"What's that badge on your belt," the older woman asked, pointing at Kevin's belt with her submachine gun.

"It's mine," Kevin answered. Although it was a strain on his arm to keep the bowstring tight, he held on and maintained the aim of his readied arrow.

"Did you kill the owner of it to make it yours?" a man's voice questioned from behind him, and Kevin assumed it was the man holding the rifle pointed at his back.

"I was issued this badge before the outbreak," Kevin declared. "What about you? Have you killed anyone lately for their stuff?"

It was risky provoking the strangers since they had him outflanked, outnumbered, and outgunned, but Kevin realized he couldn't hold the bow tight forever; the moment he was forced to relax, they could eliminate him without his ability to return fire. He had to move things along quickly to a conclusion.

"Only zombies and the few scavenger teams we've baited," the woman told him.

"You baited the scavengers?" Kevin asked incredulously.

"How else are we supposed to obtain high end supplies?" the woman inquired. "The scavengers took everything the survivors haven't already exhausted. The only other way would be insane, going into the city."

"What about you?" the male voice questioned from over Kevin's shoulder. "What are you doing out here?"

"Besides killing scavengers to save people on the road?" Kevin suggested. "Just call me insane."

"You went into the city?" the woman asked in total shock.

"If we can all put down our weapons, I'll show you what I got, and even share," Kevin offered.

A crunch of gravel reached his ears as the rifleman standing behind Kevin slowly came around to stand beside the woman. When he came into view, it surprised Kevin to see the gunman dressed in all black with a white clerical collar of a priest around his neck.

"Your offer is generous," the priest said. "How do we know it's the truth and not a trap?"

"You don't know," Kevin admitted. "Just as I don't know I can trust either if you."

The priest didn't lower his rifle, but he did adjust his aim slightly so it didn't point directly at Kevin anymore. Kevin reciprocated by easing the tension on his bowstring, but he didn't fully let down his guard until the old woman also lowered her submachine gun.

As the three of them gradually stood down from the potential massacre, Kevin took a steadying breath and tried to ignore the muscles in his arm complaining.

"I suppose an introduction is in order," Kevin suggested. "I'm Kevin Scott, former police officer."

"George Navarro," the priest identified, resting his rifle against his shoulder.

"And, I'm Isabella Kressel," the old woman said happily, casually holding her submachine gun as one might cradle a newborn. "Where do you hail from, and where are you headed?"

"I'm actually from around here," Kevin answered the first question. "As to where I'm going, I hadn't decided. When the whole world has fallen apart, one direction is about as good as another."

"Usually that would be true," George commented, tugged slightly on his priest collar.

"What do you mean?" Kevin prompted.

"We've been encountering zombies more and more the further east we go," Isabella told him. "It's not just the cities; we're finding them everywhere, and in larger numbers. It's getting so you can't spit without hitting one."

"That's why we're heading west," George finished.

"If you're going to travel anywhere, you need to be more careful about avoiding scavengers," Kevin cautioned them. "Not all of them are so easy to trick, and some of them travel in more numerous raiding parties."

"We got the drop on you easily enough," George pointed out. He shifted his rifle slightly, and Kevin didn't like the look in the priest's eyes; there was something wrong with that man, and Kevin knew it.

"And, we got to some of the salvage before you did," Isabella added to the statement of her priestly companion. She reached behind a rock and pulled out the arrows Kevin had used on the last two scavengers. She handed them back to Kevin. "You said something earlier about sharing?"

"Yeah," Kevin confirmed, having nearly forgotten about it after the tense standoff. He led them back to where he'd dropped his bags, showing them the golf clubs, baseball bat, and the pouches of preserved food.

The eyes of the two travelers lit up when they saw the great bounty Kevin possessed. They eagerly looked over the available meal choices, deciding how best to trade.

"Here," Kevin offered, taking two of the food pouches and giving one to each of the travelers. "These are on me."

"Where did you find them?" Isabella asked, clutching the pouch like a drowning man holding a piece of driftwood.

"You said you weren't stupid enough to go into the town," Kevin reminded. "Well, I am."

"Gutsy," George complimented.

George and Isabella took down the packs from their backs and unloaded them on the ground, picking out the few items they owned and would be willing to part with in exchange for what Kevin offered.

The trade was quickly concluded with George and Isabella gaining several food pouches each, and Kevin received two handfuls of spare shotgun shells and a leather bandolier for holding them.

"A pleasure doing business with you," Kevin said as he finished strapping the bandolier diagonally across his chest and filling it with his newly acquired shells.

"Would you like to come with us?" Isabella asked.

"Where?" Kevin questioned back.

"Before it collapsed, the government built a test city," Isabella explained. "It was designed as an experiment to see if an entire town could be rendered self sufficient while holding off the zombies. If successful, the townspeople could live the lives of everyday citizens the way they did before the rise of the undead."

