he cobwebs, then climbed back to his feet as a critical malfunction error flashed on his visor display, coming from his railgun. The explosion had damaged it, and rendered it inoperable. The titanium casing had withstood the explosion, mainly because Jason's body had shielded most of the weapon from the blast. The blast did burn through the shoulder strap though, so he held the weapon like a club as he singled out the bastard who had had the nerve to hit him with a rocket at such close range. He wasn't the only one to take some of that, he saw. The second truck, a big Ford F-250, had some fire licking at its back left tire, and it was a bit scorched. The third truck, a Dodge Ram, had its driver's side headlight blown out and some shrapnel holes in the hood and left fender, as well as a shattered windshield that, to Jason's disgust, was smeared and spattered with blood. The explosion had killed the driver of the truck. There were also three men laying on the ground not far from the explosion, none of them moving... and since one of them was on fire, Jason assumed they were probably dead. That idiot had panicked and fired the rocket while Jason was in the middle of his own men, and killed them.

Jason roared forward as the man stared in stunned disbelief, then hit him dead in the face with the stock of his railgun. The blow sent teeth and blood flying, and the man almost did a backflip from the force of the blow before flopping to the ground on his stomach, where he did not move. He moved to club another man who ran out from the truck's passenger side, who was covered with the blood of the driver, but he spun and dropped as Jason heard the chatter of gunfire behind him. He glanced back to see Regina and the others back at the roadblock, running over the bridge towards him while firing at the people around the trucks. He saw a few still forms at the treeline, telling him that they'd met the enemy and had overwhelmed them.

The two trucks that still had drivers quickly swerved off the road and moved to turn around, as the men on foot turned and started to run away. Those men started dropping to the ground as they were hit from behind by the advancing defenders, but it wasn't necessary now. He jacked up the volume of his armor so it would make his voice boom, and he shouted out.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND SURRENDER!" his voice thundered across the clearing, but the men did not obey. They continued to flee, some of them turning to fire back at the advancing defenders as the two remaining trucks were almost completely turned around. Well, if they didn't want to surrender, then that was their decision. It was senseless killing, but if they wanted to be stupid, so be it. Jason couldn't afford excessive mercy when the lives and security of his own people were at stake.

_"That's the last bike!"_ Symone's voice called over the radio. _"The men on foot are runnin'!"_

Jason growled, then blew out his breath. "Nobody gets away, but try to get them to surrender," Jason ordered. "I don't think we need to slaughter them all unless they refuse to give up."

_"Ain't nobody gettin' away from us, sugah!"_ Temika called. _"We've taken the trucks, and we got who's left on the ground dead in our sights! They already gave up!"_

Jason surged forward, and in mere seconds he was at the fourth truck and already had his hand inside the cab. The driver pulled out a pistol and shot him squarely in the visor, but the round ricocheted off and hit the driver in the outside of his shoulder. Blood spattered the seat of the cab as Jason grabbed the gearshift and yanked it into _Park_, which made the engine stall, then grabbed the now wounded driver by the arm and dragged him bodily out of the truck. Men continued to shoot at him as he quickly raced to the last truck, then got to the driver's side door. The driver, a woman wearing a camouflage cap, put her hands up and jammed the brakes. "I give up!" she said fearfully, raising her hands and putting them on the roof of her truck's cab. "I surrender!"

She wasn't the only one. Several combatants were stopping and throwing down their guns and then putting their hands up, but a few were still shooting at Jason and the other defenders. Jason told the girl to stay in her truck and don't move, then barked for the others to drop to the ground, if only to avoid getting shot while rounds sizzled through the air around them. Jason fearlessly zipped into the crossfire, bearing down on the closest man still shooting. He grabbed the man's AK-47 with one hand and elbowed him in the face with the other arm, then slid backwards with great speed until he was further behind everyone else. He leveled the assault rifle with one hand and his damaged railgun with the other on the running men (though they didn't know the railgun was broken), and again shouted in a thundering voice to surrender _right now_ or be shot.

