The black unmarked van drove along the closed highway. Not a single other car was around, making it quiet. The driver yawned, eyeing his GPS, then the road again. The officer next to him was shifting in his seat, struggling to fight sleep.

  “Eyes up,” the driver said, “no sleeping ‘till we’re there.”

  The officer shook his head, groaning and looking out the window. He noticed a rugged dressed man collapsed on the side of the road, face down in front of a cardboard sign reading ‘anything helps’. He shook his head. “I thought them homeless were supposed swept already?” he said.

  “Probably missed a few,” The driver replied. A set of overhead lights flashed above them, causing the van to stop briefly. The officer to the side glanced at the driver.

  “Hey, why’d we stop?”

  “Well ‘cause the lights are flashing.”

  The officer in the passenger seat looked ahead, placing his hand over his brow. He looked back at the driver, “Am I blind, or do I see no traffic?”

  The drive stared at him for a moment. He then took his foot of the break. “It’s been a long day,” he said.

  As the van drove off the officer in the passenger seat could see the homeless man again roll over to his side, bleeding profusely from under his ribs. He shook his head and took out a granola bar. “Ya think we should grab him too?” he asked taking a bite.

  “Nah,” the driver said, “We’ll just call an ambulance.”

  “But the road’s closed.”

  The two officers looked at each other and burst out laughing, the officer in the passenger seat wiping his eye.

  Not too long after, another figure came into view. This time it was a shopping cart in the middle of the road, filled with clothes.

  “Looks like he forgot something,” the driver said.

  “Ha, let’s leave it for now…” the officer in the passenger seat said.

  The driver grinned and sped the van up, charging directly at the cart and smashing into it.

  ‘BOOM!’

  The cart exploded. The van to rocked violently rock left and right, almost tipping to its side. The driver cursed as to officer next to him held on to the handle above him, shrieking. His radio went off.

  “K-KRTKRT! This is squad twelve to cockpit, is everything alright? Over.”

  The officer grabbed his radio, “Just a minor inconvenience.” He growled, “Over.”

  The driver looked behind them from his rea-view mirror “Why in the world was that buggy filled with explosives?!”

  “I dunno,” the officer replied, “We may need to pull over and have a chat with that fellow back there.”

  The driver shook his head, “We have an assignment to do. We’ll call the Western Precinct and see if they can—”

  ‘POP! SKINT! POP! SKINT!’

  The van jolted, as if driving into a pothole, sending the men’s heads jerking forward. The dashboard began flashing.

  “Our air pressure!” the officer cried. He looked out the window. He could see burnt rubber and traces of their tires behind them, “Driver! Our tires—”

  “Eyes up officer!” the diver exclaimed. The officer looked ahead to see a figure standing in the middle of the road. They appeared to be a woman wearing a faded yellow raincoat and matching hat. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bright colored toy gun.

  “The hell?” the officer said, “Is that a water gun?!”

  “This just keeps getting better and better!” The driver said, trying to steer the swerving van. He gritted his teeth, “It’s too late to slow! I’m gonna have to ram her—!”

  ‘SHOONK!’

  “GURK!” the driver gagged, grabbing for his throat. The other officer’s eyes widened in horror as blood burst from the hole in his Adam’s apple like a faucet.

  He screamed, “What the HELL—”

  ‘SHOONK! SHOONK! SHOONK!’

  Now glass exploded all through the windshield. High pressurized water penetrated the defending officer’s arms as he tried to unbuckle, but to no avail. He grabbed his radio.

  “We’re under attack! Repeat, we are UNDER ATTA—GRAHHHHHHH!” his screams were the last thing the officers in the back heard before the van crashed into the guardrail, throwing the homeless—including Mr. Holdover and Shakar—from their seats. One of the large cops with freckles unbuckled and shot to his feet.

  “Everyone up and follow me!” his shrill voice barked. He pointed to two in the back, “Except for you two. Call Head precinct and request backup immediately! Everyone else, with me!”

  Led by him and another large Bodily type, the officers pushed through he piles of people on the floor, stepping on and over the passengers in the tight spaced vehicle. They burst through the doors into the setting sun, rushing out the van and spreading out along it, weapons pointed. It was quiet on the empty road, only the occasional gust of wind would send an officer’s head in another direction. One of the officers in extra body armor took out the van’s portable megaphone.

  “You have committed a SERIOUS felony against the ECPD. Come out with your hands up or you WILL be shot!” he boomed. “Show yourselves NOW!

  “Alrighty then,” A relaxed sounding voice said.

  ‘SLURCH!’

  The officer’s knees, elbows, and throat were torn open in a spray of blood, quickly toppling his body to the ground. Another shrieked and began firing in his direction, only of have his own throat slit from behind him. The freckled officer growled, “Men, FIRE!”

