In Never Despair by Jack McDevitt, we learn of a group of travelers looking for what is known as “The Haven.”  We also learn that four of the original six have died thus far.  Chaka and Quait remain. We don’t know much physically about Chaka other than that she is female. Based on the amount of time they have spent on their own travelling it’s easy to assume she is at least in shape. Chaka also has quite a few skills that are very useful to help her survive. She is very capable of riding and caring for the horses, as well as cooking for herself and now just Quait. (She can also brew tea if you find that at all difficult.) She is also very perceptive, can maintain, load, and fire a gun, and seems pretty intelligent. Currently, Chaka is motivated to find Haven, but she is quickly fading and really just wants to go home.

When we come into the story, Chaka and Quait have just buried one of their party members, Flojian, up on a ridge near some ruins. A bit of a way down they are staying in what they describe as a grotto. They describe it having passageways that go deep into the hillsides. At first you wonder if maybe it was built that way, but as the story deepens it’s apparent that nature has taken back a lot of land which then leads you to ask, “How long has the world been like this?” After Chaka meets Winston it’s clear that it has been a long time indeed.

Chaka and Quait are very tired of searching for Haven when we enter the story, and are all but ready to go back home. While they are sleeping, Winston appears in the grotto, and Chaka stirs in her sleep. She prepares to defend herself with the gun in her saddle bag. Winston and Chaka share the most peculiar conversation, that neither of them have their entire grasp on.  Winston learns that much of the world has changed from what he once ‘knew,’ and even states, in not so many words, that both he and Chaka are lost. Chaka explains how tired they are, and Winston says she has just forgotten why she sought out in the first place. It’s not just about fame and fortune; it’s about knowing where you came from, what the world was before she walked it.  Have courage, never surrender, and never despair.

If I was not for Winston and his pressuring that she wanted to know who she was, Chaka would probably have not wanted to continue, and she and Quait would’ve missed out on whatever happens next Do they find Haven? Do they both end up dying? After a lot more time of searching, do they finally go home for real? We may not know, but their characters could’ve done anything, and Winston is a real turning point in this story. Had they just went home, the whole story would have been about defeat, but instead, it is about inspiration.

My character this time around was to be a good guy, but still be able to be a little sneaky, hence the lockpick skill boost. Every other time I played the Overseer would always try to kill me, and I couldn’t figure out what I was saying that made him attack. So this time I just ran by without even bothering and picked the door.  The options I chose let me have nicer responses as well as have some special speech bubbles. While in the vault this isn’t too exciting. When I left the vault, I balanced my Special out just a little so as to be able to carry more things.  When I walked out I promptly leveled and placed points into small guns, lockpick, sneak, melee, repair, and then choose the science perk. From what I can tell so far it is working out well.

Nothing really stuck out at first. There’s a lot desert and ruins, and just general destruction. I explored all of the broken houses, cracked the safe, stocked up on whatever seemed useful, and then headed to the school first. The first impressions entering the school were first shock, to just see the cages there and the gruesomeness. I actually cleared out the school of most of the raiders and then went and talked to the lady in one of the still standing houses — I forget her name. I accidentally shot her once, reloaded and then did it again. I should clean off my desk space. After she was dead I raided her house, and was frustrated that I was still losing karma. She was dead, how could she know?! Onward we go.

I don’t think I would do anything differently in this run through of the game, because it will be nice to see how I play this character out, but next time I think I will definitely try yet another combination of attributes.

I’ve been alive for 22 years and I’ve already read every book to the point of memorization and nothing being written is worth the page it is written on. Lazy dreamy eyed stories about nothing at all. Its hard to be creative in such a stagnant society? That’s not why their stories are awful. They’re awful because their authors try to make them something they’re not.

Robert Neville’s stagnation was beautiful. That’s part of the reason I love him so. Sauntering on through the quagmire of his existence… the pureness of his monotony. The comfort he takes from what he hates, from what is driving him mad.

I have never loved a living soul as I love the man within those tattered pages.

I wonder who wrote his story. What the book’s title was. The cover was worn thin and in tatters long before it found its way to me. It seems fitting somehow, not to know.

I’m leaving tonight, with my friends to head out into the world beyond. He says there are people there! Books! Places! Things I’ve never dreamt of! We’re sneaking out after dark. I’ve already told my parents. Mom cried but they both understand. I haven’t been this nervous and excited in an eternity!

I should pack but have no idea what to bring. I can’t seem to concentrate long enough to be useful.

