Isabel peered past the rusty barbed wire, looking at the barracks beyond. She shuddered every time she saw one of these places. They reminded her eerily of the 1940's Nazi concentration camps. Of course, the Masters themselves hadn't designed them. They made their humans do it.

She had left Kirsten behind, in the car, with strict instructions to stay on the floor and not get up, no matter what. She didn't want the little girl seen. Masters could tell on the spot that she was not an ordinary child. And as far as Isabel knew, she was the only free person with a mongrel child. That made her easily identifiable.

There was no one in the camp, as far as she could tell. It was night, so any inmates were locked into their barracks. Anyone who tried to escape would be shot. Isabel didn't know what was worse; being shot or being experimented on, as all the inmates at this particular camp were.

This was where her search for Alex had to begin. She clutched at the wire fencing, avoiding the sharp edges. She rattled the fence, and looked around for an entrance.

****

February 8, 2003
Western Montana

Isabel was still in awe of her little girl. Alex was proving himself to be an excellent father already, tickling the baby, playing with her, and changing her willingly. But Isabel could barely touch her without feeling the little girl would break like fragile, antique glass.

Kirsten Rebecca Whitman was a beautiful little girl, who after a week in the world already bore a remarkable resemblance to her father. She had porcelain skin and a head topped with black fuzz. Her eyes were a delicate robin's egg blue. That was one trait she wasn't certain of. Both she and Alex had dark eyes.

She watched the baby as she slept peacefully in her crib. Her chest rose and fell delicately in a perfect rhythm.

Isabel felt warm arms wrap around her. "How is she?" Alex asked.

"She's fine," Isabel said truthfully.

"What about you?"

"I'm okay," she lied. Isabel hadn't been okay since the media began broadcasting news of strange objects in the night sky. The newspeople hadn't been sure what to make of it, initially. On the day that Isabel gave birth, the television stopped working. Nervously, Max made a call home to tell their parents about Isabel's news. Isabel listened in on the other line. The phone rang at least ten times before anyone picked up.

"Hello?"

"Mom?" Max said.

"Max? Is that you? Oh, thank God."

"Yeah, Mom. Listen, we've got some..."

"Max, I need you to listen to me right now. Take your sister. Take her and anyone else you love, and run as far from civilization as you poss--" The line went dead.

"Mom?" Max shouted.

Isabel hung up the phone dully. The rest of the group looked at her, unnerved by the expression on her face. She didn't look up as Max came in from the other room. "It's begun," she said softly.

They all looked at each other as the baby began to wail. Since then, they'd spent their time in total isolation. Nothing worked, not the radio, the television, the phones. Even the electricity had failed until Max hooked up the generator. They were all worried. Winter here lasted until May, and it was only the middle of February. They could probably stay warm, but what would they do when their food ran out? They had enough for possibly another month.

One of them had to leave and get food.

In the end they decided it would be Max. He was the smartest, the fastest and the most powerful of all of them. Alex couldn't go; he had a new baby to help with. Isabel was obviously not a choice. Liz had been continually sick with the flu throughout the winter. Max healed her every time, but he worried each time it returned. She was out, too.

Michael was the most obvious choice, but Maria went into hysterics every time she pondered him leaving her. She was absolutely convinced he wouldn't return. Maria herself had volunteered, but Michael pointed out that if she could go, why couldn't he?

This had started a screaming fight that terrified the baby and lasted nearly an hour. Isabel finally stopped it by screaming at them for how inconsiderate they were. It took her almost three hours to calm Kirsten down.

Max was the one who had to go. He shrugged, packed a small bag, kissed Liz goodbye, and left.

After he was gone, Liz walked to the old armchair in the corner and curled herself into a tiny ball.

"This was a bad idea," Isabel said to Alex when they were finally alone.

"What was?"

"Coming up here together. We should have known it would end up like this."

Alex sighed and pulled her onto his lap. "Iz, we had no way of knowing. And besides, what's been so awful?"

She shrugged. "I just think we should have stayed. Fought."

Alex smiled. "I can just see you wielding armor, nine months pregnant."

They both started laughing. They couldn't help themselves. Two days later, Isabel awakened in the night to the sound of someone opening the door. Thinking it was Max, she crept out of bed without waking Alex and walked to the door, opening it quickly. "Max, where have you..."

She was cut off quickly when she saw that it was not Max, after all. It was a man, perhaps in his thirties, with a dirty beard and filthy clothes. "Well, well! It's a little lady! Haven't seen one of those in an awfully long time!"

Isabel opened her mouth to scream, and he covered it with his hand. "Scream, and I'll kill all your little friends. I know you ain't alone. I seen those others coming in and out."

Isabel went silent, and focused on using her powers to do anything--scare him, startle him, kill him. Nothing worked. She sent out a silent scream to Alex.

The man grabbed her and dragged her out the door into the freezing air and deep snow. He didn't seem to care how much noise he made. He opened the door to the barn where the van had been and threw her inside. He shut the door behind him and lit the lantern. He admired her in the dim light. "Take off your clothes."

"No!"

He pulled a gun from his pocket and pointed it at her. "Do it now."

"Oh, God," Isabel whispered to herself. "Alex, Michael, anybody, help me." She saw the man pull off his pants, leaving his coat on to stay warm. She was fairly certain she was about to vomit.

"I'm staying warm, but all those clothes have gotta go, little lady," the man said with a grin.

"Fuck you," Isabel said through clenched teeth.

"All right then, if that's the way it's gotta be," he said. He walked over and pushed her onto the ground. She landed squarely on her hands and knees. She felt the man land on top of her and shove her nightshirt and panties out of the way. Then, just as suddenly, he was gone. Isabel heard a shot and felt something warm splatter over her.

"Are you okay?" Alex asked, pulling her to her feet. She collapsed into his arms. "Yes, I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" he asked, pulling her face up to him.

"Yeah," she mumbled. "Is he dead?"

"Yup," Alex said. "And good riddance." Alex carried her back to the house, where everyone was awake and waiting. Alex seemed surprised to see them. "Did you guys hear it too?" he asked.

Maria nodded slowly. "I heard a scream. Only it wasn't really a scream, it was in my head."

"Oh my God, Isabel, are you okay?" Liz asked, going into maternal mode as Alex set her on her feet.

"We just met one of our fellow survivors," Alex said grimly.

"Is he..." Maria asked without asking.

"Yes. Michael, you and I can clean out the barn in the morning." ****

2010

Initially, Isabel had been surprised by Alex's survival skills. He saved her from harm's way more times than she cared to remember.

Now, though, she didn't know if those skills could save him.

She crept into the camp as silently as possible, wincing as she stepped on some dead leaves. She headed for the barracks nearest her, absolutely amazed at the lack of security. Didn't they care anymore?

Isabel heard someone else creeping through the leaves and stopped dead in her tracks.

"Hello? Is somebody there?"