Home Depot is a scene of pure pandemonium. Blood and bodies everywhere. The fight somehow caused a section of shelves in the electrical aisle to collapse, spilling coils of wire and sections of conduit everywhere.

A man and a woman come out of the hardware section. The woman is pushing a cart laden with tools. The man carries one of the heavy brush-cutting hooks known as a sling blade.

"That looks wicked," Ellie says.

"It seems like a fair weapon, if a bit on the slow side," Anat replies.

"Oh, you're one of those folks who's all about speed?"

"There's the quick and the dead." I say, paraphrasing an Army adage.

"I'm a fencer, so yeah," Anat answers her with a shrug.

"I guess that will come in handy."

"I never used a spear," says Anat. "But I know a spear is better than a sword in a fight. Fencers have done all sorts of things trying to get a few inches advantage, so it's hard to argue with the advantage of putting a blade on a pole. So I'll have to learn. "

"Maybe we can practice together."

"Of course. We all need to get as good at fighting as possible."

I had high hopes for finding sheet metal to make armor from, but that's been cleared out already. I guess the survivors of the melee that happened here must have decided armor was important.

"There's a metalworking supply not far from here, down by the farmers' co-op. There's a tack and leatherworking shop next door too." says Ellie. "A store for work wear across the street too. We should get both of us wide-brimmed hardhats, at the very least. And these hiking boots are nice but getting heavy duty boots too would be good. Maybe some insulated ones as well for when it gets cold." The thing about Texas is that usually it just gets cool in the winter, but sometimes it can get really cold.

"Ok, let's see if we can make spears here, at least."

The appropriate-sized dowling has all been taken already. It was hemlock softwood anyway though, and while hemlock would do in a pinch it is less than ideal. We find ash closet rods that are nice and long, while being a relatively comfortable diameter to grip. They have two dozen, but the grain of most is unsuitable. The grain twisting and turning through the piece makes the wood easy to break, since only a fraction of the strands of grain will need to break and the rest can simply split.

There is one where the grain is nearly straight and we decide that will be Anat's. Another where the grain pretty straight for the first two thirds which isn't too bad since the rear part of the staff won't take as much strain, and decide that will be Ellie's. I want a short spear that is easier to wield with a shield, so I take one where the grain in the middle is straight, since the ends can be cut off. We take four more where at least half the length at one end is straight, and three more where one end has grain that's a bit bent but enough of the rest is straight to make somewhat shorter spears out of them.

There are two hard parts to making the spears. The first is drilling out the brass rivets of the knives with a hand-turned drill. Frankly, I'm incredibly glad that the store has them. We'll be taking one with us for sure. And I want one of the bigger drills that cuts larger holes in wood as well. I don't have an immediate need, but it seems likely to come in handy. The one I use to drill out the rivets has a piece kinda like the stock of a gun that fits opposite the drill bit to lean against, pushing the drill bit into the material being drilled. Then I hold a handle on one side to keep the drill stable, while turning a handle forming a crank on the other side, attached to a short bar extending from the side of a large gear as big around as my palm. Turning the crank makes the large gear spin a smaller gear attached to the drill bit, multiplying the speed at which the drill bit turns compared to the crank. Drilling out the brass rivets sure makes me miss and appreciate my old cordless electric drill though.

Then comes sawing slots in the ends of the spear-shafts to take the tangs with a hand saw. It would be pretty easy except that the stainless steel blades are twice as thick as any sane kitchen knife, so then those slots have to be laboriously widened with thin files. Eventually, the tangs of the three carving knives fit the slots in the ends of two long and one short spear perfectly. Then it is time to drill holes for screws, and screw everything together.

With the spear-tips attached, Anat finds some outdoor carpets to test cut. She comes back with two concerns. The round shaft makes it hard to tell what direction the edge of the blade is oriented in, making cutting hard. And she is concerned that the slots for the spear tips may split the poles. To deal with the first part, I get a rasp and remove wood from the sides of the spear shafts in the middle of the shaft. I flatten the sides along half of the length of her and Ellie's spears, starting a foot below the part where the head was attached. This turns the round shafts into an oval or lozenge-shaped cross-section, longer in the direction of the cutting edge of the spear tips. Gripping the flattened section makes it easy to feel where the edge of the blade is now, so the edge can be properly aligned with the direction of the cut. I do the same to the section of the spear I'll grip.

