From west to east, a sustained wind shifted snowflakes from rooftops to tree branches to bushes to the ground—an effort to bury the world from above. Deserted, the street lay untouched, blanketed in white powder underneath tree limbs stripped bare from autumn’s task. Beside the snow-covered cars along the curb, metal poles jutted out from beneath the snow like stubborn weeds. A man with a shotgun slung across his front wiped one of the parking meter domes clean. “Time expired,” he read before looking back to his companions, both with rifles in hand. “Not for us though.”

“Hey Griff, they say what they wanted?” one of the lesser men asked. “Pretty important if it’s a face-to-face, right?”

“They want to resume trade again now that they’ve bounced back from their little…” Griffin stifled a snicker. “Setback.”

“You happy with what happened?”

“Happy…?” For a second, he considered whether or not it was true. “Naw, not really. Can’t complain about them getting knocked down a peg, though.” Reconsidering the implications of the statement, he turned, scolding them, “But don’t start thinking they won’t try something. Weakened or not, O’Brien held the Butcher under his command and shouldn’t be taken lightly. I know he’s up to something. Just not sure what yet.”

“I’m more worried about the ones that took him out.”

“There’s always a bigger fish.” Griffin smiled. “The Butcher found out the hard way.”

The men swallowed before nodding, then marched onward, storefront to storefront, their bootprints stretching a mile behind them.

Up ahead, below an awning at the end of the block, a cigarette passed between frigid hands. The strangers’ rifles leaned against the brick wall while puffs of smoke wafted into the air. Both men read cocky. Both without a care in the world. Their faces turned toward the approaching group, and three distinct raps sounded against the framed glass door to the coffee shop.

The creak of a window from the shop’s second floor caught Griffin’s attention. A muzzle protruded from inside, and all three of the men turned their palms toward the sky.

The blonde stranger crooked an eyebrow. “You Griffin?” Smoke rolled from his mouth.

Griffin nodded, squaring up to the man.

“Leave your weapon there,” the other stranger said, gesturing toward his own. “Not hiding anything, right?”

“Nope.” Griffin set his shotgun’s barrel to the brick and stepped forward, pressing his hands to the glass door. Without hesitating, the man slipped behind him, handsy with his pat-down. Quick. Intrusive. Then it was over.

Shaking off the discomfort, Griffin straightened his clothing. “You get a good enough handful down there?”

“He’s good, huh?” The blonde stranger swept a piece of hair back under his sock hat and popped a single cigarette from its pack. “Looks like you could use a smoke to help you relax.”

Not amused, Griffin simply glared at the men then deadpanned, “Me and your boss have business. Time to get the fuck on.”

“Your men gotta wait outside with us.”

A string of bells jingled as Griffin pulled the door outward. He framed himself in the jambs, cautiously taking in the situation. To his left, in the meager daylight, sat O’Brien, his feet propped atop a long, green crate at the foot of his table. A brisk smile, discreet. “Sit,” he said. “This’ll be brief.”

Griffin scraped the metal chair across the floor to sit. “Been good?”

“Good enough. You?”

“About the same.”

O’Brien straightened in his chair, taking his feet from the crate. “Got something for you. Got more like it if we can come to an agreement.” He opened the crate. Inside, a bazooka, a few rockets. “Go on.” With a dip of his chin, he urged Griffin to grab it. “See how it feels.”

Griffin’s chest shook—the laughter stuck in his throat. “You serious?” Beaming, unable to help it, he lifted the bazooka from the crate and onto his shoulder. “Thought it would’ve been heavier.”

“Simple to operate. It’s finding the rockets that’s tricky, but all this is yours if you want it.”

“What’s the catch?” Griffin set the impressive weapon back into the crate.

“No catch. This one’s on the house.”

Griffin furrowed his brow but said nothing.

“Trading with us has always been sort of a… guilty pleasure of yours. Believe me, I get why you’re hiding your dealings with us from your camp. We can be an unsavory sort. Not everyone tolerates what we do.” He licked his lips. “But, there is another bazooka and nearly ten more rockets for your camp if you can help me out with something.”

“Winter’s a bit tougher to give up food and fuel.” Griffin exhaled his frustration. “I want to, believe me. We’d be untouchable with two of ’em. I just—”

“Let me stop you right there. I’m not asking for any of that. We’re rebuilding the Butcher’s operation. You know what I need.”

Griffin lifted his gaze, eyeing a ceiling fan overhead.

“A young one. Healthy. Do that and the other shoulder cannons yours too. Like you said, you’d be untouchable with both.”

A sinister grin consumed Griffin’s face. “I know just the one.”

“Give us a couple days, and we’ll be there to pick her up.”

The floorboard let out a sharp crack. Matt’s head spun around, his eyes wide as he mouthed, “Be careful!”

Jenny couldn’t help but wince. Her head creaked up and down with a slow nod. She forced a hand to her chest, trying to keep the pounding of her heart from echoing beyond her body. Deep breaths. She pressed each subsequent board lightly with her boot, testing each one before moving forward.

Matt waved for her to hurry. Jenny threw her hands in the air. “Which is it?” Her whisper was fierce.

“Both,” he snapped back. Matt reached for her, and Jenny grabbed hold—their pulses racing together, hand in hand. She mirrored each of his steps toward an open door at the end of the hallway. “Stay close…”

No shit.

Jenny kept low behind Matt as he peeked through the gap in the door, attempting to clear the bedroom before deciding on whether to enter. The bathroom and office down the hallway were passed by—there was nowhere to hide. Matt gave her hand a squeeze and tried to ease his way between the door and its frame. The door moaned as his oversized coat caught the doorknob, pushing it inward. He pulled Jenny through and faced her. “Through the window there.” He tried to bring her with him, but she freed her hand from his.

“We need to hide.” Her eyes scanned the bedroom. The gap below the bed was too small. Too predictable. “What’s in here?” She opened the door. A closet—a nest of laundry filled the bottom—the smell of mold and body odor. Above the pile, a steady trickle of water from the ceiling pecked at a windbreaker jacket. Can’t afford any noise. Not a sound. She pitched the jacket to the side.

“That closet’s a bad idea.” Matt raced over to the window and jerked it open. A gust of wind swept through the opening, carrying a drift of snow that spread across the floor. The sudden breeze caused Jenny to shudder. She looked over to Matt—his intentions made clear with one foot lifted from the floor and rising toward the sill.

“Where are you going?” she hissed.

He set his foot down. “It shouldn’t be too bad a climb down from here,” he said, craning his neck through the open window. “We’ll just drop down on the garage’s roof and to the ground from there.”

“No.” She scowled at him. “You trying to get us killed sliding off the roof? It’s not worth it. Just help me with this.” Through her thin gloves, she could feel moist spots among the clothing she dragged out into the bedroom. “We’ll bury ourselves in here.”

He shook his head before taking another look outside.

“It’ll be fine. Trust me.”

“I do… It’s just…” His eyes met with hers. “We need to keep going,” Matt urged. “That’s all there is to it.”

A loud bang from downstairs.

“Quick.” She waved him toward her. “That door won’t hold.”

Another bang followed by a crash and dishes breaking.

“You’ve had long enough!” a man’s voice echoed through the house.

“Shit!” Matt snatched the blanket from the bed and placed it inside the window frame, then shoved Jenny into the closet. “Stay down!”

She looked on as he scooped the laundry from the floor and began covering her with it. The odor became overwhelming. “You’re coming in here too.” She squeezed the words through the last gap in the clothing before everything went dark. Her breaths shortened until eventually she held it. Her adrenaline surged. She could feel the pile shifting—Matt working his way into the opposite side of the closet.

“Last chance guys!” his voice rang out again from downstairs. He must have been right below them. The words shot right through the floor.

Jenny snuck a few breaths and wriggled her hand through the laundry, sorting, reaching for Matt. There. Their fingers laced together. “Ready?” Her question muffled by the layers of clothing and an unwillingness to fully open her mouth, fearing the stench might knock her unconscious. “Matt?” she tried again.

He mumbled something back, but she couldn’t be certain what it was.

“Seek!” the man yelled.

A few loud barks followed the command.

Jenny forced a deep, sickening breath in. Don’t throw up. Her nerves caused a violent shake, anticipating the likelihood of being found. This smell has to keep us hidden, right? There’s no way that dog finds us in here. Hopefully, the open window and blanket will trick them. Her hand tightened within Matt’s. He squeezed back, the two reassuring one another they weren’t alone.

From downstairs, Jenny could hear the loud clack of the dog’s claws against the hardwood—its whining while it paced along the walls, making quick searches through the rooms below them. Even the persistent sniffing, she swore, could be heard through the wood floor. We’re going to be found. I just know it. I can’t do this. Her breaths sped up, became shallow as her nerves continued to get the best of her. The pile of clothing pumped in and out as she stirred. Matt squeezed her hand again, but it wasn’t enough to calm her. I want to be right… just once.

“Downstairs is cleared!” the man called. “Won’t be too long now!”

The panting of the dog came too quickly—it raced straight for the bedroom. Its claws clacked through the room. By the bed. The window. Back toward the hall. Then it whined and stopped. Silence. Did he leave? Maybe we’re— Scratching at the closet’s door frame prevented her from finishing the hopeful thought. Damn it! It began to circle just outside the door, begging to be let in. Three loud barks jolted her, her hands sweating, her chest cinching down around her lungs—too much pressure. She broke through the filth for some air. Another bark.

The man’s boots traipsed along the floorboards from down the hall—each creak a reminder to Jenny that they had lost. It was over. Only a matter of time.

“Good boy.” The man’s feet shifted, squaring up to their door. A knock. “Hello…” He laughed. “I wonder if they’re in there.” The metal clasp pinged as the man secured the dog back to its lead and guided it to the other side of the room. “Matt. Jenny. Come on out of there.”

They both sprung out from the clothing and opened the door. “That dog makes it too easy for you,” Jenny gasped, taking in some fresh air from the open window.

“Why the hell’d you shut in like that?” the man asked. “You two know better than that.”

“I tried to tell her, Danny”—Matt raised his eyebrows and stared at Jenny—“but she doesn’t listen.”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “First off, this is training and falling off the roof seemed like a stupid idea, Matt.” She glared back at him. “If you were so concerned about us hiding in the house, we should’ve just come in through the back door and straight out the front. Hiding in the closet seemed like the only thing we could do. And, with it smelling like it did, I figured there was no way in hell that Sherman would find us in there.”

“Well, you were wrong.”

“Jenny,” Danny started, “it doesn’t work like that. Come on… think.” He dropped his rucksack to the floor, shaking his head in disappointment. “Remember the chili? People smell chili, all of it together. But a dog smells the beans, the meat, the onions, every bit of it separately. Even with that closet smelling like it did, Sherman can still get your scent. You guys know the only way to beat the dog is to keep going. You can’t stop.” He took a breath. “How many times do I have to tell you before you get it down.”

“Only had to tell me once,” Matt grumbled to himself. “That’s why—”

“I get it, whatever. Won’t happen again.” Frustrated, Jenny snatched the blanket from the window and wrapped herself in it before plopping down next to Sherman. “You’re just too good, boy,” she said, scratching behind his ears, using the retired police canine to keep herself from any further criticism. “Just too good.” She caught Matt staring. “Jealous?”

Breaking his gaze from her, Matt offered a halfhearted smile. “Not quite.”

Liar. “Don’t listen to him, Sherman.” Her fingers scratched over the short, brown fur of her favorite Belgian Malinois. His leg began to kick as all dogs do. “That’s the good spot, huh?”

Danny palmed a few treats. Sherman took them without hesitation, leaving Danny to wipe the slobber to his pants. “Don’t know where I’d be without you, pup,” he said. The proud canine rolled onto his side, and Jenny began scratching along his belly.

“They’re both just jealous you like me better,” she joked. “Always are.”

Danny began rummaging through the room, and Matt took the cue, joining him.

“Jenny, don’t take it personal,” Danny said, his hands flicking through a stack of magazines on the nightstand. “It’s why we train. We can make mistakes now, so they aren’t made later. It’s when we make them more than once or twice that they become habits. Bad ones.”

“But—”

“Just say okay.” Blunt words of irritation from Danny.

Jenny nodded, conceding, but refusing to actually say okay—a partial win in her mind.

“We’ll get this house cleared and one more before we head back home.” He tossed a half-empty bottle of Tylenol toward his rucksack while making his way across the room. “We do it the right way next time. Right?”

“So…” Jenny smirked, bending an eyebrow, knowing Danny had backed himself into a corner. “For us to do that, we just need to run right through the house and keep going?”

Danny ran a hand down his cheek and across his mouth. “Point taken,” he muttered under his breath as he sifted through a few drawers of a dresser. “How about this? Next house, you two can clear”—He coughed—“practice clearing it after Sherman makes his first pass through.”

“Deal!” Matt nearly shouted.

“Slow and methodical, not rushed.”

“I know…” Jenny avoided eye contact with Danny as she stood, shrugging the blanket from her back. It briefly covered Sherman before he managed to wriggle out from underneath. “I’ll get the bathroom and office down the hall.”

“Matt, go and help her.”

“No!” she shouted. The others stood gaping at her. Jenny even shocked herself with the outburst. “I mean—I’m pretty sure I can handle searching through a couple of rooms by myself. Quit trying to hold my hand with everything.”

Although both of them were guilty of it at times, her statement was directed more toward Matt than Danny. Without a doubt, the death of Xavier was Matt’s excuse for being overprotective of her. She had heard him explain it so many times before. But, Danny… She could only assume he felt a woman needed it, desired it. Not this one. I learn and do.

“Okay…” The two of them let their responses trail off as she left.

They don’t get it.

“Matt,” Danny said, “hold up a sec.” His request piqued Jenny’s interest, and she remained just outside the room, taking full advantage of leaving the door cracked. “I need you to finish up here in the bedroom, I’m heading downstairs. You hear something, you let me know before you do anything.” Danny handed over his leg holster, pistol included. “You’ve been training, right?”

What the hell, Danny? I train with you every day.

“Only by dry firing and doing Airsoft.” Matt wrapped the holster around his thigh and ran his belt through its top strap. “Griffin said I’m not worth wasting bullets on.”

“Griffin’s just messing with you, but I’ll tell you what. If we find some ammo on this run, I’ll make sure you get the chance to put some live rounds downrange.”

“Bullshit…” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. The slip-up brought their curious looks toward her before she tiptoed away.

Jenny entered the bathroom and pulled the shower curtain clear. Nothing but a few bottles of shampoo lined up and an old bar of soap hugging the tub’s drain. She knelt, drew her mouth close to the faucet, and turned the knob. A few drops hit her tongue. Discouraged, she pulled away and tried the sink. No luck there either.

“You okay?” Danny’s voice startled her.

“Yes…” She made eye contact with him briefly before turning toward the linen closet. Her fingers rifled through its contents. Another bottle of Tylenol, some deodorant, and a large box of Band-Aids were tossed into the sink.

“Not sure I believe you.” He leaned forward, feet planted, both hands gripping the door frame. A few cracks from his spine, then he straightened. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but—”

Here we go…

“—I’m only asking because I worry about you. You’ve been a little sluggish lately. It isn’t like you. Normally, you’re high energy, joking around with us, but the last couple of trips…” He studied her, searching for some kind of reaction, but she had no intention of giving him one. “Just worried about you. That’s all.”

You can go now. She grabbed a few wash rags and added them to her pile of keepers in the sink. If you want to help, you can give me some space. Give me a chance to prove myself. That’s what I need from you. The floorboards began to creak down the hallway. Danny had finally gotten the hint.

Now’s my chance. Jenny guided the door closed, locked it, and rushed back to the linen closet. “Come on, come on,” she whispered while rustling through the small boxes and bottles—a few toppling over onto the floor. “I know I saw women’s clothing in the bedroom. Why can’t I—”

A tapping at the door followed by Matt’s voice. “Gonna be long in there?”

You too? She chose to ignore him. I’ve got to find this damn thing. Her feet clung to the edge of the lowest shelf, her eyes barely able to peruse the highest portion of the closet. “Damn it. Still can’t find any. This is getting ridiculous,” she muttered. It took her only a minute longer to tear through the medicine cabinet and vanity, but she only came across more of the same. Damn it! She drove the heels of her hands into both eye sockets, wanting nothing more than to scream.

Another tap at the door.

Annoyed, she flung it open. “What?!”

“I just—I”

“What?” She crossed her arms while standing precisely in the middle of the narrow bathroom. Matt propped his hand on the door jamb and tried to look past her, but she mirrored his attempt with her head. “Can I help you with something?”

“I just needed to use the bathroom…” Matt gave an uneasy smile. “Did you leave any water in the bowl?”

“That wasn’t what I was doing.”

“Well, then do you mind—”

Jenny yanked his hand from the jamb and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him with her foot. She locked her lips onto his. Her shoulders relaxed. Some of the pent-up stress dissolved within their kiss. She opened her eyes and exhaled. Matt’s lips wanted more, still puckered. He opened his eyes. “Wha—” Matt looked from left to right, blushing, seemingly embarrassed from spectator’s eyes that didn’t exist. “What was that for?”

“I need you to listen to me.”

He nodded.

She took his hands. “I appreciate you wanting to take care of me, believe me, I do, but I’m not helpless, so quit treating me like it. Don’t let your lack of confidence hold me back too.”

“Why would you say that?” His voice full of hurt. “I—I’m good at this too. I know what I’m doing.”

“I know you do. But sometimes I don’t think you know you do. Ever since Xavier was”—she swallowed—“was murdered, you’ve changed. All of us have, but you’ve got to let it go or at least turn it into something positive. What happened wasn’t your fault. Quit acting like it was.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and took a playful tone, “Or you’re never getting any sex again.”

Matt’s eyes went wide. “Yeah. Okay, yeah, I can do that.” He pulled her in closer, and she felt his hand snaking around toward her backside.

“Stop.” She smacked him on the back. “Maybe when we get home.”

Matt leaned in for another kiss.

“I said maybe. Don’t push it.”

He chuckled and brought his hands in front of him, palms out. “I wasn’t doing anything. I swear.”

“Mm-hmm.” Raising her eyebrows, she smirked and gave a coy smile before squeezing by him into the hall. “See how this works? I’m giving you your space.”

“You, uh, you mind,” he stammered while scratching the back of his head. “You think you could take over searching the bedroom, so I can do what I need to do? Only that closet’s left back there.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

Jenny kept Sherman’s lead tight in her hand while they hid within a row of hedges alongside the old Tudor house they had just cleared. “He’ll be back, boy,” she whispered, patting his side. Only five minutes had passed since Danny took to the street for a quick assessment. But minutes in the bitter cold felt like hours, and despite two layers of wool socks, her toes felt every second. Come on, Danny. Vigorously, she rubbed her pants, warming her thighs, her calves. “He coming yet?” Jenny asked, anxious to get moving again.

Posted at the corner of the house, but still concealed by the bushes, Matt clutched the pistol. “Not yet.” He leaned forward and bent his neck to the left. “He’s still working back the other way.”

“Where we came from?”

“Yeah.”

Ten minutes passed.

Finally, Danny broke the corner. “We’re good to our rear. Doesn’t look like anyone’s tracking us. Only one more house and we call it a night. It’s starting to get dark anyway.” He propped his rifle against the brick before taking out a map and kneeling in the snow. Jenny and Matt circled around to observe him mark the Tudor house as ‘searched’ with a quick scratch of his pencil. “The next one’s just a block over.” He flicked that one with the pencil too. “The transport crew is gonna be busy by the time we’re done with this round.”

“How many have we done this month?” Jenny asked.

“Next house will be forty-one,” Danny answered after counting the tick marks across the map. “Pretty good run, I’d say.”

“Doesn’t feel like that many,” she said, thinking back on what Danny had mentioned earlier about her being a little sluggish lately. I’ll show you sluggish. “You sure we can only do one more tonight?”

Danny folded the map neatly into his ruck, then stood, squinting into the distance. “This house took longer than I thought it would.” He lowered his kerchief for a second to spit. “There might only be an hour or two of decent sunlight left before it gets too cold. It’s not worth the risk. At this rate, I’m not sure we’ll even make it home tonight.”

“Camping out in the next house?” Jenny asked.

Danny nodded, still watching the sun slink off in the distance.

“All these houses have fireplaces, right?” Matt asked.

The question broke Danny from his gaze. “You two…” He closed his eyes and shook his head, sighing.

“I already know what you’re thinking,” Jenny gloated. “Any amount of smoke like that will give our position away.”

“Yep, just like this.” Danny pushed the air from his lungs, letting out a long stream of condensation. “You’d notice that from miles away. I swear you guys must’ve come from some sort of paradise or something.”

Paradise… The comment gave Jenny pause as his lecture continued in the background.

Jenny figured at some point River’s Edge could have been viewed as a paradise when comparing it to what others experienced shortly after the Almawt virus struck. Life had certainly been much easier within those walls. Working maintenance in the town had been safe—made even more so once the Second Alliance moved in. Their intentions were well hidden, but it wasn’t long before their facade crumbled. Sam’s death. Xavier’s death. Haverty’s letter. All those things revealed the truth.

Now, the idea of River’s Edge being a paradise seemed laughable. Watching all their hard work snatched from them had hurt. Still hurt. Often, she had dreamed of going back. Not because she longed for that life, but because it deserved to be liberated. All her friends. The people she considered her family. Free again. But how? With what army?

Danny’s words began to register again. “…The two of you need to start framing your thoughts around survival. Always think of what the enemy can use against you. Always.

“Now, are you two ready?”

They nodded.

“Okay. Matt, you watch our six. Jenny, I need you to keep control of Sherman while I lead.” He slung the rifle’s strap back over his head. “Let’s hope this doesn’t become the opportunity to fire a few live rounds,” he kidded with Matt.

Leveling his rifle toward the street, Danny posted at the corner and waited for Matt and Jenny to fall in line. “Stay in my footprints if you can.”

As Jenny neared the corner, she could hear the howling wind whip through the trees, their branches scraping against brick, scratching across parked cars. She took in a deep, crisp breath and followed Danny out into the open. Although she’d been witnessing it through the entire endeavor, the pristine snow seemed to grab hold of her. It had been years since the last “good” snow. She couldn’t ever remember seeing such a pure, white landscape before.

Sherman’s consistent tugging against his lead brought Jenny from her daydreaming. “Settle, boy,” she told him, but the eager police canine still possessed his drive. She knew any expectation of him shedding his instinct and the training that had been ground into him through countless tracks and building searches was foolish. Sherman was invaluable. Even more so now than before the virus.

“Matt, you good?” Jenny asked, bouncing her attention between him and the footsteps Danny left in the snow.

“Yes.” His voice gave the impression he was concentrating. It must have been difficult to maintain watch over their surroundings while walking backwards, lining his boots up with his companions’ tracks that led the way.

The little things… Danny’s always thinking survival. He’s always saying not to leave any advantage for the enemy. I never would have thought of walking in each other’s footprints. Keep them guessing on how many people are in your group. He’s got this down. Maybe he is right. Maybe River’s Edge spoiled us, but it doesn’t matter now. We’re getting where we need to be. We have to.

Jenny worked to keep Sherman close, but found it difficult as his paws seemed to glide across the snow. Only when the slack came out of the lead did he become bogged down in the deep layers of snow. “You want him, Danny?”

“I gave him to you. You’ve been training with him, act like it!”

He’s right…

They neared the intersection, and Danny directed the two of them to take cover on the porch of the last house on the block. Cautiously, Jenny peeked through the windows, checking to make sure they hadn’t chosen an unfortunate vantage point. Everything sat untouched inside. It didn’t appear as a squatter’s refuge. Moving into a corner, Jenny hunkered down with Sherman while Matt drew his pistol across the railing. “Why’d you tell Danny you’ve never fired a gun before?” Jenny asked.

