Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

The next evening, they set up camp in the woods beside the road, just deep enough in the tree line to not be visible to any travelers. Carly began giving Mindy a lesson on assembling the tent, though Shadowfax kept interrupting. The horse wanted attention and wouldn't take "Shoo!" for an answer. She bumped Carly with her nose until Carly laughed and surrendered, standing up to scratch behind Shadowfax's ears.

"Honey, I'm heading out to look around," Justin said. He took one of the crossbows from the wagon and a quiver of arrows.

Carly smiled over her shoulder at him. "Be careful!"

Justin smiled back at her. "Always am."

"Mind if I tag along?" Stan asked.

Justin was somewhat surprised by his offer, but pleased. Maybe Stan would turn out to be an asset, after all. He seemed to take security seriously, at least. He was always vigilant while they were on the road, and Justin had to admit Carly had been right. He felt better about leaving Carly and Dagny to scout ahead, knowing that Stan and Mindy were watching over them.

He was impressed by Mindy as well. Stan had told him that Mindy was a crack shot, but that had been an understatement. The woman was nearly at sniper level in her accuracy. She told Justin that one of her father's favorite weekend pastimes had been trap shooting, so she'd had years of practice.

As they headed into the woods, Stan shook his head and glanced over at Carly, who was still petting Shadowfax. "Carly sure has a way with animals. Did she always have the horse?"

"No, we found her shortly after we set out on our journey." Justin smiled to himself, remembering his dismay when Carly had announced cheerfully that she'd named—and thus claimed—the horse. His smile widened to a grin as he realized he'd been doomed already by that point. There was no way he could have told her she couldn't keep Shadowfax. He'd already been trying to protect her tender heart.

There was an "Oomph!" and a thud from behind him. Justin turned around to see Stan sprawled in the leaves littering the forest floor. His foot was wedged beneath a root. Justin gave up entirely on the idea of stealth since anyone within a quarter-mile radius would be able to hear Stan, who was about as quiet as a three-legged elephant. The man had many good qualities, but grace was apparently not one of them.

"Sorry!" Stan muttered. Justin extended a hand to help Stan to his feet. Red-faced, he brushed the bits of leaves and dirt off his clothes. "So, how did you and Carly meet?"

Justin explained how he had spotted Carly in Juneau. As he told the story, he led them deeper into the woods, searching for any signs of people passing through recently, such as disturbed leaves, footprints, or litter. So far, he hadn't seen anything and he relaxed a little.

Stan let out a soft whistle. "You knew her father? That's one hell of a coincidence."

"Carly doesn't think it was a coincidence," Justin said. "She thinks all of this was meant to happen, that there's something we're supposed to do."

"What do you think?"

Justin hesitated. "I'm not sure, honestly. Her hunches have a way of turning out to be correct."

"Like with the Cederna vaccine?"

"Yeah." Justin hoped Carly's hunch about Stan and Mindy would turn out to be correct as well.

Stan was no fool; he saw the same problems Justin did with staying up north, where food was becoming scarce, and he was correct that a larger group would be a less attractive target for thieves. Still, if the decision had been Justin's alone, he would have refused them.

He repeated to himself that it was for Carly and his baby. She and Dagny would be safer, especially if he didn't have to leave them alone while he scouted for danger and searched for food. He told himself this was what Carly wanted, and it was probably an excellent way of easing himself back into human society, like dipping one foot into a pool before plunging in. He couldn't deprive Carly of what she wanted simply because he was socially maladapted.

And, though he chastised himself for it, he was jealous. A small, selfish part of him wanted to keep Carly and Dagny all to himself. He knew it was childish and ridiculous, but every time Carly laughed at something Mindy said, or chattered with Stan, his jaw clenched, and he could feel a muscle twitch in his cheek. And as angry as he was at himself for being so irrational, he couldn't stop the way he felt. He could, however, control how he would react to it, and he was determined none of them would ever know.

He recognized there was some level of emotional immaturity involved. It was, after all, the first time Justin had ever been in love, so he'd never learned to cope with feelings like those. Analyzing it didn't help him to overcome it, though. Maybe in time he'd be able to let go, just as he'd be able to let go of the equally irrational fear Carly would leave him once she had other options.

To distract himself from troubling thoughts, Justin asked, "What about you and Mindy? How did you meet?"

"High school sweethearts," Stan said. Justin pushed a branch out of the way for him and he ducked under it. "Honestly, I don't remember a time before I knew Mindy. We were in the same kindergarten class. The only time of our lives we were ever separated is when we went off to college. Everyone assumed we'd break up because long-distance relationships are so difficult, and, well, we'd both find temptations in our path. But we stuck to it, even though we were only able to see each other on the weekends for a while. We got married right after we graduated."

Justin wondered what that sort of stability must be like. Except for his last few years of school when his foster homes had all been in the same school district, he had never stayed in the same area long enough to develop many long-term friendships or relationships. He had told himself he didn't need them, he was a loner—an island—without the sort of social dependency that others seemed to have. Finally he understood it had been a shield he drew around himself. By insisting he didn't need anyone, he protected himself from the pain of loss.

"You're fortunate," Justin told Stan.

Stan grinned. "Yeah, I am. Mindy's great. She's wicked smart and has a great sense of humor. You guys haven't really seen much of that yet because... well, Mindy doesn't really cope well with change. Her mom died when she was very young. Since then, she sort of shuts down and closes herself off when she's outside of her comfort zone. This whole thing with the Crisis and now having to leave our home, it's been real hard on her. I mean, yeah, it's been hard on everyone, but Mindy is falling back into that avoidance thing she does."

Justin understood. Maybe better than Stan realized. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

Stan stumbled and had to catch a nearby tree to keep from falling down again. Justin's lips twitched.

Stan looked distinctly uncomfortable for a moment, and Justin wondered if he was regretting being so open. His suspicion was confirmed when Stan hastily amended his previous statement.

"Oh no, you don't need to do anything. She'll be fine. Really. It's just... uh... a matter of adjusting, you know? Carly has been great with her. She keeps Mindy talking, keeps her engaged in the situation. Everything will be okay, really."

Justin nodded. Stan cast a quick glance at him.

"Listen, Justin, I want to say thank you."

"For what?"

"For bringing us along. I know you didn't really want to."

Justin didn't reply. He kept his eyes on the trees ahead.

"Mindy and I might not have made it on our own," Stan said, and his voice was so low Justin had to strain to hear it. "I knew you and Carly were our best chance. Maybe Carly is right about things happening for a reason."

Stan stepped on a branch that snapped as loud as a gunshot through the quiet woods. He grimaced in apology. Justin shrugged to show it wasn't a problem, and they walked on in silence for a few moments before Stan broke it with a statement Justin didn't expect.

"I envy you, you know."

"Envy me?" Justin was startled enough to come to a halt. He stared at Stan and gave a small shake of his head.

Stan stopped, too. His face went pink, but he met Justin's eyes squarely. "You're fortunate. You know you can protect your wife and daughter. You know you'll be able to provide for them. I don't have that comfort. You have skills. All I have is desperation."

Justin started walking again. He thought about what it must be like for Stan, and it was disquieting. He remembered watching Carly during Dagny's birth, knowing there was nothing he could do if things went badly. Stan had to live with something like that all the time. It was difficult to force out a response. "You'll learn. You've got guts and a good head on your shoulders. That's all you need."

Stan tripped again and tumbled into a bush. Justin couldn't hold back the grin. "Though it might not be a bad idea to learn to walk more quietly."

Two days later, their small group stopped the wagon in the middle of the road and stared at the fifteen-foot-high fence that blocked the end of the bridge. They each took turns looking through Justin's binoculars.

"What in the world?" Mindy muttered and handed the binoculars to Stan so he could take another look.

"Stacked shipping containers with a garage door between them. It's not temporary, whatever it is."

"Can we go around?" Stan asked.

Justin shook his head as he consulted the map again. "There's swamp on either side; protected wetlands with no roads. We'll have to backtrack."

They all groaned. Half a day's travel, wasted. It was brutally hot, and all of them were a little short-tempered. Justin used the hem of his sleeveless T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead as he studied the wall.

"What the hell is it?" Stan scratched his head.

"It's an island. Look." Justin laid the map flat on top of the wagon bed. "Town named Colby, and you can see there's plenty of land around the edges of the town for farming. They've got themselves a nice set up, and it seems like they're looking to protect it. There's only one road bisecting it, and if they've got a wall on the other side, blocking the bridge, they're got a damn near impenetrable fortress. At least until the raiders start banding together into tribes."

