Reserved

Liv ran. Her hands were curled loosely at chest height; her feet, encased in tennis shoes left over from another life, pounded the ground. All the long way down. I'll head into town. Blood falls all around. She did not reach forward with each step, but pushed off of the sand beneath her—perfect running form, or it would be if her face was not tilted up towards the predawn sky. Liv increased her speed, each step push push pushing the ground farther away, while in her mind, her arms lengthened and her chest deepened. Liv's face pulled forward, her eyes elongated and her nose and mouth tightened into a sharp gold point. Goosebumps spread across her skin with the eruption of a thousand feathers. And then, with a final push and a curl of her taloned toes, she was airborne, wheeling high, free free free of the real world...

Until the wall rose above her, rudely erupting into her clear view, as unwelcome as any volcano. Liv’s small, human feet skidded to a stop, spraying sand in an arc before her. The rushing of wind through feathers again became the crash of waves on the sand. The sun was up, Liv's daily loop of the Refuge completed. Time to go back home. Trapped in an iron dome. All alone. Alone. Alone.

In the tiny one-room living space built into the back of her garage, the mechanic peeled out of the tank and shorts she had been running in and dropped them carelessly in the middle of the otherwise tidy floor before removing her metal arm and padding to the shower. Liv stood in the hot water listlessly, letting it pound into her skin, watching the water run down the drain. With just a little bit of effort and a quiet lullaby, the swirling water stayed clean and clear; otherwise, it might thicken and deepen into rusty blood, life flowing away away away… One armed, Liv bathed with just a small part of the pre-disaster bar of soap that had cost her two of her handmade rifle scopes. It had a pleasant, flowering smell that helped keep her mind in nice places. Gentle faces. CD cases. Filled flower vases.

Afterward, in the mirror, she examined herself without really seeing— naked, her hair lank and dripping. She poked around the empty shoulder socket with one finger only to find the skin pale and irritated around the metal socket. Liv poked harder, but it wasn’t hot to the touch or overly painful yet, so she went ahead and fitted her metal appendage into its place. The mechanic would have to do something for that shoulder, but it would be fine a bit longer; the salve she needed had only run out the previous week. Patch up the leak. Don’t you be meek. Listen to them shriek.

Clean, dressed, and mostly dry, Liv proceeded to get dirty. The list of important things that broke in the Refuge seemed endless, but the young woman certainly didn’t mind the work. Liv picked up the malfunctioning cybernetic foot at the top of her pile, and listened to the Refuge come awake.

---

Liv was still tinkering away—this time on a set of handheld communicators of her own design— when a friendly enforcer came by to pick up the weapon upgrades he had requested. The talkative young man had plenty of gossip to share on a new beyond-the-wall operation including large numbers of civilians and, even more interestingly, they needed mechanics.

Liv turned to take in the looming wall, just visible between the buildings in that direction. The massive barricade filled her with apprehension, but even more so Liv felt the burning need to go beyond it once more. It had been months since Liv had been brought half-sane into the Refuge and she wanted—no needed— to see the place where she had lost her family. A small part of her still hoped she might find her father behind that dark wall. Here comes the fall. We must heed the call. This is the end of it all.

Suddenly, Liv stood up, sending a wrench or two clattering to the floor. She shoved her toolkit, including the attachments for her metal arm, into an army green backpack along with a clean shirt, a coil of rope, and a few boxes of made bullets for her two pistols. If nothing else, the pay for this op would allow her to acquire some real honest-to-God deodorant, not the handmade shit most commonly found in the Refuge. With a glare, Liv shoved a container of the offending antiperspirant into her bag as well.

---

Head held high by the force of her will power, Liv approached one of the officers loading trucks and shoved the papers identifying her as a mechanic under his nose. She’d chosen this particular man for his busy, harried demeanor and, just as she’d hoped, he barely gave the papers a glance before letting out a sigh of relief.

“You’ve got no idea how badly we needed a real mechanic,” he said, flashing a smile at Liv, “You’ll be in the truck over there with the other civilians.”

Liv smiled back, relieved as well. He hadn’t bothered to check her psych-eval, which was highly questionable at best. Humming to herself, Liv strode over to the truck in question, trying to look as if she was meant to be here. Nice cold beer. Ghouls come to leer. Death draws near.

Lyssa strolled down the street of Refuge from her house down the way. She’d been told of a scavenging mission that was happening today and was currently on her way to enlist for it. That was one thing that kept her mind off of the things she didn’t want to think about, such as; the death of her fiancé and not knowing if the rest of her family was alive. An image of their faces as she was leaving Germany flashed across her mind suddenly, making her mood go from decent to sad pretty quickly. With a sigh, she quickly pushed that thought to the farthest part of her mind and continued to walk on.

Her music was playing quietly though her headphones, but she then turned up the volume to the highest level it would go. Music was good at drowning out her thoughts and letting her enjoy the day. Only sucky thing about it was that she couldn’t hear anyone, which usually resulted in them scaring the hell out of her when they needed something. Despite that, she still hadn’t learned to actually leave an ear bud out so she could hear. You’d think I’d learn, was something she thought every time it happened.

“Hey Elijah!” She said, waving at the soldier as she approached. She was surprised to see how many vehicles were lined up to leave. They usually didn’t have that many when going on a regular scavenging mission. “Dejah did say we were going out pretty far today.” She muttered to herself, remembering some of the details one of her roommates had given her the night before. She had accidentally missed the meeting they had about this scavenging meeting, causing her to hear second hand what was said, instead of knowing it already.

“May I join in on this today?” She finally asked Elijah as she approached him outside the Command Center. “And is it true we are going out to The Commons today?” She asked, curious on the adventure they were going out on. She had been doing scavenging missions for a bit now, but had only gone to The Commons once or twice since she came to Refuge. Just thinking of going that far out made the hair on the back of her neck stick up. It was a little exciting going out there, but it was scary as well. The farther out they went, the less time they had to gather supplies before it turned dark. Getting stuck out there in the dark, with ghouls, was not something any of them wanted. Moving quick was going to be key for this mission.

Tick-tick-tick-tick-Drrrrrrrrrr!

It was a decent, shiny morning when Fred awoke, grumbling a little and instinctively reaching for his gun. He sighed and stood up, stretching. The window opened and he climbed up onto the roof of his house to check up on the plants he'd taken up there, and then checking to make sure that nobody else was up he check the other little spot where he had some weed growing. Fred wasn't a user but it was always nice to have just a little more influence over some people. With that he went back inside, and tiptoed into his basement again hoping he would not have to meet the family placed into his house. He'd already went by three days without talking them, and hoped he could go longer. When finally in the basement's lab he checked on his experiments of bits of ghoul tissue but... it had died overnight, and he was being really aimless with them for now. At least, he had positive confirmation of the treatise upon them being overwhelmingly right. A disappointed sigh escaped the Canadian and he wiped a bit of annoyed sweat off of his brow. Oh well.