“Of course, you were listening… You know I have, but what I meant was that—just not here with them. Griffin’s always talking about saving this and saving that. He’s convinced some—” He broke from the conversation and took to the other side of the porch.

“What is it?” Jenny begged.

“Danny’s spotted something. Can’t tell what yet. Must be further down the street.”

“Well, what’s he doing?”

“Behind a car, watching…” he trailed off, his eyes squinting, leaning further over the edge of the railing. “He’s just kind of watching right now.” Matt brought the pistol, muzzle up, by his face and pressed his shoulder against one of the porch’s columns.

“Who the hell taught you that move?” Jenny scoffed. “Who are you James Bond?”

He shushed her, his attention remaining on Danny.

“Fine, do what you want.” I will too. She shimmied over to the porch railing. Other than Danny’s footprints leading toward the small sedan he hid behind, nothing else seemed out of place, worthy of any attention.

Danny slid along the vehicle, then stopped, bracing himself against the door frame while he stole glances over the top of the cab.

Jenny pointed out his tactics. “See how he keeps his muzzle pointed downward? Takes cover at the door frame?”

Matt didn’t respond, but from the corner of her eye, that pistol he held gradually crept into a low ready position. “Danny’s on something.”

Danny’s rifle now lay across the vehicle’s hood. He made minor adjustments to his scope. What’s he seeing? She leaned forward. From behind, Sherman nearly knocked her over as he sprung up and landed with his front paws on the railing next to her. “Get back, boy.” She forced him back from the railing. Whining, he began to pace, tangling Jenny within his lead. “What the—” What’s the damn word. “Platz! Platz!” Sherman tried to sit but couldn’t with his legs wrapped.

At her outburst, Matt turned his attention away from the street. “Jenny! What the hell are you doing?”

Jenny and Sherman were bound together with the lead. “Just—damn it, Matt. Just help me out here.”

He couldn’t hide the smile from his face as he holstered his weapon and stepped toward her. Chuckling, Matt slid the pack off her shoulders, then began unraveling the lead back through itself. “And you want to get on me, huh?”

She scowled at him, but within seconds, Jenny had freed a leg and the lead dropped to the ground. “Thanks.” But the look she gave him showed no sign of gratitude.

Matt’s eyes shot back over the railing. “What? What is it?”

“Shut up you two!” Danny forced a hushed order over the crunching of the snow below his feet. “Pull that storm door and hold it!”

Matt yanked it open and stood to the side while Danny bounded up the stairs. Without stopping, he charged, centered on the door, kicking it straight through its frame.

“What’s going on? What did you see?” Jenny asked as they scrambled into the house.

Danny ignored her while he unclipped Sherman from the lead. “Seek!” The canine started through the ranch-style home. Danny followed with his rifle. “Matt, post up at the window, don’t shoot unless you have to. Jenny, get that door back in place, hold it.”

“Seriously, what the hell, Danny?” Jenny shoved the door back into place, but it wouldn’t catch. “What’s going on?” she asked again, but Danny was gone, trailing Sherman through the back of the house.

Jenny sat against the door, silent, waiting for Danny and Sherman to give the all clear.

Eventually, after several minutes, they returned. “House is good.”

“So!” Jenny looked to Danny with anticipation. “What the hell is it?”

“Pickup truck coming,” Danny said, his chest still heaving. “Lots of guys. Every last one armed to the teeth.”

“Who?” Jenny asked, eyes wide with fear. “Black uniforms? Any kind of banner?”

“I don’t know.”

“They haven’t made it this far yet.” Matt said, stealing an occasional peek from his position at the window.

Jenny stormed off toward Matt, almost knocking a floor lamp to the ground in her haste. Is it them? A vision of Second Alliance Soldiers haunted her. It can’t be them, right? There’s no way they’re up this way.

“You think it’s the S.A.?” Matt whispered.

“I hope not…”

Mindful of being discovered, she peeled a sliver of the curtain away from the window, allowing her just enough space to catch a glimpse of the pickup truck chugging through the street—four men in the bed, a rifle poking out the passenger side window. Crack! Crack! Immediately, Matt threw Jenny to the ground, falling with her, shielding her from the unexpected gunfire. His chest pressed against hers, his breaths in her ear. Close. Safe. Crack! Crack! A breath trembled from Jenny’s lips. Matt squeezed her tight, comforting her through the chaos. Crack! Crack! Crack!

“Stay down!” From across the room, Danny low crawled toward them, dragging his rifle by its sling. He kept his eyes fixed on theirs.

Another volley of gunfire broke out. To Jenny’s horror, Sherman started toward them from the kitchen, out of view of Danny. “Platz!” she shouted. He lay, his ears twitching from the gunfire, confused, but stationary.

“You two okay?!” Danny shouted.

“Yeah!”

“Is Sherman?!”

“Yeah!”

A few more shots rang out, closer than before. “Hang in there!” Danny shrank into the floor as low as he could while the barrage continued. In a brief reprieve, he skittered within inches of the windowsill, settling into the wall next to Matt and Jenny’s feet. “Hier!” Sherman broke for Danny.

“What the hell they shooting at?!” Jenny called out.

Danny braved a look, but another shot convinced him to put his face to the floor. All four of them forced to wait. Catching a stray was the last thing they needed.

Two more shots echoed down the street, then a long howl of laughter faded into the distance. Silence followed. Then more. Jenny remained still, unsure of how much faith to place in the lull. Danny said nothing. Matt, the same. At some point, someone would have to confirm they were indeed clear of any threat. But with Matt still on top of her, Jenny being the one seemed unlikely.

Finally, Danny crept to his feet then helped Matt and Jenny to theirs. “Looks like they’re gone,” he said, pulling the curtain clear for Jenny too, both of them now studying the street for any signs of life. Or death.

“Any idea who they were?” Jenny asked, relieved she hadn’t seen the black uniforms, the flag, any sign of the Second Alliance.

“Never seen them or… shit, anyone like them since the early days. You’d think the novelty would’ve worn off by now. Reckless morons. Pretty sure they’re not from around here. Loud idiots like that don’t go unnoticed. We definitely would’ve run into them before. Everyone else out this way has moved on or joined up with us at the Depot.” He leaned into the bay window, double-checking the far end of the neighborhood. “Pretty sure we’re good now.”

Jenny looked too. The erratic strangers were long gone, not even the truck’s tail lights were visible. “Still can’t tell what they were shooting at,” she said. A window across the street appeared to be the only casualty from the strangers’ assault on the neighborhood. “By the look of things, probably nothing.”

Danny let out a weak chuckle. “Never could fix stupid.”

“Whether they were shooting for the hell of it or not, we’re lucky,” Matt said, coming shoulder to shoulder with Jenny at the window after Danny had walked off. “A couple extra minutes in that house down the street and we would’ve been caught out in the open with those maniacs. There’s no telling how that would’ve gone.”

“Not good,” Danny said, seemingly bewildered by the naive statement. “We’re not invincible. That’s why we train. That’s why we take everything seriously. You never know what’s around the next corner. With those guys, they wouldn’t have asked any questions. Nothing! They would’ve gunned us down in the street as soon as they saw us. Not a doubt in my mind.”

“You’re right…” Matt agreed before wrapping his hand around Jenny’s and whispering to her, “Nothing’s going to happen to you. We’ll make sure of it.”

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against his shoulder, her veins still flooded with adrenaline, her breathing still rushed. Thanks. Although she wouldn’t allow it to seep through, an apology bubbled toward the surface. Only hours ago, she had chided him for being overprotective. Unselfishly, he took to her, guarded her without thinking of himself. How close had they come to death? Merely feeling him beside her meant everything in that moment. “I knew you had it in you,” Jenny murmured. “See? You’re good at this.”

He smiled.

“Alright you two,” Danny said, his back hunched, gripping the far end of the living room couch, waiting. “Enough of that. Get over here, lover boy, and help me with this thing.”

Matt gave her hand a parting squeeze before taking the opposite end of the couch.

Jenny remained at the window. Even though the vision of the Second Alliance had passed, a feeling of dread now lingered. If it had been them, what… what would that mean? Deep down, I know they’re still looking for us. But would they come all the way up here to do it?

From behind her came a—“1… 2… 3”—followed by a collective grunt. Jenny peeled her eyes from the window to watch them carry the couch to the front door, doing what they could to secure their camp for the night. Apparently satisfied, Danny dusted the remaining snow from his pants and stomped out his boots.

“Man, Danny, you kicked that door in like it was nothing!” Matt said, running his hand along the fractured jamb—the deadbolt busted, protruding from the wood. “Aren’t those supposed to be pretty tough?”

“Just have to hit the sweet spot.”

“When we get a chance, you’ll have to teach me. I’d like to—”

“Danny…” Jenny backed from the window, intruding on their conversation. “I…” She started again, but had difficulty forming her thoughts. Grant had made them swear not to reveal too much of their past. Friends came and went. Trust was hard to come by. The knowledge that they might possibly be wanted by an organization as large as the Second Alliance seemed too dangerous to share with anyone. It could be used against them if the situation dictated it.

Be careful with what you say. “Awhile ago we saw this group of people. Me and Matt and Grant did. They wore all black, organized, like an army or something, but—” She stopped. Just ask him if he knows. Keep it simple. “Have you seen them? A group in black up this way?”

“We’re the biggest group in this area, sorry to disappoint you if you’re looking to trade up.”

“You know that’s not why I’m asking.”

“I don’t.” He lowered an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know? What’d they do to you?”

Jenny simply stared at him.

“Or… is it that you guys did something to them?”

Danny looked to Matt, but he offered up even less than she did on the topic.

“Okay.” He wiped from the corners of his mouth. “I get it. Obviously, there are things that we don’t share. Things we keep bottled up. But I can’t help you if you don’t open up. No one can.”

“We don’t need your help with them. We just need to know they aren’t up here.”

“They aren’t. You don’t need to worry about it.” Danny traipsed over to a recliner and plonked down—Sherman close behind, taking to the floor beside him. Both Jenny’s and Matt’s eyes were still locked on Danny. Still searching for certainty in his answer. “I’m serious. I’m not the one trying to hide anything about your soldiers in black.”

“Why’d you say it like that?” Jenny took offense. “You don’t tell us everything. You barely talk about your police work. I know practically nothing about your family. Never even seen a picture of them.”

“We don’t need to tell everything, right Jenny?” Grinning, he closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. “Not sure you’ll ever know,” he teased.

“You’ll tell me someday.”

“Not today.”

“What would it take?”

“Take the hint,” Matt whispered. “Let him sleep for a bit. We’ll keep watch.” He tapped the grip of the pistol resting in its holster and strutted over to the bay window.

“No offense, but it’ll take a bit more than your mighty pistol there.” She eyed Danny’s rifle leaning against the recliner’s arm. “Danny, let me take your rifle.”

“No.”

“Seriously? What good is it sitting there?”

“It’ll wake up when I do.” He couldn’t help but let a tiny snicker loose. “That’s what taking watch is. It’s simple. You watch. Something happens. You wake the others. If not, you just sit there until your turn’s up.”

“Why the hell do we train if you aren’t gonna give us the chance to use it?”

Jenny saw his mouth curl into a smile, but he said nothing. Danny knew it drove her crazy to stop mid-conversation. She knew he liked to do that—to tease. You’re just like my dad. But it wasn’t just his teasing or his little quirks that revived the memories of her father. It was everything. The brown hair. The hazel eyes. Even their build was similar, though Danny was slightly taller. But what brought it all together was the laugh. That’s why she gravitated toward him almost immediately. When she could break through Danny’s toughness and get him to laugh, she could be with her dad again. Even if for only a few bits of laughter.

“Quit looking at me.” Danny shook the blanket loose from the back of the recliner, shifted to his side, and pulled the blanket across himself. “Doesn’t take both of you to keep watch,” he yawned. “Sounds like Matt volunteered to go first. I’ll take second watch. Jenny, if we need you, then you can have third. We leave in the morning.”

“I’ll take second watch.” She looked to Danny, her face serious, unwavering, but Danny had buried himself in the recliner unable to see her determination. “I’ll take second watch!”

“We’ll see.”

“Dan—”

“Go rest!” He tossed onto his other side. “Or do something else. I don’t care.”

“Hey Matt, why don’t you let me—”

“Don’t even try it, Jenny,” Danny groaned from underneath the blanket.

It’s never personal with him. “You need anything before I head off to the back?” Jenny gave Matt a peck on the cheek.

“No, I’m good.” His gaze returned to the street, but she remained at his ear.

“Let him sleep. Wake me up for second watch,” she whispered. Matt snapped his attention back toward her. “Please…”

“You know I can’t do that.” His voice was torn. “The last thing I want to do is piss him off. You know neither of us want that.”

She dropped her eyes, disappointed. “I know… At some point he needs to let go of some things.”

“It’s gotten better.”

“True…” But not fast enough. “Just think on it.”

Cautiously, Jenny padded down the hallway to the back of the house. I know Danny cleared it, but vigilance equals survival. Keep it on your mind. Nothing wrong with staying in that mindset.

Only four doors lined the hall, and she opened each one, holding her arms up and out as if she were holding a rifle. She pied off each room—systematic, efficient in the manner Danny had taught her. Although she felt slightly foolish, if Danny wouldn’t provide the opportunity for training, she’d have to create her own. She cleared an office, a small bedroom, and a bathroom. One left, the master bedroom, last door on the right.

It appeared unspoiled like the rest of the house. The bed was tucked in. A laundry basket toward its edge—stacks of folded clothing. Over the closet door, a woman’s lace nightgown hung. She couldn’t resist running her fingers down its front. Satin. Someone had something planned. Then she remembered. Shit! In the excitement of earlier, she had forgotten the one thing she personally required from this endeavor.

Jenny took to the bathroom as she had in the house before. Peering around the corner, a draft of air chilled her face. Clack. Clack. Clack. Above the toilet, a set of blinds drawn closed smacked against an open window. She jerked it shut and adjusted the blinds to allow more light into the room before turning toward the mirrored vanity. A scented candle tin sat on top. She opened it, and inside was a book of matches she used to light the wick.

She searched through the vanity, the medicine cabinet, the linen closet, taking the improvised torch with her. Things she may have set aside to keep were tossed about, ignored. Only one thing on her mind, but again, no such luck.

Finished with the search, she practically slammed the candle against the vanity’s marble top in frustration. Gripping the counter’s edge, she fumed at her reflection in the mirror. How the hell is it none of these women have any? I thought everyone kept these close by. She took a deep breath. Take a step back, Jenny. You don’t have to know right now. There’s still time.

Jenny slipped the knit cap from her head and undid her hair bun. She leaned forward, examining the bags under her eyes. I look old. How the hell did this happen? Dirt under her fingernails. Face splotched with grime. When’s the last time you took a bath? Baby wipes don’t count. A tear ran down her cheek. Neither do tears. She took her knit cap across her face. How are you going to take care of anyone else? Why’d you do this to me? Asshole! She broke down. Gasping between breaths and tears, she began ripping through the lower cabinets again. I just know it’s got to be here! How the hell is it so hard to find?! Come on!

A loud crash came from the front of the house. She froze, but eventually tiptoed back through the master bedroom, wiping the tears from her face, trying to get her breathing under control in case one of her companions was coming to check on her. Carefully, she drew the door inward only an inch or two. Through the gap, a tirade of cursing came from the living room—Danny laying into Matt. She bent her head through door, looking down the hallway toward the commotion. Her breaths continued to flutter—her nerves still worked up. I’ll let that go. She closed the door and flipped the lock. Get it together, damn it!

Pressing her back to the wall, she absorbed the room, every detail, picturing those that lived here before—the dad at the bed folding laundry—the wife toweling herself dry after a hot shower, about to drape herself in the seductive nightgown—then, one of the kids pounding on the door, trying to escape the other from down the hall. Family… A concept that had forever changed. Evolved into something different, but just as important as before. To her, those details mattered. They calmed her, refreshed her memories, taking her back to life before Almawt. She knew it wasn’t real, but the idea, the hope that someday what she imagined could once again become commonplace, drove her to continue. Someday everything will be better. The tears stopped. Her breathing steadied. You’re right. It will. You got this.

Jenny dropped the blinds and pulled the curtains to the bedroom windows. It darkened the room considerably, making sleep that much more enticing. But before dragging herself into bed, she made sure to grab the candle from the bathroom. Its small flame flickered against her face as she lay there, tossing. The outburst from Danny and Matt had dulled to a low grumble but remained loud enough to keep her from sleep. Come on! I thought Danny was tired. This is ridiculous.

Unable to sleep, she stacked the pillows against the headboard and shifted into a seated position. “This sucks,” she groaned. Looking for anything to occupy her time, she pulled open the drawer to the nightstand. A few books neatly arranged inside. She sorted through them a bit, finding one that piqued her interest—a diary. Should I? Well, you are already laying in their bed. And, they do say people who write diaries secretly want them read anyways. She broke the locked clasp to the book and flipped toward the back.

She skipped a few entries.

Jenny flipped a few pages further into the diary.

Jenny set the book down on her lap and looked at the framed photos on the nightstand. Oh, the secrets we keep from each other. This is getting good.

Bingo! Jenny slid from the bed and tiptoed across the room, mindful of any noise. Holding her ear steadily against the door, she listened, suppressing her anxious breaths. Nothing. No signs of life from the hallway or living area. Danny must have finally fallen asleep. Okay. Easing the door open, she stole a glimpse. Only darkness, barely any light coming from the front room. She crept to the kids’ bedroom. A low creak from the door. She flinched, then swiftly opened it, stepping inside and easing the door closed behind her. “Up high, hidden,” she reminded herself.

There were a few shelves beyond the reach of small children—only toys and books sat upon them. She shrugged off the bunk bed. Not even worth a glance. Earlier, while clearing the room, she had left the closet partially open, but without finding anyone inside, the rest of its contents went unnoticed. This time, however, her attention was on the smaller details.

Atop the shelf, in a plastic grocery bag, she finally found what she had been looking for all this time. Without hesitating, she stuffed the box into her pants pocket and exited the room. Whoa! She startled—a cold, wet nose jammed itself into her hand. A sigh of relief. “Sherman,” she whispered. “Come on pup, get back in there.” She angled him toward the living room and patted him on the butt. “Go, boy!” He traipsed away, and she broke for the master bedroom.

With mixed emotions, she rushed into the bathroom and stripped the box from its contents. A deep breath. This is it… She cringed onto the toilet seat, freezing cold against her skin, and administered the test. Please, please nothing. Please nothing! The trickle stopped. She eyed the stick as her legs carried her off into the master bedroom where she paced uncontrollably. How long does this damn thing take?

She set the stick down on the nightstand and walked off, forcing herself to ignore it. How am I going to do this? Her breathing began to elevate, and she could feel the tears swelling in her eyes. Do I tell Matt if I am? But I can’t… I can’t tell him. This can’t be real. “What the hell do I do?” Forcing herself back to the nightstand, she angled the test’s small window into the candlelight. A plus sign. Shit!

“What the hell do I do?!” To hide the results from anyone else, she forced the bathroom window open and flung the test into the backyard. “How the hell am I going to do this? I—I can’t do this.” Incomplete thoughts rambled on between her crying and gasps for air. “What if—What if I…” Her face crashed into her hands, unable to bear the weight of the tears any longer. “What if the baby gets Almawt?” She collapsed to her knees. “I can’t do this alone…”

Minutes later, still a mess, eyes puffy, sniffling, she foolishly found herself in the front room.

“You alright?” Matt asked.

Jenny didn’t say anything.

“Jenny?”

She nudged him over to make room for her in the bay window. He wrapped his arms around her.

“You okay?”

“Shush. Hold me.” Trembling, she stared out the window with him. “I just need you to hold me.”

“Head count’s comin’ soon. S.A. Guards gonna know we’re missin’, and they’re not gonna let us go that easy.”

“Come on, Matt, think!”

“I am!”

“Look, there’s a reason Xavier left you the note. All these clues have to do with you, not us. Me and Grant don’t have the answer. Again, listen closely, ‘The old way home. Opposite wall of the ladder. Dig.’”

“I know what it says! I’ve been staring at it for a week. The old way home, I did get that one. But now I don’t know. Opposite wall the ladder…”

“Of the ladder. Opposite wall of the ladder.”

“Same thing.”

“Quit the fightin’ you two. It’s fixin’ to get dark out here. The woods ain’t gonna be too generous with light comin’ here soon.”

“I just don’t know what he means by ladder. There’s no ladder here.”

“If this is the trail you took home, then it has to be here. There’s no other reason to mention it.”

“It could just be a hint like take the path up to our house. Maybe it’s buried in one of our yards or something.”

“I doubt it. I mean, why wouldn’t he just use the street name then or the numbers from your address? It’s the path. It has to be.”

“Do you see a ladder?”

“That’s not the point. Think outside the box. Did you guys have a treehouse or something? Anything you guys might have climbed to get up or down? Something like that?”

“I don’t think—”

“If you’re thinkin’ of a real ladder forget it. It don’t have to be like that.”

“You already said you guys didn’t have a ladder. You need to get that out of your head.”

“Hmmm… Alright. Maybe… maybe this way. It’s worth a shot.”

“What you thinkin’, boy?”

“By the creek up here, we used to climb down on these roots. I guess it was kind of like a ladder.”

“Nothin’ to lose. Let’s go.”

“It’s up here. Right around this bend.”

“Watch your feet. Last thing we needin’ is someone gettin’ hurt. Keep it steady, and we’ll get there just fine.”

“This is what I was thinking, but I don’t know… What do you think?”

“Other side there. Look. That’s gotta be it.”

“So, what now?”

“We dig.”

“Jenny…”

She blinked several times through the soft glow of a lantern—her mind a haze—her eyes catching nothing but black and gray around her. Where am I?

“Jenny, you okay?” A gentle hand came from the void and took hold of hers. She accepted it, not moving a muscle, not retreating from its warm touch. “You’ll be up in no time, girlie.” The man gave her hand a squeeze. “Toughest little thing around here. I guess I can get away with sayin’ it while you’re sleepin’.” He let out a familiar chuckle. Jenny lolled her head toward the lantern. Her eyes adjusted to the light, revealing the dark figure the hand belonged to. “Thought maybe I’d get away with the compliment, but of course that’s what wakes you up.”

“Grant…” She groaned as his familiar face came into focus at her bedside. Is this my tent? Not completely certain of her circumstances, she asked him, “Where… Where am I?”

He offered a weak smile. His hand still held hers, both resting on her stomach. “You’re safe. All you’re needin’ to do is lay there.”

“But…” Still weak, Jenny found forming her thoughts into words tedious. Instead, she heeded Grant’s advice and relaxed, allowing her stiff body to sink further into the deck lounger she lay upon. She slipped her hand from underneath Grant’s and ran a finger down the stitching of the cushion. A break in the seam. A rough spot. Yeah, this is definitely mine.

Grant sat hunched forward in a metal folding chair, watching over her. Both of them silent, listening to the rolling of zippers, small scrapes, indistinct bangs from the other tents propped nearby in the middle of the Home Depot—this small community of convenience. A pit stop. Somewhere to hold them over until they could find something better—all she’d ever be able to think of it. Convenience…

Here, in her assigned tent, it never felt like home. It felt empty, impersonal. Jenny relied on strangers’ homes to remember the past. Everything she had from before the virus, any personal item was locked away in River’s Edge. Someday… My pictures. My keepsakes will be mine again. I just hope they’ll still be there.

Longing for reassurance, she crept her hand back to Grant’s.

“Damn, you’re still freezin’ cold, girlie.” Grant shook his hand, exaggerating his surprise. From beneath the small, patio table beside Jenny’s lounger, he collected another blanket and floated it down across her. “This here’ll be better for you. Need layers to help keep you insulated from that air.”

