Silence reigned in the passenger compartment as the truck lumbered forward. Once they had gotten out of immediate danger, the people who had saved them had disarmed them at gunpoint, told them to sit on their hands and now watched them for the slightest movement, fingers nervously caressing their shotguns’ trigger guards. Thomas still had the firearm he had hidden under his jacket but was content to wait and see where they were going. After all, why would anybody risk their lives like that only to execute them straight after?

One of the Chosen, a stern man with a nasally voice, had started mouthing off now that the initial surprise had passed: “How dare you treat me like this?” he said. “Don’t you know who I am, what my Worth Score is?” He looked at the bearded man who had helped them in and barked: “Hey, I’m talking to you, you scum.”

The man unceremoniously stepped forward and backhanded him on the mouth, spraying spittle and droplets of blood to the dismay of the person sitting next to him. Then he stepped back, and lifted one finger in front of his lips, staring the hit man in the eyes until he looked down, face contorted in anger. Amber leaned in closer to Thomas, trying to hide behind him.

The truck slowed down and stopped entirely. The back entrance of their carriage was opened, and the bearded man got out, leaving the other guard to watch them from the opposite end.

“One at a time,” the guard said. “Nobody else moves.”

One by one, they jumped down from the vehicle to the ground where they were patted down for weapons now that the men with the truck had gotten situation under control. Thomas sighed when his gun was taken from him once more and took his place in the row that was forming. Amber followed as close as she could.

They were at a large building, the massive sliding door, through which they must have come, was closing and offered him only a glimpse of large, colorful metal containers piled on top of each other. The same containers were stacked inside the hall, creating corridors between the metal rows, like canyons of steel.

“The docks,” he gathered.

Armed men and women looked down on him from atop the crates as well as the catwalk high above. A crane started moving with a metallic screech, lifting one such container and placing it against the gate outside for added defense.

“These guys, whoever they are, are doing some things right at least,” he thought. “Maybe I’ll finally find someone with a lick of common sense.”

A broad-shouldered man with a lean face and clear blue eyes appeared from amongst the containers, with a man and a woman bodyguarding him. He stopped at a distance to the recent arrivals and spoke: “I have good news, not-so-good news and bad news. The good news is you’ll be safe here for the time being. The not-so-good news is we know you are somehow connected to the things that are going on, and we’re going to find out what you know, one way of the other, so I recommend you just tell us what you know. Because if you don’t….well, that’s when I’ll tell you the bad news, and I’d rather it didn’t come to that.”

He examined the row, the people of which suddenly finding something interesting to look at in every direction he was not in. Thomas was the only one to meet his eye.

“I think we’ll start with you, big guy.”

“I’ll tell you what I know, but I must warn everything I know is second-hand as I’m not with these guys,” he explained. “I was only there because I was taken against my will.”

“Me too!” a scrawny man next to him exclaimed. A few others joined his protest.

The man waited for the noise to die down before continuing, in a calm but final tone: “We know what you did to the people you didn't want there. There were no prisoners.” He nodded at Thomas. “Take him to the interrogation container, the rest to the holding cell.”

The guards stepped forward and began shepherding them to the right direction, waving with their guns threateningly to speed them up. They led Thomas in a separate direction after their leader, deeper within the claustrophobic labyrinth of steel. The passageways were slim with many sharp turns and dead ends. “Impossible for a four-wheeler to get anywhere,” he noted. Space opened up around them as they arrived at a court within the metal fortress, with beddings, portable chemical toilets and ladders for easily getting up on the containers. Tired people turned to eye him, men, women and—

“Thomas!” Naomi yelled and ran to hug him before the guards had a chance to stop them. “I’ll never let you out of might sight again if you keep doing this.” Jason joined them and Thomas gave him a pat on the back.

“Where’s the scrawny kid,” he asked when he didn't see Lucas around.

“They’re grilling him for more info,” she said.

“I take you know each other?” said the leader of the bunch.

“Yes, Matthew,” she said. “He’s the one taken by the people who attacked us.”

“So what you told us is true,” he stated. “You’re not with the people we found you with.

Thomas nodded.

“We’re alive thanks to him,” Naomi said. “Once he gets behind the wheel, he’s unstoppable.”

“Is that so?” the man mused, rubbing his unshaven chin. He offered his hand and said: “Matthew Crawford. I’m in charge of this dump.”

Thomas grasped his palm. “Thomas Walker. Compared to what’s out there, this is a five-star hotel.” Crawford dismissed the guards who had stayed in the vicinity looking unsure.

“It’s the best I could do with what I had,” he said. “They can siege us all they want; we won’t crack any time soon.”

“How did you put all this up so fast?”

“I assume you know who is behind all this?”

Thomas nodded.

Crawford indicated for him to follow, and they left the central area behind, travelling down more winding corridors. He explained as they had gotten out of earshot. “They tried to recruit me a way back, and I stayed on board long enough to learn of their plan. When I realized where they were going, I cut ties and started to work on my survival plan. Used to be the master of this dock, before all the work around here got automated, so I knew this place inside and out. Was easy enough to sabotage all those autonomous cranes and move the manual ones to strategic positions. I built the walls and if they try to ram their way through, we can just drop some containers on them. They’ve stayed back after a couple of charged ended with them getting pancaked. Food won’t be a problem any time soon.”

They cleared the maze and headed up some rusted steel mesh stairs to a raised office overseeing the warehouse. Crawford didn’t enter, instead leading them to the catwalks.

“You chose to stay here, even when you knew what was going to happen?”

“I didn’t know it was going to get this bad, but I did prepare for the worst. Where else could I have gone? The plan was global, it’s not like you’re going to be safe on a distant island or a mountaintop when there are autonomous planes and ships. At least here I have the home-field advantage.”

