by K. M. Fawkes
“Good points,” Garrett answered. “I’ve had the same thoughts. We know there are people out there who aren’t going to be our friends, and the risk of running into them at any time is high. Especially if we leave our known territory. But those thieves already know where we are. And we can’t just stay here, holed up in our town. We’ll run out of supplies. And what happens then?”
“So you’re saying we just get up and leave?” Steve scoffed. “What about old Bubba? What about the kids? What about the sick ones? You think it’s going to be safe to move them?”
“Steve, that part is already decided,” Greyson snapped. “Garrett is right; we can’t stay here. It’s not a tenable position. We have to do whatever it takes to survive. Even if that means going into towns that might be risky, to get more food and water. Even if that means leaving and trying a new city. Whatever it takes to survive, Steve.”
“And I say it’s a suicide mission to send a full team to a city we’ve never scouted, where we might find problems,” Steve retorted. “I won’t go. And I’ll advise everyone else to stay out of it. The trucks are both in poor shape and we don’t have any way to fix them. I’d be surprised if either of them made the trip to Las Ramblas, much less Las Cruces or the border.”
“And you’re not the one in charge here, Steve,” Garrett said, finally losing his patience. “Stay here if you want, but everyone gets to decide for themselves whether they want to be part of a raid or not. And that’s final.”
He didn’t like pulling rank. But Steve wasn’t adding anything to the conversation. He was just causing trouble for the sake of causing trouble. And planting seeds of doubt in the process. This was the right move. Garrett was sure of it.
But he needed his people on board. He couldn’t do this on his own, and he wasn’t going to force any of them.
“I’ll go on my own,” he said, making the decision as he said the words. “I’ll go scout the place out, make sure it’s legit, before we risk any of our people.”
It made sense. He could make sure the city was safe, and look for anyone who could give him news of what was going on in the world around them. See whether there was anything worth going back to out there—whether American society still existed. Maybe even confirm the existence of this Mexican town. That way they wouldn’t have to bother with seeking out the locals when he took his team in. They could just raid for supplies and get the hell out of there.
Yes, it was a long journey. Yes, it would take extra gas. But it would be the safest thing for the rest of the team.
“Terrific,” Steve snorted. “When you don’t come back, we’ll be able to hold elections for a new leader. Because so far, I’m not a fan of the job you’re doing.”
“Las Ramblas,” Greyson said, standing up from the map and completely ignoring Steve. “That’s the town you’re going to hit. It’s not as big as Las Cruces, but it’s a lot closer. It’ll be a quicker trip. Give Steve less time to undermine you in your absence.”
He shot Garrett a grin that said quite clearly that Greyson wasn’t going to allow anything of the sort to happen, and Garrett grinned in response.
“Las Ramblas it is,” he agreed. “I’ll leave in the morning.”
“And I’ll come with you,” Bart said from the other side of the table. At Garrett’s surprised glance, he shrugged. “Not like you can go by yourself. You’ll need backup. Someone to watch the street while you’re in houses. Besides, I figure we’ll want to look for fuel while we’re there. And you’re no good at siphoning gas. No offense, Cap.”
Garrett nodded, doing his best to keep a straight face. “None taken, Bart. I’ll be happy for the company. Now go home and get some sleep. We leave first thing.”
Chapter 6
Garrett busted through the doors of the schoolhouse after the meeting, partially angry at Steve for the drama he’d curried and partially excited—and somewhat overwhelmed—at what he’d just promised to do. Going out into the world with a team of people who had his back was one thing. Going on his own was something completely different.
Yes, he’d have Bart with him. But Bart was, at the end of the day, a sixteen-year-old kid. He didn’t know much about guns, and knew almost nothing about fighting. Garrett liked him a lot, but he wasn’t exactly on Garrett’s list of the top ten people he’d elect to take as backup.
Truthfully, that list only consisted of Alice. Possibly Greyson.
