Defiance: A House Divided (The Defending Home Series Book 2) (6 page)

Zach and Dale couldn’t be further apart. Which was why it was hard for Dale to believe that she could like both of them at the same time.

Slowly, he put any thoughts of jealousy out of his mind and drew his attention back to the hushed voices and those assembled. Perhaps the only real difference between this funeral and the others Dale had been to was that everybody here was armed. Surely the cartel knew by now that he had been the one to fire upon them from the knoll near the television plant. If so, both sides would more than likely be looking for vengeance. With Sheriff Gaines, that was normally accomplished in a fairly predictable fashion. Action and reaction. Which made anticipating a counter-attack little more than a simple calculation. But the cartel operated differently. They had assaulted Dale’s fortress head-on in the beginning, but he knew that the next attack would come at the time and in the manner he least expected.

Listening to the others offering their final respects, Dale couldn’t help wondering about Reid’s execution the day before. If he’d felt before that Sheriff Gaines and Ortega couldn’t be reasoned with, he knew it now without a single shred of doubt. How did you negotiate with men who were willing to leave you face down in the dirt in order to take what you had? He had contemplated this very question over the last few days and weeks when the violence between the two groups had begun to escalate. Like many of the conflicts around the world in the days before the virus had thinned the global population, the current crisis had no clear end in sight. They would either learn to coexist or destroy one another.

Historically, victory often went to the side with the greatest resources. That meant that Dale and those under his care were at a distinct disadvantage. If more of the cartel came to town or the townspeople were somehow turned against Dale’s cause, it would only be a question of time before they were overwhelmed. A delicate game of diplomacy was underway, one Dale would have to play if they wanted any chance of surviving the weeks and months ahead.

With the ceremony done, they began heading back toward the house in twos and threes. Nicole was the last to leave and Dale stayed by her side until she was ready to go.

When they were alone, she no longer felt the need to hold back. “I blame you for what happened,” she told him. “Your brother loved you, looked up to you and for that you got him killed.”

Her words felt like hot stinging needles buried deep in his flesh. “I expected you to feel that way,” he told her. “You loved him very much and you’re grieving and I guess part of that means you’re gonna look for someone to blame. I never asked for you and your family to come here. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be forever grateful for everything you’ve done for us. But the four of you came of your own free will.”

She regarded him from the corner of her eye. “All you had to do was give them what they wanted and Shane would still be alive. Because of that I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive you.”

“I won’t deny I’ve made mistakes,” Dale said quietly. “There’s no rulebook for how to act in a situation like this. All I can do is listen to my conscience and pray that I’m doing right by me and everyone else under my care. Sometimes that means making tough decisions. Sometimes that means people die, people we love, so that others may live. I won’t pretend that I can make those decisions better than everyone else, but so far the responsibility has fallen squarely on my shoulders. If you and your parents wish to leave, I won’t stop you. I’ll be saddened, but I won’t stand in your way.”

Nicole shook her head and Dale wasn’t sure if she was telling him she wanted to stay or whether leaving under the current circumstances was no longer an option.

For a moment, he considered pressing her on the subject but thought best to just let it go. Instead, he assured her he wouldn’t stop until Shane’s killers were made to pay, whether that meant at the end of barrel or at the end of a noose. The promise seemed to get through to her because Nicole took his hand, mouthing the words, “Thank you.”

By the time they made it back to the house, Dale saw that Dannyboy was back on his feet, mingling with the others by the pumphouse. They were looking at something on the structure itself and talking excitedly amongst themselves.

He arrived and saw that somebody had spray-painted a symbol of some kind onto his pumphouse door. A circle wrapped around the letter V.

“This wasn’t here when we came out earlier,” Sandy said, puzzled.

The house had been locked up while they were out back but Dale decided to make a sweep of the property anyway to be sure whoever had done this wasn’t still lurking around. After they were done, each of them returned to the pumphouse.

Dale ran his fingers over the red spray paint and saw that some of it came off on his fingers. “Sandy’s right. This is still fresh. Whoever this was, they must’ve done it while we were burying Shane.” He checked the door and found that it hadn’t been tampered with. Dale couldn’t tell what he found more unsettling, the fact that someone had so brazenly trespassed on his land or that the meaning behind the mysterious symbol had yet to be deciphered.