Morning exercise came next so he used his massive axe to split a little wood, and then deciding it was prime time ran across his pier and somersaulted into the water. After a brisk swim he got out and stood on his pier reflectively. He wasn't sure what he was reflecting on but he was always told a little more phiolosphizing was good for you. After thirty unfruitful minutes he wondered who was he kidding, and decided that there was nobody to be kidding. Thus, he quickly ran back inside and ran even faster when one of the patrons of his home raised their voice to hopefully finally greet him. "Fuckers in my house." he muttered under his breath, and locking himself in his room with a definite "click." There Fred lay on his bed a little longer, and decided to get his shit together. A live sample was exactly what was needed, and these bastards going scavenging were exactly what he needed to help him. He folded up his hazmat suit and gasmask, cleaned out his pistol and grabbed two magazines in addition to six on his belt. Then he put on some clothes. He decided on a red checkered shirt with jeans and boots combination decorated with polarized aviators that put the word "Lumbersexual" in people's heads. As an afterthought he took his axe, some of his scientific equipment, an old radio, a med-kit, and some of the stuff he needed for the diabetes. He turned around in a mirror and sighed. Even as the world was ending people would still see him and think he was a hipster or some shit. Oh well, naught he could do. With that he crawled out of the window again, noticing with delight through another window the one of his co-habitants was about to knock on a door to his room.

Fred took the long rout to get to the lads recruiting for the scavenging venture, singing a song in some foreign language that he doubted anyone could understand and the better for it. He noted some of the traders and said hello to the very few people he knew. How few... he was one of the few people who did not come to refuge and had their house here for a start. While never saying it himself out of humility Fred always thought that his fighting was largely what cleared up the place and made it seem the best choice for a community to hole up. Yet, after those first few weeks he became a recluse, trying to make sense of all the bullshit that the new world was made of. But, it was all turned upside down before he even knew it was. He was trying to update social media telling people to stay safe when the last damn internet had actually gone out three days prior. It was infuriating how all this shit was going on, and just as life seemed to be looking nice. Just as he was recovering over the batshit crazy things that went down in Haiti and Brazil, there was now this. It was funny come to think of it, he thought it was a hallucination and decided to fuck it and stop trying to cope with them. Little did he know this psychotic rage had saved many lives, and perhaps even him.

Realizing that various thoughts had distracted him Fred looked up and realized that he was already nearing the soldiers and such. After waiting for the others to finish signing up he waved and smiled. "Hey man!" he shouted, getting nearer. "Look, I heard of this scavenging trip and just want to sign up. I'm a damn good shot, and I can kick quite a bit of ass even unarmed. I also know how to distinguish at least some good shit, medicines and agricultural stuff. I just have one thing to ask, if it is possible to get you guys to help recover a ghoul. A live one." he said, knowing the hardships that entailed. Lowering down to a half-whisper he continued. "Look dude, it's the only way to test a whole lot of things on them. You know I'll more than pull my weight, just help me out with this eh?" he said, bits of the Canuck accent coming out as the matter became somewhat emotional for him. Fred was just a naturalist, a historian more than a researcher but he would damn well do what was needed. He just hoped the grunts would agree to it.

Hannah and Amanda are new here, and while 'here' is great - at least compared to 'out there' - It presents its own problems. Where to begin? Amanda thinks. How to begin? Hannah ponders. People are curious about the 'two-headed woman'. They always are. However, the twins know that being a special snowflake isn't going to put food in their stomach. It's not going to earn them any respect. We'll have to produce. Maybe Hannah thinks it. Maybe Amanda does.

They lie in bed for a few more moments, staring at the ceiling. Hannah's always the one to wake them both up. Amanda's always the one to get them both moving. "Mandy," says Hannah softly, "We doin' the thing today?"

"What thing?" Amanda questions, stretching her side of their body.

Belatedly, Hannah stretches too. The twins get themselves in sync for the day. "You know, that scav run."

They swing out of bed and stand. Walking is a collaborative effort. It used to amaze doctors, back when there were doctors, but the twins don't give it any thought. They slip on a pair of slippers and pad over to the fridge. It's old and scavenged, buzzing and humming unevenly, with a couple of hastily patched bullet holes. "It's so post-apoc chic," Mandy observes. "God, I love it."

Sensing that her sister is avoiding the subject of the scav run, Hannah tosses her opinion into the ring. "I mean, I'm not necessarily for it," she tries.

They bend down and Amanda pulls some apple juice from the fridge. They only have three cans left from that supermarket they hit right before coming here. "I'm not necessarily against it," she eventually replies.

"My turn?" Hanna enquires. Only one of the twins really needs to drink for the both of them. The other can get by with just wetting her mouth.

Amanda shoots her sister a sidelong glance and tilts the can back. She takes a swig. "Get rekt."

Hovering between playfully and legitimately annoyed, Hannah reaches over and plucks the juice away. It's a fairly precious commodity. "Mandyyyyyy, what the fuck?!" she whines, before crossly gulping down the rest of it. Amanda quirks an eyebrow. "Look, I just needed some apple juice to start the day. Sometimes a girl needs apple juice."

Their home is big (since they count as two people) and empty, recently renovated and converted too. Others should be moving in anytime now. Introductions will be...interesting. The sisters have made a game out of guessing what they might be like and when they'll arrive. Their morning routine hasn't changed in years. They get through it quickly. They go for a morning jog. It seems like everybody here jogs. Probably a good idea, Amanda thinks to herself. She doesn't even need to confirm that Hannah's thinking the same. Sometimes, she just knows. They catch one of their neighbours, Elijah - he's important people, Hannah remembers - heading towards the command center. "Now or never," she prods her sister.

"Ugh, you're a pest, Hannie." By mutual agreement, they slow to a fast walk. "Ponytail?" Amanda asks. They reach up and tie her hair into one.

"I really think we should," Hannah pushes. It's usually her sister who takes the initiative, so these are shoes that she's not entirely comfortable filling. "The servers are working around here, but there's no way to get something worldwide back online or to connect to it right now. We've been sitting here and doing nothing for almost three days now. We should make ourselves useful. besides, aren't you bored?"

I'll let you win, Amanda thinks. They start walking slowly in the same direction as Elijah. Heads turn. "I fully see your point, it's just, I'd rather not die. This is kinda jumping into the deep end, dontcha think? We're total noobs."

Hannah stops walking abruptly and her other half is caught somewhat off-guard. The twins stumble a bit. "Well, we'll just keep a lookout," she promises, "and these people know what they're doing. Besides, apple juice."

"Bitch, you can't bribe me with apple juice." Amanda cranes her neck in the direction of their house, considering. Twist my rubber arm. "Ugh fine, I'll do it, but let's run home and get our shit. If we're going out there, I wanna be packing heat."

"Dealio!" Hannah's expression is disgustingly sunny.

