"So… eight Cogs. Two kids, and a big green robot. What a catch this is." The large bald man spat next to him, nearly missing the armed stranded next to him. The man's reaction t the spit landing on his foot was restrained anger.

"Great. Strandeds, just what we were looking for." Marcus peered through the bright lights shinning in his eyes. About twenty well armed Strandeds surrounded the group, all on the roofs.

"You Cogs sure know how to make a racket." The Bald man walked over to a mostly intact set of metal stairs, and started to climb down. "We were wondering what… the noise was. Turns out to be… those, right?" he pointed to the three warthogs.

"Yeah, we got a lucky ride, or we would have been Kryll food." Dom spoke back, confidently as he could and loudly.

"That's too bad. If the Kryll had eaten you, then we would have gotten these neat little things. They look really useful." The man jumped the last set, landing in the light.

He had a scarred face, one in particular stretching his entire cheek bone. He was tall, and medium built, giving him a better appearance as a bandit found on the side of a road. He wore what looked like a broken Cog vest, torn diagonally, and spray painted with an inverted triangle on top of the classic 'Gears Skull'.

"Now the question is, what to do with you." He walked right up to Marcus, getting in his face, attempting to provoke the experienced soldier. "Eight Gears." He glanced to the other Strandeds. "Two Brats." And he walked up to the chief. His wide steps came to a halt in the absolute sight of the Master Chief. "And whatever you are, robot-man."

The chief didn't say a thing.

"We were looking for you." Marcus stated as plainly as he could, not wanting to start anything up with them surrounded with guns. "We needed a place to rest, or hide."

"Well boys, maybe we could invite them all for dinner." He said up to the many armed soldiers up on the roofs. "Or… maybe have a game of Thrashball. What you say," he walked up to Cole," right, Cole-Brain?"

Cole went right for him, and Baird and Mark both restrained him.

"Punk, I'll knock you out!"

"Cole!"

"Hey man!" Baird slapped his shoulder, glancing up at the men on the roof, who had aimed with the rifles at them. "Kick his ass another day." Cole shrugged them off, and stepped back, nodding murderously at the bald man.

"We aren't looking for trouble!" Mark said, as forcefully as he could.

"What you say, kid?"

The Bald man had now picked up with Eric and Hank. Hank made short work of pushing Eric forward, separating himself from the bald man.

"What do I say?"

"What, are you def?" The Bald man got closer, breathing the same space as the young stranded, who stood his ground. "Did you say something yet?"

"Sorry." He 'ahem'ed. "Single-Star, six-six-four-nine."

The Bald man blinked. "What?" then he slowly backed away. "Well, well… we got a resident of Rexington. What a surprise." He again turned back to the kid, as he had been addressing the men on the roof.

"It's Eric."

"What?"

"What, are you def?" he stepped up to the bald man. "My name is Eric. Eric of El Mercado."

"Oh… shit."

"Oh shit is right, Gary 'Tough-time'." Eric now walked past him, looking up at the many soldiers. "I think you should lower your weapons, considering who you're pointing them at." And to the surprise of the Gears, the many Armed Strandeds slowly did, looking cautious.

"Eric, what-" Marcus started.

"I'm the son of the Leader of Rexington." He turned back to the others. "It's our home's name. Rexingotn is out City. And my family… well we lead it's military force."

"You said that-" Cortana started, but again was interrupted by Eric.

"Yeah, my real parents died. I was adopted by those who my real family were trying to help. So, im sorta an orphan."

"An annoying piece of shit." Eric turned back to the bald man, Gary.

"What?"

"What makes you think," he started to walk past him," that anyone here gives a SHIT about your status? In fact," he scratched his shiny head," I think we found you all here, killed by Kryll. Or, better yet," he motioned the guns to be positioned on the group," Locust shot you all dead."

"Really?" Eric and the bald Gary were locked in eye contact.

"This is getting no where." Dom stepped forward. "we'll trade you these," he pat one of the warthogs," for passage to your town."

"What?" Gary broke his eye contact. "Those?"

"They're in good condition, they have nice weapons to use, they're fast, and more sturdy than you might think. This one," Dom kicked at the bumper," was hit by a Boomshot."

"You don't say…" he turned around thinking.

Marcus crept up to him, looking at the others. "What are you doing? We need those."

"Not if they can get us into the town, we won't. It's simple trade for Stranded standards." Dom still watched the bald man think.

"You think we can trust these-"

"Strandeds may be assholes," Dom glanced back at the bald man, still thinking to himself," but they have certain principles. A deal is a deal."

"That doesn't mean much." Marcus glanced again at the Strandeds.

"To you and me, a promise has extra meaning, it enhances itself." Dom's eyes scoured each Stranded up on the rooftops. "But to them, words and promises have gotten them nothing, but deals have. A deal to them is as real as locust are to you."

