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A Dish Served Hot

By Mantrid Brizon

(04/24/2019)

Creeping through the forest, Sniper holds the walnut stock of his rifle close to his chest. The blued barrel of the old, Remington R700 is faded from the decades of use since it's creation, the stock bearing the scars of many a hunt. The slightly tanned human, all of twenty-three-years-old, has been surviving since he was barely fourteen, when the world's collective governments collapsed in 'The Ending' in the fall of twenty forty-five. For nine and a half years, he's lived in a world without laws, except for those enforced by the tribes with the most power. Thankfully, his tribe has just enough to maintain their own territory.

With each step of his worn boots, he inches closer to the ridge, hoping to find wild game stuck in the devices left out by his companion, Trapper. The leaves crunch softly beneath boot-clad feet, as he works his way through a dense fern. A hand reaches out, gently touching his right shoulder. Looking back at the dark-skinned, twenty-six-year-old human, Trapper brings his finger to his lips, his brow furled in obvious frustration. Sniper knows his failing; he's making too much noise. The animals hear far better than either the humans or the Voeldahn who populate the Earth.

Mouthing a silent apology, Sniper works his way through the fern as silently as he can. Poking through the other end, he holds up a hand, stopping his companion in his tracks. There, with its leg caught in one of Trapper's devices, is a panicking buck. The four-legged beast pulls at the metal jaws that hold tightly to it's probably broken ankle. Bringing his rifle to his shoulder, Sniper looks through the old scope, which he's thoroughly sighted. Like Trapper, who's name came from his tracking and trapping skills, Sniper is an excellent shot; none match his marksmanship in their tribe, even in their dreams.

Sniper's finger caresses the trigger as he holds a breath. He exhales exactly as he pulls the trigger; you never hold the breath through the shot, as the buildup tenses your muscles and can cause you to miss. Bang! A single round drops the flailing buck, severing the spine.

“Damn!" Trapper exclaims. “That was a good one!"

With a little smirk, Sniper slings the rifle over his shoulder and makes his way to the ridge. The two men inch their way down the earthen ledge, heading for the valley below so that they can clean the buck and collect its parts, as well as the trap. Using their knives and an old, folding saw, they collect the buck's antlers, pelt, and remove the unwanted organs, packing the rest into hide satchels and harvesting many pounds of meat. This will feed their tribe well for a day or two. Sniper, never one for small talk, keeps his weapon handy as the two men hike along the trails that lead back to their humble home.

Unnamed and nondescript, their tribe is like many others; they're just a collective of families who want to live their lives in peace and desire to care for and protect one another. On their way back to the tribe, which consists of roughly two dozen families, they suddenly smell smoke. Its pungent odor is like burning rubber and plastic, not merely dried wood. Panic sets in and the men quicken their pace, jogging back to their village. Passing through a small archway of shrubbery, they stop and stand in horror. Several shanty homes have been set ablaze, while tents are cut and town and huts are split or broken into pieces. Before them lay the corpses of a dozen men, all of them able bodied and some of them unfamiliar.

Checking the corpses, they see family and friends. There they lay, beside the bodies of strangers who came to raid them, or some of them at least... But where are the women? Sniper's heart races. He scours the camp for his new bride and teenage sister. The entire time he searches, he scolds himself for his failure. How could they not hear this? Why did they take so long? Sniper and Trapper had hiked many miles to check the traps and hunt for food, but he still cannot wrap his mind around this. Looking over the scene, Trapper calmly examines the bodies of the dead.

“A lot of small entry wounds. I'm seeing mostly twenty-two casings here... And this one looks like he was hit with an axe or something."

“There's more over here, Trapper. Dear God..." Sniper chokes out.

Arms and legs lay strewn about, a result of the assault by machete or sword wielding raiders. He brings a hand to his face, covering his gaping maw. Many of his friends lay slain, obviously taken by surprise by bandits who tried not to use firearms. Considering the short supply of ammunition and properly functioning firearms, it's not a surprise. Since 'The Ending', the most commonly used rounds are .22LR, 9x19mm and .38 Special, if only due to how much was in circulation before the great collapse. Sniper moves from hut to hut, tent to tent, and shack to shack. His wife is nowhere to be found. Racing up to the unmarried and only recently inducted Trapper, he rests a hand on his shoulder.

“I'm not seeing the women and children... I think... I think they were taken."

“Slavers..." Trapper sighs. “It had to be fucking slavers."

The pair stand amidst the chaos for a moment. Sniper's stomach churns and he nearly wretches what little was in his belly. The paralysis of terror fades and he swiftly finds himself overwhelmed by a new emotion. Anger flows through his veins like boiling water, increasing his temperature as if he were standing in one of the burning homes around him. He has a new quest, and one look at Trapper confirms his loyalty. Taking what little was left behind, they abandon the extra deer meat for the crows, taking many days' worth for themselves, as well the little ammunition from the caches that the slavers didn't discover. It's not much, but it's something.

With only two firearms in their possession – Sniper's Remington bolt-action rifle and Trapper's blued Ruger Mk III target pistol – they don a pair of machetes as backup weapons, lashing them to the sides of their hide packs full of raw deer meat. Beginning their trek, they march until dusk, which is right around the corner. Using his exceptional talents, Trapper leads the duo, scouring the land for clues to the whereabouts of the slavers. Unfortunately, without working flashlights and the risk of torches bringing attention in the dark, they're forced to stop during the night.

As they set up camp, Trapper seems quite calm and collected. It's somewhat surprising, but in retrospect, Sniper can understand; Trapper has only lived with them for a few months after being found along the road, surviving entirely on his own. He has no loved ones in the village; he's only lost a hut and their support, but Sniper's lost a love he's had since he was sixteen, and a sister he's cared for since before The Ending. Sitting in the dirt, he struggles to start a fire with a ferro rod, the magma hot sparks small and pathetic compared to what they should be. Trapper notices his shaking hands as he tries again and again.

“Don't worry." Trapper suddenly begins, kneeling beside him.

“What?" Sniper gasps.

Trapper takes the ferro rod and metal plate used to shave it, carefully lighting the tinder bundle with one strike. He leans in to blow the ember into flame.

“Slavers won't rape them. They need them undamaged and virgins intact. I'm pretty sure Sarah didn't have a boyfriend yet." He continues.

“You think they're okay?" Sniper asks, hoping for confirmation.

“I know they are... It's bad policy to trade damaged goods. They'll be fine until the auction."

Trapper and Sniper share a gaze. They both know where the auction is likely to take place. A nomadic village of nefarious characters routinely springs up at a river nearly sixty miles to the west. With a typically dragging pace of three miles an hour, the typical slaver group moves ten miles in a day before they're too lazy to continue; they have roughly six days to catch up to them. Looking back to the ember, Trapper nurses it into a developed flame, placing it carefully inside of the little tipi of wood.

“Then we'd better make damn good time tomorrow." Sniper murmurs.