"I hate you."

___

A couple of hours later, the twins are there in the parking lot dressed to leave the safe zone and shouldering a backpack. Hannah rolls a single die between her thumb and pointer, while Amanda idly twirls their keychain. "Damn, this is some legit hardware," the latter observes, letting out a low whistle. Hannah grins like a big child. "God I want turret," she says. "Do you want turret, because I need turret."

"Only if you can beat me there," Amanda counters wryly.

Hannah lets out a snort of laughter. They wait.

“Stand. The Hell. Back.” The tall Enforcer Agent was only inches from the others face. “I won't ask you again, bud.”

Alex had been at it for over an hour, the Second Watch, or more appropriately this time around, “babysitter duty”, as news of the supposedly secretive operation was spilled and swept through the Refuge like a wildfire. Lawkeepers were needed at various points just to keep those with crazy ideas from, in fact, executing those crazy ideas. Just when you thought the community was large enough for rumors to thin their way out to the point of fading into the wasteland backdrop, they do just the opposite. Freakin’ people with nothing better to do than gossip about shit they didn't fully understood anyway. And what's worse? Half of them don't even have their story straight.

“Look people.” Alex raised his hand hoping to grab the multitudes attention, his voice becoming slightly hoarse from a mixture of the cool dry air and having to speak over the crowds. “You've heard the call from Command but we need to keep cool while they finish sorting out who's going where.”

He and the other Lawkeepers didn't expect a sudden rush of volunteers, but people were still antsy nonetheless, especially those who've been stuck behind the walls for awhile. Alex, however, had only been a part of the community for less than a month, settling down nicely in a three-story tenement that had probably seen better days before the world went sideways. Before. When society took things like water, food, and toothpaste for granted, and paid obscene amounts of money for a cup of hot joe on our way to a job we didn't really like. In retrospect, he wished he'd had a job back then that was more the equivalent of a daily grind, than a “hired gun” since you never really knew if you'd make it home with the latter career choice. But, the choice really wasn't his and he paid for that mistake in more ways than he'd ever care to admit. On the bright side, he supposed, life gave him rotten lemons, so he took those lemons and made several gallons of deadly lemonade, distributing a tall glass in the form of a bullet to each of the lowlifes who decided it was a good idea to destroy his family. The blood that day wouldn't wash away, but he didn't want it to because he never wanted to forget who or what he was fighting for.

Alex couldn't figure out why anyone would want to leave Refuge, but it was a necessary suicide mission he supposed. He'd been fine behind the safety of the walls, eeking out a life, or at least surviving long to have a possible future life. He'd been living a partial lie since entering through the gates of Refuge dressed in the guise of a prison law enforcement officer, the ruse continued, which allowed him a position into the Lawkeepers, an ironic twist considering his many years as a mafia gunman. Alex TreVayne wasn't a model citizen, nor did he necessarily believe what he was presently doing would make any difference in the end, but he was there to help wherever he was needed nevertheless, and hopefully atone for a past life of bloodshed.

The sound of laughter drifted up from the street below, making him feel very alone. Not because of the lack of people, there were plenty of them around. Hell, there were more people around than Danny could handle most days. He felt alone because the laughter reminded him of his old life. It reminded him of happier days. Days spent with his family. It reminded him of Kathryn flirting with the neighbor's son while he worked on his car. It reminded him of his mother, laughing at some truly god awful joke that his stepdad had made. He could never tell if his mom actually thought those jokes were funny or if she was just being polite but he remembered the smile she always had. Such a warm and genuine smile. Things may not have been perfect back then but he was happy. They were all happy. But now they were all gone. Joe was dead and his mom and Kathryn...Well, he had no idea where they were. He had looked for them. He still looked for them whenever he got the chance...But they were gone.

Danny sat up on the bed and stayed there for a second, listening to the sound of laughter before another sound overshadowed it. Yelling from down the hallway. Danny knew exactly who was responsible. A couple he shared the house with. They weren't bad people but they bickered and fought all the time. The only thing Danny liked less than the sound of their arguments was the sound of their headboard banging on the wall during their make up sex. He rolled his eyes as their voices drew nearer and pushed himself up off the bed to slam the door shut so they wouldn't come in. The last thing he wanted was to get involved in their squabble. Courtney liked to move when she got angry so their arguments would take them all over the house. Much to Danny's annoyance.

He wandered over towards the window, across the room that had obviously housed someone younger than himself before the world had gone to hell. From the window he could see two women for the briefest of moments before they passed from his line of sight. They were gone quickly but Danny noted the smiles on their faces as they talked to each other. It was nice to see people smiling these days and heartwarming to know that they could find some kind of happiness. It made him smile too. Right up until he heard something hit a wall. He had a feeling Courtney had thrown something at Mark. Woman had a serious temper.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the ceiling, sighing heavily. He had to get away from these two.

He thought about heading to the back of the house to his workshop but remembered that he was running low on supplies so their was little point. Besides, as long as he was still technically on the same property as them, their was a chance that Courtney and Mark would come wandering in to pester him and if that happened, it increased the chances that he would gently stab one or both of them. So it would have to be option B.

After putting on some clothes and grabbing his gear, he started out of the room, only to be suddenly trapped in the hallway as Mark and Courtney emerged from their room, still arguing about nothing he cared about and seemingly completely unaware of his presence. Danny clenched both his fists up and held them at head height as he closed his eyes and felt his entire body shaking. He fought the urge to punch something and instead thrust his arms between both of his housemates and shoved them aside. As he passed them by, they both shot him a look but were too used to his dismissive and sometimes plain rude ways to be really bothered by it and just returned to their argument.

Leaving idiot one and idiot two behind him, Danny made his way through the kitchen where he encountered Forrest, the fourth member of their dysfunctional little tribe. The entirely more bearable Forrest was was sitting at the kitchen island with a book, an apple and what resembled a half eaten piece of toast. Forrest was an amiable sort. Very likeable but with no real force of will. People tended to walk all over him and Danny was really no different. As he passed, Danny reached over and snatched both the apple and the toast that Forrest was about to take another bite from and headed towards the door.

"Oh come on man!" Forrest protested. "That's just--"

Danny only turned and offered a shrug with the toast in his mouth and an expression that only slightly indicated that he was sorry for his blatant thievery. He was gone before Forrest could offer another complaint. Not that he would bother.

---

By the time Danny reached the growing crowd that was surrounding the scav convoy, Forrest's toast was gone and the apple was halfway to the same fate. He paused for a moment, watching the people around and crunching the fruit between his teeth and wondering how many others were coming. Truthfully, Danny would prefer to scavenge on his own but the people in charge of Refuge liked to be a lot more organized about it all. Danny wasn't sure how to feel about such a large group. These days, he didn't do well around small groups of people, never mind large groups. He'd have to grin and bear it though. Or bear it at least.

