Tommy squinted against the glare of the late afternoon sun as he guided the van towards the outskirts of Denver.

“We’re not going into the city, are we?” Laila asked.

Tommy shook his head. “Too risky without knowing what we’re rolling into. We’ll skirt around the outer suburbs, try to find somewhere defensible to hole up for the night.”

Micky leaned forward from the backseat. “Are you kidding me? We need a pharmacy. We have to go in and scavenge.”

“Dude’s got a point,” Jimbo said. “Food’s getting real slim too.”

“You want to wander into an unknown city, just us against God knows what’s waiting?” Laila glared back at him. “After what happened in Reno, I’d rather take my chances out here.”

Micky drummed his hands on the back of Tommy’s seat. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m fresh out of methadone. Like as of ten minutes ago, my last dose just ran out.”

“I get it,” Tommy said. “We’ll find you some more as soon as we’re set up somewhere relatively secure.”

“Oh yeah? And how long do you think I have before the cold sweats and vomiting kick in? You know what kind of state I’ll be in if we wait too long.”

“Withdrawal’s a bitch,” Jimbo said. “He needs help, dude.”

Tommy blew out a breath. “I said, I get it, alright? Believe me, helping you is a priority. But think about it—we’re all barely keeping it together after burying Nix. You think any of us can manage another fight right now?”

“We don’t need to fight,” Micky said. We can do it quick.”

“Damn it, Micky. For all our sakes, we need to find somewhere secure first before pushing into Denver proper. Get some rest, some food, get our wits about us. Then we’ll make getting your medicine job one, I swear it.”

“Rest? You think I’ll be able to rest going through the hell of withdrawal? You haven’t seen me really sick, man. It makes zombies look like a bunch of freaking kindergartners.”

“Haven’t I?” Tommy’s nostrils flared. “We’ve been there for you. We both have.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem that way.”

Laila twisted around to face him. “Would you keep it down? You’re going to draw every zombie within a five-mile radius.”

“Oh don’t give me that,” Micky said. “Like you’ve never raised your voice.”

“Hey, that’s enough!” Tommy snapped.

Silence filled the van.

“I get you’re going through it. I do. But we’re all struggling to keep our heads above water here. I spent half this morning digging a grave and saying goodbye to a friend. Then we had to run for our lives, again.”

“Tommy’s right. We’ve been running non-stop since…damn, I don’t know when. I think we all need a chance to process and recharge.”

“Process?” Micky let out a bitter laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Have you taken a good look around lately? This whole world has gone to hell. There’s nothing left to process except doing whatever it takes to keep breathing.”

“That doesn’t give you an excuse to fly off the handle. We’re part of a team here, whether you like it or not.”

Micky huffed. “Real Team of the Year material you lot have turned out to be. Going to abandon your friend to the hell of withdrawals the second things get tough.”

“That is not what’s happening here and you know it.” Tommy spoke through gritted teeth. The beginnings of a pounding tension headache was building between his eyes.

“Well, from where I’m sitting it sure as hell seems that way. Just like with Haven. Led us right into that nightmare because you couldn’t be bothered to listen to reason.”

Jimbo punched the door beside him. “Alright, shut it! Both of you!” He shoved between the seats, yanked the walkie-talkie from the dash and thumbed it on. “Roxy, Zero? You reading me?”

A brief crackle of static answered. “We’re here,” Roxy said. “What’s going on over there?”

“Pull over up ahead wherever’s good, okay? I need to ditch this clown car for a while.”

“Copy that. See you soon.”

Jimbo sat back in his seat and folded his arms. “You need to pull it together, dude.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve got it together.”

“Sure you do.” Jimbo turned his glare on Micky and Laila. “You two better as well.”

The other van pulled over onto the shoulder up ahead. Tommy pulled in behind them. They idled in tense silence as Jimbo slung his pack over his shoulder and exited without another word.

