They found the man in the living room, next to him sat a black Labrador.
"Ah, at last," he said. "Come and sit down. This here is Oscar and my name is Arnold, though some of the children call me Grampa. To others, I am simply the old man which is, sad to say, accurate enough."
He was a black man, thick set with close cropped white hair, thick glasses and a short white beard that looked as though it had grown through lack of grooming and not a fashion choice. Solly rubbed his own stubble, remembering the joy of that last shave at Neil's community.
Arnold was sitting behind a dining table and Solly stepped forward to greet him. The man was sitting in a wheelchair.
"Excuse me if I don't get up," he said. "Diabetes took my legs and now I'm good for nothing. 'Cept these kids seem to need me."
Janice gave him a peck on the cheek and then he looked up at Ross. "Ah, I see you have a young man with you as well. I guess he's not yours?"
"I can speak for myself," Ross said. "No, we're not related."
"We're a team," Janice said, squeezing Ross's arm and smiling as he flushed.
At Arnold's invitation, they sat at the table. Faces pressed to the windows from outside. "You'll have to forgive them," he said. "I've told them this'll be adult talk, but they can't help themselves."
Ross fidgeted a little and looked uncertainly at Janice, but it was Solly who spoke, "You've done things this past week that most fully-grown men would shy away from. Your actions make you an adult more than years ever could." The boy's face went even redder, but he was smiling as he settled back into his chair.
They could hear a kettle boiling in the kitchen and, a couple of minutes later, the girl who'd let them into the house brought a tray with four cups and a teapot. "This here is my granddaughter, Liana. I thank the Lord every day that she was spared. Get yourself a cup, Liana, and join us." Solly noticed Ross's eyes following the girl as she left the table and again as she returned a few moments later to sit with them.
"So, what happened?" Janice said as Arnold poured the tea.
"Well, I've lived here for almost five years now. When I lost my legs, I sold my apartment and bought this place. All one level, you see, and I can get my chair everywhere I need to. I was a bit of a sportsman in my day, I ran a basketball club in the town, and Liana made me keep up the coaching even after the operation. She's a pretty mean player. And then, that night, I watched everything going to hell around me on the news."
They sat in silence for a few moments as they each remembered their experience of those first hours. Mona's face loomed large in Solly's memories and he felt his throat tighten. And there was that poor man on the subway steps. And Marek the medic who'd tried to help but had gotten on the train before it was crushed in a collision.
Arnold swallowed some tea. "I couldn't get through to no one on the phone, but next day Liana showed up and I don't mind telling you, I could have filled a river with my tears when I saw her. Tears of joy and relief, but then she told me of her mom and dad, my son."
Liana took his hand as he wiped the wetness from his face and sobbed quietly.
"I stayed with Grampa that day, but then I thought about my friends, so I went back into town," she said.
"I begged her not to go," Arnold said, "but she has her mother's fire. That was the worst few hours of my life, waiting to see if she'd come back."
Liana smiled at him. "I found Jaxon first, then we went around the houses of the other club members we knew. We only found a few, but we brought them back here. Jaxon said we should check some of the homes here, and we found some as were empty."
"He's a good boy, could be a good man, if this world doesn't corrupt him before then," Arnold added. "Over the next days, more and more of them turned up."
"Me, Jaxon and some of the older kids found all the empty homes. We haven't been in the others."
"And you've been here ever since? It's eleven days, isn't it?"
Arnold nodded. "Yeah, and now we've got a problem. Well, several problems. First, there's food and water. So far, we've gotten enough from the other homes here. A lot were empty, it being the winter soon, and most of the other residents who survived the night hightailed it. Water works in the homes with solar to keep the battery charged and the pumps running, but I guess that'll stop sooner or later. We've got some gas for heating, but we can't stay hid here forever. Someone's gonna come sneaking around, and next time they may not be as friendly as you three."
"We need to find somewhere near with food and fresh water, that we can make secure. And with enough space for everyone," Liana said.
Solly gave a somewhat derisive grunt. "Not asking for much, are you?"
