THEM (Season 1): Episode 4 by M.D. Massey Page A

deaders we headed out and made good time sticking to the back roads as planned. The kids took turns scouting ahead, making a sort of contest out of who could cover the most terrain and still make it back to report in every 30 minutes or so. They used the maps I’d procured from the Facility and some inner wolf odometer to gauge the extent of their ranging ahead. Bobby claimed he was winning by a hair, but to be honest I was pretty sure he was taking it easy on Gabby. Despite the advantages the treatments had provided her, she still wasn’t anywhere near being a match for a full werewolf, even a third-gen like Bobby. However, I speculated that she’d be quite the hellion once she grew into her own.
    Around noon, I snapped out of my reverie when Gabby came running back through the trees, triple-time. She pulled to a stop in front of us, breathing hard with her hands on her knees, which indicated just how urgent the situation might be. I tilted my chin up in a questioning gesture, and she squinted up at me and gasped out a response. “Punters, about a dozen located a half-mile east-northeast, heading the same direction we are.”
    “Can we avoid them?” I asked.
    She nodded and replied with a look of disdain. “Yeah. The way they’re moving, a herd of deaders could run past them and they’d never notice.”
    “So what’s the big deal?”
    “Well, I didn’t think you’d want to pass on these guys.” She paused and stood up straight to take a drink of water, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Scratch, that punter with the funny hat is with them—the one who shot me on the boat.”
    Pancho Vanilla, my old friend—also known as Jimmy the Punter.
Time for some payback,
I thought. I nodded once and handed her a canteen. “Well then, this is hardly an opportunity I’d want to pass up.” Gabby’s face hardened at that, and it gave me pause. I wondered at how different this kid’s life would’ve been if she’d grown up watching MTV and shopping at The Gap.
    I gestured at Bobby. “I want you trailing them at a distance and checking in with us throughout the day to make sure we don’t accidentally let them spot us before nightfall. Don’t take any risks; just make sure you know their position when they stop to camp. Gabby and I will stay ahead of them and try to find a safe house close to where they stop so we can ambush them after dark.”
    Bobby bowed with a flourish of his hand. “At your service, sire.” He winked and took off into the trees.
    I turned back to Gabby. She wore a grim expression as she fingered the handle of her Kabar at her waist, and I thought about how I was responsible for more than my own well-being at this juncture. I’d never had to raise a kid before, but I’d spent plenty of time working with kids before the war. Big responsibility, that. At that moment I decided that I’d be damned if I was going to help turn an 11-year-old into a heartless killer.
    I tapped her forearm to get her attention. “Gabby, I know you want some payback for getting shot, and I do too. But, we can’t just go killing everyone who crosses us.”
    “Why not? My
tío
always told me it was the best way to make sure that bad people never crossed you twice.”
    “That’s true, but there are other things we have to consider besides just our own welfare in this life. If we go around killing bad people just because they’re bad, we’re no better than they are in the end. Besides that, humans are in short supply these days. We need to focus on the real enemy.
Them.
”
    She screwed her face up for a second and then looked up at me. “Is that why you let the Colonel live?”
    “Yes, for that and other reasons, but that has a lot to do with it. Gabby, I’ll kill a deader, a rev, a nos’, or a ’thrope in a heartbeat, and I expect you to do the same. But when it comes to killing our own kind, we need to balance our will to survive with remembering what it means to be human.” I paused and