  Gunshots went off, automatic ring spayed in every direction, piercing nearby trees, filling the road with holes, and pelleting the van. From inside the van rattled, making Shakar wish he could cover his ears as the noise echoed throughout the van. The other homeless cried out in confusion while others ducked their heads. A mother and her injured child began crying. Outside, the freckled officer put his hand up, ceasing the gunfire. It was dead quiet. He carefully scanned the highway, bullets and dead birds lined his sight. Then, an officer cried out from behind.

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  ‘S-SLURCH!’

  The freckled officer looked around franticly, seeing the only ones left were him and the other Bodily officer. Then he saw him, a homeless man with gray messy hair, braided beard and a thin light-brown coat dash at him, glass bottle in hand. With a sharp cry, the officer slammed his hand on the ground as hard as he could, causing it to shake, but the homeless man leaped into the air, slicing his bottle against the man’s back, landing behind him. But the cop simply smirked.

  “Y’know,” the freckled cop said looking behind him, “That ain’t gonna work on me,” He clenched his fist and bent his knees to pounce, but the homeless didn’t move, and after a few steps, nor could the cop.

  “Gah!” He cried. The officer could feel a cold tingle in his back and dropped to his knee. “Dirty little—what’d you do to me?!”

  The man didn’t say anything, rather he stepped back as the other Bodily officer charged him. The homeless man threw his coat up, redirecting the running officer into the guard rail so hard he broke through it, screaming as he fell from the steep drop. The freckled officer ran in, quickly throwing his shoulder and elbow into the man’s stomach. The man's bare feet slid across the pavement as the Bodily officer charged again, only for another similar looking homeless man, this time with his hair tied in a bun and low cut beard, to leap on the cops shoulder’s and cut his face. The cop yelled, falling over as the newcomer looked at him officers.

  “Looks like you’re bleeding, and badly at that.” He smirked pointing at the freckled cop. The man touched his back to feel it was soaked with blood. He began to feel lightheaded.

  “You…”without warning, he burst off the ground at the two, “Filthy creatures!!”

  However, blood gushed out of his wounds, making him stumble from the first step and face plant to the pavement. He brought his head up, enraged.

  “What do you want from us?!” he gurgled

  The first man with the braided beard looked at him, “Nothing.” He looked down at the officer and raised his broken glass bottle. “You’ve done enough as is.”

  The cop screamed

  From inside the van, the officer in the long topped hat snapped his head up. He eyed his partner, who was on his radio hitting the buttons furiously.

  “Damn it!” he yelled, throwing it on the floor hitting a man. “I can’t get ahold of the Head Precinct!”

  “Perhaps if you let us go,” Shakar said. “Then maybe we could divert their attention—”

  “Shut it, crook!” the hatted cop snapped. “We ain’t letting a single one of you even try to—”

  ‘Clink!’

  The door was unlocked form the outside, slowly swinging open. With a yelp, the two officers opened fire, unloading all of their ammo on the door, rattling the inside of the vehicle with flashing lights and earsplitting noise. Shots ricocheted, and people screamed, staying low to the floor along with Shakar, who held Mr. Holdover’s head down as well.

  ‘Now would be a great time to let us know you’re not sleeping!’ he thought, gritting his smile.

  After the last bullet was fired, the other door swung open.

  “You blues never learn do you?” a female voice said. “You know better than to try to shoot through a bulletproof door.”

  ‘Squirt! Squirt!’

  The officer’s guns were disarmed, one of them falling over as a stream of water pierced his throat. The officer in the hat saw that and grimaced back at the woman.

  ‘These homeless…’ he thought, ‘They even know our armor’s vulnerable points!’

  Stepping inside, Shakar could get a better look at her. She was around Mr. Holdover’s age, wearing a matching raincoat, boots, and hat, with noodle-like strands of brown hair falling from it. She scanned the room, taking another step before the officer in the hat grabbed Shakar, placing a knife to his neck.

  “Stay back!” he yelled, “Stay back I say! Or this one gets it!”

  The woman raised an eyebrow, then, grinned. “And then what?”

  “Well…” the cop sputtered, “I’ll—I’ll—”

  “Attempt to use someone else? You’ll be dead anyways.” The woman took another step, standing just a few feet from the officer. She eyed his partner, who was still gasping and clutching his neck, “How about this? You let us walk, and I’ll give you the honor of surviving a duel with the Groundhogs.”

  The cop’s lip quivered in anger, “Honor?! Of surviving a homeless person?! You should be saying that about—”

  “Too slow,” She said, firing from each fingerless gloved hands. One shot disarmed the knife while the other hit the cop in the eye through his visor. He screamed and fell back alongside his partner, who tried to get up, only for the woman to dash in and stomp on his throat. Shakar looked from the officer’s bodies to her. His mind worked quickly.

