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Teen Wolf: World War Z

Chapter Text

"Scott!" came Reid Garwin's voice from the terminal door he just exited. Scott McCall and Isaac Lahey turned towards the source of the sound to see the blond Son of Ipswich grinning at them, tugging a petite suitcase behind him, Tyler Simms hot on his heels. Scott and Reid exchanged fraternity-like handshakes first, Isaac and Tyler doing the same before they switched.

"How was your flight?" Scott asked as he led the four of them to Isaac's new car in the Oakland International parking lot.

"Long," Reid replied. "Had some good chicken dish, though."

"Christ, Reid," Tyler gasped, smirking and shaking his head.

"What?"

"You have no standards," Tyler said. "And by the way, that was pork."

"Was not. That was chicken."

"The lady next to you had chicken."

"Whatever," Reid ended the fight. "It was good."

"You really don't have standards," Isaac said, smirking at the blonde.

"Fuck you all," Reid said. The three others exchanged smirking glances as Reid frowned, looking straight ahead. When they reached Isaac's new BMW 5 Series Gran Turismo, Reid and Tyler placed their suitcases in the trunk.

"Impressive," Tyler said, looking over the luxury car.

"European," Isaac said with a grin before getting in the car. As Tyler moved to do the same, to sit behind Scott on the right side of the car, that's when they heard it.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" came a shrilling screech. Tyler immediately snapped his head to look at the source, only to see a large group of people running, the ones in the back faster than the ones in front. And the people in the back were tackling the people in the front.

"Tyler!" came Reid's voice.

"Drive," Scott ordered as Tyler closed the door. Instantly, Isaac leaned fully on the gas and he began to swerve in and out of traffic, both flowing and on-coming. Scott, who was gripping the side of his seat and the oh-shit bar above his head, looked over at Isaac to see his boyfriend's eyes glowing yellow—Isaac was using his full werewolf vision and reflexes to get them through the building traffic as more and more people became aware of the chaos back at the terminal.

"What the hell was that?" Reid yelled to no one in particular, looking through the rear window to see the chaos erupting behind them. While Isaac concentrated, Scott switched the audio from AUX—Isaac's iPod—to AM radio to a news station.

"This is an emergency broadcast recorded from the governor's office in Sacramento. A pandemic sourced at LAX and Oakland International has been linked to related outbreaks at JFK, Dulles, and other international airports. The public is advised to stay clear of all airports at this time and stay in their homes to avoid contracting the virus. Through federal advisory the governor's office recommends the total evacuation of Los Angeles and San Francisco at this time." Beep. "This is an emergency…"

"The fuck?" Reid expressed first.

Scott whipped out his cell and hit speed dial for his mother. Busy. He then tried calling Stiles. Busy also. Cooper. Busy. Danny. Busy. Allison Clare. Busy. Allison Argent. Busy. Lydia Martin. Busy. "The cell net's exploded," he said, looking back at the warlocks.

"Yeah," Tyler said, lowering his own phone from his ear, "I can't reach anyone back home."

The car swerved rather harshly and Scott almost smacked his head against the window. They were on the highway now, headed fast for Beacon Hills at 90 mph on the emergency personnel shoulder. That is until other people ahead had done the same and they began to build up in the deadlock. "C'mon, asshole!" Isaac yelled, his eyes back to normal now.

"Isaac, it's alright," Scott said, placing a hand on his outstretched forearm. "We're outta' there."

"I just…"

"What?"

"I just have a bad feeling about all this, Scott."

— | WWZ | —

After some amazing maneuvering, taking back roads, and unrestricted speeding, they finally pulled into the gated garage under the apartment complex that Scott and Isaac shared a studio at. Once inside, they found Stiles, Gage, and Cooper each looking at Scott for direction. "Where're the others?" Scott asked.

"Allison and David," Stiles began, "are at the store getting supplies. Haven't heard from Danny. Hopefully he's not still at UCLA."

"Have you spoken to your dad?"

"Yeah," Stiles said, shaking a little hand-held radio in his hand. "He's gonna' pack some things and grab your mom." Stiles looked from his girlfriend and then back to Scott. "Any ideas?"

"Hold up in here. See if it gets to Beacon Hills."

Stiles was about to add a sarcastic retort concerning Scott's still lack of three-step-ahead planning when the front door behind Scott swung open. Allison Clare walked in, a multitude of plastic bags in her hands and behind her was her brother, David, who was supporting a bloodied Danny to remain vertical.

"What happened?" Scott asked as he helped David lay Danny's barely conscious form on the leather sofa.

"Dunno,'" David began, "when we got back, we found him in the parking lot slumped over on his bike.

"Danny," Scott began, peering over the barely conscious form of his pack mate, "can you hear me?"

Danny's eyes opened slightly and he smiled. "Hey, Scott."

"What happened?"

"You know," he began, his voice in a stupor, "I've always had a bit of a crush on you, right?"

"Danny," Scott repeated, his eyes dimming red. "Focus," he ordered. Danny made a small nod. "What happened to you?"

"Got hit by a tractor…" He paused, his eyes closing before Scott shook him slightly. "…by a tractor trailer."

"His bike doesn't even look scratched," David added.

"No, no…not on my bike. Crossing the street. I was…I was carrying…" Huff. "I was…"

"Rest, Danny," Scott said, watching Danny's eyes close again and a few tears slide out. He turned to Stiles who was already digging through his bag. "You'll look after him?" Stiles nodded. "I'm gonna' go look on the internet. See if there's anything more to this."

"Scott," Stiles said, kneeling next to Danny but looking at his best friend, "don't panic when you see the pages I left up."

Scott nodded and left to go into the small den. "I'll go with him," Isaac said, looking at Stiles.

— | WWZ | —

Unfortunately, Scott did panic. He had a panic attack all too similar to the one he had on the day of his second full moon. After Allison first called a break between them. When he'd rushed out of his chemistry exam and made his way to the locker room showers. But this time, he only had one place to turn. To Isaac. And Isaac was there. He calmed him down. Showed him that the world around them, despite the chaos they'd seen on the screen, was real. But that the world was also good. That he, Isaac, was right there before him and was going to stay there beside him.

It was the death and panic that struck the chord with Scott. He'd never been one to watch the news. Or watch movies or videos with any real death in it. No history documentaries. No reenactments of genocide. He wasn't a fan of horror movies, despite the real one he was living sometimes. He'd been sheltered from a lot of that, mostly by his own choice. Even before the bite, but especially after the bite. Death troubled Scott. It's part of the reason he became a true alpha and mostly the reason why his pack is the way it is.

Isaac walked Scott slowly out into the main room, sitting him down on the chair perpendicular to Danny, who still slumbered. Isaac walked over to Stiles, who was leaning against the counter, and punched him square in the arm.

"Oww," Stiles whined, his eyes wincing as he looked at Isaac.

"A little warning next time," Isaac began. "You see that," Isaac said pointing at Scott's shook up form, "that's your fault. You know how he gets. Hell, you know him better than I do sometimes."

"What happened?"

"Panic attack. He didn't take well to the Philadelphia video you happened to leave up."

"Oh. Well I didn't know he was gonna' freak out. He hasn't had an attack like that since the Alpha Pack days." This time it was Gage's turn to punch Stiles, in the other arm. "What the hell?"

"Even I told you to tell them what was going on," she said.

"I assumed they knew since they were worried when they came in," Stiles defended. "And I did tell him 'not to panic.' What more do you want from me?"

"Right, like we knew zombies almost killed us," Isaac said.

"Zombies?" Reid piped in, his eyebrow lifting.

"That's what they're calling them," Stiles explained. "The infected I mean. Go watch the video. Philadelphia's a mess."

Reid and Tyler made their own way into the den and Stiles turned to argue with Gage. Isaac walked over to Scott and sat on the armrest, placing a hand on his upper back. Scott continued to consciously control his deep breathing, his eyes closed as Isaac rubbed his hand up and down his back.

After several moments, the door opened again. It was Sherriff Stilinski and a very terrified Melissa McCall. "They're here," the Sherriff said.

Chapter Text

"They're here," the Sherriff said. Stiles' dad was retired now, but like an ex-President, that's just what he's known as.

That warning, however, was the kick Scott needed to recover. Immediately, his leadership-alpha-qualities kicked in and he was up on his feet. He rushed over to the door and listened carefully, his ear flush against the door like a suction cup. "I hear them," he said. "We gotta' move. Now." He looked at Isaac. "Take the fire escape in the bedroom. Get everyone to the cars." He looked at Allison and David. "You two stay with me. We're gonna' hold 'em off for as long as possible." He looked back at Isaac. "Go."

"Lemme' stay behind, too," Reid said.

Scott nodded, looking at his mother. "I love you. Stay close to Isaac." He kissed her cheek and the Sherriff took her with him, following Stiles, Gage, and Isaac; the rear was followed by Tyler and Cooper, Danny leaning on his shoulders.

Not long after the group made it through the bedroom window, screams began to fill the upper floor of the apartment. And then when the screams no longer bellowed, the horrific noises of the so-called zombies took their place. The hissing and growling and deathly exhales. Soon it was upon the door. Masses pounding on the sliding slab of steel. The noises getting louder.

"I can feel them," David said, looking at Scott next to him. "They're angry. Raging."

"They're out of control," Scott said, transforming as the door began to move sideways, the lock breaking off in one motion. Scott roared at them, his two betas following suit, each of them totally wolfed out. The zombies charged the three werewolves, and Scott soon discovered that the fight was going to be much harder than anticipated: there were at least three dozen zombies now circling around them. Well…three dozen in falling.

The three of them were moving as fast as their heightened bodies allowed them, dodging deadened fingernails, bite attempts, and even lunges; Reid was mostly stationary, performing some sort of kata with his magic, sending them into other zombies or into the walls. They found it easiest to rip open their throats…as deep as they could sink their claws in seemed to work best…because hitting them anywhere else really didn't do much. They just got back up. Slashes to the face. Slashes to the chest. They just kept going, like pain—if they even felt it—was completely secondary.

