by Nancy Isaak
When we finally placed Farrah into the ground, Mia woke up with a start—almost as if she knew that it was time to say good-bye to her friend and fellow inmate. Although too weak to stand, she pushed herself up, breathing heavily. She lasted only a few seconds on her elbows, before she fell back down again.
But it was enough time for Mia to say, “Go home, Farrah…you’re safe now.”
* * * *
At the bottom of the mountain, we found our way blocked by a mudslide. There was no way we could continue; the mud was too thick for our bikes to navigate. As the rain continued to fall, we decided to take shelter in a nearby cabin until the next morning. It would give Mia and Laura a chance to recuperate. Plus—if we were lucky—the rain might stop and the mud dry up. Otherwise, we’d have to find a different route home in the morning.
While I carried Mia into one of the two small bedrooms, Rhys and Jude set about cooking a meal of canned chili and baked potatoes. There was a covered barbeque behind the cabin and the two of them body-checked each other as they made their way across the patio towards it.
“Are they brother and sister?” asked Laura, watching them through the bedroom window.
Rhys had almost caused Jude to drop a can of chili. In response, she had bounced a potato off of his head.
“No,” I answered. “They just act like it.”
I laid Mia onto the queen-sized bed, tucking a comforter all around her. “Cozy?”
She nodded, smiling slightly. Then, she reached out and put her hand on my side, a little above my waist and closer to my back. “Okay?”
“Me...sure,” I answered, a little confused. “I’m fine…no problem.”
Mia shook her head slightly and pulled back her hand—it was covered in blood.
“Not okay.”
* * * *
It had to have been my fight with Diego—when I got the knife wound.
I had been under the impression that he had only sliced open my jacket. Apparently, he had opened up five inches of skin at the side of my waist as well. That I hadn’t felt anything had more to do with adrenaline, I believed, than the depth of the cut.
Because—the moment I opened up my shirt and looked down at the seeping wound—it hurt like a sumbitch!
Jude used a needle and thread from our first aid kit to sew me up, after first injecting me with some localized anesthetic that Jay had—lucky for me—had the foresight to include with the emergency supplies.
“I’m thinking five stitches,” mused Jude, tying off her first suture.
“Five is good,” I quickly said.
“Seven it is,” she grinned.
Rhys and Laura stood on either side of us, watching Jude work—their eyes wide with interest.
“Don’t you guys have something else to do?” I asked, irritated.
“We gave Mia some more juice,” Laura told me. “She’s sleeping now.”
“And the coals still need time to heat up,” added Rhys.
“Well…go away,” I growled. “You annoy me.”
Laura smiled at me. “My daddy used to get cranky like you.”
“Are you calling me old?”
She giggled. “That’s what daddy always said, too.”
I swung my hand out, as if to whack at her. She jumped back, laughing, then turned and sprinted for the door.
“That’s right, little girl,” I said. “You better run!” Then, I glared up at Rhys. “And you need to go check on those coals. The last thing we need is a fire.”
Rhys snickered. “Good luck on that. Have you even heard the rain?”
When I swung at Rhys, I actually connected—smacking him on his leg. He whacked me back, a good one on the top of my head. Then, he turned and went outside to work on dinner.
“It’s good to hear Laura laugh,” I said, quietly.
Jude tied off another stitch. “We should get Peyton to talk to her when we get back—to both her and Mia.”
“Peyton?”
With a snort, Jude tugged hard on the new stitch she was working on. “Seriously, Jacob…do I really have to spell it out?”
I shook my head. “Sorry…no…I’m just a little slow right now. Talking to Peyton is probably smart…you’re right.”
Suddenly…there was a thundering noise outside; the house trembled, its contents rattling away.
In the other room, Laura squealed in terror.
Meanwhile, outside, I could just barely see Rhys through the window—holding onto the handle of the barbeque and looking up at the mountainside.
Fear was written all over his face.
* * * *
The moment the last of my stitches was tied off, I threw on my shirt, grabbed my jacket, and raced out of the room—Jude right on my heels.
As we ran down the hallway, I called to Laura in the back bedroom. “Stay where you are…take care of Mia!”
I had a quick glimpse of Laura bending down next to Mia’s bedside. She took the older girl’s hand in her own, holding it tightly.
Meanwhile, the thunderous noise had ceased, having lasted no more than a few seconds. But the shaking continued—although now growing fainter with each passing moment.
“It had to be an earthquake, right?” said Jude, as we ran into the backyard.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “It didn’t feel right.”
Rhys was still at the barbeque, clenching its handle. He wasn’t moving—just standing there, staring up at the side of the mountain above us.
“You okay?” I yelled.
“Look!” he said, pointing.
Jude and I both turned and looked upward—our mouths falling open in shock. The mountain we had just ridden down was now missing half of its right side—as if a giant had taken an axe and cleaved it downward, slicing off a good portion of it.
“What happened?” asked Jude, confused. “Where did it go?!”