Jenny nodded, prompting Grant to begin working along the cushion, tucking in the extra blanket. “No.” She took her hands from underneath. “Don’t.”

“Just tryin’ to help you get comfortable.”

“I know—” She coughed to clear her throat. “I know you are, but I don’t need you to do that. I’m gonna get up here soon anyways.”

“With what strength? Pretty sure if you try standin’ right here, you’d be tippin’ back over into that little thing you call a bed.”

“You think so?” she sneered before trying to wriggle her way out of her blankets.

Grant snapped his head to the side, diverting his eyes. “Whoa-ho-ho. Cover up.” Her bare thigh had been exposed—the cool air bit into her skin. She drew back onto the lounger, and Grant desperately pushed the blanket to cover her. “Alright, alright. I hear you. You ain’t gotta prove nothin’ to me. I believe you.” He shook his head. “And just so you know, ain’t nobody tryin’ to see all what you got goin’ on under there.”

She scowled at him. It better have been Matt that undressed me. “You weren’t the one that, well, you know…”

“Hell no. Ain’t no pervert. Not my type anyways.” Grant cracked a smile. “Too immature.”

Jenny scowled at him again but managed a snicker once she realized he was only kidding. “You tease too much.”

“Life’s too serious to be serious anymore. Nobody knows what’s gonna happen. I learned that lesson too many times now, and I don’t want to be remembered as a damned fool for bein’ let down all those times. So, hell with it. I’ll be serious when I need to be, but here in this tent, just you and me like this, I’m gonna cut up a bit. Why the hell not, right?”

“Maybe inside here…” She took a cool breath in, reliving the gunshots at the house, feeling Matt’s body press to hers, colliding once they hit the floor.

“What’s the matter, girlie? You look like you’re about to break.” The wrinkles across his forehead scrunched. “Somethin’ happen?”

“They didn’t tell you we got shot at?”

Grant jolted from the folding chair. “What?! Who shot at you?!” The nylon floor of the tent crinkled under his pacing feet. “You see ’em? It wasn’t them was it?” His side to side stopped, his face only inches from hers. “Was it?” Both hands trembled at his sides. “Don’t even tell me it was them.”

“No,” she whispered, trying to calm him, “it wasn’t them.”

“Why the hell didn’t Danny tell me about this?” His voice remained loud.

“Please.” She pressed a finger to her lips.

“You right.” Grant listened for a moment, then began again with a whisper, “You sure it wasn’t them?”

Jenny nodded.

“How you know?”

“It wasn’t. I’ve never seen them before, and Danny said the same.”

“Well, why the hell they shoot at you? Was you in their territory or somethin’?”

She closed her eyes, knowing she had misled him slightly. She hated being wrong. Apologies hurt. “Well”—she kept her eyes from his—“okay… So, they weren’t exactly shooting at us, like directly. Danny saw them down the street, and we booked it into a house. After a little bit, they just started shooting.

“Not sure what they were going after. None of us saw, but Danny doesn’t think they even knew we were there. He thinks they were just kind of shooting for the hell of it. Maybe just passing through. Other than that, we couldn’t come up with any other reason. We were in our usual area, doing what we do, not even close to anywhere we haven’t been before, so I don’t know who they are, what they were doing. But I know this much, when the shots went off, it—it felt like I was gonna piss myself.”

“Jenny! Why you cussin’ like that?”

“Huh?” The abrupt change in his attention caught her off guard. “I—”

“You ain’t supposed to talk hard like that. Don’t care how scared you were. I don’t think I like you goin’ out on those scouts like that anymore.”

“Good thing you don’t make that decision then,” she snapped back.

“You think it’s a good idea? Gettin’ gunned down. Passin’ out. How’s that a good idea?”

“I haven’t been—I haven’t been taking care of myself.” It felt as stupid as it sounded coming out.

“And that’s your excuse? That should be your reason not to go.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

I hate being here. This isn’t my home. Never will be. Not after—

“Well?”

She simply stared at him.

“Okay, Jenny… you’re right, it ain’t my decision to make. And, I can’t tell you what to do, but you need to think better on it before Danny comes talkin’ with you.”

“Why? What’d he say?”

Grant wiped the spit from the corners of his mouth. “He can tell you. I ain’t lookin’ for a fight this evenin’.”

Deep down, Jenny already knew Danny was considering the idea of leaving her off his team.

“Look, a peace offerin’, eat some of this here.” Grant reached behind the lantern on the side table and lifted a bowl. “Maybe you’ll think twice on killin’ the messenger with some food in your belly.”

Jenny said nothing.

“Come on, you gotta eat.” Smiling, he brought it bedside and wafted its aroma toward her. “Come on,” he urged.

I guess it does smell pretty good. “What is it?”

“Dinner.”

“I mean, what’s in it?”

“Just eat,” Grant said. Jenny propped the back of the lounger upright then reached for the bowl, but he kept it from her. “I didn’t mean to get you all worked up.” His voice was gentle. He spooned a few morsels of stew, his tremors shaking the utensil as he brought it to her lips each time. She wiped a few dribbles from her chin before taking several more bites—its warmth filled her, bringing some needed comfort amongst the cold surrounding her.

“Where’s Matt and Danny?”

“They were meetin’ with the transport team to let them know what houses you hit.” Grant brought her the last bite of soup and put the bowl back. “Don’t you worry about that meetin’. Told them I got you for now. Least I can do.”

“I should be there with them in that meeting.”

“Do yourself a favor and rest. It’ll show Danny you’re takin’ this seriously. Might go a long way toward convincin’ him you’ll be ready to go in the mornin’ if that’s what you’re feelin’ you gotta do.” Grant lifted the lantern and set it to the floor before pulling a plastic bin from underneath her lounger. “Why don’t you read for a bit? Get your mind off things.” He popped the lid and passed her one of the books.

“You really think it’ll help things with Danny?”

“Yep.” He nodded. “But beyond that, I’m thinkin’ you need it anyways. You don’t need to be rippin’ and runnin’ like that all the time.” His voice shifted to a more fatherly tone. “I’m not gonna lose one of you kiddos again. Never again, alright?” Jenny heard the guilt in his voice. The death of Xavier had wrecked him. His tremors more furious than ever, especially when he mentioned him. Or, anything related to River’s Edge for that matter. To be honest, there had been several times Jenny had to escape his guilt-ridden monologues. His depression was too much at times, blaming himself for what happened. There was no convincing him otherwise. Even though Xavier had made his choice, Grant felt he should have done more. Owed it to him. Owed it to his father.

Jenny was worried this conversation was spiraling in that direction, so she stuck her nose inside the book he gave her.

A few pages in and Grant’s voice became a low, gravelly hum in the background, barely noticeable. Most of what he said had been heard time and time again. All of them felt sad, sometimes guilty because of Xavier’s death, but it simply wasn’t something that needed to be revisited in Grant’s gloomy recollection. Her memories were all she had of Xavier. She didn’t need them sullied by his constant guilt. It was too much, his constant attempts to make up for any shortcomings or slights from the past. To sprint down a path of what-ifs, only to end up with the same conclusion. Xavier. Was. Gone.

He cleared his throat and stood, wiping his eye. “Want me to leave it out for your next visitor?” Grant gestured toward the folding chair.

Jenny let the book fall to her chest. “No, I think I want to be alone for awhile.”

“Gotcha. No problem, girlie.” Grant folded the chair and slid it underneath the lounger. “I know how you ladies are with your alone time.” He gave a halfhearted chuckle, letting it trail off before he started again, “Thanks for listenin’ to this old man ramble on.”

“Anytime. You know that.”

He stepped into the adjoining room of her tent.

“Grant,” she called. The swishing of his feet over the nylon floor stopped. “I owe you.” His head poked back into the rear portion of the tent. From Jenny’s angle, the lantern’s glow cast deep shadows beneath his eyes, a yellow tinge to his skin. He appeared sickly hunched over in the tent—his hands still quivering as it held back the door. “Me and Matt owe you our lives. You know that, right?”

“You two don’t owe me nothin’. I owe you.” He lowered his voice. “No tellin’ what the S.A. would’ve done with me. I knew too much. They might’ve just been toyin’ around with me before they’d finally taken me out. Honestly, if it weren’t for you two talkin’ me into leavin’, I’d prolly be the next one out on the scaffolding. Just… just swingin’ there.” His voice broke a little, and he scratched along the bridge of his nose. “Don’t ever think it no other way. I owe the both of you.”

“We’ll call it even, then.” Jenny knew he meant it. His acts of kindness. His checking up on her. Grant’s concern never crossed the line of overbearing, never gave the impression he helped because he felt she couldn’t provide for herself. Never because she was just a girl. He was there because he cared, genuinely cared.

“Get some rest.”

After Grant left, she continued to read for another hour or two, anxiously biding her time before her inevitable conversation with Danny. He’s going to sit me out. I just know it. Numerous times she had to go back and read entire pages. Too worried. Too distracted. Occasionally, the stamping of boots outside her tent gave her hope, then nothing—no Danny.

In between her thoughts and any passing commotion, the silence was driving her mad. All that anticipation. Not to mention the worry of her pregnancy and how she’d manage that. Plus, how Danny would manage her in that condition once he knew. How much longer could she hide it? She palmed her belly with both hands. Still flat. Once this gets out, I’m done… And I thought Matt and Danny were overprotective before. She set the book next to the lantern. There had been enough relaxing. I’m gonna go find him.

She slid her legs from the lounger and nearly knocked a canteen over that Grant had forgotten. May as well… A quick swig, refreshing. Thirst always seemed to sneak up on her, especially in the winter—the lack of heat and sweat gave her a false sense of being hydrated. It wasn’t until she saw the canteen that her mouth felt dry and wanting for what was inside. She drew a few more gulps then put it on her side table. Much better.

Secretively, she squeezed her head from the tent, peeking in both directions before sealing it back up. Still no Danny… What’s taking him so long? Jenny snatched her pants from atop a small trunk at the foot of her lounger. They were still cold from earlier, moist in some spots. She sighed, and with no other choice, began to jerk them on. But before she managed to get her second leg through, the tent’s zipper shook, startling her. “I’m changing. Give me a sec,” she forced a loud whisper.

The rustling didn’t let up.

“Hey!” No longer a whisper. “I’m changing. Give it up.” She hobbled toward the door, one leg still working to get inside a pant leg. “Stop, damn it!” Gripping the zipper, she managed to tear it away from the trespasser and seal it again. It seemed to be enough to deliver the message. “I’ll only be another second.”

“Jenny…”

Who the hell is that? “Matt?”

Nothing.

No, Matt knows not to just barge in here. Annoyed, she called out again, “Who is it?”

“Let me in. Or I’ll huff and I’ll puff…”

Her heart sank. Griffin. Damn it. Why…? I thought he was supposed to be gone. “Almost finished.” Although she wanted to scream, tell him off, she couldn’t, not with him. No one dared stand up to him. I’ve got to get out of here. “I’m heading out. We can talk outside.”

“That’s no good.”

Now, only a foot from the door, Jenny stood frozen in place, unable to move as the small zipper swung around its track. Her breathing accelerated. The tent seemed to be collapsing on her. She retreated, but with nowhere to go, her feet moved back toward the front. When he opens it up, I’m going to squeeze right by him. Waiting. Breathing. Then, the zipper stopped short, and Griffin pushed his way through, sealing the tent behind him, leaving nothing to chance. “Anyone else in here?” His eyes were serious, brown and deep.

Jenny lifted the partition to the back of her tent. “No one. Go ahead. Take a look.” She held her breath, waiting for his feet to move, so she could escape. Or at least try.

“I trust you. No need for that.” He stepped toward her, shoulders stiff and broad—tribal tattoos ran the length of his exposed arms. “What took you so long?” he asked, eyes locked, his path aimed squarely at her. She had no choice, but to bury herself further into the tent. “You know I don’t like secrets.”

“I said I was changing.”

“That should’ve been reason enough to let me in sooner,” he said, towering over her, barely a foot away.

She trembled down onto her lounger, her body folding inward, anything to keep him from touching her. It didn’t work. He set his hand on her shoulder. Her gut twitched. “You—you shouldn’t be in here,” she stumbled, managing something close to a whisper.

If Griffin had heard her, he didn’t lead on as such, his thumb began along her collar bone, longingly. Slight pressure. Lust-filled. “Something very special about you, you know?”

“Please…” She turned her head from him. His words, his touch made her skin crawl.

“Heard you were hurt, so I came to check on you.” Griffin lifted her chin, trying to force her eyes to meet with his, but she kept them away. “Gotta check on my folks, right? Can’t have people thinking that I don’t care. Isn’t that thoughtful of me?”

“Yes,”—she wriggled her face from his hand and tucked it into her shoulder—“very thoughtful.” She forced a hurt smile. “We all appreciate what you give us here.”

“I would hope so. Taking you three in out of the goodness of my heart. Who else would’ve done that?”

Jenny said nothing.

“Huh?” He grabbed her face, contorting it in his hand, leaning in toward her. “Who else would have been genius enough to see this place for what it is?” Spittle landed with his anger. “No one else had the resources to put this together. All this shit is mine.”

“I know it is.”

“You still owe me.”

Jenny gulped. “I—”

Griffin shoved her face. “And don’t you forget it.”

“Jenny, you decent?” It was Danny.

“Yes. Come in!” The zipper couldn’t make it around quick enough.

A sense of relief washed over her as she snatched the lantern and shot from the bed toward the front room. Griffin casually followed her, playing off any hostility.

“Damn zipper,” Danny cursed.

“Need some help?” Jenny begged, inching her way to the side opposite Griffin, making it so when Danny entered, he’d be in between the two of them, unknowingly protecting her.

Griffin mouthed to her, “Not a word.”

She creaked a timid up and down with her chin, cowering in the corner, keeping watch of him. Why can’t you leave me alone? The hate plastered across his face was unnerving. Everything about him was unnerving.

“Griff, what you doing here?”

Finally!

“Heard our little deer hunter wasn’t feeling well, so I figured I’d come and check on her. Make sure she’s alright.” His eyes never left her. “Isn’t that right?”

Jenny nodded.

“Seems like you’re feeling better.” Danny took hold of her shoulders and squared himself to her, giving her a once-over. “You’re gonna—” He paused as if he knew she was in distress. Jenny had never been good at hiding her emotion, especially from Danny. His gaze narrowed into hers. She felt that her eyes bled with the anger Griffin bore into them just moments ago. Couldn’t Danny see the redness along her jaw from where Griffin had nearly ripped it off? “Are you okay?” He took the lantern from her and hung it on its hook.

“Yes…” Jenny felt it sounded unconvincing enough to warrant a follow-up question, but none arrived.

“Good.” He offered a stern nod. “Now, I thought long and hard on it, and I know you’re gonna be pissed, but you’re gonna have to take a little break from training. Can’t have you running around fainting on us again. House mouse duty it is for a little while.”

“Nice,” Griffin said. “It’ll be good having Jenny around here on a more frequent basis. Things always run a little better with her around.”

Fuck you! She nearly broke down at the thought, but slammed her eyes shut, keeping her tears inside. “Can’t I—” But she stopped herself, knowing a complaint would only piss Danny off, knowing it wouldn’t change his mind, especially if she questioned his decision in front of Griffin. “Let me guess.” She stifled a sob. “I’ll be doing the daily checks?”

“Just a time out. It’s not the end of the world.”

But it felt like it was. You can’t do this to me. It’ll kill me to keep me bottled up in here with him. Without the outside world. I need that! I can’t be here alone.

“Nothing to say?” Danny gave her a moment. “What if I try and assign you with Grant? Would that be better? Maybe learn someth—”

“I think I’d rather she be on the daily checks,” Griffin interrupted. “Grant has Lars to help him out. He doesn’t need anyone else. If she’s working the dailies with the other folks, they’ll get done faster, and she’ll have more downtime to get her rest, right Jenny?”

She said nothing. Her lack of response caused Griffin’s jaw to bulge.

“It hasn’t been that long,” Danny said. “You remember what you’re doing, or do you need a walk-through refresher?”

“Actually, you know what”—Jenny shifted her attention back to Griffin—“it feels like it’s been awhile. Probably wouldn’t hurt to have a quick run-through.”

“Alright, after breakfast tomorrow, we’ll handle it.”

Griffin smirked. She noticed his clenched fists down at his side, the knuckles flaring—a quick temper rose inside of him. Scowling, he made his way toward the door. “Just make sure she’s ready to go by tomorrow afternoon. No mistakes!” His outburst seemed to shake the tent, but Jenny realized it was simply Griffin unzipping the door to leave. The thumping of his boots trailed off.

Once convinced he wasn’t coming back, Jenny exhaled—her breathing, her pulse, everything began to normalize. Danny watched her unwind in front of him. “I still don’t get why you like him so much.” Her words punched with hostility.

Danny cast a strange look across his face. “Old habits never die, I guess.”

“Who cares if he was your partner! You guys aren’t the police anymore!”

“You done yet? You look done. Might want to take it easy before you pass out again.”

“Low blow, Danny.” Ass. “You want to know the truth, even though it’s none of your business?”

He waited.

“I’m—”

“Pregnant.”

The word stunned her. To hear someone else say it made it much more real. She rested her hands lightly against her stomach and looked at him. He unhooked the lantern and gestured for her to follow him to the back. She followed him while her mind wandered. How does he know? Is it that obvious? Does Matt know? Danny seated himself on the lounger and patted the cushion next to him. Jenny took the spot, immediately bracing herself against his shoulder.

Silently, Danny stared at the floor.

“How’d you know?” Jenny begged. “How?”

“You don’t have four kids yourself and not know when a woman’s pregnant.” Wrapping his arm around her, he let out a quick laugh. “Oh, and there’s this.” He set the pregnancy test into her lap.

“How’d you—?” She manipulated it in her hand. “How’d you find it.”

“Went to piss in the backyard. Must’ve still been warm ‘cause the snow around it was gone.”

“You’re lying.”

“I know, I accidentally peed on it too.”

“Eww.” She dropped it.

“I’m kidding,” he laughed. “But seriously, with four kids, it wasn’t a secret. The test just confirmed it.”

“You never mentioned you had—”

“No one shares everything with everyone.” He licked his lips. “Right?”

“I was going to—”

“It’s your business, not mine. You don’t have to tell anyone, but eventually people are gonna know. You can only hide it for so long. Dressing for the winter weather will hide it for now, but once it’s spring and you get bigger, you’re not gonna want to wear all that shit.”

“I wanted to say something…” Tears began to well inside her eyes. “I’m scared.”

“We’re here for you.” He squeezed her tightly against him. “You know we got you.”

“We? Did you tell Matt?”

“Not my place to tell him.”

“Thanks.” She nuzzled deeper into the crook of his shoulder, crying. “I still don’t know how the hell to do this.”

“We’ll get both of you through it.”

“Matt’s gonna be—”

“Not talking about Matt. Talking about you and the baby.”

Jenny tried to smile but couldn’t. “I know…” She drew back from him, tying her hair up, trying to distract herself enough to suppress the flow of tears. “Don’t make me do checks.” A sniffle and she wiped her sleeve across her eyes and nose.

“We have to…”

“But what about my training? I’ve worked too hard.” Her crying deepened. “I can still do it. Don’t—”

“I can’t have you getting hurt, especially now that you’re…”

Jenny scowled—angry this had become an excuse, a reason to exclude her. She bit hard into her lip, trying her damnedest not to snap. A deep breath then she eased into her argument. “I’m not feeble. Yeah, I know I passed out today, but I’ve been overdoing it, not eating. I won’t do that again. If I’m with you, you can watch over me and make sure I take care of myself. Don’t leave me here.” The thought of Griffin and seeing him every day caused her breathing to elevate. “Don’t do that to me.”

Danny ran his hands through his hair and sighed before cradling his forehead in his hands. “I…” He drew his head back. The light from the lantern showed his deep thought—the back and forth within him.

“I’ll listen,” Jenny urged. “I’ll listen to everything. I can help. I shot the deer today. I’m not a child.”

“You need to get some sleep. Let me think on it, and I’ll let you know in the morning.”

“It’s not that—”

“Listening, right? To everything? It’d be good to start that right now.”

Jenny nodded emphatically, sniffing, drying a few more tears from her face. “Yeah, okay. You’re right.”

Danny pitched her another granola bar that had been taken from the house earlier in the day. “Eat this and go to bed.”

“Right.”

“So, it’s Jenny, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, come on now, you don’t have to be so formal with me. I know I’m in charge and everything, but most around here just call me Griffin. Maybe a few other things behind my back, but Griffin’s what I prefer. That sir stuff went out the window a long time ago.”

“Griffin… Okay, I can do that. And just so you know, that’s all I’ve heard you be called. I haven’t heard a negative thing about you or anyone else since we’ve been here. This place is great. Everyone’s been so nice and happy to show us around.”

“Well, that I’m glad to hear. We’ve done our best to be a beacon for others in the area. Quite a few people that’ve been lost or ready to give up have come to our door looking for a second chance. You three aren’t the first.”

“Believe me, all of us appreciate it. You have no idea.”

“It’s simple enough here. All I ask is you earn your keep by working hard and following the rules. That sounds reasonable, right?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Good. So, let me think here… It’s been about what, two weeks now?”

“I think that’s right.”

“Did they assign you a job yet?”

“They—”

“Not a big deal if they haven’t. Sometimes it takes awhile to find where you fit in. I know they assigned Grant over with Lars, seems like that’ll be a good fit for the both of them. But where to put you…”

“They have me helping with the daily checks, little things like that.”

“Oh. Well, that sounds about right. It’s a good starter job for the newcomers. It’ll ease you into the Depot, show you how things are done. But tell me, and be honest, what would you like to do if you could have your pick?”

“Probably something outside like scavenging through houses, stores—things like that.”

“I thought I saw something different in you. You like danger. You’re not like the other women here. There’s something special behind those eyes. How old are you?”

“I’m… sixteen.”

“Hmmm. I would’ve guessed you were at least twenty. You just carry yourself that way. I like that. Maybe after a few more weeks of getting your feet wet around here, I can get you on Danny’s team. Derrick’s there now, but he’s expressed interest in working sentry duty. Maybe we can work a transition for the both of you.”

“I’d like that.”

“I figured you would. You and Danny seem to have hit it off pretty quick. You two have something going on there?”

“No. I just— He just… What are you doing?”

“He’s my partner, and… partners share.”

“Wait… What? There’s nothing to share. He’s just a friend. Danny reminds me of my dad. That’s it! That’s all! What the hell?”

“Well maybe I can be your daddy…”

“Get off! Get the fuck off me!”

“Nuh uh uh. Another outburst like that and…”

“You can’t—”

“Oh, I can. And you’ll let me. If not, you won’t see past the end of the day. And if you say anything to anyone, run off, anything like that, your two friends won’t make it either. So, how about we get started by taking off that top?”

Trudging forward, Jenny pried each boot loose from the snow—one miserable step followed by the next. Danny and Sherman seemed unhindered in their movements. Jenny, however, was falling behind, winded already from her effort in keeping up. Getting close. Just suck it up a bit longer. She took a deliberate eye to her surroundings. I think… With each bend in their path, she was beginning to doubt her judgment. The wooded trail to the training grounds seemed longer than before. Nothing seemed to trigger familiarity. Any landmark hidden or disguised by snow. The little nuances gone. Everything changed by the season. Danny knows where he’s going. Focus on you—what you need to be doing.

“You look good with that rifle,” Danny called back to her.

“I know.” She canted her M1A Scout rifle, admiring it—the walnut stock, polished, beautiful. A little heavier than an average rifle, but she loved it.

