After getting a look at the approaching cars Mike begins to shout out commands...

"We've got incoming! I want everyone to elevated firing positions, ASAP. Eric, can you muster up a flashy warning for them? Nothing serious, just enough to let them know we care. Everyone else, get ready to open up with a few warning shots. If the mojo doesn't scare them, maybe a show of firepower will."

He looks around at the friends and family gathered around, remembering them at the last moment, "Ana, maybe you can help get everyone undercover first, then meet us topside."

He grabs his rifle and heads for the stairs, "Let's move it."

Without hesitation, Joe follows Mike's orders, getting his sniper rifle on the way up, careful in his steps to keep the delicate weapon aligned. He always treats his "baby" with infinite care. On the rooftop, he gets in the spot he built for this exact purpose, letting others in as space permits.

"Ready to fire if they enter. I'll be waiting for a word from you, Mike, wether you want me to shoot a tire or aim for the head. Just call it and you'll have the shot want."

Lt. Baker return begins with elation as he walks up to the bar. It quickly turns to concern as his condition becomes apparent. Eric quickly administered first aid to take care of the worst injuries. “These are going to scar badly.” He said. Not that it looked like Lt. Baker was a stranger to such injuries. Eric immediately followed his first aid with a heal spell. The look of satisfaction, and the boy sitting beside him, spoke volumes as to Lt. Baker’s concern for scars.

In the bustle of work Eric hadn’t known Ana had left until she and Locke returned. Their wounds looked nearly as bad as Lt. Baker’s. His attempt to give aid was rejected, though Eric knew it was grief that drove her actions. He gave what aid he could to Locke and those they brought in. Only after Ana collapsed from pain and exhaustion did Eric[ have the opportunity to heal her broken arm and close the horrid gash in her leg. Stephanie cared for her while Eric continued his work. It didn’t surprise Eric when he returned to find Ana gone. It was even less of a surprise to see her return bloody and battered. She, like Lt. Baker, seemed unaffected by her wounds. Stephanie took the boy and cleaned him up, fed him and introduced him to her own children.

The days pass like a whirl wind, the group begins to organize and deal with the problems popping up like weeds in a garden.

Eric walks into the bar. He is immediately followed by an odd assortment of people. Thirty in all, they take seats around the room and wait. Mike looks up from the bar where he had been stocking supplies. He grabbed a rag from the bar, wiped his hands and nodded to Eric "Eric, what's going on? Who are these people?" He walked to the end of the bar where they could have measure of privacy. Eric, haggard and exhausted, walked over to where the dwarf waited. "Well," he began. "The grey-haired human sitting over there," He nodded to a bearded man with salt and pepper hair. "is Jameson Everett Loyd. He is a retired firefighter from this district. He and a few of his neighbors had the same idea we did and set up a small fort. It grew beyond their resources and they started a commune up on Couch and La Salle. He and about two hundred others have been keeping the wolves at bay. The Surly looking Elf by the door is Hans Tefft. He looks meaner than he actually is. His wife was killed during a raid by some group calling themselves the new order. He, like Tefft is retired, except he's retired military. He won't go into it so I can't say which. He and another hundred or so barricaded a section of upper Columbia and were holed up inside when I found them."
Eric paused and cleared his throat. "Can I get a beer? It's been a long day. Just put it on my tab." He smiled at that but only got a sour look from the stocky dwarf. "Ahem. Anyway, each of these people are uh, representatives of their respective groups. I tried to convince them that we had to work together or we would all end up like so much hamburger. They were reluctant up until the wall went up and now they seem more inclined to agree. I explained to them that we need to set up some kind of limited government. Some body to administer disputes, assemble some kind of defensive militia and organize the resources for the long haul. I also told them, right or wrong, that you were the man to talk to. They are all leaders of their own small groups and we need them so play nice.” Eric left the bar and spent a few, all-too-brief, moments with his wife and children before he continued the drudgery of now daily life.

Crowds gather at the few bridges not torn down by the elemental, pleading for sanctuary. Some lift small children above their heads begging for mercy. People fight for positions near the wall. It isn’t until people begin fighting one another that Eric intervenes. Lightning cracks the clear blue sky and silence falls like a blanket on the crowd. Eric raises a bull horn to his face and addresses them. “LISTEN UP! I know you are all afraid, we all are. But the fact of the matter is, we cannot take all of you in at once. There MUST be order. Separate yourselves into groups and designate a representative. We will discuss your entrance in the order your rep arrives so the sooner you organize, the sooner we can get started.” Holy crap. This could get real ugly, real fast. he thought.

When the gunfire started Eric just groaned and again ran for the wall. Mike began shouting. "We've got incoming! I want everyone to elevated firing positions, ASAP. Eric, can you muster up a flashy warning for them? Nothing serious, just enough to let them know we care. Everyone else, get ready to open up with a few warning shots. If the mojo doesn't scare them, maybe a show of firepower will."

As tired as he was Eric dredged another ounce of energy and pulled a bit of moisture from the air. He began rubbing his hands together, static electricity sparked from thumb to finger to the waist high knee wall facing the crowds below. Eric gathered more and more until the hair on his arms stood out straight. When he could hold no more he raised his arms and brought them down. Lightning flashed from the clear sky, thunder boomed and echoed off the buildings across the street. The super heated plasma arced down to strike a telephone pole. It was Eric’s intent to bring it down in front of the Buick.