The party was a success in more ways than one, but it was in full swing when the crew arrived, slightly late but just late enough to be fashionably late. It turned out that the five of them were quite a sight, especially the ladies, voted unanimously by the men, including the married ones as the belles of the ball. The two men were dressed in near identical but well-fitting suits with Cameron was obviously escorting Jaira, and as far as he was concerned, no other woman in the room was more beautiful in the midnight black dress that sported a deep plunging V neck and back with shirred shoulders.

Where Cameron was preoccupied with Jaira, Robert was finding it very difficult to keep his eyes of his date. Anastasia had found a deep burgundy red halter dress with an equally plunging neckline and thigh length splits that just oozed with sex appeal. She smiled and Robert blinked, as he realized that he was staring in to the chasm of her cleavage and that she knew full well that he was staring in to the chasm. She laughed and twirled in front of him before allowing him to take her arm, “Maybe later,” she teased and laughed again as he blushed.

Natalie arrived solo but it was clear from that Peter would ensure that she had an excellent evening as he practically swept her off her feet. Her dress was a ravishing dramatic V-neck halter that gathered midriff with a bias-cut hemline that revealed the jaw dropping physique normally hidden beneath combat fatigues and body armor, “Sure it’s a little bit... revealing but how often does any girl get to dress like this?” she said when Jaira had commented on her choice.

They hit the dance floor early, and often throughout the night, the music loud and boisterous a mix of styles and genres catering to everyone’s taste. As the night wore on, the ladies shed their high heeled shoes as they swayed to the rhythm. Cameron saw his crew relaxed and having fun as they laughed, joked and danced the night away but he was amongst the first to leave, not needing much persuasion when Jaira had made it clear she wanted a more private party.

The door slammed behind them as he pulled her close and kissed her hungrily. She returned the kiss with as much hunger and passion. He reached behind for the zip to undo the dress when she slapped his hands away, and repeated it every time he reached to undress her. Her dress, the smooth softness of her skin and just, her had him completely fired up. She pushed him back on to the bed as she slowly, began to sway, dancing to that music that women have danced to since the dawn of time. The dress fell to the floor, leaving her standing there in a lingerie ensemble that made his heart race. The night wore on, turning to early morning and Jaira proved again and again that Cameron’s heart could take a lot, using her hands, mouth, and body to arouse and delight until they found release together.

The next day dawned bright and he slipped out of bed, and found his clothes among the heap on the floor, Jaira rolled over with a muttering that sounded suspiciously like “nimble-wimble,” and went back to sleep. Cameron was in the midst of breakfast, when Peter sat down opposite him, “Hell of a dance last night,” said Peter, “But then again, that was one hell of a dress.”

Cameron sipped his coffee, “Whose?” he deadpanned.

“You would say Jairas'.... I would say Natalie’s'” Both of them shared a chuckle as their conversation steered towards the more serious, detailing their departure plans for the early afternoon and he hesitated for a moment, taking a sip of coffee, “Listen, we've left a fair amount of stuff in the warehouse you assigned us. If you need to use anything, use it and we'll worry about repayment later.”

“That is a very generous offer... almost too generous,” said a surprised Peter, “Why?”

“I'm not going to bullshit you. Redding is the first community we've come across since ours in Portland fell,” Peter nodded. Nastia had told him the entire sordid tale, “From what I've seen, Redding is the best hope for at least, Northern California, and the world would be a worse place without it.”

A few hours on, and the Fortress was waiting by the gate, ready as they took turns, saying farewells. Cameron clasped Peter's hand, “Be safe out there, all of you.”

“We've got your radio frequency and we'll keep in touch,” said Cameron as he turned his attention to their driver, “Robert! Move us out!” The gates swung back and the Fortress surged forward, Robert sounding a blast from the horn as they pulled through the gates and back in the wilds of America, “Head east: Destination Millville,” ordered Cameron.