Unlike the spears for Ellie and Anat, I plan to hold mine in one hand so I can use the shield. So I won't be sliding my hand along the length of the spear shaft the way Anat will with her long spear. Anat smooths the roughly rasped wood with a couple of finer files, and Ellie sands the surfaces smooth.

To ensure that the wood doesn't split, we wind the end of each spear with the wire from a wire coat hanger. I start by wrapping the wire around tightly, then twisting it with pliers so that it cinches tighter still. Then after a few twists, I press the twisted wire flat against the wood, wrap the ends around to the other side and repeat the process again. After a few more times, the ends of the spear shafts are reinforced with tightly-wrapped heavy steel wire. Anat tests again and is pleased. We seal the wood with a coat of fast-drying varnish.

By now it is probably around noon and we are all getting hungry again. It will take a while for the varnish to dry, so we eat another meal of canned food.

"I felt like I'm getting a lot better control of my flames." Anat says. "I'll need to figure out how other elements work, but that's an easy one to visualize and control. And I imagine it will be handy in a fight."

"I feel my qi far more strongly than I ever did before. But I'm not sure what to do with it. Though I remember when I was learning taijiquan, the sifu said that when using a weapon that one's qi should flow through the weapon, so I guess I'll try to learn to do that."

"I cut myself," Ellie says. "I was able to completely heal it in only a minute. I feel like that's only the beginning too."

We chat for a while, and agree that we should start experimenting with learning each others' skills and seeing how it might be possible to combine those abilities. As we are eating and talking, two tall, muscular men with crew cuts walk up in police uniforms. One has olive skin and black hair, the other has sandy hair and looks like he tans.

"Did you all pay for this stuff?" One demands.

I stand up, and set my stance and intention to show I'm ready for violence if needed. I remember from when we dated that Anat will probably do just fine handling the situation verbally though. I'm really glad I'm with her in all this. I know better than to think I could survive very long having to choose between letting people step all over me, or going with full on intimidation and fighting anyone who didn't back down. Instead, I'll play bad cop, and let Anat be the good cop. Or, at least the less bad one.

"You see what's going on?" Anat demands. "I think we're a bit past that, don't you?"

Both of them start laughing.

"Don't mind him, he's just an asshole," says the other one.

"Hey, how do you know it's all really over? Maybe there was an EMP attack!"

"Come on, man, EMP doesn't make gunpowder stop working!"

"EMP doesn't do this, either." Anat claps her hands then opens them, palm up. And for a brief moment a mass of fire as big as a campfire flashes between and above her hands. It is at least ten times as big as her first flame, and I can feel the heat two arm's lengths away.

"Holy hell, what was that?"

"That was magic, boys. Whatever fucked up all the tech in the world made fucking magic real." I'm not used to Anat swearing so much. I guess she's putting up a tough front to the cops.

"How did you do that?"

"Will and intention."

Both of the guys try clapping their hands but nothing happens.

"Sadly, willful intention isn't as easy as wishing for something. It takes long hard work. Just like anything else."

"How could you practice long and hard, if magic just came to be."

"Well, maybe there was a little bit of magic before. Or maybe I was just crazy. Who knows. All I know is that the witchcraft I practiced since I was a kid works now." She grins as one of the cops crosses himself. "Now, you gotta ask yourself, do you want an ally who can do that, or not."

"You're kinda scary. But yeah." It's the cop who crossed himself. At least he's pragmatic. "Call me Rogers." He holds out his hand, and Anat gives him her best firm salesperson handshake.

"You remind me of that crazy ex girlfriend of mine, actually. But, call me Johnson, I guess."

"But I can make fire with a thought, so it's okay right?"