Tommy watched as Jimbo let himself into the Minks’ van.

“You see that?” Micky said once they’d started moving again. “That’s on you, Tommy. “

Before Tommy could argue, Roxy’s voice cut across the radio. “Listen up, dillholes. It’s been a hell of a day for all of us, so why don’t we stop the posturing, eh? Mick’s hurting. I get that. But so are the rest of us. What Tommy’s saying about finding somewhere secure, catching our breath, makes sense to me.”

Tommy keyed the radio. “What’s the plan, Rox?”

“Soon as we’ve got a defensible spot, we’ll go on a supply run, prioritise medications. Sound good?”

A low grumble came from the backseat, but Micky said nothing else.

Tommy cleared his throat. “Sounds like a plan. Thanks Rox.”

“Don’t mention it. Let’s just get somewhere out of the open, then we’ll reassess.”

“Got it.”

Through the windshield, downtown Denver’s skyline receded into the distance, fading into the haze of late afternoon.

Gathering his willpower, Tommy forced himself to stay alert and focused on the road ahead, ignoring his body’s pleas for sleep.

Tommy’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as Micky kept up a steady stream of bitter muttering from the backseat.

“You see any places to hole up around here? Or are we just driving in circles till my brain leaks out my ears?”

“For the last time, keep your voice down,” Laila said over her shoulder. “You want to announce our position to every freak out there?”

“Oh what, like they can’t already hear this bucketful of bolts rumbling down the road?”

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The crackle of the walkie-talkie was almost a relief. “Tommy, you copy?”

“What’s up, Zero?”

“Looks like there’s an industrial area up ahead according to my map, factories, and warehouses right off the interstate. Looked pretty self-contained. Might make for a good place to bunker down for a while if it’s clear. Over.”

“I don’t know,” Tommy said. “Might be a lot of choke points in a place like that. Could get overrun too easily.”

“He’s got a point though,” Laila said. “None of us are exactly firing on all cylinders right now.”

A contemptuous snort came from the backseat. “Understatement of the freaking year.”

“And whose fault is that?” Laila wheeled on Micky.

Zero’s voice cut across them. “Bickering’s how good people end up dead. I’m making an executive decision here.”

“Is that so?”

“You got a better plan, Tommy boy? I’m all ears.”

Tommy opened his mouth, but realised he didn’t have a counteroffer. He was too damn tired to even think straight.

“That’s what I thought,” Zero said. “Tired people get stupid, start making mistakes. Then people get dead.”

As much as Tommy hated to admit it, Zero had a point. He could feel the bone-deep weariness clouding his mind, sapping his energy and focus. “Alright, fine. We’ll check out this industrial place of yours. But if it passes muster, we’re sealing it up tight and catching at least a few hours’ sleep before anything else.”

“Roger that. Just keep an eye out for the turnoff up ahead. Over.”

A few miles later, Tommy spotted the sign for an industrial park tucked in among the suburban sprawl. Windowless grey buildings squatted amid a maze of service roads and criss-crossing rail spurs.

“I guess this is the place,” Tommy said, turning off. “Stay alert. Could be squatters or dead-heads holed up in any of these places.”

He slowed to a crawl as they eased through the industrial park. Most of the buildings were unmarked slabs of concrete or rusting metal siding.

The Minks’ van pulled ahead, taking the lead. Tommy kept a few car lengths back, scanning every shadowed doorway and blind corner as they went.

Brake lights flashed up ahead and the Minks’ van came to a stop in front of a low-slung building bracketed by a pair of rolling steel doors large enough to admit a trailer truck.

Tommy thumbed the radio. “You getting a look?”

“Way ahead of you, Tommy boy.” Zero’s silhouette appeared ahead, rifle in hand as he slipped through the cracked-open personnel door. “Give me a minute to check the place out. If I give the signal, be ready to move. Over.”

