Inside the bar, the brief disturbance caused by the half-bodied walker had already died down.
Shane leaned against the counter, his chest still rising slightly. The faint relaxation from the alcohol had completely faded, leaving only the sharp clarity of having narrowly escaped danger, along with a restless tension he could not quite name.
"Fuck, this place is bad luck," Merle muttered, stuffing the remaining bottles of bourbon into a battered backpack with practiced ease using his single arm. "No way we're wasting this 'good stuff'."
Daryl quietly gathered up some scattered, unopened hardtack and a few boxes of matches that were only slightly damp.
Leah remained on full alert, not missing even the slightest sound or movement.
Calista checked her gear and said calmly, "We shouldn't stay here. Pack up. We're leaving."
Just as they pulled their zippers closed and started moving toward the back door—
"Vrrr… vrrr…"
The sound of an engine grew louder from a distance, followed by tires grinding over gravel.
Then, with a sharp screech, the vehicle came to a stop right outside the bar.
Leah moved quickly to the side of the front window and peered out through a tear in the curtain.
"A pickup. Six people got out. Armed. They've seen our vehicles."
Rough male voices drifted in from outside, full of undisguised greed.
"Hey, look at this. Two motorcycles and a sedan."
"Damn, those bikes are nice. Way better than our junk."
"There might be good stuff in the car…"
"Let's check it out. Careful. Someone's definitely inside."
Footsteps began approaching the front door.
Calista's mind raced.
They could try the back door, but their vehicles had already been spotted. Slipping away now would mean handing them over, and they could easily be chased down.
In a narrow encounter like this, backing off might only embolden the other side.
She gave a quick hand signal.
The team moved instantly, spreading out into position.
Leah and Daryl slipped into the shadows on either side of the entrance.
Calista and Shane stepped back, using the bar and overturned tables as cover.
Merle moved silently toward the passage leading to the storage room, ready to support or cover their retreat.
No one spoke. The only sound was the soft click of safeties being disengaged.
Bang.
The already crooked door was shoved fully open, light flooding in as dust swirled through the beam.
Six figures entered in a line, blocking most of the light and casting the bar into deeper shadow.
At the front was a lean, short-haired woman with sharp eyes, a large-caliber revolver holstered at her waist.
Behind her were five men, each carrying weapons. Machetes, metal pipes, and one with an old shotgun.
They carried themselves like hardened drifters, the kind who survived by taking from others.
The two groups met face to face in the center of the bar.
The air seemed to freeze.
The short-haired woman's gaze swept quickly across Calista's group.
She paused briefly on Leah and Merle, glanced over Daryl's ready crossbow, then settled on Calista, who stood slightly forward, and Shane beside her, alert and tense.
She made her judgment immediately.
Not ordinary survivors.
Well-equipped. Well-positioned. Eyes full of vigilance.
Trouble.
Calista was assessing them just as carefully.
Six people. Mixed weapons, all dangerous. Especially the woman and the burly man with the shotgun.
Experienced. Not the kind to scare off easily.
The short-haired woman broke the silence first. Her voice was rough, probing, but her gaze stayed locked on Calista, clearly identifying her as the leader.
"Relax. We're just passing through. Looking for some water."
As she spoke, the men behind her kept glancing toward the motorcycles and Shane's sedan outside, their greed barely concealed.
Calista felt a cold smile in her mind but kept her expression calm, her tone even, with a hint of distance.
"Go ahead. We're about to leave."
She did not want trouble, especially since they were outnumbered and the other side clearly was not friendly.
She gestured lightly toward the back of the bar, but her body did not move. She remained ready to act at any moment.
She would not turn her back on them.
The woman nodded but did not move right away. Her gaze lingered on Calista for a few seconds, as if trying to read something from her expression.
Then she casually changed the subject.
"You operate around here? Run into anyone else? Name's Jane. About a month ago, four of our people went missing nearby."
Calista frowned slightly.
Jane listed a few names.
"Randall. A kid. And Dave, Tony, Sean."
Those names hit Calista like a shockwave.
She immediately remembered the four raiders they had taken out on the road.
Her heart skipped a beat, but her face remained completely calm. Even her eyes did not shift. She simply shook her head slightly, with a faint trace of regret.
"Never heard of them. People disappear every day. That's normal now."
Jane stared straight into her eyes, searching for even the slightest trace of a lie.
A few seconds passed.
She found nothing.
She gave a small nod and said nothing more.
With a subtle signal, her men moved cautiously around Calista's group, heading toward the back where water was stored.
Calista watched them go, alarm bells ringing in her mind.
They were not only eyeing their vehicles. They had likely already connected the disappearance of Randall and the others to them, even without proof.
She did not hesitate any longer.
"Let's go," she said quietly.
The team moved immediately, grabbing their things and leaving fast.
Calista's heartbeat picked up. She was almost certain these people were raiders.
They were outnumbered. Even with better equipment, a direct fight would be unwise.
If they could avoid conflict, that was the best outcome.
"Damn, those people don't look right," Daryl muttered.
"They mentioned the missing people…" Shane said, fully sober now.
"Not now. We leave first," Calista cut him off. This was not the time to explain.
Leah and Merle clearly recognized the situation as well. They said nothing, only exchanged a glance.
From what Dave had said before he died, this group was large and operated in separate teams.
They would send small groups ahead to make contact, scout survivor camps, and gather information.
Then the main force would follow and take everything.
Randall and the others they had killed were just the advance party.
...
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