It finally seemed to sink in that they weren't going to get away. One by one, they slowed to a stop and dropped their guns, then raised their hands. The chatter of gunfire ceased quickly, returning the region to the quiet of relative calm. _"We got the north roadblock secure,"_ Regina called over the radio as Jason kept the weapons trained on the men who now had their hands up. _"Had some stubborn assholes that refused to surrender, but Jason knocked the fight out of them."_

_"West roadblock is secure,"_ Symone reported.

_"We got their trucks,"_ Temika said with a wicked chuckle.

_"I think that's all of them, I don't see any movement on the sensors that I can't account for," _Tim informed them.

"Anyone injured?" Jason asked over the radio, dropping his railgun for the moment.

_"Just a few bruises here," _Symone answered. _"A couple of people got shot, but the armor took it pretty well."_

_I think Leamon has a few broken ribs, but that's about it outside of some nasty bruises,"_ Regina added. _"This armor is the shit."_

_Me and Irwin are just fine, sugah," _Temika added. _"We didn't get a scratch. Can't say the same for the other guys, though."_

"Okay, secure the prisoners. Mika, Symone, march yours to the north roadblock. Let's gather them up here where we have lots of open space to keep them out of trouble. Doc, report to the north roadblock, cause I know we've got some wounded here."

_"I'm on the way, Jason,"_ he replied quickly.

They were a sorry lot, Jason noted as they were marched in. Some were obviously wounded, but they had that shell-shocked look about them that often graced the faces of people who had just been steamrolled. Only now did some of them understand that their opponents were wearing body armor that stopped bullets, only now did they understand the utter act of futility their assault had been. Not only had they been crushed, but their opponents had not suffered a single major casualty. They were placed well distant from the trucks, where they sat on the ground, staring at each other woodenly after they were searched and relieved of all their weapons. The more seriously injured were laying on the road, where Doc Northwood was attending to them with brisk efficiency, with the help of Mary. Once they were all searched and sat down, Jason regarded them. Out of the attacking force, 52 had survived, though 9 of them were seriously wounded. Others had blood on them here or there, but they didn't have life-threatening injuries. There were 47 dead, meaning that they had defeated a force five times larger than themselves.

After dispatching some people to put out the fires the rockets had caused, Jason took off his helmet and shook his hair free of the matting, then regarded them as they gawked at him. "That's right, I'm not a Faey," he grunted in their direction darkly. "And you just lost. Needless to say, I think you have a good idea what's going to happen now."

That same woman who had surrendered gave a stifled sob.

"Oh please, we're not ruthless," he growled. "But you _can_ kiss all your possessions goodbye. They belong to us now. After the doc checks you out, you'll be given a week's worth of food and marched across the bridge into Huntington, and then you're on your own. You can do whatever you want, so long as you never bother us again."

_We gonna screen these?_ Symone inquired curiously.

_I was thinking about it, but I'm not sure how we can keep them under control. We had the bingo hall last time, and all of them tied up. I don't want to leave them unfettered like this for long, they may get bad ideas._

_We just put them in the jail down in Chesapeake, _she answered.

_That's an idea,_ Jason agreed with a nod and slightly pursed lips. "Now, we're going to get you all up and march you into town, where you'll be put in the city jail until the doc can give you a once-over, and we can keep you out of trouble without tying up all our people to keep an eye on you."

"What about my wounded men?" one of them demanded in a strong voice.

"Doc'll take care of them," Jason answered. "When they're healthy, they'll be put out, but we won't leave them to die. That's just not right. Now then, everyone on your feet. We're going for a hike." He looked to Northwood. "You need any help, Doc?"

"You can take those men to the clinic," he replied, pointing to the men behind him. "A couple of these men aren't stable enough to move yet, so I'd like four men to stay with me so we can move them when they're ready."

"Luke," Jason called, and the burly young man nodded gravely.

They used a captured truck to transport the wounded, while the rest of the prisoners were marched to Chesapeake. They were put in the city jail, which was in the police headquarters that was just on the edge of the area claimed by the community, just inside the roadblocks. There were only eight cells in the jail, so each cell was crowded with six or seven men. Jason left Irwin, Regina, and Symone to guard them, then they took the injured men to the clinic and set guards on them while the rest of them collected up all the weapons, dirt bikes, and trucks that were now the spoils of war. It took them almost three hours to gather it all up, then drive it into the community and park it all along the block outside Jason's house. Jason set the others to sorting through the catch to separate it into categories, then he and the city council went back to the jail. While they were walking up that way, Jason explained what was going to happen. "Any possible candidates will be voted on," he assured them. "But Symone _is_ going to screen them."

