Fallback (3 page)

This did cause some rumblings among the assembly. A few of the scouts and scavengers, clearly intrigued by the idea of traveling and establishing a new settlement, however small, had families and were not pleased they couldn’t go unless they were willing to leave their families behind. But I thought the rule made perfect sense. If you were only taking twenty people, every one of them had to be able to carry their share of the workload, and to defend themselves when necessary.

“Those who remain will go on as before, with a few changes. We’ll be increasing fortification and deterrents.” He meant traps. For both the living and the dead. “We’ll be concentrating on stockpiling weapons and supplies, some of which will be delivered by special courier teams to the fallbacks.”

He went on for several more minutes, discussing additional scavenge missions to locate canned or other shelf-stable food to supplement what would be lost by not planting our fields outside the walls, which vehicles would be used for the fallback mission and possible future evacuation, and the criteria for selecting from among the volunteers. There were a few questions, which he answered patiently, then we were sent on our ways to consider all we’d been told.

We were quiet as we walked the four blocks back to our house, each lost in our own thoughts. Foremost in my mind was I wanted to go. I wanted the new challenge, but I’d only go if Melissa agreed. I’d promised her I’d never leave her, and I meant it.

I was extremely glad she was over sixteen.

CHAPTER THREE

We prepared our interrupted lunch, though it was now more of an early dinner. There was a silent agreement not to discuss the fallback plan until we were finished. I gave Skip the chicken liver and gizzards I’d saved when making last night’s dinner, then put him out in the back yard, where he made a show of ignoring the goats. Wilhelm had tried to butt him immediately upon his arrival the previous day, and Skip held a grudge.

Once the kitchen was cleaned, we adjourned to the living room, looking at each other and wondering where to start.

Rebecca kicked off her boots and propped her feet on the coffee table, eying us one by one before speaking. “Fine. I’ll start. No, it’s not an ideal plan, but I think it’s the best approach, given the situation.”

“I don’t know,” Bethany said, reaching for her sewing basket and retrieving a half-finished mending project. “Is it really a good idea to divide our forces?”

“Don’t look at it as dividing,” Rebecca responded, pulling her braid over her shoulder and beginning to unwrap the elastic band at its tip. “Look at it as not putting all our eggs in one basket.”

I agreed. “What else can we do? We can’t launch an attack ourselves, so this fallback thing is a done deal.”

Bethany pulled a stitch tight and knotted the thread. “I know, Ellen. I just can’t stand this, any of this. I thought we were safe.”

We were all quiet for a moment, pondering the notion of safety.

Then Melissa spoke up. “We’re not safe,” she said, her voice soft even in the still room. “We never were. Not before everything died, not when we were running or hiding, and not now. The only difference is now we know it.”

Her words tore at my heart. I knew safety was an illusion; I just wished Melissa didn’t have to live with that knowledge.

I decided to be practical. “Okay, then. We know we’re always in danger, but that threat is growing every day the marauders have to prepare. So
we
have to prepare, and that means fallback settlements. It’s happening. Now we have to decide how we can help, how we can make the situation safer, for ourselves and for the community.” Everyone would have a part to play, whether it was staying here and helping with the fortification and defense, or heading to one of the outposts to provide a safe gathering point should the worst happen.

Rebecca paused in unraveling her braid. “I’m volunteering.” Her voice rang with absolute certainty. I knew she’d be selected. In addition to her almost superhuman skill with any bladed weapon, she was an outstanding marksman and could take down fast-moving game with an arrow. Any expedition needed someone with her abilities.

Bethany shifted in the armchair, dropping her gaze to the partially mended shirt in her hands. “I knew you would. I…I can’t. It might not be totally safe here, but it’s safer than out there.” Her voice began to tremble. “When the outbreak started, and we were all running, watching our families die, I can’t go back to that. Not unless I don’t have another choice.”

I rose from the couch and went to sit on the ottoman by her chair. Touching her arm, I said, “Nobody is judging you, Beth. You know better than that. We all have to make our decisions, figure out what we need to do.”

She raised her head and met my eyes. “What are you going to do, Ellen?”

I withdrew my hand and looked around the room, finally focusing on Melissa. She sat at her piano bench, watching me closely. “Well, Melissa and I are a team, so I guess we need to talk it over.”

