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The town was small, more of a village really and was ringed by a dry moat. The contents of said dry moat had been turned into the foundations of the curtain wall, a thick berm of soil and stone topped with rubble and scrap metal that couldn't be repurposed into anything but a wall of tetanus. Hawthorne guided the truck to the threshold of the bridge, flashing her tags to the duty guards. The ferret shouted up to his colleague on the watch tower that formed one of the thick gate pillars and the bridge dropped heavily across the moat, kicking up clouds of dust as it landed. The gate, a mess of chainlink fencing, barbed wire and corrugated steel sheets rattled open, sliding back into its recess on small, chunky wheels. Beyond that an old tractor towing a rotting box trailer moved forward into the side street that ran around the inner perimeter of the town with a low, diesel grumble. The guard waved her forward and the Caiman rumbled across the thick wodden slats and iron rivets, into town, the rattle from the engine bay much, much louder.

'Good to be home.' She said as the gate was sealed up again; the tractor reversed back into position as the gate closed. There was a rattle of heavy chains and a dull thud as the bridge was pulled back into it defensive position.

'Sounds like they're expecting trouble.' Jesse commented.

'Word of our tussle with the Crosshairs probably beat us home.' She replied. And she saw how as they drove further into town and turned off the main road to make for the MechYard.

Sitting at the end of the road was an RG-31, its drab paintjob scuffed and scarred from a recent firefight. Her frown turned into a squint which then turned into a hard glare. She pulled into the yard and parked beside what had become colloquially known as the 'yala. She cut the engine and forced the door open. Her boots slapped hard against the road as she landed, her intense gaze fastened on Lieutenant Kushner as he stood beside the 'yala, chatting to one of the mechanics. The grey rabbit looked in her direction, took a second to eyeball the dented and scarred Caiman that was oozing fluids onto the cracked concrete, and then nodded a greeting to her.

She seethed.

'When did you get back?' She called over to him, barely keeping the anger out of her voice.

The others piled out of the truck behind her and gathered to watch as she stalked forward, fists clenching an unclenching.

'It's good to see you, Sergeant. We thought you were dead after you got hit.' He replied. He didn't make a move to walk towards her. Instead, his hand surreptitiously strayed to his M9.

'It was just an IED.' She retorted, 'You knew full well that we survived that!'

He opened his mouth to protest but she was already across the ten foot space between them, her fist breaking his nose.

'That's enough!' A deep voice shouted from the other side of the Yard.

'That's not the first time you've ditched us at the slightest sign of trouble!' She snarled and swung her fist again. He blocked her but couldn't deflect her knee. His breath rushed from his lungs and she fought the urge to stamp on his throat as he landed hard on his backside.

'I said that's enough!'

A large fist grabbed the back of her armoured vest and hauled her away from Kushner who lay on the concrete, gasping, glaring up at her. She sneered at him as she was pulled to one side.

'C-Commander...' Kushner wheezed. He gave a pained salute once he'd managed to drag himself off the ground.

'The fuck did you do now?' The brown bear demanded angrily of them.

'We got hit by an IED and he buggered off into the sunset without so much as good-bye.' Jake said from the sidelines. He added 'Sir,' and threw a perfect salute.

The bear turned and gave Kushner the once over, 'This true, Lieutenant?'

'Comms went down between vehicles, Sir.' He said. Pain underscored his tone and he tried not to hold his bleeding nose or his aching stomach, 'We were ambushed by an unknown amount of brigands with powerful explosives. I made the decision to retreat back to base on the realisation that Sargeant Hawthorne's vehicle was no longer moving and there was no radio contact-'

'They were Crosshairs!' Hawthorne spat, incredulous. No one backed down from a fight with them. They were easy meat within the brigand community. Too small to form a major threat to any community bigger than a hamlet and too weak to be actively hunted down. They simply didn't have the resources to be considered a major threat.

The bear held up a large hand, 'Enough!' He turned his attention to Hawthorne. 'You struck your commanding officer.'

'Yessir.'

'With intention to maim, maybe even kill him.'

'Just a light maiming, Sir. Killing him would get him off the hook.'

He suppressed a thin smile. They'd gathered an audience and mechanics were as bad, if not worse, than old women when it came to gossip. Instead, he waved a quartet of guards over and said, 'Arrest them. Insubordination and assault. I'll be by later for a quick chat.'

