a moment and Jensen avoids any strange looks.

“They said they were bringing Jared and Bethany here, but there’s no one here,” Jensen explains.

“What’s your plan?” J.D. asks slowly.

“Find him, and then we’re heading out of town.” J.D.’s still regarding Jensen, but he eventually nods and glances at their vehicles. Jensen nods back and says, “We’re going north. Are you with us?”

His eyes swing up to Jensen’s and there’s a flicker of trust in his look. “Okay, yeah.”

Jensen sighs. “Alright, good.”

“We’re not far from Bub’s. I was heading there next to stock up.”

He gives J.D. a long look. “At Bub’s?”

“That man’s got a range out back,” Jason laughs. “You’ve never noticed it before?”

“I figure he stocks enough ammo to be armed for anything,” J.D. says.

Jensen takes a deep breath and rubs the back of his hand over his forehead and tries to settle himself and think clearly. Bub has his own range set within the acres surrounding his store that he uses on weekends with his elder brothers and uncles, Jensen knows this. His mind runs through a visual of the place and he’s nodding while mumbling in agreement.

“Are you okay?” Danneel asks with one hand at his back and the other pulling his arm from his face.

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “Of course. I’m fine.”

She shoots a glance beyond Jensen then pulls him to the side, cupping his face and looking right at him. They’re out of earshot, but she still whispers when she asks, “Jensen, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not,” Danneel says again, more firmly. She runs her hands down his face then smooths her thumb across his ear, back and forth in a soothing motion. “What’s wrong?”

He takes a long, uneven breath and finally admits his fear. “What if we don’t find him? I can’t think straight and he’s missing.”

She searches his eyes and he wonders exactly what she can read in them. “Why’re you so upset about this? You’re doing what you can, and we’re here to help.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says with more strength, trying to get back his confidence and nerve back.

“He’s your neighbor,” she says.

Jensen swallows roughly and nods. “And he’s my friend. We’re friends,” he says carefully, but it feels and likely sounds more emotional than he’d prefer right now. He has got to keep it together and he’s well aware he’s falling apart.

Danneel licks her lips and assesses him for a few more uncomfortable moments before she pats at his chest and smiles softly. “It’s okay. We’ll go to Bub’s then keep on looking for people.”

He nods, thankful she doesn’t delve any deeper. And from her gentle pep talk, he feels a bit more steady, energy drumming up from his feet, up through his knees and legs, and making him jittery in want of running on to the next spot.

Next