Danny pushed his way through the people gathered around the convoy until he reached an enforcer who quickly had Danny's authorisation thrust in his face. Danny didn't even pause long enough for him to really see it but he was well enough known around Refuge as a scavenger these days that he was just allowed through anyway.

Danny didn't go far though. He stopped beside Alex and turned back to look at the crowd again. He offered no kind of greeting to his friend. Instead just taking another bite of Forrest's apple.

"Stupid fucker... Alright yeah I'm sure it's for the best." Fred replied, smiling. Fred thought for a moment and then thrust out his papers. While the organizers of the scavenging operation were busy he ran home and pulled a few magazines and books as well as a set of yellow pages before running back; it took him less than a minute to get back, for he knew there was little time. He had these things with him for a simple purpose; if he would be denied research more or less the only way he knew how then he could look for new research equipment. With the journals and other texts he brought along he could at least look up some pertinent addresses when they were going around. Of course if that failed he knew he would be almost useless back in refuge so there was always the back-up plan. He was quite fond of it really, he knew there was at least a decently sized hipster community in Washington and that naturally lead to craft breweries. If the people didn't want to know how the fuck these ghouls worked so be it, at least he'd make a pretty penny... a pretty piece of paper for food off of their desire to drink.

He already had his own gun and needed no more, so he boarded the trucks without any further ado. Fredrick smiled politely at whoever the hell sat beside him, but then looked to the sky. It would sure be a long drive. He was damn well certain that the fu-... Eli was right that somebody would die. It was a given fact to him that he wouldn't, even if the odds were seemingly against it but he didn't really care. Wasn't planning to write a will in any case, even if he'd recommend it to others present.

---

After a while Fred was a little more enthusiastic, standing up and looking at the scenery. He had only been outside of the grounds that were now refuge... once or twice since all the shit started. The man wondered if perhaps he'd gone rusty or if there were some developments that via isolation he hadn't hear of. He pushed this worry aside, knowing that a pretty tight regimen made sure that he would not do too poorly and that he would at least, live as earlier he predicted. He wasn't scared of death, but precautions were nevertheless a pretty damn good idea.

When they stopped to clear some of the road he hopped off to take a walk, pacing along gently. Sitting all that time made his ass hurt, especially with the jeans that he would have murdered someone for seeing them in conjunction with a laptop and starbucks coffee. Fred kneeled down and burned just a bit of the growth on the ground and wafted the smoke to take a sniff. Putrid, to say the least.

After a while he smelled a much better smell, of tobacco and whatever other shit companies put in there. Instinctively his hands reached to a pocket and produced one of his own much better and savoury cigars. He flicked his lighter a few times and cursed as it was out of fuel. He started madly flicking the thing until there were enough sparks to finally get his smoke alight. Taking one long puff, he stared at the city. Once, the word "stone jungle" was but a metaphor. There was probably some deep philosophical shit and it was somehow a metaphor for humanity or greed or something else but he couldn't be bothered right now. After savouring the smoke in his mouth, he let out the stuff from his nose in a wide arc of smoke like a vaping asshole of old. There wasn't really much to do, so he just stood with his Cuban friend between his teeth watching the people working, wondering if he should ask to help. Remembering one of the things he had to do, he looked about for some sign of a bar or brewery, perhaps a billboard or broken neon light. It was the jackpot that perhaps nobody but him seemed to realize was in fact, a jackpot.

Liv sat staring listlessly over the head of the man sitting opposite her in one of the trucks carrying human volunteers for the scav mission. The metal of her left shoulder struck the metal of the truck’s protective cage, click click clicking repetitively. The mechanic really didn’t mind the sound; it gave her some reassurance that what she was seeing was real, that she had not slipped off into insanity.

Outside, Liv could see the mix of jungle and ruble she had fought through with her family to reach the Refuge, but the distant screams of her sister were silent today as if Liv had relived them so many times the memories were starting to lose their power. She wouldn’t forget though, she wouldn’t let herself. Robin deserved that much.

Under the cover of crossing her arms, Liv placed one of the pointed tool attachments on her bionic arm against the soft, firm flesh of her abdomen and drew a long, thin cut to feel something, anything at all at the sight of the lush wilderness that had witnessed her family’s deaths. The dark color of her tank would hide the blood. Nip it in the bud. Drown it in mud. Let it spill in floods, floods, floods.

When the trucks stopped for a few moments, Liv was the last off. She stepped off into the soft loam and walked to the edge of the cleared road, staring defiantly into the heart of this tangle of vegetation. Nothing moved, nothing blinked. This place did not acknowledge her or any other human. They had become trespassers on their own planet.

Liv was the first back on the truck. She sat stiffly, waiting for the comforting rumble of engines and click click clicking of her metal arm on the roll cage to resume. Sooner or later, something would break and Liv would be needed to fix it. Perhaps it was bad that she hoped that would be soon. Dark as a new moon. Alone in the gloom, we wait for our doom.

Garsin woke fairly early, as usual, just before sunrise. Since Everything had to shut down at nightfall, he had no reason to stay up normally and could good a decent amount of sleep even if he woke up before first light. This gave him a chance to get breakfast and start up the forge before his right hand man, Micheal, would show up along with the other two apprentices, Kyle and Vinnie. He enjoyed the company but valued his time alone in the morning so that he could wake up at his own pace.

Unlike a majority of the people in Refuge, Garsin actually lived by himself, right next to his forge. It wasn't so much because of his size, though that would make or some problems living in the cramped houses around him, but more because of the fact that he built the small place himself, and on the same property where he converted two buildings to a forge and a storehouse. His home wasn't large, but large enough to fit him inside of. If you walked through the front door, there would be a queen sized bed to the left, with a bedside table that held a lamp and alarm radio. At the foot of the bed was a trunk that held clothes, towels, and linen. Across the room and on the right there was a kitchenette that held the basic necessities, a fridge, sink, an oven with a stove top, two cabinets that contained various cups and plates, and a drew with silverware. There was also one small table next to the front window with two chairs and a sheet metal rose that Garsin made and painted to 'liven the place up a tad'. Along the back wall there are two doors. the left one was a closet that held Garsin's personal items and gear, and the door on the right was a bathroom that had a tub, a sink with a small mirror, and a toilet. All in all the place was kept as spotless as Garsin could keep it. While not a neat freak, He definitely liked coming back to a tidy home at the end of a busy day.

Upon getting out of bed, Garsin wen through his regular routine of freshening up, getting dressed, and cooking a hearty breakfast of eggs, sausage, grits, and a biscuit. Due to running the smithing shop, being here for a while, and not really needing to buy anything except food and materials, he had a good amount of food to keep up with his stature. Today however, his routine was thrown of a bit by a knock on the door. Grunting a little, he finished off the least of his meal and went to answer the door, surprised to see Micheal up this early.

"Micheal? What are you doing here so early this morning?" he said with an eyebrow raised.

