The warriors moved silently toward the base, crawling swiftly on all fours to avoid being seen. When they reached the outer wall, two men turned their backs to the wall and interlaced their fingers in front of them. The warriors approaching behind the two stepped into their hands and climbed up the human ladder to scale the wall. The two men lifted with their hands to propel their comrades up and over the wall. When everyone was over, those atop the wall reached down and pulled the men up.

Jence was surprised his entire force had managed to circumvent the wall without an alarm sounding. Giving orders with hand gestures, Jence split his force into multiple teams, tasking them with specific targets within the base.

The warriors dispersed, taking control of the guard towers first. Three of the five were empty and easily captured. The remaining two were quickly overpowered as the guards hadn't been expecting an attack and were taken down before they could warn anyone of the intruders in their midst.

Jence led a purge through the buildings under the wings of the cargo plane centered in the outpost. Because the guards in the tower were supposed to be on watch, those elsewhere in the base were not at full readiness; Jence and his forces dispatched them without any sound.

The entire attack took less than ten minutes, but when it was over, the warriors were in complete control of the encampment. Not a single warrior had fallen, having eliminated the murderous inhabitants without them ever knowing the warriors were there until it was too late. Once certain every foe had been disposed of, Jence had his people regroup near the cargo plane for further instructions.  He blew his horn twice to call in Tyros and the younger warriors.

"The base is ours," Jence announced when everyone he'd brought with him was assembled. "I wish there was time to rest, but we don't know how long we have before a surface tribe takes notice of us. They frequently raid each other, so I doubt we'll have very long. We need to make our stay here a brief as possible. I want guards in every tower, watching for any incoming threats."

Tyros tapped a few of the younger fighters under his command on the shoulders and dispatched them to the towers.

"Our work here will be in stages," Jence continued. "First, gather any food, medical supplies, weapons, and armor we may have a use for and take it back to the stronghold. Second, remove anything else we might need that isn't nailed down. If there's still time afterwards, we'll come back for what is nailed down."

A slight snicker rippled through the crowd.

"Let's get started," Jence instructed.

Two hours passed as the warriors collected everything of use, carrying away considerable amounts of plunder to the stronghold and returning for more.

"Jence!" Tyros called excitedly as he hurried over with a large box in his arms. The gray plastic container had countless dents and scratches from long years of use, but it was still intact.

"What did you find?" Jence asked his son.

"This," Tyros announced proudly. He set the box down and opened it. Housed within the cushioned interior of black foam was a portable communication unit. Two rows of small dials on the front edge of the square device allowed control of the signal to different frequencies and a switch on the left side activated the holographic projection system built into the shallow depression on the flat top.

"Impressive," Jence marveled. "Does it still work?"

"I haven't tried it yet," Tyros admitted. "Would you like to try first?"

"Yes, I would," Jence accepted instantly. It was certainly a risk to turn the communication device on as its signal could be easily detected by any of the surface groups looking to exterminate the warriors. Jence thought it was a chance worth taking as it might also lead to another group like his, warriors of honor holding their own against the chaos covering the world.

"This is Jence of the Swift Sword tribe, is anyone reading this?" he said into the unit after powering it up and selecting a wide transmission. Since he didn't know how much information the device projected at the receiving end of the transmission, he kept the holographic unit off for the time being. He didn't want his surroundings to give a clue as to where he was broadcasting and let the enemy close in on him and his people.

"This is Stefan of the Outpost," a voice replied. "We haven't heard from anyone in years. How are you transmitting?"

"We found an old unit," Jence said, deliberately leaving out where he'd found it and how he'd acquired it. "We've never heard of your Outpost."

"Where are you transmitting from?" Stefan asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," Jence evaded.

"We're outside London," Stefan answered.

"That explains why we've never met each other," Jence replied. "We're on different continents."

"At least we aren't the only ones who didn't succumb to madness," Stefan said.

"Silver lining, I guess," Jence agreed grudgingly. "But, it means we probably won't be able to help each other much."

"We might," Stefan countered. "We have an aircraft."

"You what?" Jence asked. "There hasn't been anything in the sky for years."

"Our base is pre-war," Stefan replied.

Jence felt as if all the air had been pulled from his lungs. For so many years, his tribe had struggled to get by on whatever they could salvage and cobble together. The thought of a full base with undamaged pre-war tech made him light headed as he considered the fantastic possibilities he could accomplish with such resources.

"My superior just arrived," Stefan said. "I'll let you speak with him."

"Greetings," said a strong voice through the speaker. "My name is Cyrus. To whom do I have the honor of speaking?"

"Jence of the Swift Sword tribe," he answered.

"It's been so long since we've heard from anyone, we were starting to think we might be the only ones left," Cyrus told him.

"Likewise," Jence agreed.

"I'm certain we can be of help to each other," Cyrus offered. "That being said, I think our first meeting should be a cautious one."

"What's wrong?" Jence asked.

"Hopefully nothing," Cyrus replied. "We don't know each other. You might actually be a band of marauders trying to lead us into a trap. The reverse could also be true with us promising help and delivering an invasion force. With the lying and backstabbing present in the world, caution is the best route until certainty can be established."

"Well said," Jence agreed. "We'll both keep our guard up."

A young warrior came sprinting up to join the group gathered around the communication device.

"Movement detected from the ruins," the sandy haired teenager reported.

"I'll be right back," Jence told Cyrus before directing his complete focus toward the youth. "Show me."

Following behind, Jence hurried with a brisk pace. Tension coiled in his stomach, and adrenaline in his veins sent a prickly feeling across his skin like needles. He brushed a hand across his arms in an attempt to remove the uncomfortable sensation, but it did little good.

When they reached the outer wall of barricades, Jence looked through the darkness and tried to find the movements responsible for alerting the guard. Flickers of orange light drifted between the ruins, and Jence recognized it as torches.

"They're in the direction of the tunnel," the guard observed. "Can we make it back?"

"No," Jence denied. "They'd reach the tunnel entrance before we did. Even if we could get there first, we'd only lead them back to the stronghold. We're not ready for a second assault of that magnitude."

"What are we going to do?" the guard asked.

"We'll have to face them here," Jence concluded. "I'll alert the troops."

As Jence departed from the wall, a second scout signaled him of an enemy force approaching from another side. Jence raced over to look and found countless flickering points of orange flames. The warriors were being flanked on two sides either by a single enemy force of great numbers or by more than one attack group. He left immediately.

"Stefan said you had a ship," Jence reminded Cyrus when he returned to the communication device. "We're about to be hit from at least two directions. We could certainly use all the help you can provide."

"We're prepping for liftoff," Cyrus said. "How long can you hold?"

Jence looked at the number of torches closing in on his position. He estimated if one torch could be used to provide lighting for a dozen enemies nearby, the amount of foes approaching numbered at the very least two or three hundred. He dropped his gaze to the communication unit and answered Cyrus' earlier question.

"You had better hurry."