Year One (28 page)

“If none of this had happened, if things were just the way they used to be, and I'd asked you out for a drink, or maybe out to a movie, would you have agreed?”

She waited a beat. “What kind of movie? It matters. If you'd have asked me to go to some foreign art film with subtitles, I'd have said no. That's no way to relax after a day in the ER.”

“I've never seen a foreign art film with subtitles.”

“Then maybe.” Those dark chocolate eyes stayed steady on his. “Sometimes it's hard to go back there, to try to remember the way things were. But maybe. Why didn't you?”

“I was working up to it.”

“Well, the way things stand now, you missed your chance for movie night. Got anything else?”

“I don't want to mess anything up, make things weird between us. We've got to work here, and we've got to build that structure. So, if you're not—”

“Oh, for God's sake.”

She rolled her eyes as she clamped a hand on the back of his head, pulled him down until his mouth met hers.

He felt his mind melt. Just melt. All that longing, all that wishful thinking beat into reality. He held there, beat, beat, beat, until he felt her hand press against his pounding heart.

“I don't feel weird.” With her big, beautiful eyes on his, she breathed out, slowly. “Do you?”

“I'm not sure. I should make sure.”

He lifted her to her toes, took her mouth again. He didn't ask himself why he'd waited so long. Why question what seemed perfect?

“No. I don't feel weird.”

“Good. We should take that walk. Talk to Max, talk to Bill.”

“Right.” He let her go, reminded himself they had priorities.

“Then we should keep walking. To my place.”

His gaze sharpened on hers. “Your place.”

“My bed. We've got a couple hours. Like you said, I need a break. I think you need one, too.”

“I've wanted you a long time.”

“Maybe not as long for me because I'd have been surprised if you'd asked me to a movie. But somewhere in Pennsylvania, not long after we met Arlys and Fred and Chuck, I started wanting you.”

“We should close up.”

“Yeah.”

She set up the walkie as she always did in case of a medical emergency.

“Rachel?” They went out, closing the door behind them. “I ought to tell you, I'm pretty, well, pent up.”

“Hmm.” She tipped him a smile as they walked together through the odd light to the front entrance. “Lucky for you, I have a cure for that.”

Within the hour, Jonah considered himself cured.

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

In the big living room with its comfortable sofas and beautiful old chestnut floor, Max accepted the offered beer. He wasn't sure what to make of this invitation, but calculated Jonah and the others gathering tonight wanted to get a better sense of him and Lana.

Since he wanted to get a better sense of them, it worked out well.

He hadn't brought up any of the reservations circling through his thoughts. Not when he could all but see the stress sloughing off Lana, not when he saw the pleasure she'd gotten from putting flowers in a vase in what was—for now—their bedroom.

Not when he'd seen the child—their child—moving inside her.

He could keep his concerns and doubts to himself for now, at least until he'd gotten a better lay of the land here. But the incident with Flynn, the ugliness that had rolled off the men who'd made a point of trying to bait the boy, that stuck with him.

“Katie and Fred will be down in a minute.” Rachel lit a few more candles before sitting beside Jonah on the facing sofa. “They're get
ting the babies settled down. Arlys just went over to pry Chuck away from his continuing quest for Wi-Fi. We appreciate you coming over. I know you're still settling in yourselves.”

“How about the rest of your group?” Jonah asked.

“Sorting it out.”

“Good. I can give you a hand with that tomorrow. Furniture, supplies, that sort of thing.”

“We appreciate it.”

“You and Katie and the babies live here,” Lana said.

“There weren't as many of us when we first got here,” Rachel told her. “But we ended up sticking pretty close. We're here. Jonah and Chuck and Bill—now Will, too—next door, Fred and Arlys on the other side of them. We've been together the longest.”

“Lloyd Stenson took an apartment across the street, and Carla Barker's in one of the apartments over Bygones. They'll be here tonight.” Feeling his way, Jonah studied his beer. “We'd already planned to meet tonight. We decided, after you came in, your group should be represented.”

“In what?”

Jonah's gaze flicked up to Max's. “We're just over three hundred now. For the most part people get along. Everyone contributes.”

“And everyone's still dealing with trauma,” Rachel continued. “What they lost, what they've gained, you could say. What they've been through. Some get together for a kind of group therapy, rotating houses. Others find different ways to cope. Working the gardens, crafting circles, hobbies. Lloyd builds things. We're working on a greenhouse—that's a community project. And he cleaned up the playground equipment so the kids can play while people are planting or weeding. We've got some putting bands together, a book club, prayer groups.”

“We've got people who rotate looking after the animals,” Jonah added. “We'll need to add to that with what you've brought in.”

“You're saying that, for the most part, people have found a way. Found their place.” Lana sipped water, considered. “But not everyone.”