"Mornin' boss, excuse my intrusion, but I thought you might like someone here to get the forge started up for you," Micheal said with a smirk. "You said you were going along with the scav mission today didn't you?"

"I thought that was next week," Garsin replied, to witch Micheal was already shaking his head.

"No sir, they are gonna be prepping to leave here in a few hours."

Cursing under his breath, Garsin walked out of his home and started helping Micheal get the forge started while giving him instructions for while he was gone. Once finished the two apprentices showed up greeted everyone as well. "Alright," Garsin started now that everyone was here, "Kyle, Vin, while I'm gone Micheal will be in complete charge. He knows exactly how I run things so y'all shouldn't have to worry about anything but working the metal." He took the keys from his pocket and handed them to Micheal. "You take care of the shop while I'm gone of coarse, it's yours if I don't come back... and I know you won't but if anything goes missing and it is undocumented, I will be looking for you when I get back, understood?"

Micheal gave a nod and Garsin went inside his house to gather his pack and put on his gear. Once he had everything gathered he walked outside and took a deep breath of the still damp morning air before heading up the road. Along the way people were watching as the well known blacksmith went down the street. Some kids watched in awe of the hulking man suited up in armor, painted matte grey in most places, white in others and accented in red. A cloth was snapped into place as his waist that was white, though worn with time, and trimmed in red and covered his right leg down to just past the knee. He had his pack on his back with his bush axe strapped to it and his gun at his side in its holster. One of the patrols passed by him a waved with a low whistle as Garsin was about to pass.

"Hey, hey, what's the occasion? Are you actually going out with the scavs? What about the forge," one of the men asked.

"I am, and I'm leaving it to Micheal until I return."

"Alright, well you be careful. Would really suck if you didn't make it back, ya' know?"

"Oh yeah? Well let's hope that if that does happen, that it will at least be a good story," Garsin finished with a chuckle as he waved farewell.

He finally made it to where everyone was gathered... just in time to see them starting to drive off. Garsin frantically started to make his way through the crowd when he decided upon a better idea. In a large bellowing voice he shouted over the chatty citizens around him. "PARDON ME, I'VE GOT A TRUCK TO CATCH!" Which startled a few of the people who hadn't known he was there but they did move out of the way all the same. Luckily, the enforcer knew Garsin and let him on through when he came running. It was quite a sight to behold, for sure. Something that big, running that hard, with that much momentum.... going nowhere fast. Sure it was a good deal faster than walking but they were pretty sure old man Cogner could outrun him given the right motivation. The personnel truck was just starting to move when Garsn jumped onto the back of it, grabbing the bar and taking a foothold on the bumper, making the whole thing rock to the side uneasily before readjusting for his weight.

"What the hell was that!?" the driver exclaimed.

"You didn't think y'all could get rid of me that easily did you," he said with a gut busting laugh. The driver while rolling his eyes turned back around and couldn't suppress a grin on his face. "The more the merrier I guess." Someone stood up and undid the back gate to let him in as they started driving again.

---

A few hours had passed and Garsin found himself outside the truck helping to clear some of the plant-life from their path. Using his bush ax, he cut down any extra growth that was in the way of the vehicles, helping to cut down on the time they spent stuck there. As he took a step back from his work he saw Eli in the humvee and waved to him, walking up to the humvee as he did so. He took out his canteen and pulled his helmet off, letting it hang in front of his chest by it's hose.

"How's it going, Eli," he said as he took a swig from his canteen. "Sorry I missed out on this morning's motivational speech, got tied up at the forge making sure everything was ready to go, nearly missed getting on the truck." Even though Garsin took this moment for a break to talk and get water, he was already looking around to see where he could help next, or if anything significantly odd stood out in the thick foliage. With his helmet off, he was able to get a better view at exactly what they were working with, and couldn't help to think of some concerns about the speed of their progress. After all, they passed a large sinkhole not too long ago and he didn't relish the idea of being even remotely close to it. "So how is our progress so far?"

Were it not for the impending sense of doom, there would be something almost peaceful about their surroundings. Of that, the twins are in complete agreement. The Earth of today is nothing like the Earth of six months ago. It's a landscape from any number of sci-fi series: wild, alien, magnificent, and not a bit threatening. As they gaze through the steel lattice of the protective cage, all manner of aberrations cross their fields of vision. The convoy hesitates for something that looks like a prehistoric Glyptodont, but easily three times the size, with a set of bullish blue horns and a long, prehensile tail ending in a scaly green bulge that resembles a snake's head. The unsettling appendage curls and uncurls sinuously, poking and slinking around in a startlingly sentient way.

A handful of minutes later, the forest erupts in motion as a massive swarm of tiny, monkey-like creatures moves through it. Their backs bristle with translucent quills in a poisonous orange, yellow, and green. Thousands of sharp black beaks lined with needle-like teeth let loose whoops and eerily trilling chirps in equal measure. Whole sections of the forest seem to shift and change colours as waves of the odd creatures, covered in iridescent feathers ranging from a deep turquoise, through navy blue, indigo, and deep purple, to an unsettling maroon move through the area. A handful, Amanda notices, are larger and bright orange, with tufts of yellow feathers or fur around their necks. Alphas, she thinks.

They avoid the thick, fleshy creature that slithers its way through the tangle just above the forest floor. It's like a cross between a stubby snake and a snail, but with thick, army green, claylike skin that would seem to be more at home on a hippopotamus. Its head is ensconced in thick bony armour with the exception of a pair of luscious, rubbery greyish-pink lips that seem to be constantly sucking at the air around them. Dozens of tiny, squishy appendages that resemble the 'feet' that cover the underside of a starfish writhe on its back, emitting occasional puffs of something steamlike and incredibly foul-smelling. Both twins plug their noses until it passes.

Finally, there are these weird, treelike...things that always grow in pairs. They look like two enormous, moss-covered (though it's obviously not moss) tree trunks that tower over three stories high, pockmarked at random by fluffy red spots that seem to have some sort of fleshy eye or mouth at their centers. But it's what lies between them that's truly unsettling: A creature that is little more than a torso that trails off into a short, scaly tail. Covered in green and black fur, with long, humanlike arms that stretch between the two trunks, it thrashes and wails out of a great fang-lined maw that irises open from an eyeless, misshapen head. The 'arms' seem to be fused with the trunks as if they're part of the same organism, and the towering green stacks bend and sway back and forth menacingly, though their bottoms seem fixed to the ground. They might even extend deep beneath the surface, Hannah shudders to think.

"My God," Amanda finally remarks. "These things are terrifying. You can't even call them freaks of nature. They're -"

"Yeah, that's our gig," Hannah interrupts.

Amanda regards her dimly. "They almost don't seem to be of this world."

The twins watch in silence for longer, until Amanda breaks it. "Hey sis."

"Uh huh?"

"Do you think we're the first people to see these things?"

