I beckoned Nate with my finger. As he stepped towards me, Mathis fell in behind him and racked his shotgun. "Easy," I said. "No need for that." 

Mathis grumbled but relaxed his pose, allowing the barrel of his gun to point down to the ground.

I led Nate towards the main building, Mathis trailing us. The whole compound was up and about, curious about the commotion. As we walked, my eyes scanned our surroundings, my fingers resting lightly on the trigger of my weapon, ready to act at any hint of a threat.

The crowd behind us faded into murmurs as we stepped into the welcome glow of the HQ's interior lights. Inside was a stark contrast to the chaos beyond our walls; neat, spacious and surprisingly warm. The cabin's wooden floors stretched beneath high ceilings supported by sturdy oak beams. I directed Nate towards a set of plain metal chairs near a heavy oak table scarred with years of use.

"Take a seat, Nate," I instructed, pointing at one chair across from where I chose to sit.

Nate complied wordlessly, his eyes darting around this foreign environment. His hands gripped the edges of the chair as he sank into it, betraying his tension.

Mathis took up a position beside the door, keeping it open a crack. From there he could monitor both our conversation and any activity outside. His fingers danced idly on his shotgun's grip, his gaze hard and mistrustful.

I studied Nate for a moment before speaking again. "Have you travelled far?"

Nate nodded. His gaze flickered to me briefly before returning to his clasped hands on the table in front of him.

"We came from the city," he began in a hushed voice. "Um, uh... Chicago. When things got... bad... we headed for the mountains. Thought we could find safety out here. Closer that the Rockies, you know?"

A flicker of empathy crossed my face before I masked it quickly with impassivity.

"Bad move staying in the town," I said tersely. "Did you know about us before you got there?" My voice carried an undercurrent of suspicion.

Nate shook his head hastily. "No, not at all. But we've known about you guys for a while."

I frowned at that. "Who told you?"

His voice faltered. "Nobody! We'd seen you guys, in town, a couple times. We thought about approaching, but..."

"You didn't know us or what our intentions were." Made sense to me, I'd do the same. Had done the same, in fact.

"Yeah... And you had a lot of people. A lot. Different faces every time we saw you go by." He glanced around the room.

A heavy silence fell over us, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the rest of the camp preparing for a possible attack. I broke it with my next question.

"Do you know anything about the Turned? Numbers? Movements?"

Nate shook his head again, but this time he met and held my gaze. "It's mostly Prowlers. Some Silencers. A couple of Drillers."

I let out a low sigh, my heart sinking. Prowlers were the forward scouts for the Turned, twisted, infested versions of dogs. Vicious, intelligent and could track for miles. There was no way they weren't on the trail of Nate's family. And Silencers were once domestic house cats. Where Prowlers were shock troops, Silencers were the clean-up crew, ensuring there were no survivors. Eating his friends might slow them down for a while, and if they swarmed in from some city, they more than likely needed to rest, which gave us some time. Hopefully.

"Alright," I said finally, standing up from my seat and retrieving my walkie-talkie from its holster on my belt.

"Finn," I called into it softly after adjusting the frequency. The radio crackled with static for a moment before Finn's voice came through.

"Alec? What's the downlow, bud?" his response was informal, but serious all the same.

"Yeah," I responded. "Got a situation."

I relayed what Nate had told me about the Turned in town to Finn, whose silence on the other end spoke volumes about just how ominous that news was.

"We need to prep for possible contact then," he said finally, his voice strained.

"Agreed," I replied curtly. "Ensure all defenses and teams are ready for engagement at first light."

"Right away," Finn confirmed. "Finn," I asked, "Have you cleared the perimeters?"

"Team two is just clearing up perimeter ten, sir. I'm on my way in with team one right now." Ten? That was a mile out in every direction. I glanced at Nate. He was telling the truth; it was just him and his family. I studied his face. He was young, younger than I was even. He was falling asleep in the chair. To fall asleep in enemy hands, he had to be exhausted. Those babies had to be even worse off. He'd fought hard to keep his family safe. I respected that. "Keep team one on alert at perimeter ten."

