by Lissa Bryan
Marcus approached them, his steps unhurried. In one hand, he held a pistol, which he held out to Pearl, butt first.
Pearl glanced at Justin. He shook his head. She took the pistol and stepped back.
A low rumble came from Sam. His previous confusion was gone, and he shifted to apex predator mode. He dropped his head low and stared up at Marcus, his amber eyes piercing, his paws braced apart to spring. Carly put a hand on his back and Sam fell silent, but he stayed in that tight posture, every muscle tense with restrained energy.
“Welcome to Colby,” Justin said. His face was expressionless, but Carly knew him well enough to detect the subtle tension in his muscles, the hard light in his eyes. He took off the pistol on his hip and held it out to Pearl. A goodwill gesture, nothing more—he was still armed with his knife and the pistol at the small of his back. But Carly suspected Marcus hadn’t given up everything he carried, either.
“I wanted to talk with you, that’s all,” Marcus said. He smiled at Carly. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Carly didn’t have a chance to respond to that as Stacy reached them, her forehead beaded with sweat from the run. “Carly, I know nothing about dogs—” she started, so Veronica must have given her the gist of it.
“Just try,” Carly begged. She turned to Veronica. “Will you run to the bookstore and see if there’s anything on bulldogs or dog breeding?”
Veronica nodded and took off again, and Carly silently thanked God for the boundless energy of the young. She carefully transferred the dog into Stacy’s arms.
Stacy gnawed on her lower lip. “I’ll try.” She hurried off toward the clinic, her steps swift but slower because of her burden.
Marcus extended his hand to Carly, and she had to force herself to reciprocate. She shook it and was proud of herself for not grimacing at having to touch him. “Thank you for the dog. Where did you get it?” She wanted to ask him who he’d robbed to take it, but she restrained herself.
Marcus smiled. “Don’t ask me to give up all of my secrets right away.”
“Fair enough. Follow us.” Carly headed for the courthouse, Justin by her side. Pearl followed them, her arms hanging loose down by her pistol holsters. It was obvious she didn’t trust Marcus at all. Sam, trotting beside her, rumbled again but quieted when Carly glanced back over her shoulder.
Inside, it was a bit cooler, the courtroom Carly led them to shrouded in shadow. She opened a pair of the wooden louvered blinds that covered the windows while Marcus took a seat across from Justin at one of the tables. Pearl leaned against the judge’s bench but didn’t get comfortable. She was like Sam, who stood beside her, watching and waiting to be released into action.
Carly gave her a small nod to show she understood. She brushed her fingers against her own gun before she opened the top of the window to let in some air and brought a lamp from where it sat beside the doorway. She lit it and put it on the table before she took a seat herself, beside Justin. The two men were staring at each other, neither threatening, nor friendly either.
“What is it you want, Marcus?” Carly asked.
“I want to discuss the possibility of merging our groups.”
“I didn’t realize it was a possibility.” Justin’s voice was flat. Carly touched her foot to his under the table.
“One of several,” Marcus said.
There was a long pause.
“Justin and I have to think of the well-being of our community,” Carly said. “What benefit would there be to us?”
Marcus sat back in his chair. Though his posture was casual, Carly could see his foot jittering where it was propped up on the opposite knee. “As I see it, you need us. You need my men. You have twelve people guarding your fence.”
Justin didn’t react, but Carly wasn’t as trained in hiding her emotions. She stopped breathing. Justin had told Carly he thought Marcus’s people had been watching Colby, and to have it confirmed didn’t come as a surprise, but it was troubling, just the same.
“Five of them are women. Three teenage boys.” Marcus gave a small shake of his head as though to say those eight people were sad and pathetic fill-ins. Carly felt her teeth clench, but she knew what Justin would say: Let him think we’re weak. “You need more men to fully secure your barriers. You need our labor to help build up your—”
“Wait,” Carly said, holding up a hand. “We will never be at the point where we need slave labor.”
Marcus huffed out a small sigh. “I think we need to reconsider terms like that now.”
“Let me ask you something. Where did you get them? It’s rare to see the Infected wandering around anymore. Very few of them have survived this long.”
“Some people have been taking care of them.” Marcus waved a hand.
“As family members, or as slaves?” Carly couldn’t quite keep the bite from her tone.
“Forget your notions of legal equality. That doesn’t exist anymore. The only equality you have is the force with which you can meet a challenge. All you have is your strength and your will to survive.”
“Not in my house,” Carly said. “In here, it’s still America.”
“Is it?” Marcus raised a brow. “You vote on everything, I take it? Pure democracy? Then why are your people not here to hear my proposal? Or perhaps, as I suspect, it’s a bit closer to a monarchy?”
Carly opened her mouth to argue, and Justin laid a staying hand on her arm.
“You didn’t come here to debate forms of government.” Justin’s voice was even, but below the table, his fist was clenched.
“No, I didn’t. I hoped I’d be able to convince you of the wisdom of merging our groups.”
“How many are you?”
“Fifteen men. Twenty burn-outs.”
