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The Wastelands are a dangerous place, the Interstates are no exception. Littered with abandoned US Army Checkpoints, unexploded munitions from the Nuclear War, Demons, Scourged and their booby traps, plane wrecks and leaking tankers. Traversing these areas demands highly skilled operators with tight trigger discipline, ample stocks of supplies and unwavering focus. Loosing sight of ones objective is all but a death sentence.

Though I spent my time with the US Army in Antarctica on some of the last operations of the war, there was a brief time, a span of I'd like to say about five or six months, when I was in Africa working with a Catholic Mission as a civilian contractor. Between the African capital city of Kantza and the hellscape known as Bapan, there's a 40 mile length of highway known as The Highway Of Death. Much like the highway in Iraq, this too was littered with mines, IED's and various other unexploded munitions. Due to the German Blitzkrieg against the Asian-African Federation lasting literally until the hour the bombs fell, this highway was lined with both, German and African snipers, not to mention Animals armed with SS-SA launchers looking specifically to kill vehicles and heavy equipment such as road working machines and supply carriers. You did, of course, have the African Rebels in the mix too, laying ambushes for Federation convoys and soldiers with the help of German troops. It didn't help at all that the highway was a major civilian highway at the time as well. At times I could cut the tension at the Church with a fuckin' knife. Gunshots in the distance had me ripping out of bed and scrambling for my M4 and plate carrier in the middle of the night while displaced civilians and wounded soldiers would start freaking right out. Honestly, who could blame them? These days, I could apply just about every one of those things I saw in Africa to the Interstates. Following the first wave of bombs, they had clogged right the fuck up, Animals trying desperately to escape their cities before the shit was bombed into the next dimension by the South Americans or the Chinese. Because of this, of course the Interstates and Major highway's had been targets of a multitude of variants of nukes as well as the war crime of a bomb, the ZR-5. You might be sold on the idea that driving anywhere would be faster than walking or even flying if you a winged sort of creature. Now, prewar, that might have been true. Post war, however, this was no longer the case. Navigating the road blocks of quietly rusting cars the world forgot became far more difficult on four wheels than four legs or two feet. You could mostly follow the roads on foot even if they were covered in old cars, where as if you were driving you'd have to have at least a clear lane to go around them and still follow the road. Otherwise you have to take side roads, back roads exits and feeders just to get to where you're going. This had largely been what our travel time consisted of as of late. Drive for a few miles on clear roads, come to a jam, someone has to get out and lead the convoy on foot. Two days had passed since we'd left our camp in the ruins of that unnamed town. According to the Tundra's Trip A odometer, we'd traveled 620 miles since then, but in reality we'd maybe covered like half of that. Since then, our situation hadn't improved. The heat had been brutal and in the recent hours the wind was beginning to pick up, seeming to suggest that a sandstorm was imminent. There was evidence that they'd blown through before, given that the sides of the cars that were facing outward towards the wastelands were somewhat smoothed. Still rusted, but smoothed. Today had been especially windy, and the last thing I wanted was to be caught out here in a fuckin' sandstorm, so trust me when I tell you we were moving with a purpose.

We hadn't had a respite from the constant fighting that had begun since leaving James' house either. We played games of on again off again ambush with the Scourged, often with no indication or advance warning, swarms of the fuckers would descend on us. Given the availability of 9mm ammunition in the group, we'd mostly resorted to using our handguns against them, so at least we'd have our rifles if something big came along. The trailer had been a godsend, since it allowed us to do rotating shifts where half of us watched while the other half slept, meaningfully. Knowing there was a sheet of armored wall between myself and the wasteland, as well as some of the most skilled shooters and best friends I'd ever known when I put my head down at night was better than any sleeping drug. It didn't negate other issues that we had, IE, hygiene, ammunition, water, but it helped keep me from killing things. We had managed to get through the second night and into the early morning hours of the third day without any real trouble, so, slightly more rested than we had been as of late, everyone was up early.

"Forgive my curiosity, but how many miles have we covered since we left my place?", James asked, leaning against the trailer with a cup of coffee in his hands.

"The Tundra says 620, the Atlas tells me more like 310-350", Eirren said biting into a large strip of freeze dried bacon, "but with the way the roads have been kind of clearing up, should beable to put some down today."

"One week to go three hundred fuckin' miles", I sighed, "pre-war we could have done this trip twice over and started work on the house in that time."

"There wasn't the risk of being poisoned by radiation, starving, dehydrating, gang green or being eaten either", James shrugged, sipping his coffee.

"James, I can't even count the ways I don't need that right now", I told him, "we've got too far to go and it's too early in the morning for me to be wanting to chew someone's head off."

"Fair enough boss", James shrugged.

"How much you wanna cover before we stop tonight?", Zack asked.

"Preferably 200 miles. Real miles, towards our destination, not filler resulting from bad roads", I said, "if we can. If not, whatever we can do between now and midnight."

"We makin' that the new cut off time?", Shannon asked.

"Should", Benjamin said, "I mean it's not like we're on any kind of real schedule."

"Doesn't matter to me so much", Nat agreed, "but maybe it's just agreeing with Ben."

"Sounds like a good enough plan", Zack shrugged.

"I was kidding about making that the cut off time", Shannon said defensively.

"We'll just have to wait and see what happens. For now, let's just keep pushing south, stopping for supplies and fuel as needed."

"Sounds fair", Eirren agreed.

"Yup", Ben replied.

James nodded in approval as he finished his coffee, "aight, I'mma go burn one and then I'm ready to go."

"Hurry up. Wind's blowing and I don't wanna get caught out in a sandstorm."

What little we had dragged out to cook breakfast was cleaned and returned to it's proper place. As final preparations to move out were made, trash was thrown into the fire and buried, handguns were checked and vehicles were started. From the driver's seat of the Tundra, I watched James throw his cigarette into the sand, bury it with the sole of his boot and flash me a thumbs up as he headed for his rig. The Tundra awoke with a snort and a cloud of black soot spit forward in a clump from the exhaust. I put it in first and eased it off the sand onto the pavement with James close behind me.

"Hey Eirren?", I asked.

"Yeah?", She replied, not taking her face out of the Atlas.

"Where we go from here to get back on I-81?"

"Mmm", She mused, "we can just follow State 451 a few miles and there's a EZ-Tag route that'll take us right there."

"There's one thing I don't miss", I thought aloud.

"EZ-Tag?"

"Yep. They had the shit installed all up and down the Sam Houston Highway back home. Good thing about EZ-Tag now is that all those roads are just about bare. If we can find a way into the tollway when we reach Houston, we can take it right to 288 and I can get us home from there."

"I guess you know 288 well huh?"

"You could say that yeah", I answered, "used to drive it a lot towards Houston, either for runs to the surplus store or for work to vendors. Just depended on the day, but yeah, know it well. Well enough that just passing the sign that said Highway 288 was enough to know exactly where I was at. Damn...I can't wait to park this big ass truck on my fuckin' front lawn."

"I gotta ask, what about this one area means so much to you?", she asked.

I paused for a moment, in truth, I wasn't sure that I knew the answer.

"Not sure I could answer that question honestly Eirren", I shrugged.

"Fair enough", she seemed to agree, "and speaking of honesty, I'mma tell you something in confidence, so figure out how the fuck you found this out."

"What ya got?", I asked.

"Nat and Benjamin were talking last night", she said, "I didn't hear all of it, but Nat is fucking terrified."

