Dean glanced at Jill and said, "That's enough for today. Let's head back to the fortress." Jill nodded silently, her face still slightly flushed from the emotional story.
They made their way down the crumbling stairwell of the building, carefully stepping over the cracked cement and debris. The Phantom stood in the shadows, its sleek matte-black surface blending into the dusk. Dean got on first, then Jill awkwardly climbed behind him, her arms wrapping around his torso just as she did earlier.
As they drove back through the silent streets, the hum of the Phantom was the only sound. Dean broke the silence. "So... how the hell did you end up being a nun?"
Jill exhaled a small laugh. "After Klaris died… I grabbed all the money and valuables I could find from that bastard's drawer. I didn't look back. I hopped from one part-time job to another, just to stay afloat. Then, somehow, I found myself at Saint Theresa Orphanage."
She looked out at the dying light beyond the hills. "At first, I didn't even think about becoming a nun. I just wanted peace… to stop being the monster I was. But the smiles of the kids there… it calmed something inside me. It gave me purpose. For the first time since Klaris, I felt… human."
Dean nodded slowly. "I see."
They reached the fortress gates just as twilight deepened. As the heavy metal doors creaked open, Robert rushed forward, waving his arms.
"Dean! Dean!" he shouted.
Dean revved the Phantom and sped up to meet him. "What? What's wrong?!"
Robert, catching his breath, calmed himself. "Earlier, a group of men in military uniforms came by. They demanded to be let in. I told them you weren't here and that we don't open the gates without the leader's approval."
Dean frowned. "Then what?"
"They didn't take it well," Robert continued. "One of them got real pissed. He said they'd come back tomorrow… and we 'better be prepared to open this fortress' for them. Otherwise, they'll force their way in."
Dean's jaw tightened. "I see."
He turned to Robert. "Call everyone. We're holding a meeting after dinner."
That evening, the kids and survivors ate in tense silence. The air was thick with unease. After the plates were cleared, Dean stood up and spoke.
"Weapons room. Everyone."
As the group slowly moved underground to the armory, whispers followed in their wake. Inside, Dean, Robert, and Marcus stood by the gun racks and survival gear.
"So," Robert asked, "what do we do tomorrow? Move to a new location?"
Dean shook his head. "No. This is the safest place for all of us. Out there? It's hell. We're not running."
Marcus nodded. "Then we hold our ground."
Dean looked at each of them, firm and resolute. "we prepare. Tomorrow… might be your first time to kill a living..