He was rewarded with a kick under the table from Janice.
"You're right enough," Arnold said. "But if it weren't for these damn legs, I'd have gone looking before now. I got prosthetics, but they ain't much use for a long walk, or for running when it's called for. These are kids we're talking about. They're our only hope for any sort of a future and I'm responsible for them."
Janice sighed. "At least we've only got ourselves to look after. You've taken a big responsibility on yourselves."
Liana looked at her grandfather, then back at Janice before standing up. "You don't know the worst of it yet." She put her hand out and led Janice, the others following, out of the trailer. Oscar the dog trotted along behind them.
"Are you gonna show them?" one girl said as they emerged.
"Hush your mouth," Liana snapped, making a path through the children and heading toward a neighboring mobile home. It was a breezy day as the trees rustled and their leaves swept across the grass, but Solly thought he could hear strangely familiar high-pitched sounds coming from the house.
Liana stopped at the top of the ramp and rested her hand on the door handle. "This is why we have to go and, once you've seen, you're gonna have to help us. Right?"
Janice nodded before Solly could respond though, in truth, he was as eager to see what was behind the door as she was. Then a cry went up and he gasped. Janice ran up the ramp and through the door.
"Oh my lord, they're babies!"
Solly took one look inside, breathing in the rich aroma of soiled diapers, then ran back across the grass and stormed into Arnold's living room. "You brought babies here?"
"I didn't," he said, shaking his head sadly. "Some of them came with their older brothers or sisters, and Liana found others as she was looking for her friends. What was she to do? Leave them to die? It breaks my heart that we must have missed so many."
Solly slumped onto the couch. "But you've got nearly as many of them as you have older children. How are you caring for them?"
"With difficulty. Some of my flock have had to grow up very quickly, especially Liana. She has become like a mother to them, even though many are the same age as she is. We've emptied the grocery stores in town of infant formula and now we're feeding them sterilized cow's milk. But, as you can see, their accommodation is not sufficient, and it is impossible to keep them quiet. I have been dreading the day when strangers came calling since we couldn't hide from them. I am so glad those strangers were you three."
He leaned forward in his chair and looked down at Solly. "Will you help us? We need you."
Solly shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, Arnold, I really am. But I have my own family to worry about."
"They're alive?"
"I don't know," he said. The next words stuck in his throat. "Probably not, but I have to find out. I made a promise. They're my responsibility."
"Where are they?"
Solly ran his palms over his eyes and sat back. "Texas."
"Oh my. But you can do some good here, my friend. Help us and then go find your family."
As Solly lay back in the couch, he closed his eyes as if to shut out where he was. Then he heard footsteps behind him and Janice's voice speaking nonsense words.
"If I help you, the chances are I'll never leave," he said finally, opening his eyes. "That's the God honest truth
." He felt a weight settling on his shoulders. A ball and chain that would keep him here when he wanted with all his heart to find his children and Bella or, at least, to get definite news.
Janice dropped into the sofa beside him, cooing at something in the crook of her arm.
He looked down at the baby lying there. It was only a few months old and, judging by the color of its clothes, it was a boy. A boy like his Jacob who, dead or alive, was over a thousand miles away. The baby made a sort of contented grumbling noise and its bright blue eyes turned to Solly. And he was lost.
Chapter 19
"Why are they so interested in us?" Bella said, as she watched the bikers moving in the street below. "There must be softer targets."
Nathan focused his attention on the ringleader. "The trouble with having iron railings and CCTV is it makes people think you've got something you want to protect."
"I have—my family."
"Some folks see a lock and they want to pick it. And they might have seen us coming back from the grocery store; figured we've got supplies."
Bella's mind snapped back to the fight in the parking lot and Hank's execution. That had been two days ago, and Nathan had since reverted to the friendly, warm, persona she'd thought was his natural one. But she couldn't forget the clinical way he'd dealt with Hank. Her attacker had been a filthy creep, but she'd seen the utter terror in his eyes and it had chilled her very soul.