"Of?"

Eirren hesitated, "I'm not sure if it's of, for, or a mixture of both."

"Aight then, what's she terrified of and or for?"

"Her pups."

I thought for a moment, "well, can you blame her? After what Medusa did to her and her family? If I went through something like that and then got you pregnant I'd be fucking terrified for my kids too."

Eirren sighed and rubbed her face, "No, bro you don't get it. Her kids, they fuckin' kicked her awake twice last night."

I didn't have an answer for that right away, as it took me a second to actually realize the context behind that sentence.

"That's not possible. Even if she and Ben got down to business that same night he turned up, there's no fuckin' way her kids are that far along already."

"I doubt that normal biological law applies to Nat or Benjamin, or James for that matter. Ari she is seriously fretting about this. She's wondering if it has to do with the fact her body is full radiation."

"Has she talked to Shannon about this?", I asked, "do you know?"

She shook her head, "dunno. But you're kinda the commanding officer here. I figured that this was purulent information for you to have."

"Yeah, thanks for lettin' me know. I'll talk to her about it later."

"Don't mention me."

"Never."

She paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath, "on a kinda related note, can I ask you something personal?"

"Yep. Shoot."

"When all this is over, once the truck is parked in the driveway and we've got a solid roof over our heads. We can be parents right? Think about how much you want to see home again", She told me, "that's how much I want a little dragon to call me Mommy."

"Eirren, I'd be happy to help you make that a reality once this is over."

Now, I wish I could tell you that the rest of the day was filled with insightful conversations between Eirren and myself. If I did, I'd be lying my tail off. Yes, the morning started out well, all was quiet for I'd like to say about two hours after we hit the road. By we'll say eleven thirty, we saw the first Biomass. Tiny little thing, about the size of a large snake. It was dragging itself across the road in a way that made me think of a wad of that yellow vinyl construction tape being blown across the highway by a stiff breeze. Creepy looking, sure, but not a threat. The Tundra didn't even bounce on it's springs when I hit the thing. By 12:15, we'd seen three more. Still smaller than the ones we'd seen in the plant, but much larger than the first one I'd hit. By one in the afternoon, it had become increasingly obvious that this part of the country was fuckin' infested with them. These things were mutated in ways even worse than what I'd seen in plant. Because of this, I'd started to suspect that what was in the air at the plant may have hindered whatever kind of horrific shit the Biomass was, to a point at least. The ones at the plant were sort of recognizable as the Animals they used to be. These? These were truly awful looking monsters that could only be described as brutalized roadkill had been left to rot in a ditch partially filled with water, in the blazing sun, then exposed to super cancer and enough parasites to make lesser vultures vomit at the mere sight of it.

At first, it was easy enough to avoid them by just driving past. A few of them were moving at a decent enough clip to manage to get tendrils around a part of either the Tundra or the Rig, but rotten, cancerous flesh isn't exactly a match for a 5700 pound Tundra putting 900 to the pavement. One PM rolled around before too long. Despite the fact we were neck deep in Biomass shit, there were complaints about low fuel, Animals needing to get out and stretch, use the restroom and just in general get out of their vehicles.

I consulted with Eirren, "Eirren, given recent landmarks, where's the nearest town."

She consulted the Atlas, clicking her tongue as she looked across the page.

"5 Miles east", she said, "Next exit. Jacobstown according to the Atlas, it's a truck stop town. Good target for fuel."

"Next exit", I said, "truck stop town, should be a good fuel target."

"And some snacks", Nero added.

"Little dude's right on that one", Ben added.

"Here, here", Shannon said.

"Rodger that", James said hanging up his radio.

Minutes later, an old green sign, covered in rust, sand speckled with a few bullet holes was pointing to an exit. It could still be seen advertising, a Saffron Cafe, Morgans Restaurant, a Motel 6.8 and Jacobs Truck Stop with a shell clean diesel station. Good. I'd heard good things about shell diesel. I picked up the radio again, steering the Tundra towards the off ramp.

"Hey Zack, are the stories about Shell Diesel being a superior fuel true?", I asked.

"I've heard the rumors. Haven't heard anything contrary, never seen any solid proof though. Doubt the trucks'll care, they burn my homemade shit they'll burn real stuff."

"Good enough for me, Arien out."

The off ramp took us to a road that curved back slightly in the way we had just come before opening up into a four lane as we entered Jacobstown. The sign, though rusted, could still be read "Jacobstown: Founded 1803, the Traveler's rest stop. Population: 7,510." Mainstreet was clogged halfway, the way into the city was clear, if maybe it had 3 years worth of loose trash blowing around, while the way out of the city was stopped. The point of congestion was a military checkpoint that still bore the final stage of what had happened to plug it for good. An M1 Abrams bearing scorch marks and broken treads and a Dodge Ram parked next to it with a huge welding rig on the back. When I drove by it, I laid eyes on two skeletons on top of the tank, one of which had a rusted SKS and the other had the torch.

"Now...I'm guessin' those are guys who are dead on top of the tank. I'd imagine it takes quite the large set to try and get into an Abrams with a torch.", Nat commented over the radio.

"Looks like it didn't end too well", James sighed.

"For any involved it looks", Benjamin noted, "tanks got welts on the front turret that weren't caused by normal small arms. Looks like a launcher did that."

"Arm & Assist was a fuckin' disaster", Nat sighed, "great idea in theory, too many bad animals took advantage."

"Comin' from Nat, that shit means something", Ben said.

"I tend to agree. Was nice for proper firearms to be getting into the hands of Animals that needed it, but two or three bad eggs and you get a barricade murder."

"Yep", Eirren sighed.

We navigated through the barricades and check points set up through the town, which required more off road travel than on, until eventually we made it to the shell station. On the sign, set against the dirty brown background of the sky, a tattered white bed sheet had a warning slathered across it in bright red paint "FUEL AVALIBLE TO MILITARY ANIMALS ONLY! CIVILIANS WILL BE SHOT!" And wouldn't you know it, the station was the sight of a massacre. Several dozen bleached skeletons laid sprawled in the sun, well within the killing field of the M134 that was setup behind a concrete barricade.

"Fuckin' hell", I sighed pulling the Tundra to a stop, just on the edge of the killing field. The desert air greeted me with open arms as I opened the door, dropping my sunglasses over my eyes as I slid out. My boots hit the pavement with a thud and the door shut with a thunk. It wasn't like I hadn't seen this kind of shit before, but it was a stark reminder that when times got tough, Animals with the guns were the ones who made the rules.

"Think that sign applies to us?", Eirren quipped.

"Doubtful", I shrugged, "if anyone was home, they'd have been wise to have been on that 134 before we pulled up."

Nero tugged on my pants leg.

"What's up buddy?", I asked.

"What's an M134?", He asked, looking up towards my general direction.

I bent down to pick him up, "old gun that can shoot three thousand bullets in a minute."

"Cool!"

"Sure is", I agreed.

"When you're on the right end of it at least", Benjamin added.

"Let's try not to disturb these guys", I motioned to the skeletons, "maybe if we don't they'll not realize we're here."

Ben looked at me quizzically. I pointed to Nero with my thumb and mouthed, "he don't need to know."

