From the shadows between the trees, I glanced at the Stronghold once more, but everything was still quiet. The guards in the towers kept an eye on the four normal zombies circling the fence, or at least as much as they could in the darkness.

I hadn't picked up any hint of a higher-ranked zombie, so I had some time to wander a bit. The moonlight streamed through the leaves above and illuminated small patches of the forest floor.

It looked picturesque, but I could still smell the humans and their Stronghold.

With a faint growl, I drifted between the trees, wondering how far I'd have to go before I'd find clean air and forest where their hunters and gatherers hadn't recently gone.

The deer I'd killed earlier had taken care of my hunger and leveled my mood a bit, but if this crowded feeling didn't abate, there was a good chance I'd end up snarling at someone tomorrow.

It was almost a pity I hadn't found a wandering Runner to snarl at. The only one in the area was locked up in a barn. Regular zombies weren't interested in rank and looked at you like you were an idiot if you tried to challenge them. Nor was I in the right mood to shred a few trees.

A wrestling match would suffice, although I didn't feel like an audience, and Daniel wouldn't leave the group unprotected to go outside of the fence. I stashed that idea away for tomorrow in case my frame of mind took a dip further south. Daniel could take a few hits from me, at least if my blows managed to connect. I didn't particularly feel like losing, which put a damper on that idea.

The lack of easy answers was almost as frustrating as my inability to handle being around people for more than eight hours on a good day. And if Nicky got into any coffee at this stop, my tolerance levels would plummet into non-existence.

My footsteps sped up into a light run as I tried to burn off some energy. Such a thing worked with Nicky, so it was worth a shot.

Fifteen minutes later, I gave up. Nope. That didn't really help.

I gazed up at the moon, which was just a slender silver crescent. Was there a chance a sane Nightstalker might be in the area and up for a friendly wrestling match? My luck had seen stranger things.

The humans shouldn't hear a proximity call from this far away, and even if the guards did, they'd assume it was some other creature way out in the forest.

My lungs filled with air, and my instincts shifted as the low, creepy, owl-like call left my lips. I tilted my head and waited in silence. A wolf pack in the distance began howling in response.

Seconds ticked by, and after half a minute, I shook my head. Either no sane Nightstalker was around, or they didn't want any company. I hadn't picked up any hints of one, so the outcome was expected, but it had been worth a shot.

The wolf pack was still howling for all it was worth, although the sound was getting fainter. A deadly creature announces its presence, and the guardian wolves sound the alarm before hightailing it away. I snorted and shook my head before continuing through the forest.

At least I couldn't smell the Stronghold from here.

I found a couple of dead trees that hadn't fallen down, so I half-heartedly corrected that wildfire hazard, although it still didn't lift my mood. I meandered through the forest aimlessly, hoping its calm ambiance would help me relax.

A familiar echoing call made me whirl around in place with bared teeth as my instincts surged in outrage. The proximity call was some distance away, probably close to where I had originally called, but there was one gigantic problem.

It was my call.

I knew my call and my voice like the back of my hand. Each Nightstalker had a slightly different call. Like a signature, it was unique. Generally, it was impossible to replicate someone else's call, even if you tried. My eyes narrowed as I headed back in that direction.

Someone had copied my call. I was not impressed.

As I got closer, I kept to the deepest shadows and out of sight. My controlex-amplified instincts made it easier since I could just look at a spot and know if I'd be visible or not. I moved slowly and tested the air yet again.

I finally detected the guilty party, but it wasn't a Nightstalker. Humans. Six of them, to be precise. Anyone familiar with Nightstalkers would expect us to go downwind to check on scents, and for that very reason, I was upwind.

My eyes were camouflaged to hide their glow as I crept in close enough to see the group sitting in the underbrush. Apart from a couple of penlights, they didn't have any lights turned on, which was a surprise when they almost certainly knew a Nightstalker – or at least something potentially dangerous – was out here.

