Screening Intensifies

The compound was silent for a beat that felt too long. Tamsin's voice sliced through the hush, cold and suspicious. "Right. And how do we know you're not one of them? Pretending to be injured, to feed them intel?"

A ripple of agreement or at least consideration murmured through the crowd. Tamsin had voiced what everyone was thinking. The tension in the air turned suffocating.

Leila breathed in deeply, forcing a measure of composure into her posture. "We have screening procedures," she said aloud. "We'll follow them. If you're here in good faith, you'll pass. If not…"

She let the implication hang in the air, her tone leaving no doubt about the consequences.

The gates creaked open just enough to admit the five newcomers one by one, under the watchful aim of half a dozen rifles. Each traveler raised their arms, showing empty hands, letting the guards pat them down for hidden weapons. Harriet had a small hunting knife strapped to her thigh, but nothing else. The others surrendered meager supplies—a battered canteen, a chipped survival knife, a homemade slingshot.

When the slight young man stepped forward, he winced as Mark carefully inspected the bandaged wound on his shoulder. It looked clean, if hastily dressed, and Mark grunted an acknowledgment that it was likely legitimate. No obvious trick or hidden blade beneath the wraps.

Tamsin stood to the side, arms folded, her expression an etched mask of distrust. She exchanged a glance with one of her supporters, a wiry man named Nolan, who nodded grimly as if affirming her unspoken suspicions. We can't trust them. They might be spies. The tension was palpable; any misstep, any flinch from the newcomers, might spark a lethal chain reaction.

Leila gestured toward a small warehouse near the compound's eastern wall. "We'll do the full screening in there."

The five travelers shuffled inside, the large metal doors sliding shut behind them with a groan. Lanterns hung from hooks along the walls, their glow illuminating shelves stacked with spare materials—tarps, wood planks, coils of rope. A cleared area at the center served as a makeshift interrogation space. Harriet and her group settled onto crates, exhaustion etched into every line of their bodies.

Leila, Mark, and Fiona stood facing them, rifles at hand but not raised. Tamsin lingered near the entrance, eyes narrowed. Darren hovered close behind her, arms crossed, tension riding his shoulders.

One by one, the newcomers introduced themselves properly: Harriet, the apparent leader of this ragtag bunch; Jonas, a quiet, broad-shouldered man who rarely spoke more than a sentence at a time; a middle-aged couple named Mira and Cole, who clung to each other protectively; and finally, the young man with the bandaged shoulder—Rael.

"We don't want trouble," Harriet said, her voice cracking with fatigue. "We just… we've been running for so long. Every camp we've come across either turned us away or was destroyed not long after by these raiders."

Fiona listened carefully, occasionally nodding as she jotted notes on a clipboard. She'd volunteered as a sort of humanitarian voice in these screenings. Meanwhile, Tamsin huffed, rolling her eyes at Harriet's pleas. Leila caught it, but held her tongue. This was no time to undermine her own people in front of potential new arrivals.

Rael clutched his wounded shoulder, glancing up at Leila as if mustering courage. "I heard them talking… about expansions, about how Jace wants to unite or crush every settlement within a week's travel." His voice wavered. "He has a real plan. This isn't random raiding."

A hush fell over the group. Harriet placed a hand on Rael's uninjured arm, as if to steady him. He shivered, perhaps from pain or from the memory of what he'd seen.

Mark exchanged a glance with Darren. Their expressions said the same thing: We need this intel. Even Tamsin, for all her hostility, seemed uneasy at the mention of Jace's coordinated strategy.

Leila's voice was measured but carried an edge of urgency. "What else do you know about their operations?"

Rael swallowed hard. "They move in cells, each led by someone fiercely loyal to Jace. Ellie… she's the strategist, the one who decides which settlements to hit first. They try to recruit—force survivors to join them. If you refuse…" His face paled. "It's bad."

Tamsin's skepticism flared again. "So you conveniently show up here with all this inside info, wanting us to believe you're not one of them."

Harriet bristled, but Leila raised a hand to calm the situation. "Let's not jump to conclusions." She turned back to Rael, her gaze intense. "We appreciate the info, but we need time to verify."

Rael nodded, biting his lip. "I understand."

Outside, the compound buzzed with the news that five new wanderers had arrived, one claiming knowledge of Jace's band's tactics. Tamsin's faction, fueled by their worst fears, muttered about infiltration. Fiona tried to mediate, gently reminding them of the old code of survival: Sometimes you needed to take chances on strangers, or risk withering away alone.

Leila convened a short meeting with Mark, Darren, Kai, and Tamsin. They gathered in the old armory, where the walls were lined with scavenged weaponry and ammo crates. The scent of oil and metal hung in the air, merging with the tension thickening the space.

"They claim to know Jace's operations," Leila said, leaning against a battered wooden table. "Could be extremely valuable intel, or complete bullshit."

Mark nodded, arms crossed. "If they're lying, we risk letting a spy into our midst."

Tamsin snorted. "I've seen this play before. They feed us half-truths, we open the gates, and next thing you know, Jace walks right in."

Kai glowered at Tamsin's negativity but kept his tone even. "We do the test period, like we've done before. Keep them under supervision. Interrogate them in shifts. If they're legitimate, we gain an asset. If not…" He let the words hang ominously.

Leila nodded. "Exactly. We run them through our screening. They stay in designated quarters, guarded, until they've proven themselves."

Tamsin pressed her lips into a thin line but couldn't argue. Fiona, stepping in from the corridor, gave a slight nod of approval. "We can't afford to turn away potential allies, especially if they have real intel on Jace."

Tamsin grumbled, "We also can't afford infiltration."

Leila closed her eyes briefly, exhaling as she forced calm into her voice. "We're all aware of the risks. But if what Rael says is true, Jace is about to escalate. We need every edge we can get."

After a fraught silence, Tamsin relented with a small shrug, though her posture screamed reluctance. "Fine. But if this bites us in the ass, I hope you know how to handle the fallout."

Leila offered a curt nod. "I do."

And with that, the decision was made.