"Um, that wasn't exactly the word I was thinking of."

"Don't worry, guys," I cut in. "I used to date her, and I can promise you this. No matter what, things are never boring when Anat is around. And you wouldn't want to be bored in the wasteland, now would you?" Anat shoots me an icy look but I just smile back.

"Oh, yeah. I knew she was just like my ex."

"Should I be jealous?" The other cop asks.

"Shit, it isn't my fault you never dated some hot crazy bitch."

"I mean, seems like you are still thinking about her a lot."

"Sure, kinda like PTSD."

"Riiiiight."

I find myself wondering if the two are partners, outside of the force as well.

Since they have riot shields, after we get back to business they make short spears as well. There are a couple of other remaining closet rods with sections of straight grain long enough for the purpose. They make a couple of innovations. The first is adding galvanized steel steel pipe flanges as disk guards since we won't be sliding our hands along the spear shaft. Their next idea is using some galvanized tie strips meant for reinforcing lumber joints to create first rudimentary knuckle bows, then add other strips to make a crude basket hilt.

"It won't last forever," Rogers says, "but there's nothing forever about this gear anyway."

The two cops are pretty well equipped already with their own riot gear. They pick out a couple of the sling blade brush cutting hooks on the principle that such might be useful later on. Also both grab small hatchets, and we put a good-sized wood cutting ax, a splitting maul, crowbar, brush cutting saw, and other basic tools we feel are likely to be needed in another shopping cart. It doesn't take a lot of energy to push and we reason that we can take turns pushing the two carts.

The rest of us find leather gloves, and Ellie and I take plastic hardhats. I agree with her that the round-brimmed ones would provide better protection in a fight, but any protection for the head is better than none. We grab various tools like hand-cranked drills, drill bits, rivet-setters, containers of rivets, O and D rings that can be used to rig armor when we make some, compact and regular hack saws, lots of hacksaw blades, a variety of files, and short nails that can also be cut off and hammered into rivets. Then we pack up the rest of our gear and head out.

Ellie directs us toward an industrial area where she says we'll find the co-op which has a tack shop upstairs, a metalworking supply store, and a work wear shop. It's a neighborhood of dilapidated shops, houses that have been turned into shops, and an occasional small apartment building that has seen better days. In any direction we look, something is burning, usually a few different columns of smoke of various sizes.

Along the way we see lots of stalled cars. Some sit in the middle of the street where they rolled to a stop. Some are parked at a not-quite-right angle, and some have just run off the road. There are also lots of partially eaten corpses, and we have to put down dozens of crazed victims of whatever magical fluke made their neural augmentation hardware malfunction. We are all getting better at fighting though. Even Ellie is getting in solid jabs during the fights now.

"So, do you guys feel a sense of absorbing energy from the zombies when we fight them?" I ask the two cops.

"I'm feeling it when I stab them," says Ellie.

"Yeah, what do you think it is, XP?" asks Johnson.

"XP? Shit..." Says Rodgers. "It feels like some kind of life force to me."

"I agree. Do you feel it collecting in you? In your body or spirit?"

"Good question," says Rodgers. "I can't say I do."

"I do!" says Ellie. "It feels weird. Alien. At least foreign to my self, and my own personal ki, but also not part of the ki of the universe."

"Try dissolving it into your energy."

"Oh wow, yeah, that works," Ellie says a few minutes later.

"I'm going to need to figure out what you two are doing," says Anat.

"I don't have any idea what any of you are talking about," says Johnson.

We continue through the deserted streets, passing occasional dead bodies that have all been partly eaten, leaving pools of blood on the streets and sidewalks. It isn't until we've walked for half an hour that we find another survivor, also pushing a shopping cart.

"Fingers!" Shouts one of the cops.

"D'ya buy all that?!?" calls the other one.

The man looks like he's about to reflexively run, when he sees our shopping carts and his face turns from fear to a scowl. He has the blondest blond hair I've ever seen that's real, and piercing blue eyes. What saves him from being the perfect ideal is his slight stature and build, and his ratlike narrow face.