But there was an excitement running through his veins at the idea of getting out there that he hadn’t felt in some time. Going out into the world, finding other people, asking them for information… and of course finding his way into a new town, gathering new supplies, scouting the place for anything his team could go back for.
Yes, he was nervous about it. But there was a powerful optimism there too. And he was going to focus on that feeling rather than the nerves.
In the meantime, Steve’s mention of Elisa and Fawn had the small family on Garrett’s mind, and he wanted to check in with them. Steve was right; moving Fawn would be risky, and Garrett wanted to talk to Elisa and see what she thought about it before he started making specific plans. He was confident that they’d be able to transport the little girl in relative comfort, in the back of one of the trucks.
If they got it done before the rain started, even better. One hundred miles from the border wasn’t much. Fifty miles more to the Mexican town was even better. Maybe three hours of driving, max. They would go in the middle of the day so it was warm out, and with any luck at all, they would be in houses in Mexico before the nighttime temperatures arrived.
It all worked. In theory. That didn’t mean Elisa was going to be okay with it. The sooner he could talk to her about it and start making arrangements for her needs—and those of her daughter—the better.
And it was more than that. Over the last couple of months, he’d become very attached to Fawn. She was a bright, loving little girl, and had become a sunny spot in a dark world for him. Though she was sick, and had become thin and frail, she was always smiling and laughing, always telling a joke, always asking him if he had any riddles for her. It was awfully hard not to love her—and that made it even harder to watch her suffering.
It did, however, make him even more convinced that he had to get her out of there. He wanted that little girl to live. And he was willing to do whatever it took to make that happen.
It didn’t take him long to reach the house that Elisa and Fawn shared. When Garrett, Alice, and their crew arrived in Trinity, they’d found Elisa and Fawn on the outskirts of the town, in a neighborhood that had been deserted by everyone else. The two had been so isolated that the other townspeople hadn’t even realized they were still there—which was why they hadn’t been helping to take care of the little girl, who was already sick. One of Garrett’s first acts as the new leader of the town had been to move Fawn and Elisa to the house closest to the schoolhouse, and the supplies. That way they were first on the delivery route for food and water, and closest to where they might find help if something happened.
He hadn’t known who owned the two-story house before, but he thought it had probably never been put to better use. Fawn had immediately brightened up some at the increased number of people she saw every day, and the influx of food and water had brought color to Elisa’s pale cheeks as well. True, Fawn was still sick, but Garrett liked to think that they were giving her the best possible chance at survival with the new location.
He paused in front of the house and looked up at the stucco-and-brick building, its columns cracked from the desert heat, the yucca plants in the front yard long dead. The people who’d lived here before had obviously been well off, given the size of the house and its design, which matched the feel of the city hall across the street from it. Maybe this had been the mayor’s house, or the police chief’s. Maybe just some eccentric upper-class tech millionaire who had wanted to get away from society.
Whoever they were, their money hadn’t done them any good when it came to the chaos that
descended on the U.S. They were dead or gone, just like most of the population.
He darted up the steps of the house and knocked smartly on the front door, already knowing that Elisa was there. He’d seen her leave the meeting the moment they’d come to a consensus, no doubt anxious to get back to her daughter. Fawn was old enough that she was capable of staying home on her own, but Elisa was never comfortable with leaving her for long.
When the door flew open, to his surprise, it was Fawn on the other side, her cheeks flushed with fever, her blond hair hanging lank and wet around her face. But her eyes were shining, the way they always did, and she grinned wildly at him.
“Garrett!” she shouted hoarsely. “Mom, Garrett’s here!”
“Garrett?” he heard Elisa say from somewhere within the house. “What on earth…”
She appeared from around the corner, drying her hands on a dish towel, and shot him a questioning look. “Garrett, I saw you not ten minutes ago. Did you suddenly have another idea about our plans? Coming to me as the wisest and most experienced person in the place, no doubt. Best advice-giver available.”
