The shutters dropped; Jack and Isabelle stepped out into the hallway amid a mob of snarling men. Without hesitation, they charged, roaring and screaming as their faces contorted from fear to joy to terror. Jack faced the crowd to their left, raising a fire extinguisher over her head and bringing it down with all her might. It smashed a man’s skull, dropping him like a bad habit.

Hoisting it up again, she thrust with the nozzle end forward, running into another man’s face and breaking several of his teeth and nose. They clattered like marbles on the floor. He crumpled backwards, taking others with him in a sprawling mass of limbs. Jack continued the assault, battering people away as quickly as they approached. For Isabelle's side, she spun Jack’s massive iron piece and fired a round with both her hands firmly on the handle. It struck true, blowing through three with one bullet.

“Clear me a path!” Jack roared, smashing another head in with her improvised club.

“On it!” Dash said, squeezing off two more rounds and parting the waters for a least a moment, straight to the large blade embedded in the wall. Jack ran forward, stepping over the bodies on the ground and pushing the mob away with a shove of the extinguisher in her hands, then throwing the object into the crowd, bowling the front line over. She took what precious seconds she had and grabbed the sword’s handle. Planting a foot against the wall, she pulled until she could feel every fiber of her muscles screaming at her in aching protest. With a groan of stressed stone, the blade came free.

Jack didn't have much time to celebrate--the group had risen and were charging straight for her. She pulled her weapon back and brought it down at an angle, cleaving through two of the feral men, then another on the back swing, showering the hallway with blood.

“Shit,” she said under her breath, briefly dazed at the spectacle she created. A shot near her ear brought her head back in the game as a body crumpled to the ground nearby.

“Haul ass!” Dash ordered. Jack didn't need to be told twice, using the large flat of the blade to shove assailants aside as she rejoined the others.

Isabelle turned around, squeezing off the last shot of Jack’s piece and decimating the crowd of savages to their right. She pulled out her nine and fired off another shot, then another, clearing a path for Pip to get a running start.

Inside they had found a trolley for transporting the artifacts. Piling it with all the loot they could, coiled down tightly with ropes that had marked individual exhibits, had made it into a heavy, solid battering ram--especially at speed. He sucked in a breath as he pushed, shoving bodies both living and dead out of his way. A few lingering hands grabbed for him, but he was well shielded between his size and the bulk in front of him. Pip ran in a blind panic.

As he passed, a few of the men turned and began to sprint towards him. Dash fired off another shot, drawing their attention back to Jack and Isabelle as he rounded the corner, roughly slamming into the wall. The thing could handle straightaways at a good click, but corners would slow him down.

“Get back, you motherfuckers!” Dash shouted, pistol whipping one nearby and kicking another that lunged for her. They grabbed her arms and tried to pull her forward. She struggled, trying to shake her assailants off. Bloody teeth filled the air with painful clicks as they chomped closer and closer to her face. “Stetson!”

Jack instantly snapped around at Dash’s voice. The tall woman brought the heavy blade back to her shoulder. “Drop down!”

Isabelle instantly let herself collapse to the ground, pulling one of the feral men with her just as Jack swung once more, tearing asunder the crowd in one nightmarish swipe that left her stuck in the last man. She pulled loose as Dash wrestled with the man on top of her. Ignoring the fate of his comrades, he snarled and stretched his mouth so far as to rip his cheeks open, desperately trying to reach her jugular. Isabelle jerked both their bodies up, giving her just enough space to lift a foot and place it against his chest. With a shove, she threw him off of her, flipping him up and over to land in a bone crunching crash on the floor. She quickly rose as Jack turned back to the crowd behind them, warding them off with a few slow swings. The farmer was getting tired, Isabelle could tell just from listening to the breathing at her back. It wouldn't be long until she ran out of gas.

Though they had dispatched several, Dash noticed with horror that many who seemed down for the count were getting back up. Entire missing limbs were ignored; wide gashes that let their entrails fall or showed white bone had little effect. The madness--the hunger--in them was too great for anything less than instant death to stop the attack.

