Warm Skins

She glanced his way; acknowledging him.

"Dakota, I have the men. I have the tools. But if you know a thing or two about him, then you know the size of his camp, the numbers he carries. It's going to prove difficult. He's got high walls and a hell of an armory," he paused and eyed her, "with odds like that, it's come down to infiltration. We've mapped out the camp's basic layout and the time stamps and places of patrol his men have around the perimeter. Our plan is to send a separate team within his camp and kill him then. Disable their defenses and hijack their weaponry. Once that's confirmed, the rest of my men will move in to begin the takeover."

Dakota scoffed and shook her head. Ethan and the others glanced at her in confusion.

"He outnumbers you ten to one. The only reason he hasn't attacked yet is because between your camp and his is a wasteland of undead. It's not even worth a trip. You'd have no chance trying to slip a few men in. No." Dakota rejected.

Sloan made a move to strike her but was stopped by Ethan. "That's quite enough. You say you're that confident in his defenses? Or are you not confident in my men's abilities?"

"Your camp is a playground, Ethan. You said it yourself, Frank leads bandits. Killers. Psychos. And he has more of them than you. You stand no chance."

"Then what do you propose? What is it that you have planned for him, wanderer?"

Dakota glanced around the room and saw that all eyes were on her. The room was silent; waiting for her response. She caught Elaine's stare and saw the anticipation in her face. Her blue eyes were hard and focused. Finally, she reached into her pocket and tossed a rusted set of keys onto the table. "That's my plan."

"What the hell is that?" Sloan spat.

"Those are keys to an abandoned FD bunker back in the earlier days of the infection, located in the outskirts of Bostheil."

"A Sepulcher Pit? " Ethan clarified.

Dakota gave him an approving and knowing look. "The 'First Defense' civilian refuge commissioned by the military. Otherwise known as a Seppie Pit."

"Why's it called a Seppie Pit?" Elaine questioned.

Sloan was the first to answer. "Because no help ever came for those who stayed in those bunkers. It marked their graves."

Elaine sucked in a hallowed breath at the coined term; wishing she hadn't asked.

"As of right now," Dakota continued, "it's loaded with fifteen tons of explosives. A little project I've been holding onto for the last couple of years."

The room went silent again as the shock rendered everyone speechless. Ethan was the first to speak up.

"...F-Fifteen tons? Where..."

"Three days ago," Dakota interrupted, "Frank received an anonymous tip about the location of a bunker lined with military grade explosives. It should take him approximately four days maybe more to get there. He should be making his way right about now. What the tip forgot to mention, however, was that the explosives are already active and just waiting for the right visitor to pry open the doors."

Elaine suddenly mumbled aloud. "With an explosion of that magnitude...any undead within several miles will hear it." She looked up at Dakota and saw her expression was indifferent. "No, you can't! You can't lead them there! That isn't right!"

"The initial explosion won't kill all of them. The dead will clean up the rest. Frank will have no allied camps with him if he wants to stake his claim. And he'll go with as much of his camp as he can in order to secure safe passage. The final fight is there." Dakota replied.

"No! No one deserves that kind of death. It's inhumane. How could you even think of setting those demons onto them like dogs? They're people like us, too." Elaine protested.

"They're nothing," Dakota growled, "not a single fucking thing except vermin and parasites."

Elaine quickly turned to Ethan, "uncle, you can't do this. You're the one! You're the one who says that a death by man is still an honorable death. That no one deserves to be butchered and eaten alive."

Ethan stared in hesitation at his begging niece. "Elaine...these people aren't just thieves and scavengers. They rape and torture and murder. They string up the bodies of innocent people like trophies. Do you understand? Look at what they've done to you. Mercy is out of our hands." He reached out and grazed the long rope scar across Elaine's neck.

She quickly turned away from him and shook her head. Ethan could understand her disappointment, but as a leader with the lives of his people on his back, he couldn't afford a bleeding heart.

That being said, she also had a point.

He turned to Dakota with a stern look on his face."I won't agree with a plan that will endanger my men. We will ambush them en-route. That's all. Those explosives will not be detonated unless I say otherwise."

"What?" Dakota snarled.

