“Who are those men?” the father asked.

“We think they are bandits,” Bill answered. “I want all of you to get down on the floor right now. Keep your heads down and keep as close to the floor as possible.”

“I thought you said my family would be safe!” The young father with his scraggly black hair looked both frightened and angry.

“They will be. Just get down!”

The pursuing truck was moving in fast.

Katarina looked back to see that their passengers were nervously obeying. She usually loved rescue missions. The expressions on people's faces as they finally saw other humans, their sense of relief at being safe and the exclamations of thanks made it all worth the risk.

Usually on rescue missions, they had to fight zombies, but this felt worse somehow. Fighting other humans in a dead world was just wrong.

The truck was now pulling up beside them. Katarina could clearly see the mud and gore spatters over its roughened side. What appeared to be bullet holes pockmarked the truck bed. She flicked the safety off on her rifle and took a breath.

Bill glanced over into the cab of the truck as it pulled up close and began to pace them. A scruffy man with lots of wild blond hair rolled down the window and began to shout at them. It didn't take a lip reader to see he was yelling at them to pull over.

Bill shook his head and pressed his foot down.

Again, the truck pulled up. The scruffy guy leaned out of the window and literally knocked on Bill's window. His voice was barely heard above the whine of the road and the wind.

“We want to be friends with you,” he was yelling. “We want to be friends!” But his look was too wild and he looked at Katarina in a way that made Bill want to bash his teeth out with his rifle butt.

Glancing over at the unkempt man, Bill said, “Sorry. Gotta keep moving.” And he floored the mini-van.

The children were now crying and their parents were trying to shush them. The Reverend was praying softly.

Katarina made sure her seat belt was on tight and watched the truck anxiously. The guy who was banging on the window had crawled back into the cab and was talking with the driver.

“We're almost to the bridge,” Bill said to her. “We have to beat them there.” The van had pulled ahead enough for Bill to swerve in front of the truck. He wasn't sure who had souped up the min-van, but he felt like hugging them at this moment. The engine was roaring. So far, it was handling fine.

The truck gunned it, then swerved sharply in front of them.

“Shit,” Katarina whispered.

“They plan to trap us at the bridge,” Bill said grimly.

The children were crying louder now. Bill didn't even want to think about what these men may do to the kids, their mother, or Katarina.

Katarina took a deep breath, then said, “We need to do something now.”

“Can you pull a Nerit and shoot out the tire?” Bill knew that Katarina had been training faithfully with the former Israeli sniper.

Katarina furrowed her brow, then said, “I'll try.” She immediately began to roll down the window.

Bill concentrated on the road and kept the van steady. The truck was speeding ahead of them, kicking up dirt, heading straight into the sunset.

Katarina slid out and perched herself in the window. The Reverend scrambled forward and grabbed hold of her legs to keep her steady and provide a human safety line. Trying to balance herself, Katarina took aim at a tire.

“Don't swerve,” she yelled at Bill.

There was a long pause, then Katarina fired. The shot hit the camper and shattered the back window.

“Shit!”

She aimed again, trying to adjust for the speed, and the bumpiness of the road. A face appeared in the shattered window. It was a young girl, maybe thirteen. Her face was badly bruised and caked with blood.

Her hands were tied in front of her and her mouth was gagged. She tried to wave at them.

“Sweet Jesus,” the Reverend whispered.

Bill felt his gut coil as he stared at the captive in the back of the truck. He couldn't let her fate fall on any of those in his care.

Katarina saw the girl as well and hesitated, but the cries of the children behind her were a reminder of what they had to lose.

“Do it,” Bill said in a ragged voice.

She fired.

The truck tire unrolled like a ribbon and vehicle careened wildly.

The girl fell back out of sight. The driver fought the wheel, which tipped the truck. The camper went flying off the back and into the gorge that bordered the road. The truck slammed onto its side and went sliding off the road in a shower of sparks.

Directly ahead was the bridge.

Katarina struggled back into her seat and said thanks to the Reverend. She looked sick to her stomach, but took a deep breath to steady herself.

“You had to,” Bill said, and tried not to think of the girl's face.

“I know,” Katarina whispered. “I know.”

The mini-van roared over the bridge, then sped around a hill. The hotel in all its lighted glory came into view. He sighed with relief.

“Almost home,” Bill assured the people clustered behind him.

Katarina picked up the CB. “We're almost home. We had some issues, so please keep us covered.”

“I copy that and am passing on the word,” Peggy's voice answered, then said more softly, “What kind of issues?”

“Bandits” Katarina answered. “It's the bandits.”

4. Watching the Board

The gates closed behind the mini-van. The newcomers were quickly ushered into the hotel. Just like that, the excitement was over.

Jenni watched through the binoculars as the man who had been watching the fort turned and vanished into the darkness. She never saw the stranger’s vehicle leave town.

She dutifully reported in to Nerit, then settled in to wait.

She waited…and waited.

They all waited.

Everyone in the fort, on pins and needles, waited.

The minutes, full of tension, full of fear, ticked by, right until they turned into hours.

“What do you think is going on” Travis asked Nerit at around four AM in the morning. His eyes were bloodshot. He was gulping coffee.

Nerit was taking slow, luxurious drags off her cigarette. “I have been thinking about it and I have a theory.”

“What is it?” Bill asked.

They stood on a sentry platform near the gate.

“Their plans went awry,” Nerit said simply.

“And?” Travis arched an eyebrow.

“That is all for now,” Nerit answered. “They're done for now.”

Morning came.

The shifts rotated. Travis and Katie fell asleep in their clothes, guns nearby, a tangle of limbs as they held tightly to each other.

Jenni slept fitfully and woke up to prowl the roof again with Katarina.

Still, there was nothing.

And the day slipped away without incident.

Then another.

Followed by another, then another.

“Time to see if my theory is right,” Nerit said after another day passed. “We leave in the morning. Bill, Travis, and Jenni are coming with me.”

The next day, the gates slid open and Nerit's new pride and joy, the Mann's H2, roared out into the town. The Manns had been furious when they were told in no uncertain terms they needed to relinquish the vehicle to assist in the security of the fort. Nerit had fastened her steely gaze on them and said, “Do you really think you can just jump in it and go shopping? Because you can't.” Finally, they had handed over the keys.

Nerit drove, Travis at her side, Bill and Jenni in the back. It was far too luxurious for Nerit's taste, but it drove well and would get them to where they needed to be. If the bandits did arrive, Nerit's crew had a vehicle they could take off the road with relative ease. She was glad that the Mann's had bought the top-of-the-line H2. It would survive off-roading with ease.

“I could so get used to driving something like this.” Jenni grinned.

She was happy to be out of the fort and doing something and not just sitting around waiting for something to happen.

“Up ahead is where they went off the road, Nerit,” Bill said solemnly.

Travis sat in the front seat, rubbing his brow. He looked haggard, the stress eating away at him.

“Keep a look out,” Nerit said. “We don't need them sneaking up on us.”

“Who? Zombies or bandits?” Jenni turned and looked out the back window.

“Both,” Nerit answered.

As the Hummer glided over the bridge, Travis looked down into the river to see a zombie, in fishing gear, wading through the water still clutching its fishing pole.

The skid marks on the asphalt told where the truck lost control and gone off the road. Nerit pulled over. They all cautiously disembarked.

There was a deep gorge on one side of the road. It appeared the truck had slid right down into it. As they drew near the edge of the road, they saw that both the camper and truck were logged firmly in the trees that grew up out of the deep crevasse in the earth.

“It fuckin' stinks of the dead,” Jenni moaned.

“Let’s check it out,” Nerit said, and started downward.