Over a month ago, when they first went out to fire it, Danny tried to warn her. But of course, Jenny thought he was teasing, or simply overexaggerating what was to come. Unsurprisingly, he let her try it her way—the way she insisted—with her sloppy stance, her loose grip. It took only one press of the trigger and she found out the truth while falling to her ass. Danny never teased when it came to firearms.

Luckily for her, it didn’t take long for Danny to fix her issues and the bruise on her face to heal. The lesson was learned. Now, the rifle was hers. Assigned to her. Perfect for her. Efficient and deadly with her.

While walking, she tried to cover the endless list of things Danny inundated her with every day.Finger off the trigger unless you’re ready to shoot your target. Keep it at a low ready, but able to snap on target in an instant. Be vigilant, but not scared. Breathe. Reload behind cover. Know what cover’s available. Always know your next move, where you’re going.

Danny stopped and turned back toward her, squinting into the sun. “Only a little bit longer.” He watched her as she made up the ground between them. “Good grip. And, not pointing it at the people in front you. Things seem to be finally sinking in with you.”

“I learned from the best…” She slid the kerchief from her mouth and leaned in toward him, whispering, “Or is it just the only person left? I can’t remember.”

“Both?” He chuckled, flipping the kerchief back over her smiling face. “Better tighten that thing up. Not even your big nose can keep it in place.”

“Big nose? You’re one to talk…”

“Maybe you’re right…”—he pinched along the bridge of his nose—“Oh, well.” Shrugging his rucksack to the ground, he began sorting through his equipment. “Alright, kiddo, you ready?”

Jenny nodded, struggling to convey a cool exterior. Why does this happen every time? Her nervousness, her fear of failure took grip. Get it together, Jenny. It’s just Sherman. It’s just Danny. It’s training, Jenny, training.

“Do me a favor and take a couple breaths,” Danny said. “Long ones. I can see it in your eyes already. Don’t be too eager for this, alright?”

She did as she was told. Long, biting breaths, driving air deep into her lungs. The cold was too much, and she coughed.

“Maybe not so much,” Danny said. “In… Out… There you go. In… Out… Good. Keep that up.” Danny wiped a few strands of hair from his forehead. “So, I know we haven’t been getting out here as much as you’d like. Sorry about that, but you’ve been getting your reps in elsewhere. Well, kinda. We’ll forget these last two weeks or so that you’ve been draggin’ ass on us.”

Jenny narrowed her eyes at him while he chuckled again.

“I know why. I’m not trying to start anything, okay? All I’m saying, or trying to say, is that besides those two weeks, you’ve been doing great. All these scouts we’ve been doing are keeping you fresh. Or, hell, making you better. The other day, when those shots came out, I…” He paused, seemingly unwilling to let what was to follow leave his lips. “I… I was impressed. All I can hope is that what we train for becomes second nature. The stuff that happens without thinking. What you and Matt did was pure reaction. It was great. Nothing like some of the idiots I’ve seen before. Some might have just sat there in the window. Frozen. But not you guys.”

The kerchief kept Jenny’s blushing cheeks hidden. “Thanks, Danny.”

“Welcome. Now listen up, from here on, I’m gonna let you take Sherman. Take him across the flat and down the hill to get the feel for him again. Remember, he needs to be handled. For the most part, he can be pretty self-sufficient, but if he needs corrected, do it before shit goes bad. Once we get to the training grounds, you’ll need to be a little more thoughtful. Take your time with your technique, with your gun work.

“Here, you’ll need this.” From his ruck, Danny took a leg holster and handed it to her.

“Awesome.” She smoothed her pant leg and wrapped the holster around it. “That look right?”

“One sec…” He stretched her cargo pants pocket further down, and Jenny cinched the holster tighter. “There. And, now just the top loop through your belt here. Good. Looks good, but it’s missing something pretty important.” Danny held out the Glock he’d found on their last scout, magazine ejected, slide locked to the rear.

“Well, yeah.” Taking it, she checked that it wasn’t loaded, then popped in the magazine, worked the slide, and dropped it into its holster. “Now, I’m ready.”

“Not quite. I got you something else.” Danny dangled a brand-new canine lead from his hand. “I prefer a leather lead, so now you prefer a leather lead too.”

Proudly, Jenny squeezed it in her gloved hand. Man! I can’t believe I finally got my own lead. The black leather felt tight, crisp, rigid, nothing close to Danny’s worn lead where the slack bounced nicely with Sherman’s pace. This one was hers to break in. Hers to put the miles on. She wrapped it around her wrist a few times and jerked it with her other hand. Sturdy. “This means everything to me, Danny.” Their rifles clacked together as she leapt into him, squeezing him with a big hug. “Seriously, you didn’t have to do any of this. Thank you.”

“We’re not having a moment here, so don’t get too whatever with the sappy stuff.” He peeled her from himself. “It’s not yours yet. You’ve got to earn it to keep it. It’s just for training today.”

“Right!”

“I’ll be covering you now.” He unclipped his lead from Sherman’s harness and ruffled his fur, riling him up. “Ready, boy?! You ready?!” Sherman sprung up from the ground, circling around Danny, splashing through the snow. A whine. A few barks. “Alright, alright, Sherm’.” Danny gripped the harness, clipping Jenny’s lead to it. “You’re listening to the lady now.”

Jenny forced a deep, frozen inhale to try and calm her nerves again. This is it, Jenny. You got this. Get this training done. Show Danny you still know what you’re doing. Own this. You can’t afford to slip up. “Hier.” Sherman took to her side, and Danny took to his rifle behind them.

Through the twist of branches below the crest of the hill, sat the Depot’s training ground—a cul-de-sac with houses in various stages of construction. Jenny had cleared those homes before, more times than she cared to remember. She knew the layout. Knew what to expect for the most part. Even with Sherman, this wasn’t much different. It might not be the most exciting training, but it was this or daily checks, and she’d take most anything before that. Don’t make Danny regret this decision. Don’t give him a reason to send you back.

“Let’s go, boy,” Jenny said.

Sherman bounded off, and Jenny suffered a quick jolt when the lead reached its limit. With him, there was no in between. He was all-go, despite Jenny pulling him back. His legs churned at a vigorous clip, his paws shooting puffs of snow into the air behind him. Some chunks thrown so far back they struck against her pant legs. Damn, pup! You’re making me look bad. She didn’t want to say anything. Didn’t want to give Danny the impression she was hurting to keep up. And to her fortune, he didn’t seem to notice, or at least didn’t say as much.

After half a mile of fighting through his exhausting pace, they met the hill’s descent, and Sherman finally slowed. Phew! He was relatively surefooted and seemed almost annoyed at Jenny’s tentative, choppy steps down the face of the hill. She found staying balanced difficult, one hand outstretched, pulled by Sherman, the other pressing against the ground or grabbing hold of brush to help regain her footing. When the hill bottomed out, they came to a small creek winding its way through the beginnings of an open field which led to the training grounds. Jenny brought them to its edge, wiping the snow from a large rock so she could sit and rest while Sherman drank.

“Okay, kiddo?” Danny’s breathing seemed heavy too. “This snow’s deep, huh?”

“Yeah…” Jenny gazed out at the training grounds. The yards. The houses. Familiarizing herself with the path she’d be taking.

“Never seems to bother him, though. He’s always loved the winter.” Danny balled up some snow. “Right, boy?” Sherman turned from the creek, and Danny tossed the snowball toward his mouth. He caught it, enthusiastically chewing through the powder. “Always willing to play.”

“He seems to like the work too.”

“He doesn’t know the difference. Work is play to him.”

“That makes sense.”

The two of them chatted a while longer, allowing Sherman to get his fill. Once the sound of his tongue lapping water ceased, Jenny got down from the rock, dusting her pants off before kneeling next to Sherman. “Ready, boy?” she whispered to him.

“He’s listening to you better lately.”

Jenny simply nodded, trying to regain her focus.

“Seems you’re ready then. I want to see what you can do with this pup.”

“Let’s go!” With her first step, Sherman took many, skittering across the creek, not paying any mind to getting wet. It left Jenny with little choice but to follow, hastily placing her feet across the stones. To her surprise, she made it with little difficulty, although soggy from where her boots had slipped once or twice. In the openness of the field, the lead’s slack quickly ran out, and she fell behind again. I can’t keep up. Why can’t I think of the damn word to get him to stop?

“Platz!” Danny called. Sherman responded immediately, laying down, but his paws kneaded at the ground, still wanting nothing more than to go.

Jenny threw her head back in disgust. “Damn it, Danny,” she huffed. “At least give me a chance.”

“You have to correct him.”

“I was about to do—”

“Was that before or after he started pulling you around like a sled?”

“Before…” she muttered, hustling through the calf-deep snow to Sherman.

“I gave you a little leeway up top with him, but not here. You need to treat this as the real thing. There can’t be any excuses. You’re in control. He’s your dog right now. Act like it.”

He’s right. Sherman’s my dog right now. My dog. I’ve done this before. Act like it! Jenny swiped the fresh powder from her eyes as she came even with Sherman. Kneeling down, she scratched under his muzzle then across the top of his head and ears. “Come on, boy, you’re making me look bad.” He whined while still pawing at the ground. “The better we work together the more we can do stuff like this.”

“He’s ready,” Danny said impatiently.

“I know—” Jenny turned, only to find Danny essentially on top of her, watching her every move. “How about some space?”

“How about no? We’re close to home, but not close enough. If the wrong sort of person comes through here, then we have to be ready.”

“No one comes through here anymore.”

“I’m not taking that risk.” Danny shook his head. “Just… Jenny, I’m giving you the chance to train outside of my better judgment. Take this blessing and for once, just once, quit fighting every damn thing I say and think for a second. What’s stopping someone from coming through here?”

“I…” Jenny looked around her. Sure, this was their group’s training ground, but there was nothing that secured it. It was an open street with open houses. Only a few of them even had the ability to be locked. And that wouldn’t really stop anyone. To a stranger, there would be no way of knowing the Depot used this cul-de-sac for training. Anyone coming through here might decide this was their new home. It didn’t take much. A person only had to throw their bag down and it was theirs. “I understand.”

“Again.” Danny nudged Jenny with his elbow. “Let’s go.”

Jenny gave the lead a few tugs, and Sherman rose from the ground. This time, she wrapped the lead around her balled fist to keep him closer than before—not willing to let him get out of her control again. They pushed on through the snow at a much slower pace and into a backyard of one of the more complete houses. With Sherman at her side, Jenny leaned into the wall of unfinished brick near the back door to the house. “What do you think?” Jenny asked, looking back toward Danny.

He remained stiff, standing to her rear, rifle up and ready for whatever might wish them harm. “You tell me. You’re in charge.”

“Alright then…” Grabbing the screen door, Jenny tugged, but it was locked. This one’s always open. Uneasiness fell over her. “What the hell?” Would’ve been nice to clear the street from inside here. She groaned, giving the door another quick jerk. “Someone might be inside…”

“So, what do you do now?” Danny asked.

“No choice but to go around front, right? Check and see what all we have.”

“Don’t want a different house?”

“If someone’s inside here, we don’t want them having an advantage on us if we’re moving around the street. This house has the best concealment. We’ve gotta clear it.”

“I knew you liked this house.”

“What?” Jenny bent an eyebrow. “Why you say that?”

“No reason…”

They took off toward the front. Past the back door and below the windows. Between the pallets of bricks. Over and around trees that hadn’t been planted, lying on their sides, root balls still wrapped in brown canvas. After rounding the rear corner and nearing the front of the house, Jenny startled. “Platz!” The three of them came to an immediate stop. Pain shot through her chest—her heartbeat racing. Her eyes darted back and forth along a stretch of footprints coming from the end of the street. Shit! She slammed her back against the house.

“What you got?” Danny asked.

“Footprints come— coming from the dead end of the street.” She pointed, her finger nearly shaking loose from her hand. “Between those houses near the woods. They come this way, but— but I can’t tell exactly where they end up.”

“Find out!”

Jenny closed her eyes, collecting her thoughts, her bearings, searching for the word she needed to ensure Sherman wouldn’t move. She kept the lead tight within her hand, fearful of letting it go. Then, it came. “Bleib,” she ordered, glancing over to Sherman. Worried he wouldn’t heed the command, she only inched her foot forward half a step. He didn’t move, didn’t even seem to consider it, so she dropped the lead to the ground. Can’t risk you yanking me if I’m aiming at something. Stay put for me boy.

Creeping toward the front corner of the house, Jenny rocked her rifle up and into her shoulder, clearing the far end of the street. Working her way across, she steadied the muzzle over the houses opposite them. Two of them were merely frames, no basement. However, the house next to those was nearly habitable, similar to the one Jenny was currently hunkered down against.

Take it slow… The garage was open. No one inside. Each window appeared vacant, but she had no choice but to take several passes—her attention slow and methodical in clearing every perch, every nook that someone could settle in. Each additional pass over the house convinced her it sat empty. Nothing seemed disturbed. No real sign of life. No footprints across its yard. But it was always possible someone could’ve snuck through from behind. She had to consider the possibility. After all, they had done the same.

“Okay…” She puffed a few breaths. She retreated from the corner only slightly, angling back to pie off the nearside. Piece by piece, her muzzle revealed more of the same. The stillness of the street. Lifeless. I really don’t think anyone’s here. “These footprints have got to be old.”

“You willing to bet your life on it?”

No… “Alright, boy,” she said. “Seek!” The canine sprung from his position. Jenny and Danny followed—rifles back in position, covering Sherman as he rushed straight to the cut of footprints through the yard. Amazing! These police dogs don’t mess around. His nose hovered just above the snow, deliberate. He straightened up for a split second then turned away from the far end of the cul-de-sac. “Can he tell which way the prints are going?” she asked Danny over her shoulder.

“Something like that. He can pick up on where the scent is stronger, but we should probably look at the prints and see which way they’re pointing. Give him a little help.”

“Doesn’t look like he needs it,” she said, impressed with the fact Sherman was now scurrying for the house. Jenny hugged the front wall, taking a beeline to meet Sherman on the porch. Upon approach, she immediately noticed the fractured jamb, the door ajar. “Platz.” From outside, she visually cleared what she could of the front rooms and held her position against the jamb, rifle out, sights aligned, targeting the inside. “It’s been kicked in.” Her words were quick and low to Danny.

This… She struggled to gather her thoughts. To her, this was supposed to be a training exercise. Practice. Something to hone her skills, to show Danny she’d been paying attention. It all became too real in too big a hurry. She swallowed, her breaths speeding uncontrollably from her gaping mouth. The handkerchief gathered moisture, becoming uncomfortably cold against her skin. Briefly, her eyes searched for advice in Danny’s face, but there was nothing offered. He simply dipped his chin, pushing her to go on.

Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this…? Maybe Danny was right. She couldn’t help but think this kind of stress, this rise and fall of adrenaline, of her heartbeat, was bad for the pregnancy. “Danny…” It pained her to finish what she was about to say. “I—I can’t do this.”

“You asked for this now finish it.” He gestured toward the door.

Jenny shook her head. “No. The baby. I can’t… I can’t risk getting hurt.”

“Damn it, Jenny! You dragged us out here in the damn snow for your selfish— whatever the hell the reason was. You’re not backing out now. Sometimes we don’t get a choice. Sometimes you just have to handle what comes your way. That baby isn’t an excuse. She’s gonna be your reason to live. To push through. You either want to fight and survive or not. And whatever your choice is will affect your baby! So it’s time to grow the fuck up!”

She swallowed. The truth hurt going down. The mix of emotions that had swelled inside her throat pained her to ingest. He’s right. I have to learn to protect my baby. I don’t have a choice. She stared blankly into the house. The rifle shook in her hands, her muscles beginning to burn from its weight. I just have to train until I’m the best. I have Danny. I have Sherman. I can do this. “Danny, hold the entrance.”

“There you go.”

“Sherman, seek!” she called out.

The retired police canine curled to the right and through the foyer toward the back hallway. Jenny went left into a living room. Drywall, absent paint—no carpet or hardwood, simply plywood subflooring riddled with wet footprints. Someone had certainly been through here. Fairly recent by the looks of it. Luckily for Jenny, if anyone was still here and absent-minded enough to move, there would be no hiding it. The clacking of Sherman’s claws echoed around the corners of every room. There was little doubt that any other movement wouldn’t be so easily heard.

Stealthily, she advanced through the unfinished living room, past a fireplace, posting up at the corner with her eyes floating over the rifle’s sights. The wet prints tracked through a galley kitchen and cut right to a door sitting partially open. Jenny pulled it wide, then descended a flight of stairs leading into the basement. Bare walls of the foundation. Concrete floor. Studs separating what would have been different rooms. A waste of time. No one. It was cleared within a minute of entering.

Back in the kitchen, she turned right from the basement, continuing into the dining room. More of the same. Nothing but bare walls and plywood. In the family room, at the rear of the house, she double-checked the backdoor. Still locked. From there, she came full circle into the foyer. A flight of stairs to her right and a hallway that led into two first-floor bedrooms. “Hier.” Sherman promptly exited one of the back rooms and went to her, settling in at the foot of the stairs leading to the second floor.

“Bleib.” Sherman held his position while Jenny went and searched the first-floor bedrooms for her own peace of mind. “All clear down here.”

Danny threw a thumbs-up over his shoulder, still holding the rifle pointed out the front door.

Upstairs, the floor creaked.

Shit! Jenny spun her rifle toward the top of the stairs. Sherman barked, but stayed put. “If you’re up there, announce yourself!” Jenny shouted. “If you don’t come down on your own, my dog will find you, and he will bite you! No one needs to get hurt!”

Another creak of the floor.

“You’re not leaving me with much choice!” She kept the muzzle trained at the top of the stairs. “Last chance!” Nothing. She readied herself with a few breaths. “Alright, boy… Seek!”

Sherman shot up the stairs. Jenny crept behind him, working her rifle along the unpainted walls atop the landing. Where the hell are they? The house had fallen into silence, giving nothing away. No clues to her adversary’s position. Sherman cut left from the stairs, and Jenny held the top, focusing the rifle toward a closed door at the end of the hallway to the right. Come on, boy. We got this!

Once Sherman returned, he and Jenny took to the last room in the house. He tried nudging it open but couldn’t. Jenny braced herself against the wall and steadied the rifle, forward and level toward where the door would open. She stood listening, nervous. This is it. The last place in the house.

With one hand, she flung the door open, banging it against the wall. Sherman wasted no time storming through. Briefly, she saw that the left side of the room sat empty, but the door’s recoil from hitting the wall blocked her view of the nearside. She stepped through the gap and backed into the far corner, her rifle fixed on the nearside, her only unknown. Again, nothing. Another empty room. Only the stiff wind from an open window gave the room any life. Sherman had his paws on the windowsill. “What you got, boy?”

Below the window, on the roof of the garage, distinct bootprints led into the backyard and disappeared up the hill toward the Depot. Jenny leaned against the window frame in an attempt to see if she’d missed something. What the hell just happened? Only a single trail of prints. She pulled the window closed. “Danny, we gotta get back! Whoever it is left for the Depot!”

“Just hold up a sec!”

“Didn’t you hear me?!” She shouted, rushing from the unfinished bedroom. “They’re heading back to the Depot!”

“I heard you. Just sit your ass down in that room. Show me what you’re talking about.”

What the hell is wrong with him? She returned to the window to verify what she had seen. Again, just the single trail of footprints through the yard and up the hill. At least I’m not going crazy. Dumbfounded with Danny’s indifference to the threat, she slid her back against the wall and sat, waiting with Sherman’s head in her lap.

The front door slammed a few times—a futile attempt to close it with its broken frame. Eventually, Danny gave up, and the clopping of his boots echoed up the stairs. “Where you at?”

“Where you told me to be.”

“You find anyone?” he asked, smiling as he entered the room. She still felt herself shaking from the adrenaline dump and didn’t appreciate the blithe look on Danny’s face. “You catch the guy?”

“I said they got out and were heading for the Depot.” Her face was stone cold. “We need to go and warn them.” She tried to stand, but Danny palmed her head, keeping her from getting up.

“Relax, kiddo.” Danny tousled her sock hat then sat down beside her.

“I should have moved faster. Shouldn’t have second guessed myself so much. Now, they got away.”

Danny couldn’t help himself any longer and began laughing. “Training. It’s all training.”

Annoyed, her eyes caught his. “You’re playing me?”

“Not exactly…” He smiled again. “Someone was here. Once you got inside, he went out the window and down the garage. So, you did what you were supposed to do. Great job.”

She stood. “You’re a dick.” Her eyes went back to the window. “Who was it? Who’d you talk into risking a broken leg sliding down the roof here?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Matt?”

“Why’s it matter?”

“Because it was stupid.” She continued staring out the window. “At least let them know I appreci—” Jenny’s stomach twisted into knots. Her eyes went wide. Oh, shit… In the distance, four strangers traipsed down the street from the mouth of the cul-de-sac. Black uniforms. Unmistakably Second Alliance. She felt faint, touching her hand to the wall, sinking slowly toward the floor.

“It’s…” The room began to spin. “It’s…”

“What? What is it?”

Danny’s feet scraped against the plywood as he clambered to his feet to help ease her to the floor. “You okay?”

“It’s…”

“It’s wha—” He took a moment at the window. “Who the hell are those people Griffin’s with?”

Jenny couldn’t answer. Again, darkness had fallen upon her. She could only imagine what was to come. After seeing the takeover of River’s Edge… Now, Griffin leading them to the Depot. It was happening all over again. Why? Why again? It was too soon. Too soon to face Xavier’s murderers. Too soon to have to deal with them again.

“This won’t end well,” Jenny huffed, slogging through the snow behind Danny and Sherman. She yanked her kerchief down. “I’m serious! They’re no good!” Neither Danny nor Sherman reacted to her warning. She couldn’t even be sure her voice reached them up the hill. The appearance of these Second Alliance strangers had Danny consumed by curiosity. Had him trekking home with seemingly endless strength, endless stamina. He kept plowing ahead. Sherman too. And Jenny was falling behind. Again. “Danny! Please! Just listen to me for a second. You can’t go into this blind. You know it’s not a good idea. Let me—”

“Let you what?” Finally, he slowed, but wouldn’t stop. For him, the hill peaked only a few paces away.

“I’m telling you the S.A., er… The Second Alliance is no good!”

“How the hell do you know what they’re called?”

“It’s…” Jenny’s voice faded, she tossed her head back in frustration, hating herself for not telling him earlier, for not sharing what Danny deserved to know. It had been wrong to keep it from him. She should’ve told him where she and her friends had come from and why they had fled. Maybe then Danny could’ve warned Griffin of the Second Alliance and the whole thing could have been avoided. Maybe we were wrong…

“How do you know who they are?” Danny asked again from atop the hill, clearly annoyed with Jenny’s unwillingness to reveal all she knew. “We’ve never seen them before. Not even in as many times as we—” He pulled the kerchief from his mouth and scoffed. “Shit… How the hell didn’t I see it sooner? These are the ones in black, aren’t they? The ones you asked about in that house where we got shot at? The ones that had you so worried?” His tone became aggressive. “Why are they looking for you, Jenny? What did you do to them?”

“What did I do?! What the hell, Danny?!” Anger coursed through her veins—the accusation completely uncalled for. “After all we’ve been through, you’re actually going to stand there and ask me that? What the hell do you think I could’ve done, Danny?!” She took pause from the conversation. The yelling was exhausting. Her strength was dwindling. It took everything inside herself to best that hill. To come even with Danny. To make him look her in the eyes with any more baseless claims.

“Alright, look.” She threw her rifle across her back. “Gimme a sec to explain before this gets any worse than it already is.”

His face read of impatience.

“We didn’t do anything to them. Nothing. And that’s the truth.” Their eyes locked. Hers felt fragile. His were steadfast. “Those assholes are why we had to come to the Depot in the first place. They’re the reason why we had nowhere else to go. What they did…” She broke her gaze from his.