"That may be a hard sell, Jason," Regina said. "I don't think anyone's gonna be voted in that was shooting at us a while ago."

"Well, if you don't recall, most of the community is made up of people who shot at each other for years," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but that didn't happen the day we formed the community," she answered evenly.

"True," Jason acceded.

Clem chuckled. "Sometimes I wonder why you don't shoot at each other now," he said.

"Well, we were doing it to survive," Regina shrugged. "But we don't have to do it to survive anymore. It was never personal with me, Clem. It was just business."

"Yeah," Leamon agreed. "I didn't hate any person in the other gangs, just the gang as a whole, cause they were a threat to us. When the gangs got busted up by Jason, there wasn't nothing left to hate no more."

"I'd dare to say that the reason you're here is because Symone was careful only to pick people who shared that mindset," Jason chuckled.

"Most likely," Regina nodded. "I think she did a good job."

"A damn good job," Clem agreed. "Does Doc have any help over at the clinic?"

Jason nodded. "Mary and Ruth, and I'll bet he commandeered Luke, James, Pete, and Larry. I haven't seen them. They're the ones that stayed behind to carry the stretchers."

Regina raised her handheld radio to her mouth. "How's it going, Doc?" she called.

There was an extended silence. _"I'm sorry to say that one of the men has died,"_ he answered. _"There just wasn't anything I could do for him but make him comfortable. The other eight I think are going to make it. The only problem I have is that I have to get the slugs out of them, but I'm still not set up for surgery of this magnitude yet."_

He held his hand to Regina, who nodded and gave him the radio. "We'll figure something out, Doc, just do your best," Jason answered. "Do you need more help?"

_"No son, I've got plenty of hands. I think I'm going to steal Mary, she seems to have a knack for the work. She'd make a good doctor."_

"Well, that's between you and Luke, I guess," Jason told him. "After you get to a point where you can leave, Doc, could you please come over to the old jail? I'd like you to check the other prisoners."

_"I can do that, son. I have these men stable for now. Let me get my bag and I'll be right over."_

Still in his armor, Jason came down into the jail. Irwin and Symone, bearing Tek-9's, kept watch over the eight cells as the captured men and women remained very, very quiet. They had had quite the operation, and the sheer manpower to assault and conquer just about any enclave out in the hills. He doubted that they killed indiscriminately though... something just told him that. Their thoughts mirrored their subdued demeanors, shock and incredulity overwhelming their states of mind, as well as a healthy dose of fear at what was to come. Most of them honestly believed that they were going to be executed. Jason stepped into the hallway holding the eight cells, four to a side, and handed his damaged railgun and helmet to Symone. "Our town doctor's on his way over here," he called. "He's going to check those of you who have injuries and treat them. While he's got you, _she_ is going to screen you," he said, pointing at Symone, who was walking with him. "This town isn't about revenge, it's about living and working together to better the community as a whole. She's going to screen you to see if you have the mentality to live here, and if we can trust you to live and work among us without trying to screw us later on. If you pass that screen, you'll be voted on by the town as a whole as to whether we invite you. If you get voted in, you'll be offered a place in our community. I wouldn't hold much hope for that, though," he said grimly. "You guys just tried to kill us. I'm not sure too many of the townsfolk will take very kindly to that. But we _will_ give you that chance, and we will give them the option to vote on those of you who might have the temperament to live here. Those of you who either fail the screening or are voted down will be released across the bridge into Huntington. You'll have a week's worth of food, clothes, and most likely a knife and some other basic survival gear. Like I said, we're not about revenge. What you do after you cross that bridge is entirely up to you, so long as you never bother us again."

"What about my wounded men?" that same man called, coming up to the bars. Jason looked at him and saw that he was about thirty, with dark hair and a wide face that had a scar on left cheek. He was a burly fellow, wearing BDUs and a black Atlanta Falcons baseball cap. "How are they?"

