The only words I can shout to Dani are "Get on the bike!" over and over as the Ferals in the lumberyard get closer, and the increased activity receives the attention of the Banshee, who had busied itself with gnawing on the half-bent metal door it heard us use earlier. It gives a screech and begins its chase in earnest, bodily shoving its way through the Ferals to get to us. With a deep rumble, the Banshee leaps, and I shove Dani to the ground as it sails over our heads and plows into a group of Ferals only a few feet from our discarded bike. 

Taking our chance with the distraction, Dani and I quickly crawl towards the dirt bike, gathering our walkies as the Ferals circle the area, unsure whether to attack. The Banshee is currently occupied with an unfortunate screaming Feral, thrashing, and writhing like a snake attempting to strangle its prey. 

As Dani and I all but collapse onto the bike, Dani kicks it on, and the engine's roar gains the attention of the blind creature once more. The Banshee throws its unlucky chew toy into the crowd of Ferals, inadvertently giving us the opening we need to blaze through. Dani guns it, nearly dumping me off the back end of the dirt bike as we weave through the throngs of infected once more. 

"This is Bait Team to Intercept," I shout into the walkie. "We had a bit of a hiccup, but we're on our way with Ferals and Banshee inbound, over!" 

"Finally!" Sparrow's relieved voice answers, and his ease also carries over to me. "Copy inbound, we've been trying to reach you regarding your bike’s extended warranty, over!"

"You sick, beautiful bastard, hang tight, and you can tell me all about it at camp, over!" 

"Rodger, Dodger! Over and out!" 

Peeking behind me as I clip the walkie back to my belt, the sight of dozens of Ferals and a Banshee chasing us terrifies me to no end, though I notice we're starting to get too ahead of it. 

"Dani," I shout, tugging at her belt. "Slow down a bit; we're gonna lose the Feral's if we keep going this fast!"

She tenses at my words and lets up the gas a bit, slowing enough to tease the Feral's. "Just keep an eye on that Banshee thing then, would you?"

I nod against her back, turning to make sure that we're just far enough to stay out of its leaping range of the monster and close enough to give it hope that we're a decent meal. Though I had never had the chance to really see one up close like this, my siblings and I have dealt with Banshees before, though mainly in the cities. Large, gangly limbs make up most of their form, with elongated torsos and a thick, bulbous head overgrown with tough, leathery flesh. Where the features of its face once were is now roughed over with thick natural armor, sightless, though the slits where its nose should be are large and open, sniffing out the prey before it. The lips of the Feral that was once human are gone now, likely either eaten away during mutation or simply peeled back when its body changed into the grotesque form now chasing us. Long, knife-like claws mark the end of its fingers, and the paleness of them leads me to believe that those claws may actually be bone. 

Just thinking how painful it would be to be caught by a Banshee makes my blood run cold. Luckily for us, Sparrow and Ethan soon join us as they flank either side of the massive Feral gathering we have before us. 

The Widows never even knew what hit them. 

Our group rode past the encampment of tents and makeshift shelters decorated with the Widow mark, and a few Widows attempted to shoot us. The shooting, however, did nothing more than spur on the Ferals we've been herding. If ever a Feral could express gratitude, I imagine the Banshee would be thanking us a million times over for bringing it to a buffet of deplorable human beings right before devouring us alongside them. 

The only Widow who caught my attention was that same redhead who had led the attack against Cottonwood on my first day there. It wasn't the confidence she embodied as she stood her ground in the face of death, or the deadly accuracy and power she displayed as she took the head of a Feral clean off with a swipe of her machete. 

No, what had my full attention as we rode past was the look of pure elation that crossed her face as we made eye contact before Dani steered us away from the Widow camp and back towards Cottonwood, those wild green eyes of hers boring into my back as we fled.