"What the fuck about yours?" he yells.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"These? Well, the world came to an end and we have to forage to survive."

"Then why're ya harassing me? For fucks sakes!"

"We weren't harassing anyone."

"Just asking a friendly question by way of greeting."

"Yeah, what's the harm in that?"

"It's your lucky day Fingers. We're on the same side for once."

"Why the fuck'd I wanna be on yer side? Or you on mine, for that matter?"

"Six is better than one, right?"

"And you just happen to be about the best lock picker in east Texas."

"Sounds like a useful skill. And you seem decent with that spear," says Anat.

"Fine, but from now on it's Cas, ya hear?"

"Sure thing Cas."

"Where'd you get the spear?" I ask.

"Outdoor store, few blocks that way." He gestures back the way he came. "Got these real nice machetes too." It reminds me that I still have that machete I bought years ago, but my apartment is clear across town. He has a scabbard slung over his shoulder and pulls a wicked-looking blade that looks like a long kukri with a gentler curve akin to a kopis. The acute point and the angle between blade and handle look like stabbing would be quite efficient, with the angle turning the handle into effectively a pistol grip. "3V tool steel. Chrome moly. Note quite stainless but rust resistant and tough as nails." Ok, that old machete was nowhere near that nice. "Sorry," he continues, sounding more gloating than apologetic, "this was the last recurve hunting bow. There was a crossbow that looked pretty badass but I learned to shoot a bow when I was younger."

"The machetes sound like good backups to our spears." Anat says. "We should probably take the crossbow too. It's sure to come in handy."

"Hell yeah!" the two cops say almost in unison. We follow Cas back to the outdoor store, explaining our next destinations to him as we go. Having already stocked up on most of what there is to offer here, Anat, Ellie, and I are mostly just there for the machetes. I'm quite happy. The machetes have 18 inch blades as long as from Anat's elbow to the tip of her fingers. The full tang has a hole at the butt end to attach a hanging loop or lanyard to. The handle is made of plastic scales that are screwed into place. I try to figure out a relatively easy way to make a knuckle-bow that could be added to make the machetes work more like short sabers.

"It would be nice to put a false edge on this so it penetrates better," Anat says.

"We got those files," I offer.

"Good luck with that!" says Cas. "The world will probably end the rest of the way before you finish filing a false edge into tool steel with an ordinary file. Like trying to file a file with another file, get it?"

"Yeah."

"You need carbide or diamond grit to get anywhere in any kind of reasonable time."

"The metalworking store might have something like that," Ellie suggests.

"Good thinking." I smile. With or without false edges and hand guards, those machetes are realistically forever weapons. There simply isn't much that is higher quality.

"What I wouldn't give for a real sword," says Anat. "However, Musashi said he preferred the wakizashi over the katana when fighting indoors, so these might actually be a better backup to our spears."

"Because sometimes more reach gets in the way? I guess I'd have prefered an SMG to a sniper rifle indoors for similar reasons."

"There's no perfect weapon. Just the ideal weapon in a particular context." Someone said that in a YouTube video I watched.

We collect more outdoor stuff here that the mall store didn't bother stocking. Firestarters, balaclavas, thermal socks and underwear. Washable jersey sleeping bag liners to keep our bags cleaner. Rodgers and Johnson get sleeping bags, cots, and thermal liners too.

"How do we want to handle tents?" I hollar.

"I go a two-man tent for me," Cas answers."

"Having our own tents in our rucks would be good if we are separated or if there isn't room for a big tent," says Ellie.

"I like that idea. But I'd prefer a big tent for all of us to make it harder for someone to pick us off one by one," Anat answers. The two cops agree with her and I can't fault their logic.

"How about this?" says Ellie. "This is modular. A dome-shaped central shelter with removable sides, then 3-person half-dome tents zip into it." 3 of the sides of the central shelter have mesh windows and one has a door. The tall side of the smaller tents can be unzipped and rolled to open into the central space, while the other side has a door.