Tommy forced his weary eyes to remain vigilant. One advantage of the place—no exterior windows to attract unwanted attention. But also no easy sightlines or avenues of escape if things went sideways.

He started as Micky leaned up between the front seats, one hand rubbing his temples. “Man, I don’t know how much longer I can keep it together. I’m barely hanging on here.”

Tommy fixed him with a sidelong look, taking in Micky’s pale complexion and the sheen of sweat beading across his brow. “We’ll get you sorted, Micky. I promise. But we need to get some rest first.”

“All clear from what I can see,” Zero said through the radio. “This place should do us for some shut-eye at least. Over.”

“You’re sure?”

“Relax. Just a bunch of old office junk and shelving units in here. Over.”

Tommy blew out a long breath. “Thanks, man.”

The shutters rolled up, revealing Zero turning a handle in the dusty gloom. “Bring the van’s in. Over.”

“Got it.”

Tommy rolled the van into the warehouse, Roxy coming in behind.

The warehouse’s interior was gloomy and still, heavy with the scents of dust, machine oil, and stale cigarette smoke. Zero stood just inside, closing the shutters.

Tommy hopped down from the van and stretched his legs. “Good find, man.”

Zero gestured deep into the building. “Let’s get those doors sealed, then we can shove anything we need out of the way and bunk down.”

Tommy and Zero moved through the warehouse into an office area, checking for weak points. Abandoned coffee mugs and half-eaten snacks sat atop cluttered desks. Filing cabinets stood half open.

After making a quick sweep of the perimeter, they set about barring the warehouse’s entrances with anything substantial enough to serve as makeshift barricades. Several heavy metal shelving units came crashing over to block the main bay doors.

Laila stood guard by the personnel door, her face set in grim determination.

Once they’d secured the building, Roxy led the way in distributing sleeping bags and blankets, staking out a rough circle in the centre of the open bay. “May not be the Ritz, but it’ll do for some shuteye at least,” she said, dropping her machete beside her bedroll. Her leather jacket slipped from her shoulders as she flopped down onto her back with an audible groan.

“Damn right,” Zero said, checking the action on his rifle before leaning it against one of the shelving units bracketing their makeshift camp. “I’ll take first watch.”

Micky let out a strangled moan from where he’d collapsed beside his own blankets. He screwed his eyes shut, breath coming in harsh pants. “I swear, if no one helps me soon, I’m not gonna make it.”

A muscle twitched in Zero’s jaw, his eyes narrowing. For a terrifying moment, Tommy thought he might lash out. Then the moment passed and Zero shook his head. “For the last time, get some rest while you can, Mick. No one’s helping your ass if we’re too burnt out to hold a gun straight, got it?” He turned to make eye contact with each of them in turn. “Same goes for the rest of you. We bunk down, catch a few winks.”

Tommy wanted to protest, but his heavy limbs and fuzzy mind wouldn’t cooperate. Sleep…blessed sleep was within reach at last.

“Just a couple hours,” Zero said. “We’ll all cycle through watch, stay vigilant.” He squinted at the grimy face of his wristwatch. “Call it four hours. Eight for the drivers. That’ll give us all a chance to recharge, then we’re right back to it.”

Tommy gave a slow nod. “You got it, man.”

Zero disappeared and returned a few minutes later pulling out a battered armchair and dragging it towards the sealed entrance. “You just concentrate on sleep.”

Tommy didn’t need telling twice. Exhaustion crashed over him in waves as he settled into his blankets beside Laila. Within minutes his eyes drifted shut, no longer able to resist the pull of oblivion.

Tommy jolted awake, his heart pounding. For a moment, his mind couldn’t make sense of the cavernous shadows surrounding him. Then the harsh, ragged pants and muffled cries penetrated the fog.

He squinted into the darkness, making out Zero’s silhouette looming over a writhing form on the floor. Micky, in the throes of withdrawal, trapped in a private hell no one else could fully comprehend.

