Weapons and rations were the two most important, although Alicia's team packed an extra satchel full of anything they thought worth trading. Anyone familiar with the wastelands knew that it was filled with Ancients as well as Nomads. Just a fancy name for Human survivors, it was actually very misleading. Most of them did no moving around, instead residing in full communities that were usually located in remote areas or even caverns.

There was one striking difference between Separatists and Nomads, however. Separatists lived in peace while Nomads took what they wanted by force. They were essentially an organized gang that lived by its own rules. Rules that included the occasional ransacking of a Separatist town, kidnapping of other Humans for the purpose of breeding, slaying Ancients they came across and outnumbered, and sadly, even killing Resistance soldiers. They were groups without conscience. A fuck the world attitude combined with weapons, a kill to survive mentality and their very own agenda.

Some of the more aggressive Ancients, the type at Berlin's doorstep, would kill humans on sight. However the ones who controlled what used to be North America, simply considered Nomads to be one of two things. A good resource for slave trade or a complete waste of time. The fact was, in the eyes of the Ancients who moved across these lands on their way to Washington City, Nomads presented no real danger. They were glorified farming communities with no real weapons to speak of.

The Ancients instead focused on the ongoing fight against remaining military forces. Even worse, some Nomads had even sold out their own kind in exchange for the freedom of being left alone.

Inside the secure confines of Washington City, Alicia and her team were some of the most elite freedom fighters left in what was once considered the United States.

Once outside the safety of Guardian Angel, however, they were nothing more than survivors, at least in the minds of Nomads and Separatists. Taking goods to trade would give them a better chance of finding safe houses among the Humans who had accepted Ancient rule, and present them with a much better chance of completing the task.

             

“He doesn't talk much huh?” Alicia asked of Certes.

Alicia and Nadia had both done their part to avoid the other throughout the day. The biggest reason was their fear of the group becoming wise to their lust for one another. And, of course, they weren't sure that they could practice self-control a second time.

“No, not a lot.” Nadia replied as both teams were inside the same small barracks-style building which stood near the edge of Washington City.

“What a coincidence, he doesn't either,” Calypso said, looking into the direction of G. “Of course Certes outweighs him by about three hundred pounds and G is cursed with a face that only a mother could love.” he added before glancing around the room and bursting in laughter.

“I know. Shut up Calypso.” he added after catching a stern look from Alicia.

No argument or plea of defense came from the direction of G. Calypso was right about all of it, only leaving out the most important part. G was feared. A well-earned fear.

Though not large by any standard, he was a slayer of demons, having more kills to his name than anyone else in the room. When it came down to a fight to the death, G was prepared to do anything to continue living.

That was a well accepted trait among his peers, much more so than his hobby. The violin. It seemed to calm him when playing, and the vintage Guarneri violin he had managed to salvage during a raid in Old Virginia was a sight to see. Absolutely an antique, the wooden masterpiece had very few gashes, just enough to remind everyone of a time that once was. A time before demons walked among men. Of course, their respect for the instrument quickly faded when G began playing. Though he considered himself a formidable violinist, he was anything but.

However, he was a very important part of their team, and if that meant he was cursed with the face that only a mother could love, as well as a severe lack of musical talent, so be it.

Nadia and Preacher both spent several long moments staring at G, who was crouched over and sharpening the long blade which normally rested in a sheath on his back. As they both wondered what kind of person would willingly carry a violin into battle as though it were a weapon, their attention turned to the large window which faced the front side of the building.

It had a direct view of the city's edge, which was the best seat in the house as Washington City's bell began to ring loudly; dusk quickly setting it.