“Plug your ears and duck.” I tell the other three a few seconds before three explosions rock the front of the building.

Some shrapnel ends up coming through the open front door, bouncing off the walls, but luckily doesn't hit any of us with force.

Ivy’s gun fires twice before the bandits outside recover enough for retaliation fire to come. I can hear a few hysterically laughing people rushing the front door.

“Get ready. Yell whenever you’re reloading.” I say just before the first of them steps into our line of fire.

She’s been shredded by the grenades. A dozen gaping wounds spurt out blood with every movement. Large chunks of skin and muscle are missing, revealing the shining bone below.

I’m never going to get her laugh out of my head. A wet, gurgling sound from a punctured lung. She’s a slow, lumbering target and goes down immediately. She laughs on the ground until her last breath. Freaks.

Ian doesn't stop firing into her body until his magazine runs dry. I’m glad I didn’t give him the rifle. Percy and Blackwell are much more composed.

Percy looks almost giddy to be able to finally get his revenge. Blackwell looks just about as serious as I’ve ever seen anyone. Her clinical approach is a little off-putting, but I’m glad she’s next to me.

More bandits stream in. Each one a little less shredded than the last. Bullet after bullet blasts into each one. The sounds of laughing filling the room.

It doesn't take long for more of them to flood in than we can deal with. Several of them even manage to take cover at the other end of the room. Luckily I had a plan.

I grab the last pipe bomb, strike a match on the floor, and light it.

“Duck!” I yell as I throw it to the other side of the room. One bandit reaches out to throw it back with zero fear.

Luckily the fuses on these things are super short.

As soon as he picks it up it explodes in his hand. His body absorbs a large amount of the shrapnel, blowing off his entire arm at the shoulder. Somehow, he survives. We’re not going to win an extended firefight against nearly immortal drug addicts.

“Cover me!” I draw my knife and sprint around the edge of the room, firing while I move to try to keep them in cover. I’ve only got a few moments until the survivors recover.

It only takes two heartbeats to reach the other end of the room.

Three separate bandits are still ducking behind whatever cover they could find. The first I come to doesn't see me coming. I drive my knife into the nape of his neck. Once again I cleanly sever a man’s spinal cord. I wish I didn’t have to be so good at this.

The two others don’t hear his death, but they do notice his silence. They turn to me and begin to level their rifles.

I pull the trigger on my pistol, only to hear it click.

Fuck.

It has to jam now of all times? I don’t have time to clear it.

I move to put the closer monster in between me and the further one. He can’t shoot for the moment, that has to be good enough.

I drive my legs as hard as they will go and reach out to knock his gun out of the way an instant before he fires. I barrel straight into him, trying to push him back to close the distance to the further one. The only reason he doesn't fall to the ground is because his friend catches him.

I don’t have time to ensure I get a clean kill. Instead, I swipe out with my knife twice, severing the tendons in his wrists. His rifle clatters uselessly to the floor.

Though he’s unarmed, he’s not done fighting. He tries to swipe my legs out from under me only to hit my prosthetics. I can hear his shin crack as he connects. That’s not going to stop him either, but it does throw him off balance.

I shove the injured one to the side, leaving me face to face with the last one in cover.

Behind me I can hear my allies firing as yet more bandits come flooding into the building. I wish Ivy or Vince were here, but I just have to trust that they’ll keep me safe.

One thing I haven’t heard beyond the first two shots is Ivy’s gun. She better be ok. I have to trust she is. Focus.

The man in front of me lost his gun when the two of them collided. He’s pulled out a wicked looking, well-used combat knife.

Well that makes things easy. I drop my knife and dive backwards, easily avoiding his swing.

He dives after me, but before he can land I’ve already pulled out one of the shotguns and have the barrel pressed to his head. He collapses next to me, and I finish off the last remaining man with one of the rifles on the ground. Nobody wins in a knife fight.

I reload my pistol and place it back in its holster. I am not being caught dry again. I won’t survive a mistake like that twice.

I take the rifle once again and begin to take careful shots at the people still struggling to get in the door.

How many were out there? There’s already a small, but steadily growing, pile of corpses in the center of the room.

Fighting only lasts a few more seconds before the flow of bodies finally stops. There’s over a dozen bodies spread about, I wonder if that’s everyone? I’ll worry about that later, I still haven’t seen Ivy.

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“Blackwell! Help Ivy upstairs! Ian, Percy, watch the door!”

Blackwell doesn't hesitate and starts sprinting upstairs. I run up as well and while I’m way faster, I’m also further away. We crest the top of the stairs at the same time.

Ivy has propped herself against the wall. She’s taken her shirt off and has a very obvious bullet wound in her side. She’s already pulled the bullet out with a pair of tweezers and is trying to sew the wound shut.

“Blackwell!” She tries to call out happily, but her face shows her pain. “Give me a hand here, would you?”

“Did it hit anything vital?” Blackwell doesn't even hesitate before getting to work.

“I don’t think so. There’d be more blood if it did.” She says casually.

“You’re going to be alright, right Ivy?” I ask her.

“Of course. How do you think Lucas would handle it if I died?”

“Alright, I’m going to go clear outside if anyone’s left.”

“Sounds like you’re in more danger than me.” At least she’s feeling good enough to joke. That’s a good sign.

I head back downstairs without another word. With my pistol and knife in my hands I stop in front of the front door to listen. While I don’t hear anything, chances are there are still people outside.

