It was still morning as they reached the road and took their first steps back into civilization—or at least, what had passed for it just a couple of weeks ago.

  It was an eerie feeling to walk along streets without any cars driving by. For the first twenty minutes or so, they also didn’t see anybody. It was quiet, lonely, dead.

  Eventually, they reached a small neighborhood square where two men had set up stalls selling fresh produce. One had a large workhorse standing behind his stall, the other an ox. Short lines had formed in front of them, but despite the group of people, it was still quiet. It was a combination of the complete absence of background noise typically caused by cars and other devices, and people being withdrawn, keeping interactions minimal.

  As they had left the forest, Michael had rejoined them, and they were walking in a diamond formation along the streets, catching lots of weary and curious glances due to their outfits.

  Their plan was to go to the hospital first, as that was on the way to Brickham’s, the private school where they would meet with Rose and Jane. From there, it wouldn’t be too far to get to the university. Getting to Luz’s sister was slightly out of the way, but they planned to stop there on their return to the forest.

  It was late morning when they reached the more densely populated area where Julia had lived and worked.

  The hospital was a huge affair. It framed a large plaza from three sides. Usually, the plaza was fully accessible from the street, and flower beds and a large, abstract fountain made it a pleasant spot for exhausted hospital staff or visitors to take a break and get fresh air during long visits with loved ones.

  Ben had mixed feelings about the place. It was here that they had saved him from the accident and where he had recovered. But it was also here that his father had not been saved, and where they had spent many painful hours as a family. He had always admired that Julia had been able to continue working here despite the baggage that came with the place.

  Now, however, things were different. The plaza was not open; an ugly, makeshift fence blocked access to the square and therefore the hospital. There was only one gap in the fence, where a handful of heavily muscled men—who gave even Jamal and Michael a run for their money when it came to pure bulk—stood monitoring who was allowed to enter and who wasn’t.

  Ben led the way toward the entrance, but before they got there, Adam stopped the group by approaching a young woman in scrubs leaving the place. “Excuse me, is the hospital closed or in lockdown, or something?”

  The woman nervously glanced back at the men at the entrance and pulled her earlobe with one hand. In a low voice that didn’t carry far beyond their group, she said, “No, we are not closed. But a gang has taken over, controlling who can and cannot access the building. Either you have an employee pass, or they demand an entrance fee—bartered goods worth at least two hundred bucks. If you can’t pay, they’ll reject you. I suggest you pay. There are more of them around—controlling large parts of the city, actually. I gotta go. Sorry.”

  With that, she quickly walked away before they could even properly thank her.

  Michael exchanged a meaningful glance with Jamal, lightly tapping his knuckles. Jamal nodded grimly and looked at Ben. “Warriors. A pretty large gang with sort of a two-tiered structure: lots of muscleheads rented out for small legal and illegal stuff, often barely making enough to fund their monthly steroid bill, and a smaller but very violent inner circle controlling organized crime in parts of the city. You can usually recognize them by their Warriors tattoo on their knuckles.”

  Ben nodded slowly. “I came across them. They were the ones who cleaned out Jane’s shop.”

  “What do we do? How important are those messages?” Adam asked.

  Ben rubbed his neck, thinking. “Probably not worth getting into a life-or-death fight over, but these are some of Julia’s best friends. She wants to let them know she’s fine—and to be honest, I wouldn’t mind having more medical personnel in the Protectorate, should some of them be interested…”

  Adam squinted at the comings and goings at the hospital entrance. “We could ask somebody to deliver the messages for us…”

  “If necessary, I don’t think it’s a problem to take those guys out, boss. All the ’roids have rotted their brains, and most of them aren’t necessarily fighters,” Jamal weighed in.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Let’s go with Adam’s suggestion for now. If that doesn’t work, we can always take it from there.”

  They walked almost a full block to be out of sight of the goons and had to wait a few minutes until a middle-aged man in scrubs came their way. Again, Adam approached him. “Excuse me, could we ask you for a favor?”

  The man looked at him with a wry smile, raising an eyebrow as he scanned their outfits. “Try me.”