Carly put the binoculars back in their case and stashed them under the wagon seat. "Well, maybe they'll let us through."

"For a price, I'm sure," Justin said dryly.

They approached the gate at a slow, cautious pace, keeping their hands out so as not to alarm anyone who might be watching them. A face appeared above the gate.

"That's close enough!" he shouted, and they froze in their tracks. "What do you want?"

"Just passing through," Justin called back.

"Sorry, stranger, no one comes into our town but our own."

Justin nodded. "We'll be on our way then."

The man's head vanished for a moment and then reappeared. "My people want to know about your horses. Are you willing to trade for them?"

"We're willing to trade, but not for the horses."

"You sure? We could make it worth your while."

"I'm sure."

The man shrugged. "All right. Be on your way."

Dagny chose that moment to let out a wail. The man jumped, and his jaw dropped. "Is that a baby I hear?"

Carly hopped up into the wagon and picked up Dagny. "There, there, Mommy's here."

There was a woman's soft cry, and a female face surrounded by blonde hair peered down over the edge. She said something to the man, and he called out, "Can you hold it up?"

"She's a baby, not a Super Bowl trophy," Carly said indignantly.

Both heads vanished back behind the wall and Carly could hear the rumble of voices. A few shouts. A woman yelled, "They have a baby with them! They're safe!"

The man's face appeared above the fence again. "All right, we're letting you in." He didn't sound welcoming, almost as if he were resigned to it.

"Maybe we shouldn't go in there," Stan said. He moved closer to Mindy and his hand drifted down to his belt, where a gun was holstered.

"We'll be fine," Justin replied as he eyed the faces peering down at them from the top of the wall.

"How do you know?" Stan asked.

"Trust him," Carly said before Justin could speak. "Justin has really good instincts about this kind of thing. He wouldn't take us inside if it wasn't safe."

"Look, Carly, Justin, I don't mean any offense, but—"

Justin cut him off and nodded toward the people who were gathering on top of the wall to look down at the strangers at their gates. "Look up there, Stan. What do you see? More importantly, what don't you see?"

Stan glanced up. "What am I looking for?"

Carly was curious about that, herself. She saw nothing odd or out of place.

"Guns," Justin said. "Only one person has a firearm, and it's a shotgun, not the ideal weapon for defending a wall. They must have no ammo left."

"Or, maybe they're just keeping the guns in the town," Stan suggested.

Justin shook his head. "They'd want them up there, if they had them, at the first line of defense."

There was a chinking sound, like a chain being pulled, and the garage door in the center of the wall began to rise. They drove the wagon through the entrance, and the silence around them was unsettling. A large group of people stood on the other side of the gate, lining the road on both sides, and more crowded on the wood stairs that led to the top of the wall. It was so quiet Carly could hear the leather creak on Shadowfax's harness. To her relief, she saw children among them and a few pregnant women.

Shadowfax rumbled and tossed her head, unaccustomed to seeing so many people together. Carly understood the feeling. She held Dagny tightly and stayed near the spot where the gun was taped under the seat.

They stopped, and the gate was lowered behind them. The people crowded around their wagon, but kept back a few respectful feet. Carly's breath began to come faster as her anxiety rose.

"Forgive the crowd's curiosity." Carly recognized the speaker as the older man from on top of the wall. He was on the slender side and tall, with gray stubble that lined his jaw. "You're the first people we've let in since the Crisis, and yours is the first baby we've seen with any outsider. Name's Tom Clark. This lovely lady is my wife, Cynthia."

"Pleased to meet you," Cynthia murmured. Her eyes were fastened on Dagny, as were her husband's. The man stared at the baby as though he had never seen one before. His eyes flicked up to Carly. "Were any of you Infected?"

"All immune," Justin replied. "You've seen the baby. Now step away."

Sam sat up and gave a soft rumble to punctuate Justin's words. Not a growl, but a rumble that made his point, nonetheless. The man noticed him for the first time and retreated, his eyes wide. "Is that a wolf?"

"Yes," Justin said, his tone curt. Tension tightened his shoulders, and Carly wanted to hug him. She could tell Justin wasn't concerned for their safety as his hands hung loose at his sides, not hovering at the ready near his weapons. She supposed it was being around so many strangers and having so many people stare at his wife and baby that made him tense.

"My God, he's huge."

Carly scratched Sam behind the ears. "He's getting big, aren't you, boy?" Sam glanced back at Carly, and as she'd hoped, some of the wolf's tension eased. It wouldn't do them any good if Sam snarled and scared the people before they could trade and acquire permission to pass through their town and continue on their way.

"Please, come to our house for a bit of refreshment," Cynthia said, beckoning to them to follow her. Her smile was warm and friendly, as though she already knew them. It was striking after months of encountering nothing but wary travelers, bandits, or those whose minds had been burned away by the fever.

Justin considered her offer and then nodded. Following Tom and Cynthia, who were strolling hand in hand like a pair of teenagers, they drove the wagon down the main street to a lovely powder blue Victorian on the corner, its porch in deep shade.

"We can sit out here to watch your wagon," Tom said. "None of my people would steal from you, but I'm sure you'd feel more comfortable keeping an eye on it."

Carly sat down in the wicker chair beside Justin. Tom and Cynthia took a seat on the porch swing. Carly noticed they were still holding hands, and Cynthia leaned her head against Tom's shoulder with familiar affection.

Stan sat down on the porch steps, and Mindy settled on the step below him. Stan drew her body back against his, and Carly saw him press a kiss against the top of her head. A young woman emerged carrying a pitcher of lemonade with slices of lemon bobbing at the top. She set the tray on the little wicker table and poured a glass for everyone.

"Our daughter, Andrea," Tom said. Andrea was shy, though, and all she did was give them a quick, blushing smile before she darted back into the house. Carly lifted her glass, and Justin nudged her. She knew what he meant. She waited until Tom and Cynthia had sipped from theirs.

It was tart and sweet and cool. Everything a glass of lemonade should be. Carly sighed with bliss. All of their drinks on the road had been tepid due to the heat. "This is wonderful!"

"There's a cold spring trough in the basement," Tom said. "Big old stone thing that looked like a bathtub. I never knew what it was for though, until Old Miz Marson told me they used to keep milk jugs in there to keep them cool. Just a matter of pulling out the plug to get it going again."

Justin took another sip of his lemonade before setting the glass on the table. "You said we're the only ones you've let in since the Crisis?"

Tom nodded. "When the first case of the Infection was reported nearby, we built the wall. Tommy Burton moved some of those containers with the crane from the junkyard. It wasn't a popular decision, I'll tell you that. Some folks wanted to leave until we told ‘em they couldn't come back if they did. And there were some people who tried to force their way in. Couldn't let them do that." His voice held a hint of regret, but his jaw was set in firm, resolute lines. "It was the only way all of us were going to survive. And it turned out we were right."

"Who is ‘we'?" Justin asked.

"Town council. Me, Doc Cotton, Old Miz Marson, Clayton Bierce, and Shelt Jackson. Shelt was sort of our honorary mayor."

"Was?"

"Died of a heart attack two months ago. Goddamn shame to live through the apocalypse and be felled by a faulty ticker."

"Language, Tom," Cynthia chided him with a gentle bump of her elbow. "There are ladies present."

"Beg pardon." Tom glanced at Carly and Mindy with a sheepish little smile. "I picked up a foul mouth while I was in the service and never managed to change my wicked ways, despite the gentle nagging of my better half, here."

Carly, who had grown used to Justin's colorful language, smiled at him and waved a hand to show she didn't mind. Mindy giggled and poked Stan, whom she had teasingly chastised over the past few days for picking up Justin's habit of swearing.

"Anyways, we put up the gates, kept everyone out, and none of us fell sick."

Cynthia refilled her own glass of lemonade and topped off Carly's. "We've been talking for a while about whether or not it was finally safe, if the Crisis was really over. If the babies are surviving, it must be over."

"How did you manage to defend the place?" Stan asked. "From what I saw on the news—" None of them needed him to complete the sentence. They had all seen what had happened to the authorities who tried to hold back the flood of refugees.

"Road's the only way in." Tom refilled his glass and kept his eyes on it while he spoke. "Couple of folks tried going through the swamp. Wasn't pretty when the ‘gators got ‘em. Hungry, those ‘gators. Not many deer or other prey about these days. Which brings me to them horses. Where'd you get ‘em?"