“You think it’s a threat?” Brooke wondered aloud.

“Looks like one to me,” Zach said, gripping his pistol. “A tag on the pumphouse. You don’t need to be a whiz to figure out they’re laying claim to what’s ours.”

“They wouldn’t be the first,” Dale said, trying to sound calm. “The real question is who are the ones laying the claim and why don’t they come right out and ask for it man to man?”

Just then a figure appeared at the end of the driveway. Duke let out a series of vicious barks before Dale gave the order to heel and leveled his shotgun.

The figure approached, dragging a small cart behind him. Duke continued growling as the man approached.

“Is that pooch of yours ever gonna cut me some slack?” Billy asked, annoyed and maybe a little hurt. He glanced around and whistled when he saw the bodies stacked in front of the house. “I heard the shooting yesterday and wasn’t sure whether you folks were still alive or not. Gave you fifty-fifty odds.”

“How generous of you,” Dale said.

Billy smiled. “Glad to see I was wrong.”

“We still have a lot of cleaning up to do,” Sandy explained, straining a smile. “If you’re offering to help, we’ll gladly accept.”

Billy bent over laughing. “Wish I could, but I got a place of my own that’s in desperate need of attention.” His gaze drifted past Sandy’s shoulder toward the pumphouse. “And I see I’m not the only one.” He was talking about the graffiti.

Dale furrowed his brow. “You get one too?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Billy spat.

“You know who did this, old man?” Zach asked.

Billy fixed him with a penetrating glare. “Don’t think I know this one.”

“It’s my father,” Colton said proudly. Zach ruffled his son’s hair and rested his hand on the back of his neck.

“Oh, I remember now. You’re the felon.”

Zach’s features darkened. “That was a long time ago.”

Billy let out the kind of laugh which made it clear he wasn’t afraid of causing offense. “If you say so. Far as I’m concerned, anyone who survived the scourge has earned a clean slate. CEOs and street cleaners are equals now. It’s what you do with the rest of the time you’ve been given. That’s what matters most.”

Zach eyed the rest of the group. “Maybe the old man’s not as crazy as he looks.”

That made Billy chuckle, until his gaze settled over that symbol again. “The folks who left that are nothing but a bunch of looters and vandals.”

“You know them?” Dale asked, curious why Billy knew them and he was still in the dark.

“Not directly, no. But I heard about ’em. See, a man in my profession learns to keep his ear to the ground and his lips sealed tight. Word on the street is they started as a small group stealing non-perishables from abandoned houses. Before long they’d graduated to snatching whatever they could get their hands on. And now it seems they’ve found us, except I don’t have nearly as much worth stealing as you do.” Billy was pointing a grease-stained finger at Dale. “I’d watch out for them if I were you.”

Billy’s warning didn’t sit well with Dale. Even after disposing of the dead cartel members and getting back to work on the removable staircase, Dale was still feeling concerned. The last thing they needed was another group coveting their resources. He was beginning to see now that his strategy of cutting himself off from the rest of the town was coming back to haunt him. More and more, Dale realized he needed to adapt once again to an ever-changing landscape or risk being isolated and destroyed. He needed allies and fast.

––––––––

N
ot long after, Dale called everyone inside. The garage had become something of a congregation zone in recent days, mostly since it faced away from the road and thus offered a level of concealment from attack. But the bushes and trees beyond the edges of the property left it somewhat vulnerable and so Dale had opted to hold the meeting up in his bedroom. That way they could all be present while also keeping an eye out for intruders. There was a lot to do and, as usual, too few hours in which to do it.

When everyone was assembled, Dale cleared his throat and began to speak.

“I remember Walter once told me that the difference between a successful mission and a failure was the debrief that took place between engagements.” Looking around, Dale could see most of what he’d just said had sailed right over people’s heads. “What I’m trying to say is that it’s important to figure out what went wrong and how to make sure it doesn’t happen next time. But before that, we should be congratulating ourselves for repelling Ortega’s attack.”