“The mountain just started making this, like roaring noise,” explained Rhys. “Then, the side of it just started to slide down.” He pointed farther down the mountainside—toward Ojai. “There was, like all this rock and mud and it just slid behind those trees down there.”
“I know what this is,” I said. “Ms. Francis talked about this in class last year. It’s because of all the rain. The mountain must have gotten saturated and part of it slid down.”
“Hell of a rock slide,” whistled Jude.
“We came down from there,” said Rhys, looking horrified. “I mean, we just came down right there!”
“Look up,” said Jude, pointing. “Right in the middle of the broken part, the little piece that’s jutting out. Recognize it?”
Rhys’ mouth dropped open in wonder. “The meadow where we buried Farrah…it’s still there!”
“But not the house,” I added. “The slide took it.”
“Straight to hell, I hope,” growled Jude. “Right where it deserves to be.”
Kharma…
* * * *
Rhys and I carefully rode the horses out to the slide area after we had eaten dinner; it was still too muddy to take our bikes. Jude had wanted to come, but I didn’t want to leave Laura and Mia alone. Both girls needed to eat more—they were so skinny—and Jude was just the person to spoon-feed them.
“Open your fricking mouth!” I heard her bark at Laura, as we left through the front door. “Don’t make me embarrass myself with stupid airplane noises.”
The door closed behind us on Laura’s mischievous giggles.
“She’s kind of a happy girl,” said Rhys, as we walked toward our bikes. “Especially considering what she’s been through.”
“And you better be considering that,” I warned him. “Because I don’t want you going near her in that way, you know what I mean.”
Rhys frowned. “I’m not like that.”
“Yeah, but you like her. I can tell.”
He shrugged. “She’s nice.”
“And she’s pretty…well…she will be when she gets some meat on her bones. But Laura’s also
been traumatized—even if she doesn’t show it. You treat her like you treat Shawnee, that girl just might break.”
“I don’t treat Shawnee bad.”
“No—you treat her like your plaything.”
“You kind of got it opposite, bro,” Rhys chuckled. “Didn’t you know? Shawnee’s the one who’s been playing with me…and not just me.”
My mouth dropped open with shock. “Shawnee’s fooling around?”
“We both were,” admitted Rhys. “What...you thought we were in love or something? Jacob—stop old-schooling us, bro. Me and Shawnee were just having some fun.”
Suddenly—I felt so ancient.
* * * *
“Well, that doesn’t look good.”
The slide had come down less than a mile from where we were staying. Even in the dark we could see that rocks and mud had been tossed across the valley floor. Houses, farms, roads—they were all gone, buried under a good ten feet of mountain.
“How are we going to get home now?” asked Rhys.
“I don’t know,” I said—feeling the dread build in my chest. “But we have to find a way. We’ve been gone so long…Kaylee is going to be so worried.”
And then—I coughed.
MAY
KAYLEE
It’s been 34 days since Jacob and his team left on their expedition.
We’ve heard nothing from them…not a word.
I feel like I have two faces right now—the one I use when I walk through the compound, when I sit at the Council table, when I laugh and talk with my friends. My other face is tortured—it cries at night, holding pillows to its lips to muffle terrified screams.
Where are you Jacob?
Please…I beg you…come home!
* * * *
There is a high point in the Point Dume Nature Preserve—a kind of knoll that towers above everything else. My father used to tell me that it had been used during the Second World War as a battery placement, a first defense against the rumored Japanese invasion that never came. Whether that was true or not, one thing was certain—on a clear day the views are astonishing from the knoll.
Facing toward the ocean, you look down on seal-covered rocks, rolling waves, and Catalina Island in the distance.
When you turn toward land, all of Point Dume lies spread out before you and, beyond that—the Santa Monica Mountains.
To your left—your eyes can follow the coastline—up past Zuma to Heaven’s Beach and even parts of Oxnard. And, on your right—the coastline curves along Malibu, into Pacific Palisades, then all the way to Santa Monica.
* * * *
During the time that Jacob and his team were gone, I would visit the knoll at least once a day. While my armed guards waited at the bottom, I would trudge slowly to the top, where I would stand quietly, facing the mountains—my eyes traveling northward along the Pacific Coast Highway, searching for movement.
For someone, anybody—coming home.
For Jacob.
* * * *
“I’d just be happy just to hear Jude call me Barbie again.”
“Or my sister to whack me on the head for stealing her pencils and shooting them in the air to see if they’d make good arrows.”
I turned to Shawnee, amused. “You tried to make arrows out of pencils?”
We were standing at the top of the knoll. Every few days, she would join me—sometimes with Wester—and we would scan the coastline for our loved ones. I supposed that Shawnee was also worried about Rhys, though it confused me that she rarely mentioned him.
“Cherry had a whole pack of these really hard pencils,” Shawnee told me. “So, I sharpened up a couple and made them fins out of some hard plastic. I mean, I’ve only got so many arrows, right.”
“So, you thought about making alternatives…smart.”
Shawnee nodded. “Only they don’t fly very well, though. And they don’t stick their landings too good, either.”
