New Security Measures

Leila stood in the courtyard near a makeshift table cluttered with wires, rusted batteries, and half-assembled electronics. A small group had gathered: Darren, Mark, a few orchard workers adept at tinkering, and two watchers from Tamsin's faction. The donkey rummaged by a feed trough off to the side, occasionally letting out a snort of disinterest.

"Alright," Darren began, squinting at a hastily scribbled blueprint. "We've scavenged enough spare wires, circuit boards, and sensors from that old electronics shop Harriet's group helped us find. If we rig them properly, we can set up an alarm system along our perimeter fence—tripwires connected to a basic circuit that triggers a bell or a light when something crosses it."

Mark nodded, eyebrows raised with excitement. "That'd give watchers an edge if Jace's band tries another stealth attack or if undead slip in."

One orchard worker, rummaging through the wires, added, "We could place these sensors near the farmland edges too, not just the orchard fence. Extra caution never hurts."

Leila surveyed the blueprint, arms folded. "Do you think you can get it operational soon?"

Darren exchanged a confident glance with Mark. "The basics, yes. We can't wire the entire settlement at once, but we'll start with key points—gates, watchtower approaches, farmland corners. If the system detects movement, it'll sound a clanging alarm or flash a small light near watchers."

Leila dipped her head in approval. "Do it. We can't underestimate infiltration or another raid." She paused, scanning each face to ensure they grasped the seriousness of it. "We survived one siege. But Jace and Ellie aren't gone for good."

A hush fell. Even Tamsin's watchers nodded grimly, recalling the brutality of the siege. Mark exhaled, glancing at the donkey as if for reassurance. "Alright. Let's get started."

Throughout the morning, Darren and a handful of orchard staff lugged wooden crates of salvaged electronics to strategic points along the orchard's perimeter. Tamsin's watchers provided security and an extra set of hands, though they kept a wary eye on Harriet's group, who also volunteered to help. The orchard donkey carried spools of wire and small metal rods used as improvised stakes.

They split into teams:

Team A: Focused on the orchard's main gates and fence lines.

Team B: Headed to farmland boundaries, near the repaired fences that had been trampled by undead.

Team C: Tended watchtower approaches, ensuring any infiltration attempt there would trip an alarm.

Leila joined Team A, pacing along the orchard fence as orchard staff hammered stakes for the wires. Darren crouched by a half-buried post, hooking circuit boards to a salvaged car battery. "If any tension disturbs these wires," he explained, "the circuit completes, sending a low-voltage signal to ring a bell inside the orchard or light a small lamp we rigged up. We'll test them at dusk."

Tamsin's watchers hovered, rifles resting casually but eyes flicking at every clang of metal. Harriet's group, led by Jonas, assisted orchard workers in burying the wires so they wouldn't be obvious. Together, they formed an unlikely coalition, each mindful that infiltration could come from any corner. Yet so far, no suspicious moves appeared.

Leila knelt to inspect the wiring as Darren set it in place. The donkey stood nearby, orchard staff offering it gentle pats whenever it snorted. She felt a surge of appreciation for how far they'd come—the orchard settlement battered but unbroken, forging new defenses.

By midday, the skeleton of the alarm system was in place. Wires ran discreetly along the fence and farmland edges, connecting to a central circuit in a small shed near the orchard's main gate. Tamsin's watchers set up a vantage point, re-checking ammunition and discussing infiltration scenarios. Harriet's group refilled the donkey's water, orchard staff hammered the last stakes.

Darren motioned for everyone to gather in the courtyard for a demonstration. He stood by a rough wooden table covered in electronics, a small bell perched on top. "We'll do a mock infiltration drill," he announced. "One group sneaks toward the orchard fence, triggers the tripwire, and we see if the bell sounds."

Leila nodded, scanning the orchard watchers. "Alright, watchers—eyes sharp. This is a test, but treat it as real."

A cluster of orchard workers volunteered to play "intruders." They slipped out the orchard gate, circling around to a designated fence line. The donkey brayed once as they passed, orchard staff patting it absentmindedly.

Behind the orchard fence, watchers crouched, rifles at the ready but loaded with blanks for safety. Darren stood by the bell contraption, tension building as orchard staff simulating infiltration tiptoed along the outside fence. Suddenly, a metallic clang echoed—the orchard staff had lightly touched the tripwire. A current ran through the circuit, and the bell on the table rang with a shrill clang.

Everyone jerked in surprise, the watchers on the wall pivoting, orchard staff inside the orchard half-laughing in relief that it worked. Tamsin's watchers nodded, impressed, while Harriet's group exchanged nods of approval. Darren grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. "We'll refine it, but there it is—the orchard's new alarm system."

In the courtyard, a pair of newly arrived survivors—refugees from a distant enclave decimated by undead—observed the demonstration with skepticism. One, a lanky man named Elian, frowned at the elaborate wires and hasty electronics. "Isn't this overkill? We fought off Jace's raid already. They're gone, right?"

His companion, a petite woman named Kora, chimed in. "Yeah, and we haven't seen undead in days. This orchard is well-guarded with watchers. Do we really need all these fancy alarms?"

Leila overheard, turning to them. She recognized them as recent arrivals who'd missed the orchard's earlier infiltration attempts and the repeated treachery of Jace/Ellie. Her eyes hardened. "They're not gone. They always come back."