"Allison…move towards the bedroom!" Scott called out as the four of them tangoed backwards, trying to position themselves for escape.

When they managed to get into the bedroom, Scott and David killed two more just outside of it before Reid forced the door closed. "Go!" he yelled, holding the door with some sort of telekinesis.

Scott nodded and the three werewolves hustled out the window and made their way down the fire escape. Suddenly, the apartment bedroom exploded and a flaming zombie fell passed them, crashing into the pavement below. Scott looked up and saw Reid falling, too. When he peered over the rail, expecting him to crash like the zombie, Reid only landed on his two feet and stood up like nothing had happened.

When Scott made it down, Isaac and Stiles pulled up with their cars. The four superhumans piled into them and they sped off, dusting more zombies that were coming up behind them. "Head to the Argents' complex," Scott directed Isaac.

"What for?" he replied.

"We're not just gonna' leave them," Scott said.

"They can take care of themselves, Scott," Isaac argued. "They might even be gone already."

"We might need their help. We should stick together."

"Just do as he fucking says," Allison said from behind Isaac. Isaac glared back at her but resigned. The two cars soon found themselves weaving in and out of stationary cars, hitting several zombies along the way, ones that hadn't stuck with the masses or were left behind.

They pulled up to the Argents' complex and they found Chris Argent keeping watch while Allison secured some metal boxes into the back; he was armed with some custom assault weapon. "Scott?" he said when they pulled up and Scott hopped out of the car; the Sherriff and Stiles did as well from his jeep.

"We should stick together," the alpha began, "help each other out."

"What he means to say," the Sherriff added, "is that the more guns the better."

Allison looked at Scott for a moment and then continued throwing the boxes into the back, some of them suitcases as well. And then Lydia appeared, of all people. She was quickly dragging two smaller suitcases behind her and she stopped for a second when she saw Scott and Stiles.

"I thought you were in Boston?" Stiles asked first.

"I was visiting Allison for the week," she said, looking at them with that face.

Allison grabbed the suitcases and she turned to her dad. "All set," she said, looking from him, to Lydia, then finally at Scott again. She looked away and got in the car, not saying a word to him; she hadn't since he and Isaac moved in together.

"Where're you headed?" Scott asked Chris.

"Camp Greenhorn; I have a buddy stationed there."

"Camp Greenhorn…Camp Greenhorn…" Scott kept repeating, thinking. "That goes by Wolfton Heights, right?" Chris Argent nodded, looking confused. "Derek's there."

"I know you've never let the whole 'save everyone' thing go," Stiles began, "but inter-city heroism is not something we should be exploring right now. Especially since there's hordes of zombies chasing after us left and right." Scott frowned at him. "Besides, Derek can take care of himself."

"I'm not worried about Derek," Scott corrected. "I'm worried about Deaton."

"Who can also take care of himself…since he's Derek's emissary."

"He's right Scott," the Sherriff stepped in. "We can't rescue everybody."

"Fine," Scott resigned. "When we get to Wolfton, you guys can go on ahead. The pack's stopping to make sure they got out."

Stiles rolled his eyes and sighed. "Scott, as your emissary, I'm telling you you're being a dumbass."

"Stay with your dad. And my mom. Keep her safe." Scott turned and opened the front passenger door. "Mom, go with the Stilinskis. They'll keep you safe. Reid, you might wanna' go with them too since Tyler's with them."

"Are we splitting up?" Isaac asked.

"We will be. We have to make sure Derek got out."

"Scott—" Isaac began to argue, about to make the same points as the Stilinskis.

"I want to make sure Deaton's okay. You know how important he is to me."

Isaac dropped it. Melissa and Reid got out of the car and Melissa hugged and kissed her son. Reid walked over to where Tyler sat in Stiles' jeep, quietly talking to him. He kissed Tyler and turned to Scott. "I'm gonna' stick with the pack, Scott," he announced. "Better have one of…us…with each party."

Scott nodded and turned back to his mother. "They'll keep you safe."

"Be careful," she said and took Gage's place, who, before taking Melissa's in Isaac's car, kissed Stiles.

"Cooper," Scott said into Stiles' jeep, "look after Danny." The largest of the werewolves nodded from the middle seat of Stiles' jeep and peered back at Danny, who was barely conscious in the back of the jeep.

"Scott," Chris began, "you should just stick with us."

Scott looked at Chris and a made a face telling Chris that the advice had been noted but he was still going through with it.

"Dude, don't do this," Stiles said, just the two of them standing there as the rest filed into the cars.

"We'll catch up with you. I promise. When you get to the base, make sure they know we're coming."

Stiles nodded and they hugged it out before Stiles returned to the driver's seat of his jeep, Scott to the passenger's of Isaac's BMW. All the cars started, the now three-car convoy took off, headed southeast toward Wolfton Heights and Camp Greenhorn.

Chapter Text

Despite the number of convincing arguments from several members of the convoy, Scott directed his pack—or rather those in Isaac’s car—to break when they reached the exit to Wolfton Heights.  After passing through numerous parked and somewhat destroyed cars, as well as running over at least two dozen zombies, the small trip into Wolfton Heights was no different.

When Isaac’s BMW 5 Series Gran Turismo closed in on downtown Wolfton Heights, they found the town was deserted.  Mostly.  Other than the small number of scattered zombies, which seemed to turn alive every time the car approached, the McCall Pack found a family of four—three adults and a younger teenager?—and Derek’s car.  His almost-Hummer Toyota.

“Isaac, Gage, and I will head upstairs and find Derek,” Scott directed.  He looked at Isaac and posed, “Who do you want in the driver’s seat?  Just in case?”

Isaac frowned, not liking the thought of anyone but him behind the steering wheel of (find Spanish version of Scott?).  He looked in the back and finally settled on the blonde.  “We’ll only be a minute, but take care of him.”  Allison nodded and hopped out to switch seats.  “And don’t touch anything but the wheel.”  She smirked evilly and the three werewolves made their way through the open door and slowly up the stairs, Isaac taking point as he was the stealthiest.

When they finally found Derek’s front door, Isaac tapped once with his claw and Scott announced their presence.  “Derek,” he began, whispering, “are you in there?”

Silence.

“Derek, it’s Scott and Isaac.  Open up.”

Suddenly, the door slowly opened up, creaking only once thankfully.  Standing there was Cora Hale, Derek’s younger sister and only remaining relative since Peter’s betrayal.  “Scott?” she whispered.  “What’re you doing here?”

“We came to make sure you’re alive.  We should stick together, given what’s going on.”

“We actually came for Deaton,” Isaac spoke truthfully, his arms crossed, still holding a grudge against the Hale alpha.

“We came for both reasons,” Scott corrected, glaring at his boyfriend next to him.  “Where’s Derek?"

“Not here,” she said, yanking her head to the side, motioning the three inside.  “He’s out looking for his girlfriend.  With Van.”

“New member?” Scott asked.  She nodded.

“This is Barrett,” she said as a tall bulky black man came out from the back, claws out.  “Barrett, this is Scott McCall and two of his pack members, Isaac and…?”

“Gage,” the red head answered.

“Is Deaton here?” Isaac asked, pushing the point he made seconds ago.

“Upstairs,” she said, looking at the spiral staircase in the far corner next to the window; the loft looked much like Derek’s former loft in Beacon Hills, but more homey with the pictures, carpet, and painted dry-wall.  “He’s doing research, as best he can.  The power’s been flicking in and out.”

Scott nodded and looked at Isaac; they had a silent conversation entailing Isaac ‘giving’ Scott permission to leave him and Gage alone with Cora and Barrett.  Scott made for the stairs and walked up into a small upstairs:  one narrow hallway and two rooms, both on the right.  He peered into the first one and found his former boss and father-figure, Dr. Alan Deaton, hunched over a white keyboard linked to an iMac.  “I must say, Scott,” he began, not having once turned around, “I’m glad you came.”

“Of course,” Scott said, smiling his classic grin.  “I had to make sure you were alright.”

Deaton stood and embraced his otherwise-godson.  “It’s good to see you.  The last several hours have been…troubling…to say the least.”

“Did you find anything useful?”

Deaton shook his head.  “There’s not much out there.  Just videos.  Though, from what I’ve been able to make out from one of them, it takes about twelve seconds for whatever this thing is to transmit.  Twelve seconds when bitten.”

“Is it supernatural?”

Deaton shrugged, his face dawning his look of worry.  “I’m not sure.  I’ve never heard of anything like this…in all my time.  I’ve even looked through the copy of the Argent’s bestiary.  Nothing.”

“Damn.  Well, I want you coming with us.  Even if Derek doesn’t decide to come along.”

Deaton smiled.  “I appreciate the sentiment, Scott.  I really do.  But my place has always been beside the Hale family.  Until one of us goes.  I made a promise to a dying woman.”

“Talia?”  Deaton nodded.  “Then I guess I have to do my best to convince Derek to join us.  How long has he been gone?”

“Six hours.  He’s looking for Danielle.”

“Are things going better for him?”

Deaton nodded.  “Van and Barrett are quite the additions.  I must say,” he said, lowering his voice to a mouse’s whisper, “they cast a great shadow over Isaac and Boyd’s memory.  Abilities-wise.”

“Don’t let Isaac hear you say that,” Scott said, grinning again.  Deaton nodded and the pair descended the stairs to find Isaac and Gage looking at Scott as they lowered to their level.

“How long do you wanna’ wait, Scott?” Gage asked.

Their alpha looked from Gage, to Deaton, to Isaac.  “Let’s give him 20 minutes.  If we can.  I don’t wanna’ leave the others alone for too long, even with Reid down there.”

“Again, do I need to be worried?” Isaac asked, smirking.

“What?” Scott began defensively, “I just know he and Tyler are really powerful.  It’s intimidating and awestriking at the same time.”

Isaac only looked at him, saving his comment for later.  Scott shook his head, as if able to read his mind.  Suddenly, Cora, Barrett, and Gage’s claws formed, all three of them facing the door.  “Footsteps.  Hurried ones,” Gage said.