One was typing on a laptop and quietly told his companions, "Look at the cross-analysis of this call and the one from four months ago. They're different."

"Both were Nightstalkers, right?"

"Definitely, but it looks like the calls might have different meanings. We might not be able to hear the difference, but the computer can, so I bet the zombies can too. Replaying this call might have just spooked the Nightstalker instead of luring it in."

The man frowned slightly as he scanned the surrounding darkness and tapped his fingers on his knees. His eyes skimmed right over my location, and my instincts assured me that he hadn't spotted me. All six were wearing a strange, thick vest with wires crisscrossing over it, along with hundreds of small spikes.

Weapons adorned every belt, clearly chosen for zombie attacks. Each one carried a can of mace, a baton, and a dagger. Two had a sword, and one had a spear as well. At least three handguns were present.

They were about as prepared for a fight with a zombie as the average human could get. A large flashlight sat beside each person – all pointing outward in a circle – evidence they had encountered Nightstalkers in the past.

The warning bells in my head were practically a siren. They had somehow recorded my call even though I was at least a couple of miles away from the Stronghold. Not only were they trying to lure a Nightstalker closer – in the forest, in the middle of the night – but they apparently had a recording from another Nightstalker.

"Could it be the zombie from the guest cabin?"

The man with the laptop shook his head. "No, he's a Terror. That Kevin guy wouldn't say much, but he did confirm that. Besides, these calls are only made by Nightstalkers. Nicholas walked by the house and saw him reading a book on the couch through the window, so he's still in the Stronghold."

"Is there a reason we can't approach him? If he was helping spread the cure, he'd probably hear us out."

"You don't mess with Terrors if you can possibly avoid it," the man replied firmly. "Nothing really stops them. I saw a feral once, and I hope to never encounter one again. It took out half the army before someone damaged its head enough to knock it out. One of the women in the back of the truck said that a Stronghold opened fire – yet none of them are injured. And anyone who's allowed to fire a gun nowadays is usually the best shot the place has. That gives me chills right down to my toes since I know how that would have ended."

Well, he's not exactly wrong about the fate of the gunmen...

Another man chipped in, "We still haven't found a sane Runner. Nightstalkers are stronger than us, but not by a terrific amount. They can at least be restrained or contained. Chains won't stop a Terror. I kind of wish that Kevin guy was more willing to talk since he's joining our Stronghold."

"I can't exactly blame him," the man with the laptop muttered. "If a Terror didn't want me gossiping about him, I'd be pretty tight-lipped too. And Kevin said he just caught a ride with them this morning, so he might not know much."

The group fell silent as they watched the forest and the man typing on a remarkably quiet laptop. The keys didn't even click. Hoping they'd talk more, I remained behind the shrub as I tried to figure out what they were up to.

Very few people would ever consider trying to lure a Nightstalker closer, and this group wasn't hiding very well. It was amazing they were still alive. In fact, it was so unusual it had my instincts on edge.

They clearly knew a lot about zombies, but they sat in the dark without worry, even though they were trying to lure a Nightstalker closer. These men weren't stupid, or they would have been dead long ago.

That meant I was missing something. Something that gave them an edge, even if they were ambushed by a Nightstalker in a forest.

They were from the Stronghold we were visiting, which put the rest of my group in a precarious position since they were still inside the fence. Thankfully, they seemed reluctant to even go near Daniel, let alone annoy him, so that was one less worry.

One man made it sound like they just wanted to talk, but another had mentioned chains and restraints should work on a Nightstalker. Were those restraints just for a feral, or would they treat a sane zombie the same way?

I didn't know, and I definitely wasn't about to inquire. With so many weapons present – especially the guns – I wasn't about to stick around and find out. My mind skimmed over several plans I had made for various situations, settling on one that should work very well.

I took a few steps away from the group, avoiding any dry leaves or twigs that might rustle or snap. My instincts stirred in alarm, and I shifted my focus back to the halfway hidden men.