Hawthorne went very still. Kushner looked like he wanted to run away. A 'quick chat' with Commander Lopez rarely ended well for anyone on the receiving end. Two guards appeared at her elbows and she let them strip her of her weapons before leading her away. They walked out of the yard, across the road and deep into the small base opposite the MechYard and Pen which consisted of two barracks and a large house for the C.O's offices. Behind the buildings was a small 'prison block', converted from an old warehouse. Old shipping containers stood side-by-side inside, thick metal bars replacing the doors of the reinforced units. Not an ideal set-up, but it worked and the modular build could be easily dismantled and relocated if need be. Need a few isolation units? Just bring in the fork lift and haul a couple containers out and dump them in the field out back. Dumping caged prisoners in the middle of an un-protected field overnight was a good way to make them talk or ensure good behaviour. Or both.

Hawthorne glared at the metal units that towered over her. No one had bothered repainting them after they had been patched up with thick slats of wood and sheet metal. They had just been stacked on top of one another, as if they were awaiting transport. Ten units across and three rows up. Wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling. She was on row two, she realised as the guards led her up a set of metal steps and across a narrow catwalk. She walked into her temporary home without fuss - making one would only make her situation worse - and sat down heavily on the bench as the doors were locked behind her. No privacy, no fresh air, no AC of any sort, just a bucket and the jeers from the handful of other prisoners echoing harshly off their metallic surroundings. If she was going to be in here for the long haul, it was going to get real miserable, real fast. Summer was just around the corner and the humidity was already climbing.

Yet she didn't regret punching Kushner.

He'd deserved it and more.

'Try not to let Terry's screaming disturb you.' One of the guards said. He looked too young to be in uniform and he looked apologetic, 'He ain't been right since he came back from the DZ.'

'Shouldn't he be in the hospital?' Hawthorne asked as the man in question started gibbering louder, his voice terrified.

'Too dangerous. He doesn't react well to sedatives.' The guard shrugged, his thin shoulders making it an exaggerated gesture.

The two turned and walked away, leaving her to her thoughts and the ravings of a disturbed man four cells over. She shifted uncomfortably on the bench. It had been bolted to the side of the container and creaked with each movement. It was barely padded and she figured it had most likely either been a plank of wood at one point or had been stripped from the back of an unsalvagable MRAP or the like. She stretched out on it and started dozing on and off, dreaming in fits and starts of Ma and Pa, their brood and the distant thunder of engines, high overhead as she sat in a dusty tent in the middle of nowhere, listening to the chatter and pop of guns in the distance.

It was a long, uncomfortable night.

The following morning Lopez woke her up from her restless sleep with a tin cup of bitter coffee and a stale bread roll. She propped herself up on one elbow and stared blearily at the bear, uncomprehending of the situation or time. Then the smell of the coffee hit her and she sat bolt-upright on the bench she had been sprawled on, rubbing sleep from her eyes with the heels of her hands.

'Morning, Sir.' She slurred tiredly before heaving a yawn.

'Good morning Sergeant.' He replied in an amused tone. He passed her the cup of coffee and roll through the bars.

She took them with care, squinting up at him, wondering why he wasn't berating her.

'Kushner?' She croaked. Her throat was parched and the coffee stung as she swallowed it. It was bad coffee, just how she liked it; a bitter sludge devoid of milk and sweetener. The bread was just as bad; hard as old boot leather and it sat in her stomach like a lead weight.

'Sitting in Val's basement with cotton wadding in his nose. He's burned through his verbal warnings already, so you better give me a damned good reason as to why I should write up his written warning.'

Hawthorne swallowed a mouthful of bread and winced as it almost got caught in her throat. It really was awful, but the coffee helped to wash it down. She settled back on her bench and explained the previous day's work in as much detail a possible; Tilly's four acre farm and the village sitting at it eastern edge, the two eighteen-wheelers that were now sat in the back of the vehicle pen waiting for attention and the Crosshairs's ambush. She watched his brows twitch as she told him about the Farm and caught a soft curse when she mentioned Ma and Pa's new brood. When she'd finished, she went back to eating as he scratched his chin in thought.

'That truck might still be there. No way the Crosshairs are stupid enough to brave Ma's brats.' He said almost to himself.

'Are we?' Hawthorne asked. The idea of getting her hands on a new truck and a huge gun in one fell swoop was too good to let go so easily. They'd reinforce the town's fortifications and stunt the Crosshairs' expansion out of the outer DZ.

'This isn't an easy decision to make.' Lopez finally said. He pulled a ring heavy with keys from his pocket and unlocked the cell door. He swung it open and stepped aside. Hawthorne paused, unsure, cup still pressed against her lips. 'I believe Chief Hewlette's waiting for you down at The Trough.'

