by Reed, N. C.
“We can make it work,” she finished firmly, nodding once as punctuation.
“What the hell,” Daisy was looking at her sister-in-law. “I'm in,” she shrugged. “I hear their house is a mess,” she turned back to Angela.
“It is, but don't worry about that,” Angela told her. “I’ll get enough people together to take care of that so that you don't start out behind. Meanwhile we need to let you all go through your things and start cleaning them and doing your laundry. Do you two feel up to that?”
“I do,” Jasmine stood. “I'd like to get out of here for a while,” she admitted.
“May as well,” Daisy stood with her. “Be nice to have some of my own stuff, assuming they could find any of it.”
We’ll just have to sort through it and see,” Angela said. “I have about four hours before I need to be back to empty my clay oven, so let’s see if we can round up some help, okay?”
CHAPTER TEN
-
Clay was honestly glad to see night fall. This had been a long day. He was working the response crew tonight on the late shift, so he hadn't even bothered to go home, choosing to hang out with the others in Building Two. He sat with Janice for a while in the radio room, listening to military frequencies. It was something he and Jose both had been doing of late, but so far, they'd heard nothing.
Clay firmly believed that at least some of the military apparatus had survived, but that didn't mean they were anywhere around Peabody. There was no regular military presence nearby so it was long odds they would see or hear a regular unit at all. But there was nothing that said National Guard units, or at least rogue elements of them couldn't be out and moving. Again, Clay didn't think anywhere near their area or they would probably have already either leveled Holman or else teamed up with him.
But listening gave them something to do. He wondered where Jose was at the moment.
-
“Are you going to speak to me, mamacita, or just keep ignoring me?” Jose asked softly in Spanish. Martina was at the sink cleaning dishes from supper.
“Why ask me to go with you only to foist me off on someone else?” she didn't bother to turn around as she replied in Spanish as well. “I was having a good time being with you right up until you shoved me in with the others.”
“I had something I had to do and I didn't want you to be there,” he replied honestly. “I didn't want you to see it,” he added. At that she stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him.
“What did you do?” she asked him, head cocked to one side.
“Talbot was threatening the woman and her kids,” Jose refused to lie. “He also threatened us. Threatened to find someone who wanted information about us and tell them whatever he knew if it helped to destroy us.”
Her eye widened at such a threat. How could a man do something like that to a woman he claimed to love?
“What did you do?” she repeated, less of a challenge this time.
“I made sure he couldn't do that,” Jose looked her straight in the face as he replied.
“By killing him?” Martina asked softly.
“Yes,” was his simple reply.
“I see,” Martina sighed.
“And that's why I didn't want you to be there,” Jose admitted. “I promised. . .I swore to do whatever I had to do, regardless of what it was to keep you, Robby and Rae safe. Whatever it is,” he stressed. “He was a threat. He had to go. I didn't want you to see me do something like that,” he admitted.
“Why?” she asked, and this time there was a hint of challenge in her voice.
“Martina, would you want me to see you do something that you were afraid would make me hate you?” he asked. “Or would you try to make sure I didn't have to watch?”
“I could never hate you, idiot,” she snorted. “I'm not weak or squeamish. I sleep beside you. I've heard you talking in your sleep, mi corazon. I know what you've done, at least some of it. If I were going to hate you or leave you because of that we'd never have been together at all. Have some faith in me, hombre,” she smiled ever so faintly as she crossed the distance between them and hugged him.
Right before she lifted her knee into his groin.
“Don't ever do that to me again,” she told him even as he doubled over, groaning. It hadn't been a hard blow, just enough to get his attention.
Which it had.
“I am not a fragile flower you must protect, Pancho Juarez. I ride with you, then I stay with you. Comprende?”
“Si,” Jose groaned. “That was so wrong,” he added, standing carefully.
“Just as wrong as dumping me off on others,” Martina refused to give an inch. “I am your woman, Jose. Good or bad, come what may. You do not need to hide from me. I am made of better stuff than that. Do not forget again.”
