The morning was cold and sharp.
Mist still clung between the trees when they began gearing up. No shouting. No rush. Everyone already knew what to do.
Motorcycle armor went on over layers of clothing—jackets, forearm guards, knee pads. Nothing flashy. Nothing unnecessary. Practical. Quiet.
Harry checked straps without speaking, movements precise and practiced. He didn't hurry anyone. He just made sure everything sat right.
"Too tight?" he asked Carlos quietly.
"No," Carlos rolled his shoulders. "Actually… better than I expected."
Daryl was already ready. Bow over his shoulder, crossbow in hand, fresh bolts neatly set. He glanced at Harry and gave a short nod. No words needed.
Merle zipped his jacket and snorted.
"Hell, I hate admitting it—but this stuff's comfortable."
"Get used to it," Harry said calmly. "Long road ahead."
They moved out.
The Morales' pickup led the way.
Merle's chopper flanked them.
Harry's vehicle followed at a distance, as always.
The quarry was visible from far off. Cars. People. Movement. Signs of life—rare in a world coming apart.
As they got closer, heads turned. Eyes followed them. Not relief. Assessment.
Shane stepped out first.
Police posture, even without the badge. Confidence. His hand hovered where a holster used to be.
He took in the armor. The weapons. The vehicles.
Then he smiled.
"All right," Shane said loudly. "You're stopping here."
Harry cut the engine and stepped out slowly. No sudden moves.
"We're not trouble," Harry said. "Just passing through."
"Not anymore," Shane replied, stepping closer. "There are rules here. I'm the law."
Merle chuckled darkly.
"Buddy, you're a little late with that badge."
Shane ignored him. His eyes stayed on Harry.
"Weapons. Supplies. Food."
"All of it comes under group control."
"Whose control?" Harry asked calmly.
"Mine," Shane snapped. "I was a cop. I know how to keep order."
Daryl tensed. Carlos stepped forward.
"You don't have that right," Carlos said.
Shane turned on him.
"We survive through discipline."
"That's not discipline," Harry said coldly. "That's theft."
Shane's eyes narrowed.
"You don't even know who I am."
"I don't care," Harry said. "Step aside."
That was when Lori appeared.
She assessed the scene quickly and took her place beside Shane—not in front of him. Beside him.
"Shane's right," she said. "We can't allow people with that much firepower to move around unchecked."
"Unchecked by you," Merle muttered.
"You're scaring people," Lori snapped, looking at the armor. "This is dangerous."
Harry met her gaze for a long moment.
"What's dangerous," he said evenly, "is thinking authority still comes with a uniform. And that fear is a tool."
Shane took another step.
"Last warning. Hand it over."
The group shifted as one.
Daryl raised his crossbow.
Carlos moved closer to Harry.
Merle's hand slid nearer to the machete.
Ana stayed back—but her eyes were steady, focused.
"Go on," Merle said. "I've been wondering how far a cop goes without a badge."
The tension was thick enough to feel.
Shane scanned them. Not a crowd.
A group.
People who wouldn't fold.
Lori pressed her lips together.
"You're making a mistake," she said.
"No," Harry replied. "We're just not letting you make one."
A long second passed.
Then Shane stepped back half a pace.
"Fine," he said. "But you don't run things here."
"We never planned to," Harry answered. "We're just moving through."
He turned first and walked toward the quarry.
The others followed.
Shane watched them go with open resentment.
Lori watched with unease.
And somewhere among the parked cars, someone understood a simple truth:
In this world, power isn't taken.
It's either recognized—or it isn't.
End of Chapter 14