The two men who were not Twitch laughed briefly, then quieted down quickly when they noticed he didn’t join them.  Sucking air through his teeth, he said, “Shut the hell up, Vern.  Or the next time one of them dog-things latches on to you, I’ll just watch it chow down.”

Allistor tried again.  “Listen, guys.  How ‘bout you come down and talk to us?  We found another group nearby already this morning, and they’re willing to meet us for lunch.  My treat.”

All three men were thin, with sunken cheeks that suggested they weren’t eating enough.  Allistor hoped the temptation of food would be enough to lure them down.  Though at this point he was sure he didn’t want them among his people.  He waited while they mumbled amongst themselves.

Then Twitched called down.  “You have that much food?  Then you can spare some!  Leave the food in the truck and get walking!”  He fired a shot in the air for emphasis.

“Trigger-happy psychos,” Helen hissed as she gripped the door hard enough to turn her knuckles white.   “Let’s get out of here before they shoot one of us!”

Allistor had a similar sentiment in his own mind.  But also anger at these idiots who were turning down a better life.  “Look, Twitch.  There are so few of us left.  We need to get stronger to prepare for the aliens, not rob and kill each other!”

“Aliens?  What aliens.  You’re so full of crap, dude.  There’s no such thing as aliens!”  The other two men backed away from Twitch as he was waving his gun around wildly. “Get your ass out of that truck and get off my block!”  This time he fired a round into the street near one of the tires.

Allistor had seen enough. He cast Flame Shot at Twitch, a fireball flying upward to strike the man’s chest.  The moment the spell was away, he gunned the engine and the truck shot forward.  He knew from experience that every foot of distance from the shooters made it less likely they’d hit him, Helen or Fuzzy.  Or a vital part of the truck.

A few bullets plinked off the roof as the engine roared and the truck sped away.  He went straight for a block, then turned sharply down an alley.  Stomping the brake pedal, he brought the truck to a halt out of sight of the men on the roof.  Grabbing his rifle from his ring, he hopped out of the truck and ran back to the corner.

The firing had stopped as soon as the men on the roof lost sight of the truck.  But they were still up there.  Allistor couldn’t see Twitch, but he must have been laying down on the roof, because the other two men were standing with their backs to Allistor and looking down.  One opened a can of beer and poured it on his friend.   Allistor and Helen could hear Twitch screaming.