That night, they all crouched around a set of maps that Church spread out on the ground. Everyone had eaten and was full, and the firelight painted them all in soft tones of orange and yellow. The woods around them were pitch black, but there were trip wires everywhere, and noise-maker alarms to signal if the dead were coming.

The maps were marked with pieces of color-coded Post-it notes to indicate where pockets of resistance were or were rumored to be. He asked Dahlia a series of questions about how their Pack might approach each group, and why. The conversation went on deep into the night.

They did not see or hear the figure crouched high in a tree, his body covered with a black canvas tarp. The flickering firelight did not reach far enough to glimmer on the lenses of the high-powered binoculars. Trash watched the camp with cold eyes. Inside his chest was a heart grown colder still.

— 15 —: THE WARRIOR WOMAN

— 15 —

THE WARRIOR WOMAN

Rachael, Jason, and Claudia walked quietly behind the Happy Valley group as they led them toward their home. The man with the knife wound to the thigh was supported by the others, and Rachael stirred around in her emotions for some sympathy. Found a little; not a lot. Maybe once she saw how things were in their town she might carve off a thicker slice of compassion.

Beside her, Jason was visibly tense, prepared for a trap that never sprang, his eyes darting around as they traveled, hand practically glued to his knife hilt.

Rachael wanted to believe that these people were good people. That she and her friends had finally gotten lucky and this wasn’t a trap. She wanted to create a community like the one John and Heather described, one where people could find a permanent home. Where they didn’t have to constantly be on the run and fear for their lives. Where normality could resume.

She missed the mundane activities of her former life. She missed attending classes and going to work. Missed seeing her friends and having dinner with her parents. She knew she was never going to get that life back, but God damn it, she would make sure someone else got to have that life, even if she had to fight every orc on the east coast to do it.

Before long, the woods ended, opening out onto what had once been a beautiful area. It looked almost like a park, with large old-growth trees and hilly, grassy fields spotted with wildflowers. Closer inspection showed that the flowers were interspersed with tall weeds and bramble-bushes that made the going difficult.

“There’s a road up ahead,” John explained. “It leads into the community. You can’t really walk through the field—we let it grow wild to discourage people and keep the monsters away.”