Mysterious Attacks

A faint dawn glow lit the orchard settlement, revealing watchtower silhouettes and the gently swaying farmland rows. Survivors began their routine: orchard staff checked irrigation lines, Harriet's group prepared for daytime chores, Tamsin's watchers patrolled the perimeter with rifles slung. For a moment, an air of normalcy settled over the orchard—until the first messenger arrived with troubling news.

Mid-morning found Leila by the courtyard's makeshift bulletin board, scanning freshly pinned notices about farmland expansions and infiltration protocols. Fiona hovered nearby, discussing seed inventories with a pair of orchard workers. The orchard donkey, quietly tethered to a feed post, flicked its ears at the early commotion.

Suddenly, an out-of-breath orchard watcher trotted in, guiding a visitor from a neighboring enclave—a weary traveler with a bandaged arm, face drawn from exhaustion. The orchard donkey perked up, orchard watchers stepping closer. Tamsin's watchers stiffened, scanning for infiltration threats.

Leila approached as the traveler caught his breath. "What happened?" she asked quietly, eyes flicking to the man's hastily bandaged wound.

He swallowed, voice cracking with urgency. "I'm from the Willow Bend Enclave. We… we've had random raids—buildings ransacked, supplies vanished. Happened at night. No sign of Jace or Ellie's crew, but someone's hitting smaller enclaves, stealing what they can."

A hush fell. Tamsin's watchers muttered among themselves, orchard staff exchanging worried glances. Fiona frowned. "Could be roving scavengers, or infiltration attempts. Are you sure it's not Jace's band?"

The traveler shook his head, wincing at the movement. "Didn't see their usual signs—no cunning infiltration tactics or undead herding. Just quick smash-and-grab raids, minimal casualties, but supplies lost. They never show their faces. Some enclaves suspect an organized group of thieves."

Leila's stomach knotted. Another threat. She recalled infiltration nightmares, sabotage from the inside, but this new pattern felt different—less cunning, more brute scavenging. She clenched her jaw. "We'll help coordinate. The orchard has watchers, alarm systems. We can warn neighboring enclaves about infiltration or roving raiders."

The traveler nodded gratefully, orchard watchers guiding him to a bench where Harriet's group offered water. Tamsin's watchers remained on edge. Roving scavengers might be random, or could link to infiltration attempts, they whispered among themselves.

Soon after, orchard staff gathered in the courtyard. Mark, recently returned from a small recon, joined them, eyes dark with concern. "Just heard from Redwood as well—some small huts ransacked, seeds missing. Not as large-scale as Jace's old raids, but repeated hits are unnerving enclaves."

Tamsin folded her arms, watchers behind her looking grim. "This is how infiltration or sabotage can begin—someone's testing enclaves for weaknesses."

Leila studied the orchard donkey dozing near a feed bin, remembering how many times they'd survived infiltration or Jace's cunning. These new raids sounded less sophisticated, but still menacing. She brushed a stray lock of hair aside. "Either it's an opportunistic band or a precursor to infiltration. We can't ignore it. We'll coordinate watchers with allied enclaves—Redwood, Willow Bend, perhaps Sunridge if possible."

Fiona nodded, orchard staff exchanging determined looks. "We have alarm systems in place now. If these raiders come near the orchard, we'll be ready."

Leila's gaze flicked to Tamsin's watchers. "Double infiltration checks. Host any traveling enclavers with caution, verifying identity. No slip-ups."

Tamsin's watchers gave stiff nods, orchard donkey letting out a mild bray in the background. Harriet's group lingered on the edges, prepared to bolster farmland security. Mark volunteered to ride out with orchard watchers to speak with Willow Bend and Redwood, clarifying infiltration screening or alarm signals for suspicious movement.

As orchard staff dispersed to gather supplies for Mark's next ride, Tamsin cornered Leila near the battered orchard fence. The orchard donkey, tethered close by, flicked its ears at Tamsin's hushed intensity.

"You see now?" Tamsin said, voice low. "Every time we expand or get comfortable, a new threat surfaces. These roving scavengers might not be Jace, but they can still weaken us—leading the way for infiltration or sabotage."

Leila exhaled slowly, recalling how infiltration once nearly destroyed them. "I hear you, Tamsin. But cowering behind orchard walls doesn't solve anything. We stand guard, unify with enclaves like Redwood, Willow Bend, and keep infiltration checks tight. We can't isolate ourselves."

Tamsin's watchers, standing behind her, shifted, arms folded. One quietly muttered, "What if we tried zero outside contact for a while? Let these raiders pass us by."

Leila's jaw tightened. I get their fear, she thought, scanning Tamsin's watchers. But we can't retreat fully. "We have farmland expansions, forging enclaves we might need, Redwood's alliance. Shutting down contact is more dangerous. I'm not letting infiltration or raiders trap us in total isolation."