"We found the mare," Justin said. "She was already pregnant when we got her."

Tom nodded. "And we can assume the sire wasn't immune to the Infection?"

"I'd say that's a pretty safe bet." As Justin answered, Carly looked down into the yard where Shadowfax grazed, flicking her tail lazily. She had never thought about Shadowfax's mate. Had Shadowfax chosen him or had she been bred by her owners? Did horses mate for life? Had she grieved for him? The thoughts were unsettling, and Carly pushed them away to concentrate on the conversation.

"Yet, the filly is healthy." Tom glanced over at Carly. "What about you, ma'am? Was the father of your baby immune?"

"He's my husband," Carly replied, nodding at Justin. She unwound the light blanket she put around Dagny to keep the sun off her and draped it over her shoulder. Dagny was starting to get fussy, and she grew downright grumpy if her meals were delayed when she indicated she wanted them.

"You folks get married after the plague?"

"We did." Carly winced as she unwound a lock of hair from Dagny's clutches. "We met a Reverend Davis when he stopped at our home to trade."

"Reverend Davis, did you say?" Tom's brows rose in surprise. "Older fella? White hair?"

"Yes, that's him."

"He and his wife passed this way about a week ago."

Carly smiled. "I'm glad to hear they're all right."

"I shoulda let them in," Tom muttered.

"You made the only choice you could at the time, Tom," Cynthia said. She patted her husband's arm in comfort, and he laid his hand over hers. "How could we know for sure it was safe?"

"You're right." Tom smiled at her. "As usual." He turned back to his visitors. "Where y'all from?"

When Carly told him her home state he whistled. "Alaska! Far from home, girl."

Carly gave him a small, wistful smile. "I couldn't stay. I probably wouldn't have made it through the winter."

"What are your winters like here?" Dagny had finished with her meal, and when Carly lifted her to burp her, Justin gestured for Carly to give the baby to him. He laid her against his shoulder and patted her tiny back gently. Dagny cooed and put her hand against her father's upper arm, opening and closing it as though she were trying to pick up his tattoo.

"A mite cold at times. I haven't seen ice on the swamp in at least twenty years, though. Maybe longer. Usually not so cold as you'd freeze unless you were lying outside bare in it."

Carly could see how Justin's eyes sharpened with interest. Stan had a thoughtful expression. He glanced at Mindy, and they shared a moment of silent communication before turning their attention back to Tom.

"Can you grow food in the winter?" Justin asked.

"Some. Radishes, spinach, cauliflower, that sort of thing."

Justin shifted Dagny to his other shoulder. "You must be growing all of your food if you haven't sent anyone out for supplies."

"We are." Tom looked rather proud of the fact. "‘Course, I think some of us are gettin' sick of being vegetarians, but what are you gonna do? We got a couple of ladies keeping chickens, but we can't produce enough to keep the whole town in meat every day. Not yet, anyway."

"Storm?" Carly called, and the little horse trotted around to the porch obediently. Stan must have understood her concern because he rose from his seat on the porch steps to get a rope from the wagon and tied Storm to it.

"We ain't gonna eat your horses, ma'am." Tom chuckled.

Carly flushed a little, but she was still glad Storm was where she could keep an eye on her.

Sam crawled out from where he'd been dozing in the shade under the wagon and looked for Tigger. He found her in the wagon and carried her over to sit by Carly. He laid his head on her knee, and she scratched the itchy spot on the back of his neck where he couldn't reach. Sam's tail thumped on the porch floor, and he arched his neck under her hand, an expression very much like a smile pulling up his lips at the corners.

Tom shook his head. "And if that ain't the damnedest thing I ever saw."

"I won't even reprove your language," Cynthia said, her eyes wide with interest. "Wherever did you get him, ma'am?"

"Please, call me Carly. I found him as a puppy on the streets of Juneau. I couldn't just let him starve. I, uh, didn't know he was a wolf."

"You lived in Alaska and didn't recognize a wolf when you saw one?" Tom was amused, and he wasn't the only one. Mindy giggled, too, and Carly gave her a playful scowl.

"People seem to think everyone from Alaska is a rugged outdoorsman who hunts bears armed with just a knife. I lived in Juneau. It's not a big city..." Carly's voice cracked as she thought of her hometown, knowing she'd never see it again. She took a deep breath to push back the tears. "But I lived in town all my life. I went fishing with my dad, but that was about the extent of my outdoor experience. The only time I'd ever seen a wolf was in the zoo in Anchorage. Sam just looked like a dog to me."

"How did you tame him?"

Carly shrugged. "I guess he was already tame."

"He's not aggressive?"

"Only when he feels I'm in danger. But he listens to me if I tell him everything's okay. Sam is very smart."

"I'm sure you can understand why some people would be wary of him." Cynthia seemed a little tentative, as though she was afraid Carly would be offended.

"Oh, sure. Justin was kind of leery of him when we first met, and Sam was still a puppy back then."

"And the horses?"

"Carly attracts animals," Justin said with a wry quirk of his lips. "We were followed by a moose for a while in Canada, and I just kept praying, ‘Please God, don't let it decide to become one of Carly's pets.' I had this horrible picture in my mind of the thing trying to crawl into the tent with us."

"You've seen a good bit of the country in your travels." Cynthia poured another glass of lemonade. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and Carly realized that this was probably the first news they'd had of the outside world in a very, very long time. She wished she had something better to tell them. "Can you tell us... Can you tell us what it's like... out there? We've seen just a few survivors, and you were the only ones who had a baby. A living baby, that is."

A question came unbidden into Carly's mind, but she wasn't about to ask when the answer could be so horrible...

"We've seen a fair amount of other people," Justin said. "But no other babies or pregnant women. I can't estimate a total number of survivors, but it's high enough that the grocery stores along our path have been emptied to the bare walls. Food is becoming scarce, and people are getting desperate enough to do... things they wouldn't normally do."

They were all silent for a moment before Cynthia spoke. "We need more watchers on the wall."

Tom hesitated for a moment, as though he wanted to say something but thought the better of it. He changed the subject. "Those who survived, did they share a common characteristic?"

Justin and Carly exchanged glances. "I have a theory for at least some of them." Carly explained about the flu shots from Cederna and the documents they had discovered.

"There was bound to be some level of natural immunity even though the lethality rate was artificially high," Justin said, "as with our horses and the wolf, but we have no way of researching this. How many people remember who manufactured their flu shot, anyway?"

"I do," Tom replied. "It was Mantis Medical. I remember seeing it on the form I signed and remembered it because it reminded me of a praying mantis."

The sun had dipped low in the sky during their conversation, and the crickets were beginning to chirp. Tom rose to his feet and put his empty lemonade glass on the tray. "You folks are welcome to stay the night, if you like. We've got a few empty houses. There's a barn on the Connell property. Your horses would be comfortable in there."

"Thank you." Justin glanced over to Stan and Mindy to see if they had any objections. Mindy thanked Tom and Cynthia, and Carly realized Mindy hadn't said much during the conversation, something that was unusual for her.

"What's wrong?" Carly asked her as they climbed into the wagon, pitching her voice low so as not to be overheard.

"Do you trust them, Carly?" Mindy asked. She settled into the seat beside Carly and kept her eyes on the hands clasped in her lap.

"What do you mean? I don't think they're out to hurt us, if that's what you're saying."

Mindy gnawed on her lip. "No, that's not what I mean. It's just... this seems too good to be true, you know? Lemonade on the porch? It made me remember all of those summers I used to spend at my grandma's farm when I was a kid. It doesn't seem like things like that should exist anymore. Not with how much things have changed."

They drove the wagon to the house, and Tom walked ahead with Justin and Stan to show them the way. They passed a group of young children playing kickball in the street, who froze in place to silently watch the wagon pass as their ball bounced away into the underbrush unnoticed. Carly understood what they were feeling. It had been a year since the Crisis began and Tom and the rest of the town council had decided to seal off the town, a year since they had seen any outsiders. And it had been a year since Carly saw any children at play. She pressed a kiss to Dagny's forehead and thought of how lovely it would be if there were other children for her to play with.

The Connell house turned out to be a turn-of-the-century Craftsman style bungalow with a low-pitched roof and overhanging eaves. The furnishings inside were simple, functional, and uncluttered, and Carly loved it immediately. Justin took the horses out to the barn while Carly explored the rest of the house with Mindy.

"This place is amazing," Mindy said. "I'm trying to remind myself to be alert and suspicious, but it's just so nice here, like a slice of the world the way it used to be. I almost expect to sit down in the living room and turn on the six o'clock news. Did you notice the door wasn't locked when we got here?"