  “Ah, thank you for that! I was certain I was dead—”

  ‘’SQUIRT!’

  Shakar’s smile remained but his eyes were wide. He slowly looked down to see the cuffs were on the ground, broken in two. The woman walked past him, slapping his shoulder. “Relax will ya? I was aiming for the cuffs.”

  She began to do the same with the others as the two men stepped in the van. Their tanned faces builds, and lack of shoes were identical but one wore a light brown coat with a braided beard while the other wore a dark brown with his beard out and hair tied in a bun, letting the rest fall behind his head.

  “You should’ve seen them Sunshine,” the one in the dark brown coat said. “I think I can add more Blues to my record now.”

  The woman chuckled, shaking her head as she freed Mr. Holdover, “You, Johnny, as well as I are about a few dozen pigs away from joining the Groundhogs.” She looked down at the two on the ground. “Days like today get us just a bit closer.”

  “You saved us!” the homeless woman said, her child sniffling. “Who are you people?”

  “We’re just a few friendly faces.” The woman said. She looked at everyone else. “If anyone wants safe haven, follow me!” she looked at Shakar, then pulled out her Green Pass. “And you. See me outside with your friend.” She said.

  Shakar watched her and the two men file out of the vehicle along with everyone else. He was about to leave before noticing Mr. Holdover still there head down.

  “You can go ahead and put away the charade.” He said, “The cops are…gone, for better or for worse.”

  Mr. Holdover didn’t move, so Shakar tapped his shoulder, causing the man to flinch back and swat him away. “Shit, shit, stop I’m awake!” he stirred and looked around. “Are we there yet?”

  “…No.”

  “Huh? Aw shit.” Mr. Holdover said getting up. He saw the officers on the ground, then, heard the crowd outside. ‘What happened here—?”

  “Please, just…follow me,” Shakar said, leading him outside. They saw the woman and the twin men standing at the head of the small crowd, the one in the light brown coat waved them down, to which the two went over. The woman stepped up.

  “Name’s Sunshine,” she said. She gestured to the man on her left, “This one with the pretty lookin’ beard’s Johnny Tears. His twin to the right with the pretty hair’s Sammy Tears.”

  “Mr. Holdover,” Mr. Holdover said shaking their hands, “The guy in the pretty hat’s my assistant, Shakar.”

  “Just as Spit said,” the woman nodded, “Well, now that we got your asses out of harm’s way, it’s about time to head back to Haven.”

  “Just how did you know where to find us?” Shakar asked, glancing over his shoulder.

  “That green pass in your pocket,” she replied, “Prime Hill notified us you were getting close to the border. Thankfully we were nearby to grab ya.”

  “That’s great but we didn’t need any ‘rescuing’.” Mr. Holdover said. “In fact we didn’t even get what we came here for because you all dropped in out of nowhere!”

  The man known as Sammy shrugged, “Orders are orders. Try not to get too worked up about it.”

  The man known as Johnny nodded.

  Sunshine looked at her pass, tracing her finger cross it. “There’s a pickup point about a mile from here. But we should be quick, when one pig squeals, the rest run to its rescue.”

  Mr. Holdover gestured to the van, “Our job—!”

  “Is finished,” Johnny said. “Now follow us, quick.”

  The three made a hard left, cutting into the woods nearby, the rest of the group of homeless following. Shakar jogged over to Mr. Holdover, who squinted at him, “Where the hell you run off to so quick?”

  “Just making sure we didn’t leave anything behind.” Shakar said. He looked off at the group, watching them leave. “I suppose this is where we clock out?”

  “Hmm,” Mr. Holdover said, “That reminds me, what the hell was your deal earlier?”

  “Earlier?”

  He glared, “Earlier back in the van, when I specially told you to call Haven.”

  “Ah yes that. I guess I’m a little slower than I thought.”

  “And you think I’m buying that?!”

  Shakar paused, waiting for the others to move ahead. “To be honest I’m not sure if Haven would’ve shown up in the first place.”

  “Eh?” Mr. Holdover said, “I was skeptical of the guys too, but I don’t think they’d risk everything and let us get caught.”

  “Why not?” Shakar said, “To the Groundhogs we’re just a couple of associates. It’s as you said about us being ‘used’.”

  Mr. Holdover eyed him, then looked ahead and kept walking, “Don’t take from me, alright? I’m not the sort of guy that should been seen as an ‘inspiration’ or role model. I just want people to see the truth so they can make up their own minds. That’s all.”

  Shakar stopped for a moment, letting Mr. Holdover walk ahead. ‘It’s not you though. I have my own reasons to be wary of these people.’ He took a whiff of himself and nearly gagged. ‘Now that I think about it, weren’t my clothes still at the shelter?’