'Sir...?'

'The charges have been dropped. Kushner's on his last warning. He shouldn't have abandoned his troops like that.' His expression turned bleak as he added, 'You strike a commanding officer again though, you're losing your stripes and you're back in here for a much longer stay. Understood Sergeant?'

'Understood Commander.' She stood, saluted and handed the empty mug back to Lopez. He shut the cell door behind her and watched as she hurried out of the warehouse and into the darkness.

The first thing she did was head across town for a wash and a fresh set of clothes. Her house was small, four rooms on the ground floor with an attached garage that had been locked up with numerous padlocks both inside and outside. She trotted up the broken path and jimmied the front door open. Inside all was quiet and she stood at the threshold a moment, her ears rotating as she listened for any signs of life. There was a faint snoring coming from one of the back rooms. Raul was home. She padded down the hallway, kicking the door shut behind her. A series of hard clicks rattled down the narrow space as the locks engaged and she poked her head into the living room at the rear of the house.

He was sprawled across the old sofa, one foot up on the crate they used as a coffee table, his head tilted back. The jaguar was naked, his clothes discarded across the threadbare carpet, a large handgun lay against his thigh in a loose grip. She stood over him and gave his muscular body the once-over. Thin scars and small pock-marks criss-crossed his body in pale lines and dots, and a dark tattoo had been inked so deeply up his left arm in an intricate pattern that his golden fur had been permanently dyed.

She stopped oogling him and waited for a pause in his snoring, and cleared her throat politely. When that didn't work, she kicked him instead. He snorted awake, hand instinctively seizing the grip of his Desert Eagle. He lowered the gun and grinned apologetically.

'Hey babe, good t'see you.' He drawled, pushing himself into a sitting position. He stifled a yawn and hitched his elbow onto the back of the sofa, his thumb grazing the safety of his gun.

'Don't. You'll start me off-' Her words turned into a yawn and she jumped, startled as he fired his gun through the open window.

Something dark green thudded into the withered bush below the window and Raul rolled onto his hip, peering outside. Hawthorne joined him, kneeling on the sofa beisde him, her pinky wriggling about in her left ear, trying to stop the ringing.

'Wonder if we should send it over to Lil...' She mused as she watched the mottled green spider curl up around what used to be its sternum.

Raul safed his gun and put it back in its holster. 'Little shit's been annoying me all week. I even found him in the damned cool box at one point eyeing up my beer.'

'Poor baby.' She pouted.

'Who? Me or the bug?'

'Arachnid. Not bug.' She corrected absently. She cupped his chin in her hand, kissed his nose and said, 'And I meant you. Not the spider.'

'Babe, I love you, but you need to brush your teeth.' He mumbled and fell away from her before she could swat him. He stumbled to the otherside of the room and started collecting his gear, 'By the way, I boiled up some water not too long ago, so you might have some warm water to play with.'

'You're a gem.' She purred. It was just the thing she wanted to hear and she poured the pan of luke-warm water she found on their old stove-top into the bathroom sink. 'What've you been up to this week?' She asked as she stripped off.

'Played guardian angel to Bravo Squad and got a new bipod out of it. My mini brewery's coming along nicely, too. Might speak with Val and see if I can rent out his other shed to expand into. What about you? What did Kushner do this time?'

'You heard about that?'

'It's been a full twenty-four hours since you broke his face and you know what mechanics are like for gossip.' He replied as he rummaged through the cupboards.

She heard another pan being filled and the soft woosh of a camp stove being lit. She sighed, rubbing the damp wash cloth across her breasts. She gave him a quick run-down and soon enough it dissolved into inane banter. Hawthorne drained the dirty water from the sink and grabbed a fresh set of clothes from their wardrobe. She flopped down on the sofa, enjoying the feeling of being truly clean for first the time in over a week. Raul joined her. He passed her a chipped mug of coffee and the two of them settled into a comfortable silence as they sipped their bitter drinks and watched a much smaller spider weaving a web in the corner of the window frame.

'Time is it?'

Raul looked over at the clock high up on the wall above the living room door. It was an old wind up affair and kept time remarkably well. 'Almost time for second breakfast.'

'Shit, I gotta go. Lopez said Eva's down at The Trough waiting on me.'

'When isn't she there?' He grunted, 'I swear the girl lives in that place.'

'I think she rents a room off the landlord.' Hawthorne commented absently as she pulled herself off the sofa and stretched the kinks out of her muscles and spine.