Ben flashed a half gloved thumb in acknowledgment as we moved past the corpse field and into the fenced perimeter of the truck stop. It had been occupied by military forces at a point in time, given the two tanks frozen in time under a covered area, it had no pumps. Other military vehicles were parked in lines in the parking lot and sandbag posts with camo netting shaders were scattered around. There were bodies strewn all across the parking lot, US Military, Russian Military, Civilian alike. They were in various states of decay, with surprisingly little stink, given the amount of them laying around. Spent brass and empty magazines cluttered the ground like gravel, some of which my friends couldn't help but pickup.

"Wonder what kinda shit went down here?", Zack commented swiping a magazine of 5.45 from the ground, "check this out, mag's half loaded."

"I'm almost keen on thinking that there must have been infighting here", Eirren said as we continued to march towards the fueling station.

"We oughtta be checking' these bodies", Nat suggested, "might still be good ammunition on 'em."

"Not a bad idea", Eirren agreed.

Though I didn't voice my agreement, I checked my fair share of corpses, stuffing pmags from various fallen Russians and Americans into the empty spaces on my vest. I'd fill my regular magazines when I could find the time. As we continued our march towards the fueling station, Nat turned to me.

"Okay there boss? Been awfully quiet today."

"Just thinking Nat", I shrugged.

"About?", She inquired.

"I dunno if this is the case universally, but here it looks like the US Army went to war with itself. Russians get caught in the middle and angry civi's used the opportunity to storm the base. Look how few plain clothes dead there are to military dead."

"If that's true, and I'm not saying it is, but if that were the case", Zack began, "why? I mean think about that for a second. Nukes have just wiped out the world, what would drive these animals to fight each other when the US and Russia have been declared allies since the early 1800's?"

"Dunno", I stated, raising my M4 as we neared the fueling station, "Lack of rations, water, radiation meds, never know these days."

We stacked up on the entrance into the fueling station. The smell of the biomass inside gave it away long before it's inane ramblings came into earshot. Through the bars on the glass door of the convenience store, I could see the Biomass near the beverage coolers. It was a smaller one, still recognizable as the wolf it used to be, for the most part at least. The Biomass had grown as a tumor on it's back, attached to that poor wolf by a series of fibrous roots of various thicknesses that disappeared deep into his neck and back. The wolf had no arms left and was manipulating the three dead soldiers he was holding onto by means of the growths protruding from the lump of the biomass growing on it's back. His eyes were glazed over and he had various bite marks out of his head with the mass growing up and around his neck and the bottom of his jaw like a fuckin' restraining collar. It didn't speak with it's mouth, rather, it's vocal cords seemed to have been relocated to a growth outside of it's neck. When it spoke, it's entire body inflated and deflated like a fuckin' party balloon in the most unnatural way I'd ever seen an entity move.

"You MUST respect", the biomass said, making the body dressed in a tattered Russian infantry uniform move and crudely wave, "I demand it. Debts! Debts! DEBTS! You owe them many! Bring forth! That you may pay with blood! Obey or suffer!"

"Good god almighty", James whispered, "the hell is this damn thing on about?"

"Can't pay...nothing left. Spare", The biomass said waving the other two corpses.

"No! Paid in full! I demand it! Execute!"

The biomass discarded the Russian and then proceeded to rip the other two bodies into ribbons and pick the Russian's corpse back up, which it made look in my direction.

"Have you come to deliver payment?", It asked, making the skeleton point at us.

"Well fuck", I growled, "Everyone back up, watch your flanks and don't let it touch you. Let it come out and check your fire."

We backed up in opposite directions of each other, fanning out into a large semi circle as the biomass slugged forward awkwardly, still dragging the Russian's corpse like a fuckin' porcelain doll. It covered it's eyes with a tendril as soon as it stepped out into the light. James was the first to cut loose, firing a three round burst from his HCAR into the Wolf's head. The damage his rounds inflicted on the wolf's skull would be more than sufficient to kill a living Animal about six times over. Yet, even with craters the size of my fist in the back of it's head, it still spoke.

"Why would you do this? It's very rude."

James cut loose the second the thing twitched, 16 rounds of .30-06 fired on full auto into the wolf's upper chest. If nothing else, that round getting out of that barrel at this range was unbelievably destructive, perhaps only slightly more so than the hurricane of super heated gasses that James' rifle expelled whenever a round exited the muzzle. The Biomass, for all it was worth, tried to take the rounds standing, but, with essentially the top half of it's body reduced to a pulp of viscous fluids and flesh at it's feet, didn't stay standing long. It wobbled, slurred something incoherent and then dropped on it's face, twitching for a moment before going still.

"Hit it again", Nat suggested, "I don't think it's dead yet."

"Down Nat", Eirren said, "there's no way it isn't."

"After that there isn't a whole lot that wouldn't be", James said rotating his magazines.

"Can I just add that nothing should be able to stand up to four rounds of .30-06 blacktip at point blank range and still be able to speak in complete sentences?", Benjamin huffed.

"Nothing pleasant at least."

"Hey, be thankful it wasn't Goliath all over again.", Shannon noted as we moved into the interior. Trashed was an understatement. Shelves had been turned over, product had been ripped from packaging and scattered, windows in coolers had been broken and wires and piping hung out of the drop ceiling like spider webs.

"Looks like a fucking bomb went off in here", Eirren noted.

"Wouldn't surprise me if it's seen one or two frags", Nat commented, "three if we we're getting into some heavy combat."

"Three sounds about right", James added, crouching down to sort through a pile that at first glance just looked like common trash, "does this place even still have power?"

"Doubtful."

"Gonna be hard to fill the trucks without working pumps", Shannon commented as she and Nat lifted one of the fallen shelves with Zack's help.

"Not really", Zack said, "there's plenty of ways to get fuel from a military base built around a gas station."

"Plenty of ways to get fuel from a gas station", I said searching through the register, it'd been one busy day either when the bombs fell, the night before or the day before the base had succumbed to infighting, register was full, "there's three inches of gas in the bottom of all those tanks, five gallon buckets on ropes, hand pumps, dropping jerry cans right into them."

"Arien", Shannon asked, "the hell are you doing?"

"Making it rain", I said folding the money up and sticking it into the pocket on my combat pants, "Money's still good."

"Bro, what kinda drugs are you doing behind our backs?", Shannon asked, "it's rude not to share shit like that."

"He's not wrong", Nat said, "got Lake Eire up north, Zion to the far West and Carson City down further south. All these places are still working with the US Dollar as currency. And, as low as the chances are, there's still the possibility some gas stations out there still have workable pumps. A 100 bill that you pulled out of a register can get us at least a tank of diesel on the Rig. If nothing else, coin shot for Arien's shotgun is a thing."

"Okay, fair enough", Shannon conceded, "in that case, throw me a few bills, some things on my Depot wish list are on sale."

"The Depot was an awful place", Eirren snorted, shifting through some phone accessories on a back shelf that hadn't been adulterated, "you seen the way they treated the Animals that worked there?"

"Heard the stories", Shannon said pocketing a pack of gum, "don't trust 'em in the least."

"Can confirm the stories are true", James said, "worked for them for a time. It was not good. There's not a whole lot left here is there."

"Doesn't look like it", Zack agreed, "think the Biomass trashed everything when it made the store it's personal playground."

Nat added, "I'm gonna call it. That one was creepier than Goliath."

"Yeah, we'll probably see a few more of 'em before we hit Texas", James said, "I'd been as far as West Virgina's border with Ohio and was still seein' 'em out."