Scott’s eyes glowed red and Isaac stepped in front him, his protectiveness kicking in.  The footsteps got louder and louder until the door swung open.  The one likely named Van entered first, followed by a brunette woman, and then Derek.  Everyone’s wolfish features reverted and Derek looked at Scott, clearly surprised to see him.  “Scott?” he began, his tone indicating both confusion and slight annoyance, “What’re you doing here?”

“We came for Deaton,” Isaac answered.

Scott glared at him again and turned back to Derek.  “I wanted to make sure he was alright.  And I wanted to ask you to come with us.”

“Us?” Derek asked, his eyebrow raising, his arms crossed.

“My pack.  My mom.  Stiles’ dad.”  He stopped.

“The Argents,” Isaac completed.  Scott huffed, not turning back this time.

“The Argents, too, eh?” Derek more stated than asked.

“They’ll be useful.  And they’re gonna’ give us more security.”

“How so?”

“Argent has a friend at Camp Greenhorn.  We’re supposed to rendezvous with them there.  Stiles and all are with them.”

“I see.”  He looked from Scott, to Deaton, and finally to his sister.  “What do you think?”

“He has a point about the Argents,” Cora reluctantly said.  “Despite what we feel about them, maybe this is a time to call a temporary truce.  Until this blows over.”

“And what if it doesn’t blow over?” Deaton asked, doing his job.

Derek looked to Scott.  “I can handle it,” he began, challenging Scott.  “Can you?  Given your history with one particular Argent?”

Isaac stepped forward, ready to say something when Scott grabbed his forearm.  “I can handle it just as well,” Scott said assertively, his heartbeat flowing steadily as he said so.  “Besides, she’s the one that stopped talking to me.”  Isaac wiggled out of Scott’s grip and intertwined their fingers, squeezing once.

Derek looked down at the subtle motions and smirked.  He looked back up at Isaac, and then to Scott.  “Fair enough.  But if I even smell threat to my pack, there’s gonna’ be a problem.”

Scott nodded and Derek’s pack members quickly gathered what little things they had.  The nine quietly made their way down the same flight of stairs Scott and company had recently taken.  They emerged in the lobby/mailroom and a zombie popped out from a room to the side.  Derek reacted first, driving a straightened clawed hand through its throat before any real sound could come out.  He flung as much of the blood off as possible while they clambered into their respective cars, Isaac retaking the driver’s seat.

“What the hell is this?” Isaac asked, noting the 'odd' music coming out of the ‘CD’ set stereo system; it was on low enough as to not attract any unwanted attention.

“Just a change of atmosphere,” Allison said, proud of her more peppy music than Isaac’s.

“End of this,” Isaac said, changing it back to his iPod.  He started the car fully and within seconds he was driving out of Wolfton Heights, Derek’s ATV-like SUV following close behind.

Chapter Text

"Why are they…shit," Stiles said, watching as the Argents' car pulled off the highway. Stiles made a snap move to follow and his father placed a hand over his on the steering wheel.

"It's gonna' be alright," the Sheriff said, Stiles' shaking hand calming a little, forcing the rest of his body to calm a little more as well. Not veering far from the highway, the Argents pulled off onto a dirt road and soon came upon a worn-down but still operational building—well, only until the outbreak began.

"Tyler," Stiles began, "why don't you stay with Melissa and Danny? Cooper, why don't you take watch outside? Stay frosty." The two guys nodded and Stiles and his father exited the car first, Cooper right behind them. The tall brawny blonde stepped out and turned around, facing the road and sharpening all of his senses. Stiles and the Sheriff followed Allison and Chris inside, Lydia hopping out and taking the driver's seat…just in case. "A gun shop?" Stiles said, once inside, noting some of the looted cases and empty shelves.

Chris turned to them for a quick briefing. "Grab a padded vest for yourselves, Melissa, and the new guy." Stiles smirked internally, knowing Tyler wouldn't need one. "Grab as many ammo boxes as you can. Shotgun shells, too. And Stiles, if you aren't armed, grab something you can draw quickly."

Stiles and his father nodded and the four dispersed throughout the abandoned store, Chris doing a quick sweep of the main room and the back before joining the others in looting what was left. Stiles, although armed with his sniper rifle in his jeep, grabbed a pistol with a 15-round-capacity and grabbed a small revolver for Melissa—something with a minor recoil. His father grabbed an additional vest for Melissa after cladding himself with one and proceeded to grab every box of ammo he could find except for the blanks. In a span of ten minutes, the four of them had grabbed three shopping carts full of ammo and a couple additional firearms and rolled them quickly out to the cars.

Upon leaving, the druid noticed that Tyler was now out of the car, now helping Danny clamber out as well. "Where are we?" Danny said, still rather exhausted.

"Just north of Porterville," Cooper answered from beside him, standing there like a statue with his arms crossed.

Danny looked around and noticed the company he was in. "Where's…where's Scott? And Isaac?" Danny's panic began to spike, recollections of the attack at UCLA slamming into the forefront of his consciousness.

"They're okay," Tyler said, placing a hand on Danny's arm, the latter's body visibly distraught. "We separated a little ways back. Scott went to get someone named Derek."

"Derek? Oh…"

"Reid is with them," Tyler said, hoping that the notion of a warlock being with them would provide the beta some comfort. And as those memories of the fight back east, they provided just that.

"Good to see you awake," Stiles said, walking over to them and patting Danny on the shoulder. Danny only continued to frown, Stiles infectious smile having no effect this time. Stiles got the hint and looked back at the Argents' car. "Cooper, maybe you wanna' go with them? Best have a werewolf in each car?"

"Sure," Cooper said, making to head over there.

"I'll go," Danny said, looking back to see Lydia getting out of the driver's seat. "She and I can catch up on things." Stiles nodded and the three guys clambered back into the car, the Sheriff having already retaken his seat in the front.

Stiles handed Melissa the fully-loaded revolver and a couple extra rounds. She smiled down at it, like someone had just presented her with a diamond necklace. "I never thought I'd be happy about the Second Amendment," she said. Stiles and his father exchanged and amused look and the former started the jeep, following the Argents as they made a U-turn.

— | WWZ | —

"There's a lake just east of Porterville," Chris Argent said into his short-wave. "We should rest there for the night. Less populated location."

"Unless they like water," the Sheriff replied sarcastically.

"Doubtful," Chris replied.

"Alright, the lake it is," the Sheriff said, the two-car convoy just heading over and overpass when a flaming car between them exploded. The explosion was forceful enough to jerk Stiles' jeep right and out of control and the jeep accelerated off of the overpass. Before anyone could even curse, they were headed front first into the pavement below. Everyone braced themselves when Tyler's eyes blackened and he landed them roughly into the concrete wall of the overpass, the front smashed less than a foot in.

"Everyone alright?" Stiles asked first, looking at his dad, to Melissa, and to the guys. Noting Tyler's eyes flaming back to normal, he turned back around and smiled with relief. "I'm glad we keep you around."

"So you're not…human either?" Melissa asked, both of her hands still gripping tight into the two guys' thighs nearest her. Tyler was about to answer when they heard it. That wheezing growl.

"Start the car, Stiles," the Sheriff ordered, looking to their right to see a mass charging for them. Stiles turned the key and the car stalled. "Start the car!" After a second and a third failed attempt, the Sheriff unbuckled his seat belt and yelled, "Ruuuuuun!"

What happened next was a blur. Adrenaline flooded Stiles' system. Survival instinct was at its height. And soon he found himself running towards a Starbucks/Subway building. It was so far away it seemed. But yet, within what seemed like a single blink he was forcing his way in. And Melissa was there with him, too. "Here," Stiles said, leading them into the back storage room of the Starbucks, the smell of coffee extremely potent. Stiles slammed the door and they raced to the back of the narrow room; there was only one way in—or out. They ducked down in the back, no light due to the outage. Stiles took out his pistol and clacked it, a small light appearing behind him in the form of the homepage of Melissa's cellphone screen.

An explosion could be heard from outside. And then another one. And then a triple burst of gunfire. But all of that quickly fled to the background when they heard that noise again. They both instinctually covered their mouths, but the sharp intake of air gave them away. And then there was pounding on the door. And angered growling. And then the noises multiplied. Stiles squeezed off two shots, one of them not even hitting the door and the other embedding itself only into one of the zombie's torso. The door tore open, Stiles millimeters away from squeezing the entire clip into the two when automatic gunfire blew through them, blood spattering onto the shelves to their left. The sound of helicopter propellers suddenly invaded their ears and they stood, slowly creeping out of the pantry, Stiles with his pistol sticking straight out.

They turned to see two black-clad commandos, both of them aiming at the windows. Outside they could hear more gunfire and right above them they could hear the source of the propellers. "You guys alright?" one of commandos yelled after checking his left.

"We're fine," Stiles answered back, watching them fire burst after burst at the sprinkled charging zombies, his own eyes still on high alert. After a couple more minutes, one signaled to the other and they slowly crept outside, Stiles and Melissa just behind them. Upon exiting the building, they found three other commandos walking up to them. "'Thanks' doesn't even begin to cover it," Stiles said to the two who'd been inside with them.

"He's right," Melissa began. "I would buy you both a steak dinner under different circumstances."

"That's why we're here, ma'am," one of them said. "We're patrolling for survivors. You and your son are the first ones we've found."

"Oh he's not…never mind."

"There's a second chopper en route. They'll take you to Camp Greenhorn; you should be safe there."

"We were actually headed there," Stiles began, "but we need to find our friends first. My dad is with them."

"Are you sure, kid?" the other one asked. "There's been no other movement. How long ago did you see them; there were a lot of them out there?"

"I saw 'em like five minutes ago. And I'm sure they're out there. My dad's a Sheriff…he knows how to take care of himself." Unfortunately, Stiles sounded more worried than confident as he spoke and the spec ops were doubtful. "Look, we're gonna' go find 'em. There's another car, too."

"Can't let you do that, son," the first one said.

Stiles made to argue with him when it came back. "Heads up!" another commando yelled and the five men all turned to fire to the right of the building: the opposite direction from where Stiles' jeep was.