"What's worth stealing?" Carly replied.

Mindy shrugged. "I just feel like we've landed in Mayberry."

As if to reinforce the image, their neighbor, Mrs. Sutton, brought over a basket of vegetables for their dinner, with a few eggs tucked inside from the chickens she kept. Carly almost cried as she thanked her. Had she become so changed by life in this new world that neighborly kindness was an oddity?

That evening, after a delicious dinner of fresh vegetables, canned chicken and eggs made into a stir-fry with rice, Carly took a shower. The water was cold, but it felt like heaven. Those quick wipe downs at camp and occasional dunks in a creek or pond didn't do the job. It was the first time she'd felt clean in weeks.

She sat on the bed, brushing her hair, and watched in puzzlement as Justin re-dressed in dark clothing. "Where are you going, honey?"

"Exploring," he said. "Carly, this place seems too good to be true. I'm going to try to find out if it is."

Carly hid a smile. That was her Justin—ever-cautious, ever-suspicious. Of course he would want to go scouting, but she couldn't resist teasing him about it a bit. "What are you looking for? Bones of other travelers they've lured inside to their doom?"

"Ha ha." Justin took off his guns and laid them on the dresser before he replaced them with knives.

"Justin, if their intent was just to rob and kill us or something, they could have done it easily. Why feed us and loan us a house if they meant us harm?" She had to admit, the normalcy of the place was disconcerting, but she didn't think they were in any danger.

"I don't know." Justin rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a slightly sheepish look. "But I can't trust them. Not yet. Keep Sam in here with you and Dagny, all right? I locked Storm and Shadowfax in the barn and secured it with one of our padlocks, so they should be safe." He bent and pressed a gentle kiss to Dagny's forehead and smiled when she cooed.

"Please be careful," Carly whispered as he pulled her into a hug. Even though she didn't think the residents were aggressive or meant them any harm, they might react badly if they found a man dressed in black lurking around in the bushes.

"I will." He lifted a lock of her caramel-colored hair and tucked it behind her ear as his eyes grew soft. "You know, I still think your hair is the most beautiful I've ever seen." He kissed her and called for Sam, who'd been lying out in the hallway with Tigger curled up beside him. From there, he could look down through the railing at the top of the stairs and keep an eye on the foyer. Justin shut him inside with Carly after giving him a scratch behind the ears. Sam jumped lightly onto the end of the bed and turned around in circles before plopping down with a contented sigh. Tigger paused to rub up against Carly's legs before she hopped up beside him and snuggled down against Sam's belly.

"And so we wait," Carly said. She sighed. She didn't think she'd ever get used to it.

It was an excellent night for spying. The overcast sky hid the moon and the town lay silent in the darkness, the only sound the chirping of crickets and the croak of the bullfrogs from the swamp. Justin slipped silently from house to house, pausing to listen, to watch, to wait.

He stopped beneath a window. The room inside was lit by a lantern, and its warm, yellow glow spilled out to pool on the ground outside. His breathing was slow and even, and he crouched, resting lightly on the balls of his feet, perfectly balanced and motionless.

A man and a woman were talking inside, discussing the options for planting their winter garden this year. A child's voice interjected and asked his father if he could help with a math problem. Justin was surprised, but pleased; apparently, Colby had a school.

He listened for a bit more and then continued on his way. An ordinary family with ordinary domestic discussions. He shook his head. It was difficult for him to accept that the place might be exactly as it seemed, an untouched remnant of the country he thought was dead and gone.

He heard voices and ducked back among the shrubbery. The owners of those voices drew closer, and soon enough, he could make out the words.

"... kinda cute." The speaker was young, male, late teens or early twenties, Justin judged. "She can't be more than twenty or so and that's only a couple of years older than me."

Carly.

Another young male voice replied, "Yeah, but she's married. And she has a kid, too."

The first young man scoffed. "He's old. She probably just shacked up with him for protection or something."

Justin flinched. Having similar doubts deep within him was bad enough, but to hear them voiced with casual cruelty by an outsider was much worse.

"So, what are you gonna do? Ask her out? I'd watch my ass if I were you. That guy looks pretty fuckin' mean, and if he finds out about it... Well, let's just say I'd rather not get on his bad side."

That drew a laugh. "Might be worth it. Besides, Uncle Clayton's on the council. He wouldn't—"

"You think that guy gives a damn about our council? He..." The voices trailed away as the young men rounded a corner and went down another street.

Justin realized he was clenching his teeth and forced himself to relax. His gut burned with fury, and he had to fight the temptation to go put the fear of God into them.

He turned around as he rose and found himself looking right into the face of Tom Clark.

To say Justin was surprised would be an understatement. No one had managed to sneak up on Justin in decades. He had to admit, he had been concentrating on the conversation so intently, he probably wouldn't have noticed if a buffalo strolled up behind him.

"Hello," Tom said pleasantly, as though he had run into Justin in the parking lot after church services.

Justin cleared his throat. He considered trying to come up with an excuse for lurking but decided not to insult Tom's intelligence. So he simply stood there, looked at him, and waited to see what Tom would want to do.

"Come over to my place. We'll have a beer."

That wasn't the reaction Justin was expecting, but he nodded and followed Tom across the lawns to the porch where he'd drunk lemonade a few hours earlier. "Take a seat. I'll be right back."

Justin lowered himself into one of the wicker chairs. He heard the creak of the screen door open and then footsteps on hardwood floors that faded with distance. Tom returned in just a few minutes with two bottles of beer, one of which he handed to Justin. The bottle was cool and wet, likely from having been stored in the basement spring Tom had mentioned earlier. Justin twisted off the cap and lifted the bottle in salute before he took a sip.

"Last two," Tom said as he opened his own. "For all I know, they're the last two beers in this part of the country, unless you've got some in that wagon of yours."

"I do."

Tom lifted his eyes heavenward. "Praise the Lord!" he said heartily, and Justin chuckled. "But even if they were the last two, I'd be glad to share ‘em with you."

"Thanks," Justin said. He was a little touched by that.

"I ain't gonna chide you for checking around. Hell, I'd prob'ly do the same in your shoes, but I'd rather save you the effort. Your family is in no danger here. These are good folks."

"I've seen plenty of situations where ‘good folks' went bad," Justin said.

Tom shrugged again. "You gotta do what you need for your own peace of mind. I'm glad you were out and about, actually, because I needed to ask you about something, and I thought it would be best to approach the subject... discreetly."

"Go on."

"I ain't gonna lie to you, son, we're in trouble, here. You don't strike me as someone who'd take advantage for your personal gain. I saw that tattoo of yours, and if you were so loyal to your unit that you'd etch it into your skin permanently, I'm guessing you're a man of honor. And if I'm gonna take a risk on someone, I'd rather it be someone like that."

Justin shook his head slightly. "How did—"

Tom chuckled. "You ain't the only one with binoculars, son. I saw it while you all were still on the bridge. And I was in the service myself, remember? I know a military tattoo when I see it. Never seen that particular symbol before, but I recognize it for what it is. You got it on that ring, too."

Justin looked down at his hand. "It was Carly's father's. He was one of my instructors."

"Small world." Tom sat back in his chair and steepled his hands beneath his chin. "I'm tellin' you now, because I think it's something you're gonna need to mull over in your mind before you make any decisions. We're poorly armed. Hard to believe, I know, a town in the South would be in this situation, but it's the truth. We've only got a few guns worth a damn and ammo that will fit only a couple of ‘em." Tom scratched his head and stared thoughtfully out into the dark. "I don't want to believe this of my neighbors, but if anyone's got shells, they're keepin' them for themselves. Tried to tell ‘em if raiders get past our walls, their deer rifle ain't gonna save them, but you know how people are."

Justin did. That's what scared him.

"My hope is you'll trade some of that ammo to us."

"It's not all mine," Justin said. "A good bit of it belongs to Stan and Mindy. I'll be willing to trade with what's mine, but I can't speak for them."

Tom took the last swig of his beer and set the empty bottle down on the porch floor beside his chair. "They didn't seem all that interested in speaking for themselves this afternoon."

Justin had found it odd, too. He wondered if they thought their opinions were irrelevant and made a mental note to talk to Stan about it in the morning. Carly and Justin were the ones who would ultimately make the decision about where their little group would go, but he wanted to hear what Stan and Mindy thought about it.