"You guys think you can get the trucks around? Without disturbing the deceased I mean?", Nat asked.

"Not without clearing a path", I noted.

"Who get's corpse detail then?", James asked.

"All of us", Eirren said, "more paws less work."

"Do we have to?", Shannon asked, "I fuckin' hate corpse detail."

"Yeah it sucks", I shrugged, "but it'll be done and over with quicker if we all pitch in."

"Least it'll be an easy grab", Zack said, "There's barrels with the military markings for diesel fuel right out back, just a matter of getting it into the tanks."

I shook my head, couldn't help by grin, "you're up Modified, we're gonna have to turn those bitches right on their heads."

"Yeah yeah", Zack waved me off.

It took some effort and creative language, but we managed to get enough of the bodies moved out of the way to create a clear path for the trucks to roll through. I wished we had the time to give them a proper send off, but for now, a salute would have to do.

"I can't imagine goin' out like that", Eirren sighed as we headed back towards the Tundra, "out of the blue, friends turn against me and hordes of outside contacts come rushing into my base lookin' to do God knows what to me."

I nodded in agreement, "yeah.."

We brought the trucks around to the fueling station and, with some help from our resident mechanic, managed to get the barrels turned on their heads to fill the trucks. Once the tanks were filled, we policed some more ammunition and magazines from the corpses strewn about the base, encountering a few more than terrifying looking Biomass examples, but nothing that wasn't easily disposed of. With ammunition gathered, we got to work on loading our use magazines. It struck me at some point halfway through my last magazine that I'd been abandoned, as in, everyone by Nero, who was sitting on top of my duffle bag, had gathered around the back of the rig.

"What the heck are they up to?", I asked aloud, placing a stripper clip of 10 rounds into the top of the guide tray and ramming the ten rounds in for a total of 30, "can you hear anythin' buddy?"

Nero shook his head, "nawo."

"Hmm, well let's see what they're up too huh?"

As if on Que, I felt a paw on my shoulder.

"Boss, we kinda need you, we got a situation."

I put Nero on my shoulders, shoved my last magazine into my carrier and went to meet the others at the foot of the rig, they were gathered around James, HCAR in one hand, Radio in the other, Eirren and Nat were huddled over the Atlas with a compass and a tractor, looking like they were trying to phone an airstrike.

"The hell is goin' on back here?", I asked.

"Hold on", James said, "Imma let you talk to my boss."

He handed me the radio, I took it.

"This is Arien Kyvart, who am I speaking with?", I asked into the radio.

"My name's Alex", a female said, "I'm besieged by Scourged and Biomass in the Rockwood Area Mall. There's gotta be a thousand of them here. I'm stuck on the roof of the mall with my 5 year old daughter, I've got no way off this roof without fighting through the better part of the hostiles and even if I could get off the roof, the Scourged were smart enough to trash my Ford. I've got ammunition and supplies, courtesy of the last Animals here, but it's getting real fucking hot on this X! There's some other animals on the way but from what your allies tell me, you're closer. If you all can get up here and help me fight these fuckers off I'd be forever thankful!"

I turned to Eirren.

"We're ten minutes out, other team is at least twice that", she said.

"Alex, we're on our way, ETA in ten!"

"Thanks bro! Make sure you check your fire! There's another team of four enroute to the mall as well, look for a blue tundra!"

"Rodger that Alex, we're in blue Toyota's as well."

"Thanks Arien! Alex out!"

"Aight!", I gave the rally on me hand sign, "force up! We're boots on the ground in ten! Not a second more."

"Hoorah!", James barked, "time to work for a living."

We loaded into the trucks with rounds in the chambers, but rifles on safe. Pulling out of the station in formation, we navigated back through town and to the interstate with the clock running. Even ten minutes out from the combat zone, it wasn't difficult, even over the sounds of the diesels, to hear that Alex was shredding some high caliber on full auto.

"Sounds like she's burnin' a belt fed boss", James said, "I can tell it ain't no assault rifle."

"Duly noted brother", I answered, "hopefully we can convince her to join us if we can get her out of this."

"Be nice to have a real machine gun in the group", Benjamin said.

"Let's focus on making sure she lives for now", I suggested, "stay frosty."

As the timer ticked away on our ten minute window, I found myself hoping that the trip was no indication of the conditions in Rockwood. Scourged, Biomass, they were fuckin' everywhere. More often than not, they were closing the distance between us and them, of course, they weren't exactly pleased with the results of stepping in front of the rigs. I was sure that the Tundra especially, with a front guard covered in nasty flesh and blood certainly looked a the sight. As we approached Rockwood, the sound of auto fire became much more noticeable, when we passed city limits. Once we had navigated a set of railway tracks with a biomass protecting it, all we had to do to find the Rockwood mall was follow the gunfire and the screaming.

"Alex, Arien", I hit my PTT, "we've entered the city limits at this time. Fill us in, where are we going and how are we getting inside."

"There's two ways into the city, north and south, did you happen to cross a set of rails on your way in?"

"Yes."

"Okay, you'll come up behind the mall", Alex said, "it's a giant, three story sprawling building with a radio antenna on the top. I need you to pull up to the service door behind the mall, underneath it there's a parking garage for the semi's. It's empty so you'll have space to turn around and there's a manual key hidden in a hollowed out pillar near the drain pipe adjacent to it. You'll have no problem getting in. Be advised, the Scourged have managed to breach, so we're gonna have to fight our way to rendezvous. Don't push into the mall until the other team arrives because there's a big ass biomass working it's way through this building that'll make you a short snack. I've got traps set all through the mall, you'll see 'em marked on the walls. If you or your crew see something in my weapons caches you want, its yours! On the house!"

"10-4 Alex. Arien out."

I hit my radio to my team, "Biomass and Scourged have breached the mall. We've got active enemy in the AO, weapons ready."

I took my M4 off safe as we approached the mall. Alex wasn't lying when she said the mall was a massive building, I imagine it must have cast a shadow on the front parking lot. Didn't have a decorative back entrance by any means and the parking lot was filled with Scourged. As we pulled to a stop in front of the garage door that Alex described, we dismounted the rigs as half a dozen Scourged and four Biomass Specimen shambled steadily towards us.

"Here they come!", I barked, "attack!"

Benjamin was the first to open up, firing a three round burst that dropped the closest Scourged like a sack of wet concrete. The others simply shambled around their dead comrade, waving construction tools ranging from screw drivers and pry bars to a fireaxe and broken bottles as weapons. I put one in the crosshairs of my ACOG and pulled the trigger, one, two three times, the Scourged fell and I shifted my aim to the Biomass that shoved it out of the way. Per James' advice, I ran my gun until the fuckin' thing dropped, 20 rounds later. Down to 7 of a 30 round magazine so soon after topping off, I stuck my gun tighter into my shoulder and began deliberately picking my shots instead of just sending them. Over the bellowing of James' HCAR and Nat's M4, only the sudden stop of the bolt in the rear of my M4 told me it was down. Turning the gun sideways, empty mag.

"Gun down stand by."

I ducked down behind the Tundra, pulling a fresh magazine from my vest, took hold of the spent one with the fresh one perpendicular, pulled the spent out, inserted the fresh one and closed the bolt with the BAD lever while I placed the spent one back into my belt, immediately getting back into the fight. The Scourged were easy enough to deal with and the Biomass were small examples, not overly complicated.

"Clear!", James shouted.

