“Why should we help you?!” The man with the horses demands. “This could be a trap for all we know!” He turns to Hank, pleading. “Please, Hank. You remember the last time we trusted strangers, right? Remember Annie?”

The expression on Hank’s face darkens, and he takes another step forward, his wrench raised, and Dani steps in front of me, ready for a brawl.

“I’m sorry, kids,” Hank growls. “But we can’t just take you at your word.”

The young woman steps towards Hank and rests her hand on his arm. “Grandpa, wait. What if they’re tellin’ the truth? They haven’t even drawn their weapons yet.”

“The young man over there hasn’t even put his gun down, Gwen,” Hank growls. “What if there are more of ‘em hidin’ around here?”

“It’s just us, sir,” I tell him. “I swear it. My companion over there is just suspicious, we’ve been through a lot in the last few days.”

“We’ve all been through the wringer, girl. You ain’t no different,” the man with the horses growls.

I take a deep breath, trying to figure out a way to get them to trust us, and an idea forms in my head. “Here, we’ll disarm, okay? We don’t need our weapons to talk,” I turn to my friends. “Drop your weapons, okay?” I tell them.

“What? But Cass-” Josh tries.

“We have to de-escalate the situation, and Matt won’t disarm unless everyone does,” I reason. “Trust me, we’ll be okay.” I turn back to Hank and the others. “We’re going to drop our weapons, okay? Let’s just talk this out,” I tell them. I don’t reach for my bow or knife for a second, waiting for Hank to back down a moment as he eyes us with skepticism. Slowly, I set my bow and knife down, and Dani, Josh, Sparrow, and Quentin follow my lead, eyeing me anxiously. I step over our weapons towards Hank’s group, slowly, with my hands still in the air. “See? We just want to talk,” I tell them.

Hank eyes Matt, who is glaring at us incredulously. Seeming satisfied with our peaceful approach, Hank gestures for his people to lower their weapons, and he steps forward as well.

“So, you’re really not with the bandits?” Hank asks, his voice wary.

“Yes, we’re really not with them,” I answer, lowering my hands and offering a sincere smile.

Hank sighs, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck, glancing back at his people. “Awfully sorry ‘bout that, then. We’ve been hounded by a group of survivors lookin’ to take our home for their own,” Hank says. He holds out his hand for me to shake. “Findin’ strangers out here is trouble on it’s own, though I suppose we could help each other. That offer o’ yours still stand?”

I smile, nodding, reaching to take his. “Of course-”

BANG!

The sound of a gunshot rings out around us, and Hank and I jump away from one another, looking around wildly, and I see discharge smoke rising from the barrel of Matt’s pistol, aimed at Hank’s group.

“It was a trap!” The man with the horses exclaims, trying to calm them down, and Hank’s group grabs their weapons. I barely have time to notice a small pack of Feral’s running towards Hank’s group from the treeline they came from, and before I’m able to warn them about it, another gunshot rings out, and my entire abdomen erupts in white-hot pain. I stumble back into a car, clutching my stomach as Dani rushes forward to grab me, pulling me to safety behind another car as Hank’s group opens fire on us.

I can’t hear what she’s saying, and I barely register her touch. My body is getting cold much faster than is natural, and when I remove my hand from my stomach, I’m coated in blood, flowing freely from a sizable hole in my shirt.

“Da-Dani,” I grunt out, my arms shaking and my vision blackening.

I just got shot. I just got shot. I’m going to die today, aren’t I? All over a misunderstanding.

My vision goes dark and my body limp, and everything goes cold.