by Lissa Bryan
Justin had always moved best under the cover of darkness. His night vision was sharp, his senses alert. He approached Clayton, taking a path through the side of town rather than using the main road.
He circled around the quiet streets and searched for any sign of fortification, but everything appeared the same as it had months before, when Clayton was vacant and Justin had first searched for supplies. Marcus and his group hadn’t done much in terms of improvement or settlement. There were no signs of farming—the few garden patches he saw were overgrown jungles of weeds.
Marcus had scoffed at Colby’s security, but his own was scant. There were only two men stationed as pickets on the outskirts of the town, and neither was actually watching. One was reading, and the other was asleep, his chin tucked down on his chest. His rifle had slid off his knees and the end of the barrel was jabbing into the ground by his shoe. Justin shook his head as he walked right by the guy toward his destination, the courthouse.
He crept in from behind it, and his nose alerted him before his eyes could. There were bodies piled near an emergency exit door at the rear of the courthouse. The three corpses on top were fresh—one male and two female, all seriously underweight and bearing evidence of blunt-force trauma wounds. One of the women had a rope tied around her wrists so tight that it cut into the flesh. In his mind, Justin heard Carly cry out in horror at the sight. She would weep. She would want to give them a decent burial. He couldn’t do that, but there was one thing he could do. He cut the rope free with a quick slice of his knife. He knew it was pointless, but he felt better after doing it.
He paused at a window to listen, but he heard only a few soft bumps of people moving around inside. The slaves must have all bedded down for the night. He crouched low, approaching a bush near the corner with silent steps. As he’d hoped, there were a few men around the campfire in front of the courthouse, perhaps to keep the people inside from escaping while waiting for travelers to happen by. It was the same location where they’d been sitting the day he, Pearl, and Kaden had discovered this group.
Justin could smell cooking meat and hear the hiss of it frying under the low murmurs of conversation. A voice rose above the others.
“I’m sick of eating this shit. Alligator? This is fuckin’ disgusting.”
“We’ll be eating better soon,” another voice said.
“Oh, man, you don’t want to know what I’d do for a steak right now. I can’t wait.”
“I want a hamburger. Do you think we could make one?”
The men discussed the logistics of how they could shred, chop or grind up some of the meat for a few minutes before deciding steak would have to do, because it seemed like far too much work. Someone noted that a hamburger just wouldn’t be the same without a bun and the condiments, and that settled it.
“That cow won’t last long,” the first voice said. “You see a fuckin’ refrigerator around here?”
“Who cares? We’ll eat good for a couple of days at least.”
“They got horses, too. We could eat those.”
The first voice made a sound of disgust. “You can’t eat horses. That’s gross!”
“Why not? They’re just like a cow, eatin’ grass and shit.”
“You just … don’t. People don’t eat horses.”
“The French do.”
“Fuckin’ French also eat snails. Shut up, Charlie.”
“What are we gonna do with ’em if we don’t eat ’em?”
“Keep them, I suppose. Marcus ain’t said. They’d be a hell of a lot easier to make pull the wagons than those fuckin’ burn-outs, anyway.”
“I don’t know why we don’t just go now.”
“Marcus said he ain’t got everything ready yet.”
“We got enough guns.”
“Yeah, but he’s still missing ammo for the twenty-twos.”
“He said he’s got a couple more houses on that gun store mailing list to check. They’re gonna go in the morning. That’s why he went to bed so early.”
One of them stood. “I think I’ll go inside for a bit.” He nodded toward the courthouse.
The first voice laughed. “Jesus, Nate. Third time today!”
“Can’t help it. Kinda nervous about this raid, and it makes me sort of … antsy.”
“Ain’t nothin’ to be worried about, man. It’ll be over quick. They’re a bunch of farmers. They ain’t even got enough guns to go around since Billy burned that leader guy’s house down.”
