I threw mine into the middle of the crowd. One exploded, engulfing crazies in flames. The other hit someone and fell to the ground but didn't break. Lasko threw hers and both shattered. Perfect aim. Just as a handful of people dashed through the wall of fire near the doors, Lasko and I pulled back, slamming them shut and ramming the pipe through the handle.

They slammed into the barrier. We kept our shoulders against it, keeping them in, though their fear made them strong. Each hit vibrated the wood. I imagined it splitting in half, then I'd be the one trampled to death.

To my side, I watched as Blaze and Ghost flung the last of their molotovs into the building then shut the front door and braced themselves against it.

The screams were deafening. A window between us and Blaze shattered as someone from inside fired rounds into it and ran through. The person got caught in a tangle of cloth, which set them on fire as they tried to jump through.

More tumbled out of the window, all on fire or singed. Most of them didn't make it far, and they collapsed and smoldered on the ground.

But some became runners, while those who remained alive ran in an adrenaline-fueled flight to survive.

I shouldered my rifle. "Clean up! Come on. Move back!"

We jogged away from the door, taking cover behind a behemoth truck nearby. Ghost and Blaze were gone, but I didn't see where they went.

I exhaled, bringing up the closest target in my sight. I squeezed and fired, and the flaming body fell backwards. I killed anything that moved too far from the building With the window now broken, the inferno we'd created inside the building raged. Blaze's molotovs worked better than I anticipated.

As the minutes passed, fewer people came from the windows. The doors held strong. More of the bodies outside rose as undead. Pop, pop, pop. Carefully aimed shots brought them back down.

Was it really this easy? Did we finally have a casualty-free fight with the crazies that ended in our favor?

The heavy scent of burnt flesh, smoke, and gasoline hung in the air.

If the fire got hot enough, it would burn the bodies and destroy their brains. Clean up of Zs would be nonexistent. My brain tried not to focus on the fact we'd just mass murdered over a hundred people.

All evil, murdering rapists, I reminded myself. All worthy of dying.

Yet the weight in my stomach wasn't from nerves any more. It was a sick feeling I couldn't describe. I was torn between feeling proud and puking. What if there were more Dr. Kalman's in there? Kids? I knew there were kids, since I saw some go in.

I tried to clear my mind as we stayed behind our cover, not speaking for the next fifteen minutes. The occasional runner clamored out of the window, and we took turns taking them down. Somewhere nearby, Ghost and Blaze took out stragglers, and ammunition exploded inside the lodge at irregular intervals.

Finally the roof caved, and metal sheets collapsed into the lodge. It was then I knew it was over. We won.

"Got any marshmallows?"

Blaze came from behind another car, eyes fixed on her handiwork. I doubted she'd have an existential crisis over this.

I worked up some saliva and swallowed. "Nope. You guys good?"

Nodding, Ghost followed behind her.

"I knew it would put a dent in them, but I didn't think it would work this well," Blaze said. "I barely went through a mag."

"Should we mop up the rest of the town then head out?" Lasko said.

I scanned the cars in the parking lot. "Might as well get this over with. Check the cars for anything useful. I'll siphon gas and we'll head out."

The motel was exactly what my imagination concocted. There were thirty rooms, each holding one or more women, some men too, tied to grimy mattresses. Some were dead, and they snarled and pulled at the restrains as we entered the rooms to put them out of their misery. They looked like they'd been there for weeks. Marks of torture were evident on their bodies.

With Kalman's help, we transported the living to the hospital where he would take care of them. I was relieved to see dozens of children there, tended to by a normal couple who Kalman assured us were good. They were never forced to attend sermons because they took care of the kids. The look on their faces when we explained how we'd killed the Brotherhood population in Goldbar was nothing short of nirvana.

It took hours to clear buildings Kalman suspected crazies might still be in. We found five total who'd skipped the sermon, so delusional on drugs they were virtually comatose. By the time we finished dealing with the survivors and the mop up, we were exhausted.

Before we set out for Crow's, we took the rest of the night and some of the next day to organize our supplies and gas up the jeep. We had time to spare since our attack wasn't for four days.

My companions got into the jeep, and as I was about to leave, Kalman stopped me. He shook my hand, his eyes never leaving mine.

"End this, Mr. Sinclair," he said. "End this once and for all."

Chapter 26.

"There it is," Ghost said.

I squinted at the hillside. All I saw was dirt and ferns. It appeared to flatten out at the top, but I couldn't see beyond it. I could tell there were no trees; we were in some kind of large clearing.

Morning sunlight cut through the heavy forest mist, blinding me. I shielded my eyes, taking careful stock of what was in front of me. My gaze caught an odd spot on the hill. It looked like a pile of dying pine branches laid vertically against the incline.