After taking the time to cook a full dinner, Trapper begins smoking the rest of the meat, hoping to preserve it for as long as possible. Though Sniper struggles, he eventually falls asleep. His dreams are tormented by failure, of the screams of his sister and lover as they're brutalized by the wealthy warlords who bought them. Awakening at the crack of dawn, drenched in sweat, Sniper sits up and rests his head in his hands. Glancing over to Trapper, the dark-skinned human appears to sleep quite peacefully. It's as if they're out on just another extended hunting expedition.

Building another fire, Trapper awakens to the smell of cooking meat. After a simple breakfast, they collect the rest of their food, which they'd hung in a tree some distance away, for their safety. Eager to press on, they pick up on the slaver's trail and begin their march. Though relatively easy to follow at first, they're soon brought to an old road. Both men fear losing the trail on the broken concrete, as this particular road never reaches the river that they believe the slavers will use. There will be a new trail at some point, and so they must be diligent in their search; this might slow their progress.

Making their way along the road, the minutes turn into hours and the sun creeps higher into the sky. They stop to rest when it reaches its zenith. As they sit alongside the road, sipping water and contemplating their course, a familiar sound suddenly catches their attention. In a flash, Sniper shoulders his rifle and takes aim, listening to the shuffling in the nearby bushes. Someone or something seems to be just beyond their view. More shuffling sounds are heard, akin to human or Voeldahn feet, and not necessarily that of an animal. With his rifle raised, Trapper holds a small, Ruger Mk III pistol with a tapered barrel, backing up his partner.

The bushes shiver as if someone has just dropped to the ground to hide. Sniper looks back at Trapper, who nods his head once as a sign of support. Both men cautiously move closer to the dense bushes. Sniper's finger slips behind the trigger guard, caressing the cold steel. He prepares to fire.

“Whoever's in there, come on out! If you don't, I'll start shooting!" Sniper demands.

After a pause, the bushes shiver once more. Out step two figures. Both females, one is roughly the size of an adult woman, but she has the appearance of a younger teenager. She is nearly five-feet and six inches tall. The other is a smaller child, probably barely in the double digits. The girls are both Voeldahn, with animalesque features; the oldest resembles a fox but with noticeable differences. Emerald green eyes stare apprehensively at the human men, her canine face framed with ruby red hair that runs down to her well developed, C-cup breasts. A dirty, undersized tank top shows off her emerging curves.

The fur of her body is rust red, with dirty white fur on her snout, neck, chest and visible on her exposed midriff. Her legs wear only short-cut jean shorts that seem a size too small for her broad hips and plump buttocks. Dark brown, almost black fur covers her body from her midsection and down, over her legs and shrouding her pawlike feet. This same colored fur darkens her pointy, canine ears as well, and streaks her bushy tail. The girl has a very slender figure that's complimented by her bust, buttocks and unusually pretty face; had civilization not come to a temporary end, she'd be guaranteed a career as a model.

The little girl beside her is feline. Big blue eyes, like sapphires, look up at the two, armed humans. Her snow-white fur with black tiger stripes is caked with dirt, giving her a greyish hue. Shoulder length black hair, the color of raven's feathers, is pulled up and into a sloppy, offset ponytail that hangs just behind one of her pointy, cat-like ears. She wears only a long, filthy blue dress, with child-sized capri pants made of spandex, which cover her legs. Neither girl wears shoes. With fearful looks, the children emerge from the bushes and stand before the two human men. The girls both appear to have survived in the woods on their own for some time.

Sniper glances back at Trapper, who shrugs his shoulders and lowers his twenty-two pistol. Turning back to the children, Sniper's stance softens and he lowers the rifle. His finger cycles the safety with an audible click. The fox girl breathes a little sigh of relief, and so as the little girl looks over to her caretaker, she does the same, imitating her actions.

“Who're you two?" Sniper asks.

“I'm Reagan." The fox girl replies. “And this is April." She turns her head toward the white and black striped cat girl.

“I see..." Sniper slings his rifle. “This is Trapper, and I'm Sniper."

“Those are funny names." April remarks.

“They're not our real names. I don't even remember mine, but I'm good a tracking and trapping, so..." Trapper explains.

“And I'm the best shot in our village. I like the nickname better."

“You have a village?!" April asks with wonderment.

“Well... No... We had a village." Sniper sighs.

“Oh..." April hangs her head.

“So did we." Reagan murmurs, turning her green eyes toward the broken concrete beneath her feet.

“I see." Trapper remarks.

Glancing back at his companion, Sniper is surprised to find the older, dark-skinned human eyeballing the young Reagan. Furling his brow, Sniper is quite surprised and disturbed by this. While she looks like a woman, she has an almost innocent cuteness about her; though she probably has the proper functions of a woman, she's still but a child to him. Does Trapper feel otherwise?

“How'd two kids end up way out here?" Sniper asks.

“I'm not a kid! I'm fifteen!" Reagan boasts.

“Apologies." Sniper murmurs.

“Really?! Wow..." Trapper snickers.

“Wow, what?" Reagan looks to him.

“It's just... You could easily pass for twenty. You look so... Grown up." Trapper coolly remarks, his eyes scanning the teenager as he steps closer.

“Really?!" Reagan's eyes light up at the compliment.

“Really. I'm twenty-six, and my friend here is twenty-three." He continues.

“Huh! Well, you don't look a day over eighteen." Reagan coos.

“Oh, you." He smirks. “It's nice to see such a pretty face out here. Not every day you meet someone of your caliber."

Reagan takes a step closer, eyeballing Trapper in kind. Her lips curl into a little smile as she enjoys the attention of the vastly older human. Smiling back, Trapper doesn't make a move, but he doesn't need too. She's already become interested, as noted by her expression. A disturbed Sniper stands to the side and before little April, watching the pair sharing silent gazes.

“And I'm ten!" April boasts, eager to join in.

“That's so old." Sniper says, taking a knee.

“Nuh-uh!" April dramatically shakes her head.

“How'd you two ladies end up out here?" He asks again.

“We had a village too." April answers, stepping closer. “But bad people came..."

“I'm sorry." Sniper apologizes.

April looks toward the man thirteen years her senior and flashes a little smile, subtly nodding her head in response. Perhaps it's his look, or his sincere tone, but she seems grateful for his condolences and attention.

“We escaped, and I've been taking care of her ever since. That was... Hm... Almost a season ago!" Reagan continues.

“That long?! I'm impressed." Trapper says with a little grin. “Most women aren't so capable, especially when they're so cute."

Reagan's eyes lock with Trapper's and she instantly flashes a wide smile, only to shy away.

“What are you guys doing?" April asks.

“We're looking for the bad men that found our village." Sniper replies.

“What?! Why?!" April gasps.

Both females look horrified.

“Because they're bad, and they need to go away." Sniper replies.

“You're going to kill them?" April whimpers.

Sniper silently chuckles. How fast children must grow up in a world such as this. Without saying a word, he nods his head.

“Oh..."

“So... Now what?" Reagan asks.

“Well, I thi-"

“You can come with us if you'd like." Sniper abruptly cuts off, Trapper. “I wouldn't feel right leaving you out here alone. The next people you meet probably won't be as nice as us."

“Exactly." Trapper nods vigorously in agreement.

“True." Reagan smiles. “What do you think, April?"

“YAY!" April gleefully exclaims, her tail dancing with delight.

