The group came into the city in the cover of the night. If they hoped to enter undetected, they quickly failed. More and more threats had come up against the Charleston settlement, luckily all had been grossly unprepared to breech much further than the no-man's-land that surrounded the wrecked city. But there was only one reason why the unbreached shanty town had remained such, all recent attacks had come from their own kind, humans. While the Volm continued to fight the Espheni back, the few survivors of the human race had found a new threat against them in each other. Fear, hunger and greed had created a new creature of monster, one just as dangerous as the one that had invaded the planet. These people, the ones who had lived on the edge of life and death for so long, had become radical and unpredictable. Their new found belief in anarchy instead of order ruled their actions and gave no heed to the consequences. And the group that had been discovered today was no different.

A fire fight had ignited between the strangers and Pope's Berserkers and after being pinned down for at least half an hour and becoming low on ammunition, Pope was finally forced to call in reinforcements. That was how Hal got pulled from his retreat back to HQ at the end of his shift at 3 a.m. and back to the edge of the Badlands.

"What did you do?" Hal hollered at Pope over the constant torrent of gunfire coming from their unseen target.

"What did I do? Why is this my fault?" Pope yelled back, keeping his head load behind a cement construction barrier.

"When is it ever not your fault?" Anthony asked him as he crawled toward them. Pope eyed them for a moment then offered a brief shrug. "Touché."

"Has it been like this the whole time?" Hal asked, referring to the gunfire threatening to penetrate them if given the chance.

"Pretty much," Tector said. "Whoever it is seems to think they have enough ammo to go around."

"How many?" Anthony asked.

"Six as far as we can tell, close and bunched together." Tector reported. "They may be well stocked but they don't have the experience to back it up."

"What do you want us to do?" Hal asked him.

"Get around them as best as you can, we'll try to pick them off from there."

"Weaver is going to want a some for himself, try and keep a few alive." Hal reminded them before they parted ways. He was able to move fast enough, considering he could not raise his head higher than three feet from the ground and it was not long before he was almost behind the group. Tector was right, they seemed to have little idea what to do with the weapons they held, only that they could be used to harm which was all they needed them for.

"I'm set." He heard Anthony report over the short-wave radio they each carried.

"Me too." Hal spoke into the device.

"Let the fat lady sing." Pope said.

"On my count," Tector said. "One…two…three." Anthony and Hal stood long enough to shoot off a few rounds toward the group while they were in their blind spot. It worked as a diversion and split up the attackers' focus and suddenly they had fire coming toward them at all directions. It took them only a matter of seconds to gather their bearings enough to shoot back once more. Hal saw Anthony hit the ground in the corner of his eye and fought back the immediate thought that he was dead. First and foremost they had to get the area secure before he could check, no reason to jump to the worst conclusion if you cannot do anything about it until then. But Hal did not have to wait long to find out. Tector's plan had worked and in a matter of minutes the men had the stranger's ceasing fire, laying down their weapons and kneeling in surrender.

"Reach for the sky." Pope barked at them as they slowly moved closer to the group. "Anyone moves and I will have no problem shooting them, you best believe me on that."

"Anthony," Hal called to his comrade without taking his eyes off of their new prisoners. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." His friend groaned. "Nothing but a flesh wound." He sat up, his hand tightly holding on to his upper arm where blood had began to leak through his fingers.

"What'd we do with 'em?" Tector asked. There were at least six kneeling in front of them, their hands high in the air just as Pope had ordered. Another two lay on the ground and from the amount of blood that continued to seep out from them, Hal knew they were dead.

"Zip-tie them and we'll take them with us." Hal instructed as he took out several black zip-ties from a pocket in his cargo pants and handed them out to each of the men still standing.

"Weaver's little pet project." Pope muttered. "Got to tell you, I don't envy you where you're headed." He said louder to the man he was restraining. Each of their prisoners were completely filthy, like they had not seen water in weeks. Their beaten clothes hung on their thin frames and their shoes looked like they were being held together by scraps of fabric tied around them. For not the first time Hal counted every single one of his lucky stars that he and his family had made it to Charleston with the 2nd Massachusetts when they did. If they had not, he felt sure they would have been in no better shape than the men that knelt in front of him.

They were able to move out quickly, their prisoners put up little fight as they were blindfolded and Tector helped Anthony field wrap his arm. Within half an hour they were able to navigate the wreckage that still defined the ruined city of Charleston and arrive back to the safety of Headquarters. Hal had been on watch for six hours and we wanted nothing more than to crawl into the warmth and comfort of his bed. But as protocol would have it, he was forced to help escort their new prisoners down to the holding cells two floors down before he could do anything that involved comfort. He was lining up the shackled men outside of the humvee to be moved downstairs when he heard his name being called.

"Hal." Maggie called from across the garage. She looked exhausted and disheveled, wearing the small shorts and a t-shirt of his that had become her customary sleepwear.

"Mags, what are you doing awake?" He was barely able to get the words out of his mouth before she had crossed the space between them and with no warning began to use her small fists to beat at his chest. Any sign of fatigue had left her face and now all Hal saw was seething anger. "Maggie what the-?"

"It is five in the morning." She berated him while Hal fought to hold back her thrashing limbs.

"I know-"

"You were supposed to be back two hours ago, you stupid, dumb-" She seemed unable to get the words out fast enough. He immediately felt the guilt that washed over him after hearing her. He was supposed to be back two hours ago. He could only imagine what had gone through her head he had been AWOL. Giving up on getting a hold of her flying fists, Hal resorted to holding her tightly against him so her arms were pinned between them.

"Let go of me you stupid, dumb-" Maggie's muffled demands almost immediately melted into soft sobs and she sagged against him.

"I'm sorry Mags." Hal whispered into her hair as he ran his soiled fingers through the long locks. They fit awkwardly around the large bump that was her stomach and Hal found all the comfort he could ever want here. "I'm alright, I swear I'm alright."

"I don't care." She sniffed against his cargo jacket, clinging onto him with all the strength she possessed.