Desolated

by Lou Cadle

  “By power you mean guns?”

  “Guns, numbers. The horses. The horses alone.” She hadn’t thought about it before but, remembering how big the horses seemed when she was right next to them, she realized it was true. “Even without a gun, they could ride you down, trample you to death. Or leave you so broken you wished you were dead.” She leaned forward, and reached over to push back a strand of Zoe’s hair that had come loose from her braid. “Rape can do that too. It can make you wish you were dead. I don’t want you ever feeling like that.”

  “I don’t want to be dead. I don’t want anyone here to die. That’s why it feels like cowardice to hide from those men. If we fight, we all fight. Even Brandie. Even C.J.”

  “I’ve told his father to keep him safe. If it comes to that, if we fight, and we’re losing, I begged Curt to run with your brother. I want you to go with them too.”

  “I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t leave Dad or Gramps or you or Pilar here. Not Joan or Misha. Nobody.”

  “Okay,” Sierra said.

  After a half-minute of silence, Zoe said, “Okay? That’s it? No more arguing?”

  “No,” Sierra said. “You’re a grown woman. You run your own life. I wanted to make sure you knew what you’re risking.” It made her feel sick to give up the fight, but her words were nothing less than the truth. Zoe had to make her own decisions.

  And if any of those men touched her, Sierra would make them pay. She had hoped to never harm another human being for the whole rest of her life, but when it came to her children, that promise to herself could fly right out the window and all the way to the planet Venus. Whatever the personal cost, however many nightmares she suffered afterward, nothing could be worse than watching her children hurt.

  If it was either her life or Zoe’s or C.J.’s, or even her father’s, there was no contest. She’d die to protect those she loved. And in the moment, she’d probably die to protect anyone in the neighborhood. Those boys in the barn were like step-children to her. Dev, Joan, Curt, Misha, Emily, Nina—which of them would she not die to protect?

  “What’s wrong?” Zoe said. “Are you mad at me? You look mad.”

  “Not one bit. I’m resolved. And I’m sad that we’re going to have to fight again. I had hoped to live out my life in peace.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “No. I won’t put myself in harm’s way. You don’t have to worry about me being stupid about it. But I won’t let them steal the farm out from under me without putting up a fight. And you wouldn’t either.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?”

  Sierra smiled. “You could tell me how you’re doing in general.”

  “I’m fine. Or I was, until this.” The sunlight was fading, but her frown was clear from her voice. “You know, I was a bit bored before this. In no way am I saying I wanted trouble, but at least I’m not bored anymore.”

  “Silver linings,” Sierra said, forcing her tone to be light. “I’m glad there is one.”

  “There are probably more. We just haven’t had a chance to see them yet.” She stood. “I want to go check on Dad.”

  “Is he sick?”

  “No. He was digging up those things—grenades. I haven’t heard an explosion, so I assume he’s okay.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t hang over his shoulder while he was.”

  “I tried to, but you know Dad. See you tomorrow. Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.”

  Sierra couldn’t see how. She watched Zoe until she couldn’t see her, and then listened to her footsteps until they too faded away.

  It was too easy to imagine running after her, tackling her, and dragging her away, miles and miles, locking her in an imaginary castle hidden ten miles deep in the woods, keeping her safe. But there were no hidden castles, and even if there were, Sierra wouldn’t do that to her grown daughter.

  Letting go was hard.

  Chapter 13

  Some people weren’t so sure about attacking the men. “Maybe it won’t be so bad,” Wanda said.

  Joan said, “We could wait until they actually threatened us.”

  His father’s was the strongest voice on the side of attacking, of course. “If we wait until then, they won’t give us the chance.” They were all in the Quinn yard again, having what was becoming a regular meeting about this new threat.

  Yasmin said, “Why are you so sure of that?”

  “They want what we have,” Sierra said.

  Luke said, “Then why not take it? Kill us right now, strip the land of food, take the hens to their headquarters, do—” He flushed. “Do whatever they want with the girls and be done with it in a day?”