Hannah furrows her brow and ponders for a moment. "I'd imagine not quite the first, but there can't have been many."

Nor many who lived to tell the tale. They both think it. Sometimes they share thoughts that way.

"We should name them," Amanda decides.

Hannah grins. It's a way to pass the time. "Okay, I'm game. What should we name that giant turtle-sloth-bull, snake-tailed thing?"

"A vine-tailed bulltank"

"You think there are other types of bulltanks out there?"

"Nope!" Amanda replies. "This one's just vine-tailed. Hmm...so how about those creepy monkey-bird things?"

"I thought they were kind of beautiful."

"Yeah, like in a devour you to the bone sort of way."

"Ah, that's it!" Hannah exclaims, "Piranha Monkeys!"

"I love it! And then there was the Kissing Steamsnail."

"YES!! So much yes!"

"And a wailing ape?"

Hannah purses her lips thoughtfully. "Nah..."

Amanda pretends to pout.

"How about Sampson's Pillars?"

"Going biblical?"

"This shit is pretty biblical. Like, have you ever read the Book of Revelation?"

"Only when you did..." Amanda lets that trail off. People are staring at them. Obviously, that's par for the course if you're Hannah and Amanda Sinclair, but nobody's said a word yet. Things go quiet for a bit. Two pairs of eyes observe their fantastical and forbidding surroundings.

"You know," Amanda breaks the silence, "I'm kind of glad we didn't get the turret."

"You're gonna dance all over my broken dreams," Hannah replies melodramatically.

"Nah." The self-recognized 'older sister' takes a sip of water from her bottle. She points at the lead truck through the cage. "Think about some of the crazy shit we've seen, and that position's exposed as all hell. If this were a game and not like...real life, the gunner's the first to go."

"How do you know it's not just some kind of game?" Hannah challenges.

"How do you know everything isn't a game, that there isn't some sweaty neckbeard on the other side controlling our every word and motion?"

Hannah takes a sip from her bottle as well. "That'd just be silly. There's some kind of reality out there, objective or not."

Amanda shrugs, and without even thinking, Hannah fulfills her half of the gesture.

After another hour or so, there's a break. People get out and stretch their legs. The twins don't have to be told twice. They're the first to bound out of the truck. Of course, the break isn't necessarily for leisure. A fallen building combined with some particularly thick plant growth is obstructing the convoy's passage, and people have started clearing it. Hannah and Amanda set to work with machetes and heavy workboots, crouched over the low-growing vines as they kill the pests.

Their stomach growls. "Is food a thing here?" Hannah gripes.

Amanda straightens the both of them up. "Bossman's in the truck ahead. Y'know asking beats complaining."

The others seem to have things well in hand. "Right. Yeah. Let's see what's for lunch."

The twins arrive just on time to hear Eli elucidate on their dinner to Roland. One of them is going to have to eat that for the both of them. "Not it!" they call simultaneously, each of them instantly touching their respective noses. That is not food. Hannah thinks. I'd rather eat a piranha monkey.

---

After finishing his cigar, Fred threw it on the mossy cement and stamped it out, starting to whistle. He pulled out his pocket watch and stared at it. "Two-thirty-six." he announced to some murmuring. It would be sun-down relatively soon, and without the lights of the skyscrapers and cars and everything else it would be darker than in what was now so easy to call "the good old days." Fred began to walk over to the vehicles, before some weird loud noise erupted from afar, yet too close for comfort. He was at this point climbing onto one of them and was knocked off; as he fell he slapped his hands down like a kiddie who just did karate and thought he was cool and then stood, leaning against the vehicle whilst clutching his head. Then he saw the first of them crawling from an alley, whoever the person was before shit hit the fan he was certainly big and buff, but the classification of the thing would be hard.

The man ran quickly to the driver of the car and shouted "Drive back, drive back now!" The man gave him a puzzled look thinking what just happened came from his headphones and then pulled them out. "Drive!" he screamed but the driver seemed to want confirmation of whether this should be and stepped out. By the time the man made six steps towards Eli already masses of the clicking things were coming. "You drive! Reverse the damn thing and lets get home! Come on!" he shouted, and the shocked man in the other seat went in place of his compatriot and hesitated a millisecond before putting the car in reverse and rather slowly making it go backwards. To the dismay of Fred, they were catching up. Fred stood and took aim from his pistol, turning on the laser sight. His hands swerved left and right, his palms began to sweat and his breathing got faster. There were too many targets, but all of them too far. People were already going down screaming, but he couldn't help. If he shot now he might miss, but this would attract more of the things specifically to him and his truck.

This was no time to play hero.

He lowered his pistol to wipe some sweat off of his forehead and then took aim once again as heroism overrode utilitarianism, but then lowered it. He hopped onto the trucks's side and held on to it's mirror and opened window with one hand, whilst holding his gun. It seemed that the new driver was someone who wanted to save his hide too, just like him and thought like him since he was driving back despite the fact that it had space for many more passengers, and those who couldn't make a turn of speed were getting left behind. People staying back and fighting - the fools - were blasting away massive supplies of bullets but the things were getting ever closer and the screams of pain Fred heard meant that for some people they got just a bit too close. Some idiot even shouted "Get back here you cowards!" but Fred did nothing but look for the zeds that broke through what little lines they had and were going for the truck. After a few shots he saw that they were starting to make some distance from the rest of the party despite the fact that more and more people were retreating and either catching up or begging the driver to slow down... he didn't. After a few more shots and the click of an empty magazine Fred looked at his pistol reflectively and then at the people still fighting.

They probably wouldn't hear him, but as the suspicious naturalist looked at the mounting casualties he simply said "I'm sorry."

Garsin noticed Hannah approach and found their reaction to the food block amusing. "Here," he said to them as he unclipped his pack from his armor. He was a little big, especially in armor, to toss the pack on and off, so instead the pack clung snug to his back by to straps that came over his shoulders and clipped in close to the clavicle, while a bottom strap ran across his torso to secure it down. Once he got it off, he rummaged through it and produced some strips of jerky in a plastic bag. "Take this," he offered the twins, "It may not be as filling and well rounded as the food block, but it should get get you by without the after taste," he finished with a chuckle.

He looked back over to see Eli starting his climb up the rubble as he clipped his bag back into place. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the vehicle. Once they made it through this, hopefully it will be pretty clear. They couldn't afford to run into too many of these. Once Eli was at the top, he saw him turn around and wave, to witch Garsin and a few people who also gathered to watch him climb up reciprocated.

BOOM!

Out of nowhere, there was an enormous explosion, almost as if lightning had struck the ground right next to him. It made him jump quite a bit, scanning around to see what it was or where lightning could have hit, but there was no sign in sight. He started to chuckle but then as soon as the hint of a grin started to show on his face it happened again, this time causing the unstable rubble where Eli was standing to fall. "I wish it would stop doing that," he commented gruffly.