A few hours out of Redding, Robert caught a glance in the rear view mirror of a single motorbike coming up fast behind them. Robert called Cameron up who took one look at the vehicle, “Contact!” A string of bullets whipped past the Fortress and Robert reacted smoothly, slamming the level that dropped the steel plate shutters over the exposed glass, leaving only a narrow two by four inch view slit. Robert didn't take his eyes off the road, “How the hell did you know?”

“What? You didn't recognize the damned emblem on his helmet and the motorbike? It’s the same fuckers that hit us in Portland, and at Parks base!”

Robert didn't reply as he spun the wheel over, causing the Fortress to sway, and like a giant hammer it struck their attacker off his two wheeled machine and in to the asphalt before Robert brought them to a halt. A string of gunfire erupted from their right and Natalie responded with the grenade launcher, sending high explosive, fragmentation and incendiary rounds directly in to the heart of the ambush line and as the right side guns sang a chorus of death. The ambush was over as quickly as it had started, and they left the scene without looking back. Driving past the wreckage of the pair of light vehicles, Robert saw for the first time the emblem that Cameron had referred to: A single white hand with a red star located in the palm, “Least now I know who to shoot,” he muttered darkly. Their direction of travel had no major highways and many of the roads they used would have been easy enough to navigate if it were not for several roadblocks and desecrated checkpoints that hampered their progress. It was the following day when they came across a sight that none of them had ever seen on the outskirts of Palo Cedro. The deep booming signified shotguns inter spaced with the crack of handgun fire as a group of survivors fought off the dead that had them outnumbered almost three to one. It looked like they had stopped to raid a small store for supplies and had been caught flatfooted and cut off from their vehicles.

Robert drove right between the trapped survivors and the dead, and the survivors stopped and stared as nearly fifty feet of armor and firepower pulled alongside them. The guns opened up, and those outside dropped to the ground as the Fortress annihilated the undead in a single concentrated volley of fire. Cameron yanked open the side door and leapt down to meet the survivors, “Hello!” it was a good bet that if you were talking, you weren't one of the undead. His fear for his safety was minimal as he still had the guns of the Fortress trained.

“Who are you and what do you want from us?” The voice came from the group that had taken cover behind whatever they could find it and had their motley assortment of firearms trained as well.

“Travelers and traders who move between communities, we've just come from Redding.” Cameron figured that if this group had been on the radio, then they may have heard of Redding.

A middle-aged man stood up from behind the barrels he'd been using for cover, “Heard of Redding. Never been there,” he eyed the fortress and then Cameron suspiciously, “You could be bandits, so how do I know I can trust you?”

Cameron actually chuckled, “Peter's still in charge at Redding,” he said, letting the assault rifle stay slung across his back, “And If I was a bandit, don't you think you'd be dead by now?”

The man lowered his rifle, “Good point.” With things fairly smoothed out, the man introduced himself as Roy and then the rest of his group, all of whom were family, immediate and extended. Cameron took a moment to relay a few orders to his comrades. Jaira came out bearing food and water as Cameron studied the group while they devoured the food like they had not eaten in days. Roy explained that they were survivors, what was left of their home in Millville, “If you'll want more details, you're going to have to talk to James, our leader.” Roy was guarded and understandably so.

Cameron was in agreement with that idea and they followed them to the far edge of town where they pulled in to a parking lot of what was once a large store of some kind, perhaps a K-Mart. In the middle of the empty parking lot, six vehicles were parked together to create a solid defense and firing line that covered the entry and exits of the parking lot. They pulled to a stop some distance from the rest of the refugee convoy and came to a stop. Cameron took only his body armor and the quartet of Beretta pistols, preferring to let the heavy artillery cover him, as well as Natalie with her .50 Caliber Barrett.