'I stand corrected.' He replied with a small salute of his mug, 'Tell her I said hi.'

Hawthorne leaned down and kissed him, 'Be here later?'

His gaze dropped to her cleavage. He had an excellent view as she leaned over him, 'With any luck.' He smiled lazily.

'Good. We've got some serious catching up to do.' She purred.

The Trough wasn't much to look at. It was a narrow building of brown, crumbling stone wedged between the local pawn shop and the town's only legit brothel. A basket of wilting flowers hung from a rusty iron bracket beside the door frame, swaying on its thin, creaking chain as a heavy-set rat stumbled drunkenly out into the dawn. He smelled like a sewage leak in a brewery and the breath carried on his long belch was worse. Hawthorne gagged. She hoped she had never smelled that bad herself nor would she ever. She gave him as wide a berth as possible as he wobbled uncertainly down the road.

She stepped over the building's threshold and paused, blinking, forcing her eyes to adjust to the gloom. It was darker inside the narrow pub than it was outside, a feat she had never managed to figure out. She grinned when a brown bear in greasy overalls raised a pint glass at her from the other end of the long room. The Trough was quiet, the smell of bacon filled the air and as she sat down at the table beside Eva a pale furred mouse put a bacon sandwich and a pint of ale in front of her. Instinctively, Hawthorne reached into her jacket pocket to fish out payment, but the waitress waved her away.

'Already been paid for.' She said before she hurried off.

Puzzled, Hawthorne looked around the table. Jess was already on her last bite of bacon, her eyes lidded as she 'Mmmed' about it. The doberman smacked her lips and reclined in the frayed bench seat. Eva chuckled and downed the rest of her beer.

'Compensation from Alfa.' She clarified, 'They bought us all breakfast as an apology for ditching us.'

'Turns out, Kushner threatened to make them walk home if they mutinied.' Jess said. She waved her hand above her head and Hawthorne turned to see Corby and Jake enter.

Again, the mouse scurried over and deposited a pair of bacon sandwiches and two glasses frothing with the pair's preferred drinks. Jake cocked his head in confusion as he settled into his seat and pulled half a dozen 9mm bullets from his pocket.

'Been paid for, already.' The mouse smiled.

The greyhound looked confused, 'What just happened?'

'Alfa Squad felt guilty about Kushner. We get breakfast out of it. Which means first dibs on the fresh bacon.' Eva grinned.

Jess burped gently, 'I could eat that again...'

'We got work coming our way some time today, so best not to over eat.' Eva said.

'Really?' Hawthorne said around a mouthful of bacon, her brows rising. It was the best bacon she'd ever tasted. Perfectly salty and nicely crisped. Plenty of butter on the bread, too. The promise of more work, and therefore more pay, just made it taste even better.

'After Tanya flattened him yesterday? Amazing.' Jake said and bit a chunk out of his own sandwich. 'Goddeff, thif'f good...'

'Lopez found me this morning when I was putting the finishing touches on the Caiman. He said we'll be going after that truck sooner rather than later and then ordered me to haul Trash out of the Pen.' Eva explained, 'The Commander wants that truck, the mayor wants it and everyone wants to upset the Crosshairs.'

'What about Ma's new crotch goblins?' Corby mumbled as she chewed.

'They need to be cleared out as soon as possible. We can't let 'em breed too much like we did last time.' Hawthorne replied. 'They're our priority, I'll bet. Bag 'em, burn 'em and take the truck.'

'Do we get to use live bait?' Jake asked absently.

'I volunteer Kufner.' Corby announced, her words muffled by bread.

Hawthorne licked her fingers clean and chugged her ale. It was cold, smooth and had a vague honey flavour. It tasted very much like one of Raul's most recent creations. She rubbed her hands on her trousers and gave them a brief run-down of her night in 'prison'.

'He really dropped the charges?' Eva asked, astonished.

'Yup. Lopez might have had something to do with it, though.' She replied.

'Probably a lot since he wants that truck.' Jake said. He took a swig of his beer and placed the glass down gently, 'Sarge, I really don't wanna go back to the Farm. At least not without plenty of back up.'

'And some serious firepower.' Corby added.

Hawthorne nodded in agreement. The last time Ma and Pa had had kids, it took a month of continuous hunting to route them all and put them down. They'd lost several people plus a couple of vehicles to the brood, but the two mutants were eventually rendered childless. Unfortunately, the pair of them had gone to ground the moment they realised that they were losing the fight. And now they had bred again, sooner than expected. Hawthorne rapped the table top with her fingertips.