Melissa scooted off the bench, nodded in the direction of the back door, and left the room. I followed, meeting her on the patio. Skip ran over, glad for company of a non-caprine nature. I settled uneasily in a lawn chair, while Melissa sat cross-legged on the patio, Skip sprawling across her lap.

“I know what you want to do,” she said, rubbing under Skip’s chin.

“What I want to do and what I will do might not be the same thing.” I rummaged around in my vocabulary for the words to explain what I meant. “There are only two choices. We both go, or we both stay, because there is absolutely no scenario where I go anywhere without you.” I slid out of the chair and sat beside her, one hand automatically drifting over to stroke Skip’s fur. “And I will not make that decision for you.” I couldn’t. She’d fought so hard to recover from everything she’d endured, and I would never intentionally do anything to upset the equilibrium she’d found.

She glanced at me, and then back to Skip. “You don’t have to.”

“What…um, what?”

“I already know what I’m doing.” She sat up straighter and squared her shoulders before turning her head to look at me. “I’m going with you.”

I’d come out here prepared to discuss and dissect, examining every possibility, every pro and con, hoping to persuade Melissa to come with me if I were chosen, before I ultimately did whatever was best for her continued physical and emotional security. Somewhere along the line, I’d lost control of the conversation. “Honey, you…”

She gave her head a sharp shake, setting her long, dark hair swaying. “No, Ells, listen. Didn’t you hear what I said in there? We’re not safe, not really. Not here, not anywhere.”

I was relieved to hear more anger in her voice than fear or sorrow, but I hoped the anger wasn’t directed at me. I was still confused. “How does that translate into volunteering to go to a fallback location?”

She let her gaze drift out to the herd of goats, a small smile teasing at the corners of her mouth as she watched Wilhelm nudge one of the nannies away from a morning glory vine climbing the fence, claiming the snack for himself. “It might feel safe here, but it’s not. It might be safer than a lot of places, but there are too many of us. This was bound to happen, these people wanting to take what we have.” She turned back to me, and I saw a determination burning in her gray eyes. “One thing I do know is I am not…
not
…sitting here and waiting for a bunch of marauders to come try to kill us. Or worse. We’ll go somewhere they don’t know about, and we’ll make that place safe.”

I knew exactly what ‘or worse’ meant. I took her hand and gave it a squeeze. She surprised me by tugging me to her, and I wrapped her in a lopsided hug, squishing Skip in the process. He didn’t mind, wiggling between us and demanding to be included. “All right. We’ll go together in the morning.”

***

I knew Bethany wouldn’t like our decision, but even the next morning it still hurt to see her so upset.

“I can’t believe you’re all leaving me. We’ve been roommates ever since you…um, for almost two years now.” She unlatched the wire gate to the chicken enclosure and tossed in a handful of feed. The hens swarmed while the rooster stood to one side and scratched at the dirt, surveying his little kingdom.

I knew what she’d almost said, but it didn’t bother me like it used to. “I’m sorry, Beth, I really am. You know if Melissa wasn’t on board, I wouldn’t even consider it. But we have to do what we think is best, and so does Rebecca.” Wilhelm bumped me in the leg, hoping to get past me and reach the chicken feed, but I shoved him back, and he trotted off, his little tail twitching in what I felt was a very rude manner. “Besides, we might not all be chosen.”

Bethany snorted. “Of course you will. I know it. You and Rebecca are strong fighters, so if you’re willing to go, they’ll need you.”

“We’ll need fighters here too, for when the marauders come.”

She scattered a few more handfuls of grain for the chickens before replying. “Yes, but there are plenty of good fighters who have wives, kids…hell, a couple of them even have parents or grandparents here. They won’t leave. Unattached fighters willing to go colonize, or whatever this is, that’s a high demand thing.”

She was probably right. “But Melissa…” I began.

“Melissa is a perfect fit. She’s been working in the kitchens since the beginning. Feeding the people at the outposts, while they’re busy building and securing and patrolling, somebody has to do that. Plus, she’s some kind of animal whisperer.”

