The militia moved away from the camera radius, then appeared in another section that showed an area nearer the warehouse. They unpacked bottles from the packs on their hoppers, and Bo knew without even seeing them closely that they would be Molotov cocktails. Within moments they would have the warehouse blazing, which most likely wouldn't harm any of the supplies in the concrete bunker beneath... however, the smoke from the fire would fill the hidden supply room and become dangerous for anyone within.

"I have to go out there," Bo said, making a dash for the door. A man stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"You can't leave," the woman from before said. "We keep quiet and inside our houses, and we run less of a chance of them attacking us."

"My companions are trapped in the warehouse," Bo said. "I can't leave them to die."

The woman sighed and bit her lip while she stared at the screen and the militia men readying the weapons they would set the warehouse alight with. "All right, let her out," she finally said. "They're Forlorn, and we need to keep them on our side if we're ever to be free of these raids."

The man stepped out of the way, and Bo ran through the house and out into the whipping dust. She wrapped her bandanna into place as she raced toward the warehouse, hoping that she wouldn't be too late.

Without waiting for a better plan, Bo drew the pistols at her hip and shot as soon as the men came into view. She was aiming for the bottles or the men's hands, hoping to stop the flames before they came in contact with the rag fuses.

She only hit a bottle and one hand before the men spun on her with their own guns drawn. She dove behind a building for cover while she tried to figure out some way of distracting the men for long enough to let Khan and Helga escape from the bunker.

Bo was just peeking around the corner to see the men running toward her hiding spot, when gunshots came from the direction of the warehouse. The men spun to see Khan and Helga, powerful machine guns in their hands. They must have grabbed some of the guns in the storage, and now were raining down bullets on the men who went scrambling for cover. It wasn't the Forlorn's aim to kill anyone, just make a big enough threat to send the militia running.

Khan and Helga walked toward Bo, keeping their guns aimed at the building where the men had disappeared behind.

"Where are the hoppers?" Helga asked.

"In a house by where we parked them," Bo said.

"Better make sure these idiots know we're Forlorn," Khan said. "We don't want them blaming the townspeople."

Khan cleared his throat. "Ready to have your butts handed to your yet again, morons? Haven't we done that enough already? Do we need to tattoo you all with the Forlorn's sign, just to really make sure you know who's in charge around here?"

A moment of silence followed, and then gunshots rained down in return to Khan's words. Khan cursed and ducked back out of sight. "Well, I think we riled them up pretty good," he said.

"Yeah, genius," Helga growled. "Now they're angry and ready to fight. We should have just left when we could."

Though Khan and Helga had the superior firepower, the militia men outnumbered them and were tenacious in their attempts to keep the three Forlorn pinned behind the wall they hid behind. Any time they tried to lay down cover fire and move, the militia men would find some new angle to shoot from that made it impossible to move more than a few feet. Bo hissed in frustration, knowing that their ammunition couldn't last forever. Unfortunately, the militia men had just filled their pouches with ammunition from the warehouse, and would probably last longer in that sense. The longer the Forlorn stayed in position, the easier it would be for the militia to finally overpower them even with their weaker guns.

"We really need to get out of here," Helga said. "It's been almost ten minutes already."

Bo ran the back of her sleeve over her forehead to mop up the beads of sweat that ran down into her eyes. "I think we'll just have to run and hope that our injuries aren't life threatening."

Khan twisted up his lips, but Bo could see that he agreed with her. Chances were that at least one, but probably all of them, would be tagged on the run. But if it was just an arm or side-shot, they could probably last for long enough to get somewhere safe to bandage themselves. At any rate, it was a better chance than sitting still.

"All right, I'll send out some cover fire, and you two start to run. I'll follow," Khan said, cracking his neck and hoisting his machine gun. His eyes sparked with intensity, and for one of the first times, Bo saw why he was second in command of the Forlorn. His determination was almost tangible, and Bo had no difficulties imagining him ordering troops in a fight.

Bo tensed, ready to run, as Khan's finger pressed down on the trigger....

But before he could do anything, the sound of gunfire ripped through the air from a totally new direction. Bullets slammed into the wall just inches to Bo's left, and she spun to see a host of men on hoppers approaching swiftly from behind the three.

"They called in backup!" she shouted, right before more bullets rained down on them.

Khan wasted no time, and jumped to his feet to smash a window in the building with his gun. The glass cascaded down as he hoisted Helga up and through the window into the interior, and then helped Bo. Bo spun to offer her hand to yank him up.

They all spilled into an empty room, this one not reinforced with metal plating. The bullets from both the militia they'd surprised and the ones that had surprised them bit into the brick of the building. It wouldn't be long before they could simply shoot through the walls and kill the Forlorn in the crossfire.

"Crap, crap, crap!" Bo said, swiping a hand through her hair and spinning to try and find anyway they could exit the building without being immediately shot. "What do we do?"

"We'll just have to take as many as we can down with us," Khan said, and with his words came the weight of their situation. There was no use running. They were cornered, and death was near. He was right. They could only hope to cut the ranks of the militia, even by a few men.