He was lying. Carly knew it. Marcus wasn’t as good a poker player as he thought. His eyes shifted away and he blinked, a staccato flutter of his eyelids. She just didn’t know if the number was higher or lower than he claimed. How was he feeding such a large contingent on scavenged food?
“Fifteen men? No women?”
Marcus gave a small shrug. “A few among the burn-outs.”
“What happened to Megan?”
Marcus’s brow creased. “Who?”
“The woman with Billy.”
“There wasn’t a woman with him when he came to us.” Marcus’s face was impassive. Too impassive. He was lying again. Carly gripped the edge of the table so hard her knuckles bleached. She remembered Megan’s haunted eyes, her jerky, jumpy movements, and the way her gaze skittered around, as if looking for a safe place to hide. What had happened to her? Carly suspected she would never know, but she was certain it had been nothing good.
“Have any of you ever farmed?” Justin asked.
“Ah, no, can’t say that we have.” Marcus took off his ball cap and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “But I’m sure we can learn whatever we need to.”
He really did think they were that stupid. Carly exchanged a glance with Pearl. Out of Marcus’s line of sight, Pearl gave a little roll of the eyes.
“One last question,” Justin said and tapped Carly’s foot with his own, as though reminding her to remain impassive. “If we agreed to your proposal, would you surrender leadership to Carly and me?”
Marcus didn’t hesitate. “Of course. It’s your town. I’d hope I could be one of your council, or whatever you call it, because the men trust me, but the two of you would be in charge.”
Justin gazed at him for a moment and then smiled as he stood and extended his hand for Marcus to shake. “We’ll need a couple of days to consider.”
“Of course.” Marcus extended his hand to Carly as she stood. She didn’t like the way he shook it, as if he were pinching her hand between two fingers before releasing it.
“Thank you again for the dog,” Carly said, extinguishing the lamp on the table. “Does she have a name?”
Marcus gave her a blank look, as though Carly had asked the que
stion about a car or a box of ammo. “No … ah … I don’t think so.”
“We’ll show you out.” Justin led Marcus to the door and waited for him to pass through it before following with Carly. He put his arm around her waist.
“I hope that you’ll have a decision soon,” Marcus said. “We’ll be moving in this direction. The men are eager to be settled, as you can imagine.”
“I’m sure,” Justin replied. “You’ll know as soon as we do, after we talk to our people.”
Marcus stopped and gazed around. They were in the town common, and he spun slowly on his heel, taking in all the buildings, the plots of vegetables and corn growing by the occupied houses, the residents bustling to and fro. Everyone had been on high alert since Marcus was spotted, but they followed Justin’s order to pretend everything was normal.
“You have a nice setup here,” he said. “Real nice.”
“We’ve worked hard.” Justin’s hand around Carly’s waist tightened slightly.
“Your security leaves something to be desired.” Marcus took off his cap and settled it on his head at another angle. “My men could help you with that.”
Pearl said something, which she quickly covered with a cough. Carly had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from reacting.
Justin smiled, his white teeth flashing in the summer sunshine. “Perhaps, but you might be surprised.”
He started walking again, and Marcus fell in beside him. They stopped again at the gate, and Marcus shook his hand once more. Carly kept hers at her side, and Marcus didn’t offer. She was glad. She didn’t want to touch him again.
Pearl held out his pistol to him, butt first. Marcus grinned. “Keep it. As another goodwill offering. I heard you folks lost most of your weapons in the fire. A goddamn shame.”
Carly’s hands clenched into fists. She had a vision of herself walking up to Marcus and decking him, dragging him by the back of his shirt, and throwing him out the gate, tossing that stupid ball cap after him. Maybe after stomping it in the dirt a couple of times first. But she couldn’t, as much as she enjoyed the fantasy.
Pearl narrowed her eyes a little but otherwise gave away no hint of what she was thinking. “Yeah, it is. Thanks for the gun.”
Marcus didn’t lose his smile. He turned and headed out the gate, between the rows of alligators, whistling as he strode down the road.
And then, without warning, one of the hungry alligators found the courage to charge.
Once it started forward, so did a second and then a third. On top of the wall, Kross scrambled to shoulder his rifle.
“Shit! Justin?” he called, but his assistance wasn’t needed.
Marcus bent and pulled the hidden pistol he’d been carrying from his boot and shot the three gators with swift precision. He looked back over his shoulder. “Some fresh meat, if you want it.”
Leaning down, he picked up the smallest gator and slung it over his shoulder as he headed off down the road, whistling once again.
“Fucker,” Justin muttered. “Town meeting. Now.”
“Sam, call,” Carly said.
Sam tossed his head back and let out a long howl.
Carly wondered if this was how history was written. Years from now, would students be studying this moment in their fledgling new society? Were the people seated in this room—the ones she and Justin had deemed “the Principals”—the founding mothers and fathers? It gave her a little chill, thinking about how those students might judge the words she was about to say.
They were gathered in the courthouse again. Carly and Justin perched on the edge of the prosecution’s table.
“They’re coming,” Justin said without preamble.
Small nods around the room. They knew it, too. Justin had warned them, and if Marcus’s visit had been meant to lull them into thinking his group’s intentions were peaceful, it had failed.