  “My friend’s sister is a nurse at this hospital. She had to leave recently for family reasons and wanted to send a few messages to the administration and some friends of hers. We would’ve delivered them ourselves, but we don’t want to mess with these goons over there unless we have to…”

  “Nobody wants to mess with them—that’s the problem. The police have largely given up trying to enforce law and order—to the extent they ever did,” the man said with a chuckle. He looked them up and down again. “You know, in principle, I’m happy to deliver your letters, but you guys look like you could actually take those guys to the cleaners. I know there are quite a few people around here who need the hospital but can’t afford their ‘entrance fee.’ Couldn’t you kick their asses and free us from them?”

  Adam looked to Ben, who scratched his head. Jamal stood with his back to them, scanning the street, while Michael had taken up a position on the other side of the road.

  “The question isn’t so much whether we can take these guys out or not. The problem is that we aren’t staying around. Even if we defeat them, that would only buy you however long until their reinforcements or replacements show up—a couple of hours, max,” Ben said.

  The middle-aged man’s jaw tightened as he processed Ben’s words. “How about if we plan for it? If you take them out, and we’re well-prepared, we can quickly get people into the hospital for treatment. Once they’re in, getting out is much easier. With that approach, we should be good, even if we only have an hour or so…”

  “Protecting everyone” was one of the Protectorate’s values. As he had written it, Ben had thought mostly about his friends and family and those who would join them. They couldn’t literally protect everyone. But people who needed to see a doctor—in the very place that had healed him and served as Julia’s home away from home?

  He looked at Jamal, who looked back. “Yes, boss?”

  “You really think we can take them?”

  “Yes, boss. If it’s those four dudes, it’s not a problem. But we need to be quick and ruthless. And if a lot more of them show up, we need to run.”

  Ben gave it one more thought, then turned to the nurse or doctor they’d been talking to. “Okay, we have an obligation elsewhere at noon. We could probably be back here two or three hours after that. We don’t have much time, though. We’d hit them hard, subdue them, then it’s up to you. Okay?”

  The man grinned at him and reached out to shake his hand. “Excellent. My name is Perry, by the way. Dr. Perry Tauber. I’ll align with a few trusted colleagues and nurses. We’ll get ready to bring people into the hospital once you clear the entrance. Give me your messages; I’ll deliver them now. You guys look trustworthy.”

  After a few more minutes of alignment, Ben and the team left the area to finally head toward their scheduled meeting.

  After a brisk 45-minute walk, they closed in on the parking lot in front of Brickham private school. Ben initially estimated about fifty people, but as they got closer, he revised that number to sixty or seventy. A good mix of old and young, but one thing seemed consistent—a lot of them looked prosperous, if not wealthy. The clothing, the way they carried themselves, the glowing skin. He wondered whether the space was used as a farmers’ market, or if there was another reason people had to congregate here. On their trip through the city, they had rarely seen people coming together in these numbers before.

  They slowed down as they approached, and it took a while until Ben identified Rose, standing on the opposite side of the parking lot. As they got closer, he smiled and waved to her. She smiled back, but he could see some tension around her eyes, and the smile faded quickly, replaced by worry.

  Ben could feel how the people on the parking lot noticed and assessed them. He heard some whispering, and the whole place quieted down as they made their way through the masses.

  Rose was standing with a young man who was a head taller than her, but had the same nose and eyes, as well as a woman of similar age who held a baby in a carrier on her chest. The family wore outdoor gear, backpacks resting at their feet.

  “Hey Rose, how are you?”

  “Ben, gentlemen, it's great to see you. Thanks for coming all the way to meet with us. This is my son, Matt, my lovely daughter-in-law Yujin, and my granddaughter Minji.”

  “No problem at all.” He turned to Rose’s family. “Nice to meet you.”

  Matt smiled, reaching out to shake Ben's hand. “Nice to meet you, too. My mother told us so much about your place. Sorry for being so direct, but we would all like to join you, if your offer to my mother is still open.”

  Ben lifted his eyebrow. “Wow, that is decisive.” He turned back to Rose. “I was expecting that we would still have to discuss this…”

  “Well, if this is too early, we would of course understand, but it turns out that life in the city without electricity and consistent food delivery is really no fun. So, yeah. It was an easy choice, if you would have us.”

  Before he could respond, Ben was distracted by two men and a woman stepping up to them. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Rose massaging her temple and stepping back slightly, distancing herself from the incoming encounter.

  “Excuse me, are you Ben Jackson?” said the woman, who had her gray hair in a tight ponytail and wore a vest over a long-sleeved T-shirt.

  “I am. What can I do for you?”