Spirit nods her head a few times, which causes Dani to step back suddenly and bump into me, and Spirit gets nervous as well, pawing the ground. I steady Dani and coo at Spirit, one hand on Dani's shoulder as I stand behind her and the other gently reaching to Spirit as I attempt to bridge the gap between the two.

It takes at least an hour or so of back and forth before Spirit finally lets me put the lead on her while Dani feeds her carrots, and Dani finally smiles as she does so. I gently take Spirit's lead and we take her to the barn where the riding gear sits, the leather old and cracked, but otherwise mostly usable.

"See?" I tell Dani as I put a blanket over Spirit's back before hefting the saddle on her. "Not every horse hates you!"

"I beg to differ," Dani breathes, eyeing Spirit. "I can just feel that she's waiting to nip me in the ass."

"Well, if you keep tempting her with that attitude, she might do just that," I tease back.

With the saddle and bridle on, Dani and I stuff some supplies in the pouches lining Spirit's saddle, and I mount, adjusting as I get used to riding a horse again.

"Come on, Scaredy-Cat!" I tease, offering my hand to Dani as Spirit settles. "I promise she won't bite!"

Dani glances between the horse and me before she sighs, straps her shotgun to the back of the saddle, and shoulders the rifle before taking my hand and carefully hefting herself onto the saddle, sitting snuggly behind me. Spirit adjusts and wobbles for a second before giving a light shake, and Dani's arms fly around my middle as she grumbles, "Oh man, this horse is going to kill me..." under her breath.

I chuckle, though I pat her hands as she starts to squeeze. "Dani, I have to breathe."

"Sorry," she mutters into my shoulder blade, relaxing her grip so I can breathe.

Clicking my tongue, I steer Spirit out of the barn and toward the road at a reasonable pace, Dani slowly relaxing against me as we take in the scenery and follow the frantic tire tracks down the old dirt road.

Snow and frost cover the ground and dust the old dead trees lining the road. What few Ferals we see once we get to the highway steer clear of us, unsure of what to make of what to make of us. A small group follows us for a way before splitting off, seeming to decide that fast food isn't worth the trouble. The abandoned vehicles on the highway have, for the most part, been picked clean, and there are a few places where the tire tracks get mixed with the footprints of other Ferals, but eventually, we hit Dawsonville.

I slow Spirit down to a trot as we ride through, careful to keep as quiet as we can with her clomping hooves on the frozen pavement. The tire tracks make a sudden swerving turn off the main road and down an alley, and at first glance, there's nothing I can see up ahead that could cause them to veer off in such a way. However, upon closer inspection, I notice two bodies on the road, fresh blood staining the snow around them. 

Examining the bodies from atop Spirit, they both seem to be wearing similar long coats with a strange winged knife symbol hand-stitched into the collars. Both bodies, a pair of young men, have matching bullet wounds in their foreheads, and their bodies have been picked clean of their gear.

Urging Spirit onward into the alley, we rounded the corner to see the van had been parked into the side of the building, the back doors wide open. My heart leaps out of my chest as I quickly dismount and sprint into the hole the van had made, leaping into the back of the van. Supplies are scattered inside and there are small splatters and smearings of blood on the inside. Dani struggles to jump off from Spirit and nearly throws herself off in her rush to get down, but she eventually joins me as we search the building for any sign of our friends and family.

A gunshot rings out in the cold air and we freeze, watching Spirit skitter to the side and press herself against the wall of the alley. Another gunshot sounds, followed by someone yelling. Anger rises in my blood as I arm myself with my bow and rush out of the alley and back into the main road, Dani on my heels as we follow the sounds of a struggle.

Further down from where the two bodies lie in the road is a man currently attempting to fend off four Ferals who have him cornered at an intersection.

"Get off of me, damn you!" He shouts, using a rifle to hold back the bigger of the Ferals as it attempts to take him to the ground while the other three circle him to make sure he doesn't run.

Drawing my bow, I let my first arrow fly, the projectile planting itself into the back of the neck of one of the Ferals circling the man, Dani quickly moves in herself, shouldering her shotgun and opting to pick up a piece of rebar from the deserted construction zone and crack the second Feral over the head with it. The remaining Ferals snap their attention to us as the man yelps, surprised at the sudden rescue.

"You there, please!" He exclaims. "Help me out here!"

With another arrow knocked, I let it fly until it finds its new home in the temple of the Feral currently grappling the stranger, and Dani makes quick work of the second one, ramming the rebar up through the jaw of the last Feral and letting it fall.

"Thank goodness," the man pants as I approach him, shouldering my bow. "I thought I was done for back there!"

Drawing my knife, I grab the man by the collar and slam him against the side of an abandoned semi-trailer, and he lets out a loud grunt of surprise as his rifle clatters to the ground.

"Cass!" Dani exclaims, but I don't back down.

The man sputters as I press the knife to his throat, my anger welling in my chest. "Where are they?"

The man gapes at me like a fish, his eyes wild with fear. "Wha-who-"

"The people from the van, where are they?!"

"Are you with the Widows, too?!"

I blink, then eye the man. "What do you mean, 'too'?"

"Those kids in the van," the man sputters, looking between me and Dani. "They were taken, by your people!"

Dani puts her hand on my shoulder, a grave look in her eyes as she shakes her head, and my grip on the man's collar loosens. "No," Dani says. "The people in the van are our people. What do you know about what happened?"

Looking the man over, he wears a similar long coat as the two men on the road, the same strange symbol stitched into his collar. Unlike the two men, he's middle-aged, with wild salt and pepper hair, a five o'clock shadow, and pale blue eyes that dart between Dani and me.

"You," he stutters, his hands slowly lowering. "You aren't with the Widow's?"

"No," I tell him, slowly calming myself down. "We're not. We're just trying to find our friends from the van."

His gaze settles on me, looking grave. "Your name... your friend called you 'Cass', right?" Dani and I share a glance as I finally step away from the man and lower my knife, nodding. "She was looking for you," he says, gulping. "That crazy redhead, she asked about a girl named 'Cassandra' before she executed my nephews. Asked the kids in the van about you, too."

My heart sinks, and Dani tenses behind me.

"Start from the beginning," I tell him.