“What, Jenny?” She felt he wanted to grab hold of her and shake the words loose from inside her. “Tell me.”

Still unsure of how to phrase it, Jenny searched herself.

“If you want me to take anything you’re about to say seriously, then you gotta tell me everything. You can’t keep holding back.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m trying to be patient. I’m trying to understand what’s going on, but I need you to quit playing this back and forth shit. I need the truth, Jenny. Not your opinion. What happened? What the hell is wrong with these people? Why would Griffin be leading them here if he didn’t trust them?”

“They—” Her voice shattered, vibrating her lips into a violent quiver. “I…” The hesitation in her voice wasn’t purposeful. It took everything she had not to completely fall apart in front of Danny. “I’m sorry. I’m trying.” A tear. A gasp—a deep shudder into her lungs.

“You can tell me. You can tell me anything. You should know that.”

“If what I think is about to happen, if Griffin’s already struck a deal, then… it’s already over. The Depot’s done.”

“I still don’t—”

“The whole thing’s a sham!” she snapped. “They’re murderers. That’s their thing. That’s the whole thing. They come in with these ideas. These— Like everything they say is this amazing… I don’t know. They just fucking show up. Then everything changes. At my home before here, before the Depot, they made promises, all sorts of fucking promises for us to agree to work with them. But Matt told me Larry knew they were trouble. That he’d sent them away—”

“The name Larry means nothing to me.”

“You’re right. That doesn’t matter. I—I’m sorry, I’m just…” She swallowed before continuing, slowing her words. “The point is our leader didn’t trust them. He didn’t take the bait. He sent them away for—”

“Then how’d they take over?”

“It was later when Larry left us to try and find his wife. Then… It was like they knew he’d left, because as soon as he was gone, the Second Alliance began attacking us. But—but not like you’d think. We didn’t know it was them. They made it seem like random people, bandits, whatever you want to call it, but our council felt they had no other choice, so…” Jenny closed her eyes. “They agreed to what the S.A. wanted. We fell for it. Just like Griffin did.”

“We don’t know that he agreed to anything yet.”

“I do! Griffin wants power, and the S.A. has it. Plenty of it. They make you think you’re equals, but bit by bit they take complete control. You don’t even realize it’s happening. A few people here and there. Before you know it, everything is theirs. Even…” She choked back the tears. Danny gripped her shoulders, without a doubt realizing the sincerity in her story. “My friend—My friend found out the truth and they—they killed him. Threw him from the scaffolding with a rope around his neck.” Jenny collapsed into Danny’s arms, sobbing, letting everything go, releasing all her hidden pain from where she’d kept it locked away. Now Danny knew. The three from River’s Edge weren’t fugitives but refugees.

“It’s okay.” Danny clutched her tighter into his chest. “It’s okay. I’ll get this sorted out with Griffin. Trust me.”

Pulling her head from his chest, Jenny scoffed. “Griffin? Really? He’s gonna make it all better?” She pushed him, forcing angry, hysterical outbursts of laughter through her sobbing. “They’ve probably promised Griffin all sorts of nonsense to band together. There’s no way he’s gonna give that up. Not a chance! He’s a power-hungry asshole!”

“What’s your deal with him? Griffin’s on our side. He’s one of the good guys. Look at what he’s done for you. For Matt. For Grant. He took you guys in with open arms even with your guys’ bullshit story.”

“Open arms? Ha! Oh, Griffin, my savior!” She gasped for air between sobs. “You’re so fucking blind, Danny. You’ve never noticed how he makes me feel? How I don’t ever want to be around him?”

“I mean, maybe, but you don’t see him that much.”

“That’s how I want it. You just don’t get it. I don’t want him around me because he’s a monster. This—this monster, he raped me, Danny! Took me. Held me down. Threatened my life. Grant’s and Matt’s too if I told anyone. And that’s your friend. That’s who you trust to make it all better. But I don’t!”

Danny looked away.

“You want to know something else? This baby. It isn’t Matt’s. It’s Griffin’s.”

Danny pressed his palms into his eye sockets. “You’re too much.”

“Too much? Too much for who? You, Danny? Fuck you!” she screamed. “Fuck you!” In a rage, Jenny lunged forward and started beating on his chest uncontrollably until another round of fatigue set in. She collapsed, hands and knees into the snow, weeping. Sherman began nuzzling her face. “I can’t do this anymore,” she groaned. “I can’t keep all this bottled up. It’s too much.”

“How do I know…” He bent down, pushing Sherman away. “Do you have—” Danny stammered through his words. “any—any. Is there any proof? Any at all?”

“Of the Second Alliance, yes,” she sobbed. “With Griffin… I wanted to tell you sooner. But I couldn’t. Griffin would have…”

“I believe you. I do.” He lifted her chin. She offered a weak smile. “Please, Jenny. Show me everything you have.” His eyes were glassy. The usual tough-guy demeanor had softened. “I’m listening. Tell me everything.” Danny untied the kerchief around his neck and dabbed her tears away before helping her back to her feet. “I’m listening now.”

“I need you to believe me. I need help with Griffin.”

“I will.” Danny smiled. “We’ll sort all this out, starting with the Second Alliance. That’ll have to be dealt with first. If what you said is true—”

“It is!”

“I know, but I’ll need time to convince Griffin.”

“Griffin.” Jenny kicked at the snow.

“He’s still in charge. You know I can’t change that. And… I’m sorry if this sounds shitty, but”—He licked across his lips—“I can’t help what happened to you in the past. I’m sorry it happened, believe me, I am, and I’ll do what I can to make it better. If that’s even possible. But first we have to make sure Griffin doesn’t agree to anything with these guys. Gimme a chance to deal with that, then I’ll confront him about… about the other stuff. Deal?”

“Okay…” Not like I really have a choice.

Every step toward the Depot felt like an unprepared march toward the enemy. No plan existed. The men in black were Almawt animated in human form. A second plague among the survivors. An infection with no known cure. Underneath any facade they’d put forward, Jenny knew it wouldn’t be the truth. The truth was contained in Haverty’s letter, in Simon’s journal.

“Just a second.” Jenny reached toward the far side of her bed, feeling for the hidden slit she had sewn into the cushion. Carefully, she took Simon’s journal and the letter Haverty had written from inside. “This is what I have. What my friend found and left for us.” Danny appeared unsure as he took them from her and sat down on the metal folding chair. “You should read the letter first then the journal. It’ll make more sense that way.”

Danny nodded and set the journal on the bedside table, taking a moment to adjust Jenny’s lantern for more light. He pulled the letter from inside the envelope. Something small fell to the nylon floor of the tent. “What’s this?” He pinched it from the ground. “Some wax?”

“Look closer.”

He held it near the lantern. “What’s the ‘H’ for?”

“For Haverty. He’s the one that wrote the letter.”

“Sealing the envelope with a wax seal, huh? Who the hell is this guy?”

“For sure one of their leaders. He was put in charge of my old town when they took over. Other than that, I really don’t know much about him. I have no idea how close to the top he is, but he’s someone important. He’s the…” She swallowed hard. “He’s the one who…”

“You don’t have to say it.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She nodded and lay back on her bed, keeping her eyes on Danny while he unfolded the letter. “Typed?” he said, sounding somewhat impressed.

Patiently, Jenny looked on as he sorted through the details. Each expression that flashed across his face left little doubt to which part he was reading. She had consumed this truth several times, knowing every line, every word.

If this doesn’t convince you, I don’t know what will. All the Depot’s hard work. Everything you guys have done to put this place together will be gone. Forever changed. We have to get the S.A. out of here, then Griffin. I don’t know what you have planned for him, but whatever it is… It better be good. If not, me, Matt, and Grant are dead.

When he finished the letter, Danny folded it up and slid it back inside the envelope. Without saying anything, he bit into his bottom lip, thinking, eyes closed. Jenny wished she had the patience to let him digest all of it on his own, but her anxiety, her passion took hold of her. His opinion mattered—it would be what pushed this forward. She sat up. “It’s crazy, right?!” Her outburst broke Danny’s chain of thought. “All of it’s true,” she continued. “After I read it, all the attacks made sense, everything that followed after Larry turned the Second Alliance away made sense. That letter was just the missing piece to the puzzle.”

“It’s a lot…” He smothered his face with both hands. A muffled groan. “So, what is this?” He lifted the journal from the side table, flicking through the pages. The amount of entries seemed to overwhelm him. “You don’t think the letter’s enough? That thing’s pretty damning.”

“The journal helps give the full picture.” Jenny took it from him. Entry 664. Nearly the last one. “Here. Look. It’s about the Second Alliance. At least read that one. It’ll give you another perspective. Someone else that was attacked by them.”

“I’m not trying to be a dick, but can’t you just kinda summarize it for me?”

“Sure, yeah, that’s fine. It’s just about this guy hunting and instead of the S.A. going for the deer he shot, they went for him. Didn’t care about the meat. They chased the guy down and shot him. The journal never tells why they did. Maybe for fun. I don’t know.” She took a deep breath. “But, Danny, you have to see what’s going on. It’s a pattern. In our town, they killed another guy for just speaking out against them. And you know what they did to my friend… The Depot is next.”

“I believe you.” He examined the envelope with Haverty’s letter again. “I—I’ll have to show this to Griffin. He’ll—”

“No… Danny… You can’t show him this stuff.” Frantically, she took the envelope and journal and stuffed them away. “It’s the only proof. Written by one of their own. If he takes it, there’s no proof, and my friend’s death would be for nothing. It was the last thing Xavier did. He made sure we’d find this.”

“How’d he get it?”

“I don’t know, but the S.A. wants it or me or both. Who the hell knows? Probably, all three of us for knowing about the letter. They gotta still be looking. That night we left they sent an entire squad out for us. Tracked us for days. We were—”

“How the hell do I do this?” he interrupted her, pushing the folding chair away from him as he stood. His words began to fade into thought, his hands rubbing up and down his face. It appeared he was sorting through a plan, or at least Jenny hoped. She sat there, waiting, her ears trying to pick up on any words that might slip from his mouth.

Danny’s got to do the right thing. There’s nothing else he can do. If he truly loves this place, he has to make a stand. They can’t make the same mistake as River’s Edge. Shit, who knows how many have fallen for this before or how many people have lost their lives because of the S.A.’s lying. It’s all too—

“I’ll talk to him.” He stopped and turned to Jenny. “I’ll tell him what you said but won’t mention what you have. Okay?”

“What exactly are you going to—”

“Damn it!” He slammed his fist into his palm. “Matt and Grant… We should’ve thought of this before. They’re not safe. Gotta find them before they do.” He retrieved a knife from his web belt and placed it in her hand.

“A knife?” Her eyebrows folded inward with disbelief. “I knew we shouldn’t have checked my guns in. You know the S.A. guys probably have two guns each.”

“With only four of their men here, they won’t do anything stupid. And you know I couldn’t let you keep a gun. One of our guards sees you creeping around with one, you’ll never get a chance to find Matt and Grant. You’d have a whole ‘nother level of shit to worry about.”

“Wait, you aren’t coming with me?”

“No, Jenny. I gotta get to Griffin before they… Shit, I don’t know, make a decision on something. But you need to focus on finding your friends. I’m serious. Be careful.”

“Right…” She started the knife toward her cargo pocket, but Danny stopped her, taking it blade-side up and into the sleeve of her coat, handle within her palm.

“Like that. Hidden but accessible.”

She nodded.

“Hurry!” Go!”

With no time to think, no time to let the doubt creep in, Jenny practically ripped the zipper from the tent’s door to exit. She needed to calm herself but couldn’t. Her heart raced. Her breaths were no better. A sense of dread seeped into her gut. With how things had ended with the Second Alliance before, she already assumed her search to be worthless. That perhaps they’d already been captured, killed, whatever doomed possibility her mind could conceive. Stop it, Jenny. Try and stay positive. You have to find them. At some point, this has to turn around for us. This can’t be our life. Today it changes.

Through the dim light of the Cave, she hurried toward Matt’s tent. Please be there. She listened before crossing each aisle, took a swift eye to each tent lined up, to the nooks where enemies could be lurking. But there was nothing. No one around. Maybe it was better that way. Easier to move and with the knife stuffed into her sleeve, the last thing she needed was to be startled.

At Matt’s tent, she discovered only darkness. No shadows inside. No sound. She playfully scratched on the nylon wall and whispered, “Matt.” But no response. Just to be sure, Jenny rolled the door’s zipper enough for a peek. An empty bed. She moved on to Grant’s and found the same. The Cave was clear, not just of Matt and Grant, but everyone it seemed. Damn. Have they already started rounding everyone up? No, Danny’s right. Not with only four of them.

Pulling the tarp from the Cave’s entrance, she took a few furtive glances, keeping her body out of sight. She caught a glimpse of Danny rounding the far corner back toward the private quarters but no one else. Where is everyone? Nervous to what awaited her beyond the entryway, she squeezed the handle of the knife within her palm. “It’s there if you need it,” she whispered to herself, then crept toward the Garden Center, careful, vigilant.

Before stepping outside, she peered through the glass doors. No S.A. That’s good enough for me. She drew the door wide. The buzz of conversation swept toward her with the wind. A circle of people gathered around the burn barrel—some of them in the same seats as earlier in the day. One man stood toward the middle, as if on a swivel, addressing questions that poured in from all sides.

From afar, Jenny worked around the crowd in an attempt to spot her friends. Unfortunately, with everyone bundled up in their winter garb of muted colors, identifying anyone at all became tedious. She considered asking but thought better of it—no telling if instructions had been given to report them if seen. But so far, no one gave her a second glance. Everyone seemed to consider her presence there nothing but ordinary. Maybe someone knows something. She moved closer.

“What do you think they want?” an older woman asked in between mouthfuls of the leftover stew.

“Not a fight I hope,” another woman added.

“Why would you instantly go to that?”

“That isn’t what they want,” Lars said. “Why would Griffin bring them here if that was the case? He’s a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.”

“All’s I know is nobody’s gonna wanna tangle with that big one. Guy was huge. Too huge.”

“You’re always talking about how huge people are,” the older woman snapped. “Get over it.”

Again, the feeling of dread knotted Jenny’s stomach—her search rapidly spiraling toward failure. Without wasting another minute, she slipped away from the group and back inside the Depot. She took to the perimeter aisles. Every single one clear. Only one place left. But the thought of revisiting the storage area, the offices where Griffin laid his head, where the man had defiled her not so long ago, sickened her inside. She never wanted to be there again, but there was nowhere else to look. This is it.

She eased herself through the flimsy, double doors into the back, taking the extra time to guide them back in place. The last thing she needed was the loud thwump of them rubbing against each other to give her away. Left or right? She bent her eyes down each end of the corridor—both sides the same. Pallets of canned food, water. Boxes stacked to the ceiling, jam-packed. Barely enough space for two people to pass by each other.

She decided to go right, creeping between pallets, dipping in and out of their gaps—a game of mad dashes from one stack of boxes to the next. Then voices came from behind her. She squeezed behind one of the stacks, pressing her back to the wall. A nervous sweat began to crawl across her skin. Don’t pay any attention to me. Just go!

“So, the two are definitely coming with us?”

“That’s what Thomas said.”

“Do they have the girl here?”

“Sounds like it, but they aren’t giving her up yet.”

“Two out of three isn’t bad. Haverty can’t be mad at that, right?”

“Depends on his mood.”

Their voices passed, and the sound of the doors at the far end of the corridor—thwump, thwump—brushing against each other came and went. Matt and Grant are back here. I knew it. She inched her way into the open. All clear. Four offices on this side and three back on the other end. She peered through the window of the first two doors she came to. One was Danny’s bedroom, the other belonged to Griffin.

Thwump, thwump. The sound nearly stopped her heart. Someone was coming. Terrified, she scrambled to the next door, glancing through the window before she tried the handle. Inside, gagged and bound to chairs, were Matt and Grant. Their eyes went wide, and Matt tried to scoot his chair toward the door. Jenny grasped its handle, but it didn’t budge. “Shit!” She scanned the hall. Still clear, but the footsteps were closing in. Locking eyes with Matt’s, she mouthed, “I’ll be back with Danny,” and turned to leave.

“I wouldn’t worry about them,” a Second Alliance Guard said.

“What are you doing with them?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He strolled toward her with an awkward smile, but Jenny knew better. She backpedaled, then spun away. He forced his steps, now thundering after her. “Come here!”

A scream slipped from her mouth, and she ran toward the opposite end of the hall. “Danny!” she shouted. “Danny!” The Guard fell behind, giving her brief moments to check the remaining rooms as she passed. All empty. The last one was the main office. Within feet of the room, the door swung open, and the iron man stepped out. Jenny pounded to a stop, now cornered. The Soldier here, the Guard behind.

“Jenny, right?” The Soldier snatched her by the arm. She squirmed, trying to break free. “Relax. We’re not here to hurt you.”

“Then let me go,” she begged. “Why are you here?” She tried to keep him distracted, working to clear the blade from inside her sleeve. She spit in his face.

“You little bitch!” He reached to wipe it.

Jenny took the opportunity, plunging the knife toward his ribs, but the Soldier dropped his arm. A stiff grunt, the blade slicing across his forearm. He threw her to the ground. The blade clattered across the floor, spinning off beyond her reach. Jenny clambered for the knife, but the Guard took hold of her, pinning her to the ground. The Soldier drew back his sleeve and looked over the wound—it barely penetrated the thick uniform sleeve—leaving only a thin red line across his forearm. Barely a trickle of blood.

Casually, the Soldier plucked the knife from the floor then kneeled next to Jenny, placing the tip of the blade flat against her cheek. The iron man locked eyes with hers. “I’ve done some horrible things, but never anything to a child.” He grinned. “That could always change.”

Within an instant, the Soldier jerked her from the floor and filed her into the office.

“Danny!” She ran to him, seeking protection in his arms.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Why didn’t you help me?” She kept her voice low too.

“Couldn’t. They already—”

“No secrets, you two!” Griffin stood from where he leaned against the front of his desk. “You should have told me the truth, Jenny. All this time, I thought the three in your party were so innocent, but it seems all of you were quite the troublemakers. These fine folks”—He gestured toward the Soldier and his partner—“came a few weeks ago with some pictures of you guys. Had some pretty interesting stories of where you came from. They seem to think you’re criminals on the loose. What do you think about that? “

“Criminals?” Jenny looked to Danny, her eyes full of panic. “We’re not the criminals. They are.” She pointed to the Soldier blotting the wound on his arm with a small rag. “Didn’t you tell him, Danny?”

He said nothing.

“Danny?” she begged.

“What’s it going to be?” The Soldier gestured to the Guard, who handed Griffin an envelope affixed with a black wax seal.

“Only what we agreed. For now, you get just the two.” Griffin thumbed over his shoulder toward where Matt and Grant were being held. “The girl stays here with me until I’ve had time to look over the full proposal.” He looked to Danny. “Why don’t you go put this letter in my room and get us some food. We’ll discuss what else they’re looking for later.”

“We’ll get them back,” Danny whispered.

Jenny remained silent—the sharp glare Griffin gave Danny after seeing his lips move again was enough to convince her. All she could do was look on as Danny reluctantly took the letter and left the room.

What the hell, Danny? Jenny shrank into the corner, trying to disappear. Why are you just going along with this?

“Just the two for now?” the Soldier asked. “You sure?”

Griffin nodded. “Take that part of the deal for now, and we’ll be in touch.”

“Your buddy doesn’t seem excited about us being here.”

“Don’t worry about him. Give me a few days, and we’ll have an answer. Tell Haverty I won’t leave him waiting too long.”

The Soldier and Guard wandered out, leaving only Griffin and Jenny in the room.

“Oh, Jenny. They’ll never have you.” Griffin ambled toward the door, locking it to prevent her escape. “I have another deal involving you. It might not be as nice of a life as you’ve had here, but at least it’s living. Can’t say the same for Matt and Grant.”

“How can you do this?! You’re crazy if you think I’m doing anything you say!” Jenny grasped for the missing knife, wishing she hadn’t wasted it on such a feeble strike against the Soldier. It was now with Griffin that she truly needed it. She gritted her teeth, cursing herself for acting so soon. “Why are you doing this?” Her voice began to break.

“Don’t look so upset. You’ll finally find your place in the world.” He approached her, cornering her in the small room. “I’ll need a parting gift before you go. Something… to remember you by.” He began to unbutton her coat.

“Get off!” She forced his hand away. “No!”

“Nuh uh uh.” He wagged his finger at her then pointed to the revolver stuffed in the front pocket of his coat. “Don’t fight it, Jenny. You liked it the last time.”

His hands wouldn’t leave her. She had no choice but to fight. Not again. Never again. “Get off!” she screamed, clawing, striking him everywhere she could, but it wasn’t enough. Her coat lay in a heap. One of her shirtsleeves hung loose. Her collar stretched, ripped. Griffin grabbed hold of her shirt again and pulled, but Jenny slipped it and rushed for the door, stumbling through hurried steps. “Help!” But her pleas went unheeded. The exit seemed a mile away.

With little effort, Griffin took back control, jerking her upright by the hair, twisting it within his grip. “Now, Jenny,” he said through clenched teeth, “you aren’t playing very nice.”

“Let go!” She stomped the inside of his knee causing him to buckle only slightly.

“That’s all you got?” He swung her sideways by the hair—her body slamming into his desk with a bang. The edge caught her between the ribs, forcing a gasp for air.

“Stop! Enough!” She put her hands out in front of her. “Just stop! Please!”

He leered at Jenny, drifting toward her. “No…”—He smacked his lips—“I don’t think that would be very fun. I kinda like fighting for it. Makes it exciting.” A stiff slap sent her cowering to the floor. The harsh sting left her little choice but to raise her arm in defense, anticipating another. “Get mad!” He snatched her wrist and yanked her from the floor, screaming at her from merely an inch away, “Hate me! Come on, Jenny! Let that hate out!”

“Fuck you!” She kicked for his groin, but whiffed, instead striking his inner thigh. Futile.

“You’re pathetic…” Griffin shoved her to the ground and went to straddle her. Jenny countered with a flurry of kicks, keeping him at a distance. “That’s more like it!” Taking hold of her leg, he peeled off one boot then the other, pitching them into the corner. Her pants—the only thing preventing him now. His hands clawed at them. A sharp tug, but they wouldn’t budge. “Damn it!” He grabbed hold of her waist, slamming her body halfway onto the desk, face down and away.

Her eyes darted frantically across the desktop, searching from something, anything she could use to protect herself. Scissors! She stretched toward them, her fingertips pecking at the plastic handle. Almost! Raising onto her tiptoes… But not soon enough. Griffin lunged into the desk. A loud scrape across the floor and everything toppled from the desktop. Everything clattered to the floor. Shit…

“Let it go, Jenny.” He breathed into her ear. Her body shuddered, cringed, collapsed in on itself. “It’s okay to let some tears go. I didn’t mind it the first time.”

Don’t you cry, Jenny. If she couldn’t prevent Griffin from having his way, she’d at least steal some of his power. Take some of that satisfaction from him. His fingers crawled toward her waistline. The belt buckle loosened. She felt the tightness of her pants give way. The cold air began to envelop her entire body. Legs shaking, she squeezed her thighs together to thwart his effort. One of his hands pressed against the small of her back—his other struggled with his zipper. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying everything to leave this place, to find somewhere to hide in her mind.

Then, from behind them, a deep growl filled the room.

“Fass!” Danny shouted.

Sherman stormed into the room and latched onto Griffin’s thigh, violently jerking it back and forth, pulling him away from Jenny. Without hesitating, she stole the opportunity, scurrying off into the corner. Not the greatest position, but she couldn’t bring herself to slink past Sherman. Distracting him from Griffin was the last thing she wanted.