“Run for it!” Dash shouted, turning and spending the last of her rounds into the crowd randomly. Jack shouldered the blade and did just that, matching Isabelle stride for stride as they ran through the few remaining stragglers ahead of them. The farmer grabbed one by the skull and threw him to the side to smash headfirst against the wall. A few tugged at her suit, but she broke free with a few weary shakes of her shoulders and haunches. Isabelle whipped and ducked through the men still around; she twisted, narrowly dodging a grab.

Dash just a bit ahead, they got through with little more than torn clothing and skin deep scratches, quickly rounding the corner and blindly sprinting for the double doors leading into the restoration room. They charged through them. Pip, who had been waiting, threw closed one door as Dash grabbed the other. Jack turned around and threw her weight against the doors just in time to stop them opening from the crazed guards on the other side.

“Brace it!” Jack ordered. Dash glanced about in a panic for something to hold the door. There, next to the trolley-ram, was a large table it had overturned.

“Pip!” Isabelle called out, moving towards the overturned object. “Help me with this!”

The young man pushed the trolley away, shoving various items to the side, and grabbed an end. They strained and grunted, finally placing it near the door. Jack quickly threw herself off and shoved it in place just as the crowd began throwing their bodies against the metal door again.

“Suppose the bastard’ll hold?” Pip said, wiping at his brow.

“Fingers crossed. It should at least give us some time,” Dash answered. She spared a glance over at the two men they had tied up earlier. Judging by their confused, fearful expressions, they weren't like the others. “For their sake's, we gotta hope it does.”

“Take the sword,” Jack ordered, handing off the blade to Isabelle. The athlete let out a loud grunt when it came into contact with her hands and nearly dropped the weighty piece.

"Holy shit, Stetson. I knew you were strong, but fucking damn!"

The farmer ignored her, hoisting one man over each shoulder. The one on her left squirmed in protest.

“Cut that shit out. I could jus’ leave ya here and, trust me, ya ain’t wantin’ ta see what’s behind that door,” Jack warned. The one quickly stopped his struggling, going limp on her shoulders.

“We’ll put ‘em outside, make sure we get the door nice an’ locked up. With a little time, we can make sure those things'll never make it through."

Nodding her agreement, Jack said, "Pip, get the stuff. Don't rocket out of here or nothin', but let's not keep the outside waitin'."

"Right you are, guv," he replied, moving the trolley back towards the exit.

They quickly marched on, each trying their best to ignore the heavy pounding on the door behind them. Their pace quickened as they detected the faint sounds of splintering wood.

The group finally came to the lobby. The man they had captured earlier had kept his word and was still laying on his stomach, shivering as he heard their heavy footsteps approach.

“Get up and get out!” Jack barked, barely sparing him a glance as she marched towards the door.

“A-alright,” he stammered out, rising to his knees and taking a few breaths to calm himself. Isabelle paused, letting Pip go past her with the payload.

“You heard her, motherfucker! Move!” She gestured for the door with her free hand.

They stepped outside into the biting night air. Unceremoniously tossing the two men to the ground, Jack ran to the van as Isabelle held the empty gun towards them, the sword limply hanging from her free hand.

The vehicle revved to life. Dash took a few steps and gestured to Pip, never letting the gun waiver.

“Start unloadin' them in there,” she announced. Pip swallowed, then nodded. Opening the back doors he started unloading the overburdened trolley. Smirking when an idea hit her, Dash pointed at the three guards. "You three," she said, pointing a thumb. "Help him out."

With the guards help, it didn't take long to move the boxes of jewelry, pieces of fine art, old weapons, and all the other various items worth more than most people would make it a year securely into the van. Jack and Dash watched, examining the pile of loot they had all risked their lives over. When it was finished, Pip walked over to Isabelle and threw a smart salute.

"Loaded and ready," he said.

Giving Jack a quick look, she made a snap decision and tilted her head towards the van. “Get in back.” With a strained grunt, she lifted the sword and laid it inside. When Pip hadn't moved, she growled, "I meant now--we don't got all night!" With a jump, he did as ordered, a confused look on his face. Jack shook her head, amused, as she went to the driver's side door and got in.