“I’m not so sure. Marcus said it looked like they’d been tryin’ to build the place up. And it ain’t gonna be a surprise like we usually do. They know we’re coming.”
“And they’re probably shitting themselves with fear about it. They’re tryin’ to build up because they know they can’t fight us off. Don’t you see? Buncha women and kids, too. Marcus said they’re gonna be distracted, trying to defend them. It’ll be a piece of cake, Nate. You’ll see.”
“Yeah, maybe.” The man shuffled away from the group, and they laughed a little amongst themselves at his nerves, which they attributed to being green.
Justin slipped away and headed for the only house that had any light, a big Victorian on the adjacent street. Marcus liked to play his cards close to his chest, and he also seemed to like to keep a tight watch over his men and supplies.
The house had a trampled path worn through the overgrown lawn to the front door. Beside the corner of the porch, Justin found a pile of human remains wrapped in scraps of bedding—the former occupants, he presumed. A small skull lay beside it, braces gleaming on its teeth, its empty sockets staring up at the starless sky amid empty soup cans, beer cans, and wrappers. Their trash pile.
Peeking through one of the windows, Justin saw sleeping bags interspersed with boxes of gear and piles of trash. The group apparently saved nothing as trade goods—they consumed whatever foodstuffs they encountered on the spot. But what interested him more was the fact he saw no guns lying near the still forms on the pallet beds. Marcus must have kept them locked up when the men weren’t on patrol.
For the first time since he’d arrived in Clayton, Justin had something to smile about.
Mrs. Davis was alone in the living room when Carly arrived. She held Dagny in her arms, not in the carrier.
Carly sat down beside her. Dagny jabbered happily when she saw Mrs. Davis, waving the slobbery teething ring she held. Carly usually handed the baby off when she arrived, but this time, Carly wanted to hold on to her a little longer.
“Are you getting ready to leave?” Mrs. Davis asked. She said it like Carly was headed to the potato field instead of mortal combat.
“Yeah.” Carly smoothed Dagny’s wispy hair. Dagny grinned up at her, her dark eyes sparkling. Healthy and beautiful baby, completely unaware of the ugly aspects of the world.
“If we don’t come back—”
“Oh, Carly, you can’t think like that.”
“I have to.” She kissed the top of Dagny’s head, lingering as she inhaled her sweet baby scent. “I’d like Mindy to take her, but she might not …”
“Carly, you know whatever happens, we’ll take care of her. She’ll always be loved.”
Carly’s throat burned and pain tightened her chest. She had to unclench her teeth to speak. “Just don’t let her … don’t let her forget us?”
Mrs. Davis scooted over to put her arms around Carly’s shoulders. “Oh, honey, no. We won’t let her forget you. We won’t let anyone forget you or what you’ve done to build and protect this community.”
Carly kissed her daughter one last time and put the oblivious baby down to stand on the floor, clutching the edge of the coffee table. If she didn’t leave her now, she never would.
She held up her hand. “Stay,” she told Sam. The wolf looked almost wounded, but Carly was sure she was projecting. She knelt down and gave him a hug. She stared down into his amber eyes. “I need you to watch Dagny, okay?”
He didn’t signify he understood with a vocalization, but she
thought she saw in his eyes that he understood far more than the humans believed. “Veronica has Buttercup. She promised she’d bring her by every day.” It was a promise Carly hoped she didn’t have to keep. They would be back the next day, she told herself.
Sam lay back down, his head propped on his forelegs. He looked relaxed, but his ears were perked and swiveling for sounds. Carly smiled.
She closed the door behind her and stepped out onto the porch, inhaling a shaky breath.
“Leaving?” It was the Reverend, seated on the porch swing, a book open in his lap.
She nodded. She couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Carly, you’re doing the right thing.”
She was surprised. “I would have thought you would be anti-war.”