“Someone call him off!” he begged.

The thought never crossed her mind. Instead, a vengeful pleasure swelled inside her—to see him finally getting what he deserved—to see him struggling, pushing, prying at Sherman’s muzzle like she had done to him. Now, their fates had reversed. He was the prey, and she reveled in it—the horror descending upon him, his pain. All her time at the Depot she had been suffocating, but now, she could breathe.

Sherman’s teeth continued to gnash at the thigh, unrelenting, spurting blood through Griffin’s tattered pant leg. “Help!” Off-balance, he tried to escape, but crumpled to the floor. “Come on, Danny!” The pain in his voice rang out louder than his words. Terror in every outburst that followed.

Danny’s face showed no pity, no mercy. “Fass!”

With the command, Sherman released for only an instant then clamped down again, harder, into his calf. Never had Jenny seen something so violent. She expected Danny to call it off at some point, but he remained stoic, unflinching. Not moved by Griffin’s need for this to stop. Not moved by his pleas for help. It seemed Danny had made up his mind. Griffin was guilty, and this was the sentence.

Crack!

The gunshot startled the room, and Sherman released his bite.

“Hier!” Danny called to him.

Griffin raised the revolver from his coat pocket and toward the fleeing canine. Crack! Crack! Crack!

In a panic, Jenny dove behind the desk to avoid the sporadic gunfire, landing in the mess that had toppled over earlier. The scissors! She snatched them from the floor. I have to end this.

Crack! Crack! Click. Click.

The clicks echoed a million times louder than the shots in Jenny’s head. He’s dry!

“Shit…” Griffin cursed his misses and tried to stand, but his wounded leg was unable to bear his weight. Again, he fell to the floor, his back crashing against the desk. His head lolled from side to side, woozy from the loss of blood. “That mother…” he muttered, his voice weak, barely able to part his lips.

Jenny peered over the desk, rubbing her thumb along the scissor’s blade. Watching him, she knew he wouldn’t make it. Too much blood. Now, her decision was whether or not to walk away knowing he died or to play a part in it. It seemed simple enough with all he had done to her. All the nightmares he had given her. The constant angst that stalked her through the Depot. Can I really be the one who does it? Griffin’s head fell into the nook of his shoulder. No way. You’re not leaving until I get my last word. You’re not taking that away. Not after what you did to me!

Jenny came from behind the desk with only one thing on her mind. The rest of the room didn’t matter. Nothing did. Except this. She crouched down in front of him and lifted his head, staring into his eyes, watching him fade from this world. Click. Click. His finger still pulled at the revolver’s trigger. Jenny grabbed hold of the gun, ripped it from his failing grip then released the cylinder—all the spent brass pinging against the floor.

“What you did to me…” She clenched her jaw. “You…” An exhale, second guessing what she was about to do. “You know what… it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re already dead, not worth it. Fuck you.”

“I…” Griffin’s eyes fluttered, struggling to find hers despite them being right in front of his face “I… already did.” His lips bent into a crooked smile.

“You…” Jenny shook her head in disgust. Any chance of her walking away passed with his arrogant remark. It crossed the line, flooding her body with anger. Even on the verge of death, he offered no regret for what he had done to her. No repentance. His death was justified, and Jenny was now more than willing to assist.

Gazing into his dimming eyes, her breaths sped forth. Her hands shook, clutching the scissors. You deserve this. One last inhale—she held it in then plunged the tip of the scissors into Griffin’s throat, driving it as deeply as she could, twisting it the whole way through. A rasping groan. His body shuddered, but the wound barely bled—the crimson pool he sat within left little doubt why. She stood, considered pulling the scissors out, but decided against it. When the others found him, this is how he deserved to be. A coward who died screaming for help. Slumped against a desk. His clothing torn, blood soaked. Scissors jutting from his neck.

An unsettling silence shook her as she turned from Griffin. Apprehensive, her eyes gathered the room, trying to reassess the situation. Where’s— Her gut tightened. “Danny!” His boots lay just inside the door. His body out of view. Rushing over, she rounded the corner into the hallway. He lay there motionless, face down, pistol in hand while Sherman circled his body, whining, nudging him with his muzzle.

She knelt at his side. “Danny…” she whispered. He didn’t move. She took hold of his coat and tugged, then shook him, then more and more, harder and harder. “Come on…” Her voice broke into sobs and gasps. It couldn’t be helped. “No, no, no. Danny. No.” She tried to swallow her cries, to keep them down, but they continued to surface. “This isn’t right… It can’t be how—” Sherman pushed at his head again. “I’m sorry, boy. You might not want to see this.” Sobbing, she eased Danny’s head to the side, hoping it wasn’t true.

Only a vacant stare. Lines of blood from mouth and nose. From a wound just below his right eye. She ran her shaking hand over his eyelids. They accepted the darkness. Never to see the light again. “Why…?” Fucking Griffin. She shuddered from the cold, from her emotions. Everything in this moment. “Damn it, Danny…” Jenny stood for only a moment before panic struck her again.

Matt and Grant…

It wasn’t over. Not even close. Her head was spinning—too much happening at once. I know it’s not right to leave you, but… She bit into her lip. You know if I didn’t leave now, you’d be yelling at me. You’d be telling me not to waste any time. Well, you’re right. I have to go. Jenny steeled herself against the loss of Danny. Mourning would have to come later. She wiped the tears along her bare arm. It’s time.

Jenny undid the holster from his leg and fitted it around her own. Next, she took the Smith & Wesson from his hand, mindful to peel his finger away from the trigger. Fully loaded and ready to go, she reholstered the weapon. Alright… A moment of hesitation. What she was about to do was distressing, uncomfortable. His body was limp. Moving him felt wrong, but necessary. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this without your help. She eased into his pockets, respectfully searching for anything else she might need. Only his keyring and Sherman’s lead seemed useful. This isn’t good-bye. I’ll be back. I promise.

A strange gurgling noise came from inside the office behind her.

What now? Taking a deep breath, she took the pistol from its holster and brought it eye level. She positioned herself near the door jamb. Ready but nervous, only now did she remember the revolver she left lying at his feet. Take it slow. The muzzle wavered slightly while she cleared the room in sections. His body came into view—still slouched against the desk in his own filth. She took cautious steps toward him to retrieve the gun, cursing herself for leaving the damn thing, but when she had seen Danny, her concern for him had gotten the better of her judgment.

Nearing him, her stomach writhed—the smell of gunpowder—the smell of iron from his blood. With her pistol aimed squarely at his chest, she fished for the revolver with her foot. There we go! She slid it away, stepping backwards with her muzzle steady on him. Quickly, she scooped it from the floor along with her shirt, coat, and boots. She dressed, eyeballing Griffin the entire time. Is he dead yet? She needed to be sure. Before leaving, Jenny dared a touch on the side of his neck—his skin cold with a sickly pallor. No pulse. Dead. Gone, but it didn’t make up for Danny. Closure would come later. Now, she had to focus on getting her friends back.

“Hier!” With haste, she and Sherman tore through the back corridor to the office where she’d seen Matt and Grant earlier. There’s probably not much time left. At some point, someone would be there to investigate the gunfire. The rooftop guards had to have heard it. Perhaps, the crowd outside by the burn barrel hadn’t. That must have been the holdup—not that she was complaining. Jenny needed the delay.

If found, the Depot guards might hold her, question her. It wasn’t like she could say she hadn’t seen anything. With blood on her pants. Danny’s gun. Sherman. She’d be interrogated for hours—their interest fixated on what happened—the loss of two leaders. Matt and Grant would shift to the back burner. It was best no one saw her. The Second Alliance would only get further and further away. Her friends disappearing with them.

Damn… The door to the room stood open. No one inside. The chairs overturned, but the ropes and gags gone, more than likely still binding them, keeping them from calling for help. They had to sneak out the back with them. There’s no way they’d just walk out the front with Grant and Matt tied up or whatever. People would wonder what the hell was going on. She eyed both ends of the corridor. But which way did they go? Probably not that way. Danny’s room was only a few feet away. That fact gave her pause. Wait, why…? She searched herself, trying to deny dangerous thoughts before they soiled Danny’s reputation. But she couldn’t think beyond them. Danny… Why didn’t you stop them? When Griffin sent you here with that letter, you could’ve freed them. Don’t you have a key to that room? What the hell…? “Now they’re gone,” she said under her breath.

No… There’s no way Danny would’ve just let them be taken without a fight. There has to be a reason why. But what? She began toward his room. He knew what was about to happen with the S.A. He told me to find them. It’s the last thing he asked me to do. He gave me a frickin’ knife because he knew the risk. Danny’s door sat open slightly. She creaked it further in, then shut it behind her, turning the lock. Okay… Beside her, two rifles, a pistol, and an array of knives lay out on his bed. A box of ammunition spilled across the floor. Must’ve been in a hurry to leave his—” She exhaled. Her shoulders sank. “That’s why… He heard me scream. All these weapons right here. He was planning on fighting back, but he heard me. And, he stopped. He let the S.A. get away, so he could help me, hoping he could save them later. But, obviously that can’t happen now. It’s on me. I’ve gotta do it.

Jenny pitched Danny’s rucksack onto the bed and began stuffing it. Ammunition. A few knives. One of the pistols. His flashlight and fire kit. Bottles of water. Cans of food. (Some for Sherman.) This might only be a day or two. Taking too much would only slow her down, and the houses along the way could still provide her with the basics if she found herself in need. She threw on Danny’s harness strap with binocular case and popped it open—binocs inside—now extremely accessible from around her torso. Almost ready. Her choice of rifles from the bed didn’t include her familiar M1A Scout. Instead, she took Danny’s favorite, his M4 carbine.

Finally it came, what she had been expecting since the gunshots rang out—the heavy clopping of boots down the hall. Here we go… She dropped to the ground, her back against the door, curling up as closely to it as she could to prevent anyone’s quick peek through the window from seeing her.

The footfalls slowed to a stop just outside the door.

“It’s got to be back here.” A man said, speaking as if he were in charge of the patrol.

“Who was shooting?”

“Not sure, but I know it has something to do with that group in black,” a woman spoke up. “Who else? Shit like this doesn’t happen, but then all of a sudden they show up. Come on, man, put it together.”

“Alright, quiet down you two. Keep your damn eyes peeled. Let’s go.”

Jenny listened for the sound of the patrol’s footsteps to disappear. Once they did, she inched the door open. Just a peek. No one to either side. Time to move. She hoisted the rucksack onto her back and brought the rifle’s sling over her head. A quick once over. Everything in place. Everything loaded. She crept a foot forward into the hallway. A scream. Jenny grimaced. They found them…

“High alert!” the man’s voice thundered down the hall. “Get the message to the roof!” Boots pounded back her way, and his orders echoed along with them. “If they see any of the men in black, shoot first! No questions!”

They think the S.A. did this. That couldn’t be any better. “We gotta go, boy.” She attached Sherman’s lead, and without a second to spare, they curled right, beelining straight for the exit to the loading docks. Not certain she’d be alone out there, she drew the pistol from the holster. A deep breath, then she elbowed the push bar to the door and slipped through, gun up and ready, Sherman at her side.

Outside, Jenny winced in the direct sunlight. Damn! Struggling to see across her pistol sights, she shifted her angle, but Sherman took advantage of her adjustment and broke left from the door. “Platz.” His tugging at the lead ceased. She took her pistol across the loading dock, keeping the large, metal door against her back to guard her six. From where she stood, a distinct line of footprints made across the landing, down the stairs, and then up the ramp toward the woods. I wonder how far the S.A. has gotten.

She flashed her pistol behind the door—only a few feet of landing before a dead end into the wall—then eased the heavy door back into place. Listening, she took a moment to ensure there’d be no surprises coming at her through the door. The patrol that had discovered the bodies were still tearing down the long hallway, yelling. Jenny and Sherman withdrew into the dead end of the landing, hoping that if the patrol opened the door to warn the guards on the roof, it would be a simple shout and nothing more. Luckily for her, the patrol continued down the corridor past her position.

The landing’s metal grating clanked beneath her feet as she walked. Nervous she’d alert one of the guards on the roof, she slowed her steps, heel to toe, lightly crunching through what snow hadn’t fallen to the ground. About halfway across the landing, they came to a flight of stairs. Two lines of footprints split from the bottom—one out into the open toward the woods—the other hidden between a couple of semi-trailers.

At the bottom of the stairs, Sherman buried his nose into the snow, his interest leading them along the tracks sneaking in between the trailers. Jenny studied the footprints, only three sets counted in this line—all the same tread design, just different sizes. Matt and Grant aren’t here. Have to be in that other group. If not… then I don’t know what the hell is going on. She knelt, glancing underneath the trailer. Sherman whined, and Jenny whipped the pistol toward the semi’s cab, but nothing there. The sudden shift caused her heart to beat even faster. “Damn it, Sherman. What do you know?” He sat near the wall of the trailer and looked back toward her, his eyes knew something. “Seek!”

The canine scrambled underneath the trailer, the lead flapping in the snow behind him, let loose from Jenny’s grip. She dropped the pistol into its holster and took to the rifle. Backtracking toward the stairs and round the semi’s back end, she posted at the corner of the trailer. One peek, then a second. She broke out into the open, rifle fixed toward the top of the ramp. Sherman found something—small and black in the snow. “Matt’s glove. Good, boy!” She tousled his fur and scooped the glove into her cargo pocket. “So, this is definitely the way they went.”

“Jenny!”

Jolted from the outburst, she spun the rifle, searching for where the voice had come from. The rooftop—Derrick, one of their own.

“Where’d all those shots come from?” he asked.

She put a finger over her lips—“Keep it down”—and hurried over to where he stood above her. “Just…” What the hell do I say? “It’s—it’s a long story. Don’t have time to explain. I need to—”

“Are you okay?” From his tone, she knew he had seen the blood.

She stared blankly, saying nothing, still unsure on what to share, if anything.

“Seriously, what the hell’s goin’ on?” Derrick’s voice more urgent now. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Did you see who made these tracks back here?”

He shook his head. “No, they weren’t there before. Only two of us up here right now. Let me ask the other—”

“No, it’s fine.” She glanced back toward the ramp. “You see anyone in the woods? Can you see that far?”

“No one’s there. Just those prints leadin’ up through that way.” He flipped his binoculars to double-check. “Yeah, nothing.”

“Thanks!” She jogged back to Sherman and took hold of his lead.

“Jenny,” he called to her again, “really, what’s going on?”

“Stay up there, you see any one of those guys dressed in black come through here, don’t ask any questions, just shoot them dead.”

“I can’t do that without orders from Griffin.”

“Griffin’s…” Jenny started. “The order’s coming.” She tugged at Sherman’s lead, and they rushed for the woods.

“Jenny!” he shouted. “What’s that mean? What happened?”

The Second Alliance’s tracks led back through the training grounds—the same direction they’d come through earlier with Griffin. No effort was taken on their part to hide it. Every bootprint accounted for. No trickery. A straight-forward march to wherever it was they were going. “Aren’t being very careful are they, boy?” She patted Sherman’s side. “They were probably long gone by the time shit went bad and have no idea their plan’s essentially dead.”

Jenny took her binoculars from inside the pouch and glassed across the ridge looming before them—nothing in the distance except the gray sky bleeding through bare branches. “We’ll pick their track up in a bit.” She leaned the rifle against a downed tree protruding from the snow and slipped the rucksack from her shoulders. With her boot, she cleared some snow from the ground to sit next to her long gun, remembering to always have it ready at hand.

“What do you think, boy?” She scratched along his back, up to his head, which now lay in her lap. He looked up at her, eyes heavy. “I know…” Her voice wavered. “You’d think it’d get easier.” The tears swelled inside, wanting nothing more than to break loose, to glide down the features of her face to show the world her loss. That she was hurting again. Another friend gone. Another death that didn’t have to be. She choked it back down and forced a smile. “Here,”—she leaned over and unclipped the flap to the ruck—“let’s take your mind off this. You hungry?” Sherman perked up at the can of dog food dangling in front of him. “At least you still have your appetite.”

He nudged against the can, his tongue hanging with anticipation. Jenny opened the can and flipped it, letting the meat slurry plop into the snow. She wretched at its smell. “Not the greatest is it?” She couldn’t bear to watch him tear into it. Instead, she raised the binoculars toward the ridge once more. “They can’t be too far yet, right?” Her eyes pursued the trail of footprints running up the face of the ridge until they disappeared. “This is going to be a piece of cake for you.” He looked to her, satisfied—the food gone from the snow. “What do you think?”

He cocked his head sideways.

“I know you know more than just German,” she forced a chuckle that went nowhere with her canine companion. “You’re gonna need to start talking back at some point.”

Sherman brought his head back into her lap, and Jenny traced her fingers through his fur. Calming. She took the moment to decompress, leaning her head back against the tree behind them. Through the branches, she lost herself in the sky. A good long gaze.

The S.A. owes me for everything. For Danny. For Xavier. Sam. Anyone else they’ve taken from the world that didn’t deserve it. I know finding them isn’t going to be the problem. Sherman’s too good. But it’s what to do once we get there. I have to be smarter than them, patient. Wait for a mistake. It isn’t impossible. Only four of them. One’s a Soldier, though. Shit… Maybe I should’ve gotten some others to help. But who the hell knows who was in on it? Maybe all the higher ups knew about the plan for Matt and Grant. Better to work alone. At least I know where my loyalties lie.

Jenny tousled Sherman’s head. “It’s me and you, boy. That’s it.”

Smoke billowed from a chimney—the fireplace providing warmth and refuge from the cold outside. Jealous, but not stupid enough to follow suit, Jenny shivered in a vacant house across the street, surveilling the porch where two Second Alliance Guards stood watch. How the hell’s the S.A. made it this far? That’s basic stuff right there. Don’t give your position away. “Right, boy?” she whispered, turning her attention from the window. She heard the bed’s comforter rustle but couldn’t make out much more than that in the shadowy upstairs bedroom. All she knew was he’d claimed the bed already and lay somewhere sprawled out across it. “Rest up. You’ve earned it.”

At the window, she sat wrapped in a blanket she’d found in one of the back room closets and considered grabbing another one. The single blanket proved insufficient with every gust of wind sneaking through the slightly opened window. Unfortunately, closing it wasn’t an option. During the Guards’ first shift change, she took her first and only attempt. It squeaked something fierce, then refused to budge any further. Luckily, anyone who could’ve heard her mistake was inside at the time and unable to. Now, the only sound coming from her position was the gentle clacking of the blinds against the wooden frame.

Diligently, she studied their movements, their habits, trying to establish a pattern, but more importantly, a true count of Second Alliance personnel standing in her way. But even with the burning fireplace helping to illuminate the muted figures passing by the front window, Jenny’s confidence in her mental tally was weak—each of them in uniform—all fairly the same build.

She sighed. So, maybe three in the front room, well, if those are even the same people every time. I know Matt and Grant are there too, but I really doubt they’re up walking around. They’re probably stuffed in a back room or something with another S.A. Guard watching them. So… let’s assume four inside. And with the two on the porch, maybe six of them total? I don’t know. There still might be others. Once that sun goes down, I’ll be free to move around a lot easier and hopefully get a better count. For now though, I keep watching, gather as much info as I can.

After another hour of surveillance, the shadows began to lay long across the snow. The black uniforms of the Guards holding post across the street began to blend in with the nightfall. She placed her chair closer and rested her chin on the windowsill between two empty cans from a meal eaten earlier.

Little else happened. Another shift change passed—the extent of the action. Her eyes grew heavy with boredom, with watching nothing.

Jenny watched the others, one by one, duck through the lower partition of a shattered glass door into the McDonald’s sitting cater-corner to the Depot. Each step through, each crunch of the glass shards beneath their boots gave Jenny pause. She blocked the entrance from Sherman—“Platz!”—then began scraping the fragments away with her foot. After inspecting the floor to ensure the glass wouldn’t find its way into Sherman’s paws, she called him through, “Hier.”

“He listens really well,” Xavier said, the remark sounding more like a peace offering than an actual statement.

“Yeah.” Jenny nodded, twitching her lips into a hasty smile. “Just take watch here. Matt, take the far door.”

Xavier took post with his rifle at the broken door’s entrance, and Matt moved into position on the far side with the pistol Jenny had given him earlier.

“From in here, we’ll need to make sure the Depot’s still good. If somehow the S.A. got here before us, we’re not gonna want to walk into what’s about to happen.”

“And what’s that?” Grant eyed her.

Damn it… Hastily, Jenny unclipped her canine from the lead, and the two of them fled Grant’s suspicion into the back portion of the restaurant.

They rounded the front counter, Sherman sniffing, pacing around the kitchen, past the abandoned deep fryers, grills, stainless steel counters. Mouse droppings everywhere. Filthy. The back door was locked, and she left it that way. Across from it, an open door—the last thing to check. The manager’s office appeared ransacked. Papers strewn about. A safe broken into. Empty. She backed out, then turning around, stepped right into Grant’s chest.

“Spill it, girlie.” His jaw tense, eyes blazing. “Now.”

“What?” Jenny knew damn well what he meant.

“Two things. What’s the S.A. ‘bout to run into, and why you got Sherman?”

“Not so loud,” Jenny tried, but Matt had already heard—he stood leaning over the front counter. They both stared at her, unblinking. Her eyes went to the ceiling, deciding how to break the news swirling in her mind, but more than anything, she wished to ignore them and focus on what needed to be done rather than all the hurt. Do I just say it? A lump in her throat began to choke her. The truth swelling. She tried to swallow it again but couldn’t. The sorrow on her face forced her friends to hang their heads.

“Jenny…?” Matt asked, starting toward the kitchen, toward her.

“Danny died.” Both words spilled out while Jenny struggled to steel herself against the emotion building inside. Grant said nothing. Matt’s lips curled inward. She brushed past both of them and into the dining area. Their faces would do nothing but soften her.

“How did it happen?” Grant’s voice remained strong as he followed closely behind.

“Griffin too.”

“Griffin and Danny? What the hell happened?”

“The S.A. took you guys away, then…” She paused and shimmied her way into a booth before wiping the condensation from the window with her sleeve. Still refusing to make eye contact with anyone, Jenny quickly brought the binoculars up.

“Jenny, please…” Matt sat in an adjacent booth and rested his hand on her back. “I don’t understand.”

“Who attacked us?” Grant asked. “The S.A. was gone.”

“Griffin—” Lowering the binoculars, Jenny offered a shaky glance back toward them. “It’s fine,” she lied. “All that matters is that Danny and Sherman saved me.” The canine perked up at the mention of his name. “You’re good, boy.” Her chest trembled through a short chuckle.

“What about Griffin? Did he do something?”

“Matt…” she started but couldn’t bring the truth forward. “We just have to move on. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“The fuck if it doesn’t.” Scrambling to get to his feet, Matt banged his thighs against the booth’s table, knocking a napkin dispenser onto the floor. “What did he do, Jenny? I always noticed how you act around him. Never really talk about him. He did something, didn’t he? What was it?”

Xavier sent a few glances their way, but wisely remained at his post.

“You gotta tell me, Jenny.” He slapped his palms down on her tabletop.

“Settle down, Matty.” Grant took hold of his shoulders, trying to pull him away from the table.