"Of course, realistically a 3-person tent is better for two," says Johnson.

"Yeah," Rogers agrees. Everyone else nods.

"So, how about if Rogers, Johnson, and Cas can carry the half-dome tents. I'll carry the shelter, and everyone else carry two-person tents in case you are separated," I suggest.

"Let's grab an extra half-dome tent in case we add more to the party," says Anat.

"We're gonna break these carts takin' everything." Cas laughs.

We head out, taking turns pushing the carts.

"What are your first names?" Anat asks the two cops.

"I'm Shaun, s-h-a-u-n," says Rogers.

"And I'm Sean, s-e-a-n," says Johnson.

"So, Rogers and Johnson. Got it," Anat says with a smile.

We come across the bodies of two more cops, a heavily built man and a small-statured woman.

"Goddam," says Johnson.

"Kelly and Sam were good cops," says Rodgers. I think their gear will fit you two pretty well though. It would be a shame for it to go to waste."

"I'm sorry your friends died," says Ellie.

"A lot of people died. Some good, some bad. That's the way shit like this goes." Rogers says. I think he's distancing himself now. Ellie must pick up on it too because she doesn't say anything else as she takes the woman's bulletproof vest, with a tag that says "S. Harvey." We get their riot gear out of the back, putting the shields in one of the carts since I already have one. One of the shields is small and round, the other the more usual rectangle. Anat eyes the small one thoughtfully.

I feel safer with some armor, even if there are a lot of gaps in it. Putting metal over this, with the riot armor adding padding and rigidity seems like it will work well. And the kevlar helm makes me feel like old times. Wearing it makes me think of an idea I had how to make a simple medieval helmet using sheet steel. Riveting the metal to the military-style helm would be extremely robust and an effective helmet design. It might also fairly be called dorky-looking.

After a half hour of walking and a half dozen more zombie fights, we enter an area of light industrial buildings. Small warehouses, truck garages, yards of tarped equipment surrounded by cyclone fences topped by barbed wire or concertina. We soon reach the farmers' co-op. We pass it by, as nobody can think of anything we need there. For now.

"Eventually we could make gruel from animal feed. Horse, chicken. That kind of thing. Sort of like what they ate in medieval times."

"Hell with that!" says Johnson, sounding half joking. "I mean sure, torture me, but gruel made from chicken feed? Getting THAT medieval is just uncalled for!"

There's a body in a pool of dried blood on the sidewalk outside the tack and leather shop. Another lies in the street with a baseball bat-sized dent in its head and an arm broken at a grotesque angle. A third has its head misshapen after multiple savage blows. The door of the tack shop is locked. Cas spends such a brief few seconds picking the lock that I don't know who to be more embarrassed for, the owner or the manufacturer.

"Shit," says Johnson, "fine." Rodgers laughs at him. I'm guessing they had a bet on how long it would take.

I lead the way into the building and we pass two more bodies killed by blows to the head, and another man with his throat torn open in a pool of blood. There are streaks on the floor where he struggled to crawl with bloody hands.

"Jeez, this is a mess."

We are checking what materials the shop has for making armor when we are all surprised to hear a door open.

"Who the fuck?" comes a weak voice.

We turn around and after a moment, I realize it's Stefan, but without the hat or duster. His face is unnaturally red and he's leaning against the wall with his left hand, a bandage is wrapped around his left forearm. A baseball bat hangs limply from his right hand.

"Stefan, what are you doing here?" Anat steps forward.

"I fucking live here. What - oh, Anat. Long time no see."

"Are you ok?" she asks.

"I'm pretty fucking far from ok. I got bit. Managed to stop the bleeding. But only so much I could clean it. It's infected. Got a bad fever." He slides down the wall and sits on the floor, looking exhausted.

Ellie walks up next to him and squats, picking up his left arm. I can see the red streaks of a severe infection from here.

"You're in luck, Stefan. I'm a veterinarian." She smiles as he scowls back.

"Got a big syringe of horse antibiotics on you?"

