AARON My mouth opened to say I didn’t know when it would happen, but Marcus Hale slapped my arm hard and pointed toward the road. High above where headlights should normally be, a pair of lights tore down Upperbound Lane. They moved too fast, too erratically, and the moment everyone saw them, the world seemed to tilt. The truck slammed into the Outer Vehicle Court, hopping the curb like it had no respect for gravity. It screeched past several parked cars, missing them by inches. Metal groaned and gravel skittered under tires. “Did we get a message from the deputies at the checkpoint?” Marcus called. No one answered. The truck wasn’t slowing. Its monstrous bulk barreled straight at us. Instinctively, we all scrambled from our seats. Some of the people just outside the store panicked, racing for their cars. They must have thought we were the targets. Engines roared. Tires burned. Smoke curled into the night sky. The rear tires slipped, screeching as they fought for traction. The truck slid forward, the front left corner angled toward us like a predator sizing up its prey. Bright LED floodlights on the roof and the LEDs in the grill turned night into daylight. Every surface gleamed painfully. I could make out bullet holes across the hood and a cracked windshield full of fractured glass. Doors burst open. One figure appeared in the cab, standing up but not leaving it, leaning forward between the door and frame. A long, black shape rested in their hands.Before I could process it, another figure jumped out on the opposite side, moving swiftly around the front. The man in front came fully into view. The lights hid his face, but the rifle in his hands was unmistakable. He carried it loosely with one arm. The barrel swept lazily across the ground near our feet, and I could feel the tension in the air. He was close enough to shoot us, far enough that no one could reach him in time. “Nice night for a barbecue, huh,” he said, his voice calm and mocking. My stomach knotted. Fear rose like a wave but stalled. Something had changed. The paralyzing terror I had felt before, the shaking, the dizzying panic, it wasn’t there. My thoughts stayed sharp. My body felt ready. I glanced at the figure on the truck. My first impression had been wrong. Long hair spilled over one shoulder and down her chest.My eyes flicked back to the man in front. Part of me wondered if the woman was his wife, his child, or something else entirely. Marcus stepped forward, hands open. “Hey, no need for guns. We’ll share what we have. We don’t want trouble.” The rifle shifted toward Marcus, then slid aside. He stepped back toward the Mobile Hauler, still trying to keep the situation calm. “Gee, I’m so glad you don’t want a fight,” the man said, laughing. “I was worried I might get hurt.” Elliot raised his hands, palms out. “No need for violence. The sheriff is just down that road. You won’t get away with anything here.” My gaze went back to the hood, noting the bullet holes again. The man laughed and pointed the rifle at the Mobile Hauler. “They’re not going to be a problem. You’re going to want to share that RV with me.” Marcus, Elliot, and Nathan exchanged looks. “Not happening,” Nathan said, his voice low and steady.“You got a death wish?” the woman on the truck shouted. Nathan stared at her. Unflinching. Unafraid. “Do you?” The man laughed, a harsh sound. “Goddamn brass balls on this one, right Trish?” She didn’t respond. Then came a heavy thud. Wet, sickening crunching sounds followed, each punctuated with strained grunts. The man’s head snapped sideways. His body fell hard to the asphalt. Blood and brain matter splattered across the Outer Vehicle Court. The lights went out. Floodlights and high beams died at once, plunging the world into darkness and silence. Gary stepped out from the side of the open truck door. The woman’s rifle was slung across his back. Everyone froze, trying to process what had just happened. I stepped forward, kneeling beside the dead man who had moments ago tried to take everything from us. “You got this one?” Gary asked, his tone calm. I nodded. He moved silently around the front of the truck, disappearing into the shadows. I assumed he was searching the woman he had killed seconds before. Marcus, Elliot, and Nathan joined me. “What are you doing?” Marcus asked. Nathan dropped beside the body, his hands efficient and precise. “Doing what needs to be done,” he said. I felt the weight of those words. They carried certainty, necessity. I followed his lead, searching the man thoroughly, every movement deliberate. The night felt heavy now, the air thick with smoke, blood, and fear. But somewhere inside, a flicker of resolve burned. Fear was still there, but it no longer ruled me.