Ancient vehicles, some of which were badly damaged, pulling themselves by. And though Jackson, nor Alicia, had any idea of knowing how many Ancients passed, they both knew it was a great many.

“I'd estimate around eight hundred of them,” Preacher said in a whispered voice. “Looks like your army in Washington City whipped some ass.”

“We always do,” Calypso said with a grin. “We always do.” he stated again proudly.

At times, the Ancients would be accompanied by both scouts to clear the path ahead and trailers, which would lag behind purposely to ensure they weren't being followed. Preacher knew their tactics well, and after waiting nearly an hour past the last sight of an Ancient, he signaled the group once more by way of scope light.

Rather than disturb an ailing Austin and the people of his town, who all rested comfortably at the moment, the group met behind the caravan.

“I don't understand.” Calypso said, demanding an answer.

“I'm in love,” Alicia replied. “I'm not going to let Jackson go without me.”

“But why go at all, we will be in Washington this time tomorrow night?” Calypso asked.

“Because the men who stayed back in New Kinneston are brave. They are protecting their homes, hoping to maybe see their children again. They are armed, but no way in hell they will last against that many Ancients, and we all know it.” Jackson replied.

“So what now?” Preacher asked.

“You, Certes, Calypso and Austin continue with the caravan. Get these people to safety. Jackson and I will follow the Ancients back toward New Kinneston.” Alicia said.

“And when daylight hits, I'll use the transmitter to call in an air strike.” Jackson added.

“And they'll come? You are sure that your Navy will send in enough planes to wipe the Ancients out?” Preacher asked.

“No,” Jackson replied. “Hell, I'm not even sure we have any birds left.” he added, turning to look at the caravan group which slept near Austin. “But I have to try. These children deserve a better fate than living in fear. The best way to change things is to hit these fuckers' right in the mouth.”

“I don't like it,” Calypso said. “We've already lost G. If you get out there and no air strike follows, you'll comprise your position and...”

“You don't have to like it,” Alicia said sternly. “I know we've lost G, and trust me, I wouldn't be going unless I thought it would work.” she added, approaching the loyal member of her team. “You just take this and make sure that gutless son of a bitch isn't waiting for me when I get back.” Alicia said, handing Calypso the sheet of paper which listed everyone involved with the Ancients.

“Understood,” Calypso replied with a smile. “I'll take care of it. And you better take care of our girl,” he added, turning to Jackson. “Otherwise you'll answer to me.”

“You got it.” Jackson replied, his words filled with respect.

“Aw, you're just like the big brother I never had.” Alicia said with a smile, using her left arm to hug the muscle-bound warrior for a moment.

“Well, as your big brother,” he said with a smile. “I'm telling you to bring your ass back to Washington City in one piece.”

“It's not me you gotta worry about,” she replied confidently, “It's the gray-skinned bastards with their tails tucked between their legs.”

And with that statement, Alicia and Jackson slipped away, the outline of their bodies quickly engulfed by the dark of night.

The Ancients had been devastated, at least the ground force that had been dispatched to take Washington City. They had arrived in their own variation of tanks and war vehicles, most of which were damaged beyond repair. The ones that did remain in service, rattled badly and sparked at random from damage recently inflicted.

“They must have took one hell of a beating.” Jackson said, his voice hushed to near silence.

“They usually do,” Alicia responded, both of them nestled into a patch of thick brush as the Ancients marched back into the direction of New Kinneston. “They show up with their high end weaponry and flashy ground assault vehicles; the look of superiority in their eyes,” she added. “But they always look the same when retreating. Beaten.”

“I usually see 'em from the air,” Jackson replied. “Not accustomed to being so close.”

“For me it's the opposite,” she said softly. “I'm used to seeing the bastards up close and personal. At least when I'm not trying to live some sort of normal life back in Washington.”

“If you don't mind me asking, what's life in Washington City like exactly?” Jackson asked.