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“
He needs medical help,” a woman’s voice protested. “Maybe there’s someone with a little experience who can do something—or at least tell if it’s A7 or not.”

Daylon shifted aside and I saw the woman sitting by the couch. She saw me at the same time and her eyes widened. Then everyone turned and looked at me.

“
I came to see if you need anything.” I decided not to pretend I was ignorant that something was going on. I approached the couch and glimpsed the top of someone’s head on a pillow. “You have an sick person in your group.”

“
Didn’t think your council lady would let us in if she knew so we kept it to ourselves.”

“
You’re right. She wouldn’t have.” I met his stare, letting him know I could be just as hard-assed as he. “And she’s right. You got a sick person you should be in quarantine or outside the wall.”

“
With no running water, electricity or food,” the woman said. “He’s just a little boy. He deserves to lie in a clean, warm place. All we know is that he has a fever. It could be some normal virus, meningitis or God knows what.”

A thin, middle-aged woman put her hand on the other’s shoulder. “Lainie, the boy was sick when we picked him up. And he’s been bitten. There’s every chance he’s infected. These people have a right to be afraid. We all should be.”

“
Quiet. If the worst happens, I’ll handle it. I’ll do what needs to be done.” Daylon turned his attention to me. “What are you gonna do? Go tattle to your council?”

I glanced around at the other people, none of whose names I could recall. There were a couple of big guys who could probably stop me from leaving if they wanted to, although they didn’t appear ready to lunge and grab me. The situation was serious. We’d all had firsthand experience of how quickly things could spin out of control. Group safety was more important than the welfare of a single person.

Then I looked down at the boy who was about eleven or twelve. His dark brown hair was plastered to his pale forehead and he was breathing through his mouth, shallow breaths that barely lifted his chest. He looked pretty much like my mom had just before she’d died—the first time.

“
You don’t want to hesitate when the time comes,” I said.

“
I won’t,” Daylon replied.

I nodded then walked from the room.

Daylon followed me out of the house. “Don’t lose any sleep. I’ll take care of this. I swear.” He held out his hand.

I stared at it, not feeling much like shaking and sealing our unspoken agreement. Just then the front door of my house opened and Ashleigh hurried down the steps and across the lawn toward us.

“
There you are. I didn’t know you’d gone out.”

“
Were you supposed to keep me distracted?” I asked, seeing her flirting in a whole new light.

“
He knows,” Daylon said. “He’s seen the kid.”

“
The kid has a name. Jeff.” She gazed into my eyes. “You’re not going to say anything to anyone, are you?”

Before I could answer, the sputter of an engine interrupted our conversation and two vehicles turned onto the road, headlights playing over the houses. The motor-scooters pulled up at the curb looking like clown rides beside the hulking motorcycles. Janice Myers and her yes-man, Barry Jensen dismounted.

Janice smiled as she walked toward us. “How’s everything? Are you settling in okay? All your people doing well?”

Ashleigh looked at me and I paused, considering what to say next.

* * * * *

Chapter Four

I held my breath and watched Brian, waiting for him to rat us out to that annoying Myers woman with her fake smile and her shellacked hair. Would she drive us out tonight? They had armed guards policing the town, but our people were armed too. It might come to a stand-off. Daylon wouldn’t want to back down and since we were already squatting, it would be hard to get us to leave. My mom and I had occupied more than one apartment after being supposedly evicted.

I cringed at the threat of confrontation. We’d all been through enough horror without indulging in this kind of drama and power games. God, I just wanted to crawl into a warm soft bed and go to sleep. Was that really so much to ask for?

The moment passed. Brian said nothing and Daylon walked toward Myers with an equally fake smile on his face. He threw off his gang-leader persona and reverted to the high school history teacher he used to be—something he could’ve tried earlier when we were attempting to make a good impression on the council. “We appreciate your hospitality. Everyone’s enjoying the amenities. You don’t know how precious running water and electricity are until you’ve lived without them.”

“
I’m glad you’re comfortable. How about that older couple? Sytek I believe their name was. Traveling must have taken a lot out of them. I’m sure they’d appreciate resting up for several days.”

Daylon gestured toward the house on the other side of Brian’s. “The Syteks are staying there if you want to meet them.”

“
That’s all right. It’s been a long day and I’m anxious to get home. I just wanted to stop by and make sure you’ve been taken care of. You mentioned earlier you’d be willing to help out,” Myers continued. “A local farmer could use help with his harvest. George Wilkins has made a deal with a rancher a few counties over. He’ll trade feed corn for the man’s cattle and the rancher will supply beef for the town this winter. But acres of corn must be picked by hand since we can’t afford gas to power the harvester.”

Daylon nodded. “No problem.”

“
You’re welcome to stay in Durbinville as long as the harvest takes.”

“
We’ll stay as long as we can, but if the weather changes we’re heading south.”

“
Fair enough.” Myers extended her hand and the two leaders shook on the deal without bothering to consult with the little people who followed them.

We all watched until Myers and Santa had ridden away, then Daylon spoke to Brian. “Thanks for holding your peace.”

Brian stared back at him. “You’ve put the entire town in danger by bringing that boy here. I suggest you stay right by his side tonight because it doesn’t look like he’s going to make it till morning. I have an axe you can borrow.”

“
I’ve got a weapon. I’m good.”