  Sierra had told Dev what she’d gotten out of Luke about what the men had been talking about, regarding the young women. It had been a crude discussion of body parts, which Luke had said was like listening to normal people talk about what piece of chicken they wanted for dinner. When they had realized the boys were within hearing range, they’d shut up.

  And none of it surprised Dev. Disgusted him, yes. But he’d seen the looks from the men.

  Sierra said, “They don’t take everything now because they want us to do the work. Sure, they could take this year’s harvest and the hens, but do they want to be chicken farmers? Or any kind of farmers? No. If they did, they wouldn’t have started their army. Or joined it.”

  Joan said, “Do you think they all joined? Or are there conscripts among them?”

  “No,” Dev said. “I wouldn’t trust a conscript with a gun. Especially if I’d just hurt someone they cared for.”

  “Too bad,” Joan said. “I was thinking we could turn one of them against the rest of them. This whole business is increasing our work more than I thought, hiding food, getting our hens on a brooding schedule different than normal, staying prepared for them to arrive at any time.”

  Arch slammed his hand on the table. “You people don’t realize, they’ve done this before. Many times. They know exactly how to string people along, make them think it isn’t going to get bad. But it will get bad. Before long, we’ll be like slave laborers for them, growing their food and having precious little to eat ourselves.”

  “We already have precious little,” Pilar said. “I don’t know that we can spare any.”

  Troy said, “But that cheese was good.”

  Joan said, “I know, but no amount of cheese, or luxury goods of any sort, are worth giving up your freedom.”

  Pilar said, “Nor are they worth going to bed hungry every single night. We had nights like that. All of us.”

  Rod said, “Misha and I have a plan.”

  All eyes turned to them, and Dev noticed the hope on many faces.

  “Not a solution, sorry. I didn’t mean to get your hopes up,” Rod said. “But we’ve been talking about what was said before and think it’s worth it to take a trip to Payson, and that other place too. We’ve both met some of the people as kids, so better us than the people from Payson, who haven’t ever met Wes and them.”

  Pilar said, “That’s a good idea, but maybe it should be me and Joan. We’re older. We probably do less work around here.”

  “No offense,” Rod said, “but with your limp—and don’t deny it, because I’ve seen you limp when you work hard—I don’t think a round trip like that is going to do you any favors.”

  Sierra said, “I could go with you, Rod. It’s unfair to have two people from the same household go. It puts a burden on Joan and Emily.”

  Nina spoke up, a rare occurrence. She’d adopted her mother’s silent ways. “I do my share.”

  Sierra said, “Of course you do. I didn’t mean to exclude you.”

  Emily put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder and Nina smiled up at her, a sweet smile that made Dev suddenly miss Zoe’s childhood with a fierce pang.

  Rod said, “If one of you guys from the barn can come over and stay while we’re gone, that’d help out
a lot.”

  “Sure,” said Luke. “I’d be happy to. Especially if I can use your hammock. Always thought it’d be fun to sleep in it.”

  “Of course,” Rod said. “Everything of mine is yours for the duration.”

  Dev said, “What are you going to say to them down the hill?”

  Joan spoke at the same time. “How long will you be gone?”

  Misha answered that question first. “We figure five days to a week.”

  Dev said, “What if Vargas’s men come and notice you’re gone?”

  “I doubt they know exactly how many we are, or recognize faces,” Rod said. “And if they ask, you just say we’re out hunting. That actually does happen, after all.”

  “It’s none of their business,” Arch said. “We don’t have to answer for anyone’s whereabouts.” He scowled. “I wish I was healthy enough to come with you.”

  “I wish you were too, Arch,” Rod said.

  Pilar said, “I don’t like risking our medic.”

  Rod said, “We talked about that too. But honestly, we’ll probably be safer traveling than you all are waiting here.”

  “If things haven’t changed out there,” Joan said. Clearly, she was worried. “What if Wes’s people shoot at you?”