"C'mon!" Stiles yelled, grabbing Melissa's hand and the two took off, back towards where they came from, both of them sprinting with their guns in-hand. The pleas of the commandos for the to return became drowned out with the gunfire and the deafening return of adrenaline. Surprisingly, they both made it back to the jeep with no 'living' zombie in sight; unfortunately, they didn't see the other three either. Stiles popped open the back and retrieved his two special bags, one containing his sniper rifle and the other containing various druidic supplies and his ammo.

He closed the back and they made to walk around to try and get on top of the overpass when the sound returned from the Starbucks-direction. Instead of trying to run, Stiles tossed up a perfect circle of mountain ash around both he and Melissa, Scott's mother tightly clinging to him, both of them with their arms outstretched and firing upon the almost dozen zombies headed towards them. While a couple fell, some dead and others only crippled, the rest came right upon them and the closest one neared the perimeter of the powder.

And in the moment of truth, nothing happened. The zombie passed right through and only by the grace of precise gunfire from behind them did they survive. The remaining zombies fell in seconds and Stiles and Melissa opened their eyes and turned to see Chris Argent—wielding a sniper rifle of his own—and Stiles' dad holstering their guns.

"C'mon," Chris Argent said, beckoning the two to Argent's SUV. Around the corner, standing next to the black vehicle was Cooper and Tyler.

"We're not gonna' all fit in your truck," Stiles pointed out.

"We don't have to," Tyler said, smirking as his eyes blackened and a nearby car started.

Chapter Text

Meanwhile…

"Remind me why we're not taking the back roads?" Isaac asked Scott, driving behind Derek's SUV.

"Danielle's parents live in Lindsay. They wanted to check their home, see if they could find them." He paused for a second. "In any condition."

"Great," Isaac said sarcastically. He looked back in the rear-view mirror to Allison asleep on her sleeping brother's shoulder. Gage was awake and staring down nervously at her out-of-service cell phone and Reid was looking out of the rear passenger-side window he was seated against.

Scott rested his hand on Isaac's covering the gear shift. "We're gonna' make it," he said optimistically, trying to stay strong for the both of them.

Isaac made a half smile but sighed nonetheless. "I know," he said, though sounding very unsure of his own words. It took them only another ten minutes before they pulled into the smaller city and even sooner they were pulling up to Danielle Carter's parents' house. The entire street was deserted, even most of the cars vacant even in the driveways. Everyone—except for Deaton—exited the cars, not wanting to get caught with their pants down should a fight break out.

"Reid," Scott began, "keep guard of the cars. Make sure none of 'em get close…especially not to Deaton." Reid nodded and all of the betas made a circular perimeter around the cars and the front door. Scott and Isaac followed Derek into the house, Danielle couched between the couple. Silently they crept in, the only sound that had been made was from the turning of her key.

They walked narrowly through the hallway and when Derek took his first step into the kitchen Scott tapped his shoulder. Derek looked back at Scott and the younger alpha jerked his head to the left, his eyes bulging in signal that there was sound coming from their west. Derek began head that way while Scott turned right, making his way towards the dining room. Scott only took another step when a zombie burst through the door Derek had careful opened. It lunged at him while a second darted past the two. It charged at Isaac, by-passing Danielle who was closer and it speared him to the ground. While Derek dispatched the first one with ease, Isaac had less luck as the zombie dug its teeth into his shoulder right before Scott tore it off in a two-step motion, the second involving driving his claws through the throat and jaw of the attacker. Derek rushed to Danielle's side while Scott helped Isaac to his feet, watching carefully for any signs of transmission. When nothing happened, Scott began to wonder…

"Those are the neighbor's sons," Danielle said, recognizing them after a second look. She covered her mouth and began to sob, her tall boyfriend pulling her into his chest.

"We'll go check upstairs," Scott said, jerking his head at Isaac to follow him. They made their way to the second level and began to cautiously check each of the rooms. After finding no one, Scott joined Isaac in one of the two smaller bedrooms and pulled him into a hug. "You okay?"

"A little shaken that he got to me," Isaac began, "but I'm alright."

Scott pulled back and looked down at his shoulder wound that was healing faster than a normal wound would have. "The question is how," Scott said, looking back up into Isaac's face. It took Isaac a moment to register the implication but then nodded. "I mean, look at this, you're healing at a faster rate than normal. You'll be healed up by the time we get back outside."

"So we're immune?" Isaac more stated than asked, only looking for Scott's opinion to back it up.

"Maybe more," Scott said, slapping Isaac's upper arm before walking out of the room, giving his boyfriend a reassuring smile right before he did so.

— | WWZ | —

"That's my parents' car!" Danielle yelled, pointing off to the left in a shopping center. "Derek, pull over."

"Need to get far enough of the swarm, first," he said, leaning hard on the accelerator. "Hang on." He braked hard and turned the SUV so it skid on the road to a full 100°. He sped off down the road, circling the back of the shopping center and then pulling right into it. Isaac's BMW pulled up right next to them and the werewolves and Reid all hopped out in an effort to brace themselves for the 50 or so zombies in only that small portion of Lindsay, California. "Here they come," Derek announced right before the crazed once-humans came sprinting at top speed around the backside of the shopping center. Their growls were the same signature noise that could be heard all over the world: a wheezed shrieking-growl that no other creature on the planet made.

Reid attacked first, a blink of his blackened eyes starting all the cars in front of them and snap of his fingers causing each of them to explode, wiping out a great number of the charge. The werewolves charged head on into them, claws swinging wide and fierce into the zombies' upper extremities: throats, jaws, sides of heads. After his little stunt, Reid picked up a large piece of metal from one of the cars and began to connect it with as many zombies as he could swing it into, the sharper end opposite his hands providing a great help in his effort.

But the two packs underestimated the numbers, and soon more were swarming in from the nearer surrounding areas. While most of them charged at the werewolves, and then at Reid—who turned the rest of the parking lost into a flaming warzone with another two-motions—a few of them broke off and began to assault Derek's car. "Danielle!" he screamed, too preoccupied to go to her aid. As three of them tried to get into the driver's side of the car, she kicked the one who broke into the window in the face before exiting the vehicle, Deaton right behind her. They tried to run for the building, but one of them caught up to Danielle and tackled the brunette to the ground. Derek was right upon them, his raging instincts having kicked into overdrive. He cut across the back of the zombies head only to find his girlfriend spazzing on the concrete beneath her.

"Wait, Derek!" Scott yelled as his fellow alpha was about to mercilessly kill her, his arm up like a recharge. He turned and then killed the two zombies charging at him, the same two that were assaulting his vehicle. Danielle clambered out of the body on top of her and began her own assault. "Bite her!" Scott yelled, killing one of the final three zombies that he was dealing with.

"What?" Derek called back, now evading everything Danielle was throwing at him.

"Trust me!"

"But, Scott—" Derek began, all of his doubts returning about having Paige turned from all those years ago.

"Just trust me!" Scott urged, bringing a set of claws down vertically down a zombie's face after having jumped up into the kill.

Derek managed to catch both her swinging arms, spun her around, and sunk his alpha fangs into her neck. After releasing his bite, he pushed her forward and watched. She writhed on the ground, spazzing even harder than when she had turned into a zombie. Her veins appeared through her skin, black like the goo they'd seen many times before. The rest of the zombies were down and everyone gathered around to watch as her bulging eyes turned from deadened grey to her natural brown, only to light up in that magnificent yellow. Derek rushed over to her and coupled her head. "You're okay," Derek said, tears actually building behind his eyes. She only continued to breathe, smiling up at him as he knelt beside her.

— | WWZ | —

"Is my mom okay?" Scott said into the short-wave radio.

"Everyone's fine, Scott," Chris Argent replied. "Stiles took care of your mom."

Scott sighed with relief, looking over at Isaac. They both exchanged a look of relief and Scott spoke into the black object once again. "We should be there soon. We had to stop and see of Derek's girlfriend's parents were alive. No luck finding them."

"I haven't heard from my brothers," Chris said.

"If they're anything like you, I'm sure they're fine," Scott said, trying to reassure his former enemy.

"Thanks. So we'll see you in 30?"

"Will do. Keep the gates open for us."

"Copy that." The radio never expelled anymore sound and Scott stowed it between his legs.

"You haven't heard from your dad, have you?" Isaac asked, knowing the answer to that question.

Scott only shook his head. "To be fair, I haven't heard from his for months." Isaac didn't respond to that; Scott's dad has been a sore subject for quite some time now, since he walked out on them again. "Anything from Caleb and the others?"

"Nothing."

"Not even Caleb's face in a cloud?" Scott teased.

"Funny," Reid replied. "I thought I saw him in a flame, but it was just a cooking zombie."

Scott grinned and shook his head. "You're horrible."

"I know."

"That was rather awesome, though," Scott said, thinking back to the firestorm Reid caused in the lot.

"I can fix 'em just as easily."

"Good to kn—what the…" Suddenly, Derek's car swerved left and Isaac followed, both avoiding a Jersey-barrier that had rocketed out in front of them. All but the drivers turned in their seats to see what caused it, and Scott immediately recognized the tall brawny frame running behind them. And he was being followed by another swarm. "Isaac, pass Derek and roll down your window." Isaac nodded and shifted gears, leaning heavily on the accelerator. "It's Aiden and Ethan!" Scott yelled out after Danielle opened her window. "Pop your trunk…we don't have room in ours!" Derek huffed but nodded just the same. Isaac pulled in front of them just as Derek popped the trunk.

The large form of Kale caught up to the car, pulling a vacant one he past behind him to obstruct the swarm a little more. The large fused werewolf hopped into the back on top of Derek's pack's luggage and closed the door from within. The two boys began to diffuse and they both breathed out heavily. "Thanks," Aiden said first, looking at Deaton's delighted face to see them.

Chapter Text

After rolling past the broken gate that used to serve as usher to those entering Camp Greenhorn, despair quickly settled over Scott and his pack; even the always-optimistic alpha wasn't able to stay positive this time. They carried on following Derek up the mountainous incline and soon pulled up in front of the largest building. There was no one around. No lights were on in any of the buildings. The surrounding vehicles were empty, none of which were Stiles' jeep or the Argents' SUV.