That was totally true. Her first words when she began recovering from her captivity were to Skip, and it soon became clear she had a special affinity for animals. Which was why we currently had seven adult goats and two kids gnawing the shrubbery to stubs. She often worked at the livestock enclosures, both inside and outside the Compound, and when there were goats to be had, she gleefully brought home as many as she thought she could get away with.

I felt pretty shitty about leaving Bethany behind, though I couldn’t change my decision. “I’m sorry.” It was the best I could offer.

Bethany gave a sad smile as she latched the chicken enclosure. “I know, honey. I’ll miss you, but I understand. Anyway, I went and talked to Rich this morning. He said the West neighborhood is getting crowded, and they want to use the houses on Alder Court for some kind of manufacturing project. They were going to annex the next block, but we don’t have time to build more wall right now. So those people need new housing, and I’ll have roommates here. I won’t be alone.”

Melissa leaned out the back door. “Hey, Ells, time to go!”

I gave Bethany a quick hug and turned away, my eyes more than a little misty, and went out front to meet Melissa. She was on the sidewalk with Rebecca, who was vibrating with impatience.

It took about ten minutes to arrive at the council chamber. It was a grand name for a nondescript event room at the community building in the central neighborhood. What had once hosted birthday parties and baby showers was now the command post where our safety and survival were orchestrated.

We watched people come and go for a few minutes, speculating on who might be selected, and trying to guess the skills of the few people we didn’t know. Finally, we went inside and were directed to where the council members sat at a long table. We each went up to one who was currently unoccupied, gave our names, job skills, and training, and that was it. The council knew most of us personally, and they would meet that afternoon and evening and decide who was suited to the job and how to divide up the teams. We were to report back in the morning for the results.

There was too much to do to sit around dwelling on whether we would make the cut. Rebecca had a guard duty shift coming up, and Melissa was due in the kitchen. Many residents’ jobs didn’t allow them a lot of time to cook for themselves, or the time to garden or obtain enough food to be self-sufficient, and the communal kitchen filled that need. In addition, for the work we did for the community, everyone was entitled to eat there if they chose, or to receive portions of things like bread, pastries, or stews to supplement what they were able to provide for themselves. I wondered how we’d manage food preparation and distribution wherever we went.

If we were chosen.

I headed off to Liz’s house, still the main collecting point for books, documents, and information of all kinds. My current task was to help sort information the fallback teams might need, and make four sets. Sometimes I could allocate a whole book, if we had others containing the same information. Other times I had to use our dilapidated desktop copier to reproduce the material. As a former Library and Information Sciences major, this was right up my alley.

As I worked, I was grateful for the scavenging crews, who had obtained several good laptops, a few tablets, and some solar chargers. We normally used the generator at Liz’s to power the office equipment, but I didn’t know what the situation would be for the fallback locations. We’d include a couple of solar charges and alternate power sources with each information package, as well as some material Liz had saved to flash drives in the early days of the outbreak before internet function was lost.

With teams about to be chosen, I felt an increasing sense of urgency and worked late into the evening. When I arrived back at the house, everyone was there and every bit as exhausted as I was. We had dinner, then decided to watch a movie, not something we often did. But it had been sunny and was expected to remain so—according to our freakishly accurate weather prognosticators—and the batteries tied to our solar panels were fully charged.

Melissa hooked up the DVD player while Rebecca sorted our limited movie collection. “What should we watch?” Rebecca asked, gravitating toward cases with things blowing up or bleeding on the covers.

“Nothing violent or scary,” Bethany said decisively. “Too much of that already.”

“Fine,” Rebecca grumbled, “but I’m not watching some giggly chick thing, either.”

Melissa settled the discussion by choosing a goofy comedy. We managed to put aside the uncertainty and anxiety associated with the many ways our lives might soon change. We chatted and laughed and ate homemade potato chips—of which Skip had more than his share—before heading off to bed to await the coming day’s news.

***

Bethany had an early shift and was already gone when I awoke. I found Melissa and Rebecca in the kitchen, eating scrambled eggs and some of the leftover biscuits Melissa had brought home the day before. Melissa pointed to a plate she’d fixed for me. I grabbed it from the counter and sat at the table. Rebecca had even made us instant coffee. I wondered where she’d been hiding that particular luxury.