  “They’ll still recognize a white flag,” Sierra said. “And Joan and I can write notes. Or give you verbal messages to memorize, in case they don’t recognize you. You were both, what, teenagers when we were last down there?”

  “We saw Rudy,” Misha said. “When he came up about the epidemic orphans.” She smiled in apology around the table. “Our extended family now, orphans then.”

  Brandie said, “We don’t mind the word. We’re all still orphans, after all, no matter how nice you all were to take us in.”

  Troy said, “She’s been feeling her lack of a mother since she got pregnant.”

  “I can speak for myself,” she snapped at him. “But he’s right. I have been.”

  Sierra said, “Anything you want to know about being pregnant, you ask me, okay? I’m always here for you.”

  Brandie smiled at Sierra, a little sadly.

  Pilar brought them back to the main topic. “Like Dev asked, what are you going to say to them?”

  Rod shrugged. “We haven’t come up with a great plan—no offense, Dev, to your or Arch’s ideas so far. Maybe they have. Maybe the three groups can work together somehow on their great plan.”

  “Tell them we have a few grenades,” Dev said, “though we have no idea if they’ll work or not.”

  “Is that okay with everyone? I mean, what if they’re more on Vargas’s side than ours?” Rod said.

  Dev said, feeling admiration for Rod, “I guess the two of you have been talking about this.”

  Misha said, “We tried to think of every possibility. They’re against us. They shoot bullets or arrows at us. They’re all dead. Everything we could think of, we’ve talked about how to handle—including holding back strategic information until we see what’s what down there.”

  Zoe said, “I could go instead of Misha.”

  Misha shook her head. “It should be me. And my being a medic is part of why. I can take some herbs, I can offer to help anyone who is sick. It’s a way to show our good intentions.”

  “We can’t afford to lose you,” said Arch to her.

  Joan said, “Either of you.”

  Arch looked chagrined, a rare event. “Right. Either of you.”

  “I’m not helping you much at all,” Misha said to Arch. “I plan to ask about your symptoms while I’m there, see if anyone has any ideas. And I’ve been keeping detailed notes. Nina knows some of what I know, Zoe other things, Mom still others. If by some chance I don’t come back—like a tree falls on me, Mom, that kind of thing—then you’ll have the herbs and my notes and the knowledge.”

  “Don’t say that,” Joan said. “You’re going to come back.”

  “I will,” Misha said. “Don’t worry.”

  “Of course I’ll worry! I’m your mother!”

  Dev would worry, and he wasn’t their father. He’d known them both since they were little kids. “You’ll both be careful.”

  “Yes, of course,” Rod said. “Don’t be such nervous hens about it.”

  Sierra said, “Sounds like you have it all worked out. When are you planning on going?”

  “Tomorrow morning, if that’s okay,” Rod said. He looked to Joan as he said it.

  Arch said, “Doesn’t give us much time to come up with questions we might have.”

  Dev said, “Seems to me they’ve worked all that out. Remember, Dad, Rod and Misha are thirty now, not little kids.”

  “You’re all kids. I mean, except for Pilar and Joan and me.”

  “Hey,” Curt protested. He attended most of the meetings now, thankfully. Dev wanted his input.

  “You barely count as adult,” Arch said. “The rest of you are just kids.”

  Misha said, gently, “Everyone here is a fertile adult, Arch, if you look at it from a biology perspective. Nina could get pregnant. C.J. could impregnate someone.”

  Nina looked unsurprised by this, but C.J. was clearly shocked at the thought.

  Dev had thought before that C.J. and Nina were a logical couple, if they ever developed feelings for one another. But he hoped they didn’t reproduce soon. He wasn’t all that enthusiastic about Brandie being pregnant. Every mouth to feed was a burden on the whole community. And now, with the military men? It was one more vulnerability. He pushed that thought aside and spoke to Misha. “If you need help with your planning, let us know.”