"Chris, come in," Scott spoke into the radio.

Silence.

"Stiles. We're here," he spoke again.

Silence.

"Shit," Scott said. Frustrated, he got out of the car without thinking and looked around. Immediately Isaac got out.

"Scott," he said in a rushed whisper, "get back in. We don't know what's out here."

"Nothing's out here," Scott said confidently, yet furious that all of this had been for nothing. "Listen, Isaac." After a moment he continued. "You hear that. There's nothing. Only the sound of the cars and a ventilation unit."

Derek got out of the car and walked up to them. "Actually, there's another car coming." Scott's eyebrow lifted and then he heard it, too. After another couple minutes, a turret-mounted hummer came rolling into the square from the left. Derek leaned into Scott and said, "Remember, control your senses."

"I was—"

"There's three snipers around us."

Scott calmed himself as the car parked and picked up on their heartbeats finally. He looked at all three of them, swearing in his brain that Derek was right.

"Are you Scott McCall?" the African-American marine said that exited the passenger-side of the hummer.

"I am," Scott replied.

"We have orders to airlift you to the USS John Paul Jones until a civilian haven can be set up. You'll be reunited with the rest of your party there. If we could have everyone exit the vehicles and gather around them, the choppers are en route as we speak. ETA five minutes." Not even having to signal at anyone, the cars began to empty of their passengers and the few bags within them.

"Um…" Scott began, not knowing how to address the soldier before him.

"Sergeant Duncan," the marine replied knowingly.

"How many people made it here…with Mr. Argent?"

"Nine, I believe."

Scott exhaled calmly, noting that all heads were accounted for. "Thanks."

"How did you kids manage to survive?" he asked.

"Uh, Derek here is pretty good when it comes to survival. And my boyfriend—err, Isaac's a really good driver."

"It's alright, son: my sister's lesbian."

Scott grinned. "Are you accompanying us?"

The marine shook his head. "Orders are to transport survivors out to sea. We've got choppers searching the towns and cities and larger ones transporting them out to the Pacific Fleet. There's an operation underway to transform Alcatraz into civilian housing until something more permanent can be established."

"Have you heard anything from back east? From Quantico?"

"That's awfully specific, kid. You know someone stationed there?"

"My dad's in the FBI; he was running a training operation out there."

The marine shook his head. "Sorry, son. They don't tell us much. I'd ask your ticket onto the ship to find out."

"Mr. Argent?"

The marine nodded. "That man's got connections." Suddenly his radio clicked and his removed it from his belt and brought it up to his mouth. "Go ahead."

"Raptor Four, this is Pelican One, over. Prep the civs on the roof; you've got company heading your way; I think they're following us."

"Copy that," Sergeant Duncan replied, motioning to his two men remaining in/on the hummer.

"Need to hold out for an extra minute: Dactyl Six is carrying a gold package."

"Copy that," the Sergeant said again. He lowered the radio and addressed his two men and the 14 civilians before him. "Alright, everyone on the roof. Alvarez, light up the flares. Kinney, activate Operation Siren." He brought the radio up to his mouth again, switching the frequencies. "Noble Team, this is Duncan, over," he said, motioning for Alvarez to lead the way up the rickety metal staircase attached to the side of the large rectangular four-story building.

"Go ahead commander," came the voice of another marine.

"Stay frosty. Siren is in effect in one. We've got company zekes headed our way; remember, headshots or knees. Keep 'em off of us for as long as you can; three choppers in bound, two in one, one in two."

"Copy that, commander," the sniper replied.

"You might wanna' cover your ears," Duncan said, planting a claymore charge after the last person stepped onto the roof. Suddenly, before anyone could, all of the surrounding cars' alarms began to go wild. And right on cue, two choppers descended upon the roof, attempting to hover as close to the rooftop without actually settling down.

"Everybody on board!" the marine surnamed Alvarez yelled, winding his wrist to usher them on board. But even through the quadruple propeller noises and the car alarms down below, the adrenaline rushing through Scott's body focused his senses to such a precision that he could hear them down below. Suddenly there was muzzled sniper fire. Three different rifles. And the zombie growls dispersed in different directions. Some began to trail through the surrounding buildings where two of the snipers were positioned. Others sounded below them, searching for the final sniper. And others that hadn't been ensnared by the alarms were rushing up the metal staircase.

"They're coming!" Scott yelled, trying to warn his marine guardians. The three men couldn't make out what he'd said but the exploding claymore at the staircase signaled the zombies' arrival. Duncan and Alvarez's assault rifles opened rifle, using their shotgun or grenade under-attachments only when necessary. Kinney, however, began to unleash a barrage of high-explosive rounds from his light-machine gun.

Unfortunately, there were too many of them, the zombies arriving doubly than before: one up the upside of the stairs and the other climbing on the outer. Yes, Dactyl Six was making its own descent and soon the spec ops aboard could aid the transport helicopters, but there wasn't enough time. The zombies were within lunging distance and the reload-pattern would soon provide a window for them to get through.

Reid, who was sitting on the outside of the chopper and near the firefight, closed his eyes and inhaled. When he opened his naturally blue eyes they were jet black and right before he exhaled he stretched his palm out. As he exhaled, a singularity of magic elicited from the middle of his hand and it travelled right by Kinney's ear. When it reached just beyond the three marines, it shimmered once like a star in the night sky before erupting, firing an arced torrent of magic at all of the zombies on top of the roof. That created window needed for them to reload safely and allow the third chopper to arrive with air support and drop off their 'gold package.'

Two people, escorted by Duncan on the left flank, boarded the two transport helicopters separately. Pelicans One and Five took off, the packs left only to watch as the zombies soon overran the rooftop, but not before the three marines made it safely onto Dactyl Six. The strange man breathed sporadically, almost as if he could bust into a panic attack at any minute. "Look at me," Scott began, sitting next to the man. "Breathe in." He paused. "Breathe out." He walked the man through the exercise a few more times and soon the man was breathing more normally. "I used to have asthma," Scott said, grinning at him. "I'm Scott, by the way," Scott said, holding out his hand.

"Gavin Newsom," he said, taking Scott's hand and shaking.

"You're—"

"The Governor of California," he confirmed. "Thank you."

"No, thank you. I'm from Beacon Hills and what you've done for the state...just wow."

Chapter Text

"I hope you find your family soon, governor," Scott said right before he heard a transmission come through to their pilot.

"Thank you," Governor Newsom said while Scott eavesdropped.

"Pelican Five you are clear to land," came a voice through the com.

"Copy that, center," their pilot replied before flicking a few switches. Pelican Five, tailed closely by Pelican One began its short descent towards the USS John Paul Jones' landing pad in the rear of the ship. When the chopper set down, a team of United States Navy enlisted were waiting for them and immediately helped in unloading the passengers, beginning, of course, with the Governor of California. An officer, who Scott would meet again later, immediately escorted the elected official to an unknown destination—possibly the bridge—while the rest of Scott's pack and Reid were led to their scrunched quarters.

"Are you gonna' be alright?" Scott asked Isaac behind him, noting the extremely cramped living quarters with four bunks right next teacher other with only three feet between them.

Isaac let out a big exhale, a hand gripping somewhat tightly on Scott's hip. "I'm gonna' try."

"Just remember that time in the closet."

"Oh, I am. Thanks," Isaac added sarcastically, frustrated by the boner in his jeans.

They put their small bags on their beds and followed the rest of the pack to the cafeteria. It was there they saw their missing friends. Scott rushed over to hug his mother tightly and Isaac exchanged greetings with Danny. Reid and Tyler embraced each other like any couple would after being separated for what seemed like days of suspense, even though it had only been a few hours. Scott and Stiles hugged it out and the alpha shook hands with the Sheriff and Mr. Argent. Lydia got some hellos and Scott moved on to his missing two pack mates: Cooper and then Danny. Isaac embraced Melissa like she were his own mother and until he moved on to Stiles.

And only moments later, Derek, Deaton, the Hale Pack, and the twins all entered the cafeteria. The greetings were very estranged if not nonexistent at all. Lydia and Danny avoided Aiden and Ethan respectively. Derek only really greeted Chris Argent, trying to make his presence known and trying to instill that he wasn't going anyway. And Deaton greeted Melissa and the Sheriff like old friends, Melissa more interested in his health and wellbeing than the latter.

"So you're feeling better?" Scott asked Danny while they ate.

"Physically," Danny said, his normal tone and demeanor off.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just been hard to swallow everything that's happening."

Scott heard his beta's heartbeat skip. "We're gonna' make it, though," Scott said, not calling Danny on what was really bothering him. Danny only nodded. "Did you hear from your parents?" Danny shook his head, worry settling over his expression. Allison Clare, who was sitting next to Danny, pulled him into a much needed hug. Scott and Isaac exchanged a meaningless look when he looked across the table and saw Tyler whispering into Reid's ear. For some reason, he couldn't hear what the brunette was saying and his only guess was that it was something obscene because of Reid's expression. Reid looked over at the werewolf couple, both looking back at them, curious as to what was going on.

Isaac leaned into Scott's ear and whispered his own sentiment. "I definitely think I needa' worry."

— | WWZ | —

After a threatening need for dinner, Scott excused himself and followed Chris Argent out of the mess hall and towards the bridge. However, before getting there, they stopped and Mr. Argent knocked on a door to the side. "Come in," came another unfamiliar, yet stern and authoritative voice. When Scott followed Chris Argent into the office, and the latter shut the door behind him, Scott noted the man before them. Sitting behind a small desk was a man just younger than Gerard before his arrival in Beacon Hills. "How was supper?" the man asked, Chris, only glancing once at Scott.

"Rubbish, as usual," Argent replied, leaning forward and taking the man's hand.

"So, this is the young man you were telling me about?" the officer asked.

"This is Scott McCall. Scott, this is Captain Sully Hancock, commanding officer of the ship."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," Scott said, stepping forward and taking man's hand as the officer stood to shake.