"I don't, but it just so happens that the co-op does. But we might not need them. I do Reiki. And it works really well now."

"Oh your fucking magic world thing happened, huh? Hope you're happy," he says to Anat. She just smiles and holds a ball of flame. His eyes get wide.

"Shit," he says. "And Reiki, is that like healing?"

"A Japanese healing art, yeah. I was able to heal a small cut in a minute this morning. Let's see how it works on infections."

"Ok. If it doesn't give me the runs like antibiotics always do, so much the better."

"First, lets look at this wound. You all can go back to what you were doing, by the way."

We turn away and resume looking at leatherworking stuff. That part of the shop is quite well supplied, even having whole cowhides.

"Always wanted to try making studded leather armor," says Cas.

"Studded leather armor didn't really exist in real life. What Gary Gygax thought was studded leather was really brigandine, and he thought brigandine didn't exist. And since D&D was the grandaddy of role-playing games, everyone else followed along for ages. And movies copied the look since studded leather was easier to make than metal armor props."

"Shit, so what're we lookin at leather for?"

"It can be used as a backing material with metal over it like scales or splints. It could be a facing material with metal under it as with brigandine. Or it can be used for straps and the like."

"So how are we going to use it then?"

"Well, that's a good question. Leather's pretty flexible. But we have a lot less ability to work metal. So we'll have to see what is available at the metal supply store, then go from there."

"Makes sense."

By the time we are done looking over the leather working supplies, Ellie has finished up with Stefan. He looks tired, but his color is normal, and his arm now just has an ugly scar instead of the former livid wound.

"I feel like I could sleep for a day, but I hear you are going over to the metal supply store to make armor."

"Yeah, that's our next stop," says Anat.

"Mind if I join you."

"Of course not."

"Anat knows you. And we saw what you did to those zombies," says Rodgers. "Clearly you can handle yourself. Welcome to the team."

"Was the one whose head was smashed in the one that bit you?"

"Probably. One of the ones outside?"

"Yeah."

"I might have let loose on him afterward. Bill James was always an asshole. He's had that coming for a long time."

"Shit, you knew him?" asks Ellie.

"I know practically all the regulars."

"Damn, that's cold," says Rodgers. I can hear the cop in his voice.

For my part, I'm staying out of that conversation.

"Let's head over to the metal shop while it's still light," Anat redirects everyone's attention, to a chorus of approving murmurs. Stefan puts on worn military body armor and helmet that covers his body with ballistic panels from shoulders to thighs, with a hard plastic pads like the riot gear over his elbows, knees and shins.

"Mind if I take the crossbow?" Stefan asks Anat.

"Sure thing," she replies like it was her call. Not like anyone probably would have objected, but stil. Stefan takes the weapon and aims it experimentally.

We aren't attacked immediately as we enter the metal shop, but there is a partially eaten woman's body just inside the front doors. Rogers, Johnson, and I form a shield wall in front of the group as we move forward, spears at the ready. Ellie is flanked by Cas on one side, while Anat is flanked by Stefan with the crossbow on the other.

"Shouldn't I be on the outside with my spear?" suggests Anat. He just stares at her until she says "Fine," and looks forward.

We round a corner in the narrow aisles and run right into two zombies. Strange that they never attack each other, come to think of it. It's the way it works in all the movies, so I never thought about it before. But logically, why shouldn't they go after each other? Maybe they will eventually when other food is scarce and they get hungry. Who knows. We obviously have never trained to fight together like this and are extremely clumsy and get in each other's way. But we still make short work of the two by sheer force of numbers and superior equipment. After that, we check the rest of the building and find only a man who bled out in a locked office. No more zombies.

Where the Home Depot was stripped bare of sheet metal, this place has more than any of us know what to do with. Particularly attractive to me is 2mm, 4mm, and 6mm sheet stock of 455 stainless steel in one meter lengths that are square, half a meter, a quarter meter, 10 centimeters, 5 centimeters and 25 centimeters wide. In researching the material The Slab is made of, 13-8 stainless, I remember seeing a mention that 455 has similar properties. If so, it has strength on par with all but the very strongest exotic high-alloy carbon steels. But it also has superb toughness which is usually at odds with strength because a strong metal resists deforming, which makes it brittle. And being resistant to corrosion and nearly immune to rust will be helpful to reduce the burden of maintenance that our armor is subject to.

