Chapter Eleven
Liis
The men had lumbered off toward the far side of the compound nearly half an hour earlier. The kids were winding down, laying on a quilt in the shade, pointing out clouds drifting past in the sky and calling out things like elephant with a bow, horse with a sword tail, dinosaur body cat head.
Abby lowered a sleeping Carter until he was comfy and cuddled next to a napping Stella and Oliver, then she sat on a free corner of the quilt.
She waited patiently for a few moments, staring at each of her remaining sisters-in-law until they made eye contact, and then gestured for them to join us.
Ellison, Falyn, and Camille said a few parting words to the kids before making their way over to us, finding their own place to sit in the shade under the slide.
Falyn remained half-turned toward the playground even as she sat, eyes tracking Olive, Hollis, and Hadley without apology.
Ellison dropped into a space like she owned it, dark hair pulled up into a messy knot, inked arms bare in the desert air, her eyes sharp and restless.
For a moment, no one spoke. Abby had gestured the others in, so we waited for her to tell us why.
Abby clasped her hands together. “I don’t think I have to emphasize the danger we’re all in.”
“This is arguably the safest place for us to—” I began, but Abby abruptly cut me off, holding up her hand.
“I wasn’t finished. We may be in the safest place possible, but we’re also all gathered here… with our children. I know the Carlisis. They don’t see the fences as a deterrent, or even the militia. All they’re thinking is that, with us all here, it’s a one and done opportunity.”
Ellison brushed sand from her hands and glanced toward the watchtowers. “All right,” she said. “Then we should plan as if it’s only a matter of time before they attack the compound. But I mean… what can we do? Naomi is a solider, Liis is an agent. We’ll just be in the way.”
Falyn’s eyes stayed fixed in Olive’s direction even as she spoke. “What exactly are we planning for?”
“Structure,” Abby said. “That way, no one’s guessing about how to get to safety if things move fast.”
Camille adjusted Oliver slightly where he slept. “Meaning a rally point?”
I nodded once. “It’s a good idea, Abby.” They all looked to me, waiting, so I continued, “I noticed a reinforced access door to a building the size of a walk-in closet coming back from Command yesterday. Concrete frame, keypad entry, no windows. It’s likely the bunker I noticed on the posted escape route sheet in the Longhouse. ”
Ellison tilted her head. “Underground?”
“Most likely,” I answered simply.
Abby nodded slowly. “Good. If alarms sound, or if the guards start moving people, we head there. Liis? You’ll show us where it is?”
I nodded. “As soon as nap time is over.”
Falyn finally turned fully toward the group. “All of us?”
“My recommendation is that you, Camille, and the children will go first,” I said. “Ellie will stand guard. Abby will be with me, returning to the bunker when I give the word.”
“Which will be…?” Abby asked.
“If the perimeter is breached,” I met each of their eyes, “the situation changes immediately. Stay low when you head back to Ellie. Once you’re together, go straight inside, don’t wait.”
Abby nodded once.
Ellison leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. “And if we’re separated when the alarm goes off? What if we don’t all make it there at the same time?”
“Your priority is to make it to the bunker,” I said. “We’ll take a head count, and anyone not accounted for gets located after the doors are secured.”
Falyn looked to me again. “And you?”
“I’m more useful outside that door than behind it,” I said. “But if the compound is breached, the bunker becomes the fallback. I’ll regroup there.”
Ellison nodded, glancing to Falyn who reluctantly agreed.
My gaze stopped on Falyn, then Camille. “No one opens that door unless it’s one of us, our husbands, Zeke, Naomi, or Marcel. Understood?”
“Not if it’s someone from AbrP?” Falyn asked.
“No,” I said firmly. “I don’t trust anyone else not to open that door to save themselves. The Carlisis are here for revenge. They won’t stop until we’re eliminated. If they get desperate, they could pose as militia, or force someone from the compound to try to convince us to open it.”
“And if no one comes for us?” Camille asked.
“Then we stay put until they do,” I said. “I’ll speak with Marcel and confirm the shelter’s stocked. Knowing him, it probably is. We may just need to add diapers, wipes, and formula, though I’m fairly certain everything we’ll need is already down there.
Silence settled briefly over the blanket.
Abby exhaled. “Alarm, meet at the bunker, Falyn and Camille go underground with the kids. Ellie stands guard waiting for me to join her in case of a breach, and then we go down too.”
