Tommy gripped the steering wheel tight as he drove the lead van eastward towards Salt Lake City. Laila sat tense beside him, her eyes fixed on the side mirror.

Micky leaned between the seats. “Maybe it was a joke? Maybe someone’s just trying to screw with us.”

“Yeah,” Jimbo said. “This whole thing could be a big fat nothing burger.”

“Didn’t sound like a joke,” Tommy said.

“I guess Zero did kind of kill some of their people,” Micky said.

Tommy’s eyes flicked to the side mirror, catching sight of the dust clouds billowing behind them in the distance. “Crap. I think we might have company.”

“You sure?” Jimbo asked.

“Maybe.” Tommy spoke through gritted teeth. “But we can’t afford to let our guard down.”

“Damn straight,” Laila said, her voice firm. “Whatever’s out there, we’ll face it together.”

“Everybody, buckle up. We’re about to kick some dust.” Tommy slammed on the gas, the van jolting forward as the engine roared.

Laila, Micky, and Jimbo exchanged uneasy glances.

Micky gripped Tommy’s headrest. “How close are they?”

“Close enough,” Tommy said, flicking on the walkie talkie. “Roxy, Zero, you there? We’ve got a situation.”

“Copy that,” Roxy’s voice crackled over the line. “We see them too.”

“Let’s give these bastards a run for their money, over,” Zero said, a hint of excitement seeping into his voice.

“Stay focused,” Tommy said. “We need to outrun them.”

“Got it.” Zero said. “Out.”

“Who the hell are they?” Micky asked.

“Does it matter?” Laila’s expression hardened. “They want us dead, and that’s enough.”

“We see you.” A taunting voice came through the walkie talkie. “You lot really think you can escape us?”

“Get bent!” Micky said, grabbing the device from Tommy’s hand.

“Feisty, aren’t we?” The voice chuckled. “But you’re only delaying the inevitable.”

“Tommy, look.” Laila pointed to the vehicles racing up behind them.

They were gaining ground, their engines snarling.

“Damn it. Hold tight everyone.” Tommy swerved the van off the road and onto a narrow dirt path. The other vans followed suit, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.

“You can’t outrun us,” the voice said.

“Keep it together, guys,” Roxy said. “We’ve faced worse than this.”

Micky sniffed and slammed his head back against the seat. “Have we?”

“They’re gaining.” Tommy smacked the steering wheel as one of the pursuing vehicles sped up.

“Come on, Tommy.” Laila gripped his shoulder. “We have to make it.”

Tommy pushed the pedal to the floor, the van juddering along the dirt road.

The vans screamed around a bend and Tommy slammed on the brakes.

He skidded to a halt, followed closely by the other vans in their convoy.

A pair of armed men stood at a makeshift roadblock, their pursuers screaching to a stop.

Laila’s eyes widened. “We’re trapped.” She turned to Tommy. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know.” Tommy glanced at the shotgun and bit down on his bottom lip. He kept his hand on the ignition, ready for a quick escape if the opportunity arose.

Three men approached, weapons drawn.

“Easy, now,” Tommy muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on the approaching figures.

“Get out, all of you.” A gun barrel tapped on the windscreen. “And no funny business.”

Laila gripped her tyre iron.

“Alright, alright.” Tommy sighed, forcing himself to keep calm even as his pulse raced. “We’re not moving.”

One of the men leered at their vehicles.

“Get out.” The lead robber glared up at Tommy.

“Please. We don’t want any trouble. Just let us go, and we’ll leave you be.”

“Is that so? Well maybe, you should’ve thought of that before you killed our men.”

“That wasn’t us. We’re just trying to survive, same as you. We can work something out, can’t we?”

The lead robber raised a walkie talkie to his mouth. “Do you think we’re stupid?” His voice filled the van. “You killed our men and took our supplies.”

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“It wasn’t like that. I’m sure we can work something—”

“Sorry, friend.” The robber narrowed his eyes. “Negotiations are over.”

