Page 130 of Hell and High Water

This place can sustain itself for years.” Gavin pops out of a door at the end of the hall. “Generators, back ups…”

“Three TVs!” Tell shouts as the units slide up out of the floor.

“Boys,” I grumble, heading for the hallway to check out the living situation. “You’d better not pay more attention to my new fancy house than me!”

None of them respond.

Nerds.

The multiple sleeping quarters are all furnished, stocked with sheets, towels, each room sporting its own bathroom. It’s almost barracks-like in some ways, only luxurious. Spacious. We could house at least ten or twelve people here pretty comfortably.

Not that I have a reason to.

I’m already planning which room I might want to claim as I head upstairs to the loft area. Clicking on the lights reveals a game room, entertainment center, pool table. Gotta give my dad credit. He pulled out all the stops. Not just to make a safe place, but to make it livable, fun.

Of course, it’s all glaringly designed by a dude, but ‘A’ for effort, Damon.

With a little work, this place could be truly cozy.

Especially when I discover the master bedroom at the back of the second level. I didn’t know they made beds that big.

I’m skipping out of the room before I can let my imagination get too carried away with what we could all do on that comfy monstrosity.

Like snuggling. Yep. That’s what I was thinking.

Not that I have any business thinking about things like that when we are under siege.

This fortress gives me hope, though, makes me feel like we might stand a chance.

The concept of having my own place adds another layer to my confidence.

It’s something I’ve never really had.

And even if it was handed to me on a silver platter by my mysterious predecessor, I won’t look that gift horse in the mouth

Over the next few hours, we get to know the workings of the house and settle in. We’ll need to buy food, stock the kitchen. Retrieve more of our things.

But each of my guys finds plenty to do. Gavin takes it upon himself to examine the house top to bottom, making sure he knows everything about how it works.

Tell is unusually quiet, ticking away on his computer, digging through the flash drives and compiling lists of allies, exploring surveillance across the city. He’s a whiz at computer stuff. It’s an edge I hope we have over Marco and the Ghosts with his knowledge of hacking and his previous infiltration into systems all over town.

Then there’s Evan, who I haven't seen since he disappeared into the office off the main room. He’s a natural when it comes to research, administration. Numbers, money. He knows how to pick out patterns. Look for trends. Figure out exactly who was doing what with whom and when.

I know he’ll be assessing our resources, organizing our supply chain. And tracking Marco’s paper trail.

And then there’s me, standing in the kitchen, a million thoughts racing through my head and getting nothing useful done. So I pop open my dad’s journal and get to reading.

He was adamant, my father, about helping his people. It’s why he ultimately came back here.

He felt a responsibility to make this city what it was always meant to be. A sentiment that is growing stronger in me every day.

Unfortunately, the more I read, the more heartbreaking his story gets.

He was up against a failing system, against other members with just as many resources and know-how, all fighting for their own agendas.

“You look cheerful.” Gavin interrupts my concentration, leaning on the bar. Tell stretches, yawning from his spot on the couch and smiling at me.

“He was so alone, trying to do the impossible, all by himself.”

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