Ellison brushed the sand from her palms again, likely more to hide her nerves than anything else. “Simple enough.”
Falyn’s eyes drifted back toward Olive, watching her laugh at something Bodhi had said. “What if nothing goes according to plan? Because let’s face it, nothing ever goes according to plan.”
I sighed. She wasn’t wrong. “If the bunker isn’t accessible for your group, move to the nearest structure with a single entrance and hard walls.
Lock it down and stay quiet. Protect the children with you.
Don’t go searching for anyone else. The worst thing you can do is keep moving where I can’t find you.
And this goes without saying—under no circumstances do you leave a child vulnerable.
Even if one of us is injured, if you’re killed trying to be a hero, you leave everyone else exposed.
And… one last thing… if the bunker somehow fails, look for a secondary exit.
I can’t imagine Marcel built a last resort without one. ”
Falyn exhaled. “This is actually crazy. It’s insane that we’re in a militia compound, planning for when mafia come to kill us. I mean… seriously, what the fuck? And yet, everyone knows how we got here.”
The group fell quiet, but Ellison and Abby side-eyed me.
“We’d all be doing this years ago, in our homes, most of us pregnant, with elementary-children or infants without the protection of the AbrP if Thomas and I hadn’t done what we did.
” I picked up Stella and then her bag. “And the sooner you and your husbands recognize that, the sooner we can get over the fucking blame game and work together.”
“It was an impossible decision,” Abby said. “We get that.”
“They kidnapped my daughter. Speak for yourself,” Falyn said, quiet but firm.
“Hey,” Camille warned.
Abby’s brow raised. “If you want to blame someone, blame me. I brought the Carlisis to this family, no one else.”
Falyn hesitated, seemingly unwilling to go that far.
I kissed Stella’s forehead while she slept in my arms and then let my eyes scan the perimeter. “I hope they do come. Because if we have a last stand and win, we can all get our lives back—for good this time.”
“You’re talking about taking out the Carlisis and maybe even the Yakuza,” Ellison said. “The reason we’re still scrambling to stay alive is because they’re like cockroaches. You kill one and more come out of the woodwork to avenge them.”
“That’s why we need a clean sweep,” I said. “And that’s why we chose this place. They’re going to throw everything they have at the compound. It’s time this ends.” I met each of their eyes before speaking again. “Come find me when you’re ready to see the bunker.”
I carried Stella back to our adobe. Her cheek was tucked against my shoulder, her body slack with sleep, trusting me in a way that felt undeserved given everything we were preparing for.
She hadn’t stirred on the walk back, not when the gravel shifted beneath my steps or when the door opened and closed behind us, and even now, as I moved through to the back side of our new and hopefully temporary residence.
She remained completely unaware of the tension that had begun to thread itself through the compound—and our family.
I lowered her onto the bed, easing my arm out from beneath her.
For a moment, Stella’s brow pinched, her lips parting in a soft protest, but it passed quickly, her breathing deepening again as she settled.
I stayed there longer than necessary, watching the rise and fall of her chest, letting that small, steady rhythm remind me why I had fought to find common ground with a family determined to vilify us before I forced myself to step away from the crib.
The kitchen still held the remnants of the morning, clean dishes stacked in the rack, a used but still clean dishtowel folded neatly next to the sink basin, evidence of a life that had continued somewhat uninterrupted.
I turned on the tap, letting the water rinse remaining coffee cups, moving through the motions without thinking, the repetition giving my mind space to work through everything we had just put into motion.
The plan made sense. It was simple enough to execute under pressure, which mattered more than anything else, but simplicity didn’t make it easier to accept.
Assigning roles meant accepting outcomes, and I had already positioned myself where the risk was highest. That part hadn’t required discussion.
The door opening and closing pulled me away from my thoughts, firm enough to signal familiarity, not urgency. I dried my hands and turned to find Bodhi and Olive walking hand in hand to the dining table, faces still flushed from the sun.
“Hey,” Olive said as she sat, her voice light, her eyes searching. “We realized you left and thought we’d come back to make sure everything was okay. Is Stella still sleeping?”
“She’s in the crib. I think the time change has caught up to her. She’ll probably be out for another hour,” I said, nodding toward the bedroom.
Olive smiled faintly and then stood to check on Stella, her movements instinctively quiet, while Bodhi lingered next to the chair she’d just left, turning his attention to me.