“Get off him!” Tommy scrambled from his bedroll as broken pleas tore from Micky’s throat. He charged over, bare feet slapping against the cold concrete.

In the gloom, he could just make out Zero straddling Micky’s spasming body, one forearm pinning the back of his friend’s neck to the floor.

“I said, get off him!”

“Can’t let him up yet.” Zero kept Micky restrained as he twisted and thrashed. “He needs to chill out before I can let him go.”

“Micky? Micky, look at me!” Tommy dropped to his knees as he clasped Micky’s sweat-slick hand. The clammy skin burned with fever, tendons standing out in harsh relief as Micky’s fingers involuntarily seized in spasms.

His unfocused eyes bored straight through Tommy, glazed and wild. Micky groaned as he writhed and strained against Zero’s restraint.

“What’s going on over there?” Laila appeared beside them, clutching her rifle.

“It’s started,” Tommy said. “The withdrawal’s kicked in full force.” He dragged his gaze back to Micky—his oldest friend—a man he’d seen through the darkest depths of his own rock-bottom lows more times than he could count.

He reached out to lay a calming hand on Micky’s heaving ribs. “I’ve got this, Zero. I know how to handle him through this, okay? Just…get off him and let me take over.”

Zero gave a brusque nod and rose to his feet, relinquishing his grip on Micky.

Tommy didn’t hesitate. He positioned himself over Micky’s shuddering form, shifting until he could pin his friend’s shoulders against the bare concrete with his full weight.

Micky bucked and twisted, tremors racking his slight frame with enough force that Tommy had to grit his teeth.

“Easy, now. You’re alright, man. You’re not alone, you hear me? I’m right here—I’m right here with you.”

Tommy stroked Micky’s damp hairline in what he hoped was a grounding caress.

Gradually, the wild thrashing subsided. “Th-tommy...” The word was little more than a cracked whisper, almost inaudible.

“Yeah, buddy. I’ve got you. Just try to breathe, okay?” He demonstrated with a few slow, exaggerated inhales and exhales of his own. “Breathe with me, nice and easy.”

For several minutes, the only sounds were Micky’s shallow, gasping breaths.

Tommy kept up the murmured litany, one hand splayed across Micky’s chest while the other cradled his head.

He lost all sense of time, the rest of the world narrowing until it contained just the two of them, locked in this private struggle against the ravages of Micky’s cravings.

It could have been seconds or hours before Micky’s eyes found a semblance of focus. “Wh…what time…?”

Laila crouched down beside them. Tommy shot her a look over his shoulder.

“Zero? What time is it now?”

“Going on midnight.”

Tommy ground his teeth. Part of him ached to make good on his promise to Micky right then and there. He could round up Zero and Roxy and sneak them into the heart of Denver. Fewer prying eyes, maybe less chance of getting pinned down by a horde.

But they were all still beyond tired. They’d all be as good as dead.

“Did you get that, man?” Tommy asked, refocusing on Micky’s ashen face. “It’s midnight. Just need to wait it out until sunup, then I swear to you we’ll try to get what you need.”

A shudder rippled through Micky, a glassy sheen of sweat beading on his pallid skin. “D-d-don’t know if...” His eyes fluttered as a violent tremor seized him. “I don’t know if I can last. “

“Yes. Yes, you can.” Tommy cradled Micky’s face between his palms. “Micky, look at me. You’re gonna make it through this, night. I’m not going anywhere, you hear me? We’re in this together same as always.”

“I’m done, man…”

“I’ve got your back, Micky. No matter how bad it gets, I’ll keep you anchored. Just like you’ve done for me more damn times than I can count. We’re gonna weather this storm. I swear it.”

Fresh shudders wracked Micky’s frame. Tommy held him close and cast a glance at the shadows cloaking the vast warehouse interior, silently willing dawn to hurry.

He met Laila’s eyes and nodded. They would find a way to help their brother survive this, no matter what.