“I don’t think he believes I bought his line of bullshit about wanting to join us and deferring leadership to Carly and me. So, when they come, it’s going to be in force, and I don’t think they particularly care if they kill every last one of us. It’s the town they want. The Wall, the fields, our supplies. They’re hoping we’ll be dumb enough to let them in, and then they can take us down from the inside with relative ease. But if we’re not that dumb, I don’t think it will bother them to do it the hard way. I suspect they intend to turn us out—most of us, anyway.”
“What do you mean, most of us?” Kross asked.
Stan answered him. “The ones they think aren’t a threat in regards to organizing the survivors and trying to take the town back. They’d kill Justin, no doubt, and most likely the rest of us in this room, too. They’d probably want to keep some of the women.”
Carly couldn’t hide her grimace.
“So, what’s the plan?” Pearl asked.
“We prepare for attack,” Justin said. “As we’ve been doing. We—”
Carly stood. She looked around at the faces of these people, the faces of her friends, faces that she loved. A community she was willing to do anything to protect. “I think we should go on the offensive.”
The room fell silent. Justin turned slowly to look at her. She couldn’t gauge his thoughts from his impassive face, but his eyes held a hint of surprise. And a gleam of respect.
Pearl stared at her. “You mean, attack them first? A preemptive strike?”
Carly swallowed. “Yes. I’m thinking … I’m thinking of the town. Why should we wait for them to come and try to take over? Why should we risk our homes being damaged by bullets and fire? Our fields? We don’t know what weapons they have, but even guns could cause a lot of damage. And it would put our noncombatants in danger as well.” She glanced around and saw nods. She took a deep breath.
“I say, we take the fight to them. We’ll have the benefit of surprise—I doubt if Marcus will be expecting it. He thinks we’re weak, on the defensive. We’ve fortified the town as much as we can. I say we leave a small force here, so the town’s not helpless in our absence … and then we hit them hard.”
“Who would go?” Pearl asked.
Carly glanced over at Justin. This was more his province than hers. He made a swift survey of those present and said, “The ones in this room. Anyone in the Watch who’s not present here would be our National Guard, so to speak, tasked with watching over the town until we come back. And … if we don’t come back … they’ll have the ability to defend themselves against the remnants of Marcus’s group.”
“Remnants?”
Justin’s black eyes gleamed in the low light. “If we don’t defeat them, I can guaran-goddamn-tee you we will severely reduce their numbers.”
Carly’s head swam a little as she shook hands with everyone when they departed. A pact had been sealed, informally, but insolubly nonetheless. They were going to do this. They were really going to do this. Just the thought set her heart to beating faster.
Several times, while they were discussing the logistics, she had wanted to shout that she’d changed her mind. Could she honestly put these people she cared about in danger? She spent the rest of the meeting in a surreal daze. It wasn’t until after the meeting when Justin spoke to her that Carly snapped fully back into reality.
“You always surprise me, you know.”
Lost in her thoughts, Justin’s voice made her jump. He stood behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, drawing her back against him. He bent his head down and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Every time I’m getting confident I know what you would do, you turn around and prove me wrong.”
“How’s that?” Carly asked.
“Going on the offensive like that. I thought you would only fight if we’re forced to, in defense.”
Carly gave a soft laugh. “I’m hoping Marcus thinks the same thing. But, Justin, you can’t defend our community based on what I want. You need to plan its defense based on the smartest strategy.”
His breath tickled her neck. “You are the community.”
&
nbsp; She gave his hand a little reproving swat. “I’m not always the best guide for this kind of thing, Justin. Tell me … what would you have done if my opinion wasn’t a consideration?”
There was a hard edge to Justin’s voice as he answered. “I would have gone in the middle of the night and … eliminated the threat.”
Carly shivered despite the heat of the courtroom. “So, I’m—I’m making the right choice? Strategy-wise?”
He gave it some consideration. “Your reasoning was sound. Go in fast, before they realize what hit them. We have the element of surprise. They think we’re weak. They’re overconfident, likely from meeting little other opposition all this time.”
“Two years,” Carly said. “All this time. That’s how they’ve lived, isn’t it? Preying on the weak, the scattered, the defenseless.” It made her feel better about her decision. Someone had to stop them, but there were no police to call anymore. The people of Colby were the only ones who could do it.
Stan and Mindy were in heated discussion near the judge’s bench, though their voices were too low for Carly to hear what they were saying. Stan chopped his hands in the air for emphasis. He laid a hand over Mindy’s still-flat abdomen, and Carly could see the plea in his eyes. But Mindy shook her head with a stubborn set to her jaw and marched over to where Carly and Justin stood.
“How about a night scope for my rifle?” she asked. “Is it possible to rig up something?”
Justin nodded. “I think we can come up with something, if that’s what you want.”
Mindy turned her head to gaze at Stan, who had retreated to the window, staring toward the closed shutters with blank eyes. “It’s not what I want, but what we want doesn’t really matter right now, does it?”
Carly wished she could tell Mindy to forget about it, to go home with Stan and be one of the defenders who would stay here at Colby. But they needed her. She was a crack shot, and that had to outweigh any reservations they had about bringing a pregnant woman into battle.