She shot him a cheeky grin and he laughed. It wasn’t only Fawn that brightened his world. It was Elisa as well. Her tongue-in-cheek humor had made him laugh from the first day, and even on the worst days, she could still get a smile out of him. He wanted to save Fawn. Not only because he loved the girl, but also because he wanted to see those lines around Elisa’s eyes ease a bit.
“He’s obviously here to continue our checkers tournament, Mom,” Fawn said, rolling her eyes. “If you just saw him, it means you don’t need to talk to him right now. He’s mine.”
Without waiting for an agreement or lack thereof from Garrett, the little girl grabbed his hand and began tugging him toward the study, where the decorating was done in deep, rich leathers and mahogany furniture. A bookshelf lined one entire wall and the center of the room was dominated by an enormous, masculine desk.
“Whoever owned this house must have been really rich,” Garrett noted.
“Yep. Mayor,” Fawn answered. “And now he’s gone and this is all ours. His loss.”
Garrett shook his head at the cheek, which confirmed that sense of humor was most definitely passed from mother to daughter.
Half an hour later, Garrett’s chin was resting in his hand as he watched Fawn make her final move in the game. She’d beaten him handily, as usual.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Garrett,” the girl said. “Whatever it is, it’s not that bad.”
He tipped his head at her, wondering how she’d known that something heavier was on his mind. “I appreciate that, Fawn, more than you can know.”
“And that’s the end of your night,” Elisa said, coming in and clapping her hands. “Fawn, it’s time for you to go to bed. Let’s go.”
Fawn sent a glance Garrett’s way, silently asking if he was going to defend her, but he just shrugged in response.
“If your mom says it’s time for bed, kiddo, I’m afraid it’s time for bed.”
Groaning, the little girl rose and hustled out of the room. Elisa waited until they could hear her footsteps on the stairs before she spoke again.
“That girl is going to break my heart,” she said. “One way or another. God help us all when she’s a teenager.”
Laughing, Garrett nodded. Fawn was only seven now, but already had the attitude of a sixteen-year-old. Maybe because she was getting through life more quickly than the rest of them.
When he didn’t answer, Elisa continued, her voice soft and hopeful. “You really think we’re going to be able to get to Mexico?”
“I hope so,” he answered. “We don’t have a solid idea of where that town is or any contacts there, but if they’re truly open to taking refugees, I don’t see why they’d turn us away. We certainly fill the requirements.”
“I hope so,” Elisa murmured. “You know, before the nanovirus, Fawn wasn’t sick. When she first started coughing, I thought she had it, did I ever tell you that? I was sure of it. We hadn’t known anyone who had it, but that didn’t mean anything with how quickly it spread. The cough… It was horrible, and I was just waiting for it to start bringing up blood. That was why we stayed out in the suburbs. Couldn’t take the chance of spreading it to anyone else.”
Garrett sat back, stunned. He hadn’t known that—and the fact that Elisa would have gone that far to protect the rest of the community made him respect her even more.
“She could have died out there, and you still protected the people in town,” he murmured. “Elisa, that’s…”
“She might still die,” she corrected him. “You and I both know she’s sick, and we both know that there’s no medicine to help her. Whatever is wrong, it’s got control of her body. And she’s a drain on the community.”
When he put a hand up to protest, she gave him a look that said quite clearly that he was an idiot if he tried to argue the point with her.
“She’s a drain on our resources, Garrett. You know it. I know it. Even Fawn knows it, in her own way. And there’s nothing we can do to fix that. Not here. Not like this.” She paused and a few tears streamed down her cheeks and splashed onto the desk in front of her. “My husband died soon after the blasts. Went out one day to try to find us more water, and never came back. I heard later that he’d been shot by thieves and left in the desert. Without him, she’s the only thing I have. If she dies…”
Garrett reached out and grabbed her hand. “We won’t let that happen, Elisa, I promise.”
