by Nancy Isaak
“What about Jacob?” asked a 13-year old from Carpinteria, who had been with the Locals for about five months. “Is there any way that we could send someone to get him?”
I shook my head. “Jacob and his team are still missing. I’d give anything for that to be different but…it is what it is.”
“Then, maybe we should just run,” suggested the same 13-year old. Other guys around him began to nod their heads.
“Bwack-bwack-bwack…” It was Pauly, quietly clucking like a chicken.
The kid from Carpinteria had the good grace to look embarrassed.
“Was just saying,” Pauly shrugged.
“Look,” I said, moving around the edges of the cage’s roof. “I know that some of you are scared. I know that I’m scared…I’m terrified. But—I’m also angry. In fact, I’m furious!”
I bent down and picked up the jelly jar of black paint. Moving to the middle of the cage’s roof, I stood there—facing the tribe. They had gone quiet, watching me carefully. I supposed that the sight of the jelly jar had confused them.
“This land,” I yelled, waving my arm to indicate Point Dume. “This land, this point, this is our home…our house!”
Slowly, I began to open the jelly jar, holding it up so everyone could see. My eyes met with Jay’s; she looked just as confused as everyone else.
“These Crazies,” I called out to the crowd. “They think that they can come into our house without an invitation…without our permission!”
I dipped two of my fingers into the black paint. Separating them, I drew two black lines—one above and one below my left eye.
“But nobody comes into our house uninvited!”
The fingers went back into the black paint. This time the lines went above and below my right eye.
“Nobody comes onto our land without our say so!”
I handed the jar of paint down to Pauly, who quickly outlined his own eyes.
“Because they might think they’re crazy.”
Pauly passed the jar onto Florenza who followed suit, eagerly dipping her fingers into the paint.
“They might think they can scare us, that they can terrorize us…that they can cannibalize us.”
The jar moved on—passing through the Locals, each guy outlining his eyes.
“But then they haven’t met the Locals. They haven’t met us! Because we protect our home, we protect our brothers and sisters! We protect the Point!”
From somewhere in the back of the crowd, voices were beginning to chant softly. “Fight…fight…fight.”
I held my right hand up high, my two blackened fingers spread into a ‘V’ that I drew across my eyes once more, following my paint lines.
“This is our declaration of war!” I yelled. “This is the day we will place terror in the hearts of evil! This is the day we save our way of life! This is the day we save our home! This is the day we look crazy directly in the eye and tell it…ENOUGH!”
The chant became stronger; more voices joined in. “Fight, fight, fight, fight...”
“We are Locals,” I shouted. “And this is the day—WE FIGHT!”
* * * *
At that precise moment, they ceased being my friends.
Kieran, Pauly, Shawnee, Cammie, Florenza, Jay, Porter, Nate, Xavier—they became my ‘officers’.
As long as we were at war, there would be no democracy. It didn’t matter that I was absolutely terrified. This tribe had become my responsibility and I was determined to keep it safe.
Even if it meant becoming a dictator.
Even if it meant killing.
* * * *
We met inside of the mansion’s ballroom.
My guards posted themselves just outside of the huge double doors as my officers assembled in front of me for their instructions.
“We need to remember that whatever the Crazies are planning,” I began, “that it just might be misdirection. Remember that Brandon used misdirection once before to kidnap Rhys.”
“You think that they might want to kidnap someone?” asked Kieran, looking around at everybody—as if trying to figure out who could be the intended victim.
I shook my head. “Not really. But we still should keep that in the back of our minds…just in case. Which means that I want every kid on this Point to have eyes in the back of his head because…nobody gets taken on my watch!”
“We should probably have everyone in twos,” suggested Jay. “It’d be safer and would make it harder for anyone to be kidnapped.”
“Good idea,” I said. “And Pauly—you’re making sure that everyone is armed?”
He nodded. “I’ve got guys on it.”
“What’s our ammo situation like?”
“We’ve actually got quite a bit,” he grinned. “Like these Liberal lefties on Point Dume were seriously carrying, man.”
“I’m not surprised,” I admitted. “Even my dad has a lot of guns. The rich on the Point live by rules a whole lot different than the rest of us. Still, make sure that everyone knows to conserve their ammunition. If we get surrounded and pushed into the compound, we won’t know how long we’ll have to hold out.”
There was a paper list on the armrest beside me—one that I had drawn up while I was walking back from the cage toward the mansion.
I consulted it now, checking off an item. “Next business—I need eyes on the ground. I want to know how many Crazies are coming from what directions.” I pointed to Pauly. “Take a horse and at least one of your guys for back-up. Get me that information ASAP.”
Pauly gave Florenza a quick peck on the cheek and then rose to leave.
“Hold on,” I said, stopping him. “Wherever you travel, Pauly—I want it without a shirt. You make sure that Crazy tattoo of yours is exposed. All of our guys know you by sight, so you’ll be okay traveling that way through our territory. But if you come up against Crazies on the road, I want them to think that you’re one of their own.”
Pauly saluted and walked out of the room.