By the time Garsin noticed Eli had even fallen, he was already getting back up. In fact, while he was on the way to help he couldn't do anything but stop as he noticed it was immediately growing dark as night. "That can't be right," he started, "What kind of storm..." He looked around and didn't see a storm, it had just turned dark, and they were slap in the middle of the city...which belonged to the ghouls. Looking over at Eli, it seemed like he was having a mental breakdown. He was right to, none of this made sense, even for a crazy world like this. But things only continued to get stranger as the twisted laughs of what sounded like a demented girl filled the forest. "OK," he murmured, eyes wide open scanning around for the source, "I don't mind the explosions so much now." He didn't know how right he was as it seemed millions of humming sounds assaulted his ears, increasing in intensity till it brought him down on a knee in pain, using the car to steady himself, eyes screwed shut. He gritted his teeth as he opened them, trying to see around them in case anything was visibly coming while they were down. His eyes teared up in the process, but at least nothing else seemed to be here yet. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it all stopped.

"Eli, I think we need to turn this around, now," he said looking over to the young man as he recollected himself as well. "That could have stirred up anything that was around here-," and just as he said it there was that long terrifying howl, "Dammit," he breathed. They have found them. And to make it worse, he was being answered by a whole freaking choir of howls. those explosions must have shaken every ghoul out of the buildings in the city. Eli was still there stunned, looking at the ruble as one of the creatures crested it, along with the sounds of hundreds in movement. Garsin shook his head in his own disbelief, taking his helmet in hand and placing it on, then securing it. It was about to get even uglier.

"Get back to the convoy, get everyone out of here!" Garsin shouted at the men gawking, jerking some of them out of it and shoving them into motion. The runners would be first, that they may be able to handle, but from the sounds of those footsteps, they didn't have long out here before they were overtaken. The first lines clashed viciously, some runners jumping on the backs of the people trying to flee, digging in tooth and claw as soon as they made contact. Runners seemed viscous an unthinking, almost relying on pure instinct to run up and kill as many as possible before the rest catch up. Garsin brought out his modified revolver as someone was brought down by two that jumped one of the riflemen. "Oh no you don't." Left-handed, Garsin quickly shot off three shots, killing one and knocking another off with the force of the impact. Pulling his bush axe from behind him in his right hand, he waited for the enraged creature to jump at him. Getting the timing just right, he brought the axe down on the vile thing, splitting deep into its torso from the shoulder down. This monster didn't want to give up, however, but that only earned it a heavy boot to come down on its head, which ended its struggle quit thoroughly. He then holstered his revolver for a moment and reached down to pick up the man, who had been luckier than others to live through being jumped. "I SAID GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" he roared, shoving the man toward the caravan which had already started to turn around.

Just as Garsin looked back at the rush of runners, he saw another two headed for him. He didn't have time to grab his gun again at the moment, so he took his weapon in two hands. The first one was just ahead of the other, and instead of commiting his blade to it and likely risk his attack stopping there, he took the bottom part of the handle in his right hand and bashed it against its face as it lunged forward, knocking it to the side. The second one then took its turn, leaping with both arms out stretched. Garsin blocked with the shaft of the axe between them, keeping its claws and teeth clear and then shoved it off, which gave him time to draw his gun again and put a bullet between the eyes as it started to get back up. As if to punctuate the scuffle, he then turned to the other and put one in its head for good measure.

Noticing no more runners, Garsin himself started to make his way to the caravan, but noticed that a few people were running away from it all together, including Eli. Looking back between the caravan and one of their leaders running the wrong way, he wasn't sure what to do. They couldn't afford losing him, as it was they had already lost enough people here. The main slew of ghouls started to crest the hill as Garsin made his way to Eli, who had hesitated for a moment to help put a few more runners down. There was enough time to pull a few more passengers on the truck, once it was loaded, there was no chance the ghouls could catch up, and there was still enough time to make it back to the truck. "Eli, the truck, this way. There is still ti-," but his jaw dropped as he saw a man jump in and start driving it off before people could get on. "NO! GET BACK HERE YOU COWARDS!" he bellowed. Later looking back on this he could sympathize with the man, because to him, the creatures were nipping at his heels and he made it out by the skin of his teeth. To Garsin however, they could have grabbed a few more people, and in the world they lived in, a few people could make a difference between life and death.

Cursing under his breath Garsin spun around to see where there was left to go. While a building could be full of more ghouls, there would be less in there than out here in the open where there were hundreds of them. "Eli! Get to the building!" he shouted, pointing at the nearest one as they didn't have much time left. "Everyone, over here!" he yelled out to any of the remaining survivors. Garsin started running full tilt toward the door, not a lot of speed, but a heck of a lot of momentum. He slammed into the door, busting it from the latch and throwing it open. He grunted as he felt the shock hit him, but he would be fine. Luckily there was another set of doors just past this one as to make a small area in older times to dry your feet off or keep weather from reaching inside to the foyer. They must have been in what used to be some store, but Garsin didn't give it any thought at the moment. All he saw is that it was clear inside, and he tried to lead them in and find a way to brace it.

He looked around himself and bumped into a humanoid figure next to him, then swung at it hitting it square in the temple, head flying off into the dark room. It was...a mannequin? So this was a clothing store. which means there were metal racks that held the clothes! by the time most the people made it threw the second set of doors that could make it, Garsin shoved a bunch of rods through the handles of the doors to hold them closed and buy them a moment to get farther away. "Is everyone alright? What the hell was that?"

Eli felt shell-shocked. Nothing existed in his mind except the sounds of war, gunshots and screams mixed with his own heavy breathing give soundless voice to his inner panic. His wild eyes searched the area around him, looking for safety, for shelter. Nothing jumped out at him except the bloodthirsty, twisted maw of a ghoul. The creature leapt at him from the side, careening into Eli and sending them both sprawling to the ground. The smells of acrid gun-smoke became obscured beneath a heavy overtone of rotting carcass. Eli grappled for his life, struggling to keep the ghoul's snapping jaws away from his everything. Even then, on the ground, Eli could hardly grasp the situation. He'd always been so careful, so concise with his plans, that it had actually been some time since he'd had a run in with ghouls. Even when he took the civvies out, everything was executed methodically. So how had it come to this? Where had this sudden darkness sprung from? A woman interrupted his thoughts as her bloodied body hit the ground a few feet from him. The sickening sounds of flesh tearing and snapping off was enough to tell Eli that whoever that woman was, she was nothing more than a meal now.