Elisa looked up at him. “And what kind of life can she have in a country that’s dying? A country that has already died, for all we know?”
He tipped his head back and forth. “None. That’s why we have to try for Mexico. But you know… the trip might be dangerous for her, Elisa. You know that, right? Are you sure it’s the right move? Sure we should risk it?”
It was the one thing he was still questioning. The one sticking point to the whole plan. Yes, they would do their best to shelter Fawn on the trip. Yes, they should be able to make it there quickly. But she was incredibly sick and moving her at all was a risk.
This time it was Elisa who squeezed Garrett’s hand. “It’s her only chance, Garrett, and you know it. There’s nothing for her here. This country is finished—at least until someone gets it started again. Without proper nutrition and medical help, Fawn is done for as well.”
There were still tears in her eyes, but she lifted her chin in defiance, and Garrett saw the will of steel that had kept Elisa and her daughter alive through the months of horror.
She was also right. Getting to Mexico was the only chance in hell he had of saving Fawn, the only hope any of them had of finding something better, and getting to Las Ramblas was the first step.
With that in mind, Garrett stood, kissed Elisa softly on the cheek and wished her good night, and went home to his own bed, hoping he would get enough sleep to make what he had to do tomorrow easier.
Chapter 7
The next morning, Garrett was up before the sun. He couldn’t help it; though he’d always wanted to be one of those people who could sleep until ten and then go through a long, lazy waking-up process, complete with breakfast and reading the morning paper, he’d never managed it.
Anything past five in the morning and he started to feel antsy, like he was wasting time. Wasting daylight that could see him doing something useful. It had started before military school, but the tight scheduling at that school had strengthened the feeling—and built a lifelong habit of rising early and going straight to work, regardless of how much sleep he’d had the night before.
On this morning, it was really going to come in handy. Las Ramblas was fifty miles away, and though it was much closer than Las Cruces, it was still a trek. The sooner they got started, the better. He wanted to know who—and what—was out there in the larger cities.
He didn’t think Bart would be up yet, so he made his way toward the garages where they kept the vehicles to star
t prepping on his own. This had been some sort of mechanic shop in the city’s previous life, and was still well-equipped with machinery and tools. After all, they couldn’t be resold or traded for food or water. And most of them were useless now that electricity was a thing of the past.
Garrett paused on that thought and cocked his head, standing stock still and staring at nothing. It had been more than three months since the blasts. Yes the EMP had knocked out the grid, along with all electronics in the U.S. But it had been three months. Shouldn’t something have… he didn’t know, started coming back on by now? How long did an EMP last, exactly?
Frowning, he took three steps toward the wall of the garage, reached out, and flipped the switch. Could it be that they’d all simply assumed there was no electricity, and had just been missing it?
He glanced up at the lights above him, though, and saw nothing. Moving on, he flipped all the switches on the panel up and down several times, just to try out his theory. Nothing, nothing, and nothing.
He blew out a breath, disappointed. Evidently, the EMP detonations had had a longer-lasting effect than he’d realized… Either that or there was no one left in the U.S. to put the power grid back together.
He chose to believe the former and leave it at that. There was a part of him that still didn’t want to accept that the vast majority of people in the U.S. were dead, or even that the government itself was down and out. He had no proof, of course, but the idealist in him still wanted to believe that there was someone out there working to pull the country back together—even if the realist in him scoffed at the idea and told him he was being naive.
Back to the tools, then. Right. Most of them were useless now, but the manual tools were definitely still useful, and he’d want to have a number of them with them on the trip. The funnel and hosing for siphoning gas from cars, he thought, turning toward the cabinets where they kept the stuff they used most often. Screwdrivers of various shapes and sizes for breaking into doors and windows and unscrewing anything that was screwed down. He’d always found hammers to be useful on this sort of trip as well, and he also picked up a couple of wedge-shaped chisels—useful for more breaking and entering.