"They'd never have to scavenge, or train their children how to fight off a rotting corpse trying to eat them alive," George added.

"Sounds too good to be true," Kevin said.

"Perhaps," Isabella agreed. "On the other hand, what is there to lose by going for a look?"

Kevin thought about it for half a minute. "Where is this experimental town?"

"It's the city of Walton, a few miles west of here," Isabella answered, pointing to the horizon. "Do you want to join us in looking for it?"

"Why not?" Kevin agreed. With the world falling to ruins, he had very little to lose by chasing a long shot.

"Whatever we are going to do, we should get moving before a scavenger team we didn't invite shows up," George suggested, pulling back the slide on his rifle partway to be certain a round was loaded and ready to fire.

The nagging feeling in the back of his mind came again, and although Kevin couldn't specifically identify what bothered him about the priest, it raised the hairs on his neck and twisted a knot in his stomach. Something was wrong, and every cop instinct he had was screaming at him not to led down his guard around the stranger named George Navarro.

The troop quickly collected their packs, containing everything of physical value they owned. Heading west toward the possible safety in the town of Walton.

***

As the hours passed, George, Isabella, and Kevin made fair progress toward their intended destination. Although the highways were prime hunting grounds for scavengers, the trees and other foliage surrounding the broken and cracked asphalt had grown in so thick over the past ten years, it would be a much longer and harder journey if they went any other way.

One thing Kevin noticed he had in common with George was a heightened sense of alertness. Both men frequently checked over their shoulders to see if they were being followed by scavengers or the undead. Their eyes also maintained a constant watch of their surroundings, anticipating traps and ambushes set along their path.

The trees became more numerous as the landscape gradually shifted to a dense forest. The failing light of late afternoon, combined with the autumn season, lit the forest in magnificent shades of intense orange, fiery red, and bright yellow. If not for the threats of the undead and scavengers, the forest would've been a peaceful and welcoming place.

"How much further?" Kevin asked, studying the setting sun in the west. He really didn't want to be wandering a forest in the dark.

"I don't know specifics," Isabella answered. "I've never been there before."

"You can't say that anymore," George said, nodding to their right.

Nearly hidden among the tree trunks of the forest was a high wall of metal. The gray color made it appear to be an outcropping of native stone, but its upper edge was too straight and level for a natural formation.

As the small party approached the wall, soldiers armed with bows suddenly appeared atop its uppermost edge, bowstrings pulled tight and ready to release a deadly volley. Dressed in the dark greens of military camouflage, the guards' swift and unified response showed their elite level of training and preparedness for answering any challenge to the safety and security of the town under their watch.

"Hold your fire!" Kevin shouted, halting in place and putting his arms out wide to the sides to show he wasn't a threat to the town or anyone in it. Isabella and George mimicked his actions.

Although the bowmen didn't lower their weapons, Kevin took the fact of the three travelers not having been shot already as a good sign.

"What business do you have here?" one of the guards shouted.

"We are travelers looking for a safe haven," Kevin explained.

"Our resources are limited, and our town can only support so many," the guard replied.

"A temporary stay then," Kevin amended. "We have supplies of our own and will not unduly burden your city."

Silence filled the air as the situation was quickly and quietly discussed among the guards and relayed to the leadership of the town for their response.

A motor in the distance engaged before a large metal ramp was swung over to the wall and lowered down by a crane. The guards relaxed the tension on their bowstrings, but their stances told Kevin they were still ready to defend the wall should the newcomers prove a threat. One soldier, distinctive by his wearing a beret instead of a helmet, stepped forward to the top of the ramp.

"You will be escorted by a guard at all times," the soldier commanded in a powerful voice. "Any attempt to evade your escort will be grounds for immediate banishment. Banishment will also occur if you in any way endanger or negatively disrupt the lives of our citizens. You will be led to a meeting with our Governor, after which you shall be allowed to stay for either the duration of your supplies or a time specified by the Governor. Is this acceptable and agreed upon by all?"

"It is," the three of them said together.

The soldier waved them up the ramp, and they quickly hurried up in the inclined platform to the top of the wall. The moment they stepped down from the ramp and onto the wall, the crane lifted the ramp up and swung it away.

Kevin watched the crane in operation before turning his eyes to the wall upon which he was standing. The crane acted as a vital part of the city's defense for the entire wall, as far as Kevin could see in any direction, was completely solid. Fortifications had always suffered from a singular flaw in they had to remain accessible for those coming and going, and any wall capable of letting the allies in could be breached at the same point by enemies. By not having a gate, those inside the city controlled who came and went, leaving the fortifications not a single weak point to exploit. Kevin considered it the only reason the city had endured for so long.

The soldier who had given them their instructions took a step toward them and pointed down a series of metal steps. "Follow me to the Governor, and welcome to the city of Walton."