[33] The plan

As the sun climbed over the Nevada horizon, the group sat clustered around the dusty bus at the edge of the small, deserted town. Morgan stood in front of them, her arms crossed, staring down the group with a hard look as she mapped out the day's plan.

"Alright, listen up," Morgan began, her voice low and commanding. "We need a tire, and this place might have one if there's still an auto shop intact. Our goal is to get in, grab what we need, and get out. Don't waste time, don't wander off, and for fuck's sake, don't try to be a hero. There's no backup here—just us."

She paused, scanning each of them with her icy blue eyes. "If we're lucky, we'll only deal with zombies. If we're not… well, let's hope it's just zombies."

The group exchanged uneasy glances. Jean swallowed hard, clutching the AK-47 strapped across his chest. Evan pumped his shotgun, clearly trying to look more confident than he felt, while Chloe shifted on her feet, inspecting the grip on her Sig Sauer with a reluctant frown.

Morgan pointed to the town map she had spread out on the ground. "The auto shop is a block and a half from here, right down Main Street. That's our primary target. We go in groups, cover all sides, and keep our heads on a swivel."

"Can't we just, like, rush in and rush out?" Chloe muttered, rolling her eyes. "I'm not here to play Call of Duty with a bunch of zombies."

"Then don't," Morgan snapped back. "If you can't follow orders, stay here. I don't need anyone slowing us down."

Brittney let out a scoff, crossing her arms. "Maybe some of us are actually serious about not getting killed today, unlike others." She shot Chloe a glare, flicking her pink hair over her shoulder.

Morgan raised her hand, silencing them before the argument could flare up. "Enough. We don't have time for drama. Everyone get your gear ready. Let's go over what you've got."

Jean stepped forward first, lifting his AK-47 with a slightly shaky grip. "I'm good, Morgan," he said, his voice firming as he met her gaze. "Safety's on, loaded, just like you showed me."

"Good," Morgan replied, giving him a nod. "You're up front with me. Keep your eyes sharp and don't fire unless you're sure."

Evan grinned, holding up his Remington 870 shotgun. He pumped it once, clearly enjoying the weight of the weapon in his hands. "Ready to blast anything that moves," he said, his voice barely hiding his excitement.

Morgan gave him a hard look. "That thing kicks hard, Evan. Aim right, and don't waste ammo."

Luca shuffled forward, holding his Glock 19 with both hands. He swallowed, glancing nervously at Morgan. "Uh, yeah, I got the Glock," he mumbled. "Hope I don't, like, accidentally shoot my foot or something."

Morgan gave him a reassuring nod. "You'll be fine. Stick with Evan and keep your finger off the trigger unless you're ready to shoot."

Brad strutted up next, flashing a cocky grin as he held his Desert Eagle with one hand, the heavy gun looking almost ridiculous in his grip. "The big guy's here. Ain't nobody getting past us with this bad boy, right?"

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Try not to blow your hand off, tough guy. That thing's got more recoil than you think. Aim carefully, or you're more of a liability than an asset."

Jordan sauntered up, twirling his Smith & Wesson revolver with a grin. "Dead-eye Jordan, ready for action," he said, striking a ridiculous pose. "Can't wait to go all Wild West on some zombie ass."

"Keep it serious, Jordan," Morgan said flatly. "Cover Brad on the right side, and don't get cocky. You make a mistake, and someone else pays for it."

Brittney stepped forward, her Beretta held confidently at her side. She shot Morgan a sharp nod. "I'm good. Ready to go, and ready to keep the deadweight in line." She flicked her gaze toward Chloe and Blake, who looked less certain.

Morgan's lips quirked in a slight smirk. "Good. Stick close to them and make sure they don't fall behind."

Chloe sighed, reluctantly holding her Sig Sauer P238 like it was some mildly inconvenient accessory. "If this thing messes up my nails, I'm holding you responsible, Morgan."

Morgan gave her a hard look. "Mess up your nails and live, or keep them pristine and die. Your choice."

Chloe rolled her eyes but tightened her grip on the gun, muttering something under her breath. Next to her, Blake clutched his .22 pistol with visible discomfort, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Tyler looked at his UZI with a wicked grin.