'After the last time, I doubt Lopez'd go in half-assed again.' She said.

Bit by bit, the rest of the squad shuffled into the Trough, squinting away the early morning light that was now peeking between the buildings. They settled at Hawthorne's table where they could and the rest slouched into the seats at the table beside them. More bacon and drink was passed around to the new arrivals, the waitress explaining the pre-payment once more. Lillith shrugged and dug into her sandwich and lightly nudged Taylor with an elbow.

'See, if you get it right, this is the outcome.' The large cougar said as she swallowed.

'This is your meat?' Jake asked.

Lillith nodded, looking proud of herself.

'Double-head boar. Strayed too close to my greenhouse last week so I butchered it and sold half of it on. I showed Taylor how to prep the other half last night.'

The wolf looked a little glazed, but food and drink soon perked her up and she managed to tell the others about how well her first experience with plucking geese went.

'Feathers everywhere.' She finished sourly.

'Psh. So hard on yourself. It wasn't too bad for a first timer. Excellent knife control, good anatomical knowledge, cleaned up regularly and made sure the offal landed in the right bucket. I'll make a butcher of her yet.' Lillith beamed proudly.

The insides of Taylor's ears turned red as she blushed. She ducked her head and concentrated on stuffing her face whilst the conversation turned back to the rumour of the day's work, everyone laying bets on what it would be, the largest bets going on the obvious: The Farm.

'Y'know, I could swear I saw a massive bug last night.' Beka said. The ocelot drained the dregs from her glass.

'Raul nailed a giant spider when I got home. They're everywhere this time of year and they seem to be getting bigger.'

'No, this wasn't a spider. I mean, I know it wasn't a spider. I heard the damned thing before I saw it.' Beka grumbled, 'Y'know, when you're half asleep and one sound sounds like another? Like, you'll hear a car alarm going off at the end of the street and the first thing your idiot brain tells you is that its someone whistling or something like that. Well, my dumb-ass brain heard this fucking huge hornet buzzing around outside and immediately thought helicopter.' She leaned forward, splaying her hands for effect, her eyes wide, 'So I fall out of bed, still half-asleep, clinging to my pillow like its a freaking gun, like that's going to save me from a rocket barrage! I smash my knee on my boots on the way down and only then does my brain switch on and I realise that its a bug, not a gunship looking to vape me.'

'Just how big was this hornet?' Jess asked.

'Big. I pulled my sorry ass off the floorboards, threw open my curtains, see this football-sized fucker floating about outside making a noise like a broken-down B-17 and then I did the only sensible thing I could think of.' She said, sobering into mock dignity, 'I ran away.' There was a peal of laughter around the tables, 'I ran like a little bitch and spent the night at Alice's, hiding under her kitchen table.'

The small cougar nodded, grinning, 'She turned up on my doorstep at two in the morning in nothing but her skivvies rambling about murder hornets or something. I can't remember, exactly. It was too early for me to be awake.'

'I've seen hornets the size of my fist, but never that big. And they're rare. The weather kills 'em off too easily round these parts and their size shortens their natural life-span dramatically, so consider yourself lucky to have gotten the chance of a life-time to see one in action.' Eva said.

'Even if you did run like a little bitch.' Jake teased.

Beka stuck her tongue out at him, 'I don't like bugs.'

'We're all aware of that. I've seen you react to itty-bitty ants before.' Hawthorne added.

'They were glowing!' Beka protested.

'Well, yeah, they're s'posed to do that, aren't they?' Lillith said innocently.

'Um, no. They're not.' Beka replied bluntly.

Hawthorne turned to Eva, 'So, what's the situation with our ride?'

'A bolt on the engine mount came loose,' She said, 'which explains the rattle we picked up. The front near-side brake hose got a nice little hairline split, so that got replaced along with some other wheel and steering related bits and pieces. The old radio unit's been pulled and replaced with the latest refurb and we got some new chicken wire. The big ol' dent on the side from the rocket's have been hammered out and patched up, too. Overall, she's still a little scuffed and dented, but she's good to go again.'

'I never want to pull an all-nighter like that again.' Jake said with a tired sigh. He'd spent the entire time working on the radio and checking the rest of the truck's meagre electronics. 'Just dealing with the Faraday cage was a nightmare...'

Hawthorne checked the clock on the wall behind the counter and gave a sigh of her own, straightening up in her seat, 'Almost seven. Better go see Lopez and clarify some things.