“Don't worry,” he muttered over the pain of his aching manhood. “I won't.”
-
Leon had struggled to get into the house after the long trip to the Talbot's. Brick had finally had to help him get inside, where as soon as Leon had used the bathroom he had sank gratefully into his chair and slipped his oxygen mask over his head.
“Leon, you must stop exerting yourself this way,” Brick told him. It was just him and Leon for the moment. Janice Hardy was on her way to the radio room by now and Marla Jones was helping at the orphanage building with the Jessup children. It was quiet in the house, for once.
“Expla. . .explain to me, th. . .then, how I get anything do. . .done,” Leon gasped from behind the mask.
“You're going to have to start having those things brought to you rather than going to them,” Brick said flatly. “You can't keep doing this, Leon.”
“Gonna die anyway,” Leon shot back. “Might as well w... work until then.”
“My point being that if you die now, Clayton is left with a mess,” Brick refused to yield. “You're thrusting the mantle of leadership on him, but he needs time to grow into it. He is used to leading soldiers. . .no, he's used to leading killers,” he corrected. “He is accustomed to dealing with problems by eliminating them. All of them are. You want him to take your place someday? Then you have to teach him how. He barely knows most of the people on the hill. Those are your people, Leon, not his. Throwing away the time you have left instead of using it to the best possible advantage is practically asking for Clay to fail.”
Leon said nothing but he was clearly thinking about what Brick had said. The big man had made a lot of sense and Leon knew it. He just hated to admit it.
“I'm tired Byron,” he said finally. “I'm tired, I'm in pain and I miss my wife. I'm surrounded by dumb asses who can't tie their shoes with a diagram to show them how. While I may not have accomplished all I wanted to, I've done a fair bit.”
“I'm not arguing that,” Brick kept up the pressure despite Leon's plea. “But you have to follow through with this, Leon. Clay had a plan that he was comfortable with, and you changed it. You did that Leon. Now that you've done it, you can't undo it, so that means you have to work out the kinks and make sure Clay can handle it when you're gone.”
Brick didn't bother trying to encourage Leon or telling him that the place couldn't manage without him or any of the other empty platitudes that most people would have tried to use. They were meaningless and Brick didn't do or say meaningless things.
“You’ll be here for him, won't you?” Leon asked suddenly. “Help him the way you always helped me?”
“I seriously doubt he'd need the kind of help I gave you, Leon,” Brick raised an eyebrow at that. “But yes. I plan to stay, and to support him however I can. I like your grandson and respect him. As much for how he treated Lainie as how he has handled things here.”
“Still carrying that torch for Lainie, are you?” Leon teased. Brick chuckled, his bulk shaking with laughter.
“I'm too much like you, Leon,” he replied. “One-woman man, and my woman is gone. There won't be another. But I have always liked Lainie. She was the reason you sent me there anyway. Re
member?”
“I recall,” Leon nodded. It was nice to have the chance to reminisce without having to guard what he said. “And it was for you as much as her. You had reached a point where you needed a break.”
“I suppose that's true,” Brick admitted, inclining his head once in agreement. “I actually enjoyed working at the club. It was restful most of the time.”
It said a great deal about a man that he would think of handling security in a large strip club that often doubled as a distribution center for dubious materials as 'restful'.
“I’ll try to ease up,” Leon said suddenly. “I don't have many more trips like that in me, I admit. Best I save 'em, I guess, for when I really need 'em.”
“A wise decision.”
-
“This place was a wreck,” Amy Mitchell said quietly as she finished. She, Teri Hartwell, Lila Webb and Malitha George had just finished cleaning the Jessup cabin. To say it was bad was the height of understated conversation.
“We can't keep ignoring stuff like this,” Malitha said as she sat down, wincing as her back straightened. “We're isolating ourselves even when there are people right next to us. We can't keep going like this. If we don't pull together we're going to end up like. . .end up falling into the mud,” she changed her sentence at the last second as she remembered that Lila was there. She was about to say 'end up like the Webbs'.
