“You tell me.  Is there a place large enough for us to gather that also has a grill or a working kitchen that we can use?  Someplace nearby, to reduce the risk of running into monsters?”

Dean replied “There’s a rib joint not far from where we’re staying.  It has two big wood-burning grills out back.  Good place to cook snake meat.  Lots of tables and chairs.”

“Perfect!  We’ll go see the other group and bring them there if they seem alright.  Let’s say… 1:00?” He waited for Dean to nod.  The others from his group, two more men and a woman, appeared from their various hiding places.  Everyone was introduced, and Dean gave them a location for the meetup.   Annie gave Fuzzy’s ears a final scratch, and the two groups parted ways.

Back in the truck, Helen navigated while Allistor drove them in the direction of the smoke they’d seen.  It didn’t take long, even at slow speeds, to reach the warehouses.  A quick search as they drove down one side street revealed one structure with three trucks parked near the door, and the broken windows boarded up from the inside.   Once again, Allistor gave a quick double-honk of the horn, and they waited for some kind of response.

Two full minutes passed before a voice called down from above.  “Who are you? What do you want?”

Allistor stuck his head out the window and looked up, finding three men on the roof with handguns pointed at him.  He called back, “Name’s Allistor.  I’m a survivor like you.   I’m looking for others to join with us.  We have a safe place nearby, and plenty of food.”

“We’re safe enough here.  But I like your truck.  Why don’t you just get out and walk away.  We promise not to shoot if you do as you’re told.”  The same voice echoed off the surrounding buildings.  It was coming from the man on the far left.  A small, thin man with spiked hair bleached white as snow.  He shifted from one foot to the other constantly as Allistor observed him.  Almost as if he needed to take a leak.

“I don’t think so… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Everybody calls me Twitch.  You can call me Mister Twitch.  This is my block, and visitors passing through have to pay a toll.  Now, get out of the truck and walk away.  You can take your dog with you.” He motioned toward Fuzzy, who was curled up in the back seat.

“Listen, Twitch… there’s no need to be hostile.  I’m trying to be your friend, here.  You don’t need this truck, you’ve got three right there.  And there are hundreds more around to choose from.  Besides, I like this truck.   How ‘bout we all relax and talk a bit.  We can go together and get you a nice Escalade or something later.”

One of the other men laughed out loud.  “Twitch in an Escalade? That’s like havin’ a solid gold litterbox.  Looks purty and has nothin’ but shit inside.”