I would rather die outside than spend one more day in here. If the man from my book would have had a chance like this, I know he would have taken it. I’ll bet Robert would be so jealous if he could see me now!

Nobody seemed to notice when we left. I guess I thought it would have been harder somehow. It seems wrong to me that the husk that had kept me contained my entire life could be so easily shed. I expected yelling or shooting or some sort of… something besides silence and nothing in the dark.

I wasn’t as scared as I thought I’d be when I saw the Horsemen beating up a group of people in the field in front of us. Violence doesn’t feel as unimaginable as I thought it would. Not knowing any of them made it easier of course. My heart skipped a beat when one of the ruffians was standing over my friend with a gun, but he was quickly subdued. Afterwords I cleaned and bandaged wounds for the people the Horsemen had injured. I would have come to help my friends fend off the attackers more directly but that wouldn’t have made a whole lot of sense. I’m a thinker not a fighter. I have better uses than breaking heads in, it would be a shame for talents to go to waste.

Sleeping outside I’m feeling oddly peaceful. I wonder how long it will be until people notice I’m gone. I wonder if they’ll be mad at me. I don’t know exactly what I expect to find out here but hopefully I’ll find something. Hopefully my pretty much inevitable banishment for leaving the village walls will not be in vain. I know there are other people out here. There is a war going on in the area we are traveling through, between different organizations of people. That means there must be something for me to find. They must have ideas and theories and things to learn and discover. There can’t just be nothing left, right? That just couldn’t happen. I can’t bear the cruelty of that possibility. I don’t know how anyone would be able to.

I have to sleep. I can’t sleep. Suddenly its getting harder to breathe. The world is closing in on itself again. Maybe they haven’t noticed I’m gone yet. Maybe I could just go back  before they know I’m gone and live out the rest of my miserable little life in dilapidated comfort. Deep breaths. I’m better than that.

The stars are the same here as they were at home. I wonder how far away I’ll have to go before I’m under a different sky? I know I could figure it out scientifically. I know about the earth’s rotations and the changing patterns of stars across the sky. I just wonder how far I’ll have to go before the sky will be my own.

The sun refuses to rise and clear away this overly patient darkness. I want to do something besides lie here and try to sleep. I want to go somewhere. I don’t care where, but anywhere but here. What if the people from our village come looking for us? What if they find us collapsed here on the ground? What am I supposed to do then? Lie and say I was kidnapped? No. That would be disgustingly cowardly. Besides, no one is going to find us. There’s no way that would happen. As long as we stay out of sight of camp, we’re all on our own.

Why won’t morning come?

Oh shit. I forgot to bring Robert Neville. I probably forgot a lot of things… somehow this one feels the worst. I hope nothing happens to it. Maybe I can go back someday.Right now I don’t see how that could be possible.

Boss says we just have to head out and find it by any mean s necessary. Should prove interesting, at least. “Go until you see the hill. It’ll be near the top of that if it’s still there.” Well, those are the best directions. I want to ask what if it’s not there, but I know better. If it’s not there, then we look somewhere else.

A few hours have already passed on our journey, and I already despise one of the party members. After we find it, maybe we can leave him behind. The world is in shambles, still. Most people only group together and hope the others will help watch their back if they help watch theirs, but it doesn’t always work out that way, and you get your throat cut. Nobody seems to think about trying to rebuild. Then again, Most of the people around don’t even understand that this wasn’t always what the world was like. Not that I have seen it, personally, but I’ve heard enough stories.

Walking by one of the busted out stores, I peer in the window. We all halt to look at it. There is something written on the back wall of the store in something. Something red.  I assume it’s blood, but maybe there’s stuff of value inside if someone took the time to try to make their presence known. I vote for exploring the store.

Two go inside, and sneak around. I’m not sure if the place is any different up close than it is from outside, but they take their time. It’s been about 15 minutes, and still no excitement. I’m ready to just move on. That’s when we see it. There’s movement and noise coming from the side of the building. The four of us back into the doorway for cover, and brace ourselves. It only sounds like one pair of footsteps, but my adrenaline is still set to high. The two inside don’t even notice us, and if they do they are incredibly careless to not come check out what is going on.

The footsteps begin to fade, and for some reason it’s as if my heart sank. I’m not usually this disappointed that I didn’t get to kill someone. The store is cleared and we begin to move on. Up ahead there are guards and an outpost, and that feeling comes back. I’m almost worried I’ve turned into a ruthless killing machine, and there’s usually no coming back from that. Then again, if I have, then who cares about a couple of guards up ahead?