He pushed the ghoul back with every ounce of strength he could muster. As the ghoul stumbled back and fell into a crouch, ready to jump once more onto its prey, Eli whipped his sidearm out from his chest holster and put a round through its head. However, there was no sense of accomplishment or relief as the literal tide of bodies behind it began to draw increasingly closer. The only thing that had helped Eli survive this long was that the ghouls were too busy tripping over themselves, and the pile of rubble, to really form an effective charging wall. Instead it was more like a milling pile of bodies, slowing wrenching themselves free or tumbling far enough away that they could easily rise again. Eli scrambled to his feet, and nearly ran headfirst into a Humvee screaming back down the way they had come in reverse. Vaguely he heard someone shouting his name. It was just then that Eli noticed his ears were ringing.. still ringing? He took a quick look around, his eyes grazing across the flaming wreckage of one of the trucks before he saw Garsin of all people directing some of the stragglers into a nearby building. No, of all people it would be Garsin. Eli followed suit.

Once the doors were closed Eli let himself take a few quick breaths to calm down and assess the situation. Jesus fuck I panicked like some fresh-faced rookie, he admonished himself as he took stock of how many people had made it. He managed to count six before the doors behind him began jarring violently. Garsin seemed to holding himself together better than Eli had and managed to get a bar through the door handles. What would Vicks think? he thought, scolding himself once more. Deciding that he was done berating himself Eli turned his attention back to the building they were in. Hopefully the doors would hold long enough for them to make a quick exit, or perhaps something else would come along to distract the ghouls outside—As morbid as that thought was. Otherwise, there wasn't much that would help them in here, clothing racks seemed like a poor barricade.

"I never took you for a quick thinker Garsin," Eli commented, feeling a bit more like his usual self. He straightened the straps to his chest harness unnecessarily and pulled a plan together in his mind, "Why don't you grab a few people and see if you can reinforce those doors a little, and be quiet about it. I see two of my boys over there, I'll leave one with you and I'll take the other to see about a rear exit to this place."

Eli took the other soldier, Recruit Thanes, and headed towards the rear of the store. It wasn't all that big, but Eli still kept his gun ready, and his head on a swivel. Especially since Garsin killed that mannequin, it was hard to tell what was what in the gloomy dimness inside the building. He heard the soft whispers of grass against his pants as he moved through, which prompted him to be more careful lest he trip over a stray vine—Something that nearly happened a few times as he and Thanes pushed their way into the back-stock area. The only things his flashlight highlighted of note were piles of decaying boxes, musty half-eaten clothes, and a small crowd of cheerfully creepy mannequins. Eli felt that there had never been another moment in his life where he hated mannequins so much, a thought that Thanes voiced quietly himself.

"There's the exit," Eli whispered as he motioned the green municipal door with his light. They stacked up on either side of it, and on Eli's count he cracked the door open. Thanes swept through, gun at the ready as he pivoted into the alley, quickly checking both sides.

"Cear," he announced softly.

Eli followed him out into the garbage strewn alleyway. A soft breeze was carrying through, whipping up dust and small debris in small flurries as it came through.

"Stinks," Thanes said. Eli could practically feel the boy wrinkling his nose, despite facing away from him. There was something odd about that though. Thanes was right, the whole alleyway was ripe with the smell of rotting garbage and.. and..

"Fuck, Thanes! Back Inside!" Eli commanded, though he tried to keep his voice down.

Thanes turned, confusion twisted across his face. "Wha-?" He started, but the words died off and gave way to a scream as a Stalker knocked him off of his feet. The creature had Thanes pinned to the ground, grappling his back with all for limbs like some sort of deranged animal and was ignoring Eli entirely as it tore of meaty chunks from Thanes neck. His screams became watery gurgles before Eli could even draw his knife and close the relatively short distance between them. His blade was poised in the air, just above the creature, a breath away from descending down into its spinal cord when a childish giggle and a series of loud, angry grunts stopped him short. He had only paused for a moment, but as he went back to finish the Stalker it was already scuttling away up the opposite wall.

Still wary of the Stalker, Eli looked around the alley for the source of the laughter. A small, tiny silhouette darted past the eastern exit of the alley. A moment later a larger, more adult looking figure followed suit. They both appeared to be running.. somewhere. It was away from here, and Eli was alright with that. He went back inside and pulled the door shut behind him, though he was still unnerved as he listened to the child's giggle fade off into the distance.

"The exit seems clear, but a Stalker got Thanes.. we'll need to be vigilant," He announced somewhat quietly as he strode back into the main area. The few people gathered there were all huddled together, their terrified and weary eyes looked like they were desperately searching every dark shadow for potential danger. Worst yet, there only seemed to be a few real weapons in their collective possession.

"Take us home." Fred shouted to the driver as they were nearing a spot they could reverse in, blasting a few ghouls with his pistol. It wasn't a pretty sight with all them people gettin' eat, but some idiot though they'd survive it by holing up in some building. They sure as hell were not going to make it and were only surviving on hope and desperation, but perhaps that was all they needed. "Sorry Slim, we... [i]I[i/] had no choice." He shouted after Garsin, probably not heard. 

"Alright turn it 'round!" Fred told the driver, climbing over onto the other side and hopping into the passenger seat. He looked to the radio, then at the mass of ghouls trying to get in the building with the people he left back. At least he could do something for them. He shot a few of the ghouls going after the people, then turned on some music - random shit you'd expect in a bar of some hillbillies, maybe upper class hillbillies - before waving the man to take them home. Instinctively the Canuck lit up a cigar and put it in his mouth, waiting a while before taking a puff. "And yet it didn't have to be like this. Look jack, Eli's a fine man and all but we come back to refuge with a half full truck and we're pretty fucked in terms of public opinion. People are going to be spitting in our food bars and such, though I guess that might be considered an improvement. When we get back, it wasn't our fault you hear? It was Eli and the others who though they were tough shit and got us encircled like that by not paying attention not the time and all. We tell 'em all that we grabbed what we could before the ghouls blocking our path. Seeing what happened, even if they do survive I reckon it'll be only one or two and it's our word against their's while there'll be more of us. But just in case, keep our story vague. Right?" Finally, a massive inhalation of the cigar's smoke came, and blowing it out to fill up the whole enclosure. 

Fred heard a mutter of protest and grinned. "Maybe we're setting up the other people but who cares? We're ordinary civilians, we don't know shit and have IQ lower than the room temperature in freaking celsius right? Who can blame us for panicking? Nobody, but the organizers of this fuckfest can be blamed and we are just poor folks trying to save our hides. We acted rationally and should defend our position." This seemed a little more satisfactory to the driver as they rode on back and then Fred reached over to turn off the music completely. "Right, we got some heat off of them but we don't want to bring home a load of drooling ghouls with knife, fork, and fucking spoon. I've been wanting to make a bar in this dump, do well and you might get yourself the first taste of hooch we had here in a while ya hear?" 

As they neared "home," Fred rubbed his face to proverbially and literally rub the shame off of his face. "Give them a few honks." He said stepping out. "Let's hope we won't end up being part of some rescue party." He added after the driver honked, and the rather small party of the more athletic or just selfish people disembarked from the automobile, waiting for their fate. Another thought struck Fred: if Eli didn't come back there'd be a large power vacuum.