Chapter 44
When Barb stepped outside at dawn, the farm felt scraped raw.
Mud churned into uneven tracks, broken branches were strewn across the fences, and the barn still sagging from the roof collapse broke her heart.
Quiet hung over the property that didn’t feel like peace.
Cathy and Eli were already working. Cathy hauled wet straw out from the damaged section of the barn, her sleeves rolled high.
Eli shoveled debris into a pile, wincing when a bruise along his ribs pulled. Neither spoke.
The night had drained them, and the morning demanded more.
Barb stood for a moment, watching them. Every instinct she carried pulsed with the same conclusion.
Defense was no longer enough. They had fought off waves, held their ground against coordinated attacks, and survived sabotage under the cover of a storm.
The raiders regrouped, reassessed, and returned every time.
They would keep coming until the sisters had nothing left to defend.
In her heart, she knew the fighting wouldn’t stop unless she ended it.
“Come on,” Barb said. “We need to talk…”
Cathy straightened. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes.”
They followed her into the barn. The air smelled of damp hay and fear.
Barb closed the door behind them, the weight of the choice she had already made settling deep into her bones. “I’m going to the raider camp,” she said.
Both froze.
Eli spoke first, voice cracking. “No…you can’t?—”
“I am,” Barb said. “We can’t wait for them to attack again. They will bring more next time.”
“Barb, we just survived a storm and a full assault. We aren’t ready for another fight,” Cathy said.
“That’s why I’m going now,” Barb said. “They will be weak today. Their camp will be disorganized. Last night cost them.”
Eli shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. They will kill you on sight.”
“Only if they see me,” Barb said.
Cathy’s eyes widened. “You have been planning this.”
“I have been preparing for the possibility,” Barb said. “Not the decision.”
Eli dropped the shovel. It hit the floor with a muffled thud. His breath came fast. “I should go with you. I know the path. I know who they place on watch.”
“No.” Barb’s voice cut through the air. “You aren’t going.”
“You need another pair of eyes,” he said. “I can help you… You know I can help.”
“I know,” Barb said. “That’s why you’re staying here. Cathy can’t defend this place alone. You saw the scale last night. Someone has to watch the barn, and someone has to watch the house. I need you both here.”
Eli swallowed. “They will kill you.”
“Not if I move fast,” she said. “Not if I stay out of sight and not if I hit them where it hurts.”
“Barb, please think. You haven’t slept more than a few hours at a time for days. You’re exhausted, you’re bruised, and you are freezing,” Cathy said.
Barb met her gaze. “I know.”
“Then you can’t go,” Cathy said.
“I have to,” Barb said. “Every defense we build gets tested. Every improvement gets sabotaged. They marked our trees, they walked our fences, they studied our animals…they know too much about us.”
“We can defend this place again…together,” Cathy said.
“Maybe once,” Barb said. “Hell, maybe twice, but they are gathering. Eli told us they have at least twenty and maybe more. They will not stop until they break us or take everything we have.”
Cathy snorted. “Still, you shouldn’t go alone?—”
“I am not taking either of you,” Barb said. “That’s final.”
Cathy’s voice broke. “Barb, we are stronger with you here.”
“I will come back,” she said.
Eli shook his head again. “Not if they catch you.”
“They won’t,” Barb said.
Silence settled between them, heavy and tight.
Barb turned and pulled a pack from a hook near the barn door.
She laid it on the stool and unrolled its contents.
There were rope, flint, and a small bottle of rendered fat along with two jars of kerosene, a bundle of rag strips for wicks, a hunting knife, and a handful of sharpened stakes.
Cathy stared at the contents. “That is not a scouting kit,” she growled.
“No,” Barb said. “It’s not.”
“What exactly are you planning?” Cathy asked.
Barb tightened the lid on the kerosene jar. “To force them to move.”
Eli stepped closer. “What does that mean?”
“Destabilize the camp,” Barb said. “Destroy supplies, break equipment, and scatter their supporters. I’m going to make them retreat. Maybe if they lose enough, they will move farther north to find easier targets.”
Cathy’s shoulders dropped. “Or they come back angrier.”