I slowly sweep my eyes and gun across the landscape as I step through the door. A single, screaming man rushes me with a makeshift wooden club the second I reveal myself. What in the world? Are they out of guns maybe?

His club comes down vertically, trying to bash my head in a single strike. I step aside and bring my foot down on the club, shattering it. This one, strangely, isn’t laughing. I level my pistol at his head and can actually see fear in his eyes. That’s weird.

“Don’t shoot!” He cries out while putting both his hands in the air. That’s even weirder.

“Keep your hands where I can see them.” I say while keeping an eye open on our surroundings, just in case. I put my knife in its sheath, reach into my bag with one hand and toss a few cable ties at his feet. “Tie your hands together. Now!”

“Alright alright alright!” His panicked yelling doesn’t stop him from tying one of them around each wrist and connects them with a third tie.

“Percy! Make sure Ian doesn't shoot either of us. I’m bringing a prisoner in.”

I push this bandit through the door first, always keeping my pistol against the back of his head. If Ian freaks out and shoots, I’d rather he die than me.

The bandit hesitates when he sees the pile of his friends, but I keep him moving.

Percy has already taken Ian’s gun, thankfully. I’m not sure if he has the presence of mind to not shoot everything that moves. I push the bandit onto the ground in the corner of the room.

“I’ve got a few questions for you.” I say while never letting my pistol waver from his head. “Are there any more of you out there?”

“I don’t think so!” He’s terrified.

“It’s a yes or no question.”

“No! It was just me!”

I’m happy to see Percy doesn’t take him at his word. He keeps his gun aimed at the front door.

“Why the fuck were there only Silver’s people down there?”

“I- I don’t know!”

“Like hell you don’t.” I say coldly as I draw my knife. He’s not laughing in my face, so I assume that means he’s sober.

“Look! I really don’t! I’m not one of them!”

“I don’t have time for this.” It’s a bluff, but a pretty good one I think. I bring my blade to his neck with no intention of killing him. Since Ivy’s hurt I still need him to help carry the two downstairs.

“Wait! Please!” He starts to beg. “I swear!”

“Then explain, fucker.”

“I- I was part of a caravan! We paid the toll and they surrounded us! They told us to join or die! So- so I joined! They gave me a club and told me we’d be attacking this building. Said if I kill you I get to leave!”

“Who did you work for? What caravan?” I don’t remove my knife. It’s done pretty well at getting him to talk.

“Riven Roads Shipping!” He says without any hesitation.

It’d be tough to lie that convincingly that quickly in a situation like this. I put my knife back in its sheath. And turn to head upstairs.

“What’s your name?” I glance back and ask.

“Zach.”

“Percy, if Zach tries to run, shoot him.”

Percy gives a grim smile in response and turns Vince’s rifle on him.

When I reach the second floor I can see Blackwell has finished sewing Ivy up and is wrapping a bandage tightly over it. I was downstairs for less than two minutes, how the hell did she do that so quickly with only one hand?

“Outside is clear, I think. I also got a volunteer to help us get everyone home.”

“Good. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to carry my weight right now.” Ivy says.

“Go give everyone food. We’ll leave in 15 minutes.” Blackwell orders. I have no problem taking orders from people I barely know if they’re good ones.

Fifteen minutes later on the dot everyone is together in the lobby. Valerie and Bernie have been brought up together by Zach, Blackwell and I.

Three makeshift handles have been installed into the sheet of metal they’re laying on. Zach and Blackwell take the two at the front and I take the back alone. This would be much easier if I lost my arms along with my legs, but I think I can do it. It’s only three quarters of a mile to the tower.

The nine of us start our slow plod in silence. There’s no way to improve our odds of getting home. We just have to hope we look so pathetic nobody decides to rob us. Luckily, according to Vince at least, killing people trying to get injured back is pretty frowned upon.

Ivy is the only real protection we have, and even she’s barely able to walk. Ian and Percy use each other as a crutch to hop their way across the landscape and can’t hold a gun. Blackwell only has one hand, and Zach essentially also only has one. No way am I letting him free of his cuffs and giving him a gun. The last person, who’s name I never got, is missing both of her arms.

As we walk I do my best to not look at the two people on the stretcher. Their guts are back inside their bodies, but the large wounds along their torso are leaking pus.

What I can’t avoid however, is the smell. Lucas would faint if he were in my situation. His nose is way better than anyone else’s in the group.

People open their metal windows to watch as we pass. Once a single person in a skyscraper sees us, it only takes a few minutes for word to get around the city. It’s not often groups looking as bad as we do are seen walking. I can only hope they’re looking to give us cover, instead of looking for a kill.

Scrappers come out of abandoned buildings to watch our miserable parade. A few of them even start walking with us, either protecting us or helping take some of the weight of the stretcher. I guess there still is some good in this town.

It takes us half an hour to reach the tower. As soon as we’re in view doctors and soldiers come rushing out of the garage. Glad to see they recognize us. For the last hundred feet they even try to take the stretcher away from me completely. I don’t let them. I’ve made it this far, I can carry them a little further.

We bring them into a permanent clinic in the garage. Doctors from every group have been called down to help. They rush all the injured onto their own cots, including forcing Ivy to stay with them. I collect Lucas and Vince’s guns and strap them to my backpack.

“Ivy, I’ll be back. Sorry if I don’t leave enough of him for you to get your revenge.”

“Don’t worry about it. Give him hell.”