“People are what people are,” Jonah commented.

“Such as the bunch who went after Flynn today.”

Jonah nodded at Max. “Don and Lou Mercer? They're just basic assholes.”

“Flynn's not. If he were, they'd have been seeking medical attention.”

“It's not the first time they've looked for trouble,” Rachel told them. “Or found it. Which is the reason for this meeting.”

She glanced over as she heard the door open, heard voices. “Arlys and Chuck.”

“I need power. I get power, I can dig in deeper. They get me power, I can maybe get over to the AOL headquarters again, see about pulling out the Net.”

Max watched the gangly man in his early twenties with a scruffy goatee and a tangled mess of hair—white-blond with purple streaks—stop dead, gape.

“Holy shit! Max Fallon! It's fricking Max Fallon.”

“I told you,” Arlys began.

“Huh? I wasn't listening.” He bolted over, grabbed Max's hand, pumped like he expected water to gush from a well. “Major fan. I went to your signing at Spirit Books last year, even though I mostly read e.
Under Siege
. Awesome! Personal favorite.”

It threw Max off stride. It had been awhile—too long, he realized—since he'd thought of himself as a writer. “Thanks.”

“Max Fallon,” Chuck said again. “This is wild.”

“And this is Chuck,” Arlys said. “Our basement dweller.”

“That's me. You got beer? Cold?”

“Fred chilled them down,” Jonah told him.

“Excellent.” He got one, twisted the top. “So, you're the Max and … sorry, I wasn't listening. Lucy?”

“Lana.”

“Max and Lana. You brought in close to a hundred people? More awesome.” He chugged some beer. “What's it like out there?”

“We followed your signs, your route, so the way was clearer than we expected. Trouble spots here and there. We avoided when we could, dealt with it when we couldn't.”

“Raiders? Bunch of assholes. Kill you dead for a can of beans.”

“Here and there,” Max said again.

“We ran into some outside of Baltimore. We lost three people. It would've been more, but…” Chuck trailed off, glanced at Jonah.

“It's all right. We had Uncannys with us who set up a fire wall. It drove them back.”

“The torched motorcycle and Jeep,” Lana murmured. “The charred remains in the Jeep. We went by there.”

“Avoid when you can,” Jonah said. “Deal when you can't. We have sentry posts, manned around the clock. Harley was on the north road when you came in, and you got through because…”

“We read each other.” Max heard the door again, more voices, relaxed a little when one of them was Will's. “He knew we weren't Raiders or looking to harm.”

Max rose when Will came in with a man obviously his father. Same jawline, same eyes. Max gripped Will's hand. “You found him, just like you said you would.”

“Yeah. Dad, this is Max and Lana. They helped me get here.”

Bill Anderson didn't shake hands but took Max, then Lana, into bear hugs. “Anything you need, anytime. You gave me my boy back.”

“With or without us, he wouldn't have stopped.”

“Means the world to me.” Bill held up a bottle of wine. “From my private cellar.” Grinned and winked.

Fred danced down the stairs. “You're Will. Bill's Will.” She dashed to Bill, hugged hard. “I'm so happy for you. I'm Fred.” She tipped
her head to Bill's arm, smiled at Will. “I helped make the signs. With a little faerie power.”

Will took her hand, kissed it, making her giggle. “Oh, I bet that's Lloyd and Carla. I'll get it. Katie's coming, and we'll all be here.”

Max let it flow around him, taking stock. Clearly Lana enjoyed the moment—people, conversation, no worry about where they might be the next day, the day after.

He judged Lloyd about the same age as Bill, hovering around sixty, with a wiry, almost springy look about him. Carla, sturdy of build, hair hacked short, took stock of him, Max thought, as he did her.

Katie jogged down the steps, already apologizing. “Sorry. Restless babies. Are you moved in next door?” she asked Will.

“Lock and stock. Wasn't that much stock anyway.”

When she dropped down beside Jonah on the sofa, Will eased down on the arm of Arlys's chair. “Maybe we can find time to catch up.”

“Sure we can.” She lowered her voice. “I'm sorry about your mom, your sister.”

“I know.” He laid a hand over hers. “And your parents, Theo. A hell of a lot to be sorry for.”

On the sofa, Rachel tapped Jonah's knee. He shifted, looked a little reluctant, then shrugged.

“Okay, I'll start. Rachel, Arlys, and I had a conversation this morning, even before we added ninety-odd people and livestock. We survived, and we've gone a long way toward making New Hope home. I know getting power up's a priority, and so's security. We need to add supplies to that—medical especially—and that means scavenger and scouting crews.”

As he spoke, Arlys pulled out a notebook, a pencil.

“It might be time to have a town hall,” Lloyd suggested. “Introduce our newest neighbors, call for more volunteers.”