"Clear!", Benjamin confirmed.

"Yep! Clear!"

"Make sure we aren't taken by surprise yeah?", I said turning to the door. What did she say exactly? Something about a hollowed pillar? I searched along the base of the sidewalk, and sure enough at the bottom of the pillar closest to the door was a hidden compartment that sort of slid out from the base with the key in the bottom. With the key in hand, I turned to my friends.

"Make sure I'm not gonna get attacked by whatever nightmare comes out of this garage will ya?"

"We're ready when you are boss", James said pointing his HCAR at the door.

I stuck the key in the access panel and turned it. I heard something inside clank rather loudly, but the door didn't move.

"Shit", Eirren sighed, "it's a manual door."

"Hold up, I got it", James sat his HCAR on the Tundra's hood, "Mask please."

"Copy", the now rather familiar voice answered in kind as James rose to that towering 8'4 height. I stepped back, picking my M4 off my hip as James stepped to the door.

"Tell me when boss", he stated.

"You're go for door", I said.

James reached under the door with both hands and with a grunt, heaved it open. Behind the door, the sun shone into a mostly empty parking garage with a trailer in the corner, but for what else we could see, it was barren.

"Nothing in here but some dust bunnies", James noted as he peered inside.

"Looks rather dark beyond the door. Power must be out", I observed, "Can you make the door stay put?"

James observed the door's mechanics, "uhh...maybe. If I do, we'd need someone to guard it. I doubt those Scourged we passed on the way in were just out for a Sunday walk."

"Alex, Arien", I hit my PTT, "where are the malls Generators located? Looks like the power's out."

"They're in the sub basement, two levels below the service garage", Alex said, "I've got separate power for the roof, so I didn't realize it was out. It'll be pitch black through the lower levels without power. I don't suppose you have NV?"

"We're covered in that regard. Dunno if the other team will be though."

"I'll try and contact them now", Alex said, "see if you can get the power up in the mean time. You'll find a map in the stairwell that'll point you to the generators. Good luck guys, out."

"It'll be pitch black in there bro", James said, "lemme come with you. I don't need nods."

"Not a bad idea", Eirren added, "may not be a good idea for you to be around wearing that get up when the other team shows up. They may not be as accepting of Altered as we are."

"Aight. James you're with me, let's get the trucks inside and get this door opened. I want an FOB set up inside this garage."

James used some of the various scrap metal laying around to make what amounted to rebar zip ties in the doors tracking, which prevented it from slamming shut. The others got the trucks into the garage in the proper orientation for a quick getaway and starting setting up. Towards the back was a service stairwell that I had to use my weapon light to locate. James took the door and I went in first, it was darker than anything I'd ever seen once that door shut behind us.

"It's pitch black in here dude", I said lowering my nods. The environment around me turned a clear shade of green, as though someone had applied colored filters over my vision. The IR illuminator tied into the goggles themselves bounced off the wall like a flashlight under the nods. I wasn't inexperienced with Nods, I'd used them extensively during my time in the Arctic and spent the vast majority of my time as a merc in Africa under nods during the Mission Siege, but you could miss me with Nod work if the shit wasn't black and white like thermal. I hated the green hue, with a passion. In my experience, Nods made it harder to maneuver, harder to aim, and generally made you less combat effective than white light, no matter how good you were. However, here it was either use nods, or do white light. Without knowing what horrors might be hiding in the basement, nods it was.

"How the hell can you even see in here?", I asked, "the nods are giving a warning that it's too dark in here."

"I'd describe it to you as a black and white thermal optic, with some kind of overlay that shows me every neuron in your body firing. Right now, you just look like a little more than a mass of blue and white fibers flashing like hazard lights."

"And any hostile contacts?", I asked.

"They'll show up as reddish orange. I'll see 'em before you do."

"How the hell does this shit even work?", I asked.

James shrugged, "don't know. It just does."

I didn't answer. Checking the map of the stairwell, it looked like we were two floors up from the sub basement. Once we entered that, the generators would be in the back of the furthest of the three areas.

"Shit's buried deep", I noted, "hear anything James?"

"No, but I wouldn't count on that meaning much."

I shook my head, "good enough for me. Keep it tight bro."

"Right behind you dude."

We began to descend the stair case, James watching above us and me keeping my gun on the stairs below. The further down into the stairwell we went, the more uneasy I became. I could hear them, scurrying around below us. Jeez, there must have been a bunch of them.

"This is creepy shit bro", James said, "we're right in their fuckin' nest. I lost track at 17 contacts, might have counted some of them twice."

"Biomass or Scourged?", I asked.

"Some combination of the two", James said.

I growled as we neared the generator room, "dammit, can't anything ever go right?"

"Well so far I'd say it's going well", James said peering through the window, "yeap....there's a few of them, how you wanna play this boss?"

"When was the last time you ate?", I asked. There were quite a few Scourged between us and the generators, if I could save my ammunition, I would.

James shrugged, both he and the creature that shared his body responded with the same answer.

"Sometime this morning."

"You hungry yet?"

James cracked his neck.

"Starving", they said.

With my back to the wall, I put a backwards kick into it as hard as I could. The door, rusted out on the inside, caved with no effort. James was actually through the entryway before the door had even fallen and then used it like a fly swatter, crushing the Scourged that had tried to move on him under it. I funneled into the room, watching James grab two approaching Scourged, one in each hand, and then smash their heads together so hard that they popped. The sound, a mixture of a breaking light bulb and as if someone had smashed an overly ripe apple underfoot, it sent a wave of morbid satisfaction shivering up my spine. The Scourged now converged on him from every direction. James went about solving this problem with as much speed as he did brutality. The spine of one of the two Scourged whose head's he'd bashed in was used as a weapon for ripping flesh with horrifying efficiency. Brandishing the length of bony cord as a whip, James decapitated two more attackers instantaneously, then, bending it in half, stabbed another Scourged straight through the chest, grabbed it from the other end and pulled it straight, ripping the Scourged in half from about the waist up. While turning to his next target, one of them managed to close the distance and actually bite James. Hard as his skin seemed to be, the Scourged's dirty and broken teeth sank right in, of course, the fact that it looked like the offender had been a American Alligator at some point probably had a bit to do with it. The gator, now with his teeth firmly in flesh, started to try and do the Death Roll. James, seeming less than displeased, seized the offender by the skull and yanked him free of his arm. Ignoring his ripped and shredded bicep, James brought the gator around, pulled off both of his arms with alarmingly little effort, pulled his lower jaw free from his skull and then took a massive bite out of his head. His teeth went through the gator's skull with all the effort of an industrial wood chipper grinding up printer paper. James made it a point to quickly chew up the bite of bone and brain, swallow and then take another, tossing the gator aside, grabbing another victim by the next and simply strangling her while he attacked the remaining two scourged a folding chair he swung from one set of legs. With the remaining two dead, he took hold of the final victim, still struggling, and pulled her in half, slurping up blood and organs from the upper torso like some kind of bloody Italian pasta and throwing the spent carcass so hard against the wall that it stuck.

"Clear", he said, nonchalantly wiping the blood from his maw, "eggh, damn things taste like half assed chicken, like slightly warm, wet rubbery shit."

"Gross", I shook my head, "that's nasty as fuck bro."

James shrugged, the creature sharing his body answered, "you said we could do things our way."

"Yeah...I guess I did", I sighed, "let's find the generator, get it switched on and get out of this hole."