Elian blinked. "But you repelled them. Why not rebuild without all this… paranoia?"

Leila's jaw tightened, old memories stinging. She pictured Jace's cunning grin, Ellie's cold eyes. She recalled the day they first betrayed her, how infiltration nearly destroyed the orchard. She forced her voice steady. "We learned the hard way that Jace never quits. Ellie too. One siege repelled doesn't mean they won't strike again, or that infiltration won't sabotage us."

Kora looked unconvinced. "But an alarm system, watchers on every corner—aren't we devoting too many resources to fear?"

Before Leila could respond, Tamsin's watchers stepped forward, scowling. A stoic orchard worker cleared his throat, muttering, "Would you rather get devoured next time undead show up unexpectedly?"

Kai, who had been quietly observing, placed a hand on Leila's shoulder—a grounding gesture. He addressed Elian and Kora calmly. "Trust me, we've seen infiltration from within, sabotage of gates, Jace leading undead to our doorstep. We can't afford illusions of safety."

Leila nodded, eyes still flinty. "I'm not naive enough to believe Jace/Ellie are truly gone. I… died once under their betrayal." Her tone sharpened. "We'll protect this orchard with everything we have, no matter how elaborate it seems."

That final line lingered in the hush. Elian and Kora exchanged uneasy looks, eventually bowing their heads. Perhaps they recognized the orchard's unity, forged from repeated heartbreak and survival. They murmured apologies for questioning the orchard's approach, slipping away to help orchard workers with mealtime preparations.

After the demonstration, orchard staff resumed normal tasks, watchers fanned out to do an evening perimeter check. Harriet's group retreated to assigned quarters, Tamsin's watchers shadowing them. Darren fine-tuned the alarm system's wires, orchard workers lugged leftover parts back to a small storage shed. The donkey dozed in a corner of the courtyard, apparently exhausted by the day's excitement.

Leila lingered by the newly installed alarm console—a crude control board inside a half-collapsed storeroom. Wires snaked across the floor, connecting to a battered circuit panel, with a small bell perched on top. She touched the wires absently, the tension in her shoulders unrelenting. This is good, but it might not be enough. Her mind rang with the phrase that had spilled from her lips: They always come back. Jace and Ellie had taught her that no victory was final.

She felt Kai's presence before he spoke. "You okay?"

She inhaled, turning to see him framed by the faint orchard lamplight. "Fine," she murmured, though the swirl of emotions grated her. "Just making sure everything's set."

His gaze softened. "You're still on edge from the new survivors' doubts?"

Leila hesitated. "They don't know what we've been through… how infiltration nearly destroyed us, how Jace/Ellie keep returning like a persistent plague." She paused, a tremor in her voice. "I sound like a cynic, but it's true."

Kai nodded, stepping closer. "We'd rather be labeled paranoid than caught off guard. If elaborate defenses keep us alive, so be it."

She allowed a small, grateful smile. "Exactly." A hush stretched, that unspoken connection lingering between them. She realized her breath had quickened. The orchard settlement was safer with the alarm system, watchers, farmland expansions, but inside her, the fear clung. She had nearly confided in him earlier, about the nightmares. But I pulled back, she recalled, the old heartbreak refusing to let her drop her guard fully.

Darkness fell, torches flickering along the orchard walls. The orchard donkey occasionally brayed at shadows, watchers posted near the perimeter, orchard staff winding down for the evening. The newly installed alarm system glinted with wires and makeshift lamps near the orchard gate, ready for another test if infiltration or undead roamed in the night.

Leila found herself on a small wooden platform overlooking the orchard, the hush of farmland behind her, Tamsin's watchers scanning from vantage points overhead. In the distance, the farmland swayed under a gentle breeze, now partially replanted after the siege's devastation. The orchard thrived, albeit scarred, forging new defenses against infiltration or future attacks. She sensed a flicker of hope, overshadowed by the knowledge that Jace/Ellie might return at any time.

Kai approached quietly, as if drawn by the same hush that gripped her. They shared a sidelong glance, unspoken trust in the orchard's glow. "You're not alone in keeping watch," he reminded her. "We all are."

She swallowed, feeling an ache behind her ribs. "I know. But every quiet night, I keep waiting for them to come back." The orchard's wind rustled, her words nearly lost in the breeze. "We have watchers, alarms, fortifications… but I can't shake the fear."

He nodded, the orchard's torchlight reflecting in his eyes. "We'll keep strengthening. Jace/Ellie might always come back, but we'll always stand ready."

Her lips curved in a faint, tired smile. "Yes. We will."

The orchard settlement stood behind them—a battered fortress of hope and caution. The new alarm system, farmland expansions, watchers' synergy, and Harriet's group's integration all spelled a deeper unity than ever before. Yet her cynicism lingered, shaped by Jace's betrayals. They always come back, she echoed in her mind, letting the orchard's hush envelop them both.

The orchard braced for whatever storm might loom, newly secured by an intricate alarm system and bolstered watchers. But as night settled, Leila's vow to protect the orchard at all costs remained unbroken: infiltration, sabotage, or siege would find no easy prey here. And though fear traced her every step, the orchard's unity—and her bond with Kai—offered a shield she couldn't deny. They would face tomorrow's uncertainties with a quiet, determined resolve.