She suddenly lunges for Sniper, throwing her little arms around his neck as he kneels before her. Startled, it takes him a minute to realize what's happened. He slips his arm behind her back, giving the child a comforting hug. Reagan giggles, watching the pair. It's both startling and amusing at how swiftly children can develop trust in people. Trapper steps closer, and from the corner of his eye, Sniper can see his fingers softly caress Reagan's side.

“We'd better get moving." Sniper says to the group.

Releasing the man, Sniper rises to his feet, glancing down at April, who's barely chest-high to him. He softly pets her little head, stroking her scalp between her ears. Her tail swishes with glee. Reagan takes April's hand and the girls follow behind Trapper, who once again takes the lead. The quartet don't speak much as they walk, marching along the old road in relative silence as they look for any sign that the slavers have left the road and entered the woods. Several hours pass and the sun creeps ever closer toward the western horizon.

“I'm tired." April suddenly whines.

Sniper glances over his shoulder, trudging faithfully behind Trapper. Reagan shushes the little girl, who whimpers as she walks on her bare feet. Her little, black claws click against the broken concrete. A tinge of guilt takes hold of Sniper's heart. Slowing his pace, he shifts his rifle, moving it from his back and around to his chest, the barrel now pointing at the land before his feet. Reaching back, he holds out a hand to April and motions for her to come closer.

“Here... I'll carry you."

April's face lights up, her mouth hanging open and her lips curling into a delighted smile. Reagan appears surprised by this, as does Trapper, who stops in his tracks and looks back. April dashes up to Sniper, who drops to a knee. Reagan passes the two, catching up to Trapper who watches them with a raised brow. April wraps her little arms around Sniper's neck and her legs around his waist. Her dirty fur is coarse against his skin as she holds tight. She smells of soil and fall leaves. Rising to his feet, Sniper gently grips her legs and carries the feline Voeldahn girl on his back as if she were his own daughter.

Reagan looks over at Trapper, a little smirk on her face. She's even more startled that Trapper seems to silently condemn the act. Is kindness somehow offensive to him? Now taking the lead, Sniper walks with April on his back, her little tail swishing delightfully from side to side. In the background, Sniper can hear Reagan and Trapper conversing quietly.

“What's wrong?" She asks.

“Nothing." He murmurs. “I just wouldn't allow myself to get so attached."

“Well, I think it's sweet."

Marching along the old road, a strange sound is heard in the distance. Many ravens caw, while scores more circle overhead. Having carried the girl on his back for over an hour, Sniper very politely asks her to climb down. He squats and slowly lowers her legs, allowing her to stand on her own. Sniper's gaze never shifts from distant birds as he stands tall and pulls his rifle from his chest. He clicks off the safety, and so Trapper follows his lead. Powerwalking toward the birds, the girls lag behind, but only because Sniper suggested it. They stay just within view, but keep a safe distance.

Turning a corner, the two men stop in their tracks. Following their lead, the girls pause, but Reagan is too curious. She inches closer and peeks around the hill that blocks her view. Her emerald eyes grow wide with horror as she looks upon a small cart, once pulled by a now slaughtered mule. Chunks of flesh have been cut from the creature, which has clearly been harvested for meat, while the corpses of two, elderly humans lay nearby. Their belongings are strewn about, littering the landscape.

“AHH!" April screams.

Jumping from the sudden fright, Sniper turns back while Trapper's angry scowl is enough to make her regret her actions. April shies away, turning toward Reagan, who covers her head. Lowering his rifle, Sniper sets it on the ground beside his feet as he reaches out his arms. Slipping them around her little body, he pulls her in and hugs her, comforting April as she softly cries.

“Shh... It's alright." He tries to calm her.

“It's not." She sniffles. “The bad men killed them."

“I did everything I could to keep her from seeing these kinds of thing. I'm sorry." Reagan says to the men.

“Better she learns early and adapts." Trapper callously remarks.

Both Reagan and Sniper glare at the man's coldness. Sniper gives April a little kiss upon her cheek, petting her head until she calms down. Reagan seems touched by the sight, standing behind the girl and also giving her comfort. Trapper, however, looks at them as if they're coddling the girl.

“We should really keep going." Trapper eventually comments.

“We do need to make camp soon... Let's search them first." Sniper remarks.

“Alright!" Trapper chirps.

He eagerly darts away, racing for the bodies that have provided a feast for the ravens. His appearance startles the birds, which fly away in a massive, black swarm. Reagan looks surprised at Sniper as he rises to his feet. With his rifle held by the foregrip in one hand, April hangs from his other arm. Her face rests on his shoulder and her snout beneath his chin as he carries her. Sniper looks at the fox girl.

“I'll bury them afterward. Promise."

“Okay." Reagan murmurs, softly nodding her head.

Keeping her eyes closed tightly, as per Sniper and Reagan's instructions, April doesn't watch as she's carried through the carnage. Sniper holds her as if she were his little sister, while Trapper and Reagan collect what little is left of value, anything unbroken that wasn't already stolen. They find two, smaller pairs of old Voeldahn shoes, crafted especially for the pawlike feet for the majority of that particular race. A smaller pair would allow April to grow into them, while the larger pair Reagan can already comfortably fit. Alongside this find, they claim several useable containers, and a little vial of salt.

“Ready?" Sniper asks Trapper.

“Yeah, let's go."

“No. Ready to bury them?" Sniper clarifies.

“... Excuse me?!" Trapper snickers.

“We can't just leave them out here like this."

“Sure we can! The ravens and the dogs will take care of them soon enough." Trapper retorts.

“That's not right." Sniper says.

“It won't take long." Reagan interjects.

“It'll take long enough. Listen... We're on the trail of the people that did this. What do you think will happen if them, or people like them, show up while we're busy digging holes in the ground? ... We don't even know these people!" Trapper exclaims.

“We didn't know Reagan and April either." Sniper retorts.

“But they're alive, just like I want to be... Besides, the raiders aren't going to stop and wait while we 'do the right thing'. Let's just go."

Listening to Trapper, Reagan suddenly turns toward Sniper, a strange look on her face. It's as if she's had some sort of epiphany.

“Forget it, Sniper. He's right. Come on."

A flabbergasted Sniper chuckles from the shock of her sudden and dramatic shift. With the teenage fox girl backing his companion, he turns his eyes toward April. She shifts in his arms, turning her big blue eyes up to him. As much as he hates to admit it, it is a risk, and where would the girls be when they're digging and moving the corpses? Would they be alone on a road? Reluctantly, Sniper nods his head and the group carries on, leaving the bodies for the birds. No sooner than they reach about one hundred meters from the fallen, Sniper can hear the animals descending, eager to continue their feast.

“At least they died together." Trapper says, as if trying to give condolences.

Walking along the road, the group pause at a familiar sound. In the distance, they can hear the faint call of ducks. Stopping for a moment, they listen to the sounds, hearing a subtle splashing accompanying their quaking. Deviating from their course, Trapper leads the group into the woods, using a small hatchet to blaze a little trail on one side; it's only for them to find their way back to the road. Roughly fifty meters into the forest, they find a clearing, a perfect place to camp for the night. The sounds of the ducks are much louder now.