In the back of the room, around a corner, located near a maintenance area, were the back up generators, but between us and them was a security grate. The gate was open, so we just walked right in. The walls on either side of the gated area were covered in electrical controls with a middle panel between the two generators. There was a navigator on the panel with two keys underneath it that read "Generator 1, offline, manual operations only. Generator 2, offline, manual operations only."

"So nice of them to leave us the keys", I noted, "but, manual operations means it would have required someone to turn it off in the first place."

"Didn't Alex said that she hadn't noticed the power was out?", James asked.

"Think so. We'll worry about that later", I threw the keys, bringing the generators to life. The lights in the basement came on, I lost my nods.

"Eirren, Power's back.", I said hitting my PTT.

"Sweet", she replied, "make sure James has his shit together, the other assault team is just around the corner."

"Rodger that, force up in half a mike, out", I turned to James, "better lose the friend. The other team just showed up. Don't need you eating bullets."

"Gotta go hide for now", James said as the creature retreated to...wherever the fuck it went, I didn't catch his reply, but James continued with, "you'll get another shot at them, don't worry about that."

With his 1911 in his hands, James and I went back upstairs, upon reentering the parking garage, Nat met us and threw him back his HCAR.

"Where's the other team?", I asked.

"Just around the corner", Nat said, "less than one mike."

"Alex, Arien, gimme a sit rep, you have eyes on the other team?"

"Yeah, they're like 30 seconds out", she said, "I take it you got the power back, some of my traps in the parking lot are goin' off."

"Your welcome", James said.

"Thanks was implied brother", Alex said, "but yes, thank you very much."

"Soon as we force up with the other assault team we'll push through the mall to you", I told her, "have they breached the mall yet?"

" A few yeah. Dunno how many, just what's made it to the roof. Heads up though, the Escalators are the only ways between floors now, the elevators here have never fuckin' worked. Gonna have to work your way through the fuckin building to reach me on the roof. I don't have rope or I'd meet you down there right now."

"We'll make do", I said, "Arien out."

James and I forced up with the others, as we were getting ready to roll out, another Tundra pulled into the garage. This one wasn't nearly as decked as ours was, but it was still clearly a formidable wasteland vehicle, given the fact that there was blood and a dismembered limb on the grill guard. The driver put his vehicle in park and pushed the door open. Upon stepping out, I realized he was some kind of hybrid, a cross between a Coyote and something hairless perhaps, as he had no fur, only dark brown skin with some blue markings on his arm, some of which looked like birth marks and some of which looked like ink. He had an M4 with an almost identical set up to mine, with the sole difference being Gen III PMAGS with Strike EMP5 plates on them, he was running a different ACOG and some kind of threaded suppressor. He wore the full get up, plate carrier, belt, boots and helmet, but dressed in a blue and white button down plaid shirt and torn blue jeans. He was not a small Animal either, especially for a mammal. Dude must have weighed north of 300 pounds, looked more like a wall than an animal. The Animals that were under his command looked equally rough, they looked like they took care of themselves, but still really rough, almost like they enjoyed wasteland life.

"You must be Arien", he offered me his hand, "call me Truck."

I accepted, "who came up with that name?"

"Me", the Arabian Fox in the back of the Tundra with a 7.62 AK said flicking two fingers away from the top of her helmet.

"Fitting. He's built like one."

"It has it's ups and downs", Truck shrugged.

"This your team?", I asked.

"Tessa, infantry at heart like me, Skeve, our resident Russian and Luka, our Demo girl."

"You guys look well versed", I noted.

"We get around", Skeve stated.

"Hey, I'd just like to know where you got that AsH 12.7", I said, "I've wanted one for ages."

"We'll explain that once the HVI is safe", Skeve said.

"Like your style", I agreed, "so, you guys lookin' to sling some lead?"

"Would we be here if we weren't?", Truck asked.

"Let's force up!", I rallied my team, "every second we fuck around is one less Alex and her daughter have!"

"Hoorah!", James said.

"Let's do this!", Skeve rattled.

"You girls got an issue with watchin' the rigs?", Truck asked.

Tessa shook her head, "nope. Someone's gotta do it."

"I'll stay behind too", Nat said, "Shannon?"

"Nah", Shannon said, "I'll roll with the boys."

"Aight, let's move out. Alex, Arien, we're oscar mike. We'll make our way through the building and rendezvous at our end of the building, repel down and egress to a safe location from there."

"Copy all Arien, I'll sit tight."

As a group, we moved to the stairwell, single file. Funneling inside, we traveled up the staircase to the first floor, upon reaching the service exit to the first floor, I could immediately hear the pained moans and whines of the Scourged, just on the other side of the wall. We stacked up, my team on one side and Truck's on the other. Truck, slinging his M4 across his back, pulled a long, black metal cord with a bulb on the end from a pouch on his leg. Skeve, crouching down beside him, took a tablet from his assault pack, connecting the cord to it.

"Snake cam", I commented, "good piece of kit."

"One of the three pieces of electronic gear we use", Skeve commented, "sweep it right bro, need to get a good look at that one."

They paused for a second, "I count 13 hostiles, just in the immediate breach zone. No telling how many more are around the corners. It's about a 20 foot entry way, some plant atrium down the middle of the walkway. Good cover, no way we can do this quietly. If we breach with explosives or a shotgun, we can kill the closest, but the other two nearby will sound the alarm before we can get shots off."

"Zack, your up", I instructed, "step back all."

Truck and his team stepped back, so did we. Zack, tying his AK off to his body, pulled out his Glock, checked to make sure a round was in the chamber.

"Gimme the go boss", Zack said.

"3, 2, 1", I counted, "go! Breach!"

Zack took a spinning start before he put his boot square in the door, which flew off of it's hinges with the sound of a gunshot, crashing into the Scourged standing by it and sweeping him off his feet. Zack exited the stairwell popping off several rounds as the rest of us followed him. Yeah, the entry way was filled with hostile contacts that were all now converging on our position, at random speeds with various bits of twisted scrap wood or metal as weapons.

"My team is weapons free, don't let 'em touch you!", Truck shouted.

The Scourged, of course, didn't stand much of a chance at all at taking all of us. They dropped like dominos, with the biggest shooter being Skeve. Yeah, wasn't the easiest thing in the world to differentiate a 5.45 vs 5.56 hit on a scourged, but God almighty when those big ass 12.7x55 rounds struck a target you knew it, because it deflated them like party balloons. After making short work of the Scourged in the entry way and moving to the end of the hall, we posted on both sides of the walls and the scale of the infestation of not only the mall but the area, became apparent. Contacts in either direction, dozens of them, and there were even more of them outside gathered in the parking lot.

Truck made the sign of the cross, "Lord help us...."

"I've never seen so many of them in one place", James commented.

"Wish I had ordered this thing with 25 round mags like the rep said", Skeve growled.

"Single file, three animals watching flank at all times, preferably someone with a full auto", I ordered, looking to Ben.

I took point from here. It wasn't difficult to find a broad containing a paper map of the mall, the case of which was quickly broken and the map swiped. Eirren, guarded by everyone else and Beretta in hand, led us through the hordes of scourged to the first set of stairs. Now, I understand that the Scourged likely weren't guarding the stairs persay, but it fuckin' felt like it, given the fact there were no fewer than 20 of them scattered around. I needed to add that at this point that Truck and Skeve were excellent shooters, maybe slightly faster on target acquisition than we were. We made quick work of the Scourged in the Atrium, moving up the escalators, one team per set.