“Tomorrow will help,” Amy said firmly. “We start doing things like that, and maybe mixing the work details more, and that will force us all to share more. To be more aware of each other. We just have to work at it, that's all.”
“I know so few people,” Teri Hartwell ventured to say. “I only barely know you,” she said to Amy, “and we live in the same building. I was only here for the semester as an intern. I'm from well above Knoxville.”
“Don't worry, sweetie,” Malitha George levered her aching back up from her chair. “We're going to do what Amy said. We're all going to be friends and neighbors, just like we should be. Like we have to be. I promise you won't be left out.”
-
“Going to stay up with the cow?” Robert asked his father.
“I reckon I’ll let Gordy and Samantha do that,” Gordon chuckled softly. “They need some time to themselves where they can relax. Maybe this will give it to them. And it will let me get to bed,” he admitted as he climbed to his feet. “She’ll be done well before noon tomorrow, I'd say,” he nodded to the cow slowly rotating on the spit. “Should be some good eating, too.”
“Mom, Alicia and Lainie have made enough bread to feed the Israelites as they wandered the desert,” Robert chuckled. “Still got bread cooking, in fact.”
“Yeah, I don't think they're entirely pleased by that,” Gordon laughed with his son. “I expect to have a frosty reception when I get home.”
“Well, I'm for bed myself,” Robert agreed. “I agreed to help with the radio room, so I’ll have a watch around five in the morning. Need to get my beauty rest before then.”
“You and me both, son,” Gordon laughed as he saw his grandson and his young woman making their way out to the fire. “You and me both.”
-
Alicia practically stumbled into her house long after dark. She was exhausted and it frustrated her. Sixteen years was enough time to forget what she had gone through with her first pregnancy.
“You okay?” Ronny asked from the doorway to the living room.
“Just tired,” she nodded, slipping her shoes off. “I'd forgotten how tired being pregnant makes you.”
“Get all your bread made?” he asked, changing the subject. There was nothing he could do about her being tired. Or pregnant.
“Last loaves are in the clay oven. About six hours until they're ready. We’ll bake the last few loaves in the morning with those solar ovens, but we should have enough anyway with what's in the clay oven right now. The extra will just go home with us for later.”
“Come lay down and I’ll give you a back rub,” he offered. “Might make you feel better.”
“I will gladly accept,” she smiled tiredly.
-
Zach was about to go to sleep when he heard the sound of an ATV outside. He ignored it until the engine stopped, sounding as if it were just outside his small cabin. When the Webb family had departed, he'd taken the offer of a small cabin to himself, glad to have room of his own. The rest had stayed where they were for the time being but he was ready to have some privacy, for more reasons than one.
He was on his way to see what was happening when there was a knock at his door. Taking his pistol, he stepped to the door and opened it.
“So, is that a pistol, or are you just glad to see me?” Vicki Tully asked impishly. He laughed, shaking his head as he opened the door wider to let her in. She surprised him by bringing two bags with her.
“What's this?” he asked her.
“What does it look like?” she retorted as she set the bags down. “I'm moving in with you.”
“You are?” Zach's face betrayed his surprise at that, but it obviously didn't shock him as she had intended to.
“I am,” she nodded firmly. “Now go get the rest of my stuff,” she ordered. Still laughing he slipped the pistol into his belt behind his back and stepped outside to retrieve the remainder of her gear, including an M249 in a hard-plastic case.
“You take this with you everywhere, do you?” he asked as he set the gun down on the floor.
“Of course,” she replied. “Why wouldn't I?”
“No reason, I suppose,” he shrugged. “So, what made you decide on this life changing course of action?” he asked, looking at her with curiosity.
“No idea,” she admitted. “No, that's not true,” she corrected herself at once. “What I have no idea about it how I got where I am.”