I turned to Kieran. “We need to know what the Stars know.”
“No problem,” he said. “I can head up to the water tower immediately. See if Brent or Han have left a message. If not, Alice lives pretty close—she might have some answers.”
“Not you,” I said, shaking my head. “You’ll be of more use to me here right now.”
“What about Nate?” suggested Kieran.
“Nate will be out on the water.”
“Xav, too?” asked Nate, from where he and his brother stood to my far left.
“Yes…I want you and Xavier to paddle far enough out that you’ll be able to see anyone coming up the highway from the south. But keep your eyes on the water, too. I wouldn’t put it past the Foxes to send guys up from Topanga in boats.”
“We’ll need a watcher upon the knoll to pass on any alarm,” said Nate.
“Absolutely” I nodded. “And make sure that you all have trumpets so you can communicate back and forth.”
Beside Nate, Xavier looked worried. His cat, Kanga—sitting on his shoulder—looked equally alarmed; his fur was tufted behind his neck, his eyes wide and wary.
“And get that cat into a carrier and down to the garage,” I ordered. “We can’t have Kanga wandering around camp if we go into battle.”
As if he knew that I was talking about him, the tiny calico arched his back and growled.
* * * *
Once Nate and Xavier had left the ballroom, I turned back to Kieran. “Get two guys from one of the Alpha Teams and send them up to the water tower to contact the Stars. And let your guys know about Alice, in case they need to go to her place. Wyatt just finished tattooing some of the newer guys and none of them are known to the Crazies, so choose from them. Just make sure that they don’t travel on Encinal. Send them up Decker Canyon or, better yet, have them go overland.”
“Right away.” Kieran gave Cammie’s hand a quick squeeze and hurried out of the ballroom.
I turned to Shawnee next. She hadn’t said
a single word all this time—simply waited, her hands continuously worrying her bow. “Distribute your Raiders along Pacific Coast Highway, directly across from the entrance to the Point. I want you up on the hills, in the trees, on top of the buildings. Stay hidden and don’t shoot unless either Pauly, Kieran, or I order you to.”
“What do we do if we see Crazies?” she asked.
“If they’re coming after you, take them out. Otherwise—let them pass.”
She looked confused, but was a good enough soldier to not disagree. “Do you want me to report back?”
“You or one of your guys—every hour. I want to know what you’re seeing—how many are coming, which way, and how close they are to the Point.”
Shawnee nodded and strung the bow across her back.
“And Shawnee,” I added, “use your best judgment. You’ve got your orders, but if you see something you think you can take care of—do it.”
She didn’t say a word—merely nodded again, and left the ballroom.
* * * *
“I didn’t see them at the cage,” said Cammie.
“That’s why I want you to go to the farm,” I told the redhead. “Most likely Frank and Peyton heard the alarm and are digging in—preparing for the Crazies. But if they haven’t, they need to be warned. And let them know that I’d rather they and their guys come into the compound where it will be easier for us to protect them.”
“What about me, chief?” asked Florenza. “You got something for me to do?”
“A couple of things. First, I want you to go home. Find Hannah and Lily and bring them to the compound, if they’re not here already.”
“They weren’t at the cage?”
“If they were, I didn’t see them. The second thing I want you to do is to get all of the animals down into the underground garage. And make sure that you take their beds, cages, food—that sort of thing.”
“The horses, too?”
“Every one that isn’t being used. We’ve already stowed horse feed down there, so you won’t have to worry about that. But I want their saddles and bridles beside them so they’ll be easy to take when they’re needed.”
“Easy-peasy,” she said.
“Have Lily and Hannah help you with the animals. They know what to do because they’ve been practicing. And make sure the girls stay in the garage. Tell them they’re not allowed to come out until one of us says that it’s safe.”
“You want me to stay with them?” asked Florenza.
I shook my head. “Once you’ve got everyone settled, I want you back for further instructions.”
Florenza headed for the door. She turned at the jamb, grinning at me. “I’m guessing you want me totally armed.”
“Totally,” I nodded, understanding that she was talking about her razor blade. “Make sure the girls have their pepper spray, too.”
“Guns?”
“Good god, no,” I said. “I love those two, but Hannah and Lily would probably shoot themselves or, worse, take out Pugly.”
* * * *
It was just Jay and Porter left in the room. They were side-by-side, first aid kits at their feet.
“Obviously, you guys are in charge of anything medical,” I said. “I know that you’ve still got sick guys in the clinic.”
“Sixteen,” said Porter.
“Well, I want you to move them down into the garage now. Take some guys and carry them if you have to, beds and everything.”
“We’ve already sent the ones who can walk there,” said Jay. “We’ve got seven left who can’t move on their own, though.”
“Get them there now,” I ordered. “And take whatever else you need—medicine, bandages, that sort of thing. You’ll be working out of the garage until this thing is over.”
“What if we have to evacuate?” asked Porter.
“Good question,” I said, thinking. “Divide up your medical supplies and put some of them down in the boats at the bottom of the cliff. That way, if we have to evacuate, you’ll only have to worry about your patients.”