"Rotating mags", Skeve called out.

Skeve's reload procedure was something to admire. He balanced the weapon on his left arm, pushing it into his shoulder via the long Troy grip attached to the bottom of the pic rail. He reached into his vest with his right, rocked the spent one out, rocked the new one into place and re-indexed the spent one, grabbing the charging handle at the right front of his weapon with his left hand as his right found the pistol grip again. Made me wonder how many miles he had on that thing to get so good at it.

Upon reaching the second floor, Eirren clued us into the fact the escalators to the third were literally on the other side of the building.

"Gah!", Truck hissed, "I fucking hate malls!"

"You and me both brother", Skeve agreed.

The Scourged had infested this floor just as badly as they had the lower floor and the town in general it seemed, six contacts were waiting for us just feet from the top of the escalators, and there were a lot more of them up here than there were downstairs. Trails of meat and puss were splattered all over the walls, with half dismembered, still living scourged shambling about. The smell was so fucking awful that we all immediately forced our masks on over our faces.

"How the fuck does an Animal want their heart to keep beating when they're in that kinda state?", Skeve asked, knockin' down two Scourged that had come out of a sporting goods store waving large machetes.

"Will to live's a powerful fuckin' force Skeve", Truck said.

"Ain't that the truth", Zack agreed.

With the immediate threat dealt with, we didn't slow down on our approach to the next set of escalators. Staying close, but giving each other room to maneuver, we pushed through the halls and open spaces in either a V shape or single file as necessary. We pushed through the second floor, meeting a reasonable amount of resistance, but nothing we couldn't handle. Entering the third floor, all we had to do to find that escalator was follow the trail of bloody puss and meat chunks that had been dragged across the floor, the screaming of the Scourged and the chatter of whatever high caliber belt fed Alex was burning. Nearing the end of the third floor, closing on roof access, we started to run across the traps Alex had been talking about, almost all of them looked sprung. Trip wires hooked to shotguns, a Molotov cocktail trap, sprung, with a few sparse flames trying to get a good hold on the extremely fire resistant area where the trap had been set. There was a Scourged laying on the ground crying who had stepped in a bear trap, blood everywhere. At the very end of the fight towards the third floor roof access, we ran into the big ass Biomass Example Alex had been talking about.

Now, I thought Goliath was huge when we met him in the plant. To this, there was no comparison. This fucking thing was enormous, and probably accounted for a lot of the rancid smell in the building. It was the size of an over the road semi, composed of shit bubbling in the back of your throat nasty, red, yellow, green, black and white flesh. Bits of bone, hair and feathers were scattered in patches all over it's body, combined with craters that looked like they'd been caused by explosives that were oozing brownish white shit that for some goddamn reason reminded me of cottage cheese. Some of it's latest victims were still bound to the mass via fibrous, root like growths into their bodies with extreme discoloration around the areas where they were attached. Their faces could still be seen, eyes rolled into their heads to the point of being nearly white with the veins visible. The Example was making God awful noises as it tried to, slither or crawl or whatever the fuck it was doing to achieve locomotion to get up the escalators, no doubt after Alex, who was laying into it mercilessly with seemingly endless full auto fire without effect. We took cover immediately after laying eyes on the truck sized monstrosity.

"Is there some higher force at work here?", Truck asked into the coms, "I mean are we asking too much of life?"

"We ain't stopping that with rifles", Skeve noted.

"James?", I asked.

He shook his head, "No, hell no. Don't be throwing us to that thing boss, one that large? It'll rip us apart, we need a heavy machine gun, or explosives or chemical weapons."

"Alex!", I hit my PTT, "we're near the roof access, but we've run into the Six of that big ass biomass. We're ill-equipped to handle one that large and need another way to you. Is there a secondary roof aces?"

"Yeah!", Alex said, "at the opposite end of the building. When you exit the mall, you'll come right up on my hide, I have heavier weapons there!"

"Rodger that!, We're moving now!", I said, "sit tight sister! We're coming!"

"Space is getting real fuckin' cramped brother!", Alex protested.

"Just have to hold on a bit longer!", Truck said.

We encountered almost no resistance on our way to the second roof access. Upon starting our ascent of the escalator turned staircase, Alex's machine gun quieted.

"That's it!", she screamed in fear, "I just popped my barrel! Any time guys!"

"Make your way to the end of the roof!", Truck told her, "we're on our way up right now!"

"Don't have to tell me twice!", Alex replied as we made it to the roof. Immediately, I gathered that this must be the side of the roof that Alex normally lived on. It was a structure built out of scrap metal and sand bags around the base of the large antenna. Sand bag fortifications housed a Browning M2. There was also a female shark cowering in fear underneath the machine gun, holding onto a teddy bear and a Glock 17 for dear life. When she saw us, she pointed it right as, but was shaking so hard even if it had been a G18 she never would have hit us.

"Easy there sweetie", Eirren said going to her, "we're friends of your Mom."

"Shannon, get on that fuckin' .50."

"Got ya", she acknowledged as the rest of us took up positions to cover Alex, in a dead sprint towards us. Her down MG34 in one hand and her sidearm, some Glock variant, in the other. She vaulted over the sand bags, tossing her red hot and smoking MG34 to the side and running into the structure, coming out with a new front end assembly and the tool to change it, taking cover next to her daughter.

"Mommy!", the little shark cried, "make them go away!"

"I'm working on it honey!", Alex sounded exhausted.

"Contact!", Benjamin said, the first Scourged had appeared at the other end of the roof. I felt the entire building start to shake as two more showed themselves, falling back down with the strikes.

"We've got about 2 minutes before that thing gets up here to kill us all!", Alex said, "there's ammunition in bags in that FOB, if you need to restock, do it now!"

"Skeve!", Truck shouted, "we need ropes! Time to roll up and get off the X!"

"Eirren!", I asked over the radio as the building shook again, "are you in position!?"

"Yeah! Good to go if you are!"

"We're oscar mike!", I waved my hand, "Let's roll up! Get off this X wile we can!"

"What about the.50!?", Shannon asked, "We can't just leave it here!"

"Too heavy! It'll slow us down!", I barked, "just grab the belt and as much ammunition as you can carry. M2's aren't exactly rare finds."

Shannon promptly opened the cover and unloaded the machine-gun. Truck, Benjamin and Skeve helped Alex drag 3 duffle bags to the edge of the building, tied them to one rope and lowered it down.

"Ammunition heist of the century", Alex said turning to her daughter, "sweetie, I want you to hold onto mommy really tightly okay?"

Her daughter nodded, Alex hooked up.

"Thanks Arien, you guys saved our lives."

"We're not out of the woods yet, wait to thank me", I was cut off as the roof access collapsed on the other end of the mall. The Biomass began heaving itself up onto the roof, Scourged swarming up behind it.

"Thank me once we unfuck this AO!", I shouted, "Move! Move! Move!"

Alex and Truck were the first ones over, Eirren jumped over the edge, using her wings to slow her descent. Shannon and Benjamin followed Truck and Alex, while Skeve, followed his boss and James and I were the last ones off the roof. The trucks were waiting at the base of the mall, idling and ready, doors open.