Walking even deeper, they pass through a series of dense bushes, much like those that April and Reagan used to hide from the men. Just beyond the bushes sits a small but pristine lake. A glorified pond, the water is crystal clear, fresh, and appears waist deep to most adults. Using their cache of containers and the water bottles that they're carrying, the group fills them to the brim. Returning to the clearing, they carefully set down the many containers and begin to set up a campsite. April's little belly growls audibly. Hearing this, Sniper silently chuckles, flashing a little smile to the girl's embarrassment.

“That water looks so good... I haven't washed in so long, I don't even remember what I smell like when I'm clean." Reagan comments.

“Go ahead and take a bath if you want." Sniper remarks.

“Uh, are you sure?" She asks.

“Isn't that a poor use of water?" Trapper retorts.

“Trapper..."

“Yeah?"

“Stop talking. We have plenty, and if she wants to wash, she can wash."

Reagan's face lights up, as does April's. A frustrated Trapper sees her joy as she looks to Sniper. With narrowed eyes, he glares at Sniper before slowly drawing his Ruger pistol. He flips the firearm around, holding it by the barrel and handing it grip-first to the teenager.

“If you're going to go, then take this with you. If anything happens, we'll be right here."

Reagan is floored. Taking the pistol, she looks to him with awe, as if he'd just presented her with a diamond ring. He briefly shows her that the firearm is loaded and ready, quickly explaining how to work the safety, before letting the teenager and her young ward dart off and into the bushes. The two humans can hear the Voeldahn girls splashing as they disrobe and dive in, washing their fur. Sniper feeds the fire and prepares dinner, noticing how Trapper seems to stare with a subdued rage. Why is he so angry with him for being thoughtful to the girls?

After a time, the girls emerge from the bushes, their clothes damp from being washed in the pond. April's white fur is now as white as virgin snow, her black stripes contrasting wonderfully. Reagan's white fur is also brighter, and her rust colored fur is a more vivid red than they'd thought; the color was tinted with the dust of the soil. Her darker fur, however, is exactly the same. Trapper's mouth hangs open as he stares at the form fitting clothes of the fifteen-year-old Reagan, gazing at her feminine orbs. Seeing his gaze, Reagan appears flattered, enjoying his looks.

April rushes toward Sniper, quickly plopping down and sitting beside him, her damp body pressing against his side. Reaching for the fire, Sniper collects some cooking meat on a metal plate and presents it to the girl. Trapper does the same for Reagan, who sits between the men.

“Hungry?" He asks the females.

April's tummy growls once again.

“I'll take that as a yes." Sniper chuckles.

Sharing their food, the group eats quietly around the campfire, listening to the subtle crackle of the burning wood. It's nice to take the time to relax, even in such trying times.

“Mmm! This is good!" April chirps.

“Venison is always good." Trapper remarks, enjoying his food.

“This is nice." Reagan sighs. “It's been a long time since we had a night this good; good food, nice and clean."

“What about the company?" Trapper asks, acting playfully offended.

“That too! The food and being clean come first though." She replies.

“And my nose thanks you for that." Sniper quips.

“We weren't that stinky!" April exclaims.

The group share a laugh and continue their dinner. The more that Sniper entertains the girls with his polite banter, the more Trapper becomes frustrated. His flirtatious back and forth with Reagan kicks into high gear. Soon, there are only two conversations taking place; the thoughtful Sniper speaking occasionally with little April, who rambles on as children do, and the downright lustful comments that both Trapper and Reagan exchange. Though he doesn't voice it, Sniper is quite disturbed by how easily Reagan is manipulated by the older Trapper. With each giggle and subtle touch, the teenager is slowly wrapped around the human's lustful finger.

As the darkness shrouds them, they calm the fire and prepare to sleep. They'd stay awake in shifts, if they hadn't all been awake for roughly the same amount of time. Too tired to keep watch, they sleep around the dying fire, hoping that their cover will be enough to protect them during the night. Tossing and turning, Sniper lay atop his bedroll. Startled awake, his eyes shoot open as he stares at the sky. How late is it? The moon has gone, but the sun isn't rising yet. He sits up, sweat beading on his forehead as he recalls the nightmare that awoke him. After a moment, he hears something else.

“Mmm... Ahh!" Reagan's voice coos.

“Does it still hurt?" Trapper asks.

“N-no."

Looking around, Sniper only sees April sleeping peacefully nearby. From the bushes in the distance, he can hear Reagan and Trapper having sex. She moans softly, growing progressively louder as Trapper begins to grunt and groan. Turning over, Sniper struggles to return to sleep as fast as he can. Covering his ears, he can still hear them faintly, and it only grows louder. He briefly fears that April will awaken to their carnal sounds. Reagan's cries are muffled as the couple kiss, but his grunts continue, until they reach their zenith. The silence is deafening as the pair finish; a disgusted Sniper hugs his rifle to his chest as he lay in the dark.

Trapper doesn't seem much different from the thugs they're chasing. Sniper begins to worry that should he become a problem for Trapper, his companion might react similarly to a raider. He eventually hears Reagan and Trapper returning to camp, where they both swiftly fall asleep. Though it takes him some time, Sniper once again drifts into a slumber. Awakening before the others, he sits up as the sun peeks over the treetops. Looking over the campsite, April lay by herself, curled into a little ball. Reagan and Trapper sleep beside each other, with Trapper spooning the teenage Reagan, a full eleven years younger than him.

Sniper quietly prepares the campfire and begins cooking breakfast, the mouthwatering smell rousing the others. Opening her eyes, Reagan looks back at Trapper, giving him a little kiss. Turning her head and seeing Sniper, however, she suddenly pulls away and sits up. Though he isn't even looking at her, his focus on their food, she acts as though she were caught cheating. Trapper is visibly annoyed as he sits upright beside her. Awakening last, April doesn't even notice a difference in the group dynamic, happily telling Sniper about her pleasant dream and chomping down on the venison steak.

“And when my mom held me, the sun came out and it was so warm and comforting. It was nice!" The little girl chirps.

“That sounds like a nice dream." Sniper replies, giving her seconds.

“Thanks! Did you have any dreams?!" She exuberantly asks.

“Yeah."

“Good ones?" She presses.

“Yeah..." He lies, feigning a smile.

Sitting awkwardly beside her new lover, Reagan can't help but notice the way that Trapper glares at Sniper. It's as if he's jealous of the man simply being around. Meanwhile, Sniper entertains little April and ignores the teenager and his companion altogether. Putting her hair into a ponytail, April seems to struggle with keeping it centered.

“Why do you do that?"

“Do what?" She turns to Sniper.

“Put it all on one side. Why don't you do this instead?"

Carefully taking her hair in his hands, he parts it and forms little pigtails. A grinning April looks over at the slightly tanned human as he grips her hair.

“This might be easier for you. One each, just behind your ears."

“Is that cuter?" She asks.

“I think so."

“Okay!" April chirps.

Reagan can't help but smile at their interaction. The little girl looks up to the human as if he were her older brother, or possibly even a father. How attached she's become in barely a day, and to such a kind and considerate man. Truly, both girls are lucky that they weren't found by the traveling slavers instead. Looking over at Trapper, Reagan is surprised to see that Trapper isn't remotely concerned with little April or her connection to Sniper; he watches the fox girl as if she were the only person there. The lust in his eyes is somehow both flattering yet startling.