“But if the Crazies come,” fretted Jay, “how do we get our guys down the cliff?”
“We’ve got two entrances to the garage. One is on the mansion’s ground, behind the wall—and the other one outside of it. We’ll simply have to draw the Crazies into the compound and then evacuate, using the outside entrance before they breach the inner walls. Then, if we can, we’ll use the block and tackle to get the guys down the cliff. Otherwise, we’ll just have to use the streets down to Westward Beach.”
I motioned toward one of my guards who was looking in from the doorway. “Take two guys,” I told him. “I want you to head to the far entrance of the underground garage—the one that comes up outside of the walls. Pull up brushes, branches—anything you guys can find to camouflage that entrance. But make sure that whatever you put in front of it can be pushed aside from inside of the garage, in case we need to evacuate.”
As the guard exited, I turned back to Porter and Jay. “It’s a long shot but, if the Crazies don’t know the entrance is there—worse comes to worst—we’ll have a better chance at evacuating everyone.”
“How’s our water supply in the garage?” asked Porter. “Do we need to stock up?”
“Do it anyway,” I told him. “We’ve already filled up three of the septic tanks and stowed them in the garage. But, if we’re under siege, who knows how long we’ll be there and how many of us will need to be supplied. So, I say fill up everything you can with water and put it in the garage. It will get drunk eventually.”
“Plus the animals will need water,” added Jay.
“What about the creek itself? How are we guarding that?” asked Porter.
“I’ve already assigned a team to it. It’s only four guys but, frankly, if the Crazies get that far, we’ll probably be evacuating anyway.”
Crumpling up my list, I stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…I have a war to run.”
* * * *
When I came out into the compound, I was pleased to find that the panic had been replaced with a certain determination. The Locals still looked scared, but they had jobs to do now; there seemed to be no room for hysteria anymore.
Guys moved swiftly through the courtyard—some of them carrying weapons and ammunition, others passing out bottles of water and granola bars—all of them bearing two black lines, one above and one below their eyes.
A young kid passed by me—no more than nine or ten. I hadn’t met him before, or if I had—I didn’t remember. He was carrying a rifle longer than he was tall, the stock dragging on the ground behind him.
“Where are you going?” I asked him. “What’s your name?”
The kid couldn’t speak for a moment. He looked embarrassed, shy to be talking to me—perhaps because I was the leader, perhaps because I was a girl.
“Callum,” he finally squeaked.
“And where are you taking that rifle, Callum?”
“It’s okay. I know how to shoot it,” he told me, pushing the rifle behind him, as if afraid that I would take it away. He had freckles and a head of long, blond hair that hung down to his shoulders.
I crossed my arms, staring down at him, sternly. “Where are you assigned, Callum?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know…I don’t remember.”
“Take him down into the garage,” I instructed one of my guards. “He can help guard the animals. And when you’re done, I want you to get a list of the younger guys from Porter—everyone ten and under. They’ll all do guard duty at the garage.”
I turned back to Callum. “Do you understand your orders?”
“Yes,” he said in his squeaky voice.
“Then, I expect you to be there when I check up on you. If you’re not…” I loomed over him, trying to look strict. “…into the cage with you!”
As the guard led a wide-eyed Callum away, I had a hard time keeping from snickering. The kid looked so tiny compared to his rifle. I hoped that he really did know how to shoot it.<
br />
Then, I wondered if maybe I should have someone take it away for his own safety.
Moments later, I heard my name called.
When I turned and saw the look on Cammie’s face, all thoughts of little boys and their big guns disappeared from my overworked brain.
* * * *
“Peyton,” I growled. “I really don’t need this right now!”
She shrugged. “Boys are stupid…what can I say?”
I was sitting on Beauty—my guards fanned out behind me—looking down at Peyton. She was wearing actual overalls and a flannel shirt—yet, somehow, she still managed to make them seem stylish.
Lance stood beside Peyton, wearing his own pair of overalls. His, however, were covered in dirt, the knees frayed and coming apart.
Frank, meanwhile, was farther off—running through his lettuce field, along with two of his workers. He was carrying a large plastic container, stumbling against its obvious weight.
“Just because Frank won’t come into the compound,” I told Peyton, “it doesn’t mean that you have to stay behind.”
“Yeah, I know…but I’m still going to stay.”
“But Frank doesn’t even allow guns here.” I threw up my hands in frustration. “I understand that he wants to be a pacifist but, if the Crazies come, you guys won’t be able to defend yourselves.”
“Like I said…boys are stupid.” Peyton turned and smiled down at Lance. “No offense, kiddo.”
“It’s okay,” he said, quietly. “We mostly are.”
Out in the field Frank and his guys had stopped running. Now, they were maneuvering the plastic container into a hole in the ground.
“They’re burying the seeds,” explained Peyton. “Frank says that it’s his Noah’s Ark of the farm world. It’s his way of protecting the farm.”
“It’s fricking Tupperware!” I growled. “Just bring it into the compound! That’s how he can protect it.”
