Tyler looked to me to answer. I didn’t like taking people I didn’t know on a flight, especially one as desperate as Bill. Too many things could happen in the air that could turn everything to shit. I’d learned that lesson by watching my dad. He’d been a doctor and an avid volunteer in the Doctors Without Borders program. He had learned to fly to get into some of the world’s most inhospitable places. He’d taken me with him one summer, where I became hooked on flying but also learned first-hand how easily a single passenger with a panic attack could nearly crash a plane. Now, I never flew anywhere without having someone I trusted on board to handle any passenger.

“Okay,” I said and Bill’s face lit up. “You can ride in back only if we have an extra seat. Jase is my co-pilot and rides shotgun. We’ll try for tomorrow morning. If Clutch isn’t up for it or the weather doesn’t look perfect, we’ll try again for the next day. If any other Fox scout wants to ride along, you lose your seat.” I pointed a finger at him. “I’m in charge. You do everything I say. No questions asked. No arguing. I will not risk my plane or my life because you decide to do something stupid. Got it?”

Bill gave a fervent nod, smiling widely. “Yes, yes. I’ll do whatever you ask.” He cupped my hands. “This means so much. Thank you, I mean it.”

I gave a weak smile. “Listen. There are no guarantees on this trip. Chances are, even if we make it to Marshall without having to turn around, there won’t be any safe landing strips, so we’ll only manage to make a bag drop. You’re signing up for what will likely be a dull three- or four-hour flight.”

“I understand,” Bill replied, his eyebrows high. “We had a road cleared at the university for our pilot to land. You can land there.”

“I’m not making any promises,” I cautioned.

“Even if you can’t land, I can at least get a note to my family,” Bill quickly replied. “They’ll know I’m safe and on my way back to them. They’ve got to be so worried right now.” Bill reached into his pocket, grabbed a pen and notepad, and started drawing something.

“Much obliged, ma’am,” Manny said. “Bill’s been riding my back ever since we pulled out of Marshall.”

“I’m not surprised,” I said with a smirk. “And the name’s Cash.” I watched Manny for a moment. “What can you tell me about these herds? How are you so sure the zeds are moving south?”

“A scout told us he’d followed the herd for fifty miles before he figured out they were heading straight south. One of our radio contacts in North Dakota noticed zeds all started walking the same direction about the same time the birds started migrating. We put two and two together and figured they’re migrating for the winter.”

I shook my head. “The zeds around here aren’t showing any signs of migrating.”

“You’re farther south. It’s warmer here, so they might not have gotten the itch yet. Or, maybe they’re just waiting to join up with other herds.”

I thought for a moment. I dreaded seeing if this pair was telling the truth, but I also wasn’t going to be an ostrich with my head in the sand. If there was danger headed our way, we needed as much advance warning as possible. Flying was the safest and most efficient way to do that. I sighed, came to my feet, and grabbed my tray. “Well, if I’m going to do this, I better start my flight planning.” I turned to Bill. “Be at the park gate by sunrise. Don’t bring more than five pounds of gear with you. I like to keep the plane as light as possible when we head out.”

“Here.” Bill handed me a piece of paper. “Here’s a map of the university.” He pointed to a long line. “Here’s where our pilot used to land.”

As I pocketed the paper, Tyler gave me a smile. “Get some rest. I’ll try to catch you before you leave in the morning. If you leave in the morning, I mean.”

“Good night.” I gave Tyler a slight smile before stepping back and then paused, thinking of another problem of being cooped up in a small, enclosed space with a newcomer. “Oh, and Bill? Be sure to wash up. You guys really stink.”

Tyler’s smile widened into a big grin, and I couldn’t help but return his smile. I turned and headed toward the food table. After dumping off my tray and grabbing a bag of nuts and an apple for Clutch, I walked back to the cabin. My leg needed the exercise, and I needed the fresh air. Aside from the random raider and zed herd, life had returned to something that vaguely resembled normalcy. I tried not to show fear, but if Manny was right about huge herds headed this way, I was downright terrified. We couldn’t take out a single herd. How the hell could we defend the park against something ten thousand times the size of the herd we ran from today?

By the time I reached the cabin, the sun had set. Jase was doing push-ups on the floor while Clutch was sprawled out on the bed sound asleep, with a bottle of pills still in his grip. For a moment, my stress disappeared. These two guys were my family now. Like so many other “families” of survivors in this new world, we were just as close as any real family, and I loved them no less than if we were related.

Jase was a bit like the brother I’d never had, but he was more like a son I’d probably never have. He had a good heart. Even with all the shit he’d seen, there was still an unjaded piece left in his soul. I’d give my life for his in a heartbeat. He was a far better person than I was, and I was thankful that he came to Clutch’s farm that day many months ago…the day our family was born.

The idea of a real-life son terrified me. I often thought back to the time Clutch and I had unprotected sex and was thankful that I hadn’t ended up pregnant. I shivered at the thought of having a tiny, defenseless, crying baby surrounded by zeds.

Shaking the thought from my head, I walked over to the table, grabbed the stack of FAA sectional maps, and opened up the one for Minneapolis. I laid the map next to the hand-drawn map Bill had scrawled during dinner. On it, the buildings of the university were squares and rectangles, with a thick line drawn at the bottom indicating a road he was convinced would work as a landing strip. After lighting a candle, I scrutinized the sectional, circling every airport that had fuel along the route to Marshall and back. Taking off and landing wasn’t much of an issue anymore. Any stretch of road without power lines worked, especially since the planes I flew weren’t large by any means. I could feather the prop and land nearly silently. As long as no zeds were too close when I restarted for takeoff, I could be safely in the air before any got close.

“I didn’t know you were doing a scouting run tomorrow,” Jase said without stopping.

“We have a scouting run tomorrow. A long distance one,” I replied. “If Clutch is up to it. Tyler wants him on this run.”

Jase rolled over. His brows rose. “Really? Where are we heading?”

“The folks from Marshall said there might be some herds headed this way. I want to check that out. They seem to think zeds are migrating south for the winter. If that’s true, the more time we have to prepare, the better.”

Jase’s guffawed. “Zeds migrating? Like geese?”

I shrugged. “I suppose so. I thought it sounded pretty farfetched, too.”

He simply gave a disbelieving shake of his head. “How big of herds are we talking about?”

I thought about telling him what Manny had said, but decided Jase had enough bad things to dream about already. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

Jase’s eyes narrowed. “They must be big for Tyler to want you to fly out that far.”

I shrugged. “We head out at sunrise. This will be a top-off-the-fuel-tanks kind of mission. If we can, we’ll also check out the folks still holed up at the university in Marshall. Otherwise, we’ll at least try to do a bag drop.”

“Cool.” He then nodded to Clutch. “He was out cold when I got home. I’m surprised he’s still asleep.”