“So why didn't you just go along with the plan? Everybody else seemed enthralled by it.”

“It just didn't sit right with me. They are turning this country into an oligarchy, with everyone else under their boot, and that’s not what America is.”

They paused on the catwalk high above the steel safe haven. From here, they could see the guards patrolling atop the containers while the refugees huddled in the middle of the structure.

“With ships, planes and so on, this place isn’t exactly safe either,” Thomas said conversationally.

“Correct,” Crawford answered gravely. “That is why surviving the beginning is only the first step of the plan.”

“And what is step two?” Thomas said, feeling he already knew the answer.

Crawford turned to look him firmly in the eye. “Attack.”

Thomas leaned against the railing. “You should have just gone to the police. Then none of this would have happened. Hit them before they had the chance to hit you.”

“These people were everywhere, especially in upper management. Besides, with their AI going through all the testimonies, every tip, suspect and piece of evidence, they would have known about me before I got out of the building. It wouldn’t have ended well for me.”

“And now you plan to strike back so things will go back to the way they were before,” Thomas stated, his face unreadable.

“Yes, to put it bluntly.”

Thomas straightened up. “Good luck with your plan. We’ll just take our leave.” He turned to leave but Crawford grabbed him by the bicep.

“Haven’t you been listening?”, he insisted. “There is nowhere to go.”

“The world’s a big place.”

“And Ampere’s technology has covered every inch of it in eyes and ears. Escaping them is impossible, which is why we have to hit them at the heart, which is right here in the city.”

Thomas pulled his arm free. “You may yearn for things to go back to the way they were just a few weeks ago, but I certainly don’t. That’s not a banner I’m going to fly.”

“What about them?” Crawford urged, pointing at the camp below. “Those friends of yours, are you going to endanger them like that, going on the road and hoping you will come across some sanctuary?”

“That’s between them and me. Goodbye.” His tone informed Crawford it was useless to continue the argument. As Thomas passed him, the two-way radio attached to the leader’s belt came alive.

“Gate to Crawford, quick!”

He pulled the transceiver by his mouth and spoke: “Crawford here.”

“A rescue group is returning to base with a lot of enemies in right at their heel. What do we do?”

“Let them in and have everybody with a gun take positions. Everybody else into cover.”

“Roger!”

“That includes you as long as you stay under this roof,” he said firmly, pointing at Thomas.

“Understood,” he said, pulling out his gun. They jogged to the catwalk near the entrance, where the blockade was being lifted aside to permit the car’s entry. The massive door began slowly sliding aside.

“Not an inch more than is necessary!” Crawford yelled to the man managing the controls. “Close it as soon as they’re though!”

The opening door granted them a widening range of vision to the yard outside, like a curtain at a theater. A van struggled ahead, beaten from the sides and back by a mass of vehicles that poured across the yard like a flood of metal. A few streams diverted form the deluge, passing the van and going for the opening into the warehouse. The van’s driver lost control and careened to the side, the wave hitting it from the side and pummeling it mercilessly.

“Block the gate!” Crawford yelled. The crane pilot swung the heavy container back to bar the entry just as the main force of the surge hit it with tremendous clangor. A few vehicles had managed to already get through, and even the laden container was being slowly pushed aside by the force of the steel downpour.

“More crates!” he yelled to the transceiver. “Outer crane, crush them!”

From the windows lining the upper part of the wall they could see the massive crane move laboriously to position its heavy payload above the mass. It released its burden, and the crash made the catwalks sway unsteadily. The horde kept smashing against the barrier, but they would not be getting through any time soon.

Four vehicles had gotten inside, and they now circled the warehouse, unable to get to anyone or find cover from the bullets raining over them from above. People safe above the containers threw Molotov cocktails which crashed against the vehicles that soon were engulfed in flames.

“On my mark,” Crawford spoke, raising his arm. Then he brought it down and people waiting for his signal dropped spiked mats, blowing out the tires of the beleaguered vehicles. Finally, the inside crane dumped a loaded container on top of the crippled attackers, crushing them one by one.

The clamor died down as the gunshots ceased and the swarm denied entry withdrew. A few people cheered, but most just eyed the entrance grimly. They had been only a few moments away from being overrun with more enemies they could have ever destroyed.

Thomas descended to the floor level and headed for the camp in the middle of the fortification. He found Naomi and Jason where he had left them.

“Grab your things. We better leave before the next attack.”

“Where are we going to go?” Jason asked.

“Out of town.”

Naomi pulled him gently but firmly to the side. “We are not leaving,” she said in a hushed tone.

“We don’t have the time to argue about this,” he said, fighting to keep his voice down.

“I don’t want to argue with you,” she said. “But the whole city is surrounded, and it will be next to impossible to get past that barrier. I have to look after Jason and I’m not going to put him in danger. We have food, shelter and other people here. Crawford knows what he is doing.”

“He wants things to go back to the way they were,” he said. “This is our chance to leave all that behind.”

“Please,” he added mentally.

“I’m sorry, Thomas.” She pressed her palm to the side of his neck gently for a moment before turning to go. “You might be strong – or stubborn – enough to not back down even when you’re alone against the current of the world, but the rest of us will just have to adapt to survive.”

He stood there for a long time after she had left, long enough for the shadows painted by the sun’s glare through the skylight to travel from one side to the other. Then he walked up to Crawford’s office, stepping like a man with an enormous weight on his back. Crawford raised his eyes from the video feeds he was following.

“I’ll fight,” he said. “But I’m going to need that kid with the computer. And my car.”