“Yeah. Before we have, I guess what we'd call a public meeting,
we want to talk some things over. I guess everybody heard about the Mercers giving Bryar a hard time last night, then Aaron.”

“I heard if you hadn't gone out, moved them along, it might've been more than trash talk from the Mercers. Troublemakers,” Carla added. “Some are just born that way.”

“Maybe. They tried to cause some trouble with a boy in Max's group today.”

“I heard about that, too.” Carla studied Max. “And how they backed off when you got toe-to-toe.”

“Troublemakers and bullies. Some are just born that way.”

“We need to ask ourselves what we'll do if it's more than giving a hard time. So far this sort of thing's mostly been words, a couple punches.” Jonah paused. “But Bryar shouldn't be afraid to take a walk at night. Nobody should.”

“Almost everybody's armed,” Carla put in, “even people who—and I'll hit the Mercers again—shouldn't be.”

“Kurt Rove,” Bill added. “Sharon Beamer. A few more I could name.”

“We need a plan. We need structure.” Rachel laid a hand on Jonah's knee. “Rules, laws.”

“Once you have laws, you need those who enforce them, and those who litigate and legislate.” Lloyd frowned over steepled hands. “Some will object to being told what they can and can't do. Who writes the laws, who enacts and enforces them, who decides on the consequences for breaking them?”

“We're starting with a blank slate, right?” Jonah asked. “Maybe we start with broad strokes. With common sense.”

“An it harm none,” Lana said, then held up a hand. “Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt. It's our first rule.”

“Sounds like a good one.” Bill smiled at her. “We'd have to break it down some. Harm to another person, harm to property, harm to animals. Hoarding supplies, because that causes harm.”

“We can lay it out as for the common good.” Arlys continued to write. “But that takes us back to enforcing, and consequences.”

“Policing,” Jonah said and looked at Carla.

“I was a small-town deputy, so yeah, I know about small-town squabbles and dynamics. It's a little dicier when you've got more weapons than people—and when some of the people have what we'd call unconventional weapons.”

“How much trouble have you had from Uncannys?” Max asked.

“Not much. A couple of kids raising a little hell,” Jonah explained.

“They're mostly testing their abilities,” Fred put in.

“Yale Trezori blew up a tree, Fred,” Chuck reminded her.

“I know, but he didn't mean to, and scared himself. He's only fourteen. I think…”

“Go ahead,” Rachel prompted.

“I think if we could set up a kind of school or training center for the kids, or even people really new to abilities.”

“Hogwarts,” Chuck said, poking her in the ribs.

“Sort of. Bryar would really be good at it. She's so patient.”

“Do you have anyone in your group who'd qualify?” Rachel asked Max. “Who'd be willing to teach and corral kids?”

“Yeah, we've already started that.” He looked at Arlys, gave her two names.

“We could set it up at the American Legion hall,” Fred said. “It's only a block off Main so the kids could walk. I could talk to Bryar and if she's willing, Aaron would be. He'd have an excuse to be with her.”

“It's a good idea.” Jonah looked back at Max. “Would the people you named help structure it?”

“I'll talk to them.”

“Great. Carla, are you willing to do the policing?”

“I'm willing, Jonah, but will people be willing to accept the authority? Also, I've never been in charge, and I couldn't do it alone.”

Though he'd initially thought of asking Bill, Jonah had reassessed. “I was hoping Max would be willing.”

Max lifted his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because you know how to be in charge,” Jonah pointed out. “And for it to work we need everybody represented. You have a couple of police in your group. That would round it out.”

Max shook his head. “Mike Rozer, yes. He was a big-city cop, about a decade of experience. He's steady. The other's Brad Fitz, and he's got experience, but he's a hothead. And he's bitter. It's not a good combination.”

“Okay. Would you do it?”

Before Max could speak, Lana touched his arm. “You got us here safe. You kept people from losing their heads. Everyone, almost a hundred people, who came here with us knows that, and looks to you for that. With you as part of this, they'll feel part of this.”

“You'd want me to do this?”

“I … I think you're meant to do this.”

“All right.” He took her hand. “All right, we'll try it. But you should choose another from your people, and an Uncanny. It gives balance.”

“Diane Simmons,” Arlys said without looking up from her notebook. “She's quick-thinking, stable, and doesn't tolerate bullshit.”

“Shapeshifter,” Katie added.

“I agree, Diane and Carla are sensible women,” Lloyd began. “And first impressions here say the same about Max. But spelling out the laws, and having the community at large accept them, accept the authority of the people we've named, is another matter.”

“I was hoping you'd spell things out,” Jonah said. “You're smart and you're fair, and nobody here would say otherwise. People respect you, Lloyd, so if you lay it out—and it might not be the fair way, but it's the best way right now—like it's just a done deal, most people are going to accept it.”