“What they are,” said Church, “are extremely dangerous. They are organized, ruthless, and efficient. The fact that they don’t have working motorcycles anymore does not decrease the threat they pose. If anything, it increases it because it makes them more localized. And it has turned them into scavengers as well as predators. Call it a locust mentality. They have been attacking settlements, camps, and refugee centers. I’ve seen what they leave behind.” He paused and looked into the forest as if he could see the Rovers. “They are the reason I’ve been training the Pack so aggressively. Fighting the dead is bad, but doing so requires a smaller skill set and it is, as you often put it, ‘rinse and repeat.’ The dead don’t learn from experience. The Rovers do. And they are both merciless and unforgiving.”

And Trash is with them . . . ” breathed Dahlia. “Oh, god . . . ”

“You said that he pointed in the direction of this camp?”

She nodded. Tears stung her eyes, but she tried not to let them fall. She didn’t want to cry. Not for Trash. Not if he had joined a group like that. And yet . . . maybe he didn’t know who they were. Or how bad they were. Maybe they tricked him somehow.

“Dahlia,” said Church, and she looked at him. His eyes, even mostly hidden behind the tinted lenses, were intense. “Listen to me,” he said in a voice that was kind but not soft. “I know you love Trash. You’ve never said as much, but trust me when I say that I know the look of heartbreak. You’ve been very brave because you’re the leader of your Pack, but I know that you’re hurting. And I know that you’re holding hope inside. You want Trash and the others to come back to the Pack. To come back to you.”

She brushed at her eyes but did not trust herself to actually reply. He nodded anyway.

“Trash made his choice. He could have stayed with you and with the Pack. He could have joined what we’re building here, but he chose not to do that. If he has thrown in with the Rovers, then you have to accept the possibility that he is lost.”

“No . . . ”

Church took both of her hands in his. The silk gloves he wore were cool and the fingers beneath them as hard as iron. “A war is coming. I’ve been preparing for it since I first learned about the Rovers. I’ve fought a lot of wars in my life. I will fight this one and I intend to win. I am going to tear the Rovers down. I intend to end them. Do you understand what that means? It means I’m going to war under a black flag. With people like them there is no chance of a reconciliation.”

“Doesn’t that make you just as bad as them?”