Tommy’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t die here, not like this. He had people counting on him—Niamh, Sean, the band. He had to do something, anything, to stop this. But with five armed men circling around, he needed a plan.

Zero hopped from his van, rifle slung over his shoulder, his face a mask of determination. “Hold up. Let’s talk.”

Tommy watched in tense silence as Zero moved towards the gang.

“Bold move.” The lead robber eyed Zero’s rifle. “Put your rifle on the ground.”

Zero raised a hand. “That won’t be necessary.”

“You think not, huh?” The leader raised his pistol, aiming it at Zero. “I won’t ask you again, friend. Put the rifle down.”

Zero shook his head. “Look. We’re just some punk bands trying to get home. We don’t want any trouble. I’m sure we’ve got some supplies we can share. Just let us go and it’ll be a win-win for everyone.”

“You think this is kindergarten?” The lead robber raised his chin. “We’re not here to share.”

“We’re willing to give you half our supplies.”

“Half, huh?” The robber glanced at his comrades. “That’s a tempting offer…but I think we’ll take our chances with everything.”

Zero pursed his lips. “I can’t let you—”

A gunshot rang out and Zero crumpled to the ground.

Tommy froze.

The lead robber waved his pistol and paced between the vehicles. “Everybody step away from the vans now, or your friend here won’t be the only one bleeding out.”

Tommy hesitated for a split second, torn between his pacifist principles and the need to protect his friends. But as Micky and Jimbo climbed down from the van, he knew there was no other choice.

He grabbed the shotgun and leaned close to Laila. “Cover me.”

Before she could respond he crawled into the back and slipped out of Micky’s door.

“Hey!” Laila took a step toward the robbers. “You didn’t have to shoot him. What kind of sick bastards are you?”

“Shut your mouth, girl,” one of the robbers growled, grabbing her by the arm.

Seizing the moment, Tommy rolled underneath the van.

He gripped the shotgun tight. He’d never fired a weapon before—hadn’t ever wanted to. But now, as his friends’ lives hung in the balance, he couldn’t afford to hesitate.

“Let go of her!” Micky lunged at Laila’s captor.

“Back off, or you’re next,” the robber said shoving Laila away and taking aim at Micky.

Tommy peered out from under the van, his heart racing. With a deep breath, he steeled himself for what had to be done.

He lay flat under the van, gravel digging into his skin and the acrid scent of burning rubber stinging his nostrils.

Sweat dripped down his face.

Cold metal pressed against his clammy palm.

As Laila and Micky argued with the robbers, Tommy inched closer, the barrel of the shotgun scraping against the ground.

Every muscle in his body tensed. He could see their legs now.

He tried to steady his trembling hands. The whole world seemed to shrink down to this single moment, this one decision that could change everything.

Zero lay on the asphalt, blood soaking his clothes. He met Tommy’s eyes and gave a nod.

He didn’t want to be like Zero. He didn’t want to kill.

Tommy’s mind raced, searching for alternatives.

The robbers’ harsh laughter echoed in his ears, drowning out any hope of a peaceful resolution.

Tommy closed his eyes, grappling with his principles, the weight of the shotgun heavy in his hands. He took a deep breath and aimed the shotgun at the legs of the nearest robber.

He fired, the blast deafening in the still air.

The man let out a guttural scream as he dropped to the ground, clutching his mangled leg.

“Jesus Christ!” another robber shouted.

“Get ‘em!” Micky roared and leapt onto the nearest robber’s back, clawing at the man’s eyes.

Jimbo tackled another robber to the ground as Laila followed up with a swing of her tyre iron.

Roxy and Spike charged towards the remaining robbers, their movements swift and brutal.

“Get off me, you punk bitch!”

“Make me.” Roxy’s fist connected with the man’s jaw, sending him sprawling onto the cracked asphalt.

“Nice one.” Spike grabbed the last standing robber in a headlock. The man struggled against his grip, but it was no use. He was going down.