"Do I make myself clear?" He forced.

Dakota bit her lip and backed down.

When she didn't respond, Ethan continued on. "We'll blind side them. Catch their trail and initiate an attack. Once you've gained sights on them, however, there will only be a short amount of time for you to work. So make it short. Now, how do I know I can trust you, Dakota?"

With a flick of her fingers, she pulled aside her backpack and took out a small hand held detonator and placed it on the table. "Trust me, I've been waiting for this day longer than you."

Ethan flexed his jaw as his gaze fell on the detonating device. Then he brought them back to the young woman before him. "This wasn't going to be a raid or even war for you, was it? Only genocide. You'd no intention of salvaging anything."

Dakota said nothing at the remark and ignored it. "You wanted to hear my plan, you heard it. But with or without your help, I'm doing it."

Ethan and the others watched her wearily as they mulled over the suggestion. But they all knew the answer they'd eventually come to.

He scratched at his stubble. "When do you expect to set out?"

The others around the table glanced at him in a mixture of shock and anticipation.

"I've been delayed long enough. The longer we wait, the greater the chance we fail. He cannot beat us there. We leave tonight." Dakota declared.

"Tonight?!" Sloan snapped, "that isn't enough time to gather our forces or supply for the trip."

"This is a kill mission. We get in, get out, and leave with what we came there for. Frank dead." Dakota countered.

"Ethan-" Sloan turned around to face the old man with wild eyes; imploring him to refuse the idea.

He simply sighed and spoke aloud so that he addressed everyone in the room. "We've worked with shorter notices, Sloan. We're ready. This is what we've been planning all these years for. The time has come, and our chance is now. Remember the families that have been lost to him, the things he's taken from us. We have a responsibility to seek retribution and to keep the people with us safe from now on. That has not changed."

The others listened as his words hushed anymore of their doubts and fears. He was right. They mustn't forget their duty to protect and serve the place they called home.

"Dakota," Ethan called again, "deserters have no place here. Sloan will make sure of that if you decide to make a run for it. She will determine your loyalty. And if you don't return with my men, I will find you and make certain you face your judgement. I may have granted you control of this operation, but I will kill you if you test me."

Dakota watched his stoic expression and hard eyes. For once, the man was serious.

That night, final preparations were made and goodbyes were said. The trip would take approximately 11 hours more or less. Under the watchful eyes of the moon, Dakota and Ethan's army of men gathered their gear and packed them into vehicles.

Before midnight, they were gone.

~

It'd been hours into the night since they left the camp and hours more until they finally saw the tail of the beast. At last, they'd caught up with Frank's entourage.

Through her binoculars, Dakota counted six armored vehicles and two busses making their way down a dilapidated highway. More or less, their own numbers could make up the difference. Now, it was just a matter of how they'd plan their ambush and when.

Dakota tightened her fists as she recalled Ethan's orders. Not setting off the bombs would ruin everything. The old man knew nothing about defeating his enemies. He was just a senile pacifist past his prime. And all she could do was play by his tune. It enraged her.

She let out a long sigh and tried again to focus on the task at hand. Their forces were only a few miles behind Frank's. Hiding in wait. It was easy enough to avoid being spotted now that they were in the city. Like the rest of the world, Bostheil had become a ghost of the past - a barren wasteland for nature to take back into its roots and the dead to occupy.

But it wasn't here that they needed to be. The FD bunker in question was one of the first of its kind. A prototype that ended up being as useless as the U.S military who promised security and swift civilian extractions.

As prototypes, they were built in the busiest parts of the city for accessibility. The bunker they were looking for, however, was located at a sewage treatment plant just outside the city limits. As of the moment, they were only six hours away from it.

Dakota heard a rustling from behind her and set the binoculars down.

"How do you know Frank will be there?" Sloan asked as she came around her.

"Because he's predictable. He only comes out to play when the big toys are brought out." Dakota replied.

"That's not an answer. But be my guest and give me a reason to put a bullet between your fucking eyes."

Dakota sighed. "He's been on the hunt for these particular explosives for awhile. Now that he's found them, he'll want to be there in person."

"And how would you know that?" She questioned.