As I clipped the walkie-talkie back onto my belt, Nate's eyes snapped back open, watching me with apprehension playing across his face. I set my gun by the fireplace and waved at the few of my crew that stood around, and they too relaxed, strapping and stowing their weapons. Relief fluttered in Nate's eyes. I stood before him and set my hands on my hips before addressing the man. "Are you good at anything, Nate? What did you do in the old world?"

"I, um, I was a plumber," he offered. "I was only an apprentice though, but I was really good!"

I raised an eyebrow. We could use a plumber. "How did you escape the ambush?"

"Rachel and I were in the car with the kids while Adam and Leslie were in the hardware store, trying to find things we might be able to use, when... I didn't have... We couldn't..." he struggled to spit out an excuse, some justification as to why he left his friends to die, but his guilt prevented him from doing so.

I held up a hand. I knew the story. It was one I'd lived through myself. Luckily, we'd had over twenty people there to help us out, not four adults looking after three babes.

"What about Rachel?"

"She was a waitress," he said, his voice strained, knowing that her profession didn't offer us anything.

"Are you a coward, Nate?" My question shocked him, his eyes fluttering as he stammered a stream of nonsense. "Why did you leave your friends to die, Nate?" I asked, my voice harsh as I bent down to look him in the face.

"Fuck you," he spit out. "I didn't have a choice. There were dozens of them, we were fucked. I had to get those kids out of there. Adam and Leslie had all the weapons. We didn't have a fucking choice, who the fuck are you to call me a coward?" My companions bristled, their hands going back to their holsters.

I stood back up and set a hand on his shoulder. "Nobody. That was a good answer. You did a good thing. It was a hard thing that's going to haunt you forever, but it was good."

He slumped into his seat, anger still present in his features, but he didn't act on it.

"Stay here," I said.

I stepped outside, closing the door behind me. The night air was crisp and clear, the stars bright above us. I took a deep breath, considering our options. Leaving this family out in the world to die wasn't really an option at all. The moment I knew Nate and his family weren't some raider ploy, turning them away had left the realm of possibility entirely. We had plenty of room and food. But we couldn't have, as he said, "dozens" of Turned on our doorstep, especially not sneaky bastard Silencers.

I glanced back at the cabin. Through the window I could see Nate slumped in his chair, exhaustion etched on his features.

A twig snapped and I turned to see Finn emerging from the trees. He gave me a nod as he approached, his face grim.

"Perimeter's clear. No sign of Turned."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "That's something at least."

Finn gestured to the cabin. "What's your read on them?"

I tilted my head, considering. "They're scared. Desperate. But the man's got guts and he's willing to fight. And a relevant profession. So at least we aren't taking in a group that can't contribute much."

Finn laughed. "Yeah, you can't turn away anyone, can you, Alec?"

I ignored him. "The fuck are we gonna do about this sitch?"

Finn's demeanor cooled. "Well, I'll tell you what we're gonna do. We're gonna go wipe the bastards out before more show up."

I nodded slowly, considering Finn's words. I'd had the same thought, but hearing him confirm it helped, despite the risks. A preemptive strike made sense - taking out the Turned before they became a real threat to our settlement.

"We'll need to scout them first," I said finally. "Get an accurate count, see what we're up against. No use going in blind."

Finn scowled but didn't argue. He knew I was right. Rushing in would only get our people killed.

"I'll take a team at first light," I continued. "We'll assess the situation, see if we can pick some of them off quietly from a distance."

Finn's expression lightened a bit at the mention of quietly taking some out. He lived for that kind of tactical play.

"In the meantime, we should prep the civilians," I went on. "Make sure everyone knows the drill in case things go south and the Turned make it to our perimeter. We'll get the kids and elderly to the safe house, have rotating guards..."

Finn sighed but nodded in agreement. Neither of us liked the idea of holing up like that, but we had to protect our people first.

"I want you leading defenses here while I take Alpha team on the scouting op," I said. "You good with that?"

"Sure thing," Finn said, looking eager for the responsibility. He'd proven himself a strong second-in-command these past months. I knew I could count on him to keep things running smoothly back at base.

"Right then," I said, clasping his hand firmly. I pulled my walkie from my belt once more. "Hey, Irene?"

"Copy."

"Get that girl and her babies up here."