Chapter 21 - Luna #2
Kara watches them go with something close to respect. "She's going to eat that child alive."
"She's going to adopt that child," I say.
"Same thing."
Anders points toward the livestock trailer.
"Elle and I already worked through most of this as worse case the night it all started.
I bought every piece of hardware on the list and filled all the fuel tanks and extra drums I could get my hands on.
Animal feed is stocked, and I moved the grow supplies here after we met up at the feed store.
" He looks toward me. "Those extra grow lights and planters are boxed in the equipment shed with the soil. "
I’m overwhelmed by all of this, but I smile and thank him before he goes on.
"I figured once the eruptions started, we'd have to find somewhere else to relocate to, so I’ve been planning it out."
Jules lifts a hand. "For the record, I'm learning not to argue with her."
"Smart man."
"Fear is a powerful teacher."
Kara smirks at him with a laugh of agreement.
"I've sorted what we're taking," Anders continues, pointing at the trailer. "Two Jersey milk cows, four of my better Angus cows, and the Angus bull. That gives us milk, beef stock, and enough breeding animals to build from if we're down there long term."
Gage nods, immediately focused. "Seven head. That’s good. One to butcher when we need it and the others to breed."
"Eighteen chickens too. Sixteen hens and two roosters."
Reid, halfway back from the Jeep, stops walking. His face changes to dread. "What did you say?"
Anders looks at him. "Chickens."
"I heard you."
"Then why'd you ask?"
"Just trying to decide if the ash cloud from the sky will really be that bad. You know, the wind will probably blow it away. I could just take one of the cars back to the house, probably someone should keep an eye on things there. I wouldn’t need to take much food, just a little bit. I’m sure it will be fine…"
Reid stares toward the barn with the expression of a man hearing his own future. A very loud future. I press my lips together and send him a compassionate look. This will be brutal for him until he learns to deal with his ability.
"Seed is already packed," Anders moves on. "Wheat, barley, oats, vegetable seed, and what potatoes I can move for seed stock. Some of it may not be useful right away depending on what that ash does, but we're not leaving anything behind that could feed us later."
A chill moves over my skin despite the warmth of the afternoon.
Feed us later. Breeding stock and seed for crops.
Every conversation today keeps pushing my brain farther into a future I don't want to picture, and not one measured in days.
Months, and maybe years. There are no grocery stores in that future, no restaurants, and no delivery trucks bringing food in.
No government convoy that will show up with blankets and bottled water to tell us everything is under control.
We're discussing breeding cattle because nobody standing in this yard believes help is coming.
I wrap my arms around my middle. Gage notices immediately and steps closer until his shoulder touches mine. He doesn't ask, and I'm grateful.
"I also talked to two neighboring families," Anders tells us. "Good people. Farm people. They know livestock, equipment, crops, repairs. They've got their own stock and trailers, and both families are coming with us."
"How many people?" Jules asks.
"Nine between the two households."
Jules's expression tightens. "Nine."
"That a problem?"
"No. I'm recalculating supplies."
"Good. Because I think we need more."
That gets several confused looks. Gage folds his arms. "More people?"
"Yes." Anders leans back against the trailer. "Don't make the mistake of thinking fewer mouths automatically makes survival easier. Sometimes it does. Sometimes it just leaves you without enough hands to keep those mouths alive."
We all slowly nod in understanding.
"Think about what we're taking on. We have to move into that mine and make it livable.
We'll need people setting up sleeping quarters, sanitation, kitchens, water, ventilation.
Someone has to care for the animals every single day.
Someone has to work on food production. We'll want crews out scavenging while there's still anything worth getting, and the vehicles and equipment will need constant maintenance with the ash getting into them.
People can get sick." His eyes move across all of us. "And security."
Nobody jokes now.
"That one may end up taking more of us than anything else," he continues.
"Once the ash starts falling for real and people understand nobody's coming to fix this for them, fear is going to turn ugly.
Food gets scarce, medicine gets scarce, fuel gets scarce.
A good man with hungry kids can make choices he never thought he'd make. "
My arms tighten around myself as I wonder just how far I would go to make sure the people I love survive. What I find scares me a little bit.