"Christopher tells me you've turned out to be quite the alpha." Scott immediately looked over at Chris, stunned that that was what came out of the officer's mouth. "It's alright, son, Christopher and I go way back. I know all about you and your kind."

"I…I didn't know," Scott said, still flabbergasted.

"He also mentioned that you brought a couple of Hales on board my ship."

Scott's heart began to beat even faster than it had been upon the revelation. "Derek and his sister are friends of mine," Scott said, disguising the threat. But Hancock picked up on it as if Scott had pointed a gun at the officer.

Hancock only laughed, deep from within his gut. "You were right, Christopher, he's very protective."

"It's alright, Scott," Argent began, "everyone is safe aboard this ship. Even Derek."

"With all due respect, I hope so," Scott began, looking from Chris to Hancock. "Otherwise, I know two gentlemen who would be very angry at the loss of their friends." Argent only looked at Scott, taken aback by the now direct threat.

"I like you, son," Hancock said, leaning forward and resting his arms on his desk. "The Navy could use someone with spunk like you."

Scott smiled this time. "I appreciate that, sir, but my dad is in the FBI—I've seen what service does to people."

Hancock grinned even wider. "Well, enough jeering I suppose. Down to business. Because Christopher, here, is old friend, I'm letting you know that things aren't looking great. We've lost most major cities around the world. The President is dead. And whatever's spreading this is moving too fast for us. By the end of the first day we lost two billion people. Now, as far as your pack and friends are concerned, the Alcatraz Reallocation Project should be completed tomorrow evening. When it is, you and your friends will be given priority housing."

"Thank you, sir. If I may ask, I mentioned my father. He was stationed at Quantico last I heard; is there any news out that way?"

"I'm afraid Quantico went dark a few hours ago. Obviously, I can't speak to your father's status, but the Marine Corps did lose contact with the base."

Scott only nodded.

"Were you close?"

"No, sir. My mom is on board and she's my main priority. Well, she and my pack."

"Of course. Well, that'll be all for now. I need to get back to the bridge. And Christopher, make sure we don't have an outbreak of another kind," he warned, referring, of course, to the werewolf curse.

— | WWZ | —

After returning to his friends, Scott asked Isaac, Stiles, Derek, and Deaton to follow him. He gave his mom a kiss and the five men walked off in search of somewhere secluded that they could talk. Eventually, they found an unlocked door to one of the engine rooms and they shuffled inside.

"What a wonderful place you've found us," Stiles said sarcastically, mostly hinting at the loud pressurized air sound.

"Look, we gotta' make this quick," Scott said. "Argent took me to meet the commanding officer. He told me that all major cities have been hit. Globally." Scott watched Stiles' jaw drop and Deaton's eyes close in despair. "The President is also dead."

Stiles snorted in disbelief and shook his head. "This just keeps getting better." Derek glared at him, intent on listening to his fellow alpha and not appreciating his sprinting towards hysteria.

"But here's the thing, we," Scott continued, indicating between himself, Isaac, and Derek, "know there's a cure." Deaton's eyebrow lifted and Stiles dawned his classic confused face. "The bite. Danielle got attacked on the way to the base. Derek bit her after she turned into a zombie. And now she's back to being normal, albeit a werewolf."

"Interesting," Deaton only said.

"How did you know that would work?" Derek said out of pure curiosity.

"When we were at Danielle's parents' house," Scott said, "Isaac got attacked. One of 'em bit him in the shoulder. Nothing happened. Why? I think we're immune. Even more, every time we've fought them, they always come at us. They always bypass Reid or Danielle or you," Scott said, pointing at Deaton. "I think they know. Somehow they know we're a threat to them. Or rather, our bite is," he said, indicating he and Derek.

"So what, we turn every zombie into a werewolf then?" Stiles posed sarcastically again. "And then what? Is being a werewolf gonna' be the next step in evolution. Is there gonna' be some werewolf regime now?"

"Stiles—" Scott began, now getting irritated by his irrationality.

"No, I'm serious," Stiles continued. "Okay, so the bite is the curse. What do we do with it, then?"

"I don't know!" Scott yelled. "Look," Scott continued more calmly, "I didn't tell Argent, or Hancock. Yes, he knows about us."

"Sullivan Hancock?" Deaton asked. Scott nodded. "And you made it out alive. Interesting."

"You know this guy?"

"No, but I know of him. He's an old friend of the Argents. Provides them with most of their assets. In his youth, he and Gerard were known as two of the most notorious hunters. He's responsible for a great number of deaths on your side."

"Wow…just wow," Stiles expressed again.

"Stiles," Scott said, looking directly at his cracking best friend and emissary, "get it together." Stiles looked away, and then nodded.

"We should keep this to ourselves," Derek said. "If the hunters get wind of this, they might just decide that repopulating over a longer period of time is better than a so-called cure. So for now, we should wait."

"Agreed," Deaton said. "Especially given our current company. You may have a truce with the Argents, Scott, but I wouldn't count on Hancock, no matter what he told you." Scott nodded.

"If this guy is a real threat," Isaac finally chimed in, "then I won't risk your safety," he finished, looking right at Scott. Scott's expression softened and their hands clasped.

"Stiles?" Scott said. Stiles had his thinking face on, and the alpha knew it could be a minute.

And it was. Stiles took a few minutes before finally saying, "I think unless we absolutely have to use the bite, we should bury it. No one else know but us." They all nodded. "By the way, I made a discovery of my own." This time it was Scott's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Your mom and I got into a sticky situation and I tried to use mountain ash to keep them out. Didn't work."

"I think that answers your question from earlier," Deaton directed at Scott. "It probably isn't supernatural, especially given the bite's effect on it. It treats it like any other disease."

"Oh, one more thing," Scott said; all eyes shifted to him. "They're shipping us to Alcatraz."

Chapter Text

"Scott McCall?" came an enlisted's voice while Scott and party were packing up their personal affects.

"Yeah?" Scott said, approaching the soldier only a few years older than him—probably Reid's age.

"Governor Newsom has requested you meet him in his personal quarters." Scott nodded and looked into Isaac's eyes before following the blue-camo-clad soldier through the ship. Once at Newsom's door, he knocked once and the governor signaled to enter. "I'll be right outside when you're done," the soldier said to Scott and closed the door behind him.

"Good to see you, Scott," Newsom said from his chair, rising to shake Scott's hand.

"Governor?" Scott replied, taking the hand.

"I, uh, I heard you're leaving the ship tonight."

"My family and friends are being relocated to Alcatraz. They're supposed to have spots reserved for us."

"Well, I hope you stay safe there." Newsom paused and then turned around, leaning on his arms on the small nightstand-sized table next to the bed; the room was tiny, but personal enough.

"Governor?" Scott said, immediately sensing the worry, fear, and sorrow coming off the man.

"I…sorry it's just—"

"You're worried about your family. I get it," Scott said, trying emote hope through an attempted reassuring smile. "Look, governor—"

"I want you to have something," he said, interrupting. He opened the top drawer and retrieved an old pocket watch. "I was going to give this to Hunter—my son—when he was old enough, but…"

"You'll see him again," Scott promised.

"Even still, helping me breath, talking the way we did on the flight over. Thank you. This is just a small token and I hope we'll see each other again; in good health," he added lightly, smirking. "And if we ever manage to get some normalcy back—and I have an office to return to—look me up. I'll always have a spot open for you."

Scott nodded. He turned to leave but stopped and brought himself to face the Governor of California again. "I want you to know, that if you ever find your family in need of a cure—of anything, not just this—I want you to know that I'm…gifted…with something that can help." Newsom's face suddenly dawned confusion. "I…there are people who walk among you that possess a remarkable ability to heal. I'm one of 'em. And I'm offering that gift to you so if you ever need help, all you need to do is ask."

"Scott what are you talking—" But Newsome stopped dead mid-sentence, his eyes widening slightly and his jaw dropping a little. Scott's eyes flashed red and Newsom knew that was no mistake or trick of the eye.

"Stay safe, governor, and I hope you see your family soon," Scott concluded. He exited the room and followed the soldier back to his bunk, all the while staring at the watch, the inside engraved with 'W.A.N. III'.

— | WWZ | —

"Scott," Danny began quietly next to his alpha on the helicopter; Melissa was next to Scott's other side and Isaac was across from him.

"Hmm?" Scott replied, looking into his beta's face.

"I…I lied to you…yesterday on the ship." Scott only continued to look at Danny with an unchanged expression. "I…when I was leaving UCLA…something happened." Danny paused and immediately tears began to drip from his eyes, falling in fast beads that skipped down his cheeks.

"Danny, it's okay. You don't have to—"

"I want to…I need to…" Scott wrapped an arm around Danny's shoulder and pulled him in. "I…I was dating someone. And he…Josh…he, uh, he…" But Danny couldn't find the words. His tears only became more torturous and his breathing hitched in his throat. Danny continued to sob but only when he finally calmed down more he was able to finish. "He…one of them attacked me. But Josh, he jumped in front of it and…God I tried to get him help. I knew he wasn't breathing anymore. They got his throat. And that's when I got hit…by the truck. And I…I left him there." Scott squeezed his beta hard, breathing heavy himself and looking over at Isaac. The blonde looked rather disheveled by the story and it looked as though he was sharing the exact same thoughts that were running through Scott's mind: 'What if it had been you…'

— | WWZ | —

"These are your quarters," the United States Army soldier said, leading Scott, Isaac, Reid, and Tyler to their refurbished room within the former main cellhouse of Alcatraz Penitentiary; above their room at the end there rested a small placard that read: 'Frank Morris'. All of the cells had their walls knocked in between each of them and replaced with a lighter dividing material placed in intervals that allowed two single beds with two feet between them to be placed in each room. For 'front walls,' plexiglass had been placed before each cell with a door-sized cut out and from the inside curtains could be drawn over from wall to wall for privacy.

"This is lovely," Isaac said sarcastically.

"I could cast a spell so you think it's a Hilton," Tyler offered, smirking.