"I'm sorry, but one of them died," Jason said with a somber frown. "Doc said there was just nothing he could do for him. But he did say that the other eight are stable, and they should make it. He's got his nurse keeping watch over them while he comes here to check the rest of you. Have you people eaten yet?"

"Just breakfast this morning."

He snorted. "Irwin," he called. "Arrange for some lunch for these people."

"Already did, Mayor," Irwin called. "Ruthie's already working on it."

"You guys are lucky," Jason chuckled. "Ruth's one hell of a cook."

The dark-haired man, obviously their leader, sighed, then he laughed ruefully. "Well, this certainly didn't go as planned. We had no idea you had a second suit of Faey armor. My scouts spotted you, so we brought our rockets to you without knowing that the Faey was actually somewhere else. We just assumed that the armor was the Faey. And we thought rockets would take you down."

"Maybe if I was wearing the armor that the Faey occupiers wear, but not this," he said, rapping his knuckles on his burn-stained armor. It was completely undamaged, just a bit dirty. "This is _real_ Faey armor. What most Faey occupiers wear is ancient military surplus junk."

"I'm surprised you didn't use your plasma weapons. I fully expected to lose all five trucks."

"Blowing them up means _we _can't use them," Jason told him. "We planned from the beginning to capture as much of your equipment as we could."

"Smart," the man said, thinking it over. "And since you had two people in that armor, you could just rush right in the middle of us without fear. That explains why you went after the trucks instead of concentrating on my men."

"I don't much like killing if there's any possible way around it," Jason said bluntly.

"How did you capture my other trucks?"

"I have two airbikes," Jason told him. "They ambushed your trucks after you committed to the assault on the town."

"And how did you know we were coming?"

"One of our hunters spotted you up near Ironton. We had eyes in the sky watching you since you got to the far side of South Point. We saw you deploy, so we knew exactly where to place our defenses to stop you."

He chuckled grimly. "Damn clever," he said appreciatively. "You saw us coming like lambs to slaughter, didn't you?"

"That about sums it up," Jason agreed evenly, nodding his head.

"Well, we tried," he said with odd pride. "We came to try to capture your plasma weapons. We knew if there was a Faey here, then there had to be at least one plasma weapon, and that was worth attacking the town to get."

"Why be so crazy?"

"Because just one plasma gun would make us all but unstoppable," he said. "I've seen them in use. You can sit a half mile away and just systematically blow walls apart with one. It would have made raiding fortified compounds much easier, without risking the lives of my men."

"Too bad it wouldn't do much for the lives of the people on the other side of the wall," Jason said with an accusing glare at the man. "They're _men and women_, just like you. Did it ever occur to you to just go up and _trade_ for what you needed?"

"This is reality, my friend," the man said with a scowl. "If they're not with us, they're against us. The survival of _my_ people takes precedence over the survival of outsiders."

"Your philosophy just landed you on the other side of that fence," Jason told him. "How does it feel to be the guy looking down the barrel of a superior force, not sure if you're going to live to see tomorrow? Doesn't feel very good, does it? That's what you inflicted on other people. I hope you really understand it before we let you go. Maybe you'll learn something."

"Fine for you to say that, boy, with your armor and your weapons," the man sneered.

"That's right, I have the armor and the weapons. But so did _you_. Do you see me out there preying on the other squatters with my superior firepower?" he asked pointedly. "I decided to _build_ something with my resources. You chose to go kill people, when you could have done exactly what I did. But you chose the _easy _way out, killing other people for what you need. Don't try to compare us, or try to justify it in your own mind, because you had the same choices I did, and you chose to walk a different path."

Angry, Jason stalked away from the man, then marched out into the cool September air and let it clear his head. Why couldn't these people understand that so long as they fought each other, they reduced _everyone's_ chances of making it out here? When the raiders killed all the people who grew the food, then what? Slow starvation, feeding off each other until there was nothing left? If everyone would just remember what they _used_ to be, how Americans had pulled together to overcome obstacles, they could make life better for _everyone_. They could build a little slice of civilization out here, work together, help everyone through collective effort and the American spirit. The Faey had abandoned these people, let them fight like starving dogs in the wildlands because they refused Faey society, but that didn't mean that they had to abandon their _humanity_.