One man's glasses reflected the faint light from his video camera, mostly greens surrounding a dappled orange and red column. And it was pointed right at me.

Then I realized it was an infrared camera.

My teeth bared in a silent snarl as I instantly ducked down and ran off, not caring if a few leaves rustled.

"Wait! Come back! We just want to talk!"

"Did you see it?"

"Yes! It was right over there! It just ran off." His voice was laden with the frustration of knowing he had no chance of catching up to me.

I kept zigzagging as I ran farther away from the Stronghold. My instincts hated fleeing, but they knew it was some sort of trap, and even my instincts had a grudging respect for guns.

My pace slowed to a swift jog that I maintained until I was at least a mile away from the men. Only then did I pause and let a more aggravated version of my proximity call echo through the night. There. Let them try to track me in this direction.

I bared my teeth silently before darting into the underbrush beside me as I circled back to the Stronghold. My return path completely avoided my previous trail and the area the men had been in.

As I neared the Stronghold, my instincts shifted, and I slowed down, only now noticing the faint glow in the sky. I put my sunglasses on and peered through the trees, keeping well away from the edge in case more infrared cameras were around.

The entire perimeter of the fence was lit up.

My lips pulled back in a silent snarl as I glared at the guards, whose numbers had mysteriously doubled in my absence. All of them were on high alert too. Even a rabbit wouldn't get within thirty feet of the fence without being spotted.

It was impossible to sneak back inside. That group must have radioed their friends, and they're making sure the Nightstalker they saw can't infiltrate the Stronghold.

Even if they did turn the lights off, I wouldn't try approaching the fence now that I knew there was at least one infrared camera kicking around.

This was the first time I had encountered infrared cameras. Most fancy technology hadn't survived the collapse or was located inside zombie-infested cities. After nine months, most of the equipment had worn out, gotten soaked, dropped, broken, or lost while the owner tried to escape the never-ending presence of zombies. Some required batteries, and batteries were rare objects nowadays. Rechargeable ones were even rarer.

I guess it doesn't matter how short your fence is when you have this many guards on duty and technology to back them up. And what kind of contraption is that? Those weren't there before.

Instead of just glaring at the guards, I peered at what some of them were standing beside. As a guard scanned the forest, he pivoted one to face the direction he was looking, which finally let me identify it as a large crossbow on a swivel, mounted on the edge of the tower.

Sheesh. Did the people who built this place originally work at Area 51, Fort Knox, or something? I think they need a new hobby.

My eyes drifted to the piles of trees that were – supposedly – destined to become a palisade. I edged closer to the nearest pile, although, as I had noted earlier, the trench in the dirt was the right type to build such a wall. I'm not sure I want to see this new fence once it's completed. If it has as many embellishments as the guard towers do, it might even be capable of containing Nicky on a caffeine high.

I crouched down in the underbrush as I pulled my radio out of my backpack. This one was very similar to the one the guards usually gave me for my patrols, although I hadn't used it yet. I double-checked the volume to ensure it was low. Neither Daniel nor I had problems hearing, and there were a lot of people out there who didn't need to overhear this. He better have that blasted device turned on.

"You guys will be picking me up as you drive. The entire fence is lit up and guarded like a maximum-security prison. They know a Nightstalker is out here, and they know about zombies, so watch yourself."

Daniel's quiet voice came back over the radio. "What happened? Will you be okay out there until we pick you up?"

He was asking if a Nightstalker would be okay in a forest at night? Normally such a question would have been insulting, but this group had technology on their side.

Instead of being snarky, my reply was serious. "There's a group wandering around with infrared cameras. They somehow recorded my proximity call in the middle of the forest, and they knew it was from a Nightstalker, but they're still out here, so something is up. From what I heard, they plan to avoid you, but keep an eye on them. You'll be driving west, right?"

"That was our plan, but we can change it if you want."

"West is fine. I'll wait along the road once the sun rises."

"We'll leave early, before most people wake up. Hopefully no one will notice your absence, and if they do, they'll likely assume you decided to stay like Kevin did. Keep your radio on, and if you need help, contact me."