What do I say…? If I tell him the truth, he’d never forgive me for hiding it from him, right? And the baby… What if he rejects it? Or me? I can’t risk it. I can’t let him know. “Griffin…” She searched for a reason. Something that would stick. “He—he gave you guys to the S.A., right, but he—” Jenny struggled to keep her voice steady through the lie. Most of this isn’t a lie. Just blurt it out. “Griffin was giving me away. Like a slave or something. I don’t know, but Danny found out, and they fought.” She calmed her words. “Sherman got a hold of Griffin, and he took out a pistol. Just started shooting and Danny got hit. He—”

“You ain’t gotta finish, girlie. We know…”

Grant eased Matt into one of the seats and sat down opposite him at the table. Neither said anything more, burying themselves in thought, in silence. Jenny turned her attention back to the Depot. They need some time…

Through her binoculars, she scanned across the parking lot, past the several-hundred-or-so vehicles placed in a deliberate pattern to slow the approach of unwanted guests. Her view was limited, but up to this point, still no sign of the Second Alliance along the ground. So far, so good. She focused atop the roofline. What the…? Defenses were bolstered—guards riddled the rooftop with rifles drawn toward the middle of the parking lot.

“One thing I don’t under—” Matt started, but Jenny shushed him.

She danced the lenses through the lot, between the cars. The guards’ immediate focus

failed to become apparent. “Lots of guards on the roof focused on something, but I can’t tell what.”

“What they got?” Grant asked, shooting up from his chair and toward her.

“I said I can’t tell right now.” Frustrated, she scanned once more before moving to a different booth to see if it would help. It didn’t. “Damn it…”

“You think it’s the S.A.?” Xavier asked from across the room.

“Naw, don’t think so.” Grant snapped his attention away from the window and over to Xavier. “There was some kinda agreement, or else they wouldn’t’ve taken us away in the first place. No way our guys would be pointin’ guns on them if that was the case.”

“Maybe… What if I went out there? I could scout it out.” Xavier walked away from his post. “At least if they see me, they won’t do anything. I can just say you guys let me go or something.”

“But what if it’s not them? And whoever it is does do something?” Jenny fired back, her eyes still scanning the parking lot through the binoculars. “Even if it is them, it won’t work anyways. The S.A. wouldn’t be able to get close to the Depot like that, it’d be over by now.”

“You gonna tell me why that is now?” Grant asked. “They seemed cozied up pretty good together yesterday.”

“So, about that.” She lowered the binoculars, turned, and allowed her companions to observe the smirk stretching across her face. “The Depot thinks the S.A. were the ones that killed Danny and Griffin. I didn’t see a point in correcting them. Figured it’d be best to let them take the fall for it.”

“Sounds good to me.” Matt stood from his seat, moving toward the window to observe. He gestured for the binoculars.

Jenny obliged but kept her attention on whatever standstill existed in the lot. “The S.A. needs more enemies. So, when Derrick caught me leaving out the backdoor with Sherman. I… I may have mentioned something about the S.A. Didn’t really have time to explain, and it just seemed like the right thing to do.”

A hand gripped her shoulder from behind. “At least you found a way to make us smile,” Grant said. “At least somethin’ good came out of this. I think you’ve done great, girlie, come a long way for sure. Knowin’ what you did all by yourself, I ain’t never been so proud of somebody before. Danny’s lookin’ down on you right now, prouder than ever on what you can do.”

Jenny slid away from the window. “I know.”

“He trained you well. Looks good on you.” He flopped back in his seat. “You’re a leader. How you handle that dog. How you came and got us. You’re meant for this.”

“Meant for what?”

“Stoppin’ the Second Alliance.” Grant stiffened upright in the chair, his voice eager. “Givin’ them what they deserve. They gonna keep comin’. Now, especially. We gotta let the Depot know that. When you walk over there and we’re with you, and you’re tellin’ them what happened, how you got the best of them, they’re not gonna have a choice but believe in you. I’m not sayin’ it’ll be easy or that you’ll be leadin’ some big army, but it’ll inspire them. Get them fired up to make sure what happened to River’s Edge doesn’t happen here.”

Jenny nodded. “Then we warn them. Tell the Depot what’s coming. Xavier,”—he looked to her—“I appreciate you volunteering, but… if you walk out there in that uniform, you’re guaranteed to be shot.” She let a long breath escape her. “I guess I couldn’t blame you if you had second thoughts about sticking with us. Going against your parents would be tough.”

“It’s not about going against my parents. They aren’t out there fighting, they don’t even know what’s going on. Someday I’ll show my mom and dad the truth. Then they’ll know the S.A. isn’t for us. It never has been.”

“Yeah, I hope they do figure it out…” Her voice trailed off, her thoughts moving on, trying to piece together some kind of plan. Xavier’s definitely out. Sherman too. Grant… He’d be better off staying behind. She sighed. “So, I’m thinking it has to be just me and Matt going out. Anyone else will be too big of a risk.”

The binoculars dipped from Matt’s gaze. He faced Jenny, but said nothing, a look of doubt greeted her.

“You don’t even know what’s out there…” Grant pointed out the obvious.

“The fact no shots have been fired is a good thing. I’m pretty sure we’ll be able to get the guards’ attention before getting too close. It’ll be fine.” I hope… Jenny stripped her sock hat and kerchief away. “Grant, can you stay here with Xavier and Sherman? I know it’s probably not what you want, but it’s what we need. If for some reason we don’t make it—”

“Don’t say that.”

“Just hear me out.”

Grant nodded.

“Someone will need to vouch for Xavier if the Depot finds you guys. And…” Jenny exhaled, her voice became downhearted. “…if the S.A. for some reason makes it here or whatever, then Xavier can act like he took you prisoner or something. The step beyond that… I don’t know.”

“Well, if I’m staying put,” Xavier said, “then take this.” He offered his Steyr AUG rifle over to Matt. “Here.”

Matt passed the binoculars back to Jenny and shimmied his way from the booth. He took an awkward once-over of Xavier’s rifle, clearly not familiar with some of its features. “I… This thing looks… kinda weird.”

They all work basically the same way, Matt. Come on…

“Here, let me show you.” Xavier motioned for Matt to follow him to the other side of the dining area with the jerk of his head. Jenny set her long gun across the tabletop—double-checking a firearm was never a bad idea, especially when surrounded by increasing unknowns.

While working her M4 carbine, she couldn’t help but eavesdrop on Xavier’s instruction. He had obviously been through extensive training since joining the Second Alliance. His confidence. His newfound expertise. Wonder if he forgot all his maintenance training to make way for all that knowledge. Easing the charging handle back, she confirmed a round sat in the rifle’s chamber. Then, she checked the magazine. Filled to the top. The steel selector switch dimpled her thumb, pushing ‘Safe’ to ‘Semi.’ Once satisfied with her firearm, she hung it over her shoulder and moved toward Matt and Xavier.

Jenny observed Matt’s tentative handling of the Steyr rifle. His expression muted, he listened to every word Xavier shared. Jenny offered nothing. Didn’t need to. Xavier had it covered. If his loyalties still lie with us— If… Stop second guessing him. Grant’s right. It is Xavier. He’s with us again. I can’t keep blaming him for what happened. He didn’t really have a choice, right? Besides, with that training, he’s an asset—his story, his experience will help convince the Depot of what’s coming. He’s still one of us. You gotta quit doubting him.

“Oh, it’s just like… I see.” Matt chuckled, his face taking on a comfortable glow of familiarity which helped allay Jenny’s reservations upon seeing his initial contact with the rifle. “It’s really no different than the others I’ve used. Just never seen a rifle like this or a built-in scope like that.” He studied it for a few seconds. “Where do you adjust it?”

“Don’t think you can. Or, at least I wasn’t shown how. If you don’t like the scope, there are iron sights across the top there. Personally, I like it, but I’ve been training with it for awhile.”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Matt knelt. Lodging the rifle into his shoulder, he aimed it through the broken glass door, steadying it on something in the distance. “Pretty amazing.”

“It’s a pretty versatile rifle. My trainer—”

“What trainer?” Jenny asked.

“I’m in training to be a scout for the S.A.”

“You were in training,” Jenny mocked him.

“You know what I mean.”

“I know.” She smiled, and he returned the same.

“Glad you kiddos are gettin’ along now, but we need to get this show on the road. No tellin’ when the S.A.’s gonna catch up. They had to know we was comin’ here. Had to.” He looked to Jenny. “So, what you got for us, girlie?”

She’d never seen it before, but Grant sought something from her. Direction. Advice. Leadership. Finally, here it was, lining his eyes, and she felt it—being taken seriously—being treated as an equal. Not being a fighter, Grant saw in her what he never could be. Someone to lead the offensive. Someone to take back control of their fate. Doubt escaped her. She could do this.

Jenny took another cursory scan of the parking lot. Nothing different. “Let’s go, you guys.” She led Xavier, Grant, and Sherman to the manager’s office in the back. “Hang tight here, and we’ll be back soon.” Jenny handed Sherman’s lead to Grant and motioned for Matt to give up the pistol and leg holster he’d been carrying since their rescue.

Xavier looked it over. “This was Danny’s?”

Matt offered a solemn nod. “Be good to it.”

Matt and Jenny made their way back outside through the busted-out door, rifles drawn, scanning toward the back side of the restaurant. A sharp wind burst across their bodies. Matt started to raise his kerchief back up and over his mouth and nose. “Can’t,” Jenny said, “they have to recognize us from the roof.” She pulled her hair out from the back of her coat, letting it rest upon her shoulders. “We need to make it obvious that it’s us or this will never work.”

“I know… I just—” The zipper on his coat shook—his body already trembling from the wind. Jenny felt it too, although not to that point. “I swear I can feel icicles forming from the end of my nose it’s so damn cold.”

“You nervous?” she asked.

Matt broke eye contact, glancing toward the ground for a split second. His tell. How she knew when the next words would be a lie. Before he could offer the fib, she raised onto her toes and kissed him. Passionate. Deep. He pulled her in. The clack of their rifles, unnoticed. The wind stilled. The cold gone. Heat between them. They pulled away, both smiling with eyes wide.

“I lov—”

She put her gloved finger over his lips. “Don’t. That’s not good-bye just foreplay.” Jenny offered a coy smile.

“I do, though.” Matt wouldn’t break eye contact.

“I know you do.” She took a step toward the rear parking lot, but Matt grabbed hold of her rucksack.

“That’s it?” His lips bent into a disappointed frown. “All you’re going to say about it?”

“Do I really have to say the words?”

“It’d be nice.”

“You’re acting like this is the end, Matt. All we have to do is walk over, let them see us, and we’re in.”

“What if it’s not that easy…” His eyes read nervous.

“It will be that easy. At some point, shit has to turn around for us. Everything has happened for a reason. We can’t let it all be for nothing.” Slightly agitated, Jenny broke from the conversation, raised her rifle level—the muzzle leading her past the drive-through and into the back side of the McDonald’s parking lot.

They crouched behind a vehicle, and Jenny flipped the binoculars to her eyes. “We’ll have to take the approach wide.” Each rifle visible along the Depot’s roofline remained tilted toward whatever it was in the parking lot below them. “Going in at this angle will be too dangerous unless you’re seeing something I’m not.” Jenny handed the binoculars over to Matt to get him involved, to get his head right.

Expelling a deep breath, he glassed over the Depot. “I swear if it weren’t for all those damn trucks, we’d be able to tell who it was from here.” He took a moment before continuing, “You’re definitely right about a wide approach. We’ll probably need to take it from that side, maybe from over there.” Matt indicated the eastern half of the Depot’s parking lot, but then flashed the binoculars along the back side of the car wash and the strip mall to their immediate right, opposite the target area. “I think if we slide back that way, we should have the angle to see whoever’s standing out there.” He returned the binoculars. “What do you think?”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

They stole for the first car wash bay nearest them and past the remaining five, beating the snow into slush with the soles of their boots. Continuing in this manner, racing in and out of cover behind the strip mall, they finally emerged on the far side, slipping behind a row of yew bushes—barely a breath between them.

“Almost there,” Jenny huffed. “Here, I’m gonna—I’m gonna take a look real quick. Take the ruck so I can get through here.”

Matt hoisted the rucksack onto his back as Jenny dropped into a prone position and wriggled beneath the shrubs. “What do you see?” he whispered.

Jenny ignored him. Shit… A group of men, not Second Alliance, stood in formation within the maze of abandoned cars. Two facing the Depot with rifles angled toward the ground. Three others behind them holding the same, but toward their rear. The last of the men remained in the middle, handling the unknown conversation with the Depot. Who are these guys? No uniform, just coats, blue jeans, bags strapped across their back. Dressed like anyone else. Nothing to indicate who or what they represented. Never seen anyone come at the Depot like this before. What the hell could they want? Who the…? Then, she knew. Her heart sank with worry. Griffin’s people. They came here for me. Shit! The Second Alliance and now, these guys. She retreated back through the bush.

“Well?” Matt’s voice impatient.

“More trouble,” she said before squatting down.

Matt dropped too. “Who?”

“Not sure exactly, but I think it’s the people Griffin planned on giving me to.” Jenny began drawing in the snow, mapping out the lot, the cars, the men. “That’s the only thing I can think of right now.”

“What the hell do we do?” Matt waddled backwards to give Jenny more room to continue her sketch. “What if the Depot hands you over?”

“No, I don’t think so. By the looks of it, I don’t think the Depot knows anything about that deal.”

“Why?”

“Cause they’re holding those people at gunpoint. Not letting them move a muscle out there. It’s like a standoff. Can’t you hear them? They’re just shouting back and forth.”

“Well, what the hell are they saying?”

“I don’t know.” Irritated, she swiped across the drawing. “It doesn’t fucking matter right now!”

“Of course it matters!”

“Look…” Jenny lifted Matt’s chin away from the ground. “I trust the Depot now. They’re being careful, especially now with what happened to Danny and Griffin.”

“They probably think the S.A. took us, because we’re outlaws or something.”

“The Depot doesn’t know why they took you. I’m pretty sure nobody saw them head out with you guys. They think the S.A. killed Danny and Griffin. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mine. I’m sure they’ve noticed you guys missing but have no idea why the S.A. decided to run off with you.”

“We’ll just tell them they took us,” Matt said.

“Exactly. No big deal.”

“Alright, let’s go then.” He stood to leave, but Jenny snatched the sleeve of his coat.

“I’m first. To them, you might look like just another guy with a rifle. I’m one of eleven women in the camp. The guys will definitely recognize me.”

Matt conceded but glared at her.

“It’s true…” she pressed him.

“I know it is,” he grumbled.

Jenny nodded to him with a weak smile, knowing the jealousy hidden in his voice. Alright… Again, she swept her hair free from inside her coat. Can’t afford not to be recognized. Sherman would have been a dead giveaway, but he’d be no use in an all-out firefight. Can’t afford to lose him. I hope this is the right thing to do. Breathing out, she looked to the sky. Danny… get me through this.

“You good?” Matt asked.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I’m thinking we head left to cut off the other group’s view of us before moving across the street.”

The two of them cut through the bushes and along the shop fronts of the strip mall before crossing the six-lane road toward the Depot’s parking lot. Continuing to their left, they managed to remain out of view from the group of outsiders with the assistance of some opportune vehicles.

“Depot’s still not seeing us.” Matt forced the whisper through clenched teeth, clearly upset the plan hadn’t worked now that they were standing well within the parking lot.

“They will. Just—”

“Like I said, we just need to see Griffin!” one of the outsiders shouted.

“Already told you he ain’t comin’ out!” An unknown voice responded from atop the Depot’s roofline. “Says he don’t know who you are. Says you need to identify yourself first.”

“Tell his bitchass to get out here. He missed our damn appointment and forced us to come all this way.”

No reply from the Depot.

Jenny and Matt trudged deeper into the parking lot, careful not to cross into view of the other group.

“Jenny!?” someone from the roof shouted.

“Yes!” she shouted back. “Me and Matt, both!” Reassurance swept over her, but nearly as fast as it came, it evaporated.

Two of the men stepped from behind a nearby car, rifles bearing down on them. “Don’t move!” one of them barked.

Jenny eyed them, gauging an appropriate response. Fuck… seemed all she could muster in the moment. Unfazed by Matt and Jenny’s abrupt appearance, the two men stared at them, battle-proven. What now?

If she moved, warned Matt to do the same, it might not be enough. Even if she were to make it down and behind cover, he might not. The two men’s rifles needed not to convince her more of that reality—one pointed at each of them, freezing them in place. She gulped. This can’t be it…

“Stop!” one of the Depot guards warned the group of outsiders. “They’re coming in. Touch ‘em. Hurt ‘em. We lay all of you down in the snow. Permanently! You’ll rot right there!”

The two seemed unimpressed with the threat of force. Coolly, one swept a piece of blonde hair back underneath his sock hat before pressing his cheek back onto the butt of the rifle, a sinister grin showing, impatience consuming his eyes. His partner glanced back toward their group. Jenny held her breath for what felt like an hour. The man cocked his head sideways. “You sure?” His proud demeanor folded, and he clasped the blonde man’s arm, tugging, signaling for him to let Matt and Jenny pass.

Relieved with the immediate change in fortune, they tore through the snow, dipping between vehicles, not leaving anything to chance. Not giving the outsiders the opportunity to reconsider and grab them. Weighed down by Jenny’s rucksack, Matt slogged behind her. She looked to him, but he waved her on. “Just go. I’m com—”

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Gunfire sent Jenny spiraling into the snow, clawing for cover behind an oversized SUV. “Matt!” Her immediate concern. She slid her rifle into a low ready and hunched alongside the vehicle. Crack! Crack! Crack! Glass showered her from above. Crack! Crack! She slammed her body against the door frame. Fuck! Edging her eyes beyond the partition, through the broken window, she caught glimpse of the outsiders pinned down—their position perhaps worse than hers. She looked to the roofline. Their attention, too, was drawn away from the parking lot. “Matt!?” Her voice barely rose over the trill of gunfire.

Fear passed through her. Where the hell is he? Their paired footprints split barely twenty yards back—his trail cutting to her left, away from the firefight, between two sedans sitting bumper-to-bumper. Closing her eyes, she focused, listening to the panic in the air. Screams. Cries for where the shots were coming from surrounded her. Through joint terror, the outsiders and the Depot seemed to be coordinating their effort.

Crack! Crack!

“Damn it! Matt!” she screamed. “Answer me!”

“I’m good! I’m good!” he shouted above the volley of additional gunfire. “Stay down! I’m coming to you!”

“Where?! Where are you?!” She caught his stare over one of the hoods of a sedan. He appeared shaken, eyes wide. “Be careful!”

Crack! Crack! His head disappeared.

A lull in the gunfire and Matt leapt from between the cars. The rucksack rose up and then fell against his back, the weight pushing him forward, spilling him into the ground.

“Hurry!” Jenny shouted, relieved to see him in one piece.

He scrambled to gather his gear, collecting his rifle from the imprint left in the snow. A few more shots skimmed overhead. Another pop and crash of a car window in the distance. Come on! Come on! Her attention bounced from Matt and the collapsing scene behind her. She dropped her ass into the snow, back against the front wheel. Her eyes affixed to his. “Just a little further!” His boots slipped, feet to knees to feet, skittering toward her. Finally, his back met the rear wheel of the SUV. They exchanged fleeting smiles, each of their chests heaving.

“What’d you see? Anything?” Jenny asked between breaths.

“Their shooting—shooting at something. Can’t tell what.” Matt swallowed. “Not sure they know either.” He pointed to the Depot. “Up top there. They—they moved too, all of them moved to the far side.”

“And?”

“And what?” Matt gave her a look of disbelief.

“Never mind. Just—” Another pop of glass, the ping of metal interrupting her as the familiar sound of gunfire erupted again. The rattle sent both cowering further into the side of the vehicle. Jenny felt her cheeks twist into a frown, worry. She drew in a breath, the largest she could manage. Her lungs felt as if they would burst. Closing her eyes, she let it out in a slow leak.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asked.

“No!” Jenny said, forcing the last bit of air from her lungs. “Gimme a sec.” Gathering her nerves, she stood then inched back toward the busted window. What the hell happened? She snuck a peek—the outsiders still occupied with a threat in the distance—the Depot’s guards all on the far side as Matt described. “You didn’t see anyone else?”

“Already said no. Nothing.” Matt puffed. “It’s gotta be the S.A. though, right?”

“We just need to find out where they are.”

Another shot rang out before an absurd silence spread across the parking lot. The stillness, eerie, not even a scream. “Is it over?” she whispered to Matt.

“I don’t know…”

It took only a few more seconds for the welcomed silence to shatter—a cry for help. Not a crack of gunfire in response. She snuck another few peeks through the broken window. One of the outsiders sprawled out in the snow. Another at his side, pumping up and down upon his chest. Might not get another chance. Think, Jenny, think. Look at the outsiders, their position. Shots keep coming this way from that angle. That angle places the S.A. in the far corner, right? Or at least over that way. Only misses from over there would rip through here like that.

She rocked her rifle up and across her chest, tiptoeing around Matt. “What is it?” Jenny disregarded him—his curiosity followed her to the back of the vehicle.

A few glances around the bumper. Nothing. No activity other than what she had seen only moments ago. Then, tumbling across the graying sky, an array of bottles, of spinning flames. They crashed into the snow. A burst of flame engulfed the outsiders, sentencing their frigid bodies to death. Each tormented form collapsed to the ground writhing like cockroaches. A couple of shots fired into the air, unintentional from seizing bodies. Their voices transformed to shrieks, to cries that knotted her stomach. Holy…

Jenny hurried to leave, backing into Matt’s horrified stare.

“We gotta get the hell out of here.” His words direct, ironclad.

She could only bring forth a nod.

“Hey!” A woman’s voice came from behind them.

The woman’s call ripped Jenny from the scene, her attention drawn toward the Depot—the entry opened slightly. Only a hand waved them forward, the body hidden behind cover.

“Forget the ruck. We’ll get it later.” Jenny peeled the heavy bag from Matt’s back, and he jerked open the door of the SUV to stuff it inside. He stood longer than she liked. His gaze locked back onto the flailing bodies thrashing against the black asphalt where the snow gave way to heat. “Come on! This might be our only chance.”

Both sucked a deep breath in, staring across the frozen parking lot. Only forty yards. But the distance was riddled with cars and the threat of gunfire.

“Ready?” Matt squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back. “Always.”

Clutching their rifles, they charged for the opening to the Depot, for safety. Crack!… Crack!… Crack! Three deliberate shots, then the Depot let loose from the rooftop, responding with authority. The gunfire scattered Jenny’s intended path. Diving headlong into the snow, her elbows bit into the pavement. The adrenaline pushed the pain somewhere deep and forgotten, her mind fixed on the two vehicles only a few feet away.

From behind the two cars, Matt and Jenny swung their rifles up and over the hoods. She scanned. There we go. Finally. The mystery was over. Black uniforms of the Second Alliance slunk across the lot—heads peeking from vehicles, rifles following with muzzles firing. This is it! Take a stand! This world isn’t for the S.A. to take. With anxious breaths, scanning the landscape above her sights, her finger rested on the trigger with every intention of using it. She only needed the opportunity.

Just to her left, at the perfect angle, a Guard hunkered down against a car’s bumper presented Jenny with a clear shot. She leaned her face into the stock and exhaled, taking the slack out of the trigger. Smooth press. She took it. Sparks flew from the steel bumper of the old Buick. Shit! The Guard retreated, taking with him any chance of redeeming herself with a follow-up. Damn it. Should’ve double tapped.

Crack! Crack! Two shots from the Depot and a different black uniform fell into the snow.

“Come on!” The woman from the door yelled to them again. “We got you covered! Move!”

“Jenny, let’s go!” Matt shouted, backpedaling toward the door.

“No!” Her eyes never left the sights of her rifle. “No more running! This is the turning point! The last time we’re on the defensive!”

Matt released a guttural roar of frustration into the air, then yelled, “I’m not asking!” He tried to pull her away from the vehicle, but she refused. Instead of protesting longer, he took to the other end of the vehicle, throwing his rifle over the trunk. “Damn you, Jenny!”

She blocked his anger and focused her attention deeper into the lot. Just need another one of them to slip up. That’s all I need. Just one and I’ll go.