Slamming the back doors, the athlete idly waved her gun back at the guards. “Lil’ fucker’s coming with us. You’re gonna give us a half-hour head start before you call the cops--if you don’t, I’m blowing his Goddamn brains out.” She gazed evenly at them, giving one of her best grins. “And then I’m hunting you and your families down, one at a time. I’ll let you guess what I’ll do to ‘em.”

Without another sound, she whipped around and went to the passenger's seat as Jack shifted to drive, peeling out and onto the lonely road.

Jack drove aimlessly for a few minutes, obviously distracted. Pip moved towards the van’s front.

“What about me?” he quietly asked.

“Relax, pipsqueak,” Dash said. “We don’t even have the bullets to kill you. It was a total bluff.”

“I-I mean after this. I’m bound to be labeled as a coward at best, or a traitor at worst.”

Isabelle and her partner shared a glance. After a long, drawn-out silence, Jack decided on a course of action. “Ya got an option, Pip.”

She pulled off the road into an empty lot and parked the van, but kept the engine running.

“Hop outside, Pip. Bolt, I’ma be jus’ a second.” Jack threw open her door and stood by the side of the van. Pip quickly crawled over the loot, opening the back doors. In a few seconds he was standing, back straight, in front of Jack.

She rubbed at her chin, staring at the boy. His stance was even, and his face flat. Anyone else might've said he looked unafraid. But Jack could see the flick of nervousness at his eyes, and the way his fingers kept rubbing against each other. She had to be careful. If she said the wrong thing, he'd take off like a shot. And that would do the kid no favors.

“Bein’ labeled a coward or a traitor ain’t too bad, sug. Not when it’s comin’ from a bunch’a snakes, anyway. What matters is doin’ the right thing in all of this mess.” The giant woman crouched, putting herself at eye level with the boy. “It’s up ta you on decidin’ what the right thing is, ya hear? It’s why I’m givin’ ya an opportunity. Up ta you on takin’ it. You can jus’ walk away an’ you’ll never hear ‘bout it again, or...” She looked down at her hands, then back up at the boy. “Or you can head ta Mansfield, back ta yer family.”

“Me mum and pop?” he replied. “How’d--”

She spoke over him. “Ya keep an eye on ‘em. They’re good, honest folk. But there’s more ta what I want ya ta do... I want ya ta keep an’ ear out--ya hearin’ me, Pip?”

“Listen for what?” he asked, biting at his lip.

“Unease. Rumors. People not happy with the way this country’s headin’. Ya listen, an’ ya...ya give a bit of a poke to the fire, understand?”

“Rile the lot up? Why?”

“Get ‘em angry, get ‘em mad. Get ‘em...thinkin’ that maybe the women wearin’ masks might have the right idea in this whole mess.” She scowled, the words bitter on her lips. “We get enough people on our side, an’ there ain’t nothin’ that can’t be done. Jus’ gotta pull a few strings.” She held out her hand gently towards the boy, doing her best to keep him at ease. “What ya say, kid? Are ya in?”

He rubbed at his face, then stared at her open palm. “H... how can I trust you? What if this is a trick?”

“Savin’ yer life earlier not enough?”

“I...” He swallowed, trembling.

“I know it’s scary. It’s still scary an’ impossible ta me too. But...” Jack reached up hesitantly to her mask. Counting down from three, she slowly peeled it off of her, revealing her sweat-soaked face and her long hair sticking to her forehead. He nearly recoiled in shock at her appearance. “I trust ya, Pip. Can ya do the same fer me?”

“Yer Alice’s...”

“Eyup,” she agreed. “An’ a gal that does her damndest ta keep her word.” She look at her feet for a second, then back to his eyes. “I swear this ain’t no trick, Pip. I swear on my Granny’s grave it ain’t.” She swallowed, rising from her crouch and donning her mask again. “Will ya help us?”

There was another long pause. He stared up at her, silent for five seconds, ten, twenty. Finally, he closed his eyes and nodded. “Just keep up appearances at the home and give the residents a right poke if I see a chance, that the word, guv?”