Right now, however, as she watched the bikers milling around outside, she needed him. Fight fire with fire.
They'd disappeared quickly after they'd first turned up, but now they were back, and their numbers had swelled to around a dozen. Most were white men—some looked barely out of their teens, others where white-haired and bearded—and they lounged around outside wearing the black leathers and denims that were their trademark. She had no idea how they'd managed to find each other, but they were all guided by a single purpose: getting into her house.
She turned to see Al approaching. He'd found his aged police-issue shotgun in the garage where Solly had hidden it when the old man had moved to the retirement home. That had been one argument he hadn't won with the managers of the Bayou View—the no firearms rule was strictly enforced—so he'd handed it to his son-in-law for safekeeping along with a box of slugs.
"Nothin' going on around back, Tiger," he said as he joined them at the window overlooking the main road.
Nathan nodded. "They're getting ready to do something."
The leader looked up at the window where they stood and waved. "Come on down!" he called. "We need to have a little chat."
"The name's Max," he said, as Bella and Nathan faced him through the bars of the gate. Al had remained upstairs, his shotgun trained on them from the open window. Bella sincerely hoped he wouldn't be forced to use it; they had enough danger in front of them without having to worry about her father accidentally blowing her head off.
"What do you want, Max?" Nathan responded. With Bella's help, he'd put on his military uniform. His left arm was getting better, but still had nothing like full mobility and the black-ringed hole in the back of the jacket bore testament to his brush with death. From Max's perspective, however, Nathan looked like a fit soldier, ready and able to deal out deadly force.
"Well, we just want to take a look around, soldier," he said.
Nathan shook his head. "This lady owns the property, you don't. I suggest you move along."
The biker gave a gap-toothed smile. He looked as though he was in his thirties, with thick black hair, a handlebar mustache and pock-marked skin.
"Well, you see, property don't mean nothin' in a age of anarchy. It belongs to them's with the strength to take it and keep it."
Nathan simply stared at Max who, after a few seconds, turned his gaze on Bella. "Now, can't you see that we can all get what we want if you're reasonable? You let us in, and we'll share a little of what you got, then we'll be on our way. Everyone's a winner."
Her heart was thumping in her chest, but Bella had never been a shrinking violet, and, in this post-apocalyptic reality, there was no room for softness or the appearance of weakness. "You obviously think I'm an idiot," she said. "I know exactly what will happen if we let you in. Now, I'm giving you a chance to move along with all your limbs still attached."
It was a pretty lame threat, she knew, but she'd had little practice.
Max smiled again, exuding a confidence in front of his followers that might have been genuine. "Well, then, little lady, I guess we're gonna have to take it for ourselves."
"You're willing to risk your lives," she gestured at the listening audience behind him, "to break into a house when you don't know whether we've got anything worth taking? We've got you covered—make a move and we'll shoot."
Gesturing at the window on the first floor, Max said, "That old man? Can he even see me from up there?"
There was a crack from over Bella's shoulder and Max fell as the brickwork next to him exploded. He climbed back to his feet, wiping dust and debris from his face.
"There ain't nothin' wrong with my eyes," came a call from the open window, "nor my ears neither! Now you hightail it outta here before I take that ugly head off its shoulders."
With a snarl, Max stepped back, keeping the gatepost between him and the window upstairs.
Nathan pulled on Bella's arm. "Come on, we'd better get inside."
"I can't believe we're even talking about this," Bella said, as she stood in the hallway. Al was upstairs, keeping an eye on the bikers below while Bella, Nathan and the kids held council.
"Yeah, we're not giving up our house," Jake said.
"I hope it won't come to that," Nathan responded, "but we have to have a fallback position, a plan B. After all, we're badly outgunned. Every one of them has at least a handgun and all we've got is a Bersa semi-automatic and Al's 870. It's really going to depend on how determined they are. They might have been bribed to go, but Al stirred up the hornet's nest by humiliating their leader."
Maddie snorted. "It was pretty funny, though."