That said, the prospect of trying to form such a metal with the tools we have is daunting. Even worse are four grades of titanium alloy the store carries in 1mm, 2mm, 3mm, and 5mm sheets that are 1m long by 5, 10, 25, 50, or 100 cm wide. The key difference in the Titanium grades are the amount of costly vanadium, ranging from none in the commercially pure titanium to ten percent of the highest grade alloy. The most popular of the high-grade alloys is in between with four percent, and another has about half that.

While the lightness of titanium is attractive for armor, the 455 stainless steel is almost as strong as the most exotic titanium pound for pound, is tougher, and is easier to work. I'm also concerned that since titanium work hardens so aggressively when worked, that taking repeated blows would quickly make the armor brittle.

What I'd really love though is to forge The Slab into a cuirass, bevor, and helm. It saved my life, and I've been putting energy into the idea of it being the thing that keeps me solidly grounded and internally safe for years. But working such a large and solid piece of metal would take a proper forge, and I have no idea where to find one. I look at our other options.

The easiest option to work with would be basic A36. It isn't stainless or anything exotic but it is at least on par with good late medieval steel used in armor. On the other hand 304 stainless isn't much softer, and has the benefit of being rust resistant.

There are both 6061 and 7075 aluminum there too, but those would need to be tempered and quenched to be effective as armor and we'd need a forge for that.

One of my problems in life is that I've always been able to see too many ways to do things. I see so many pros and cons to each that I get stuck overthinking. I need an outside opinion. So I gather everyone together to discuss our options.

After going over everything, everyone sits and thinks for a bit.

"Perfect is the enemy of good enough," Anat says. There's a flurry of conversation, but that seems to be the consensus.

"So, A36 or 304 stainless?"

"I'd rather not worry about rust," says Rogers, and it becomes clear that most of the others agree.

There is some more discussion then it is time to put armor together. We don't want to do a lot of cutting and to keep shaping simple for now, so we can get useful armor as soon as possible. I suggest using scale to provide a degree of protection from more precise attacks against areas that need to be flexible, then turning large sheets of stainless steel into something akin to the thigh and shoulder panels of samurai armor to provide greater defense against large blows with heavy weapons. But I feel that its important that everyone understands the tradeoffs of scale before I go that route.

"Scale is flexible and easy to make, and great at deflecting slashing attacks, but it lets any attack that stabs upward under the scales to slip right through."

"So, it is more about making it difficult to wound you, not to prevent it entirely?" Cas asks.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"And what areas would scale be used?" asks Stefan.

"Arms, especially the elbows, but I think the front of the upper arms, and the area around the shoulder joint."

"Do the scales have to overlap downward like shingles on a roof?" Anat asks.

"Um, I don't see why we would have to, but that's what I've always seen. Why?"

"Well, on the legs, it would make sense to do that, because blows will probably be directed downward. But if I hold my arm out," She pulls her machete and points it, "any attacks will be going up my arm from wrist toward shoulder. So it would be better for the scales to overlap upward."

"But if someone hits you in say the arm or shoulder with a blow from above, wouldn't that go downward and get caught under the scales?" asks Rogers.

"Sure, but won't we have large plates over that area too?"

"Ok, that sounds like a good starting plan. If anyone wants something different, we can always make theirs another way."

"How are you thinking of making the leg armor work?" asks Johnson.

"Most leg armor in history has been basically an armored skirt. I'd say, down to below the knee, and then have greaves that go up to just above the knee, with the two overlapping at the knee to give extra protection to the joint."

"So scale all of the way around?"

"Well, making scale is a lot of work and that takes time. I was thinking make enough scale to protect the middle front between our legs, then hang curved plates from the waist to protect the front and sides."