Kyle immediately disappeared to the right. I squinted to allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Light seeped into the building through tiny holes on the walls forming sparkling bridges down to the ground. It appeared that we found some kind of church. There was a large Oriental rug near the front altar, where Kyle was tossing worthless items behind him, and pews to the left. “What the fuck is this place?” Kyle and I said in harmony. Kat walked towards the pews and peeked under a few of them. The guard walked towards Kyle and inspected the discarded items. I walked straight to the Oriental rug.

I dropped to my knees near the edge of the rug and ran my fingers along the tassels. Roen watched me closely from a distance. I leaned down and sniffed at the rug without any reaction. I slowly sat up straight, looked up, wrinkled my nose and sneezed. “Fucking moldy cheese…,” I mumbled as the rug began to twitch. It rippled and flapped as if it were hanging on a clothesline in Kansas and dust slowly circled around it. I let my fingers dance towards the rug. “Rabies…” Roen warned in a slightly condescending tone. I looked over with a smirk, grabbed a hold of the edge of the rug and thrusted it towards the ceiling. My eyes widened with delight at the trap door beneath. “Guys, c’mere!” I exclaimed, shoving the rug to the side. There was a similar lock here on the door. Roen advanced towards it, but I held out a hand to stop him. “Hold on a sec,” I knew there was an idea somewhere up there. “Ah hah!” and that’s when the light bulb lit up above my head. I removed the ribbon stick out from my boot and slid it into the lock. Sure enough, the lock clicked and popped open, revealing yet another red and white ribbon stick. “Yippie!” I shouted, twirling both ribbons around above my head. The guard lifted up the heavy, metal door. Roen began the descent with Kat and I close behind. The walls of the stairwell were covered in mold and cobwebs. We couldn’t see anything until Kat found her led light and Kyle lit up his iPad. I stepped in front of Kat with my arm around her as soon as the lights were on. A man rocked back and forth on his knees, chanting. We all looked at each other with questioning expressions. Kyle spotted the laptop first. He was most concerned about our delivery to Mouser, almost killing someone in the process. I had more important things on my mind. It had been months since I’d heard any music. “Is that your laptop?” asked Kyle. Still chanting, the man looked up at us with wet, bloodshot eyes. “That’s HTML code,” Roen stated calmly.

“What the fuck?”

“Listen, I don’t like giving information out without getting something in return, but maybe, just maybe doing this will help you understand why I am no one’s friend but my own. I was born into this shit hole excuse for an existence without a choice—wish I would’ve clawed my way back into that bitch’s piss hole, at least I would’ve been warm. Name’s Mercury. That’s on account of me having more of that heavy metal in my blood stream than humanly possible, at least that’s what Doc’ Targett told me. A lot of people wonder if my eyes are silver because of it, hell if I know, but what I can tell them is this; mine are open. Are yours?”

Born of uncaring parents and neglected, Matthew Steele was thrust into hardship from the beginning. He endured the physical and emotional trauma he was subjected to by his drug-addicted parents, Rex and Care. When he was eight he witnessed his first rape. At ten he saw his father kill his mother with a machete over a couple of Rundown pills. That night he waited until Rex was passed out in his lean-to and stole his Mosin Nagant. It was a near ancient rifle from some great war long ago. He could barely hold it up with his scrawny arms, but his fingers, strong from the years of labor and hardship, met the trigger with no resistance. Young Matthew stalked off into the wasteland that night, following the path that fate laid before him.

When Matthew was 14 he nearly lost his life to a small gang of vagrants. The sun had set and he was looking for a place to hunker down for the evening. There was a barrel with some wood burning in it near what was left of a school’s playground. He surveyed the area and, against his better judgment, approached the fire. It’s licking flames leapt up into the air, challenging the dark ceiling of the starless sky. He lay down next to the fire and was asleep within a few moments. Shortly after he had dozed off several hoods appeared from behind the school and surrounded him, the dancing shadows cast by the fire skewed their faces, revealing deep, carnal grins. They beat him into unconsciousness and left him bleeding and broken in the street. The gang took the few supplies he’d had. He would have died that night if Dr. Targett hadn’t happened upon him while out scavenging for medical supplies. He brought him back to his abandoned hospital and, through a little trial and error and a lot of luck, helped him into a near full recovery.  While all of his wounds had healed and his broken bones were mended there remained a problem. Dr. Targett accidentally injected him with a very high amount of Mercury (mistaking it for anesthetic). Though he immediately fell ill and remained that way for some time, Matthew’s body, accustomed to torture, had somehow built up an immunity to it within weeks. His eyes glazed over to a steely sheen and he began to grow comfortable in his perpetual chill. After weeks of rehabilitation he vowed to Dr. Targett, the only person who had showed compassion for him,  that he would find something to pay him back with.