“Nix, help Zero!” Tommy shouted from under the van, his right ear ringing from the blast.

“Already on it.”

Tommy crawled out and rose to his feet. His heart thudded in his chest. He stared at the shotgun still clutched in his hand, clenched his jaw and gripped the weapon tighter.

“Tommy, you okay?” Laila asked.

“Fine.” His lip curled at the sight of the incapacitated robbers. “Roxy, Spike, let’s tie them up. We need to get moving.”

Roxy nodded. “Got it. Think there’s still some guitar leads in the van.”

“Keep them alive.” Tommy breathed heavily. “We’re not like them.”

Zero grinned at Tommy, his face spattered with blood. “Good work, Tommy boy.”

Tommy shook his head, staring at the carnage around him.

“Oi, Tommy,” Spike called out. “What about their bloody vehicles?”

“Right.” Tommy’s grip on the shotgun tightened as he stalked towards the pursuers’ cars.

With swift, calculated movements, he shot into each tyre, sending rubber and debris flying. “Grab anything useful.”

His bandmates nodded, rummaging through the wreckage and salvaging weapons and supplies.

As Roxy and Micky gathered ammunition, Jimbo picked up a machete. “This’ll do some damage.”

“Keep it together, yeah?” Tommy held Jimbo’s gaze, his voice tight.

“Relax, dude.” Jimbo tossed the machete from hand to hand. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Focus,” Tommy snapped, his patience wearing thin.

Jimbo rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright.”

“Let’s just get out of here in one piece, okay?” He strode over to Zero and Nix and gazed down at the wound. “How’s it looking?”

“I’ve managed to seal it for now,” Nix said. “But it’s still in there.”

“The bullet?”

Nix nodded. “We need to find a doctor.”

“Right.” Tommy glanced back along the road. “Let’s move. We don’t know if they’ve got more friends lurking around.”

Micky helped Nix lift Zero into Anarchy’s Child’s van.

Roxy sidled up to Tommy and gestured to the bound robbers. “That should keep them busy for a while.”

“Good work, Rox.”

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Head into Salt Lake City.”

“Into?” She cocked an eyebrow. “You want to go back into another city after Reno?”

“Zero needs a doctor.”

“And you really think we’ll find one?”

Tommy shrugged. “We need to try. Can’t let that wound go bad.”

“We’ve got antibiotics and pain killers. We can keep the wound clean with vodka and I’m sure we’ve probablyt got some cleaning stuff that’ll do the job.”

“Nix says the bullet’s still in there.”

Roxy glanced at Zero’s van and tugged her lip ring. “Alright. I guess we don’t have a choice.”

“Sorry, Rox. You don’t have to—”

“We stick together, remember?”

“Yeah. I know. We’ll get in, ask around, see what we can find. If it’s no good, we’ll get back on the road. No hanging around.”

“Okay.” She kissed his cheek. “And thanks.”

“For what?”

She gestured to the robber clutching his wounded leg.

Tommy frowned. “Can’t say I’m happy about it.”

“We’re alive. You saved us.” She squeezed his arm. “I won’t forget that.”

Tommy didn’t have a response.”

As the band members piled back into their vans, Tommy stepped over to the lead robber.

The robber stared up at him, wide-eyed, and strained against the guitar leads binding his wrists and ankles.

Tommy reached down and pulled the walkie-talkie from the man’s belt. “You got any more of these?”

“You bastard punks shot up our rides.”

Tommy aimed his shotgun at the robber. “Answer the damn question.”

“No. You’ve got the others.”

Tommy nodded. “We see you again, next time I won’t be so forgiving.”

“Punk bastard.” The robber spat on the ground. “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you all.”

Tommy’s nostrils flared. “That right, huh?”

He pointed the shotgun barrel at the robber and squeezed the trigger.

Blood and brain sprayed the asphalt.

Tommy stared into the gaping hole that was once the top of the man’s head.

A high noise rang in his ears.

What the hell had he done?