"Could you, that'd be great," Isaac teased back.

In order to save on space and squeeze as many survivors onto the island as possible, couples were given a single bed. So Scott and Isaac shared a bed in the room where Reid and Tyler shared a bed. Stiles and Gage in a room with Aiden and Lydia (who'd rekindled to some degree while on the ship). Allison and David Clare in one room. The Sheriff and Melissa in another. Van and Barrett in a room. Cooper and Cora. Derek and Danielle with Deaton in the other bed. Allison and her father. And Danny and Ethan in the final room—a situation which Danny wasn't very happy about.

"So what do you wanna' do first," Reid began, plopping down on the bed as Tyler clambered on top of him, "be bored or be bored?"

"We could be bored together?" Tyler offered, leaning down and kissing the blonde.

"Already? Really?" Scott asked, cross his arms as he leaned against the inner wall on his side of the room. "We're younger and werewolves and we're not—mmph." Isaac pressed his lips against Scott's so the alpha was no longer complaining.

But as Isaac snaked his hands under the backside of Scott's shirt, there was suddenly a few raps on the curtain-covered plexiglass wall. "Hey, Scott, can I talk to you?" It was Chris Argent and Scott could hear a second heartbeat with him.

"Yeah," Scott said, his breath a little taken away and he snaked out of Isaac's hold on him. He sneaked out of the curtain and saw that it was Derek—not Allison. "What's up?"

"I was talking to the man in charge here," Argent began. "Colonel McHenry. He's looking for volunteers to form a civilian police for the island. I wanted to know if you and Derek would talk to your packs. And maybe you could ask the two…what are they again?"

"Warlocks," Scott answered, knowing Argent had witnessed Tyler igniting cars during their run from zombies back in Porterville. Scott knocked on the plexiglass. "Hey, Reid, can you come out here?" The blonde emerged a moment later, his lips a little redder than normal and he looked expectantly at Scott. "Chris wants to know if you and Tyler'd be interested in joining a sort of police force for the island. Well, the pack, too, but he wanted to know about you two."

"Not really our thing," Reid answered nonchalantly. "I don't really play nice with others and I'm not a fan of guns…for obvious reasons," he added with a smirk."

Chris went to push him further but Scott interrupted. "I'll talk to my pack and I'll let you know in a little bit."

"I'll do the same," Derek said. Argent nodded, dropping his protest to the warlock and walked off with Derek as Scott and Reid reentered their room.

The sight before them as they walked in, however, stunned them before causing them both to smirk: on both beds lay each their almost naked-partners, Isaac clad only in his boxer-trunks and Tyler clad only in his pair of briefs. Reid moved first: almost tearing off his shirt and unbuckling his jeans as he walked over to the bed. Scott stripped off his own shirt as Reid got completely naked in one more motion, taking his own underwear, jeans, socks, and shoes off in it. Reid clambered on top of Tyler just as Scott was trying to undo his buckle, Isaac pulling him over by it as the alpha was too excited to do it properly. Isaac pulled them down from his position and laid back, watching Scott slip them over his sock-clad feet and climb on top of him.

"C'mon," Isaac panted between their lips, "we may not have a lot of time. And I need you." Scott nodded, kissing him a few more times before sliding to his feet so Isaac could get on all fours. Scott climbed back on knees-first and leaned over Isaac's back. He slipped two fingers into the blonde's mouth and began to grind his erection between the beta's cheeks. 'Fuck…' came from across the room and they both turned to see Reid already pounding into the brunette beneath him. "Scott…" Isaac cooed as his brunette removed his own fingers and quickly pushed them into his awaiting hole. The beta immediately pushed back on them and groaned, yipping as Scott drew them harshly out.

"Can't do it…can't wait," Scott panted into Isaac's ear before slipping his slickened cock into Isaac.

"Jesus…" Isaac breathed, his head drooping between his outstretched arms as Scott didn't wait even a second before moving. His alpha wrapped his arms around his torso, one snaking down to his own erection bouncing between his legs. "Don't…too soon." So Scott stopped and only caressed his abs, instead sending pleasure through Isaac by running the blonde's ear through the gap in his teeth. "Scott!" It was louder than they'd wanted, and Scott slipped a finger from his other hand in Isaac's mouth to suck on. He groaned around that finger, sliding his tongue around the digit as he pushed back to meet Scott's pounding hips.

"Reid…" Tyler moaned from the other bed and soon a foreign smell of cum fill the werewolves' nostrils. Tyler was still stomach-flat against their bed and Reid was still relentlessly driving into his widespread-hairy ass.

"Now," Isaac demanded and Scott immediately obliged, wrapping a warm hand tightly around Isaac's member while hitting that spot relentlessly. Isaac came hard, Scott's name on his whimpering lips.

And that's when Tyler through Reid off of him, back onto his heels. "What?" Reid asked, half irritated half sexually frustrated. Isaac finished coming and did the same, pushing Scott away.

"We…we have something…hah…special planned," Isaac said, arching his back, his spine cracking before standing up. Their tops each looked curiously at the bottoms they just fucked, and Isaac and Tyler smirked back at them, almost evilly.

"We know how much you want each other," Tyler said, rolling onto his side so his naked backside was flush with the cement wall. Reid immediately looked at Scott and then, awkwardly after a moment, looked down at Tyler, whose grin widened even more.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Scott tried to feign innocently. But he was too nervous to even make it sound believable, let alone control his skipping, lying heartbeat,

"It's okay, Scott," Isaac said, walking over to the kneeling brunette on their bed. "We know you love us, that there's nothing more between you than some sexual tension. We just…well we want you to know that you can get it out without any fuss from us."

Scott only looked at Isaac completely stunned, baffled by the words that had just left his boyfriend's mouth. But Reid, the devilish blonde, looked from Tyler, to Scott, to Tyler's white teeth, to Scott's naked form. He smirked at the scenario before him and walked over to Scott. "C'mon, Scott," Reid said, placing a hand on the alpha's muscular bicep. Scott looked at Isaac, and then into Reid's eyes, to his lips. He licked his own and Reid leaned forward, pulling Scott a little forward so the brunette would have to shuffle forward until their lips met. And something clicked. A switch seemed to have been turned. A valve had been turned that sent lust and desire exploding through the air like a chemical weapon.

Upon their lips first colliding, their hands immediately grabbed to the other's body. They roamed. The felt. Their skin met. Chest to chest. Hips to hips. Thighs to thighs. Erection pressing against erection between their defined abdomens. They both dared to look, too; that was the whole point. Neither of them had experienced another outside Isaac or Tyler before this. Yes, Isaac and Scott had included Danny back in high school once. But that paled to this. This was something more. Something fiery. Captivating. Intoxicating.

Reid laid down on Scott and Isaac's bed, a spot next to his spine laying in Isaac's cum. He pulled the shorter Scott down on top of him and for the first time Scott felt as nervous as he had in high school, back when being sexual was a new thing. But as he continued to make out with Reid, smells of all sorts clouding his mind on top of the heated passion between he and the bleach blonde, Isaac was there to settle his nerves. Yes, Isaac was behind him as Scott was sprawled atop the older warlock, prodding his tongue deep between his cheeks. And, yes, Scott's mind became even more clouded and his heart only raced even more—but it was comforting to have him there.

That comfort gave Scott the boost he needed. He zoned in on everything about Reid. The way his skin moved. The way his muscles writhed. The taste in his mouth. On his tongue. The feel of his straight hair. The smell of his breath that he inevitably shared and took in. The feel of his firm, warm hands over his body. Reid was an animal, in a purely different sense than the instinctual feral sex between he and Isaac. Reid was a sexual master. A deviant. An incubus. And he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew exactly where to put his hands and when to move them. When to thrust up into Scott and how to kiss him. When to close his eyes and reopen them so that they could share that kiss as memorable as possible.

"Gotta' have you," Reid finally said against Scott's abused lips. "Gotta' have this," he said, squeezing Scott's globes to annunciate his point. Scott nodded, stealing another passionate kiss before Reid pushed up on Scott. Scott got up onto the floor and leaned over on the bed. Tyler handed Reid a condom when the wolves looked at them funny.

"We're immune to the zombie virus," Scott said, "I'll be fine." Reid smirked and nodded, coating his dick with the lube Tyler had also dug out of one of their bags.

"Ready?" Reid teased, resting the cooler tip against Scott's squelching entrance. Not even daring to answer, Scott just pushed back and Reid's head fell back in ecstasy. "I guess so," he said in a half laugh, pushing forward. He rested his hands on Scott's waist and took a moment for himself. And has he began to pull out to thrust back in, he felt something at his own ass. There was Tyler, knelt behind him, his face burying itself in Reid's light-hair fuzzed ass, his tongue lapping at his own hole. "Fuck me…" Reid groaned and heard a 'mmph' in front of him.

He lifted his head to see two hands threaded through Scott's now messy dark hair, pulling Scott forward as the alpha took Isaac's dick between his lips. Isaac was kneeling like Tyler, but on the bed and with his own head fallen back just as Reid's had been. And that knowledge caused him to spike forward when a jolt coursed through his body. And Scott whimpered around Isaac's dick. Isaac breathed harder himself and his hands moved delectably through those locks. Reid reached one of his own hands back and drove it through the back of Tyler's hair, encouraging him to prod deeper. And when he did, when his tongue breached Reid's rings of muscle, Reid was done. All the ministrations and fucking earlier did it.

He came hard into Scott, doubling forward so his arms stretched straight on Scott's upper back. He plowed into him, milking his orgasm excruciatingly well at all that Scott's tightness provided him. And when he finally managed to open his clamped eyes he no longer saw Isaac's head, only his ass. He knew he was underneath Scott's torso, and the slurping popping sound from Scott's dick confirmed it. So Reid did his best to continue and another round of pounding Scott's prostate pushed the alpha over the edge. Scott burst deep into Isaac's mouth, swearing and taking Isaac's name to his lips. Scott, too, hunched over, the spasming pleasure coursing through his body forcing him to grab hold of Isaac's previously pounded cheeks.