After weeks of reconnaissance on the gang’s hideout he was going to exact revenge. Matthew snuck into the compound without anybody making so much as a peep. He found the items they had stolen off  him and he found his Mosin Nagant. He slowly loaded the five round magazine. Then he proceeded to shoot the closest hood in the head at point blank range.  After the first shot rang out the others woke and scrambled, but Matthew’s body was healed and his mind clear. Each member of the gang was gunned down immediately. Soon there was only the leader left, trembling and hunched in a small puddle of piss.

“I-I-I don’t wanna die man. D-Don’t shoot me. I have some information man. Please, don’t shoot!”

“What is it? Speak up now you filthy fuck,” spat Matthew.

“That doc that was healin’ you up. He’s worse than us man, we’re just tryin’ to survive out here man. That guy, he’s a fucking monster! H-he paid us to ambush you that night. Said he needed a new practice dummy, said he’d give us all the Rundown we could take. A-an-and that’s all we had to do, beat you and leave,” stuttered the leader feebly.

Shuffling across the floor to a chest he opened it and proclaimed, “Here man, it’s all here. This whole fuckin’ chest man, said he makes it in the basement of his hospital. This is it all man, just take it, b-but please, man, don’t ki—”

The crack of Matthew’s rifle pierced the night air and brought a pleasant ringing to his ears. As soon as he pulled the trigger he felt different, as if overcome by a shadow—both comforting and disturbing—and that shadow dug down deep into his soul and settled, settled so deeply, it was as if it had been there all along. The rage bubbling inside him subsided and his mind grew resolute and purposeful. He had finally understood things now. The world gave no favors. A man’s path was carved by his hand alone. Interference from the outside world brought only complications and pain. Matthew had followed the illuminated path of fate his whole life; Mercury will not make the same mistake.

“Yeah, I came back and looked for the doc’, but the little bastard was gone by the time I got back. I waited there for days, but the rat must’ve gotten wind of something being wrong. I’ve looked for the fuck my whole life to give him a little payback, but so far no luck. When I find him he’ll wish he’d had just stayed in the hospital that night because now I’m going to make him bleed. My life story ain’t all that special. Just don’t go through it blind like I did, if you do, I can’t guarantee I’ll spare your life if you’re in my way. Hell, I can’t even guarantee that if you don’t, but that’s the point.  Anyways, you ever see the doc’ tell him Mercury’s gonna find him. He’s gonna find him and he’s gonna kill him.”

So, when I and one of my companions heard the distant baying of a pack, we did the most sensible thing. We hid. Not glamourous? I’ve seen friends taken down and eaten by a pack as small as four, and this pack sounded a lot bigger.

One of the first skills you learn out here in the wasteland is how to hide, how to disappear into the rubble, that’s why the majority of people wear dull, drab looking clothing. Camouflage. That’s rule number one. It worked well enough here, though I doubt that would have helped us had they been upwind of us.

We waited for a few long moments after their barks and growls had faded before we left cover. No sense in temping fate, anymore than we have to anyway. We tempt her just by living. In that spirit, we didn’t stand around debating whether or not we wanted to scavenge the area before we moved on. That’s rule number two. We just headed uphill for our destination; a thoroughly looted old supermarket which supposedly had an old laptop somewhere inside.

Apparently, the diagrams for a power plant the settlement wanted to get running again were contained on that laptop. So, when the original courier was killed by Raiders, we were sent to get it. Of course, nothing is ever easy, so before we left, we got word that the MPD had killed all the Raiders. No word on if they had the laptop or not. Best if we started at the laptop’s last known location.

The market had been gone over so many times, that it had become the perfect place to stash things. Three of us went inside. The girl, Claire, stayed outside to keep watch. That’s rule number three. I took one side of the debris-laden floor, and my companion took the other.

We didn’t find the laptop. Which means that either all the Raiders weren’t killed, or the MPD had it. Neither option was good. Shit.

On the upside, I found a scythe that was stashed recently, not a speck of rust on it. I gave it a twirl to get a feel for it. Nice. I tied an old cord I had to it and slung it over my shoulder for safe keeping. Never leave a weapon behind. That’s rule number four.