"I'll… I'll do my best," Blake said, though his voice wavered. "I'll stay in the middle, try to stay out of everyone's way."

Morgan's gaze softened slightly, but her tone stayed firm. "You're here to help, Blake, not just hide. Keep your eyes open and listen to Brittney. She'll make sure you don't get yourself killed."

Ms. Heather was next, holding a small .38 revolver with a steady hand. "I'll stay at the back, watch our six. Just tell me where to go," she said, her voice calm and confident.

"Perfect," Morgan replied. "Stay at the rear and make sure nothing sneaks up on us. I trust you to keep everyone moving."

Finally, Akira held up a hunting knife, her fingers wrapped tightly around the handle. She gave Jean a shy smile. "I'll stay close to you, Jean," she said softly. "I can help… however you need."

Morgan looked at her knife and nodded. "Good. If anything gets too close, use that. Otherwise, stay close to Jean and cover him."

Everyone turned toward Trev, who held a basic 9mm handgun. He looked more nervous than anyone else. "So… I'm, uh, guarding the bus, right?" he asked, glancing around like he'd prefer to be anywhere else.

Morgan gave him a short nod. "Yeah. You and Tyler keep the bus safe. If anything comes near it, you shoot. No hesitation."

Trev swallowed, nodding quickly. "Got it. No problem."

"Yes ma'am." Tyler gave a mock salute.

Morgan stepped back, looking at the group, her gaze hardening. "Alright, now that everyone's armed, here's the plan. We move in formation: Jean and I are up front, Evan and Luca cover the left side, Brad and Jordan take the right, and Brittney, Chloe, and Blake stay in the middle."

She pointed to the map on the ground, tracing a line down Main Street to the auto shop. "We take the main route to the shop. It's risky, but it's the fastest way in. We don't have time to waste sneaking around, and we don't want to get trapped in some back alley."

Luca looked around nervously. "Uh, so what do we do if we run into, like, more than just zombies?"

"Shoot first, questions later," Evan said, grinning as he pumped his shotgun again.

Morgan held up a hand, cutting him off. "We're not here to start a fight. If we run into anyone, keep your weapons ready, but don't fire unless you have to. Last thing we need is to piss off some armed gang out here."

Chloe rolled her eyes, muttering to Brittney. "I swear, if some bandit tries to mess up my hair, they're getting a bullet to the face."

Brittney raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Maybe worry more about not dying than your hair, Chloe."

"Both of you focus," Morgan snapped, her tone sharp. "We don't have time for this petty crap. The plan is simple: get in, grab what we need, and get out. Anyone who deviates from the plan gets left behind."

A tense silence fell over the group. They all knew Morgan wasn't kidding.

Ms. Heather adjusted her grip on her revolver, giving them a firm nod. "Stay close, and no one will be left behind. We're in this together."

Morgan glanced at her, nodding in agreement. "Exactly. We're a team, and we all walk out of here together. But that only happens if everyone does their job."

Jordan gave a mock salute. "Aye, aye, captain," he said, though his voice held a nervous edge.

"Cut the jokes, Jordan," Brad muttered. "We need you actually paying attention, not cracking jokes."

Jean tightened his grip on his AK-47, taking a deep breath. "I'm ready," he said, trying to hide the slight tremor in his voice.

Evan gave him a nod. "Same, man. We got this. Just gotta, you know, keep our cool."

Morgan looked at each of them, her expression hardening. "Remember, if you see anything moving, call it out. Don't take risks, don't be a hero, and don't draw attention. We're in and out, no unnecessary bullshit. Got it?"

A murmur of agreement went up from the group, each of them standing a little straighter, tightening their grips on their weapons.

She nodded. "Good. Let's move out."

With a last look at each other, they began to move, stepping carefully as they left the bus behind, Trev watching them from his post, the barrel of his 9mm trembling slightly in his hands. The group followed Morgan as she led them toward the empty, quiet streets, their steps careful, their breaths slow and measured. It was a risky plan, but it was the only one they had. And in a world like this, risks were all they had left.

As they ventured into the town, each of them couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning.

Q: What position would you prefer to be in this situation?