Blowing out his breath, he turned around and went to go back in. Regardless of his personal feelings, his responsibilities as Mayor demanded he be there. And there were other things to do. The dead had to be buried, and his railgun was in need of repair. He was going to be busy for the rest of the day, that was for sure.

                                        * * *

The town meeting that night was, to say the least, spirited.

Still giddy over their victory that morning, the community was boisterous and maybe a little silly. They were still going through the huge haul of goods and equipment that had been captured from the raiders, taking a break only to attend the meeting, which centered on the events of the day. They talked about what they'd taken from the raiders, from weapons to equipment to little niceties, and then they worked out how to divide it up. Since they didn't use money and there were things that everyone wanted, it was decided that a lottery system would be implemented where everyone drew numbers out of a hat, and the winner got to pick one item from the haul.

Certain things were excluded, naturally. All weapons were property of the community, which meant they went to Clem, the community weaponsmith. All medical supplies and equipment-quite a bit of it, which surprised Jason-went to Doc Northwood, and all tools and building supplies went to Luke and Zach's shop or Jason's shop, depending on what it was for. The food went to the community stores, after the seven day supply for each raider for their exile was excluded. Clothing was sorted by size, and was generally just handed out to whoever fitted into it. Everything else was up for grabs, and that was what they were sorting out. Jason didn't need anything, so he excluded himself from the lottery, but both Tim and Symone were in it.

Temika sat beside Symone, on the other side of Tim, and she was looking around with a kind of wild-eyed wonder. She was fully expressed now, and that meant that she could hear what everyone was thinking. Symone kept half a mind's eye on her newest student, keeping the noise to a level that didn't make Temika panic, but it didn't look like she was going to panic. She was too excited to panic.

After the lottery cycled through the community four times, Jason banged his gavel and got everyone to settle down. "I think we can just declare the rest of the goods open property," he said. "Just take what you want from what's left, and the rest of it goes to storage. We can't be here all night handing out every toothbrush and comb, we have other matters on the floor.

"As some of you might know, Symone screened the raiders while the Doc was checking them out, and she found one person she'll vouch for. So, as per town rules, that person comes up for a vote."

"Who is it?" someone called.

"Symone?" he asked.

"One of the women. Danielle Lewis," she answered.

"So, this may seem like a bit of a rush, but we have to decide if she's in or out before we release the others, which will be tomorrow morning," Jason told them.

"Just so you guys know, she didn't raise a finger against anyone," Symone called quickly. "She was just driving one of the trucks. She didn't fight."

That bit of info caused a quiet rumble to roll through the gathered townsfolk, and from the sound of their thoughts-his curiosity got the best of him-it did indeed make a difference to them. "Alright then, if nobody has any comments or questions, we can put it on the floor for a vote. Anyone?"

There were no questions, so the matter was put to the floor for a vote. And to Jason's surprise, she was accepted by a large margin. It seemed to him that they took Symone's endorsement of someone very seriously.

"Alright, motion passes, we'll invite this woman to join the community. The rest will be put across the bridge in the morning, so nobody plan to sleep in. I'd like a show of force on the riverbank to remind them what they'll be facing if they decide to ever try to bother us again. Any other business before we adjourn?"

Nobody had anything, so they adjourned the meeting and got back to the business of dividing up the captured goods. The winners took their prizes, and then they picked through the remainder for anything they found useful before the rest was boxed up and put in storage. The trucks, including a major capture, a Deuce, were parked over by Luke's shop, and everything quickly got packed away.

The next morning, Jason arrived at the jail not long after daybreak, with Luke, Irwin, and Symone along with him. Most of them were awake, since it wasn't easy to sleep in the cramped cells. "Everyone up," Jason called loudly, banging a nightstick against the bars to get everyone's attention. "After we feed you breakfast, you'll be taken out of the cells in groups of five. You'll be given a week's worth of food and some basic supplies, and then you're going to be put across the bridge. From then on, you're on your own. All I can really tell you is good luck, and I hope you make it."