“I am, generally speaking. But this isn’t war. This is self-preservation.” Reverend Davis stood and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Your choices aren’t easy, Carly. Sometimes, there are no choices left to us which seem right. Just keep in mind what you’re fighting for. Keep in mind your ideals of compassion and love. I believe if you hold them close to your heart, you will make the right decisions.”
“What time are we leaving?” Kaden asked as they cleaned up the dinner dishes. Carly struggled to swallow the few bites she’d forced down. The food felt like a stone in her belly.
“You’re not going,” she said. She wished he’d waited until Justin had come back from the barn to have this conversation.
“The hell I’m not,” he said, and for a moment, he looked enough like Justin to truly be his son, his eyes flashing in anger.
“We need you here.” Carly turned to him and put down the towel with which she’d been drying dishes. “We need trustworthy defenders in case … in case they get past us.”
“I want to go with you, Carly,” Kaden shouted, and it wasn’t the petulant shout of a teenager but the roar of an anguished man. In place of the gangly boy Justin and Carly had adopted, she could see the man he would become, and it filled her with wistful pride. “Whatever happens, my place is with my family.”
“And that’s why I want to make sure you’re here to take care of Dagny in case …” She couldn’t finish the rest. “She’ll need you, Kaden.”
“I want to be there, backing you up,” Kaden said.
“I need you here.”
“That’s not the only reason you’re saying no.” Kaden glared at her.
“That’s true,” she said. “You’re no killer, Kaden.”
“You’re not either.”
Carly looked away. “I can be, when I need to. I have been. Please, Kaden, back us up by protecting what we’ve built.” She pulled him into her arms and went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
“I love you,” Kaden said. He buried his face in her hair and squeezed her tight. “I love you … Mom.”
Tears stung her eyes and strangled her words. “I love you too, Kaden. Your dad and I both.”
Carly opened the barn door and heard Shadowfax rumble in greeting. She approached the stall door and both horses stuck their heads out over the top, snuffling at her and bumping her for attention. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the two small apples she’d brought. Storm chomped at hers, almost taking Carly’s fingers with it in the process.
“Ouch!” Carly wagged her finger at the filly. “No biting!”
She held out Shadowfax’s apple, and the mare used her lips to pluck it from her palm. Carly told her she was a good girl and stroked her large head as she chewed. Shadowfax looped her head over Carly’s shoulder, the horse version of a hug and Carly hugged her back.
“I wanted to come to see you one more time before we go,” Carly said. “I think … I’m pretty sure we’re coming back. Our odds are good. But just in case … I had to say thank you. You and Sam, you helped heal my heart after the Infection. I wasn’t really myself. I’m still not, to tell you the truth. I’m different now. The person I was … she died during the Infection, too. The Carly I used to be wouldn’t be planning an attack on a rival group, that’s for sure. But this Carly knows she has to do what must be done to protect the little haven we’ve built. And for those poor people they’re keeping captive. I can’t just walk away.”
She rubbed beneath Shadowfax’s mane, soothing the itchy spot the horse couldn’t reach. “I’m leaving Sam here with you. I know he’s been different since Tigger died, but I saw some of the old Sam now that Buttercup is here.”
She stepped back, and stared at the barn floor as she scuffed her shoes against the straw. “What I’m saying is, you’ll be okay. You’ll all be okay. No matter what. Everyone promised they’d take care of you for me. I just wanted to thank you for taking care of me when I needed it.”
“Carly?” It was Justin, standing in the barn door. “We need to get suited up.”
“Coming.” She gave Shadowfax one last pat and followed Justin back to the house, down into their room.
“I know there’s no way I could convince you to stay behind with Kaden,” Justin said.
“No.” Her throat felt tight. “There’s nothing that would keep me from your side. We stand together, or we fall together. Whatever our fate is, I will meet it at your side.”
“More than anything, I wish I could protect you from this, that you wouldn’t have to see this side of the world,” he said.
“It’s not that kind of world anymore, Justin. The world has changed, and I’ve changed to meet it. I didn’t realize how much until my people, my home, was threatened.”