After they've eaten and prepared for the day, they strike their camp. Before they begin the march back toward the road, Sniper excuses himself, entering the nearby bushes to relieve himself. A somewhat anxious Reagan quickly does the same. Following him a distance away, she enters the bushes, where she hears Sniper sighing with relief and zipping up his pants. Turning around, he jumps at her presence.

“Reagan! You startled me."

“Sorry."

“Are you alright?"

“I'm fine. I uh... I hope you're not upset." Reagan speaks softly.

“Why would I be?" He raises a brow.

“Because of me and Trapper..." She murmurs.

“Oh, that... You need to be careful." Sniper quietly retorts.

“... What?" Reagan's brow furls.

“I'm not upset and I sure as hell am not jealous; you're a fifteen-year-old kid, and I'm not interested in kids. Trapper isn't like us. He's more like the slavers I'm trying to find, and you need to be careful. You don't really know him, and just because he's fucked you, doesn't mean that you do."

Reagan is flabbergasted; she has no idea how to respond. She feels her face flushing at his words.

“Just be careful around him. If you feel like he's doing something that isn't right, trust your gut and save yourself, before it's too late." He sternly warns her.

“O-okay."

Brushing past the teenager, Sniper returns to the camp where little April and Trapper patiently wait. Once Reagan also returns, the group make their way back, following the blazed trail cut by Trapper's small hatchet. After a short walk, they return to the old road where they powerwalk along the sunbaked concrete. The girl's new shoes thump pleasantly with each step as they follow the two men, who keep their eyes peeled for any sign on the slavers who've taken the women of their village. The fact that they probably won't rape them is of little consolation to Sniper, whose mind races a mile a minute.

They walk non-stop for many hours, sharing banter, until April again grows tired. As with the previous day, Sniper carries her on his back, holding her legs as she wraps her arms around his neck. She watches the road and the faded lines passing them by, her chin resting atop his shoulder. After stopping for a short rest and to drink from their considerable water supply, they continue their journey, casually chatting away. On and on, they march along the lonely road, seeing nothing of value; there isn't a single sign that the slavers have deviated, even to camp. It would be foolish for a group to camp openly on a road, so perhaps they're more numerous than the pair had initially suspected?

As the sun creeps toward the horizon, they're once again forced to find a place to camp. Heading again into the woods and blazing a trail only on one side, to find their way back, they never find a clearing or pond like the previous site. Eventually, they settle on a tiny patch of shaded dirt, barely a dozen feet across. Using the old brush and leaves to start the initial fire, Sniper cooks smaller servings of food than he did the previous night. He and Trapper both know that with the girls in their care, their supplies won't last until the end of their journey, and then there are all of the days after that.

Focusing only on the present, however, they prepare for the night and make camp. After a smaller dinner than what they had the previous night, the group lies down to sleep. This time, however, Sniper volunteers for first watch; they should rest in shifts for their security, but Sniper volunteers for another reason. Awakening to the sounds of the teenage Reagan and the adult Trapper having sex was quite unnerving; when Trapper takes over, he isn't sure he won't wake up Reagan so that he may enjoy her body once again. Sniper would like to be so tired as to sleep through whatever noises they may or may not make.

Sitting up in the dark, he keeps the fire low but alive, making sure his eyes never look directly at it, which would destroy his night vision. With his rifle always at the ready, he hears a noise. Looking over, he watches with great concern as little April mumbles and moans in her sleep. Her expression is quite melancholy, and she whimpers, calling out to someone.

“Mmm. Ma..."

Her soft, somber voice as she dreams tugs at his heartstrings. Leaving the comfort of the tree he sits against, he scoots closer. Setting the rifle down by his side, the muzzle away from his companions, he reaches out a hand and rests it gently on the girl's slender arm.

“Mmm-momma. Come back." April murmurs.

“Shh... It's alright." Sniper whispers.

The girl shifts, scooting over and pressing herself against his leg, all without ever waking up. Her hand feels his arm, and her little, clawed fingers grip him softly.

“I miss you, momma." April whimpers.

Sniper spends the next four hours focusing on comforting little April, instead of watching for hidden threats. He realizes this early, but he doesn't care. If only he could give April the childhood that he had, before The Ending claimed it all. He can still remember the riots and the screaming, as what was once the United States of America, and all developed, first world nations collapsed under their own weight. How quickly he was forced to adapt to this world, which is the only one she's ever known. Yet, somehow, she has an innocence. The human man and the little Voeldahn girl are kindred spirits in that regard.

Looking at his wristwatch, an antique mechanical device that still functions in a world without batteries, the old hands strike two in the morning. Moving away from April as slowly and quietly as he can, he gently pushes Trapper, who's easily roused from his sleep. Switching shifts, Trapper watches over the group and maintains the little fire. He curiously raises a brow as he witnesses Sniper returning to April. Lying his rifle down near her, Sniper lay on his side, draping an arm over the small child and cradling her. April shifts, but her soft murmuring ceases at his touch, and she seems to sleep peacefully from then on.

After a quiet night, Sniper awakens before the others. Once again, Trapper and Reagan lay together, their arms around the other. This time, however, Trapper's hand cups a completely bare breast; Reagan lay half naked. Angered that they couldn't have some decency before succumbing to their exhaustion, he shakes them both awake.

“What the hell, man!" Trapper grumbles.

“Shut up..." Sniper growls under his breath.

An embarrassed Reagan shies away from the infuriated Sniper. She looks for her shirt, her head swiveling around as she scans the ground, an arm barely hiding her bust. Finding it near Sniper, he picks up the tank top and tosses it quite roughly at her.

“If she ever wakes up and catches you two..." Sniper growls, pointing at the sleeping April. “I'll kill the both of you on principal."

“Sorry, dad..." Trapper smirks.

“Don't be sorry; be smart. She's a little kid, you dumbfuck."

Trapper's face burns with rage, but he remains silent. The day once again plays out as the previous, with Sniper and Trapper leading the way. This day, however, the tension between the older trio is far heavier. Even little April notices, asking Reagan multiple times if she's alright. Reagan denies any problems, but the group doesn't share the same banter as the previous day, even though April attempts to jumpstart it on numerous occasions. Stopping around mid-day to rest, April sits with Sniper, who's the only one who consistently speaks to her; Reagan seems miles away, and the little girl never gravitated towards Trapper.

Sitting on his own, Trapper watches as little April leans into Sniper, speaking about her thoughts, her pleasant dreams and what she enjoyed about her village. Sniper treats her in a manner not dissimilar from his own sister, who, while older than April, is still noticeably younger than Sniper. Reagan seems torn between wanting to spend time with April, who has been her only companion for months, and wanting to spend time with Trapper, her newfound lover.

“And I also really liked how my village was on top of a really really biiig hill. One time I had a dream about living on a big hill." April rambles.

“I like hills, too. You can see really far, and the breeze is nice." Sniper remarks.

“Yeah, I like the breeze too. I want my next village to have a big hill."