"We're oscar mike!", I put the Tundra in gear and mashed it, driving the truck as fast as it would go, the East way out of town. We drove for the better part of an hour once we had gotten off the X, eventually coming to the area where Alex claimed she lived. This was a quiet area, most of the trees and plants were still alive, and the wind rustled quietly through the trees. Eventually, we pulled up to her house, was easy spot, given it was the only one with a freshly cut lawn.

"Here, pull up here", Alex said over the radio.

I pulled to the side of the road,putting the transmission in park.

"Dad", Nero asked from the back as we sat there, "what was all that gunfire back there about?"

"Whole lot of Scourged buddy", I sighed, rubbing the sides of my face, "lots of them, more than I've seen."

Nero sighed, deciding not to carry the conversation on further. I rolled out of the truck, getting the door for the kids when my boots hit the pavement. Was cooler here than it was in Rockwood, which I would chalk up to the surviving trees. We gathered at the door as Alex unlocked it.

"Well, since you guys did all the work, help yourselves to the ammunition we secured from the mall. You can stay the night here if you want, but I don't have space to keep you long term."

"Thanks for the offer", Truck said, "We'll be movin' on soon, we can still cover plenty of ground before sundown."

"If you guys are ever in the area again, pull me up", Alex said, "be happy to lend a hand any way that I'm able."

"We'll happily take you up on it", Truck said, turning to me, "Arien, my crew's good on ammunition, I'm just gonna rest here for a few, replace what I burned and then I'll be on my way."

"I've got a nice deck out back", Alex said, "I built a little cooking station out of my fire pit, be happy to put something on it for you guys."

"Don't suppose you have fresh meat?", I asked.

"Hah, brother, wish on a shooting star", Alex scoffed.

"Worth a shot", I shrugged.

Alex was happy to prepare food from our stocks while we cleaned our weapons, which was honestly overdue. During the downtime, I decided to pick Truck's head a bit.

"So where you from Truck?", I asked.

"Crystal City Texas", he answered.

"I'm a Brazoria Guy myself", I told him, "quiet little town."

"Yeah was pretty quiet in my neck of the woods too", he explained, "I met Tess when I was in the Army, hit it off right off the bat and Skeve's been a buddy of mine for...shit I wanna say the better part of a decade at this point. I gotta ask you something too. If your from Brazoria, the fuck are you doing in West Virgina?"

"Fixing the worst fuckin' mistake of my life brother", I said, "my Dad knew about the nukes weeks before they came. Moved us all to Maine, I had just gotten moved out, then those fuckin' bombs came. I should have fought him harder than I did at the time, then maybe I wouldn't be in this mess. Course, if I had, I wouldn't have gotten to meet all these Animals."

"Yeah we're pretty much a family of freaks", Zack shrugged, "wouldn't have it any other way."

James lit a cigarette, rolling up his sleeves and removing his gloves, his skin, it was almost starting to look....like a dragon's should. He had white and blue scales starting to come back. He blew the smoke out, exhaling loudly.

"Damn...I can breath again."

"Bro, you look beat to fuckin' hell", Truck noted.

"I am", James said, "I'm an Ex-Marine, purebred Arctic and to top it off, I was in the Western Trench in France."

"I heard stories about the brutality that went on there", Truck answered, "I was in Africa for most of my time. Did some shit I'm not proud of."

"We all did", Zack said, "I was in the trenches too. When they started sending the kids to fight, it lined right up with the Germans getting involved."

"Didn't know the Germans were anywhere but Africa", Truck said slapping his M4 back together.

James nodded, "they were in a couple of places weren't they?"

"There was a German in my battalion", Benjamin said, "near the end of the Campaign."

"Where were you at?"

"Gobi", Ben said, "part of the reason I'm not comfortable in desert BDU's any more. I was riding on top of a tank and a Chinese sniper split my skull in half. Our wolf kid Nero? His Dad was in my unit and dragged me from the battlefield back to base on nothing more than Soviet Rage."

"I heard about some of the shit that went on in Gobi", Truck said, "Chinese got their asses handed to them on their own fuckin' turf."

"For China, it was over when we took Shanghai, they knew it, we knew it", Benjamin said.

"Wish those guys in the Arctic knew that", I sighed.

"You were there?", Skeve asked.

"Yep. My brother was the captain of the Battleship that got iced."

"Man, that was like something out of a Terris Morgan movie", Truck said, "way ya'll freed that boat."

"I learned to love C4 that day", I grinned.

Alex broke up the conversation with the announcement that dinner was ready. Once food was in hand, Eirren inquired if Alex had a more up to date Atlas, since she'd been noticing our was becoming incorrect the further south we went.

"Sure do, lemme get it for you", she stood and started to head inside, stopping dead at the door and yanking her clock from her holster.

"I got movement by the trucks", she whispered, just loud enough to be heard.

The theft of the Ford flashed across my eyes, across the eyes of all my friends as they rushed for their firearms.

"How many?", I asked, locking one into the chamber of my M4, quickly strapping on my belt so I'd have a spare magazine if I needed it.

"Looks like three", Alex said backing away from the door, keeping her Glock up.

"Child's play", Zack said, "We can just rush them and be done with it."

"May be more than that", I cautioned, "we take 'em as a team."

Zack looked uncomfortable, but agreed. Alex unlocked the back gate and we funneled around the side of the house, guns up, we found four contacts in the street trying to gain access to my Tundra. These animals were not your common street thugs or desperate survivors. They wore black uniforms and carried a mixture of AK-405's and M4s, from the looks of them, they knew how to use them.

"Enemies over there!", one of them shouted, trying to get his rifle up, Zack however, was faster, getting three shots up which caught the animals plate, making him dive behind my truck.

"Fuck you!", he growled loudly as his friends got their guns up, managing to get rounds off, one of which struck my plate carrier. Didn't get through, or even really damage my carrier, but I was on my fucking back in the street in a minute with lava instantly replacing the blood in my veins.

"Fucker shot me!", I hissed as Alex dragged me back a ways, taking cover behind the rig. Despite the pain in my knee, I managed to roll over and peek out from behind the trailer. Zack was now joined by Truck and Skeve, the three of whom were no match for the black clad mystery animals trying to steal our rides. A series of shots tore through the quiet afternoon, stopping as quickly as they started.

"Clear!", Zack said from the front of my Tundra.

"Clear!", Truck confirmed.

"Yep, clear", Skeve said, "Ya alright Arien?"

"Yeahep", I groaned, managing to get to my feet, "I'm good it caught the plate."

"Teach you to try and steal our fuckin' shit", Zack hissed.

"Calm down Zack", Skeve said, "threat's..."

Skeve stopped in the middle of his sentence when a blue canister struck the side of his helmet, hard enough to give him a what the fuck impulse. At first, I thought it was a flash bang, then, when it rolled, I saw the yellow triangle with a lightning bolt through it.

"EM...!"

I tried to dive for Zack, but was too slow. The pulse locked me up for a few brief seconds, during which I was forced to Zack's cybernetics fail catastrophically. I would guess, given the amount of circuitry and metal in his body, he took the vast majority of the current the grenade released. It fried his Snaypsis so quickly I heard the crack of it popping in the back of his neck. Without that link, his cybernetics, if they weren't fried already, would have shut down immediately, limbs, tail, lung...whatever he had. He fell to the ground, foaming at the mouth and eyes rolled back into his head as he planted face first into the road.

"Friendly down!", I screamed, "friendly down!"