Tom fished in his shirt pocket and withdrew a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He lit one with a sigh of pleasure, as though it had been a long while since his last smoke. The orange glow of the tip illuminated his face briefly when he inhaled. "Let me ask you something. Where you aiming to go?"

"The original goal was Florida."

"Original?"

Justin smiled slightly and took a sip of his beer. "Plans change."

"What were you hopin' to find in Florida?"

Somewhere like this, Justin thought. At least, that was what Carly wanted. A safe home, a community that could be self-sufficient. He considered different ways of answering the question and finally decided to opt for simplicity. "A home."

Carly realized she must have fallen asleep when she woke to the sound of Justin opening the bedroom door. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Did you find anything?"

He shook his head. "Nothing suspicious." He sat down on the bed and pulled off his shoes. "Carly, I don't want you to get your hopes up..."

"Of course not," she lied. "The subject hasn't even come up. We don't know if they'd even be interested in letting us stay." She couldn't help the rising hope that swelled within her, like floodwaters behind a dam.

"Right. And I'm going to have to do a good bit more looking around before I'm comfortable."

"Certainly. I wouldn't expect anything less from you." Carly walked on her knees to where he sat and began to rub the tension from his shoulders. "You always do what's necessary to keep me and Dagny safe. I know that, and I appreciate it."

"I was worried you'd think I wasparanoid."

"Not at all."

He swiftly turned around, and before she knew it, she was lying on her back beneath him. Her breath caught in her throat at the heat in his eyes.

"Did you notice all of those young men today?"

"No..." She had no idea where he was going with his train of thought.

"They stared at you," he said.

"Everyone was staring at us."

He trailed a line of kisses down the side of her neck. "They're going to try to steal you away from me."

"That's just silly, Justin. I'm a married woman with a baby." She suddenly realized the hot light in his eyes was jealousy—jealousy over men she hadn't even noticed. "Justin... Did you hear something while you were out there?"

"Yes."

She took his face between her hands and forced him to look at her. "Justin, I'm not going anywhere. I love you. I don't know what those guys said, but it doesn't matter. You're the one I want. The only one I want."

He kissed her, his hands buried in her hair, a kiss of passion tinged with desperation. She couldn't blame him for his fear. How could she? Everyone he'd ever loved had left him, from his mother leaving him in front of the fire station to the foster families who returned him like a broken toaster when he proved too difficult to handle. Trust would come with time, she thought, and when he started on the buttons of her pajama top, there was no more rational thought.

Justin wasn't beside her when Carly woke the next morning. She sat up, pushed her tumbled hair out of her face, and glanced over at Dagny, who was contentedly chewing on one of her feet. She let out a happy little coo when Carly picked her up, and she checked her diaper, finding it dry. Justin must have changed her. Carly settled back on the bed and opened her pajama top. As she did, Tigger hopped up on the bed beside her to doze in a patch of sunshine.

One of the best parts about nursing, she thought, was the sweet intimacy of her baby looking up with trusting adoration in her eyes while Carly nourished her. Sometimes, she thought her heart might burst from the sheer amount of love it held for this tiny little person she and Justin had created.

And from the warm welcome they'd received, it looked like her baby might have a safe and happy home in a place that recalled the world she thought was dead and gone. In Colby, she could grow up normally, maybe have a husband and children of her own. Carly could picture that, sitting on the porch swing with Justin, both of them with silvered hair, watching as their grandbabies played in the yard.

There was a tap at the door, and Carly pulled the blanket up over herself for modesty's sake before calling, "Come in."

It was Mindy, and she carried a coffee mug in each hand. "Morning, Carly."

"Good morning, Mindy. Have you seen Justin?"

"Yeah, he left a couple of hours ago with Tom. He wanted Justin to look at some kind of irrigation thing. I admit I wasn't paying much attention, because when you start talking about ‘gravity-fed water line' and ‘angles of descent,' my eyes start to glaze over." Mindy sat down on the side of the bed and held out one of the coffee cups. "Anyway, I brought you a cup of coffee."

Carly accepted it with delight. "Thank you. Did Stan go with them?"

"No, he went with Cynthia to look over a pond on the other side of town. They want to try to use it for a fish farm, and Stan told them his dad used to work at a hatchery up on Lake Erie. He tried to tell them he didn't know anything about it, but Cynthia still wanted to get his opinion on their setup."

Carly sipped her coffee and sighed with pleasure.

Mindy stared down into her own cup. "Soon, there won't be any more coffee."

Carly winced. She hadn't thought about that, but it was true. There wouldn't be any imports from South America for a long time. Probably not in her lifetime.

"Chicory," Mindy said, as though her thoughts were following the same line as Carly's. "It may grow around here. My grandma said they used to use the ground roots of it as a coffee substitute during the Depression. No caffeine, though."

"Do you know how to find chicory? Where it grows and what it looks like?"

Mindy shook her head. "I'm sure someone around here does or has a book on plants or something. Anyway, the reason why I came up here is because Tom asked you and Justin to come to a town meeting tonight."

"Town meeting? Why?"

Mindy shrugged. "I don't know."

"Were you and Stan invited?" Carly moved Dagny up to her shoulder and patted her back gently. Dagny took the opportunity to grab a handful of her mother's hair and stuff it into her mouth. Carly winced and untangled her daughter's fist.

Mindy hesitated. "I'm not sure. The way he worded it, it could be interpreted either way. Stan and I talked it over, and we're not going to go. If someone asks, just say I had a headache or something."

"Why?"

Mindy picked up a corner of the blanket and twisted it in her hands. "I'm—I'm just not comfortable with it."

"I don't understand." Mindy had always been friendly and talkative with Carly but something about the town had changed that.

Mindy dropped the blanket and rubbed her temples. "Look, Carly, I accept that Stan and I are just along for the ride. You and Justin will be the ones to decide where we go and what we do, that was the deal we made. But I'm not ready to jump in with both feet. I don't know if it's because it's weird to be around so many people after such a long time, or if it's because this place seems to have been oddly frozen in time, but I'm just not... comfortable with it. Besides, you don't want to take Dagny with you, right? Stan and I can watch her for you and have a nice relaxing evening together."

Carly nodded. She wouldn't push. Just like Justin, she had to let Mindy accept things in her own time. Maybe Mindy was afraid of getting her hopes up in case they ultimately decided not to stay. "Did Tom give any information about what the meeting is about? Anything at all?"

"Just that it's after sunset at the church on the corner of Main Street."

"I don't know where that is. Why don't you and I take a walk after breakfast and explore the town a little?"

Mindy liked the idea, so after Dagny delivered a surprisingly large belch, Carly dressed her in one of the pretty dresses Justin had got her for Christmas and wolfed down the eggs Mindy had made her for breakfast. As they left, Sam followed. He drew slightly wary looks from the people they met on the street, and Carly wished she'd thought to bring his leash. That might have made people feel a little bit more comfortable.

The town had a small business district that covered about four square blocks. Some of the shops were still open. Carly saw a chalkboard in the window of a small grocery store that listed the exchange price of various foods in eggs or vegetables. It seemed all of them had gone over to a barter system.

There was even a small book store still in operation, and the rate of exchange was two used books traded for one new book. Carly made a mental note to stop down there when Mindy wasn't with her and get her a book on plants as a surprise.

And speaking of surprises, Carly was startled to find all of the townsfolk seemed to know their names. They greeted her like she was an old friend, though Sam's presence made them keep their distance. One little boy shopping with his mother was brave enough to ask if he could pet Sam. Carly happily gave permission and reassured his worried mother while he stroked the top of Sam's head, which was almost level with his own. Sam gave the canine equivalent of a grin, with his tongue flopped out to the side of his open mouth. He gave the boy's hand a sniff and licked him on the cheek, which made the little boy squeal with laughter.

They met Justin and Tom coming down the street, and Carly kissed Justin on the cheek. "Morning, honey," she said.

"Morning. Out shopping, are you?"

"Window shopping," Carly said. "We didn't bring anything with us to trade. I'm amazed at this, Tom. Your town is still... a town." She finished the sentence lamely. The words she wanted to use to express her surprise at the sheer normalcy of it all wouldn't come.

"Morning, Miss Carly, Miss Mindy." Tom actually tipped his hat. "Are you comin' to the meeting tonight?"

"What's that all about, Tom?"

"I'd rather wait to talk to you when we're all gathered together," Tom said.

Carly glanced at Justin, and he shrugged.

