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being a difficult patient.”
    “Imagine that,” Bishop said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Hard to picture Nick being anything but a low-key, meek, cooperative soul.”
    Both of them had a good laugh over the vision conjured by the Texan’s words. Both felt a little sorry for the staff at the hospital.
    “As far as making you that promise,” Bishop continued, “No deal. I’m not the smartest guy in the country, but I’m not the dumbest either. Other than you, no one makes Nick do a damn thing he doesn’t want to.”
    “He’ll listen to you, and you know it’s true. Please, Bishop, I don’t want him trying to do too much too soon and having a relapse.”
    Nodding, Bishop responded, “I remember when Terri and I were bugging out from Houston and I took a bullet… lost a lot of blood. Getting shot by those kidnappers was even worse. I was on the same floor of that hospital for weeks,” he paused as his brain surged with memories. “It’s tough. Your mind is just fine. It wants to get up and move, do things, and start living again. But your body won’t cooperate. It’s a difficult, frustrating situation to manage. No worries, Diana. You have my word that I’ll do my best to help my hardheaded friend deal with it.”
    “Thanks. By the way, speaking of hardheaded, I’ve got a scheduled call with an old associate of yours today, the President of those United States.”
    Bishop laughed, “Why do you surround yourself with these types of men? Give the Colonel… err… I mean the president, my regards.”
    Diana hesitated for just a moment, and then said, “I’d like for you to be there, Bishop. It’s going to be an important call, and normally I’d have Nick at my side. I could use a sounding board.”
    “Of course,” Bishop replied. “I’ll do my best. Besides, it will be good to say hello to the Colonel again.”
    A smile lit Diana’s face, “Thank you. I swear I won’t be burdening you with this crap much longer. You’ve been a wonderful friend these last few weeks. I don’t know if I could have made it through without you.”
    Bishop waved her off, “You would… and have done the same for Terri and me. None of us would have survived the apocalypse without each other. Together, we’re all stronger.”
    The Alliance’s leader nodded and then turned her attention to the passing West Texas countryside. Bishop had been there for her, filling a void created by Nick’s absence. Like no one else in the bubble that surrounded her office, she could share her fears, anger, and doubts with him. He would never betray her… or Nick. He would never run off at the mouth or wield her humanness as a political weapon.
    She wondered how many of history’s great leaders had benefited from such a trustworthy circles of advisors. Probably all of them , she decided.
    Bishop had been there when the monthly report estimating the death toll in Alliance territory had arrived. While outright famine no longer racked the population, disease and illness associated with years of malnutrition were still reaping thousands of souls every month. There simply weren’t enough doctors or medicine to go around. Diana had been devastated by the document’s projection that another 40,000 had perished, a large majority of which were children under the age of ten years.
    She had wept on Bishop’s shoulder for over half an hour, confident he wouldn’t judge her too weak or inadequate to lead the Alliance.
    And then there was the anniversary of her adopted son’s death. A horrible day that she dreaded every time it rolled around on the calendar. Atlas had died with honor, saving her church and its flock from being overrun, but that made little difference to the grieving mother who could still feel the warmth of his blood on her hands.
    It wasn’t always sorrow or grief. Anger was a constant companion to those who lead the recovery. On the day after reading about sick, dying children, Diana was informed of a man-made