"Well?" I asked. "Do we just go up and knock?"

"Knock on what? I don't see anything." Lasko brought up her gun then flicked the cap off her scope. Ghost reached out and stopped her, pushing her weapon down.

"Don't. He'll be threatened."

I was tired of the mystery game. "What's the deal, Ghost? Where is he? How do you know he sees us?"

"I tripped an alarm line a half mile back so he knew we were coming. Gave him enough time to see it was me."

Ah. I clenched my jaw and fought back the irritation. When the plan involved my life, I liked to know the details. Ghost intentionally tripping an alarm line was something I felt I should know about. I wondered if there was anything else he'd omitted since we began our journey.

The drive to Index had been uneventful. The town itself was abandoned and picked clean. The jeep's headlights cast ominous shadows over the few houses and shops the town had, making me think I saw things.

We drove over a bridge and into the forest. Here, the road grew ever more narrow and decayed the farther we went. Eventually we had to go on foot. My body ached and my brain wanted nothing more than a few hours of sleep to reset. The few hours I got in Goldbar were tense and anything but restful. Blaze and I cranked the Dynamo flashlights every half hour to light our path, until the faint glow of a sunrise gave us a break.

Usually I didn't mind Ghost's stoic, silent personality. But when I was slogging through the fucking forest, hungry and tired, I wanted to know exactly where we were going. After I asked him where we were the first time and he didn't answer, I figured there was no point in bothering. Twenty minutes later, he said we were going east and that was that.

We were twenty yards away from the hill, taking cover against a fallen log with bushes growing out of it. We'd been waiting there for minutes before Ghost spoke. Now he stood, climbed over it, and walked towards the hill.

I looked at the women and shrugged. We were at his mercy.

I'd taken no more than five steps when I spotted movement to my right. A mound of grass and pine branches seemed to shift. I crouched, going for my gun, when the mound spoke.

"Stop." The voice was firm and nonthreatening. I did as it said, as did my companions.

"Brandon, it's me." Ghost's hands raised above his head. "It's Derek."

How long had he been there, watching us? His camouflage was impressive-a combination of the surrounding vegetation, army fatigues, and face paint. It seemed like an unbelievable amount of work to go around like that when you lived in the middle of nowhere. The thought of him waking up every day to put on his ensemble and stalk around the woods was frightening, but a bit amusing.

I fought to keep the smirk off my lips.

"I know." He came closer, his hulking olive sniper rifle pointed down. "I was out hunting when I saw you. You trip that wire on purpose or accident?"

"Just wanted you to know we were coming is all."

He nodded, then took his time studying each of us. "Wasn't in the bunker. Didn't hear it anyway. Who are they?"

"Friends. We need a favor."

Crow had a slow deliberateness about him that made me impatient. His actions and words were thought over and chosen mindfully. For everyone's sake, I kept the snide remarks at bay. Apparently he'd decided we were ok, since he walked passed us towards the hill.

I could see why Ghost liked him.

We followed him to the hillside where he pulled back the branches, which were all interwoven into a giant sheet that came up in one heft. Behind this was a round metal door, strikingly industrial against the forest around us. It was painted dark green and brown.

Crow turned the handle and a loud clunk sounded. The door swung outward, revealing a concrete tunnel going downward at a steep angle. He flicked a switch on the right and a series of bright bluish white LED lights came to life.

"Where are you getting electricity from?" Lasko asked.

"Got a field of solar panels up top." He shrugged off his blanket of shrubbery and set it on a hook by the light switch. We shuffled in. I felt claustrophobic already.

He pulled the door shut, locking it in place before turning back to us. He was at least six foot three with a clean shaven head. His nose was hooked like a beak, and his eyes were squinty and dark. I could see where the nickname came from.

"If you're friends of Ghost's, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. But if you steal anything, touch anything, talk back, or do anything to jeopardize the security of my base, I will not hesitate to kill you. This is my place, my rules. Understood?"

A chorus of 'understoods' echoed amongst us.

We walked down the tunnel until we reached another door. It looked like a vault, with a combination lock on the side of a handle. Crow took his time entering a long combination. Another heavy metal clunk, then he opened the door. He flicked on a light, then turned the light off in the hallway.

Inside was a narrow rectangular room, with walls made out of what looked like blue metal. On one side was a huge bookcase reminiscent of Kalman's, filled with titles on gardening, mechanics, guns, and anything else under the sun to do with survival. On the other was a leather couch and a coffee table. Photos hung on the wall, and almost all of these featured men in military garb, but two were of a delicate brunette woman and a baby. At the other end of the room was a door.