"Scary thought."

"Fine, deal." The bald man turned around, facing them. "We get these, and you get a pass to Rexington. After that, your little friend here had better take care of you."

He motioned them to follow, jumping up to the broken metal stairwell that he had come down minutes ago.

"Wait, so you've been part of an important group in Stranded-city," Baird said, rounding on the kid," and you never felt that you should tell us?"

"I've… actually, we-"he pointed at Hank," Were avoiding the city center."

"Why? Safer is better right?" Dom passed them both, trying to follow the bald man.

"I've been avoiding my parents for a while. And it's hard to do that when they literally control everything in the area that uses guns." He looked slightly depressed, even though he had led them back to 'safety'.

"And, you wanted to come in, riding a white horse, not walk in with guards on either side." Mark also walked past Baird and Eric, waiting for Cole to get up. "Sounds typical really."

"And that little code-" Baird started again.

"Each way in is guarded, and they have a constantly changing password. We're lucky really, it changes tomorrow."

"Does this also explain why you can shoot well?"

Eric considered for a moment. "Nah, I just like fighting… like a Cog."

"You've got some surprises there." Marcus also walked past, followed by the chief, who nodded respectfully at Eric.

"Don't we all." Baird said, after him.

The walk to the 'city' was one of tension. The Gears, being led by well armed Strandeds was bad enough, but the threat of lights going out seemed to haunt every step. Locust also seemed to follow, or the group scouts seemed paranoid. Every turn, they would pause, and perform a dramatic check of the area, looking through every lit area.

The street they had moved on to was similar to that one Delta squad had moved on once, with lights hanging off of wires, flooding the area with light. Rather than decorations however, they were simple lamps and other things tied to a power line, stretched tightly across the street.

"You guys could use some pizzazz." Richard jokingly said as they walked under the simple lights.

"You could use a brain." Retorted the headman, not bothering to turn to the sound of Richards voice. "We don't have the luxury of nice looking things, just those that work!"

"You must get it from the people you kill." Richard retorted.

"Survival of the fittest, pal. You rank in that survival a 'D'."

Richard growled as darkly as he could, mumbling about giving him his own grade past that of the alphabet.

The walk steadily grew away from the dangers that were associated with Locust. Kryll stayed constant as they still soared just above the light, but the dangers of non-human attack were practically gone.

And after what could have been hours, they arrived at a cross section of a former large road. Following the leaders turn to the right, a huge, rugged gate formed of sections of metal plating, car parts, large signs, and other scraps of other things all stood in their way. On top of the gate, two Troika mounted turrets stood, their gunners watching the approach of the group.

"Single-Star, six-six-four-nine." Gary shouted up to them, and one member on the large gate waved another to the side. After a short pause, a motor started up somewhere, and the gates started to creep back and aside.

"What you got there Gary? Looks like spoiled meat!" two other Strandeds laughed at the 'head' gate master's inquiry.

"Oh, I got something special in this mess." He reached back, and rentched up Eric, who almost tripped by the forceful grip.

"Hey!"

"Eric, of El Mercado, was hanging out with Gears!"

The Gate master shook his head disapprovingly, and moved away from the division that now had the gates separated. As he did, he waved them in.

"Looks like we're safe." Mark said, glancing in the gates.

"Sort of." Marcus recalled the reaction Strandeds had when he last met some a few days ago, and that was only because Dom had a deal struck with his pal. Now, they had a deal with cars again, only they were loaning, and Marcus knew all to well that Strandeds took what they could and left anyone they could behind, saving their own sorry asses instead.

"Welcome," Gary said, looking back at the group," To Rexington, Cogs."

(Falls out of computer screen, with the evil girl giving EZB the middle finger in anger)

Man! Never can take a joke about the undead... anyway-

I am soo glad I got that chapter off my chest. And yes, I realize how small it is. But the truth is, I couldn't fit anything in THIS chapter that would stick with its own little plot. Its mostly dialogue and some walking, but with lots of tension. So, I guess that makes it all up.

(knock on the Door)

Who… is it? (opens door, finding a horde of one hundred zombies in the hallway outside of his room)

Zombies: Guuuuuh Groan urrah!! (Translation: Hello! We would like you to consider joining the undead ranks as a zombie so you can write horror related material for us.)

By the tight abs of Nebulous! (Pulls out a shotgun, and wastes three zombies in front of him)

Zombie: Grah! (Translation: Dude, what the fuck!?)

Get away from my stuff! (again blasts three more zombies)

Zombies: Heerrraaaa…. (translation: ok, that's it, GET HIM!!)

(gets pulled into Zombie hoard) AAHHH! No! I can't write zombie stories! I needed a pause in The Hellsing War anyway! NOOOO!!

(blood splatters on the laptop.)