  Misha said, “We had thought about taking a few chicks, but then realized they’d be too much of a hassle. But a cup of grain for each group might be a nice peace offering. They can plant it.”

  Dev nodded. “Sounds good to me. We can spare that much.”

  Sierra said, “I agree. And I’d rather Wes get it than Vargas’s group.”

  Her father said, “Good point. Anything else we can spare?”

  Sierra said, “Seeds. It has been long enough there’s probably some genetic drift even in what were once identical varieties. Could be something we have will replace something of theirs that disease or bugs got. Or it’ll do better downhill than up here.”

  “Can’t imagine that,” Pilar said. “They’re hotter than us, both of them.”

  “So we’ll choose a few seeds that are the most drought-resistant of what we have,” Sierra said. “I can do that using our seed stores.” None of the four households had anything the others didn’t also have, but Sierra had taken better quality notes on which seeds had performed best.

  “I’ll give you a few baskets to take down,” Joan said.

  Curt said, “I can give you a slingshot I just made.”

  Dev said, “You know, this is a good conversation to have for another reason.”

  “Why?” Zoe asked.

  “To remind us that this is how trade should work. Not forced. Not taxed. But people wanting to share things we’ve grown and made with our neighbors, out of a spirit of generosity. Not relinquished at the point of a blade.”

  Joan looked thoughtful. “I wonder if it’s possible to talk the military guys around to that point of view. Maybe if we—I—talked that way, they’d respond in kind.”

  Arch said, “Man, you people just don’t get it! We are in deep trouble here. Remember that hen. That could be you or me next time. We have to figure out what to do!”

  “We’re working on it, Dad,” Dev said. “Don’t get yourself worked up. Gustavo is getting pretty good with the bow now. And the grenades might work.”

  Pilar said, “The problem is, if we kill ten of them, I’m afraid a hundred more will come in their wake.”

  Arch was obviously happy they’d returned to talking about strategies of war. “We burn or bury the bodies, and they won’t know for sure it was us.”

  They’d been over this before. Should they kill the horses too? If not, what would they do with them?
Surely the military had trackers who could follow the hoof prints of a dozen horses they tried to hide in the woods. What about that armored wagon? Could they dismantle it? Were any of the parts useful? If they had the horses pull it away, the path would be easy enough to read for a child, much less a trained tracker. A smokehouse full of horse meat would be a dead giveaway. Taking the horses down to Payson or up toward Show Low would be to risk bringing retaliation on friends or innocent strangers.

  The only thing they’d decided for sure was that they needed to keep better track of the men who came to trade or collect taxes or threaten or steal. If it was a different group each time, they might get a better sense of the numbers they were dealing with. Or they might never know their numbers for sure.

  Dev let Arch talk for a time, even though he was saying nothing new. Then Dev moved the conversation in another direction. An hour later, they broke apart into households. Everyone had work to do—and as Joan said, a bit more than before for her because of her kids taking off on that trip.

  When they broke apart, Sierra hung back. “Can I talk with you?”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “I wanted to tell you that I spoke with Zoe. I did my best, but I don’t think she’s going to ever agree to hide.”

  “She’s a brave girl—woman, rather.”

  “Part of it is she wants to protect you, I think. She’d die for you, without a thought.”

  “If she did, I’d die too. I couldn’t live with that.”

  “No,” she said. “I know you couldn’t. But I did want to let you know I tried. I don’t want her hurt either, and I gave it my very best.”

  Dev was disappointed but not surprised. “She understands what rape is?”

  “Theoretically, at least. I don’t know anyone understands it fully who hasn’t lived through it. I don’t know that I do.”

  Dev shook his head, not at those words, but in surrender to the fact of Zoe’s stubbornness. “Thanks for trying, anyway.”

  “Arch seems in a bad mood.”

  “Ha. You’re only hearing the tip of the iceberg. Dad is never going to quit talking about this. We should have had more guns, ammo, stored the ammo in refrigeration when we had that, rather than in the barn, screw refrigerating food.”