Chapter 12: The Strangers at the Gate

**Gabriella**

Life had finally settled into a semblance of normalcy, a routine that brought a fragile sense of peace to our small community. Each day followed a rhythm—mornings spent tending to the garden, afternoons working on repairs or organizing supplies, and evenings shared in quiet conversation, often ending with Andrew and me sitting on the porch, watching the sun dip below the horizon. For a while, it was easy to believe that maybe, just maybe, we could hold on to this small piece of safety we had carved out for ourselves.

But all that changed one afternoon when I spotted them—strangers, standing at the edge of our property, their silhouettes stark against the midday sun. There were four of them, rough-looking, and clearly not just passing through. My heart pounded in my chest as I watched from the window, frozen by a mix of fear and dread. We had always known this day might come, that eventually, someone would find us and want what we had.

I could feel the tension ripple through the house as everyone else noticed them too. The quiet chatter that usually filled the space died down, replaced by a heavy silence. Andrew was the first to react, his body tensing as he moved toward the door. A couple of the others, Mark and Sarah, followed closely behind, their faces set with grim determination. They were good people—loyal and brave—but I knew as well as they did that we were outnumbered.

I wanted to go with them, to stand by Andrew’s side, but he caught my eye just as I was about to follow. “Stay inside,” he said, his voice calm but firm. There was a steely resolve in his tone, a layer of protectiveness that I had come to recognize. But behind that, I could see the tension in his eyes, the unspoken worry that this encounter could go very, very wrong. “I’ll handle this,” he added, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer, as if silently urging me to trust him.

I nodded, though every instinct screamed at me to stay close to him. As they headed out the door, I positioned myself by the window, my hands gripping the sill so tightly that my knuckles turned white. I watched as they approached the strangers, who stood just outside our makeshift fence—a barrier that suddenly felt woefully inadequate.

**Andrew:**

From the moment I spotted those guys lurking at the edge of our property, a sick feeling settled in my gut. They weren’t here to trade or talk—they looked desperate, dangerous, the kind of people who had seen too much, lost too much, and were now willing to take whatever they needed by force. We had set up some basic defenses, but I knew they wouldn’t be enough to hold off a determined group. And these men, with their hardened expressions and calculating eyes, looked plenty determined.

I couldn’t let them get close to the house, couldn’t let them see Gabriella or the others, so I told her to stay inside. The last thing I wanted was for her to witness what might happen next, especially if things went south. “I’ll handle this,” I told her, but I wasn’t sure I believed it myself.

Mark and Sarah flanked me as we approached the strangers. I kept my hands at my sides, fingers grazing the hilt of the knife I always carried. It was more a show of confidence than anything else—I didn’t want these men to think we were easy targets. As we got closer, I sized them up. The leader was a tall guy with a scar that ran down the left side of his face, giving him a perpetual sneer. His clothes were dirty and worn, but his eyes were sharp, constantly scanning, calculating.

“We’re just looking for some food and water,” the leader said, his voice rough and gravelly. His words might have sounded reasonable, but there was something in the way he said it, the way his gaze flicked past me toward the house, that set off every alarm in my head. They weren’t just looking for supplies—they were sizing us up, trying to figure out how many of us there were, what we had, and how hard it would be to take it.

I kept my voice steady, matching his tone with a forced calm. “We don’t have much to spare,” I said, trying to sound regretful, but firm. “We’ve got a community here, and we’re just getting by ourselves.”

The leader didn’t seem convinced. He narrowed his eyes, glancing again at the house, where I knew Gabriella was watching from the window. I could feel his focus shift, like a predator locking onto prey. My blood ran cold at the thought of what might happen if he decided to push his luck.

“Come on now,” the leader drawled, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “There’s no need to be unfriendly. We’re all just trying to survive, aren’t we?”

Mark shifted beside me, his hand inching toward his rifle. I could see the tension in Sarah’s stance, too, her jaw clenched as she watched the men carefully. We were outnumbered, but I wasn’t about to let them know we were scared. I stepped forward, putting myself between them and the house, hoping the message was clear.

“This is our home,” I said, my voice hardening. “We’re willing to defend it.”

For a moment, everything hung in the balance. The air was thick with the unspoken threat, the possibility of violence hanging like a storm cloud ready to break. The leader’s eyes met mine, and I saw the calculation in his gaze—he was weighing his options, trying to decide if it was worth the risk.

“Alright,” he finally said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. “We’ll move on.”

But there was no relief in his words, only a promise that this wasn’t over. He gave a short nod to the others, and they turned to leave, but not before the leader cast one last, lingering glance at the house, his gaze sliding over the windows as if memorizing every detail.

I stood there, watching them until they were out of sight, my heart pounding in my chest. The tension in the air didn’t dissipate—it just shifted, morphing into a new kind of dread. I knew they’d be back, and next time, they wouldn’t be asking.

As I turned to head back to the house, I caught a glimpse of Gabriella through the window. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with worry, and it took everything I had to force a reassuring smile. But inside, I was already planning our next move, because whatever was coming, we had to be ready. This was our home, our sanctuary, and I would do whatever it took to protect it—and the people inside.