“Understandable,” answers the person he’s been talking to for the past half hour. “Any other pieces of information or areas outside of Sonoma you advise us to avoid?”
“The group numbers around forty and monitors an area of about an hour’s radius, from what we’ve been able to tell.”
“Got it. I appreciate the intel. Our group isn’t that large, though itissizeable. Hopefully there are enough of us to warn them off.”
Sophie and Roger the dog are asleep in her bedroom. Honey the German shepherd gave Roger the lapdog of dubious heritage a dismissive sniff and then ignored him. However, Roger didn’t seem much to mind. He gets away with sitting on the furniture and sleeping on a bed while Honey has to stay on the floor. It’s easy to see who he believes is the true winner in this situation. And yes, Roger had a bath before coming inside the house. I don’t want to know what the little dog had rolled in, but the stench was potent.
Nash and Pedro came back in the evening with much the same news Dean gave us at this morning’s meeting. We would need to attack during the day when Porter’s five vehicles go out to monitor the spots they’ve claimed as theirs. It’s the only time our numbers come even close to theirs. We need more people, a foolproof plan, and we need to prepare.
With this in mind, George and the twins went shopping. They returned with a couple more military vehicles loaded with weapons, bulletproof vests, and various other supplies. Most of it from camps and blockades in towns north and west of us. Along with the military vehicles here already, they’re parked at intervals throughout town, ready to go. Porter might still find us first. We need an escape plan.
Weapons are hidden in each of the houses. We practiced getting down low and getting to the nearest cover with the children. Reiterated gun safety to them and the general no-touching rule. Someone is usually keeping an eye on the children. Though having guns in the house still feels like trading one danger for another. There are also vehicles with full gas tanks and stocked with supplies ready to go on the other side of the creek. Just in case. I don’t know how to defend a place like this. But with these preparations we hopefully have a chance, at least.
But back to the radio. Pedro, Naomi, Dean, and I are gathered in our living room. Porter used the radio to help draft dickheads. We’re going to use it to warn anyone who’s listening. And to hopefully meet some more people to boost our population.
“I don’t suppose you’re looking for somewhere to land?” asks Pedro.
“We’ve not quite finished our journey yet,” says the man on the radio. He sounds maybe middle-aged. “I started in Grand Junction and headed west. More and more people joined along the way. Traveling seemed sort of cathartic amongst all of the chaos. But I’m honestly not sure what happens next. You’re right about us needing to settle somewhere. And where we’re going may not be best suited.”
“There’s a lot to consider,” Pedro says. “Between putting the dead in the ground and collecting food stores and medicine, things have been busy here. Join us, and you have the benefit of our head start. Though as mentioned, we have unfortunately made ourselves an enemy.”
“I appreciate the offer, and we’ll definitely give it some thought,” the man says. “This is a pilgrimage for me. My daughter passed early from the virus. She was only seventeen and had been planning on studying architecture. Just loved looking at interesting buildings that were environmentally conscious. It was her passion. She always wanted to see the ocean as well. I just never got around to taking her.”
“Right,” says Pedro in a gentle voice.
“Life gets so busy and all of the meaningless shit takes over. Anyway…there was this one place she talked about, and we should reach there tomorrow,” he says. “Ask me after that.”
“Will do. Good night and safe travels.” Pedro turns off the radio with a disappointed sigh. “Guess we try again tomorrow.”
“Or we could go meet them and ask in person,” I say.
Naomi cocks her head. “You’ve figured out where they’re going to be.”
“Interesting, environmentally conscious buildings by the ocean, and the reception was strong, so they’re probably kind of close, right?” I ask. “They’re going to Sea Ranch.”
TUESDAY
“It’s not fair—I figured it out,” I say.
“Their first impression of our group can’t be a woman with a fresh bullet wound on her forehead, and you know it.” Dean finishes his coffee and rinses out his mug in the soapy water in the sink. “And you’ve got a headache and should be resting. Not going off on adventures.”
“I already took some Advil. I’ll be fine in a minute.”
“Great. What’s on for today?” he asks, hands on hips. “You want to start giving me directions for building a chicken coop?”
“No. Not right now.”
“Okay,” he says. “What then?”
“I need you to go be somewhere else and give me some space.”
“No. You have a head wound, and I am sticking close to you. What if you have a dizzy spell or something?”
“Listen to me very carefully, Dean,” I say. “You not only didn’t wake me up when you knew there was a town meeting happening, so I couldn’t be part of the decision-making process around who would go to Sea Ranch and how things would be handled. But you waited until they’d left to wake me, just to make absolutely certain my ass was stuck at home.”
He stares down at me with his lips a flat and final line. “There was never any chance of you going on that trip. None. You’re wounded and need to rest. I stand by my decision.”
“Oh yeah?” I hate the way my voice cracks. “Well, you can sleep beside it too. Because you’re sure as shit not sleeping with me.”