Brian dipped his head. “All right then.” He headed back toward his house.

I trotted to keep up with his long-legged stride. “I’m sorry about lying. You can understand why we did it.”

“
I do and you’re right, Janice wouldn’t have let you stay if she’d known.” He paused on the doorstep. “I just wish you hadn’t lied to
me
after I vouched for you. You could’ve told me the truth.”

“
But we don’t know you. We didn’t know what you might do.” I rested my hand on his arm, trying to recapture the earlier connection between us.

Brian looked at my hand then pulled away to reach for the doorknob. “You don’t have to be my babysitter anymore and I don’t expect any kind of ‘payment’ for letting you stay here so you can stop the games.”

He strode inside. I trailed after him, feeling as tacky and cheap as a Dollar Store Barbie knock-off. He’d read me right. I was back to my old games of manipulating a guy for my benefit. Recently I’d tried to stop doing that and stand on my own, but old habits die hard.
Like mother, like daughter.

I followed Brian upstairs. Freckle-faced Fes had gone home and Jake and Maureen were already in their room. Brian closed his bedroom door without another glance at me.

I entered my little slice of Americana, stripped to my underwear and crawled underneath the wedding ring quilt. But as exhausted as I was, I couldn’t sleep thinking of Jeff dying next door and what poor Daylon might have to do to him afterward. Also, if I was being honest, thinking of Brian across the hall. He seemed to be a genuinely nice guy, the kind of guy I’d never been attracted to or dated. Unfortunately, an edge of danger and roughness in a man had always beckoned me. Yet here I was wishing I could cross the hall and climb into bed with good-guy Brian.

The simple truth was I didn’t want to sleep alone. The night was cold, dark and lonely and the landscape inside me was as bleak as the endless Midwestern plains. I turned on my flashlight, picked up the Magic Eye book from the nightstand and stared at a picture of blue waves until I could see dolphins swimming through them.

Jeff was still alive the next morning. All of us gathered in the house where he lay breathing in, breathing out, holding on to life by sheer willpower. Most of us were convinced he’d be dead soon and that he’d rise and have to be put down. Only Lainie, who’d been mothering the kid since we found him wandering by the side of the road, still clung to the idea that he had some other illness. As if that would be any better with no hospital or doctors to treat him.

Our group’s mood was low. We huddled, talking and snacking on coffeecake some kind soul had sent in our care package yesterday. I spotted Brian passing out cups of instant coffee and made my way over to him, intent on trying to patch thing between us, but before I could say anything Daylon made an announcement.

Darkness shadowed his eyes from his night-long vigil. He looked worn and older than his forty-some years. “We’ve been asked by the town council to work on a nearby farm today. I’ve agreed—work in exchange for the town’s hospitality. Hope nobody has a problem with that. But somebody has to stay with the boy. I volunteer to do that unless any of you is prepared to follow through.”

“
I’ll stay with you,” Lainie said. “He might regain consciousness and need me.”

I suspected she also wanted to make sure Daylon didn’t jump the gun. Not that he’d kill Jeff, but he might behead him afterward as a preventative measure. Lainie would rather see the boy buried intact.

No one else volunteered. Who would rather sit a deathwatch than be outdoors on a cloudy October day? There was nothing more to say so we filed outside, leaving Daylon, Lainie and Jeff behind.

“
Fes will give some of the group a ride,” Brian announced. “We’ll be working for George Wilkins. His family chose to stay on their land rather than move into town. Now their crop’s ready and they’re harvesting and trading it for beef for the town.”

Fes’s dusty pickup turned the corner and pulled up to the curb. Jake and Maureen, the Syteks, Mary, the other Mary and Tanesha all piled in the truck bed. The rest rode their cycles. I rode in the cab between Fes and Brian and with the hamper of food for lunch clasped in my arms.

“
Where’s the big guy, Daylon,” Fes asked.

“
He’s sick,” Brian answered.

“
Sick?” Alarm bells went off in his voice.

“
Just a stomach bug. Maybe food poisoning.”

“
Oh.” Fes turned the wheel, heading for the main road. “I heard this morning that two of the patrols took down out-of-towners again yesterday. The Winchells killed one and George and Jim bagged three. With our two that makes six in two days.”

“
You don’t usually have that many?” I asked.

Fes shook his head. “After those first weeks, things died down.”

I smiled at his unintentional pun and looked out the windshield at the guard tower by the gate. The guards waved us through with smiles far too chipper for so early in the morning. Then the open road was before us with fields of corn rolling by on either side. Those acres of corn were daunting. The idea of a little over a dozen people making any kind of dent in harvesting it was ridiculous. But there were worse things to do with a day then pick corn. I wouldn’t complain. The labor was worth the soft bed and hot shower I’d enjoyed.

“
How’s the farmer going to transport the corn?” I asked.

“
Get ahold of a semi and figure out a way to gas it up, I suppose. He only has to drive as far as the next county.”

“
This is corn for cows not people, right?” I knew little about anything green and growing.

A small smile tilted Brian’s mouth and I felt a spark of happiness at the break in his somber expression. Maybe I was forgiven. “That’s right. Feed corn is fed to animals or ground into cornmeal or used for a lot of other products. Ethanol for one.”

“
In the future I suppose we’ll all be planting gardens and hunting if we want to eat,” I said. That’s a bit too Little House on the Prairie for me.”