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before moving off. At least she made it clear the map was useful. For landmarks if nothing else. And it showed a few roads that should exist in one state or another.

Summers left the others to look over the map and instead moved toward the fire. God was it nice to have a fire. The longhouse wasn’t in great condition. He could feel the cool night air leaking in through the cracks in the wall, but it still beat standing out in the cold.

The group spent some time resting, getting their camp set up. Just as he was about to close his eyes, a loud, metallic groan woke him. He looked over to see Nowak bending the sword they’d found into a type of L shape. He had the hilt in hand, while the blade was jammed into some bricks near the far wall.

“Sarge, what in the hell are you doing?” Summers asked.

“Making our friend a replacement leg,” Nowak answered, still trying to bend the sword. Summers was surprised it didn’t just break outright.

“Like a running blade?”

Nowak grunted as he stood on top of the blade, needing to grab a handhold and push himself down. The blade protested, but eventually gave just a little bit more.

“Hey, it bends. And it can probably hold his weight. I think we can rig together something to secure it to the leg. Would you mind getting him? I want to get the height right.”

“If you say so.” Summers had his doubts that it would work, but it gave the man something to look forward to, at least. He headed outside and found Logan on the roof of the longhouse, Asle asleep beside him. He was looking through the scope of a rifle at something in the distance.

“All clear up there?” Summers called up. The last thing you wanted to do was surprise someone with a finger near their trigger. He almost regretted it, as he saw Asle stir, but he was probably going to wake her up trying to get up there anyway.

“Yeah, just some fog. Looks sort of weird, though,” Logan said in response.

Summers made an awkward attempt to crawl up the nearly vertical roof. As he made it up, he saw what Logan was talking about. Fog was starting to roll in from the distance, a sheer wall of it in every direction.

“Yeah, that is a little weird.” Summers saw Asle quirk her head at him.

“Fawg?” Asle asked.

“Fog.” Summers pointed to the distant clouds that were rolling in. “You know fog?”

“Fog?” Asle yelled, now fully awake. “Yeft! No. Um.” She paused, thinking. “Poison!” she said, pointing at the incoming fog.

“Excuse me?” was all Summers could manage.

“Death!” she said, still pointing at the huge mass of fog coming at them.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Summers vaulted over the barricade they’d made at the longhouse door. “Sarge, do we have gas masks?”

“What?” Nowak asked, understandably more than a little confused.

Summers pointed at the door. “Giant cloud of poison heading our way. Masks?”

“Yeah, I saw them. I don’t know if we have enough, though,” Cortez said.

“Get them, now!” He watched Cortez bolt out the door. “Sarge, I’m not sure what’s going on myself, but there’s some sort of fog rolling in and Asle says it will kill us. There’s a lot of it.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Cortez was digging through the top of the Humvee. “Motherfucker! Of course, they’re at the bottom.”

“Why are they at the bottom?” Summers yelled.

“Because I didn’t think we’d need them!” Cortez answered.

“Anyone remember seeing a basement?” Nowak asked.

“If there was somewhere to hide, I don’t think this place would have been abandoned!” Summers called back.

Nowak considered that for a second, then rushed to the Humvee with Summers. “Why are they at the bottom?” It had occurred to him to be on the lookout for something that could kill a town full of people. Now, he supposed they had found it.

Cortez reached under a rack of M4s. She could see the box she’d stored the masks away in, but it was too far back to reach. “Asle, we need you over here!” She hoped the girl could open the box without having to move the mountain of crap on top of it.

“Poison!” Asle said, pointing again at the fog.

“We know!” Summers barked back. And then he realized he was yelling at a likely terrified child who was just trying to warn them about her world’s fucked-up ecosystem. “Come here. We need help!” he said, gesturing to the Humvee.

Asle ran over. Cortez pointed into the gap she was holding open. “Open the green box toward the back!”

Asle understood immediately and dove into the opening. Summers looked at the approaching fog. It was closer now, towering over the small town by at least ten stories.

“Sarge, what if this doesn’t work?” Adams was staring at the oncoming cloud in a mix of terror and confusion.

“I know! I’m thinking!” Nowak looked around, frantic.

Summers noticed that the fog only reached a few stories up on some of the taller buildings. If there weren’t any airtight rooms in the longhouse, maybe they could get on the roof. “We need to get to some higher ground.”

Nowak nodded. “Roof, then try to get into the tree.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Logan asked. He was propping himself up on his good leg.

“Try!” Nowak yelled back.

Asle returned a moment later with a gas mask in hand. Cortez took it, and she headed back into the opening.

“Summers!” Cortez called over. He grabbed the offered mask, quickly securing it to his head. Almost immediately, Asle came out with another that Nowak handed up to Logan.

“I got it. Get clear!” Summers called out, grabbing the edge of the crate Cortez was holding up. She took the next mask for herself, while Summers held the bulk of the crap

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