Not surprisingly, Nicole’s eyes began filling with tears and she excused herself from the room. Ann went to follow her, but Dale asked her to stay. “She’s not alone in losing someone she loved. She’ll be fine, we need to just give her some space.” He turned to Zach, Colton, Sandy and Brooke. “But I didn’t call this meeting so we could pat each other on the back. What happened yesterday wasn’t a sure thing. For a while it was touch-and-go and we need to lay out what lessons we learned and how to better prepare for the next attack.”

“We need more ARs,” Zach said. “I mean, at least one for everyone as well as some night-vision gear in case we get attacked after sundown.”

Dale nodded. “We could definitely beef up our firepower, no doubt about it. I’ll look into the night-vision.”

“I also think we need to stash weapons around the house,” Zach went on. “If those bastards manage to break down another wall, I don’t wanna be caught on the john with nothing to defend myself.”

Colton chuckled, covering his mouth as he tried to hold it in. Whenever the conversation offered Zach an opportunity to toss in some toilet humor, he was always quick to oblige.

“Zach on the toilet,” Sandy said, shaking her head. “I’m sure the stench alone would send the cartel running.”

The group let out a collective laugh. Much to everyone’s surprise, Ann joined in, pitching in with a joke about a priest, a bishop and a monk who walked into a bar and asked to use the restroom. The joke itself wasn’t one bit funny, but watching prim and demure Ann let her proverbial hair down had them all in stitches.

Dale felt the muscles in his stomach burning. But more than that, he felt the growing tension rolling off of him in the way that only the best of belly laughs could accomplish. Slowly the room settled, Dale reminding them how important the current conversation was.

“Well, the cartel attacked us with small arms,” Sandy said. “But next time we might not be so lucky.”

“Sandy’s right,” Colton said. “I remember seeing a show on Mexican drug lords and some of them had fifty-caliber Ma Deuces mounted onto Hummers.”

“Just one of those would be enough to turn this place into a block of Swiss cheese,” Zach said, looking around at the myriad of bullet holes already punctuating the room.

Lucky for them, Arizona featured an incredibly arid climate. If they were somewhere else, like Washington State where it rained at the drop of a hat, mold and mildew might be a real problem. At least there they weren’t killing each other over water, Dale thought. Other things perhaps, but not water.

“Something else I noticed,” Colton added. “We need to go through all those rounds and sort them by caliber. Once our initial magazines ran empty, it was taking forever to dig through the 9mm and 30-06s to get to the .223s.”

Dale was writing all this down. “Since no one’s stated the obvious,” he said, “I’ll be the one to put it out there. We need to find a way to stop bad guys from crashing vehicles into the house. Up until then, I’d say we were doing just fine.”

“Sounds great, but how do you propose we protect against that?” Brooke asked. “I guess we could put concrete pillars across the front lawn.”

“Sure, and I could paint them to look like garden gnomes,” Ann offered.

Dale grinned. “I think the only viable option is to dig a trench. Doesn’t have to be very deep or very wide. If the dimensions are laid out right, it’ll be more than enough to stop a speeding truck. I’ll crunch some numbers and see what I can come up with. But more pressing are the stairs Walter and Colton were working on right before this happened. Those need to be attached and made operational as soon as possible.”

Dannyboy stepped forward, his head still covered in bandages. “The fancy defensive stuff y’all are talking about is great, but what’s the point if one guy with a spray can is able to walk right up when no one’s looking?”

“What about an automatic sentry gun?” Colton said sarcastically.

“I’m not kidding,” Dannyboy said, annoyed. “Tech it up all you want. Dig a hundred ditches while you’re at it. But it’s human oversight that leads to most failures. Some folks call it user error. Let me be as clear as I can. Banks, back when they still existed, used to invest billions in anti-hacking firewalls and protective measures, and yet getting around their security was often as easy as leaving an infected thumb drive with the bank’s logo lying around for some poor employee to find. The minute he plugged it into his computer, bam, he’d infected the entire network. Humans are the soft entry point. All I’m saying is let’s make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to us.”