Tamsin let out a quiet grunt, lips pressed tight but not pressing the point further. The orchard donkey brayed as if punctuating the tension. Harriet's group watched from a short distance, orchard staff trying not to eavesdrop too obviously. Sensing Tamsin's watchers' frustration, Leila repeated, "Double checks, yes. Partnerships, yes. We remain vigilant."

Later that afternoon, orchard watchers had parted ways to do perimeter checks, Harriet's group returned to farmland tasks, and Mark prepared to ride out with watchers to coordinate with Redwood and Willow Bend. The orchard donkey, set to rest for now, dozed near the orchard stable. Tamsin's watchers lingered in corners, half-suspicious of infiltration.

Kai approached Leila near a half-repaired orchard fence, footsteps quiet. She glanced at him, chest giving that familiar pang of conflicted longing. They hadn't spoken much since she returned from the small salvage run. He's likely worried about these new raids, she mused.

He cleared his throat softly. "You think these attacks could be Jace's doing, or infiltration scouts?"

She shook her head. "No sign it's Jace. Less cunning, more random. But we can't rule out infiltration angles. Tamsin's watchers are convinced it's a lead-up to something bigger."

Kai offered a small nod, studying her face. "You seem tired, troubled. After that salvage mission… everything okay?" His tone was gentle, genuine concern shining through.

She swallowed, recalling how the orchard donkey plodded faithfully as she nearly lost her life to a stray undead. Flashes of Jace's betrayal weighed heavily. But she forced a calm smile, stepping away slightly—a subtle boundary. "We must stay vigilant," she deflected, ignoring his question about her well-being. "Any sign of infiltration or sabotage while I was away?"

His brow furrowed, but he let her deflection pass. "No infiltration attempts, just watchers on high alert. Redwood's folks stayed quiet, Harriet's group cooperated. The orchard donkey's well-fed, orchard farmland stable. All calm, for now."

She nodded, relaxing a fraction. "Good. I appreciate that." She paused, chest tight. "But these new raids… I can't let my guard down."

Kai exhaled, concern brimming in his eyes, but he respected her emotional distance. "You don't have to handle it alone," he said softly. "We all stand watch."

She offered a brief, polite smile. "Thanks," then turned away, orchard donkey braying as if to fill the awkward silence. She reaffirmed her internal vow—not to rely too heavily on him—especially with infiltration paranoia swirling. I can't let personal feelings cloud orchard leadership.

By evening, Mark and orchard watchers had departed, set to coordinate with Redwood and Willow Bend enclaves on infiltration protocols and alarm signals. The orchard donkey rested in its stable, orchard staff concluding farmland tasks. Harriet's group dozed near a bunkhouse. Tamsin's watchers strolled the orchard perimeter, glancing warily at any sign of infiltration or sabotage.

In the courtyard, orchard staff gathered for a simple meal around a small fire pit. Fiona and Darren joined Leila, reviewing the orchard's supply counts. They quietly discussed how roving scavengers might target orchard farmland if they discovered it—the orchard donkey, watchtower expansions, farmland produce all prime for theft.

"Should we enforce more infiltration checks on travelers?" Fiona asked, ladling stew into tin cups. "We risk losing potential alliances, though."

Darren nodded thoughtfully. "Balance, right? Tamsin's watchers are already paranoid. We can't push them too far, or we freeze up. But infiltration remains a real threat, especially if roving bands try to sabotage us."

Leila tapped her foot, orchard donkey's bray echoing faintly from across the courtyard. "We'll keep watchers posted at the farmland edges, maintain infiltration screening for any arrivals, keep Redwood's lines open. If these random attacks grow bolder, we might need to fortify farmland even more."

Fiona agreed with a subdued sigh, orchard staff listening in. The orchard donkey coughed once, orchard watchers glancing over. An undercurrent of tension weighed every conversation—the orchard advanced, but infiltration or raider assaults might flare at any moment.

Night deepened, watchtower torches lighting the orchard's walls. The orchard donkey curled up in its stall, orchard staff dozing in bunkrooms. Tamsin's watchers roamed quietly, infiltration checks ongoing. Harriet's group huddled in assigned quarters, orchard farmland outside blanketed by moonlight.

Leila stood near the orchard's main gate, scanning the farmland lines for any glimmer of sabotage or infiltration. Her mind churned with the day's updates: enclaves reporting random raids, orchard watchers raising alarms, Tamsin's group worried about infiltration. She recalled Kai's gentle attempt to gauge her emotions, how she deflected, insisting on vigilance over vulnerability. I can't let my guard down—fear of infiltration can't be overshadowed by personal feelings.

Fiona's footsteps approached, voice soft. "You good? We'll handle these roving scavengers if they come."

Leila nodded, expression distant. "Yes. We stay vigilant." She repeated the words like a mantra, feeling the orchard donkey's occasional bray echo across the hush. Tamsin's watchers signaled a final perimeter check, orchard staff winding down. The orchard's synergy had weathered infiltration attempts, Jace/Ellie's siege, Redwood's expansions—they could face roving scavengers too.