"Yeah, sure, we'll come," Carly said. Mindy had turned away and fiddled with the bracelet she wore, as though pretending she hadn't heard Tom include her in the invitation.

Tom beamed. "Excellent. Just come down to that church over there." He pointed to the steeple on the other side of the little business district. Carly and Mindy hadn't worked their way over there yet. "And then the missus wants to know if you'll come to our place for dinner afterward."

"That sounds lovely. Thank you." Carly glanced over at Mindy, but Mindy wouldn't meet her eyes.

"God, it's almost creepy," Justin muttered as Tom walked on down the street, having tipped his hat to the ladies once more. "I feel like I've fallen into a time warp."

Mindy's eyes followed Tom as he strolled away. "I can't help but wonder what lengths Tom and the other city council members went to in order to preserve this place. Hard decisions had to be made, sacrifices given. They preserved this little gem of normalcy, but at what price?"

Carly imagined what it must have been like for family members returning to find the roadblock, pleading to be let inside to no avail, or neighbors trying to climb the wall or crash through the garage door gate to get inside. She couldn't imagine her own anguish if it had been her parents or Michelle on the other side of the wall. Justin, sensitive to her moods, as always, took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

They enjoyed a very relaxing day. Carly let the horses out of the barn, and they galloped through the large yard. Carly and Mindy sat out on the porch, reading. Mindy was a bigger bookworm than Carly was and had already read all of the books Carly had in the wagon. She'd been delighted to find a shelf full of paperbacks in the living room.

Dagny played with her toys on a blanket spread on the porch floor. Carly called the horses back when they began to wander away, out of fear they'd find someone's vegetable garden and devour a family's food. Sam and Tigger played a rousing game of chase before settling down together on the porch for a snooze.

Mid-afternoon, Justin and Stan returned from "looking around," and they had a delicious lunch of fresh vegetables steamed with rice. Afterward, Carly and Justin curled up on the porch swing together, and Carly read aloud to him from the novel she was currently enjoying, but she didn't think he was listening. When she looked up, his eyes were distant.

She came to the end of a chapter and turned the page.

"Carly?"

"Mmm?"

"If I can't find..." He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression thoughtful. "If it turns out there's nothing wrong, how would you feel about staying here?"

"I'd love it," Carly said with an exuberant little bounce that made the swing creak. The enthusiasm she'd been trying to hold back, waiting until he could be assured the community was all it appeared to be, spilled out of her. She spoke so fast her words tripped over one another. "Oh, Justin, this place is more than I could have hoped for. It's safe, we can grow plenty of food, and I might be able to trade with Mrs. Sutton and get us some chickens. We could have a wonderful life here, Justin."

"We could." His expression was brooding. "I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Maybe they really are what they seem."

"Maybe. The town meeting will tell us a lot."

"What do you think it's about?"

"That's not what I meant. I meant it would tell us about how well the townspeople cooperate, how their government works."

"I can't imagine Tom is an ironfisted dictator."

Justin chuckled. "I think you're probably right. But that could also be a weakness. If there was a hard decision to be made, do you think he could come down on the side of practicality versus emotion?"

"I don't know. He said he was in the service, and you saw his face when he mentioned people trying to force their way in. He's a nice man, but I think he could be hard when he needs to be."

"I think you may be right," Justin said. His eyes still had a distance, indicating he was thinking hard about something

In her makeshift crib, Dagny started whimpering. It was a fruit crate, lined with towels and blankets, that Carly had set up on a small table so they could watch her while she napped. Dagny's real crib was still in the wagon. The thing was so heavy Carly couldn't carry it by herself, and Justin hadn't mentioned bringing it inside yet. Carly wondered if that had some sort of special significance for him, and he would only unload the crib once they had found their new home.

Carly picked Dagny up. Not wet, not hungry... she must just have been lonely. Carly settled back into the swing with Dagny on her chest, where she fell back to sleep almost instantly hearing the comforting thump of her mother's heart. Justin smiled down at her, his gaze soft and tender.

"There are other kids here." Carly kept her voice low to avoid disturbing the baby's sleep. "Boys she could date."

Justin groaned. "I changed my mind. We're leaving. Not one of them is good enough for my baby girl."

Carly laughed. "You don't even know them."

"I don't need to," Justin grumbled. "What about your dad? How did he react to you dating?"

Carly considered his question. "He was very protective while I was still in school. I had an early curfew, and he wasn't hesitant about checking up on me to see if I was where I said I was going to be. I know now he was doing it because he loved me, but at the time, I was the typical teenager, irritated and frustrated by his restrictions. I tried sneaking out once. Once."

Justin laughed. "What happened?"

"The usual—I got grounded, privileges revoked. But the worst part was the look he gave me, like he was so disappointed in me." She sighed and stroked Dagny's downy hair. "I'm glad we were so close when I grew up. It gave me a chance to tell him I was sorry for all the trouble I'd caused him and Mom."

"And he probably told you it wasn't any trouble and he was proud of you."

Carly smiled. "He did. How did you know that?"

He pressed a kiss to the top of Carly's head. "Because that's what I would say to Dagny."

The bell in the tower rang and people poured in from all over the island, squeezing together in the church pews to make room for latecomers. Carly and Justin were seated in the front row, something which made Carly uncomfortable since she had never liked being the center of attention. She felt dozens of pairs of eyes on the back of her head.

Mindy and Stan had stayed home with Dagny. Carly hated to leave her, but she knew a town council meeting probably wasn't an appropriate place to bring a baby, and indeed, she saw none among the crowd squished together on the pews. Cynthia took the place next to Carly. She patted Carly's hand and smiled at her. Her eyes sparkled. "How are you?" she whispered.

"Fine, thanks. Did Andrea come with you?"

"No, she's got a bit of a sniffle. She stayed home. She's watching over my roasted chicken, or at least she's supposed to be, but she might get engrossed in a book and forget."

On the stage, a six-foot folding table had been set up, and the council took their places, Tom seated in the center. Carly tried to match them to their names. The somewhat grouchy-looking elderly lady was, without a doubt, Old Miz Marson. The middle-aged man beside her could be either Clayton Bierce or Doc Cotton, but then she noticed the younger man to his right and decided he was more likely to be Clayton. She'd expected Doc Cotton to be older, on the basis it sounded like an old person's name. She wondered if he was a doctor, or if his real name was Murdock or something along those lines. She hoped for the former. It would be wonderful to have a doctor around for Dagny's sake.

Tom stood, and the murmur of conversation room fell to a respectful hush. "Please stand for the Pledge of Allegiance."

There was a rumble as the audience stood, and hands were placed over hearts. Tom started the recitation, and the people continued, all in one voice. Here, in this precious little pocket of normalcy, America was still a country.

"You may be seated." Tom waited for everyone to settle in their seats before he continued. "As you all know, we've been blessed by the arrival of four new friends. Five actually, if you count the little one."

"And we do," Old Miz Marson interjected.

"Five, then. In the course of getting to know them, I've discovered they're fine people, indeed, and they have much to offer this community. Justin has many skills. Carly has her animals, including two horses, which will improve our farming, if she will consent to allowing them to be used in that fashion."

He glanced down at Carly. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to answer. "Of course. Shadowfax won't mind pulling a plow."

"Thank you. Beyond that, they have a good deal of medical supplies Doc Cotton here thinks could save many lives, things we don't currently have. Now, I'll ask if you all will consider allowing Carly and Justin, Stan and Mindy to join our community."

Carly had half-expected this topic to be broached, but she hadn't expected Tom would ask people to make a decision so quickly. She could tell Justin was surprised, too, from the tension in his posture, but he kept his face impassive.

There was silence for a moment before a voice rang out. "I'll second the motion."

Another followed. "I'll third."

"A vote is called. All those in favor?"

"Aye!" The cry was loud.

Carly's breath caught in her throat, and she felt tears sting her eyes. Justin took her hand and turned his head to face her, a question in his eyes. She gave him a tiny nod, and he responded with a faint smile and a gentle squeeze of her hand. She threaded her fingers through his. Her heart pounded. It was the start of a new life for them, and Carly knew she would always remember how she had felt at that moment, the wild tumult of emotion. Excitement was tangled up in a little trepidation, for it was a big step they were taking. She was both flattered and humbled the community would embrace them so quickly and wholeheartedly. And she was happy, so happy their long journey was at an end, and they could begin the business of building a life for their family. She hoped Mindy would become more comfortable with the idea once she'd had a little time to adjust.

"Opposed?" Tom asked.

"What about that wolf?" someone called out.