Jason oversaw the operation without saying too much. After Ruth fed them a breakfast of homemade bread and hot oatmeal, they were removed from their cells in groups of five. The first group included the raiders' leader, who fixed Jason with a steely, cold eye when he was marched out. The man fully expected to be shot just outside the jail. Jason tagged along just for the satisfaction of hearing his thoughts, seeing his surprise when they did exactly what Jason said they would do. Each man was given a bundle of food and basic supplies, enough to last him a week, and then they were marched to the bridge and told to walk. The man kept expecting a shot in the back at any minute, until the curve of the bridge hid them from the townsfolk and made shooting at them impossible. Then, he finally realized that Jason was telling the truth... and he also realized that he had to find a way to survive with a week's worth of food and a pocket knife. But Jason figured they'd be alright, for their thoughts told him that they all intended to band back together just like before, but now their primary concern would be finding food and a safe place to survive the coming winter.

Jason intentionally set it up so the woman who would be given the chance to stay with them, Danielle, was last and alone. That worked out pretty well, since there were 46 people in the jail, and taking them out by fives left her alone. She was the same woman who had surrendered to him at the end of the fight, a surprisingly young woman, looking around 25, with dark hair tied back from her face by a black bandanna folded into a strip and tied around her forehead. She was pretty, if rail thin and a bit gaunt in the face, with nervous blue eyes, wearing an old set of Army BDUs that were about two sizes too big for her. Jason remained behind when the last five were removed from the cell, leaving her alone. He could see her fear without even having to listen to her thoughts. Jason closed the cell door, then took out a rusty folding chair and sat down backwards in it, putting his forearms on the back of the chair and regarding her. "So, you're the last one," he said evenly.

"What are you doing with us?" she asked fearfully, her thoughts convinced that they were just taking everyone out and killing them.

"Just what I said," he answered calmly. "Right now, most of your group is waiting on the other side of the bridge, where we put them out of our community, waiting for the last to be freed. Then I guess they're going to go off somewhere together. It won't be easy for them, that's for sure. No weapons, limited food, with only numbers and planning to get ready for winter. I'm sure you have a lot of work ahead of you, and the next few months won't be pleasant at all."

She gave him a nervous look.

"At least that's what's in store for _them_," he said pointedly. "Remember when I told all of you that the Faey was going to screen you?"

She nodded.

"Well congratulations, you passed," he told her. "Of your entire group, you were the _only_ one that Symone has judged trustworthy. The community voted last night, and they've voted to offer you an invitation. If you want, you're welcome to join _us_."

"Wh-What? You're inviting _me_ to join you?" she asked in disbelief.

He nodded. "Of all your group, you're the only one that Symone says can embrace what we've built here. What we do here, Danielle, isn't much different from what your group did, at least in basic terms. We work together towards a common goal, that goal being survival. But unlike your group, we don't try to conquer the world. We live in our town and we do the best we can. We work hard, and at the end of the day we come home and eat dinner, maybe watch a little TV, talk with friends, then go to bed and do it again tomorrow. We do have some luxuries, though. The lights, for one," he said, pointing at the fluorescent lights glowing over his head. "We have power here. Steve set up cable TV, so people can watch TV, but we're still working on the running water part. We do fairly well for ourselves. We're lucky in that we have some people here with some technical skill, we have a doctor, and we've managed to get our hands on some Faey gear that gives us a major edge when it comes to protecting ourselves.

"Now, you have a choice to make," he told her seriously. "If you accept our invitation, you'll get a house to live in, and we'll do what we can to get you everything you need to live. You will work, girl, don't doubt that. You'll work every day wherever you're needed, or where you do best at, but in return you'll have food, water, shelter, and protection. You'll also have power, some luxuries, and if we can ever get our act together, running water," he grunted. "I have no idea what the other group can offer you, but now you know exactly what each side has to offer. The choice is yours, but you have to make it quickly. If you don't want to join us, I don't want to have to put you out _after_ your friends leave here. That would make it very hard on you."

"What about the wounded?"

"Well, they're staying here for now, but they'll be put out too, once Doc clears them. We'll probably hol