Reid gathered himself and stood back up straight, pulling Scott up with him. He pulled Scott's face back and their lips began to meld, their tongue sharing each other again, their eyes blissfully closed. Scott found warm lips on his neck, sharp fangs grazing his skin; Reid, too, felt a pair on his ear and hands on his waist. Reid pulled out of Scott, letting his flaccid dick fall and Scott pushed back against it. And then Reid and Scott's kiss broke and their lips moved to their partners, Scott tasting much of himself in Isaac's taste and Reid tasting his own ass on Tyler's tongue.

"We're videotaping that next time," Reid said, leaning forward to seductively lick the outside of Scott's ear. He shuddered while the other two smirked.

"Who said there'd be a next time?" Tyler posed, wrapping his arms around Reid's abdomen.

"I didn," Reid replied, "'cuz that was fucking hot."

Chapter Text

Dinner the next evening was rather quiet within the McCall Pack. Yes, the Clare siblings were holding a rather boring conversation about the irritants within the cellblock. But apart from them, everyone was quiet. Cooper was his normal self: introverted to his own detriment. Danny was upset with having to sit next to Ethan, the latter of which was doing his best to apologize to Danny for leaving abruptly those years ago. Gage was giving Stiles the silent treatment because Stiles was giving Scott and Isaac the silent treatment. And Melissa, bless her heart, gave up hours ago at trying to figure out what was wedging itself between the long best friends' relationship.

"I said I was sorry," Scott said pleadingly, looking up at Stiles, who was glaring down at his paper tray of 'food.' After a moment, when Stiles only continued to twirl the fork in his noodles, Scott tried again. "Stiles, c'mon…" Again, nothing.

But then Scott watched some obscure movements across from him and Stiles looked up at Gage with a scowl: she had kicked him several times under the table. Her eyes bulged and she made a nod towards Scott, urging him to reciprocate the olive branch the alpha was extending. Stiles looked back down at his food but then sighed reluctantly. His eyes glanced up at Scott's angelic face and then right back down at his tray. "I know…I know you couldn't put a sock anywhere but…I just wish I had a little warning."

Scott nodded but couldn't help but smirk, too. "I'm sorry," Scott said, amusement sneaking behind his voice. Stiles looked up and shook his head, a smile breaking through his resolve.

"You're an ass," Stiles said.

"Just because you can't have mine—" Scott began to tease.

"Don't make me poison your breakfast," Stiles said with a kidding-frown. Scott only grinned wider. Suddenly, Isaac's phone's alarm went off and almost all of them looked at it.

"Shift starts in ten," Isaac answered, referring to his and Scott's police shift atop the power plant.

Scott immediately stood up, wiping his face with his napkin before leaning down and kissing his mother's cheek. "I love, you," he said as she smiled up at him. Isaac kissed her, too, and the pair proceeded to speedily walk out of the cafeteria.

— | WWZ | —

Scott and Isaac, after leaving the security headquarters-formerly the guardhouse-after retrieving their assigned rifles, continued along the northeast side of the island to the electrical-operations building. They made their way up the side of the metal stairs and relieved the last four hour-shift occupants and their eyes turned on like flashlights, two red and two yellow, each gazing out at the sea. Each of the security personnel was, after checking in, assigned an older semi-automatic Smith & Wesson M&P10 rifle, a small LED flashlight, and a short-wave Walmart-brand walkie talkie that contained only four frequencies. Alcatraz Island itself, however, was protected by an Oliver Hazard Perry-class frigate, the FFG-41 USS McClusky, which circumnavigated the island continually to prevent anything seafaring to come to the island.

"So this is fun," Isaac said first, his legs dangling over the side of the roof.

"At least we get some us time," Scott offered, taking a place on Isaac's left.

"There's that," Isaac said. "So, you and Reid," Isaac said with a smirk, only his eyes glancing over at Scott.

"Are a figment of your imagination," Scott finished.

"Tell your ass that."

"You know, you're the one who forced us—"

"Scott, I'm kidding," Isaac said, pulling the brunette into him. Scott didn't reply but his heart quickly settled. But when Scott's face didn't reflect the same, Isaac was forced to reassure him more. "Scott, I promise; I know you would never…leave me, cheat on me, whatever. Tyler and I just thought it'd be nice for you guys to get the tension out in the open. We wanted you to have fun…with our blessing…and I…I wanted you to experience something new. I promise I'm not mad. And I'll never hold it against you. I was just teasing…promise."

Scott nodded against his beta's shoulders and his heartbeat fully returned to normal. "I love you, Isaac. I just want you to know that."

"I do," Isaac said. He kissed the top of Scott's head through his brown locks and breathed him in. His heart fluttered at it all and the moment would have almost perfect until their radio clicked.

"Posts One and Three, over," came a voice.

"This is Post Three," Isaac spoke into the radio.

"Post One here," came another, "what's up?"

"This is Post Four. We might have a possible unauthorized ship approaching. Can you confirm?"

Both Isaac and Scott got to their feet and focused their eyes as vividly as possible. "Post Four, this is Three," Isaac began, "Confirm that sighting. Alert central?"

"Copy that, Three," said the voice from Post Four. "Doesn't appear to be slowing down either."

Isaac switched the frequency designated for central. "Central, this is Post Three. We have two confirmed sightings of a fishing boat headed for shore at full speed."

"Copy that, Three. Prep for combat. Alerting the frigate, over."

"Copy that, Central." Isaac lifted his rifle from the ground and clacked it, Scott following the same. Scott looked at him, though, an amused smile spread across his face. "What?" Isaac began, "Camden and I used to play with radios when we were younger."

"I'm glad you did," Scott said, bumping their sides together before they both took aim at the oncoming vessel, or rather where it would impact the island. Suddenly, four other security members appeared just south of that possible collision spot, each of them approaching cautiously. When the fishing ship finally did approach the shore, it did in fact slam head on into the shorter cliffside of the island. With their super-hearing, the couple heard a number guns clack, more than just the four taking positions near the ship.

But before Scott could look around to find all of his allies, he heard it. His eyes and attention immediately snapped back to the ship right when a zombie flung himself over board and onto one of the four. And that's how it began. The ship unleashed six more zombies and only one of them was taken down before the virus began to spread. All four guards soon succumbed to the fate the world was seemingly doomed to meet and the zombies were spreading out, hunting.

Scott looked over at Isaac right as he squeezed off a shot, nailing one in the front of the neck but not taking it down. "Shit," he swore, clacking another bullet into chamber. But Scott, stopped him from taking another shot.

"Central," Scott said, taking the radio from Isaac, "zombies are on the island. Repeat, zombies are on the island." The radio double clicked and Scott knew they heard it but were probably too preoccupied with the matter to respond fully. "We need to get back to the others," Scott said, looking behind them to the west to see the lights of the USS McClusky off in the distance—it could be all over before the navy could get there. Without thinking, Scott inhaled hard before letting out a full howl, causing Isaac's eyes to glow and his fangs to draw out. It was meant to warn the others, and soon the island-wide alarm followed.

They darted past the old water tower, only to hear a blaze of gunfire from inside the guardhouse to their left. But Scott and Isaac just pushed forward, rifles still in hand. They quickly made their way inside only to find the new residential building congested and filled with cries of terror. They forced their way through the crowds, past some other guards stations inside and found Derek and his pack. "Where're the others?" Scott said hurriedly. And Derek answered him, but it was drowned in the wailing high-pitched screams coming from behind them: the zombies had breach the residence and it would only be a matter of time before it would consume the building.

Derek pulled on Scott's shirt and soon the group of eight were pushing with the crowd, desperate to make their way through the hallway and outside from the southern exit. As they did so, the sound continuously got louder and louder, the cries of those behind them slowly dying and being replaced by a new sound.

The group finally made it outside, Derek leading them to the open parade ground and that's where Scott saw his own pack, mom, Stiles' dad, and the warlocks. Scott and Isaac handed Deaton and the Sheriff the rifles and turned to see only zombies rushing out of the building now. And they were snatching and darting and spearing at those left fleeing. Stiles and his father took several shots, Deaton struggling with the gun. The rest of the supernaturals took stances, ready to fight them off when they heard the familiar sound of saving grace above them. Three smaller helicopters were in bound, 20 seconds from being able to airlift as many people out of there.

So Reid and Tyler took it upon themselves to make up as much time as possible and caused the old lighthouse to crash down upon the residence, preventing any more from escaping the building. Tyler took Deaton's still-jammed gun and tossed it into the oncoming horde, flashing his eyes and causing it to explode and sending metal piercing into more of them. Rope ladders began to drop down from above and human survival instinct kicked in. The other two helicopters became preoccupied with people fighting over living another day while the packs, nearest to one ladder, began to send everyone up. When other people tried to fight for that one, too, the inner beasts came out in the form of visible fangs and claws and flashes of eyes.

"Reid, Tyler!" Scott cried, watching Tyler holding up an invisible barrier before him, Reid sending a great deal of the horde flying with chaos explosions from the ground. They turned when called and ran, past Scott, Derek, and Isaac. That's when fire from the sea came in: the USS McClusky began to unleash a barrage of machine gun fire from its four .50-cal mounts and heavier explosive fire from its single OTO Melara Mk 75 76 mm/62 caliber naval gun.

Derek began to climb first, not really able to get far because those of the packs that couldn't fit inside were resolved to hang on the ladder, Derek just under Tyler, under Reid, under Cooper, under Barrett, under David. "Scott, go!" Isaac yelled when some of the zombies made it past the oncoming fire. Other people were panicking and began to run from the helicopters, many jumping into the water and others hoping to outrun the horde by running north along the western-side of the island. Scott shook his head but the call of his name from Derek forced him to do otherwise. Isaac took a defensive stance, ready to slice through any on-comers. And that's when a shot from the frigate got too close. And that's when the chopper swerved to avoid the shot, indicating that it was leaving. And that's especially when Isaac was thrown backwards when the VULCANO shell exploded within range of the blonde.

"Isaac!" Scott cried, the helicopter just flying over the cliffside as he did so.