Carly turned to look for the speaker. What about Sam? She had thought of all of them as a package deal and had assumed that's how the offer had been intended. Apparently, she was not the only one because the room hummed with whispers and murmurs from the crowd.

Tom held his hands up and silence fell again. "The chair recognizes Mike Yoder."

"That animal ain't safe," Mike Yoder said. He was a heavyset man with ginger hair that continued down his sideburns to join with a matching beard. "It's not a dog. It's a wolf. A wild animal. You can't tame them, not completely. They'll always have those predatory instincts. And you aren't a professional animal trainer, are you Miss Carly?"

Carly tilted her chin up. "No, I'm not."

Mike softened his tone a bit, possibly aware he had struck a nerve. "Never had no training in how to care for a wolf or how to recognize the danger signs in their behavior?"

"No, but—" The tears were threatening again. She tried to remind herself Mike wasn't trying to upset her with his questions, and they were questions that, truthfully, represented valid concerns for someone who didn't know what Sam was like.

"Miss Carly, I know you mean well and you believe the wolf would never hurt anyone, but you're askin' me to bet my child's life on it. And I just can't do that." Having said his piece, Mike sat back down.

Carly stood. She could do it for Sam, though her voice trembled a little from anxiety of speaking before so many people. "You don't know me. You don't have any reason to trust me, and I understand that, but Sam is very special. He's incredibly intelligent and well-behaved. He's never once been aggressive toward peaceful people."

"But he has been aggressive?" someone else called out.

"He saved my life," Carly said. "He saved me after the Crisis because without him to take care of, I might have just laid down and given up. After we started out on our journey, he protected us and defended us when necessary. He brought me food when Justin was injured. In short, I owe this animal my life many times over, and I'll understand if you say you don't want him in your community, but I'll go with him if you say he has to leave."

Another voice began, "But you can't guarantee—"

"Life has no guarantees," Justin said sharply. He stood and scanned the room. "You can't guarantee the person sitting next to you won't go crazy tomorrow and kill people." He took a deep breath and gave Carly a small smile. "Just as my wife said, you don't know us, and you don't know if you can trust us, but I have this to offer you." He pushed up the sleeve of his shirt. "Do you see this symbol? At one time, it meant something—a set of principles and a code of honor—for which I would have gladly laid down my life. Know that I swear on my honor I would not bring that animal amongst you if I had any doubts about your safety."

"Shall I call a vote?" Tom asked the room.

"No," Mike Yoder said. "I retract my objection."

Tom smiled. "So noted. The motion is so carried. Justin, Carly, I'll not ask you to decide right now, since you'll need to share this with Stan and Mindy, but we're formally inviting you to join us."

Carly and Justin rose to their feet. The crowd became a blur as tears welled in her eyes, but she was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. "Thank you," she said to Tom and then to the townspeople. Justin repeated it and gave Carly a quick kiss on the cheek as they sat back down.

"Here." He fished in his pocket and handed her a tissue he must have brought from the house. Carly chuckled even as she dabbed at her eyes. That was Justin, always thinking ahead.

The meeting continued for about an hour afterward, discussing issues with crop planting and the schedule for the gate watchers. As Cynthia had suggested, the number of watchers would be increased, and regular foot patrols would circle the fence around the swamp. The townspeople's level of cooperation was admirable. There were those who disagreed, but logic and reason won out in the end, and issues were resolved by a vote.

After it adjourned, Carly and Justin walked home with Cynthia and Tom, who held hands as they strolled. As soon as they entered the house, they knew something was wrong. Carly smelled burning meat. Cynthia's forehead wrinkled in concern, and she called for Andrea, but her daughter didn't answer.

Cynthia dashed up the stairs and a few moments later, she called down the stairs, her voice sharp with panic, "Tom! Get Doc Cotton!"

Tom didn't wait around to ask questions. He bolted out the door. Justin charged up the staircase, following the sound of Cynthia's voice. He would have been able to run through the town faster than Tom, but he had no idea where Doc Cotton lived, and it would have taken too much time to explain.

Carly went into the kitchen and turned off the gas-powered oven, lest the house catch fire. She met Justin at the top of the stairs, right outside of the door to Andrea's bedroom. Carly could see the young woman was sprawled across her bed as though she had collapsed there, unable to even drag herself up to lay her head on the pillow.

"She has it," he said. "She has the Infection."

Carly's hand flew to her mouth. "She can't, Justin, it's over."

"Apparently not."

Andrea tossed and muttered while her mother tried to hold a thermometer in her mouth.

"But this isn't right." Carly shook her head, bewildered. "Even if she did have it, she should only have mild symptoms right now." Even as the words left her mouth, she remembered her father had seemed to skip over the lightly symptomatic stage into full-blown sickness.

"Viruses mutate. Remember, in some of the cases, stages were skipped. Not everyone followed the same pattern."

"I just don't understand how this could happen. Who did she catch it from?"

"I don't know."

There was the sound of feet pounding across the porch and then the bang of the door as it hit the wall. Doc Cotton—whom Carly had correctly identified at the meeting as the middle-aged man at the table—rushed by Justin and Carly into Andrea's room. After only a few moments, he looked up at Tom and Cynthia, sadness making him appear older than he had before. "I'm sorry, Tom, Cynthia, but she's Infected."

Cynthia stared at him. Blinked. "What?" It didn't sound like her voice.

"She has the Infection."

Cynthia still didn't seem to be processing the news, but Tom sat down heavily on the chair at the vanity table. His face was pale and waxy.

Doc Cotton turned to Justin. "Do you have antivirals in your supplies?"

Justin nodded. Doc Cotton rattled off a list of what he needed.

"Come with me," Justin said to Carly. "I'll need you to read the boxes."

They ran at full speed across the darkened streets. In some of the homes, yellow oil lamp light flickered and human shadows passed by the windows. Besides the chirping crickets, the only sounds were of their feet pounding on the pavement, the harsh rasp of their breath. They reached the barn and threw open the door with a sudden violence that made Shadowfax lurch in her stall and scream.

"It's just us," Carly called to her between pants for air as she crawled up into the wagon and threw back the tarp. "Light. I can't see anything."

Justin grabbed a flashlight they had stored beside the door and shined it on the pile. He repeated the drug names to Carly as she pawed through the stack. "Torlisibol," she said.

"No, Torlisival."

"Are you sure?"

Justin rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know. I can't remember. I should know this! I should—"

She stopped. "Take a deep breath, Justin. Relax. Calm yourself down." Her voice had a calmness she didn't feel. Fear made her stomach churn, and she hoped Justin didn't notice how badly her hands shook.

Justin closed his eyes and took three deep breaths. "Torlisibol," he said.

Carly nodded and added it to the bag. "I've got them."

He helped her to her feet, and they ran back through the darkened town to Tom and Cynthia's house, but when they reached the staircase, they froze in their tracks. Tom sat there, tears streaming down his pallid face, and he held Cynthia in his lap as she wept against his shoulder.

Doc Cotton came slowly from Andrea's room. He paused on his way down to lay a hand on Tom's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Cynthia let out a soft, ragged cry, and Tom closed his eyes as he nodded. The doctor continued down to the stairs. He jerked his head toward the living room, and Justin and Carly followed him.

Doc Cotton sagged onto the sofa and dropped his head into his hands.

"It can't be the Infection," Carly said. Even as she said it, a small part of her mind spoke up to tell her she was in denial. "It doesn't happen that fast."

"Viruses mutate," Doc replied without lifting his head, echoing Justin's words from earlier. "It's become faster, more virulent. Likely more communicable, as well."

Carly's breath caught. "Then we may no longer be immune."

Neither the doctor nor Justin said anything. Carly waited another moment, hoping in vain one of them would deny it.

"Justin, we can't go home to Dagny. We can't risk..." She couldn't continue. Her throat was too tight to speak.

"The whole town has been exposed," Doc Cotton said wearily. "Andrea was having cold symptoms before Tom and Cynthia left for the meeting."

"But how did this happen?" Carly blurted out. "How did she catch it in the first place? No sick people have been here!"

Justin took her hand. He seemed to struggle to find the words. "Carly, we're carriers."

She shook her head slightly. Her mind couldn't seem to process what he was saying.

"It's the only explanation. I told you this before, remember? I told you we might be asymptomatic carriers. It would explain why many of the survivors seem to be infertile. We have the virus; it just doesn't make us sick."

"It's our fault?" she whispered, stricken to her very soul with guilt and horror.