“You drove an ATV up the hill,” Zach pointed out only to have her smack him in the arm.
“That's not what I meant, jackass, and I'm sure you know it,” she almost growled and he laughed even as he rubbed his arm. “I meant how I ended up shacking up with a kid eight years younger than I am.”
“So, you're twenty-seven then,” Zach said at once, nodding. “I knew I'd find out sooner or later.”
“You're hopeless,” Vicki sighed. She surprised him by leaning against him, her forehead managing to come only to his chest, the top of her head beneath his chin.
“Well, I suppose that's accurate enough,” he embraced her. “What made you decide this was the way to go?”
“No idea,” she admitted. “It... .it just seemed like the right thing to do. Is this a problem for you?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Nope,” he replied at once. “I'm good with it. I only have one bed though, so you’ll have to sleep on the floor. I hope that- ow!” he cut off as her fist slammed into his stomach, doubling him over.
“Don't be a wise ass,” she told him. “I'm being serious here and you're cracking jokes!”
“It's what I do,” he groaned out. “Can't help it. I already said I didn't have a problem with it. What else was there to say?”
“Oh, I don't know,” sarcasm dripped from her tone. “Something endearing perhaps? Meaningful and touching?”
“That sounds like drama,” Zach replied at once. “I don't do drama, remember, and you won't toler-, OW!” he was cut off again as she punched him in the side.
“It's a good thing you can't reach my head,” he told her. “That might have broke my jaw.”
“At least then you'd be quiet,” she snorted, hugging him again. He cautiously returned it, obviously waiting for her to hit him again. She laughed into his chest at his hesitation.
“I'm through,” she promised. “You're seriously okay with this?”
“Sure,” he said at once. “Did you think I wouldn't be?”
“I didn't know one way or the other,” she shrugged. “Figured this was one sure way to find out.”
“Well, mission accomplished then,” he told her. “What now?”
<
br /> “Now we celebrate.”
-
Lainie decided to go and visit Clay since she had to check on the bread soon anyway. She had made her way to Building Two where she found him spinning through radio frequencies, listening intently to. . .nothing.
“E.T. not calling?” she asked with a soft laugh as she saw him sitting there.
“No one is calling,” he sounded frustrated. “Someone should be there. Somewhere.”
“Maybe no one has a radio that works,” she shrugged, sitting down next to him.
“There's no way we have the only working radios in the country,” he shook his head. “All I can figure is that everyone is using radio silence. But that doesn't make a lot of sense either, since people by now should be out looking for supplies if they can find them.” He looked at her suddenly and grinned.
“So, leave your baker's hat in the kitchen?” he teased.
“I promised your mother and sister that I would watch the bread we still have in the oven so they could rest,” she grimaced. “It's not that I mind it, but while you're waiting for six hours to get to the finished product there is exactly nothing to do. Technically, I could go and sleep, but I'm down now to…” she checked her watch, “…four hours and fifty-eight minutes, so I can't see the point.”
“Makes sense,” Clay nodded. “I have to be here another four hours, myself, so we’ll both be done about the same time. Lucky us.”
“Just enough to time to get a short nap and clean up before the festivities start,” Lainie sighed. “I’ll be give out before it even starts.”
“My poor little chef,” Clay teased, kissing her on the nose.
-
The day was clear, thankfully. The sunrise was spectacular for those who were awake to see it, which was about half the farm's population, the rest still trying to rest at least some. While the pall of yesterday's events, including the sad little funeral late that afternoon as the sun was sinking, still hung over the farm, people were determined to try and have a good day, despite that.
Gordon, Robert and Ronny relieved Gordy and Sam at the beef just about sunup, Gordy telling them that he had used a meat thermometer in a dozen places that told him the meat was all but done. As a result, he had added only one small final layer of cut and split hickory wood to effectively flavor the meat and finish it off. Gordon checked it himself and nodded his approval of Gordy's actions.