She braided her hair tightly and bound it up in a bun at the back of her head the way Pearl did. Justin stared at her for a moment, unused to seeing Carly without her mass of caramel waves around her shoulders. She dressed in a pair of dark khakis and pulled out a long-sleeved shirt. Before she could pull it over her head, Justin handed her something.
“Put this on.”
She stared at it. “Where did you find that?”
“Police station. Put it on.”
The bulletproof vest was white and fit snugly around her torso, stiff and thick. “I can’t move in this.”
“You’re not going to be doing any acrobatics,” Justin said.
Carly wriggled around and grimaced. “Justin …”
“For me.” As if it wasn’t stiff enough, he slipped a plate through a pocket on the side, to lie over her heart. He handed her the shirt she’d chosen, and she pulled it on over the vest.
“Do you have one?”
“They didn’t have my size.”
She gave him a chiding look, and he grinned in response. It made her heart ache.
Her Justin. The man who had teased her gently out of her shock and grief during their journey, who had made her laugh with his jokes and singing bad 80s tunes. Could she have him back once this was over? She missed it. Missed how it had been when it had just been the two of them on the road, and when they had been just the little family of three in the farmhouse in the Dakotas.
This was what she had wanted. And this was the price she had to pay for it. At that moment, the price seemed very high indeed. She went into his arms one more time—her mind refused to think of it as one last time—and he kissed her. For a moment, it was as though their souls touched as well, mingled and spoke, and the only word was love.
She followed him onto the porch, closing the door behind them with a firm click. Carly took a deep breath and looked around Colby, the bit she could see from her porch.
Was it worth it? Was Colby, what she was trying to build—their community, but more importantly the ideals for which it stood—worth it? Worth the chance of losing her own life or the life of the man she loved? Could what they were building here be that important?
She could see Stan and Mindy outside, suiting up and checking their guns. They paused to kiss as she and Justin had done, and she saw the expression on Stan’s face as he looked down into Mindy’s eyes.
Tears blurred Carly’s vision.
Yes, it was worth it. To hell and beyond, it was worth it.
Chapter Fifteen
Their approach was silent, under the cover of darkness. Clayton was lit only by a campfire in front of the courthouse, where the small handful of guards sat on lawn chairs, occupied with their conversation instead of watching. Just as Justin had said. He had been scathing when he reported on their nearly nonexistent security measures. Had their way of life been that easy for them, Carly wondered? Going from place to place and preying on whomever they found, never fearing attack themselves?
Everyone knew their positions. They had studied Justin’s map, which he had drawn and labeled last night, though he’d had Carly go back and switch the letters he’d transposed.
Mindy and Carly were positioned on the high ridge on the opposite side of the river. Enfilade, Justin had called it. Justin was heading around the side of the town, following the path of the little river, and then slipping up between the courthouse and the Victorian.
They met at the burned-out barn, their staging location, their fallback position. Stacy would be stationed here, her emergency medical supplies spread out on a small folding table. Grady was stationed here, on the second floor, to provide covering fire for a retreat if necessary.
Carly watched Justin creep through the darkness toward the lone picket at the end of the bridge. Even his shadow disappeared. She took a deep breath, waiting for the gurgle of a slit throat and the thump of a body, but she was surprised instead when Justin appeared, a young boy propelled in front of him. The kid couldn’t have been more than fourteen, pale and scrawny. Justin knocked him to the ground in front of their group. “Look at this shit,” Justin said, sounding disgusted.
“Please, don’t kill me,” the kid pleaded. “Please, I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die!”
“How’d you end up with these assholes?” Stan shook his head.
“The guy I was traveling with joined them. I didn’t want to, but he said we needed the protection.” The kid’s eyes glittered in the light of their lantern, and his mouth twitched as he blinked fast.
“And they put you on guard duty?” Carly thought shooting a rifle would probably knock him over.
