Chapter 36 : Attack or Defense ?

The aftermath of the battle was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that felt heavy with exhaustion and tension. The ruffians had been driven off, but the station's yard was littered with their fallen, as well as the bodies of walkers drawn by the chaos. The air was thick with the acrid stench of gunpowder, blood, and decay.

Marcus stood on the steps of the station, his eyes scanning the scene with a grim expression. His gaze landed on the group of four approaching him—Kate, Chris, Daniels, and Morrison. Their conditions spoke volumes about the fight they had endured.

Kate and Chris were the worst off, their clothes caked with blood and grime. Chris had a streak of dried blood down his neck from a shallow cut, and Kate's arms were scratched and bruised from her run-ins with the walkers. Morrison looked no better, his crowbar still streaked with gore. Daniels, though less bloodied, was covered in a fine layer of dust from his rooftop perch, his face smudged with soot.

Marcus's stern expression softened as they drew closer. He stepped forward, nodding solemnly. "You four… I don't even know where to start. Thank you. You've probably saved us all tonight."

Kate, always uncomfortable with praise, shrugged it off. "Just doing what needed to be done."

Chris smirked tiredly. "Yeah, well, next time, I'd appreciate a little less 'nearly dying.'"

Daniels clapped Chris on the shoulder, her dry humor cutting through the heaviness. "Wouldn't be fun otherwise."

Morrison gave Marcus a weary smile. "We couldn't have done it without the people inside holding strong. They stuck to the plan."

Marcus's lips pressed into a thin line, his gratitude unspoken but clear in his eyes. "Let's get to my office. We need to talk about what happens next. The rest of you—" he gestured toward a small group of survivors standing near the station entrance "—start clearing the bodies. The last thing we need is more walkers sniffing around."

The four nodded and followed Marcus inside, the weight of the battle still heavy on their shoulders.

As they made their way down the hall, Morrison's sharp eyes caught sight of Lucas sitting on the floor near the kitchen. The boy was holding the bat he'd carried earlier, his hands still trembling slightly despite the calm that had returned to the station.

"Hey, kid," Morrison called, his tone softer than usual. Lucas looked up, his eyes widening at the sight of the older man.

"You did good," Morrison said, offering the boy a rare smile. "Not everyone could've handled what you did down there. You kept your head. Marcus would be proud."

Lucas blinked, surprised by the praise, then managed a small smile of his own. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Kate, who had been walking ahead, paused to look back. Her expression softened as she watched Lucas stand a little straighter under Morrison's words. The kid had been through so much already, but moments like this reminded her that he still had hope. She gave Lucas a quick nod before continuing down the hall.

Inside Marcus's office, the atmosphere was tense but focused. The small space was cluttered with maps, notes, and supplies, a stark reminder of the life they now lived. Marcus gestured for everyone to take a seat, though Daniels opted to stand near the window, his sharp eyes scanning the dark yard outside.

"All right," Marcus began, leaning against his desk. "I want a full report. What happened out there?"

Daniels was the first to speak. "The ruffians came in strong, but they weren't organized. They underestimated us. Between the walkers and our counterattack, we thinned their numbers, but a few got away."

Marcus nodded, then turned to Kate. "How many, do you think?"

Kate shrugged, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at a sore muscle. "It's hard to say. Maybe six, seven? They were already scattered by the time we finished up."

Chris added, "We didn't get a good look at the ones who ran, but they were heading west. If they regroup, they'll come back with a vengeance. You can bet on that."

Marcus crossed his arms, his expression grim. "That's what I'm afraid of. We've bought ourselves some time, but not much. If they come back while we're still licking our wounds..."

Daniels cut in, his voice firm. "Then we don't give them the chance. We take the fight to them. Track them down and finish this."

Kate frowned, her brow furrowing. "That's risky. We don't know their full numbers, and if we're caught off guard, we'll be out in the open. I say we focus on fortifying the station. Let them come to us. We've proven we can hold our own here."

The room fell silent as everyone considered the options. Daniels's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. Morrison spoke up next, his tone measured. "Both plans have merit, but we need to think about the people inside. We can't leave them vulnerable."

Marcus rubbed a hand over his face, the weight of leadership evident in his every movement. "Let's gather everyone and put it to a vote. This decision affects all of us."

The survivors gathered in the station's dimly lit common room, the low hum of lanterns casting elongated shadows on the walls. Tension hung thick in the air, the weight of the day's battle and the threat of the ruffians still pressing heavily on everyone. The room buzzed with murmurs as the group shuffled into place.

Marcus stood at the front, his tall frame and authoritative demeanor demanding silence. He leaned over a table where a crudely drawn map of the surrounding area lay pinned under rocks and scraps of metal. He tapped the map with two fingers, bringing everyone's attention to it.

"We have a decision to make," Marcus began, his voice even but firm. "Today was too close for comfort. The ruffians know where we are now, and they're not going to just give up. If we sit here and wait, we're giving them the chance to regroup, plan, and come at us harder. But if we strike first—hit them before they're ready—we might stand a chance of ending this for good."

The room fell silent, the gravity of his words sinking in. He scanned the faces around him, his gaze lingering on Kate, Chris, Morrison, and Daniels—the group who had just returned from the thick of the fight. They looked exhausted but resolute, their bloodied and dirt-streaked appearances a testament to the kind of battle they'd faced.

Marcus continued, "There are two options on the table. One: we fortify the station, prepare for another attack, and hope we can outlast them. Two: we launch a preemptive strike before dawn, catch them off guard, and eliminate the threat before it can grow."

Daniels, standing near the window with his arms crossed, was the first to speak. "We can't sit around and wait. They know where we are, and they'll come back stronger. We take the fight to them."

Kate frowned, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. " We don't know how many of them are left or what kind of setup they have. Rushing in could get us killed—or worse, leave the station defenseless."

Daniels shot her a sharp look. "You'd rather sit here and let them come to us? How many more people have to die before we do something?"

Kate held his gaze, her voice calm but firm. "I'm not saying we do nothing. I'm saying we don't rush in blind. If they're regrouping, we have time to prepare. Fortifying the station doesn't mean we're giving up—it means we're playing it smart."

Chris chimed in, his tone conciliatory. "Both of you have a point. But we also have to think about the people here—Lucas, Mia, everyone who can't fight. If we leave them vulnerable, it doesn't matter how many ruffians we take out."

Morrison, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. "There's another factor. The longer we wait, the more time they have to build their numbers or call for reinforcements. I'm not saying we go in guns blazing, but we can't afford to let them regroup either."

The room buzzed with murmurs again as the group processed the arguments. Finally, Marcus raised a hand, silencing the discussion.

"Enough," he said firmly. "We'll put it to a vote. But before we do, I need everyone to understand this: whatever we decide, we're in this together. There's no room for second-guessing once we make our move.