I started to root through more debris when I heard a quickly muffled cry from outside. Claire. I pulled my taser and went to the front, picking my steps carefully, making no noise. I didn’t see anyone else around. I don’t think anyone else heard. No matter. I saw the man, a Raider presumably, had Claire from behind, with his back to the inside of the market. I just shook my head. The only reason these hedonistic bastards survived was sheer numbers. They didn’t think beyond the moment and what pleasure they could derive.

I brought the taser up, and the nitro round hit him squarely in the back, almost as fast as I could pull the trigger. I heard a sharp “nngh!” and he fell to the ground, taking Claire along for the ride.

I hurried over, checked the Raider. Blood leaked from his mouth, but he didn’t care. I had the power on the taser high enough that it killed him. I pulled a badly maintained .45 from the man’s belt, along with the knife he had apparently been holding to Claire’s throat. I held out a hand to her. “You okay?”

She nodded, a bit shaken. “Thanks.”

“Anytime. Here, hold on to this.” I gave her the Raider’s knife. She nodded, then tucked it away.

The rest of our group had emerged from the old store, both found treasures of their own, but no laptop. I shook my head. Dammit.

“Let’s go. I think we need to talk to the ‘authorities’ about that laptop…”

Roen’s alright I guess. He’s too nice. And he used to be in the Army or something! He always wants to help people. What’s the point of helping people? Never got me anywhere. So we’re looking for this laptop or something. Like I said, I just tagged along for shits and giggles, and because I had nothing better to do. So we meet these people at this radio tower, and trigger-happy guy shoots one of their guys. They threaten us, but then Roen offers to help them and like, fixed up the bleeding dude. Then there was that crazy lightening storm and all the guys rushed to the tower. I guess that like, they’re afraid it could be struck? So we helped them lay down these big rubber mats or something, and then they were all happy. I didn’t even think it was that big of a deal, but whatever. Then Rabies or Roen or someone gave them their jellybeans, and they were all excited. Who the fuck gets that excited over jellybeans?! I couldn’t believe they didn’t have food. It was like we helped them for nothing.

They told us about this one place, though. A church or something. So we went there and Rabies figured out how to pick the lock. I should learn from her…I’ve never been good at picking locks. It’s always been something that could really be useful for me, it’s easier to steal that way. So we go in and it’s fucking weird. It was totally creepy and dark, but I wasn’t scared. There was a weird carpet on the ground, and I told them we should pick that shit up. I totally called that there was a trap door. So we go in there and there’s this weird-ass dude controlling a computer with his fucking mind! That ain’t my kinda shit, so I just kinda stood in the background. I’d rather be back with those guard dudes aiming their guns at us. So I was happy when creepy dude agreed to go back to Mouser with us. And now I guess we’re going to Milwaukee for some shit. I don’t even know where that is.

So when I saw and heard four Horsemen coming, I thought, yeah, we’re screwed. I mean, really screwed. I don’t know how fast horses can go, but it’s probably faster than Winnie. I just clutched onto her fur and waited for the bullets to come.

And they didn’t.

Great. They wanted to convert me. Or, just take Winnie from me. Probably both, but if they couldn’t have me, Winnie would still be a bonus.

The dude in the center looks like he’s the leader; the other three seem kind of dim-witted. Good. Maybe I can distract him. Claim I’ve never heard of the Horsemen.

And, jeez, even the leader is a bit… weird. Who hasn’t heard of the Horsemen? Then again, no one really knows what they do, or why they do it. But he’s going on and on, and I’m just sitting there, on Winnie, on my bear, waiting for… for what?

I came this way with a group of people. Friends, maybe. We’ve stuck it out this far, maybe we’ll keep sticking it out. If I don’t die. But where are they when you need them? Trying to talk to some priest about some laptop. And, yeah, maybe a bear’s hard to hide…

And then I realized, Mr. Horseman asked me if I was interested in joining. Maybe not so nicely, but still.

Deciding to be honest, I say, “I’m not so sure how I feel about killing.” And that’s the truth. I was thirteen when I found Winnie. I killed the guy who was hurting her. I couldn’t stand it. And she was beautiful, even through all the matted blood. But it was worth it, hurting him, just so he couldn’t hurt Winnie. I wasn’t even planning on doing it for the bear. Just so he’d stop. But that little cub had bonded to me or something, and we’ve been basically inseparable since. And jeez, what a thing to be thinking about near death!

“So that’s a no?”

But still, his hands don’t go for his gun.