Doc Cotton's head jerked up. "No, Carly, it's not your fault. You didn't know. We would have had contact with outsiders sooner or later."

Tom and Cynthia came down the stairs slowly, their arms wrapped around one another. Carly couldn't tell who was supporting whom.

She had brought Death to their doorstep. The guilt was so terrible she couldn't even look them in the eye.

"We've got to get the word out," Tom said in a raspy voice. "Tell everyone to quarantine themselves."

Carly's heart ached for him. Even in this moment of terrible grief, he was still thinking of the people of his town.

Doc Cotton shook his head. "It's too late, Tom." He stood. "I'm sorry to leave you in this terrible time, but I have work to do. I have to prepare."

"We'll help," Carly whispered. "We have to help."

Doc Cotton nodded. "I'll need every pair of able hands."

Justin kissed Carly's cheek. "Where, Doc?"

"The church."

Justin nodded. He kissed Carly again before he left, and she caught a glimpse of the anguish in his eyes, an anguish he was trying hard not to show.

Cynthia sobbed in Tom's arms.

"I'm so sorry," Carly choked out. "God, I am so sorry."

Neither of them replied. Carly darted out the door onto the porch. She sagged down onto the steps, clinging to the support post. There, she let out the sobs that had built to such an agonizing pressure in her chest. She wept for Andrea, for Tom and Cynthia, and for the precious bit of normalcy that was too fragile to survive after all.

There was barely room to walk between the beds. All were filled with coughing, retching, moaning people. The muttering of the mad were the only voices heard. In the beginning, the noise had filled the church and echoed from its bare walls. But at this point, it was a low murmur.

The church's pews had all been removed. Doc Cotton had requested people bring beds from their spare bedrooms—just the frames, box springs, and mattresses. The room was lit by lanterns they'd suspended from the ceiling, a warm glow that didn't soften the ugly reality that the whole town lay dying in the sanctuary.

Carly hadn't slept in days. She bathed burning foreheads with cool water. She cleaned up after the sick and helped move the dead outside to the large pit Tommy Burton had dug with his backhoe. At first, the dead were washed and carefully wrapped in sheets, their families tucking small mementos, like pictures, inside with them. And then the families fell ill, and there was no one to perform those last acts of kindness and love.

"You need to take a nap, girl," Old Miz Marson said. Carly hadn't heard her approach.

"Perhaps later," Carly replied, knowing it was a lie.

"You ain't gonna do anyone no good if you fall sick yourself."

Maybe not, but she couldn't leave them. She couldn't rest while the people who had taken them in— welcomed them to their community—suffered and died.

She glanced up from the person she was bathing and saw Justin with Doc Cotton, carrying out yet another victim. This one was small, a little girl. What's her name?Tara Something, Carly thought. Her mother had brought her in, sobbing between coughs, and the two of them had breathed their last within an hour of each other. Carly was glad the mother never had to know what had happened to her little girl, a tiny mercy.

"Go on back to Preacher Wilson's office," Old Miz Marson urged. "I'll send that man of yours back to you. He won't rest, either, but he might if you do."

Doc Cotton had told Carly no one knew how old Miz Marson really was. He said she'd been an old woman when he was a little boy and hadn't seemed to change since. She was one of the few able-bodied people left.

There wasn't any medicine left, but it hadn't done much good, anyway. As their supply dwindled, Justin had tried to reserve it for the children, but none of it had worked. He hadn't even hesitated to share it, though they'd both known it was probably futile. Carly wondered if this marked some sort of change in Justin, thinking with his heart instead of his coldly practical mind.

They had done everything they could think of, but one by one, the town's children had slipped away, burned alive from the inside out by the terrible fever. Only one was left, a little seven-year-old girl named Madison Laker. Her parents had both died a few days earlier, along with the baby her mother had been carrying. Madison was staying next door in the preacher's house, and while Carly thought she was too young to be left alone, there was no one left to watch her.

Doc Cotton had tried to keep a log, recording the deaths, but they came too quickly, too many at once. Some were taken outside before he was informed, and afterward, no one could remember. Doc Cotton had become sick, too, but he was trying to work as long as possible before he succumbed. It wouldn't be long, though. His eyes were bleary from fever, and he had to blink sweat out of them. As she watched, he helped lift Clayton Bierce so he could sip some water.

Carly and Justin were still immune, or so it seemed. She closed her eyes as she thought of her baby and the agonizing choice she'd made when the latest crisis had started.

She'd stood on the street and shouted at Mindy on the porch; she wouldn't risk going closer. "You need to get out of here. Take Dagny and go. Find a safe place and hole up there until this is all over." There had been some cans of baby formula and bottles still in their packaging in the grocery store. Carly had put them on the sidewalk and sprayed the containers with Lysol before she stepped away. It hurt, losing those sweet, precious moments when her baby lay next to her heart and nursed, but she had no choice. It was too dangerous for them to stay. Dagny might not be immune to this version of the virus.

Please, she prayed. Please let them have found somewhere safe. There were so many dangers out there.

She heard a soft whine and looked down to see Sam beside her. "What are you doing?" she asked. "You know you're not allowed in here."

Sam whined again and used his nose to nudge something on the floor, something Carly could barely see in the low light. She bent down.

It was Tigger. The cat's breath came and went with a congested wheeze, and she was as limp as a rag when Carly picked her up. "Oh, no," she whispered.

Sam whined again and shuffled on his paws. Fix her, he seemed to be saying. His eyes pleaded with her.

Carly laid the cat on one of the empty beds. She touched the inside of Tigger's ear and found her burning hot with the fever.

"Oh, Sam, I'm sorry. I'll do what I can, I promise." Carly stroked his head gently. She dunked Tigger into the pan of cool water. The cat shivered even as heat poured off her body. Carly went to the supply box and found an eyedropper. She pried open Tigger's mouth and used it to squirt some water down her throat. When she tasted it, she began to lick eagerly at the eyedropper and then at Carly's fingers. Carly gave her more until the cat sagged back against the bed, sated and exhausted. Sam laid his head on the bed beside her. His ears drooped back. Carly stroked his head again and gave him a hug. There was no way she was going to tell him he couldn't stay.

"I've got to go check on the others," she told him. "But I'll be back."

She made her rounds through her shrinking collection of patients. Old Miz Marson was seated next to a woman's bed, reading the Bible aloud to her. She glanced up as Carly passed and shook her head because Carly hadn't taken her advice to rest.

The door opened, admitting a brilliant stream of light that hurt Carly's eyes. Justin emerged from it. He was pale, and his hands trembled with exhaustion, but he kissed her warmly and then set about assisting with the sick. It was an endless cycle of illness and death, and one loss bled into another until she wasn't sure who she was caring for at the moment. She looked down at the sweating woman on the bed and saw her mother. She was calm and lucid, which Carly hadn't seen since the spike in her fever.

"No spiders?" Carly asked her.

"Water," her mother whispered. Carly got a plastic cup and helped her up so she could gulp eagerly from it.

"Careful, Mom, you don't want to make yourself sick."

Her mother smiled at her. "You always were such a good girl, Carly. You made your father and me so proud of you."

Carly had to swallow around the lump in her throat. "I'd hoped so. I was always afraid I'd disappointed him since I didn't go to college and I—"

Her mother cupped her cheek with her palm. "Oh, baby, never think that. He only wanted the best for you, for you to be able to do anything you wanted."

"I'm glad I didn't go," Carly said. "I'm glad I could be with you when—" She broke off, puzzled. She thought her mother had died, but that didn't make any sense. "Where is Daddy?" She glanced around the room, but the beds to her left and right were empty. "Mom, I can't find him!"

"Shh, it's all right. Your father is fine. He's happy now. You should listen to Justin. He was right, you know."

"Carly?" She turned her head and blinked at Justin. He repeated her name, and she tried to focus her tired eyes.

"Yes?"

"Honey, are you all right?"

She looked down at the bed and saw the woman lying there wasn't her mother, and she was dead. Carly closed her eyes, and two tears fell out onto her cheeks. She took a deep breath and collected her things.

The low and mournful howl of a wolf filled the room. "Sam!"

She rushed over to him and knelt down to check Tigger. She wasn't breathing. "Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry."

He howled again, and it rattled the stained glass windows in their panes. Most of the patients were too far gone to hear it, but Old Miz Marson bowed her head when she heard it, recognizing the sound of heartbreak across species.

Sam picked up Tigger's limp body and walked to the door, his tail dragging low. He stopped at the door and looked back at Carly, and then he was gone.