“Hey, Sniper!" Trapper speaks up.

“Yeah?"

“I'm going to take a walk and see if there's any water nearby. Why don't you come along?"

“Sure..." Sniper nods.

Though eager to join them, Sniper asks April to stay behind. Trapper does the same to Reagan, and while April feels left out, Reagan is certain that the two men need to hash out their differences. She's quick to join April, entertaining her with the simple games they used to play when it was just the two of them. Once again, Trapper leaves Reagan his Ruger pistol before joining Sniper in the woods. Is this for her defense, or a show of good faith to Sniper? The men walk in a tense silence for some time, blazing a little trail so that they can find their way back to the girls.

“So... You two seem to be getting close." Trapper finally speaks.

“April's a sweet kid. I feel bad for her; I want to protect her."

“Why?"

Sniper stops in his tracks and immediately flashes the angriest of glares. Trapper holds up his hands as if surrendering, his little hatchet gripped in the right.

“I mean, forgive me for sounding like an asshole, but she's not your daughter, and she's not your sister, Sarah."

“So what? She's still a kid, and she deserves to be protected from this hellhole." Sniper swiftly retorts.

“I'm just saying, you should be a little wary. I don't trust anybody... Well, except for maybe you."

“Trust? She's a kid! What could she possibly do?" Sniper scoffs.

“She's a person. Furthermore, she's a woman, or at least she will be." Trapper retorts.

“Children are innocent, until someone comes along and corrupts them..." Sniper narrows his eyes, looking over Trapper.

“What're you looking at me like that for?"

“I think you know why..."

“Hey man, Reagan's got a pussy, knows how to use it, and she's old enough to get pregnant. That's all that matters to me."

“You're a fucking pig, and you're going to damage that girl for life." Sniper scowls.

“Hey, she rode me last night, so I think she'd rather be damaged." Trapper smirks.

“Is this a joke to you? Do you even remember why we're out here? You're doing the same shit as the monsters we're trying to stop." Sniper growls.

“You mean the monster's we're trying to murder..."

“It's not the same, Trapper. We didn't draw first blood; this is what they'd call a 'righteous fury'."

“Fury all feels the same to me..." Trapper mutters.

“That's because you're warped... You can't tell the difference between stopping monsters and being one; there's a difference."

“I'm not warped. I'm just realistic." Trapper retorts, his stance becoming more defensive.

“Is that what you call it?" Sniper silently snickers.

“I remember the world before... You say that kids are innocent, but I saw kids do some god-awful things when The Ending occurred, and it got worse the older they were. Remember, I'm three years older than you, so I knew some seniors at the time..."

“That's desperation, and that doesn't have a moral code; I'm not talking about that." Sniper interjects.

“I know what you're talking about, and this wasn't desperation... There was one girl in my town who was a few years younger than me, about Reagan's age; I had the biggest crush on her. After The Ending, people tried to maintain, you know? It eventually fell apart when supplies ran low... This girl once blew three dudes for a can of peas, all in a row, right in front of me. She was on a street corner... In broad daylight. I couldn't believe that shit."

“I'm sorry..." Sniper speaks softly, hanging his head.

“So was I... When it was time for them to pay her, one of them wasn't quite done. They gang-raped her on the street, while other people just... Ignored it. They had their own families, after all, so why risk getting involved? After they were done with her, they gave her two cans, like it was some kind of joke. I thought that was so horrible and I felt so bad for her... Then two days later, she was back out on that corner. I guess she decided that if that's what men wanted, she would give it to them, payment up front, of course. A 'kid' spent the next year making that work, and she wasn't the only person I saw doing stuff like that. A neighbor boy, about April's age, got it in his head that if he wanted food, he could kill the neighbors and steal it, so he tried... When he nearly cut my throat in my sleep, I shot him in the face. We're all pretty awful from the get-go, and not many of us need to be corrupted; we just need to live without fear of punishment." Trapper explains.

“Maybe that's true..." Sniper murmurs.

“It is... This whole goddamned world is a mess, and everyone in it is evil."

“Then why pass it on?"

Trapper pauses, his brow furling. The perplexed man looks toward his friend, who stares him dead in the eyes.

“If we're all evil, then why pass on evil? If we start being good, and teach the next generation to be good too, don't you think they'll pass that on instead?" Sniper poses. “Maybe I should be good to April because if I'm not, someone will be evil, and then that's all she'll know..."

Trapper has no response. Unable to properly answer, he simply turns around and follows his trail back to the road. Returning to the girls, they carry on as if nothing happened. The tension seems to have been released, and they even share a bit of banter throughout the remainder of the day. Once again, they blaze a trail and hike a distance into the woods, where they set up camp. That night plays out nearly identically to the last, with the exception of Sniper's nightmares; they grow worse with each day. Sleeping with little April tucked beneath his arm, he hears his sister being brutalized and witnesses his wife's rape.

Every hour, his resolve grows, and soon Sniper pushes the group harder. When April struggles to keep up, he carries her; he's never anything but kind to the child. On the fifth day of their search, they still haven't found a trail. Both men become worried, not only because they're nearing the river where the slavers are probably headed, but today is the last day of their supplies, which they've stretched to their limit. Unwilling to lie to the girls, Sniper and Trapper head into the woods to search for wild edibles and water, keeping the girls just out of sight and armed with Trapper's pistol.

They search high and low for safe mushrooms, wild onions, lemongrass, dandelion, and anything that they can use to supplement their dwindling food source. Failing to find anything of value, not even a fetid pond to siphon water from, they pause in a small clearing. Trapper leans against a tree, wiping the sweat from his brow with his glistening forearm.

“This is pointless, man." He remarks with a sigh.

“Yeah. You'd think there be more plants in a forest." Sniper chuckles.

“I think we should call it."

“You're right... We should get back to the girls." Sniper agrees.

“No... I mean, we should call it."

Turning slowly around, Sniper's glares at Trapper.

“... What are you saying?" He asks with fiery eyes.

“I'm saying, we're not catching up to the slavers with these girls, and the river is only about ten miles from here... I'm saying, this is a waste of time... I'm saying, we failed..."

“No!" Sniper growls, a fist balled in a rage.

“Look, I don't like to admit shit like this either, but face it... They're gone." Trapper calmly continues.

“And what about Sarah? What about Jenny? Am I supposed to forget my sister and my wife? Am I supposed to just let them be sold by slaver fucks to be raped and tortured?!" Sniper's voice cracks at the mere thought of their torment.

“Dying only to fail anyway doesn't accomplish anything..." Trapper murmurs.

“Better than living with guilt." Sniper retorts.

“We're about to starve out here... We've both been hungry, and so have April and Reagan. We know how horrible a feeling that is, but that won't kill us... Dehydration will, and that river is almost always guarded by some of the worst people. We should cut our loses while we still have the strength." Trapper suggests, slowly stepping closer.

“Okay. Let's say we do. Let's say we never catch up with them and I really did fail. What are we supposed to do then? What am I supposed to do then? How would I even carry on with my life?"

“I think you've already started." Trapper snickers.

“What're you talking about?"

“That girl, April. She's already stuck to you like glue; that's a new sister right there!"