"I gotta be able to sneak around," says Cas. "I think I'll stick with the riot armor because it is light at least and doesn't rattle. I figure I'll be trying to avoid fights anyway."

"Do we stick with our riot helmets?" asks Anat. "Kevlar is great, I just worry after getting hit enough times by axes or whatever it will get damaged."

"There's a design I came up with for making a simple helm from sheet steel," I say. "I think it would fit well over Kevlar. Don't hate me though. I'll make a mockup."

I leave everyone else to talk while I get some thin sheet metal that can be cut with simple snips. I start with a meter square piece of sheet metal and mark out a section that is half as wide in the center and about a third of a meter long on the outer edges. The area where there is a simple shallow triangle in between would need to have overlapping tabs to rivet together, but this will work for the mockup. I cut along the lines with snips and use duct tape to join the edges, making a cone that has two descending points on either side. Resting it on top of my kevlar helm, the points hang down to either side of my face, providing added protection against wide swings toward my neck, while the brim in front provides good visibility. I apply duct tape to hold it together temporarily.

There's one more thing I want to mock up while I'm at it, which is the breastplate I've had in mind for as long as the helmet. I start with another meter square piece and cut out sections on either side that are a quarter of the width and stop 15 centimeters from the edge. Those protrusions will wrap around under the arms. Then I leave strips three fingers wide on either side of the center section, and cut out the part in the middle down to half the width. I pinch the upper part of what remains into a triangle in the center of the piece and let it smooth out toward the bottom edge which I curl to a rounded shape that will roughly fit around my waist. The long strips will be shoulder straps so I bend them down until they meet and join them with duct tape, then cut off the extra length. Then I find some rope in one of the store rooms, tie it around that point and leave two ends hanging, knotting the ends. I duct tape small loops of rope to the ends of the parts that are to wrap around my sides to form toggle and loop joints that can easily be attached and undone.

When I hang the mocked-up breastplate over my shoulders it hangs down to about my belly button in the front, and extends up to just below my mouth at the top, but the point causes the top front edge to project forward a hand-and-a-half in front of my face. Combined with the wide brim of the helm, normally my breath and vision are unobstructed. But if I duck my head, my face slips behind the projection, so I'll just need to add some holes for vision when ducking my head, but the mockup works for the present purposes.

Showing the others my work gets everyone talking and soon they decide we should make mockups of as much of the rest of the armor as possible, at least of the main plates. What we come up with looks like some kind of takeoff on samurai armor, but with more contoured plates over the shoulders that are pulled forward to better cover the shoulder joints. We try to keep the shapes as simple as possible so there is less cutting, but eventually give up on that, at least for the shoulder guards which are made in shape like a P or 9, with the lower part extending down and past the side of the elbow to guard the joint against blows, and the rounded part near the top extending across above the elbow and in front of the shoulder joint so as not to interfere with flexing the arm. Then the very top rises above the shoulder and is bent down to create a crude shoulder cop. It will take a lot of cutting which nobody looks forward to, but will prevent the round part that goes in front of the shoulder catching on the rest of the armor while moving the arm.

Nothing about the armor will be perfect protection, but in combination with the scale, it will be pretty good, especially since we make it so it will fit over the padded riot armor with the rigid plastic reinforcement. We decide to make the scale thinner, using metal that is only 1mm thick, since they will require a lot of cutting, and will overlap anyway. Everything else is 2mm thick armor, including bracers or bazubands around the forearms that extend around the sides and bottom of the elbow, and greaves that extend up around the front and sides of the knee and shin and close in the back with an extra panel that will be attached by leather straps. The waist is a cone of metal that requires a fair bit of cutting as well, and which is a pain. The top edge will be padded and it will pull tight around the wearer's waist to carry the weight of the lower armor on their hips.

It takes a while to figure out how to make the upper armor work with such a waist too, like the wasp waists of medieval plate armor. Eventually we figure out to taper the breastplate so it is kind of a cone, though that requires again, more cutting. At least it will distribute the weight better than it would otherwise.