“Guess we’ll have to put more arrows on the next expedition’s find list.”
“If this one ever comes back,” she frowned, shading her eyes from the sun as she looked up toward Point Mugu. “They’ve been gone sooo long. I keep thinking they’ll be back when I wake up every morning, but it never happens.”
I put my arm around Shawnee’s shoulder. She had grown at least another inch in the last month and was now taller than me. “They’ll be back soon. I’m sure of it.”
“But why have they been gone so long?” she complained.
“I would expect that they had to go farther for supplies,” I shrugged. “That only makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Suppose so,” mumbled Shawnee. But she didn’t look convinced.
For that fact—neither was I.
No matter what I had told Shawnee, it didn’t make any sense at all that Jacob and his team hadn’t returned, yet.
Without a doubt, something had happened…something bad.
During the last two weeks, we had sent out five teams—each one taking a portion of Oxnard and Camarillo to search for any signs of our lost people. Not one came back with even a sighting.
It was as if Jacob and the others had simply disappeared into thin air.
The last search team to have gone out was Nate’s. He led five guys, including Xavier, into Oxnard. They followed the route that Jacob said he would be traveling, and eventually wound up at the hospital, where they were attacked by an unknown number of shooters. Bullets rained down on them from windows, chasing them away before they even had a chance to go through the main doors.
When Nate returned to the Point, he assured me that there was no way that Jacob’s team could have gained entrance but—secretly—I wondered if they had done just that.
Could our people—even now—be captives in that hospital?
And did I dare send others into the bullets to find out?
It was hard to know what I should do.
If Jacob and his team had reached the hospital and been fired upon, perhaps they had simply chosen to move on—heading up the coast, searching for other, less dangerous places to scavenge medical supplies. In that case, sending people into the hospital on a rescue mission would be a mistake. Lives could possibly be lost and, for that, I would never forgive myself.
Then again—if Jacob and his team were prisoners inside of the hospital, I would need to mount a rescue.
I was so confused; I desperately needed help to decide the next step.
Ironically—I needed Jacob.
* * * *
The one small bit of good news in the search for our people was that Larry—the sentry from Point Mugu—had actually made contact with two of the guys who lived at the Point Mugu Naval Station. Over the last few weeks, Larry had taken it upon himself to visit the base every few days. He never went past the gates—always staying well outside the range of the occupants’ rifles.
Instead, he would stand there—waving a white flag.
For two weeks, he had received no response. On the third week, two guys came outside of the gates to talk to him. It was a short meeting—just enough for Larry to let them know who we were and where we came from. He told them about the Crazies and what they were doing in the Valley.
The Naval Station guys, according to Larry, listened politely, then stated that they would like to be left alone. They had no plans on joining up with the Crazies, but neither did they want to join with the Locals. However, they would be open to talking now and again—as long as the Locals didn’t try and come onto the naval base.
Larry then asked them about Jacob and his team. He said that the Point Mugu guys had shaken their heads in answer to his questions—saying that our guys had not passed their way.
One of them did see a group riding bikes up near the river, however.
The guy couldn’t swear that it was our people, but he was certain that there were girls in the group. He said that they rode right by him; he was hidden behind a dumpster—on a scavenging trip—but, for what, he wouldn’t tell Larry.
> What he would say was that the group was heading toward Ventura, had actually mentioned the armory along the highway. The kid had followed them for a bit, but when the rain got bad, he eventually lost them when he took shelter under an eave.
* * * *
I took great comfort when Larry reported his story to the Council. No matter what anybody else might think, I knew that these were our guys.
Knowing that Jacob and the team had been seen heading up into Ventura meant they had made it past the shooters in the hospital. Most likely, our people were somewhere north of us—even now—slowly making their way back home.
Please hurry, Jacob.
We’ve been married for such a short time.
I miss having my husband by my side. Waking up in the morning without you is killing me.
* * * *
Even so—I had a tribe to lead.
And life on Point Dume continued.
While our main concern was still the Crazies, there had been very few sightings in the mountains or along the Pacific Coast Highway since Jacob had left. Perhaps it was due to the horrendous rain that we had been experiencing, but the Crazies seemed to be staying close to the Conejo Valley.
Not once had any of our people come into contact with a Crazy during the last month. If anything, the Crazies had moved their lines and their sentry posts farther back—away from the edges of Local territory.
It was as if they were redefining their borders—creating a buffer zone where either tribe could walk unmolested.
At least, it certainly seemed that way to some of us.
I, however—didn’t believe it.
* * * *
While our encounters with the Crazies lessened, that certainly wasn’t the case with our other wild neighbors. These days, you couldn’t walk down a road without seeing something feral scamper across in front of you. Rabbits and squirrels were everywhere, which—of course—increased the presence of the more dangerous animals that hunted them. It wasn’t unusual to see ferrets and coyotes walking along the sides of the mansions; and—although the sightings were still rare—mountain lions had become part of the Point Dume fauna.