“No. That means my bear will do the killing.”

And he just gives me this look, like, “Are you out of your mind?!” And yeah, maybe I am, because who else can say they’ve got a trained bear?

But I don’t want to make Winnie perform. I don’t want to make her sit, or stand, or attack, or claw, or even speak. Because then the Horsemen will just want the bear, and my aim is to keep alive, both me and the bear.

I’ll just cling to Winnie harder and hope, pray, that the other members from my group notice what’s happening.

“Well, we know that it could be inside a grocery store, and there’s a store right over there.  It can’t hurt to check it out.” [Michael] was sort of the ringleader for the moment, and I tended to agree with his decisions.  He usually knew what he was talking about.

“Yeah, dude, we should go to that store.  I’m hungry.  Maybe there’s some food in there that isn’t nasty as hell.  Like, Doritos or something.” [Juan] seemed to only think about food at any point, though I was pretty sure he was really looking for drugs.

“Come on, Claire, we’re going toward that grocery store,” [Michael] called in my direction, jolting me from my reverie.  I looked up the hill at our destination, feeling slightly apprehensive about taking such a direct route.  But I complied, following in amicable silence.  We had walked no more than 200 feet when [Derek] suddenly froze, looking alertly over my shoulder.

“Do you guys hear that?” His breathing quickened, and he assumed a crouched stance.  I looked around in confusion.  I hadn’t heard anything at all.

“Yeah, I heard something,” [Michael] said, drawing closer to the crumbling stone fence at the side of the road.

“There’s a pack of dogs headed our way,” [Derek] said in a rushed whisper.  ”About two blocks to the north of here.  We’d better take cover.”

Without thinking, I ran toward the stone wall and vaulted it with ease, landing deftly on the ground in a crouch.  My teammates followed.  [Michael] was the last to climb the wall, and bits of it crumbled to the ground behind him just as the pack of wild dogs came into view.  They were chasing someone – or something – and took no notice of our station, continuing on in the opposite direction of where we were headed.  After a few minutes, we deemed it safe to emerge, and continued on up the hill toward the dilapidated grocery store that, rumor had it, might just contain the laptop we were looking for.

As we reached the building, I noticed immediately that the walls looked about ready to cave in.  ”Hey, guys, why don’t you go and check it out.  I’ll stay out here and keep watch.”  My comrades were eager to explore, not at all concerned about being injured by falling debris.

“I totally got the munchies,” [Juan] said, leading the way into what used to be Trader Jose’s.  [Michael] and [Derek] followed, leaving me outside on my own. I sat on a large chunk of concrete near the entrance that had fallen off the wall.

I took out my one measly piece of tech, my first-gen iPod.  With this, my hopes of getting any information on the whereabouts of my family were pretty slim.  The tech was ancient, outdated; nobody would be able to make anything out of this piece of crap.  Still, I held onto it with the hope that somebody might find it useful.  Worse comes to worse, I could give it to a Curator or something.  It was a little battered, but had that aspect of nostalgia to it.  I spun the click-wheel absent-mindedly, staring at the ground as I scuffed my foot.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even hear the Bandit approach, and suddenly my arms were pinned behind my back, and a knife was at my jugular.  I stifled a scream, not wanting to make any sudden movements that might result in my throat getting slit.

“Please, don’t do this,” I nearly whispered, my voice trembling in fear.  I thought I might be able to talk my way out of this.  ”Look, I have some food, you can take it, take my gun, take whatever you want -”

“Sorry, sweetheart.  I’m just here to have a little fun.”  The man’s greasy beard rubbed against my cheek, and I gagged as I got a whiff of his armpit.  His hand tightened on the knife, and he was bringing my head back to expose my neck, and I heard footsteps, and then -

ZAP!

I felt a tiny surge of electricity running through me, and the knife fell to the ground with a clatter.  Shaking, I turned to see that my attacker had collapsed, and [Michael] was walking toward us, still holding out his Taser, glaring ferociously at the bandit he had just incapacitated.

“Thank you,” I said, picking up the knife and stowing it in my pack.

“Anytime,” [Michael] said, removing a gun from the bandit’s pocket.  [Derek] emerged soon after, taking in the scene without comment.

After a moment, [Juan] appeared in the store entrance, crunching on some stale Doritos obliviously.  ”Did something happen out here?” he asked, not really concerned about the answer.  He continued on ahead of us.  ”Come on, let’s go.  Nothing good in there.”

We continued down the path, unsure of our next destination.