Roy, the old man who was in charge of the group they had rescued made the introductions between James and Cameron, and it became clear that James was not about to trust Cameron or his intentions just out of hand. But the feeling was mutual as Cameron studied the way the women and children were treated, noting that they were all dressed in comfortable and practical street clothes with the children appearing to be well fed, even as they worked together on the chores. Jaira provided a stream of commentary, as well as a mock scolding to Cameron through his earpiece when he seemed to be checking out the local ladies.

As their host sat down by a fire they had built, James offered a cup of coffee to his guest who took a tentative sip. It was hot, black and incredibly potent. Cameron nodded, “That's good coffee,” that brought laughter from James and an equally old woman who turned out to be James's wife as she handed a second cup to her husband. It took almost thirty minutes of unrelated small talk before James decided he could trust Cameron with the truth.

“Those of us that survived the beginning, rallied together in the only solid building in our small town: The new high school. It was new, with heavy walls and fences, meaning that it was better than almost any other building available,” he paused to take a sip of his coffee, “Everything was going well as we killed the undead as they came at us and we had survivors trickling in for the first couple of weeks, singles, pairs and sometimes whole families. And then we did what we had to do ... start a garden to grow food, got the plumbing in the school working, and raided whatever stores we could for supplies and things. Then about a week ago, a group of men on motorbikes came up to our gates and demanded a “tithe” for “protection” against the dead.”

He shook his head, “We told them to bugger off. Couple of days later, they attacked and blew our walls apart with explosives. We couldn’t match them in firepower so they overran us quickly.” he spat in to the small cooking fire in disgust, “They swarmed in to the school, started killing every man and child they encountered, but taking the woman prisoner.” he stopped for a second, but the pain and hatred was strong enough for Cameron to almost taste it, “Maybe they made too much noise, or it was the smell of fresh blood, but the dead showed up and started ripping them apart. About a third of us made it out. The rest....” they were either dead, prisoners or worse.

James drained the last of his coffee, “We sent scouts back the next day and found that they'd missed a few of our people who'd barricaded themselves in classrooms to escape both the bandits and the dead. We figure that the dead must have followed the bandits when they retreated so we doubled back and picked up most of our belongings, and harvested whatever crops we could… most of the harvest is useless though… it wasn’t ripe and will never germinate.” He coughed, “We buried our dead, and as a group voted and decided to head out, find somewhere else to live. I think you can figure out the rest.”

Cameron nodded, “You're heading in the right direction. Redding is about two days out. Just follow the road and you'll come to it. We'll radio Redding so that they can expect your arrival. The roads are fairly clear – we broke an ambush about a day’s travel back,” he paused, as he made the call on his radio. The Fortress relocated, coming closer to the encampment before the others joined Cameron and introductions were made.

Robert and James sat down with a road map to detail the fastest route to Redding. Considering the situation, Cameron went looking for and found Roy sitting on the tailgate of a pickup truck, counting ammunition and distributing them to his comrades. Fourteen people, eight guns between them and Cameron retreated to the Fortress, searching for and finding the medium sized suitcase they had packed.

He dropped it on to the tailgate next to Roy, “What's that?”

He didn’t answer, just threw back the lid, the sight bringing “oohs” and “aahs” from the assembled crowd. The suitcase held ten M16A4 Assault Rifles and almost a thousand rounds of ammunition in thirty round clips, “If the raiders bother you again, this should help you give them a swift kick in the teeth.” He said by way of explanation, waving off the thanks being heaped upon him, “Get to Redding and you can thank me then.” Almost as an afterthought, Cameron asked some discreet questions about the raiders; only to have it confirmed that they bore the same white hand and red star emblem.

That night, there was a feast of sorts as the women of the convoy took a brace of rabbits from the Fortress's freezer and worked some magic with. Even as they ate and celebrated, the survivors kept sentries posted and Cameron felt confident that these people would survive. The night grew late as they finished their meal and Cameron's crew returned to the Fortress to keep watch. The morning dawned clear and bright and by mid-morning, the survivors were packed and ready. Both groups waved good bye and Cameron wished them luck as they parted ways.