Crack! Crack! The Depot fired again. At what, Jenny couldn’t tell, but someone else out there was becoming restless besides her.

Sharpening her glare, she spotted another Guard sliding between a couple vehicles. Again, she leaned into the rifle and expelled every last breath in her lungs. Smooth. Keep it smooth. Her rifle tracked his movements. Crack! Another shot from the Depot, but a miss. The Guard stopped in his tracks, burying himself against the wrong side of a car, exposed to Jenny’s rifle. She pulled. Crack! The Guard doubled over, clutching his gut. Another shot hit his shoulder, then another ripped through his skull. Finished, he slumped from a seated position and onto his side.

“Is that enough for you?” Matt took hold of her arm, bringing her eyes from the rifle. “It’s time to go.”’

“Wait!” Jenny smiled.

In the distance, a small band of Second Alliance Guards retreated, their black uniforms slipping in and out of view. A few shots from the Depot’s roof chased them further into the woodline.

Cheering broke loose.

Jenny leaned in toward Grant—“You think they’ll listen?”—her words fighting against the sporadic outbursts of celebration.

“Won’t know for sure until we try.”

“Yeah…” She studied the crowd. Everyone in the Depot, minus Matt, Xavier, and a few guards minding the perimeter, had gathered in the Garden Center outside. People shuffled along the tables of the soup line, bowls being poured full of stew. Those who’d already been served stood around several burn barrels, chatting between bites while they waited for the explanation they’d been promised.

“They’re pretty worked up over the win,” Grant said, “but you gotta couple of people in there who prolly realize this ain’t over. Those the folks you need to help you out. Tell them your story, and I don’t mean just talkin’, but touch them, you know, reach out to them, and then they’ll help bring in the others.”

“Got ya.” Jenny spotted a few who appeared worried, out of place like black and white figures drowning in a sea of color and jubilance. She understood what Grant meant but doubted those people’s ability to fire up the crowd. No energy existed in them. They barely stood on their own two feet, disconnected, not participating with the others. Jenny could only assume they wished to be alone in their tents to mourn Danny and Griffin, to consider the future of the Depot. At least they get it. They understand loss and that none of this is ever completely over. Everyone else, though… “How many you think know about Danny and Griffin?”

“Gotta be all of them. No way that news didn’t spread ‘round here like wildfire. People can’t keep they damn mouths shut.”

“True… I guess everyone being so happy threw me off. I figured maybe they didn’t know. Just seems kind of wrong.”

“You ain’t bein’ fair to them if that’s what you’re thinkin’.” Grant took on his familiar fatherly tone. “Think about it, girlie. Through all that shit you just went through with Danny and Griffin, with finding us, with finding Xavier, with the battle, all that, you think of Danny the whole time? Or you focus on other stuff too?”

“Other stuff too, but—”

“Yeah, other stuff too. The ‘too’ is important. All of them feel that loss.” He began pointing his finger at the crowd. “All of them knew Danny, knew Griffin. Hell, some of them may have loved them just like you did. So, for you to think they don’t care is wrong. You want them on your side, you better get that outta your head.

“Remember, we just won a battle with no deaths, no injuries. They’re pumped up. Most of them tryin’ to think happy thoughts, tryin’ to block out the bad. You gotta remember people deal with shit differently. You gotta respect that.”

Jenny’s shoulders sank, her eyes followed.

“Hey, don’t be doin’ that.” Grant dropped his arm around her shoulder. “I ain’t tryin’ to get you down. Those just some facts you gotta understand. I know these things ‘cause I’m older than you, and that means I’m smarter,” he joked. “Seriously though, everythin’ I said about you before still stands. Don’t get it messed up. You’re brave and able to do stuff I ain’t ever dreamt of doin’. Someday, you’re gonna be a great leader. In some ways you already are. We just need to work on your people skills.”

She cracked a smile.

“There we go. Now, you think you ready for this?”

“I…” Unnoticed by Jenny, the line for soup had worked its way through—every set of eyes in the crowd were now focused on the two of them. She felt a tremble in her hand, slight, but there. Just tell your story, Jenny. Let them know the truth about where you came from. What you’ve been through.

A few groans slipped through the crowd because of Jenny’s hesitation.

You know what to say and what not to say.

“Alright, let’s quiet down now,” one of the women shouted in an effort to squash the restlessness and last remaining bits of whispers.

Let’s—let’s do this. She took a deep breath, looking over the crowd. Each person in front of her wanted an answer, wanted to know what the hell had happened over the last 24 hours.

When Jenny finally spoke, her words were shaky at first, but tightened with every truth put forth, with every head that nodded along with her. She told them everything about River’s Edge. Their life there. All they had accomplished together since Almawt. Then, their downfall at the hands of the Second Alliance, explaining how the enemy had managed to do it through a plan of deception and false camaraderie. The same way they planned it with the Depot.

“I told you they were trouble,” a woman said.

“Yeah, you did call that one.”

“You think I missed anything?” Jenny asked Grant.

He shook his head.

“That’s all well and good, but what about Griffin and Danny?” a man with a large scar across his forehead demanded. “What the fuck happened to them? The Second… whatever they’re called, they did this? Is that what you think?”

“That’s what I know.” And there it was—the lie Jenny knew she’d have to tell. It was the tricky part, but the most important. If she was to convince the Depot to mobilize against the Second Alliance, the lie had to be told.

Briefly, she brought it together in her head so as not to fumble through it when it mattered.

The S.A. came here to strike up the deal with the Depot. When the S.A. took Matt and Grant prisoner, the discussions fell apart. A fight broke out, but none of us saw it. I was outside, then later in my tent cleaning up. Grant and Matt had been put in a secured room. Unfortunately, the only people who saw everything were the S.A., Griffin and Danny. After the gunshots, I found the bodies and took Sherman and tracked the S.A. I rescued Matt and Grant. Simple. Keep it simple…

If anyone asks why they took Matt and Grant, it’s because they knew the truth about the S.A. And, the reason I wasn’t taken is simple. They didn’t find me. Hopefully, not many people know how Griffin died, but if anyone brings that up… Again, you weren’t there. You have no idea. Stick with that.

“Well, out with it!” the man yelled.

As Jenny brought forth the lie, the scarred man fell silent—the rest of the crowd did the same, all of them listening intently. She hit on all her points, but in the back of her mind, she apologized to Danny for disrespecting the truth, hiding what really happened. In this way, no one would know Griffin, the monster. No one would know what he’d planned for the Depot—for Grant, Matt, for Jenny. The fact that Danny had saved her would never be known. He gave his life for her. The lie was a disservice to him. A disservice to the truth that everyone deserved to know but couldn’t. The S.A. had to be the enemy. It was Jenny’s only way to fight back.

Danny, I’m sorry… but it won’t be for nothing, I promise. River’s Edge is worth it. Taking the S.A. out is worth it. If we don’t, they’ll keep coming for me, Grant, Matt. They’ll keep tearing everyone else down.

The joy which had swept over the crowd earlier had quickly evaporated with Jenny’s explanation. Most struggled to keep their chins up and their eyes toward her while she finished. “…and if you think this is bad, this is only the beginning. The Second Alliance will be back. They won’t quit.”

“We believe you, but how—how do we stand up to them?” Lars asked. “If what you’re saying is true—”

“We don’t know it is!” the scarred man said. “The Second Alliance could all be bullshit. How the hell do we know how big this group is? It’s probably just some bullshit operation. You think people are that organized already? Like some big-ass army?”

“It is possible! Why the hell not?” a woman interjected. “We’re going on three years since Almawt.”

“Seems crazy to me is all…” he let his defeated voice fade.

“Is there any other proof? Anything at all?” the woman asked Jenny.

“I do, but… you have to understand, when I bring him out, he’s not one of them. Yes, he has their uniform on, but he’s—”

“A prisoner?!”

“We took a prisoner?”

“No! He’s not a prisoner!” Jenny shouted out to quell the notion before it got out of hand. “He’s the one they hung from the scaffolding at River’s Edge. Well, the one we thought was hung, but the truth is, the S.A. didn’t kill him. They faked his death. It’s—it’s complicated.”

“And we’re supposed to trust that? Come on!”

Grant stepped forward and cut into the fray, “Shut it! Now!” He shifted his attention to where Matt stood post—the second set of doors toward the back which led inside the Depot. “Matt! Go ahead and bring him out.”

Worried, Jenny watched Matt bring Xavier outside. I’m not sure they’re ready for him yet. Not sure he’s ready either. He must have felt it too, his head shaking, his feet shuffling toward her, shoulders slumped, noticeably ashamed to be dressed in the enemy’s garb. “I don’t think right now’s a good idea,” Jenny said to Grant.

“As good as any. They need to hear it from him. Need to ask him what they want, unrehearsed or whatever you wanna call it.” Grant turned back to the crowd. “Listen! The kid’s comin’ out here to let you in on the truth. The whole story. This ain’t no joke. This ain’t some scare tactic. I’m tellin’ you, there ain’t no way around it. What Jenny says gonna happen, will happen.”

While Grant spoke, Xavier made it to Jenny’s side, closer than she would’ve normally liked, but understandable considering the circumstances.

“She told you how our old town fell to the Second Alliance,” Grant said, “and how some of us fought back. But… we failed, and we felt it. They made sure of that. We lost some people—some good people ‘cause of them. But this young man here”—he gestured to Xavier—“was thought to be the first one killed. But the Second Alliance, they playin’ games with everybody. They acted like they hung him to make a point. That no one can cross them. But instead of killing him, they killed someone else.”

“He turned on you guys!” the scarred man shouted. “That kid’s an insider. Sold you guys downriver.”

“That’s not true!” Grant shut the man down.

Jenny watched Xavier cringe, uncomfortable with the accusation. Wanting to offer his vindication, Jenny felt the words form within her mouth, but thought better of speaking them—Grant was doing well enough.

“Then what?” the scarred man continued. “Why’s he in that damn uniform if he’s one of the good guys?”

Grant sighed. “You know I wouldn’t lie to you. All you know me, worked with me. Hell, Me and Jenny, Matt, all of us have given our sweat, our blood to fix this place just like any of the rest of you. Some of your stares are uncalled for. We love this place. Don’t want to see it fall.”

Most in the crowd nodded with understanding.

“This here.” Grant pulled the unopened Second Alliance letter—the wax seal still intact—from his coat pocket. “This letter was part of the plan, but Griffin never gotta chance to read it. If you want, I can read the damn thing or any of you can, don’t care. I already know what it says without openin’ it. It’s short and sweet. The truth is, they ain’t got it much better than we have. Sure, they got fancy uniforms and big promises, but shit, you can put a dress on a pig, but it’s still a pig.”

Very few chuckled through the tense air.

“The whole point is they’re comin’ for us. They gonna take us whether we want it or not.” He held up a second letter—the one Xavier found in Simon’s boot months ago. “This one shows what they willin’ to do to get what they want. Fake attacks. Murder. Kidnappin’. Both these letters I got are two very different things but come from the same monster.

“The S.A. came here with a peace plan, but they saw me and Matt. Two people that got away from River’s Edge with the truth of what was goin’ on there. When they saw us here, they took us. The only blessin’ was Jenny wasn’t there at the time, or we’d all be gone. You’d be sittin’ here without any answers. Sittin’ here with two dead bodies and three people missin’.

“But thank the Heavens, she wasn’t there. She’s the hero. Saved us. Came and got us with Sherman just like Danny would’ve wanted. I’ll say we got some revenge today, but not enough for what they took when they killed Danny and Griffin. Think of all those two did for you. How they took you in. They deserve better than just lettin’ this whole thing go.”

“We can’t sit back and let them come for us,” Jenny cut into Grant’s message. “They’ll have the advantage if we do. I know maybe I haven’t always been so outgoing, maybe rude or whatever at times, but I’ve been scared. I’ve been scared that they would find us, because I knew what would happen. And it did. But I’m not scared anymore. All of us together, we can do this. We’ve spilled their blood. They’ll be back. It’s a guarantee. But…” She took a second to catch her breath. “We can’t let that happen. They won’t expect us to take the fight to them. We’ll catch them off guard.”

“So, is there a plan?” the scarred man asked. “The kid in black know what’s going on?”

Everyone looked to him.

Xavier exhaled, then started.

Jenny sat at the desk in Danny’s room, alone, creaking back in his chair, trying to imagine him sitting there, not gone. Against her better judgment, she started through his framed photographs—his life. A wife. Kids. Friends. With each smiling face next to his, she couldn’t keep herself from letting a few tears go. She brought one of the lit candles closer to her, to the next picture she held within her hand—a bar scene filled with what she assumed were other cops.

“Is that…?” she grumbled. Of course it is. Griffin’s face was the last thing she wanted to see. Jenny couldn’t understand the respect Danny felt for the monster. So different, the two of them. Maybe more the same in the past. Perhaps, only the apocalypse started them on diverging paths. But all she knew of them was Danny, the man who gave everything for her, and Griffin, the man that only took.

Fearing someday her memories of Danny would fade, she carefully freed one of the photographs from its frame to keep for herself—the one with him and his wife, two daughters, a son, and an infant.

A baby… Her hand rested against her belly. No outward sign yet, but soon there would be no hiding it. She’d wait until then to tell. The time still wasn’t right she decided—the mission too important. It was better to hide her condition as long as she could rather than try to convince others she’d be able to fight, to be part of the movement she’d begun.

Finally… She smiled.

It took a while, but eventually the Depot voted in favor of avenging Danny and Griffin—the Second Alliance now their collective target. It wasn’t easy. At first, Xavier seemed too big of an obstacle to persuading them, but once the crowd opened their interrogation, Xavier met every question with the answer they needed. Jenny was impressed with how well he performed against the pressure, against the hostility some in the crowd projected toward him. But he held strong, speaking from the heart—they knew it with each passionate word he laid upon them.

River’s Edge will be ours again, and from there, we start taking them down, piece by piece.

“Sorry, took so long, but here it is,” Grant said, entering the room with an old typewriter cradled in his arms. “Took Lars awhile to find it and give me a crash course in settin’ it up. Prolly, the crash course that ate up most the time.” He chuckled, setting it down on the table. “Should be good to go. Now, if you’ll look right here, this here’s where—”

“I know how,” she said, her eyes still affixed to all the pictures in front of her.

“Guess I didn’t need the crash course, huh?” He waited for an answer, but it wasn’t coming. “You okay, girlie? Oh. I see…” He lifted one of the frames from the desk and tapped his finger against the glass. “Good man right here. Better than anyone in this place if we’re bein’ honest, but you already knew that.”

She nodded.

“You know he’d be proud of you with everythin’ you’ve done here. You don’t have nothin’ else to prove to him. Don’t let—”

“I’m not trying to prove anything.” She pulled the typewriter in front of her. “This isn’t about anything like that. The truth is I’m just tired of running, tired of being scared of them. Right now, I’m more excited than anything else. Those assholes put people through so much. It’s their turn to feel it. Their turn to get a taste of what’s deserved.

“You said people would follow me, that I’m a leader, but it wasn’t until after the vote that I believed it. Everyone kept coming up to me, thanking me, telling me how brave I was. The looks on their faces—I don’t… I don’t doubt it anymore. Danny trained me for a reason. He chose me to have these skills, and I’m choosing to use them to fight back.

“Grant, it’s not just us this time, we have backing. It’s not even close to what it was like with River’s Edge. We have the truth about the S.A. We have weapons, the people, a chance to surprise them. All of it gives us a real chance.”

“I think we’re being smart about this,” Grant said. “You and Xavier’s plan is good. Real good.” He gripped her shoulder and squeezed a couple times before changing the subject. “I still have these.” He took both the Second Alliance letters from his coat pocket and slapped them on the desk. “Figured if you’re pretendin’ to be Haverty, you might want these, right?”

“I’ve read the one plenty.” She took the new letter, the one intended for Griffin, and delicately removed the wax seal from it. “It’s set up similar to the other,” she said while reading through it. “Same format… Same sort of language… Long-winded for sure. You mind checking this out? It’s a draft I put together for Xavier’s new orders. I think it’s pretty good.”

“Yep, I’ll take a look at it.” Leaning back onto Danny’s bed, Grant began to read.

Jenny waited.

When Grant finished, he stood and made his way back over to the desk. “Sounds good to me. Real official, but let Xavier take a look when they get back. He’s prolly seen S.A. orders before and can tell you what’s missin’.”

Jenny eyed Haverty’s newest letter and adjusted the margin on the typewriter to match it as closely as she could.

“Never knew you knew anythin’ about typewriters. Figured it was only computers and phones with your generation.”

“When I was younger, my grandmother let me mess with hers. She liked the clacking of the keys. Told me it relaxed her when she wrote letters to her friends.”

“Great! You guys got it,” Xavier said upon entering the room with Matt and Sherman.

“We were worried Lars wouldn’t be able to find it,” Matt said, as he took Sherman into his kennel.

“You think I’ll be able to make it look right?” Jenny asked. Xavier moved behind her to get a look at what she had started on the typewriter. “Well?”

“You shouldn’t have any trouble making it look right. I’m more worried with how it sounds.”

“She wrote this here.” Grant handed him the draft, and Xavier read over it.

“This is a little too much.” Xavier set the letter on the desk. “I’m not trying to be nit-picky, but the orders need to be a lot shorter. Haverty’s regular letters are long, but his orders aren’t. They’re supposed to be professional, and he writes them that way. You’ll definitely want to throw in some big words like you did in the draft, but there doesn’t have to be a lot to it. Let me see that pencil, and I’ll try and shorten it up.”

“How ‘bout me and Matt leave the both of you to it,” Grant said. “That is unless you need us doin’ somethin’ else.”

“You mind taking Sherman out for a bit? Let him use the bathroom and stretch his legs.”

“Isn’t that what me and Xavier just did?” Matt asked under his breath.

“I don’t think he’ll complain,” Jenny said.

“I got you, girlie. Matt, nab up that rifle and cover me.”

“Sure.” Matt passed Sherman’s lead over to Grant, then grabbed the rifle.

“You two play nice,” Grant said, as he and Matt left the room.

“Okay.” Jenny let the joke slide, focusing back to the letter. “How much do you think they’ll look this over?”

“Not sure,” Xavier said, still ticking through the draft with suggestions. “Sentries are used to taking orders and won’t question Haverty, but you never know. I think so far, this sounds pretty good. These changes will get it close to being perfect. Otherwise… Well, you know what will happen.”

“You sure you still want to do this?”

“Are you getting on me again? I told you I’m not S.A. I don’t wan—”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just… Going back into River’s Edge is crazy. I’m just worried about you. Even with the uniform and everything, what if—what if someone recognizes you?”

“I’m not too worried about that. Most the S.A. there aren’t going to know who I am. The Guards aren’t going to give a shit. Haverty’s gone. The whole thing with the hanging, with you guys escaping, isn’t likely to be known by a lot of the S.A. that’s there. Things like that, you know, things that make the S.A. look bad don’t get out very often. They change people out pretty frequently to keep it that way. The only people who will care about me being back are our people.”

“You better not get caught sneaking around before you get the chance to set it up.”

“What’s the worst that can happen? They kill me again?”

“Don’t say that,” Jenny said through weak laughter.

“This plan will work. I know you’ll handle your part. Matt and Grant will take care of what they have to do. And trust me, I’ll have no trouble with mine.” He took a crisp piece of paper and slipped it into the typewriter. “Now, right here is how the orders are done.” He pointed to a section of Jenny’s draft he had corrected. “Format the top of the letter like this. If it doesn’t look like that, they’ll know right away.”

Jenny nodded.

“When we take the wax seal from the other envelope and super glue it to ours, then there’ll be no doubting it.”

“I hope so…”

Two faint lights ahead in the distance. One for each watchtower just as he remembered. Only a while longer and the lamps would disappear with the rising of the sun. It was then he’d approach the gate. Only then. For now, the young man would continue to wait inside the woodline, obsessively tapping the envelope in his front coat pocket. He counted each tap like the ticking of a clock, wishing away what darkness remained of the morning.

Waiting…

Tapping…

Finally, it came—the lanterns pulled from the watchtowers—the gate completely visible in the daybreak. The young man emerged, one hand on his rifle’s grip which hung from its sling, his other hand, swung freely, casually as not to raise suspicion to something more sinister.

One of the Sentries stood, a pair of binoculars to his eyes.

In the other watchtower, a rifle swung toward the approaching stranger.

“Relax!” the one with the binoculars called out. “One of ours!”

“You sure?”

“Yep!”

“What’s he want?”

“How the hell should I know?”

The young man strode toward the gate, each of his steps punching bootprints into the untouched snow. He took the envelope from his coat pocket as he worked his way through the gauntlet of vehicles that surrounded the wall of River’s Edge Academy.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Xavier.”

“Why you come out here alone?”

“I have orders.” He held the envelope up for the Sentry to see. “They’re from Haverty’s office.”

The Sentry nodded over to his partner and a bucket was pitched over the side of the tower. “Go ahead and put it in.”

Xavier’s hand shook toward the bucket, unsure if he could actually release the envelope from his grip. He knew once it slipped through his fingers there’d be no going back. That once the bucket had been lifted, the envelope and letter scrutinized, the fate of the plan would be determined right here and now.

Trembling inside, he could only stand there watching as the Sentry broke the wax seal and removed the letter.

“Took ya long enough to get here, Tommy. What? An extra day or two?”

“I’m not sure who you talked to, but we—we hit a bump in the road. Something came up. Definitely not how we planned things to happen.”

“That all ya gotta say to me, Tommy? A so-called bump in the road? That it?”

“I’m sorry, Bill, we had—”

“Maybe Bill’s a little too loose given what happened. Maybe we needin’ to tighten things up a bit. From now on let’s stick with sir or… Mr. Haverty if ya wantin’ my name in your mouth.”

“Uh, I don’t understand.”

“Tommy, ya fell into my good graces by success ‘n’ so let’s say failure’ll do the opposite. It’ll have ya removed. Truth is, ya failed, Tommy. Things ain’t so great no more.”

“It was one setback. We know where they are, we’ll go get them again. I just need more men.”

“So ya can go off ‘n’ get more of my men hurt or worse, killed? I don’t think so.”

“Give me a day to spend with Joseph, and then I’ll put a team of volunteers together. You wanted that place anyways. Let me take it for you.”

“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, you’re gettin’ too far ahead of yourself now. All that Soldier stuff we agreed to before was contingent upon your efforts for the S.A. Well, all I can say now is that your efforts have fallen short, our agreement’s changed.”

“So… what? What’s all this mean?”

“I’ll give ya a day or two to cool down, then we’ll talk, figure this whole thing out.”

“Alright. Fair enough.”

“Oh, and Tommy, in full disclosure, we had to have Joseph moved, ya know with the whole changin’ of the agreement.”

“What?!”

“He’s back in LPH with the new trainin’ program.”

“You son of a—”

“Settle down, son. Ya need to step back. Let’s not do anythin’ brash now.”

“You took Joseph? You—you took him. Didn’t let me know.”

“I’m needin’ ya to step back there. Ya gettin’ too close over here this way.”

“I’m not listening to you anymore.”

“What ya plannin’ on doin’ with that lil’ thing there. Let’s put that knife away.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt… unless you scream.”

“Now, let’s talk about this.”

“The agreement changed, right?”

“Well, maybe we can—”

Thank you for reading Days Since… Jenny: Day 986. I sincerely hope that you enjoyed the story and will invest future time in the series. Please be sure to keep an eye out for book four: Days Since… Battle for River’s Edge: Day 995

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Copyright © 2020 by Power Shift Publishing, LLC.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews—without written permission from the author.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

I have used the city of Cincinnati as the location for this series. Please understand that this book is fiction and I have bent the settings of certain areas to fit in with what the story needs. The Cincinnati in this book is not completely accurate.

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