Sniper's eyes bulge, his disgust in Trapper's callous attitude growing exponentially.

“And she's a cute kid; you know in three or five years she's going to be a knockout, just like Reagan. And you'll already know everything about each other! That solves your wife problem!"

Sniper violently shoves Trapper to the ground.

“The fuck, man?!" Trapper exclaims, sitting up in the dirt.

“You're talking shit, aren't you?! Tell me you're just trying some tough love and you aren't seriously saying what I think you're saying?"

“And why not? ... She's a she, and she won't be ten forever." Trapper smirks.

“Unbelievable..."

Sniper runs his fingers through his hair, briefly looking up at the sky. Dropping his hand to his side, he turns his head down and watches Trapper as he pulls himself up from the dirt. Holding up his rifle in his weak hand, he clutches the weapon by the wooden foregrip. He extends his index finger, pointing at Trapper.

“This conversation never happened. We're going to forget all about this..." Sniper sternly explains.

“Be smart... Let's cut our losses." Trapper pleads.

“You heard me... Now let's get back to the girls."

Following Sniper's lead, the duo return to Reagan and April, who were beginning to worry, having heard some shouting in the distance. Again, they hike along the road for many hours, until by some miracle, Trapper finds a trail. It isn't hard to see, as it was created by many feet. Walking at least three abreast, scores of boots trampled through the forest some time earlier. With his heart racing, Sniper nearly bolts along the trail, eager to see his sister and his wife again. It isn't until April calls out to him that he even remembers he has a group with him. He stops, returns to April and the others, and carries the girl as he trots along the trail until his muscles scream in agony.

He ignores the pleading of both Trapper and Reagan to stop for the night; it isn't until April voices her opinion that Sniper even considers it. This does not go unnoticed by Trapper. Setting up a camp away from the trail, which may or may not be well traveled, they eat the last of their food and drink the last of their water before settling down for the night.

“I'll be right back. I've got to piss." Trapper says to the others.

“Sure." Sniper replies.

Rising to his feet, Trapper notes how Sniper seems a mile away. Even April can't bring him back to reality; he responds to the girl barely half of the time. Looking to Reagan, the teenager looks back. His eyes widen and his brow raises, his head subtly cocking as if to ask her why she's still sitting there.

“Oh, uh, me too!" Reagan exclaims, quickly rising to her feet.

Sniper doesn't even say anything. April pokes at the fire with a stick, merely glancing at the older girl. The couple walk a distance into the forest, until they can barely hear the crackling of the fire.

“Okay... I think we're good here." Trapper remarks, speaking in a hushed voice.

“What's wrong?" Reagan asks in a whisper.

“I want you to try and stay up. Can you do that for me?"

“Did you want it again tonight?" She sweetly asks, stroking his chest.

“You little vixen." He grins, giving her a hug.

“Just doing what I can for my man." She coos, petting his back.

“I definitely appreciate that, but I need you up for something else... I asked Sniper to quit and turn back but he doesn't want too." He begins.

“Well, yeah. He has a wife and a sister that are missing. That's what all of this is about, isn't it?"

“If he won't turn back, or he takes off on us... I want you to leave with me."

“What?!" She asks in a surprised whisper. “Why?!"

“Sniper's a good guy, but he won't last long in this world. His kind can't survive without a decent sized group for support."

“What do you mean, 'his kind'?" Reagan cocks her head.

“He's soft, babe. He's not hard enough. He has the skills, yeah, but not the heart for it. He's too nice, too empathetic..."

“Bu he's a good guy!"

“He'll get us killed, babe, and I don't want you to die." Trapper retorts. “One day he's going to fall for that stupid 'woman in trouble' decoy that raiders love so much and get us all killed, because he's a good guy... You don't want to be stuck in a situation like that, trust me. I'm the only one who can keep you alive out here, babe." He softly kisses her cheek. “I'm the only one who's ever going to think about your safety first, not him."

Listening to Trapper speak, Reagan can see some logic in it, but she can't bring herself to do it. Thinking back to Sniper's warning, several days earlier, she hatches a plan, a little test of Trapper's character.

“Alright..." She sighs. “But I'm not leaving without April."

“Right, April... We can bring her. She'll be good leverage if he ever comes after us."

“... What?" She gasps, her mouth agape with shock.

It's all Reagan can do to keep her eyes from bulging out of her head.

“See? You can't even fathom it. You need me to keep you alive, because I can think like these animals without being one; you can't make it without me." He says, suddenly waving his gun around in her peripheral vision. “I'll keep you safe, but I need you to come with me. We'll take April with us and you can care for her... But you need to come with me." He reiterates.

Resting his hands on her biceps, Reagan feels the pistol against her left arm. Her heart races, but not from her infatuation; she's growing fearful of the man. Looking into his eyes, they're icy and cold. There's no warmth in them like when she's looked into Sniper's or April's. A part of him is permanently detached. Turning her head down, she pauses as if to think. Her emerald eyes turn toward his gun. While awaiting her response, his finger slips into the trigger guard. The safety is off. A horrified Reagan now worries that she's seconds away from her own murder. Quickly turning her head up, she smiles wide at Trapper, wraps her arms around him and gives him a passionate kiss.

“Okay, baby." She coos. “Whatever you say; I'm with you."

“Good..."

Returning to the camp, they act as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Reagan never behaves strangely; she doesn't tip off Sniper as to their plan. As always, Sniper takes the first watch, and sits up while the others sleep. Lying down together, Trapper spoons with Reagan, his arm tucked around her slender waist. The couple grip each other's forearms, pinching the other at regular intervals to stay awake throughout the night, only feigning their slumber. April sleeps with her back against one of Sniper's legs as he sits up, watching the forest around them.

Though she often finds comfort in being pressed against the human, April murmurs in her sleep and shifts often. He pets her head softly, trying to calm her. With a jolt, she awakens from a nightmare, her sapphire eyes opening and staring into the darkness. After a moment, she turns her head and rolls her body, looking up at Sniper who looks down, smiling warmly at her. Smiling back, April sits up, turning to face the same direction as Sniper.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?" He asks in a soft voice.

“I had a nightmare."

“About what?"

“... Are you leaving to stop the bad men?" She asks, turning to look him in the eyes.

Sniper pauses. He looks away, ashamed to admit that he's been contemplating leaving them to carry out his mission alone. Unable to speak the words to the frightened little girl, who's looked to him for safety and guidance since they've met, he merely nods his head.

“Please don't go."

“I have to."

“No, you don't. You can stay with me and be safe." She says, clutching to him tightly.

“But don't you want to meet Jenny? I think you'd like her. Don't you want to play with my little sister, Sarah?"

“... Yes." April murmurs. “I just don't want you to leave me."

“I'll be back, April. If I don't stop the bad men, they'll keep hurting people and taking away their villages. They'll kill more mommies and daddies and make people really sad." He explains.

April sniffles, and Sniper is startled by a strange sensation; her tears drip from her chin and onto his arm. With a sharp pain in his heart, Sniper feels his own eyes welling with tears. He quickly wraps his arms around the girl, holding her tightly and comforting her.

“I miss them." April quietly sobs.