"Because I've been on the hunt for him."

Sloan watched Dakota with skepticism as she stood up and dusted herself off and walked towards their vehicles.

"There's an obstruction on the main road a few miles out from the treatment plant. Collapsed buildings block any of the usable routes.They'll be forced to turn back around and use the smaller roads. It'll be dark by the time they reach it. We can set the attack for then." Dakota said over her shoulder.

When she got to their men, she ordered for everyone to start loading up and heading out. She was leading the party at the front and was the only one who got to man a vehicle alone. Just as she rounded the side of the military type truck she was driving, however, an unfamiliar sound from within the covered truck bed caught her attention.

It was faint, but undoubtedly there. It was movement. Slowly, she backed up and pulled out her Bowie knife before yanking the flaps of the cover aside. Then, she jumped into the bed and braced herself for whatever faced her.

Hiding amongst the supplies was someone very unexpected indeed.

"Elaine?" Dakota hissed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The blonde woman had been hidden under a pile of tarps and between crates. She sprung to her feet immediately now that her cover had been blown.

"Doing what's right. And making sure you keep your word." She merely said. Dakota stepped back and out of the truck bed when Elaine simply brushed past her.

"I should have you tossed to the side of the road. Does Ethan know you're here?" Dakota questioned.

"It doesn't matter. He will now. But it's too late now to turn back, isn't it? So why don't you just start the truck?" The rebellion in her blue eyes was firm and lively. Far from the obedient little girl who bowed her head at her uncles feet Dakota saw back at the camp.

She could only watch in disbelief as Elaine climbed into the passenger side of the truck. How much more annoyances did she need to take today?

The whole ride was spent in silence as the two women watched the road. Every once in awhile, someone would radio in, but when the chatter was gone, it was still just the two of them.

Dakota was unbothered, albeit a bit irritated. Elaine refused to look at her.

After a few hours, however, the ice was finally broken.

"It's not even true, is it?" Elaine mumbled.

"What?"

"When I asked you about where you were during the infection. You said you were in Pennsylvania when a bartender attacked an officer. The Outbreak was nearly 13 years ago. You don't look that much older from me. You must've still just been a child then, so what business could you have possibly have had at a bar?" Elaine scoffed.

Dakota rolled her eyes. "I don't have time for this."

"Is anything that comes out of your mouth other than insults and acts of murder ever the truth? How old are you, anyway?" Elaine continued. When Dakota didn't answer, she shook her head. "Of course, you can't even answer that. You know, these people that you've brought here - they have names. They have lives and people who are waiting for them at home. To you, they may just be fodder and a means to an end for whatever vengeance you're on the path to rectify, but I will not let you discard them. I won't allow it."

Elaine turned to the window as the words left her. Small droplets of sweat trickled down her neck and over her collarbone. With her curly ash blonde hair in a ponytail, the extent of her rope scar was visible - how it carved itself like a ring around her delicate neck, yet under the soft sunlight, only a faint reminder of it lingered on the soft skin.

"23." Dakota answered after a long pause. Elaine turned to her. "I'm 23. Pennsylvania is my home. It's where I was born and where I lived until the outbreak. My father owned a small local bar in our town. My parents couldn't make enough to afford a babysitter, so I was always there with him.That day he'd been mugged and the guy had given him a good chomp on the hand. He'd been sick with something, but my father didn't pay it any mind and opened the bar as usual. The whole day, he was under the weather." Dakota let out a sigh as the memories flowed in, "and you're right, I was only a child then. I remember sitting at the counter watching the television over his head when he suddenly dropped a glass he was cleaning. He was pale and his eyes were bloodshot. Jerry was a regular at the bar. He always came for a few drinks after his shift at the station. I was sitting right next to him like I always did when he stopped by. He laughed at my fathers mishap, put a hand on his shoulder, and the next thing the both of us knew, my father was over the counter attacking him."

Dakota's eyes remained on the road as she told her story. But even from where Elaine sat, it was hard to read the expression on the woman's face. She could only sit there in shock while listening earnestly.

After awhile, she croaked out a whisper of an apology. "I'm sorry..."