I wasn't sure what he thought he could do, but I still replied, "Alright."

After one last look at the fence and alert guards, I headed deeper into the underbrush and removed my sunglasses. My instincts were unusually high as they scanned everything around me. I moved slowly through the shadows between the trees, wary of a pitfall trap or any other new trick this war-camp-in-disguise might have hidden out here.

The moonlight reflected off a black wire. I tested the air, but it had been here long enough the human scent had faded. Very cautiously, I went over to investigate.

The wire ran up the side of a tree, and even though my eyes were trying to trace it, it took me some time to spot the tiny solar panel twenty feet up. I crouched down to check where the other end went. On the underside of a large branch, I found a battery pack and a microphone, along with a small box with an antenna sticking out, which I assumed was a transmitter.

No wonder they had been able to record my call from so far away. I must have been near a microphone. There were probably more around as well, and if they were as well hidden as this one, even my keen eyes and sharp instincts might not notice them.

My feet silently carried me away while I scanned the foliage for more such hidden gadgets.

~

       Two hours later, I felt like throttling those men. The forest was littered with microphones in every direction. I even crossed the river to check, and sure enough, there were microphones over there as well.

I didn't see any game cameras or any sort of video recording device, which was a relief. Such devices probably required more power than what a tiny solar panel could provide.

I wasn't sure if the men had originally set up all these microphones to listen for zombies, raiders, or incoming travelers, but at this moment, it was a moot point because the little devices were out here with me and eagerly listening for any sound I might make.

The crunching of leaves had me ducking behind a tree and crouching down. The scent of the six men drifted on the air, muted by whatever hunting spray they were using. They walked along a deer trail without stumbling even though they were just relying on the faint moonlight and one infrared camera. Their voices were soft and disappointed.

"None of the mics are picking anything up. Just the usual crickets and stuff."

"Those Nightstalkers never make much noise. We noticed that last time. Just listen to the recording; there was complete silence until the call, then silence again. You never hear anything from them except when they want to be heard."

Another man sighed. "This means it's probably long gone. It'll be months before another one passes through."

"I know. This one was sane too. You can't work with ferals or even talk to them."

"Could the Nightstalker have come closer because the Terror was here?"

"Possibly. It would be a pretty big coincidence if the Nightstalker just happened to pass through while a Terror was visiting."

"It was quite a ways out. I'm surprised it didn't go closer to the Stronghold if it wanted the Terror to hear that call."

"It might have been worried about the Terror taking exception to its presence and going after it. That call was loud enough he probably heard it inside the fence. They're supposed to have super keen hearing."

"Was there any sort of response or reaction from him?"

"Not that anyone can recall seeing, but we weren't expecting it, so we weren't watching. Other than the sentries, everyone was in bed."

"I kind of wish we could approach Nina, but the few times she left the cabin, the Terror was always nearby, and I'm not going near him. Those things scare me." He exhaled in frustration. "Sane zombies have a low tolerance for ferals, especially ones of lower ranks, so he'd probably kill Richard. We might be able to restrain the Nightstalker if it tried to hurt him, but we don't stand a chance with a Terror."

"They gave a few vials of the cure to the doctor, but it doesn't work on ferals, so we're back to square one."

"I really don't want to leave him locked up in that barn forever..."

"We'll figure something out. We can send a letter to Ironwind and see if we get a response. That might be the safest option."

"As much as I want to ask this group if they can help while they're here, I don't want to take the chance. Not when the Terror could easily harm or kill him."

"We have time," the other man reassured him. "He never touched a human, and zombies can't starve to death, so there's always hope."

"I refuse to give up. My brother stood by my side all these years, so it's my turn to return the favor."

"We're with you, even if I have to drive that letter to Ironwind myself."

Once they were too far away for me to hear their footsteps, I silently walked out from behind the tree and gazed thoughtfully in the direction they had gone.