“Me too." He murmurs.

“I don't want to miss you. I want you here."

“I'll be back, April. I promise."

“... Okay..." April sniffles.

Pulling away from her, Sniper takes hold of his rifle and stands to his feet. He very carefully opens the bolt, impulsively checking for a live round.

“Sniper?" April begins.

“Yeah?"

“Can you tell me your real name?"

Looking down at April as she sits beside his legs, he hesitates. He takes a knee, looking up at her and staring into her eyes.

“I'll tell you what... When I come back, I'll tell you my name. Okay?" He says with a little smile.

“You promise?" She asks.

“I promise."

“Okay." She says, smiling back.

Patting her on the head, he rises to his feet and quietly leaves the camp in the dead of night, returning to the well-traveled trail where the slavers must've gone. He walks for what seems like an eternity, fighting his exhaustion with pure determination. In the distance, lights flicker and he can hear many voices. Taking his rifle from his back, he squats down and flips off the safety, shouldering the weapon. As he listens carefully, he can hear that the voices are some distance away, though where they are, they speak quite loudly. Realizing that he's nearly there, he creeps closer and closer to the jovial sounds.

Nearing the crest of a hill, Sniper ducks behind some trees and falls down to his belly. Crawling along the ground, he cradles his rifle in his arms in a manner similar to what he's seen former US soldiers perform. Reaching the edge of the hill, but concealed with in the tree line, he looks down at a small, shanty village created by a gang of raiders. There, he sees many women who are lashed together with varying ropes and chains. A dock with a large, oar powered boat sits nearby. A series of stakes, beside the dock, are jammed into the ground have women lashed to them.

Stripped naked, his heart sinks as he witnesses Jenny lashed to a pole, right beside his teenage sister, Sarah. Men fondle his wife's breasts, while one rubs Sarah's flat stomach and makes a crude remark about how many babies she could have before she's “used up". Sniper's blood boils. He wants to storm the camp and free them, but looking at the slavers and the raiders, he's severely outnumbered. The slavers alone, who wear similar black and red clothing, number nearly thirty strong, while the raider's village has at least twenty men, and a handful of women who seem to be of equal standing.

Trapper was right; this situation is hopeless. Men are shoed from the stage by a raider in an old, cheap suit. Sniper cries as the bidding begins. He hangs his head, weeping at the realization; it won't be long before his sister's virginity is violently stolen from her, and his wife is bearing some stranger's children while chained to a post in his filthy hut. What he wouldn't do to spare them the awful fate. Feeling the cold steel of his Remington R700, his tears drip onto the weapon, streaking the blued steel. Sniper suddenly has an epiphany. There's still a way to spare them the torment... Sniffling, he lifts his head.

“I'm so sorry. I did the best I could. I hope you know that, in the end." He whispers to himself.

Lifting the rifle, he takes aim through his old scope, his finger caressing the trigger. Looking through the optic, he can see the horror on Jenny's face as an obese man wins the bid. Before the man can claim her, however, Sniper pulls the trigger. BANG! A .308 Winchester round rips through her skull, shattering her head and startling everyone. The slavers and raiders drop to the ground. Quickly cycling the bolt, Sniper takes aim at Sarah and fires. BANG! Executing his sister, they're now safe from the molestations of the raiders, who are absolutely appalled by the deaths of valuable women.

BANG! BANG! BANG! Sniper executes the remaining women lashed to the poles for good measure; they didn't deserve this either, and he's just spared them decades of suffering. Always carrying a chambered round with a full magazine, Sniper takes aim, firing the final, sixth round. BANG! It rips through the skull of the most important looking raider.

“Oh shit... Mark is dead!" A raider shouts.

“The women were a decoy! It's a double-cross!" Another yells.

Without warning, the raiders draw their weapons and open fire on the slavers. Sniper rolls behind a tree, peeking out with his rifle to watch as the raiders and slavers massacre each other in the middle of town. Slaves are struck by stray bullets as the men and women drop like flies. In only a matter of minutes, nearly fifty corpses lay strewn about the land. Those who aren't dead are injured and likely won't survive. Even the boat wasn't spared; her crew shot to pieces and holes in the wooden hull causing the craft to slowly sink to the bottom. Sniper can't help but chuckle at their fate.

“Serves you fuckers right... I hope you're all burning in hell."

Rising from the ground, Sniper slings his now empty rifle and heads back for the camp, eager to return to April and the others.

“No! I wanna wait for Sniper!" April whimpers.

“He'll catch up." Trapper growls as he throws the flailing girl over his shoulder.

“NO! I WANNA WAIT! HE PROMISED!" April screams.

“It'll be okay, April. He'll find us!" Reagan assures the scared child.

She turns her eyes toward Trapper, her brow softened by her shame. Reagan doesn't enjoy lying to little April, but she's too afraid to defy the older, armed Trapper.

“Let me go! HEELLLLP!" April screams at the top of her little lungs.

“Babe, please put her down." Reagan says, resting a hand on Trapper's arm.

Trapper complies, but draws his pistol. Fearful that he's about to murder the child, she kneels beside April and clutches her tightly, embracing her. She tries to stay in the way, hoping that Trapper won't simply kill them both.

“It'll be okay. Sniper will find us, April. You know he'd never leave you. He loves you." Reagan assures her.

“You promise he'll find us?" April sniffles.

“I promise." Reagan speaks softly, petting the girl's head.

“Well... Okay..." She murmurs.

With her tail hanging limply and her ears turned down, she lowers her head and sulks. Taking Reagan's hand and following Trapper's lead, April's little shoes shuffle in the dirt as she walks on her pawlike feet into the darkness and away from their campsite. As they leave, Trapper sticks something to a broken tree branch, just within view of the dying campfire.

“Almost there." Sniper speaks to himself.

He clutches his side as he feels the pain, jogging back to the campsite as fast as he can. By now, the sun slowly rises, creeping over the horizon. Has he been gone that long? Eventually, Sniper comes upon the campsite, only to drop his rifle in horror when he discovers it utterly abandoned. The campfire is dead, with only smoldering ash left behind. Reaching out a hand, it's only lukewarm. It's been out for hours, and they must've left before that. Looking all over, he hopes that this is some kind of sick joke, played on him by a vengeful Trapper. As he twirls around, before catching a glimpse of something hanging from a tree branch. It's an old piece of yellow notebook paper, often used by Trapper for making patrol maps. He takes the paper and examines it.

“Dear Sniper

Fuck you. Keeping Reagan, cause she's already my bitch. Keeping April too. I promise to take good care of her, especially in a few years.

Trapper."

Beside his sloppily written signature is a poorly drawn smiley face. One eye appears to be winking, as if taunting him. Crumpling the old paper, Sniper is enraged. He throws it to the ground and picks up his unloaded rifle.

“I'm sorry, April. I never should've left, but I'm here now and I'm coming for you... While I'm alive, I won't stop looking. I promise." He speaks to himself.

Slinging his rifle over his back, he races toward the trail and eventually back to the road. How could he leave April behind like that? How did he not see this coming? He batters himself over and over for his many mistakes, all of which he regrets. The one thing he regrets the most, however... Not being as good a tracker as Trapper.