"It's just a story. We all have one about the Outbreak. There's nothing to be sorry about." Dakota replied.

However, her reassurance didn't quell the uneasy feeling broiling inside Elaine. Guilt mixed with her own memories ran wild inside her heart. "My parents and I were always running. Skipping town and hopping from one refugee camp to another. Nothing ever lasted. It was during one of our departures that we bumped into my uncle by chance. My mom's brother. At that time, Ethan was leading a small group of survivors he'd picked up from when he traveled through to Arizona and New Mexico. He wanted us to join him, but my parents had heard of a military camp in Wisconsin that was offering refuge to any survivors. They thought it would be safer there. My mother begged and begged him until eventually, he gave in and followed. But by the time we arrived, the military camp was overrun with the dead. There had been a breach. My parents died there to the horde. I'm 20 now. I've been with Ethan for as long as I can remember."

The women sat in silence as their stories lingered in the air. But this time the silence was comforting. There was common ground, now. Familiarity. Between them, an unspoken respect and regard. When nightfall came, the silence was hopeful.

Just as Dakota had predicted, when they finally reached the obstruction, it was still there. And when Frank and his men came upon it, they turned around. Everything was going according to plan. Whether they continued onto a smaller road or made camp however, was up in the air, but the ending would remain the same nonetheless. Tonight, blood would be spilled.

Dakota radioed for her forces to be on standby and then glanced over the steering wheel up into the sky. For the past half hour, it'd been pouring rain and didn't seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. In fact, it seemed to become worse the more time went on. She saw the telltale signs of lightning behind the clouds and heard the rumble of coming thunder.

Quickly, she made her men shut off the engines and turn off the lights. When everything was quiet except for the heavy pattering of rainfall, they waited. Dakota watched as the lights went out on Frank's vehicles as well. He was going to set camp after all. Then the first crackles of thunder split the sky.

But something didn't feel right. When Dakota didn't say anything, Elaine spoke up.

"Is something wrong?" She asked.

"I don't know."

At their distance and because of the darkness, Dakota couldn't see anything more than the outlines of the enemy's trucks and busses. She couldn't even tell if they had exited their vehicles or not. The feeling grew more concerning and she began to count the cars. Then it hit her. There was one missing.

She reached for the radio as fast as she could to issue a warning but it was too late. As a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky and ushered a deafening thunderous applause, one of Frank's armored trucks sped out from the darkness and rammed into the middle of their formation - right into the side of one of their vehicles. Instantly, it splintered the battered car into an explosive fiery abyss.

"It's a trap! Take cover!" Dakota yelled over the radio. Immediately, gunfire surrounded them as the bandits barreled out of their car. Instinctively, Dakota covered Elaine's head and upper body and shoved her down onto the seats. "Tell the rest of the team to start their engines and get out of here! When I open my door, I want you to get in the drivers seat and make a run for it! Now!"

Taking out an assault rifle, she leapt out from the truck and fired back at the assailants. She struck two down and sprinted closer to the bandits shooting at the other vehicles. Some of the others had gotten out and taken cover as well; firing down the enemy. She signaled for them to stay clear and follow her lead.

Suddenly, distant headlights began to encroach upon them from afar. The rest of them were coming. Dakota glanced back at her truck and was glad to see Elaine reversing out and turning back around. Four more of their units followed suit.

Quickly, she turned her attention back to the fight and took out the last of the bandits. In the corner of her eye, she saw Sloan reloading behind another vehicle and rushed towards her.

"We need to get out of here! They're coming after us!" Dakota urged.

"Where are we supposed to go?" Sloan snapped.

"We can head to the old scrapyard that we passed five miles from here. We're sitting ducks out here in the open."

Sloan nodded and ordered the others to follow them. But they had to be quick. The rest of Frank's troops were already on them. Gunfire split the air just above their heads and riddled the ground below their feet before they could speed off.

The chase was on.

The piercing gunfire and the roar of several engines spiraling across a tattered wasteland overpowered even the thunder that wrecked havoc all around them. Dakota sprayed shots at the chasing bandits as Sloan drove as fast as the car would let her. They needed to get behind cover quickly and level the playing field. At this rate, they weren't going to escape them.