It took a moment before I realized we were in a train car. A popular survivalist trick: bury shipping containers and use them for storage or turn them into bunkers. I'd never seen one in real life, only saw pictures online Before, until Blaze and I starting hunting down supply hoarders. Even then they were rare. You had to have a lot of money to get a setup like Crow's. It would be impossible post-apocalypse, what with the need for the right machinery and construction materials. This place was built long before zombies, by a man who truly believed the end of the world was imminent.

He led us through the door into another room. I realized how expansive his base must be, because two more cutouts lead to two rooms on the right, two on the left, and one straight ahead. The place was a giant block of shipping containers, fit together like a puzzle. The one we were in now was full of guns. Rack after rack of guns and ammunition. A theme of precision and order was evident.

Crow racked his sniper rifle and gestured to the corner of the room.

I wondered what was behind the door to our right, but he took us left into a dining area, turning off each light before entering a new room.

There was a small square table with two chairs. To the right, boxes were stacked to the ceiling. These were filled with freeze dried food and MREs. The contents were labeled in chunky black print. A counter with a sink and faucet sat directly across from the door, with a cooking stove next to it. Tiny drips of water accumulated in a bucket in the sink.

Crow sat down, and Ghost sat across from him.

This was a survivalist's wet dream. All I could think about was getting the rest of the tour, finding out the specs on the place. Even as we crowded into the space, I gazed through the door trying to see what was through the gun room. I was a kid in a candy shop.

Fuck, maybe he has candy! I thought. He probably has everything.

A pang of giddy jealous flooded me. What the hell was I doing with my adult life Before? This is what I should've been doing. I added it to my ever growing list of regrets.

"What's the situation?" Crow asked, speaking only to Ghost.

He gave Crow a perfect summary of who the Brotherhood was and our current predicament with the war against the settlements. He explained our plan to blow up the highway and all the Brotherhood, leaving out our previous plans and challenges.

Just the facts, ma'am.

Crow listened, his neutral expression never changing. When Ghost finished, he leaned back in his chair and whistled. "That ain't no milk run, that's for sure."

"We've got three days before they come down the pass," Blaze said. "Can you help us?"

He tapped his fingers against the table. Somewhere in the base, a mechanical whirring started, then a gust of cold air came from a vent above us. We were so quiet, I swore I heard him thinking.

"I'll give you what you need and help you set it up, but I'm coming back here before the firefight starts." He ended the statement there, offering no explanation why. I didn't need one. If he was going to give us the explosives, we'd had everything we came for.

"How long will it take you?" I asked.

"Not long. Couple of hours to get everything ready."

"We've got at least a day to kill. Got room for us?" Ghost asked.

"Bunk and a couch. I'll give you one meal each, too, if you need it. I'll show you to it."

Ghost branched off to the first room while Crow lead us to the door I'd been wondering about. It was a bedroom, with one bunk bed against the wall, some lockers, and a desk. Both the top and bottom bunk mattresses were rolled. Crow opened one of the lockers and pulled out three sets of sheets and blankets then handed a bundle to each of us.

"Breakfast is at 0500." As he exited the room, his hand hovered over the light switch, but he stopped himself from executing the habit. "Lights out when you sleep." He slid the door shut.

After I removed my gear, my shoulders and back glad for the reprieve, I laid my bedding out on the floor. I let Blaze and Lasko take the narrow bunk beds. I wanted to say, ladies first, but I knew they'd find it demeaning.

The floor was stiff, and the coldness seeped through my thin blankets and clothes after I lay down. I hated keeping my boots on when I slept, but they provided much needed warmth. Despite the weariness in my bones, I couldn't shut my eyes. Every time I did, images of people burning kept flashing through my head.

Lasko took the top bunk, and as she climbed up it creaked. She sat with her feet dangling off the edge, head tilted back, gaze fixed on the blue metal ceiling. A hole was cut for a vent, from which a faint stream of cold, fresh air blew.

"This place is nice." Blaze whistled as she inspected the lockers. She tugged each open and peered inside. I caught a glimpse of medical supplies. "Wonder if he gets cabin fever?"

She retrieved something to eat from her backpack, and I decided to use the downtime to tend my wounds. I sat up and unzipped my bag, then retrieved some new gauze, tape, and the rest of the hydrogen peroxide. Maybe a bit of pain would warm me up and give me something to do.

"No, it looks like he goes out often. Did you see his hunting getup? He knows how to leave the safety of this place." I shrugged out of my jacket and lifted my shirt. The tape had almost lost its stick and barely hurt as I peeled it away. "He isn't quarantined here."

"Even in the thick of the apocalypse he would've been safe here, and still could've gone out in the forest," Lasko said. "Can you imagine? He's never been without food and clean water, a place to stay. Never had to deal with other survivors. Fuck, he's had electricity the whole time."

I laughed. "Jealous?"