"It was," Nathan said, "but it makes our situation more difficult—they're now more determined, and they'll be cautious. Now, did you do as we agreed?"
Maddie nodded. "Yes, we loaded the supplies."
"And the cache?"
"Hidden under the decking out back," Jake said. After their return from the grocery store, Bella had suggested Jake and Maddie should gather together their most precious personal possessions, along with some of hers, and bury them somewhere so, if they were forced to leave, they'd be able to return one day and recover them. It had been a way to keep them busy and, hopefully, to help them process what had happened since that night, and the kids had approached the task with enthusiasm. They'd filled a sports bag with the stuff and wrapped it in a black sack before lifting some boards from the deck and burying it beneath.
"When do you think they'll attack?" Bella asked.
"I'd do it after dark."
Al appeared at the top of the stairs. "They're coming!" he hissed.
Nathan shrugged. "Remember plan B. We might be able to scare them off, but, if not, you have to get the children away."
She pulled him to her and kissed his cheek. Whatever she thought about the dark side to Nathan's personality, he was plainly on their side and right now they needed him. Perhaps they needed a monster.
Bella watched as he sprinted up the stairs, then shook her head and gave the children a brief hug. "Remember, stay out of sight."
She expected one or both of them to protest, but they were obviously frightened, despite their brave words and, in any case, they had no weapons. They both nodded and ran up the stairs to take position near a window overlooking the back as Bella ran into the kitchen to grab her chef's knife before following Nathan.
Al stood at the window, looking down the barrel of his Remington, his hand resting on the fore-stock, scanning left to right. Bella peered between the blinds of the next window just in time to see a head appear behind the
iron railings down below. It was rising as if being lifted by others and, within a few seconds, the figure was standing with his hands on the top of the railings, getting ready to pull himself up.
There was a bang to her right and blood misted from the attacker's leg as he collapsed backwards. "Got him!" Al called as he pumped another shell into the chamber. "That'll give them something to chew on!"
"Mom!"
Bella spun around and, as she did so, the window exploded inwards and she fell to the floor. "Keep out of sight!" Nathan called.
Jake appeared, panting. "They're in the back garden!"
Nathan ran past him. Bella pushed herself to her feet, carefully avoiding shards of glass, and followed.
"Dammit," Nathan spat. "They're not as dumb as I thought. The attack out front was a diversion. Never underestimate your enemy."
He drew away from the window and ran down the stairs, with Bella on his tail. Fists were beating on the back door. He turned to her as she joined him. "D'you reckon the kids will do what we said?"
"Yeah, they're smart enough."
"And you?"
"Have we lost already?"
He shrugged as the door began to groan. "Can't tell how many are out back, but if enough have got in while we were watching the front, then we don't stand much chance. If it comes to it, you have to follow the plan, to the letter. D'you understand?"
"Of course," Bella said, "but I'm not giving up yet." She hefted the knife, fear mingling with hatred of whatever came in through that door.
It burst open and a large man with a blonde beard stood in the door frame. Nathan fired, but the man merely staggered and brought his shotgun to bear. Another crack and he fell backwards, red erupting from the side of his head. Al stood at the foot of the stairs, Jake and Maddie behind him, both white with horror. "Looks like some of them have got bullet-proof vests—aim for the head!"
The next man fell to a shot from Nathan's Bersa and the other attackers drew back. He took guard at the doorway as a window smashed to Bella's right.
Without thinking, she ran into the bathroom to find a man landing on the floor. Before he could bring his pistol up, she launched herself at him. Her knife swung through the air, slashing along his shoulder and down his arm. He yelled in pain, twisting onto his back, and dropping the handgun. She picked it up and leveled it at him. He put up his hands as if to ward off the shot and her finger wrapped around the trigger. This weapon was much heavier than her Bersa and her hands were shaking as they stood facing each other. It was probably only a couple of seconds, but she made a choice in that moment. She wasn't a killer. She stepped back, shut the bathroom door and locked it, cursing herself for her stupidity.
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