"You understand what I'm telling you?"
"Yeah," Gage says.
"People won't all be bad, and that's just as important to remember. But desperate people can be dangerous whether they're good people or not."
"He's right," Torrin says.
Anders gestures toward the road. "We'll want a watch posted around the clock, more than one person at a time if we're smart, and rotations so nobody gets exhausted.
Put the same ten people on guard every night while they're working twelve hours during the day, and they'll start missing things. They'll make bad calls."
My eyes move around our group and count.
Even with the two neighboring families, he's right.
I picture Gage moving equipment all day and then standing watch all night.
Torrin trying to work after two hours of sleep.
Reid already overwhelmed by voices he can't control.
Jules making decisions while exhausted. Mars pushing himself past his limits because he thinks suffering is something he owes us. It would break us down fast.
"We need enough people that everyone gets to sleep properly," I say quietly.
Anders looks at me. "Exactly."
"But how do we know who to trust?"
That's the part that scares me. How do we let people join us when we don’t know them? They could let others in, steal our food, cause fights.
Jules answers before Anders can. "We don't." His tone is flat. "We vet everyone we can. Nobody gets access to everything. Weapons stay controlled, food storage stays controlled, and we build layers of security."
Kara lifts one eyebrow. "Look at you becoming a bunker dictator."
"Someone has to keep you people alive."
"Dictators are rarely good for group morale."
Jules gives her the finger. Kara smiles sweetly, and the tension eases enough for a few of us to laugh.
Anders scratches his chin. "I'm not saying invite every stranger we come across. I'm saying don't turn away useful, decent people just because we're scared of numbers. Skill matters. Character matters. Community matters."
That word, community means something to me.
My parents built one without ever calling it that.
Sunday dinners, open doors, extra chairs, boys who weren't technically family becoming family anyway.
I look around at the people standing in this gravel yard, and maybe surviving this isn't about making our group smaller and locking everyone else out.
Maybe it's about deciding who we can safely make room for.
Thinking about it that way gives me hope as much as it scares me.
"Okay," Gage says. "We stay open to adding people, but carefully."
Jules sighs heavily. "I hate democracy."
"You'll survive," Reid tells him.
"Debatable."
Anders points at the barn. "Good. Now that we've solved civilization, let's load cattle."
Everyone starts moving. Gage catches my hand before I can follow, and I turn back. His thumb presses against the center of my palm. "You good?"
That question again. The answer is I don’t know.
Five minutes ago, I was at my job in the restaurant and now I have magical glowstick abilities, I’m leaving the home I grew up in to seek shelter from a giant ash cloud with my grandmother, four men who have been my world for the past two years, my ex, and a flock of chickens. Totally normal Tuesday, right?
"Ask me in a month."
His mouth lifts. "Deal."
He releases me and follows Anders toward the barn. I stand there for another second before something beside the barn catches my eye. There’s a planter on an old wooden bench near the door with a small green plant drooping over one side, it’s leaves yellow and curled at the edges.
Anders passes it on his way in. His fingers brush one of the leaves.
I almost miss it when the stem straightens and I’m not sure at first. A science class timelapse video plays in front of me and I can see the curled leaves open flat and go a darker green from the base outward. Dampness spreads through the soil around the stem until it goes black.
Anders keeps walking without seeming to notice any of it.
"Did you see that?"
Gage turns back. "See what?"
The plant sits there, perfectly ordinary and perfectly healthy, and nothing else happens.
"Umm, maybe nothing."
Gage studies me for a second, then jerks his chin toward the barn. "Come on, sweetheart. You wanted a survival compound. Time to meet the cows."
"I absolutely never said I wanted a survival compound."
"Too late, I can’t return it."
From inside the barn, Reid suddenly yells, "OH MY GOD, WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF YOU?"
Everyone in the yard freezes as a chorus of chickens start squawking. Penny barks with pure joy and Reid says, louder this time with an edge of desperation to it, "PENNY. PENNY, WHISPER!"
I close my eyes, and start laughing because what else am I going to do?