“Yes, that’s a risk…” Barb said. “But if I do fail, they’ll come back with fewer men and more disorganized.”
Cathy reached for Barb’s arm. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t,” Barb said.
“You can’t guarantee that.”
“No,” Barb said. “But I have to try. Survival doesn’t wait for comfort or safety. If they come back in full force, we won’t make it through another night like last night. If I do nothing, they will take this place from us. They will take everything we fought for.”
“I know you’re right,” Eli said quietly. “I just don’t want to see you trapped in the place I escaped.”
Cathy wiped her cheek. “If we can’t change your mind, then at least tell us the plan.”
Barb walked to the barn door and opened it enough to look out across the yard.
The morning light barely broke through the thick winter clouds.
The air held a sharp scent of wet earth and cold metal.
“I follow the creek north,” Barb said. “Stay low and use the brush for cover. Cross at the orchard and take the ridge path. Eli said the camp is near the sawmill, just past the bend where the trees thin.”
“They have rotating guards,” Eli said. “One at the front, one near the supply line, and one by the main fire. They shift every hour, but sometimes faster when someone is angry.”
“Good,” Barb said. “Angry means careless. I’m going to plant fire starters in the scrap piles, supply tents, and the storage areas. If I hit all three, the fire will spread too fast to control.”
“What then?” Cathy asked.
“I retreat before they know who did it.”
Eli’s hands shook. “If Kade sees you…”
“He won’t. I’ll make sure of it,” Barb said.
They all knew it was partly a lie, but truth had no place there. She needed resolve, not debate.
Barb put the rope and incendiaries back into the pack, then slung it over her shoulder.
She tucked the knife into her belt. The weight felt grounding.
A chill ran down her spine as she looked at Cathy and Eli once more.
“Keep the animals tight, watch the tree line, and if anyone approaches, you get inside. You lock the doors and you stay alive, got it?”
Cathy nodded. “When will you be back?”
“Before dark,” Barb said.
“Promise?” Cathy whispered.
“I will do everything I can,” Barb said.
Cathy stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Barb’s shoulders. Barb held her for a long moment, feeling the thinness of her sister’s winter coat and the tremble under her hands. Eli stood awkwardly, shoulders tight, eyes locked on the floor.
She left before she could reconsider, before their fear could settle in her bones.
The cold morning wrapped around her as she stepped off the porch and moved across the farm, boots sinking into wet earth.
The world felt different beyond the last fence, wider and colder.
She moved through the forest with practiced silence, staying low and in the dense brush.
Her breath fogged in slow, controlled pulses.
Every sound was registered with sharp clarity.
Birds shifting in branches and snow sliding from a branch.
The distant rumble of the creek, swollen from the storm, could be heard in the silence.
She followed the water north as the landscape shifted.
The forest thinned, and the ground rose.
In the near distance, the air carried smoke from campfires. Eli had described the camp well.
Barb dropped low, crawling the last stretch until the old sawmill came into view.
The structure loomed like a skeleton, its rusted metal ribs rising from the ground.
Tents clustered in a rough half circle around fire pits.
Men sat hunched near the flames. Some argued, and some passed jugs between them while others slept.
Instantly, she could tell they were worn, sloppy, frustrated, and weak.
Barb studied the patterns of movement. There was no order and no discipline.
She circled behind the sawmill, staying low.
The scrap wood piles sat stacked just beyond the outer line of tents.
It was dry from being sheltered under tarps.
One spark would cascade through the entire pile.
She removed the incendiaries from her pack.
Barb struck a flint to the wick, and the small flame crackled to life.
She buried it deep in the scrap pile before moving to the next location, followed by the third.
The first fire caught almost instantly, flames licking along the tarp before ripping it open.
Shouts erupted from the nearest tents as men scrambled.
“What now?” someone yelled.
“Get water,” another shouted.
Barb moved toward their food stores, slipping between shadows.
She ducked behind a broken wagon and lit the second pile.
Flames burst through the wood, sending sharp sparks into the air.
The camp exploded into movement. She slipped between tents like smoke.
The third flame caught as a tent collapsed into burning ruin. Men screamed and panicked.
The fire roared into a full blaze, climbing faster than the raiders could react.
She retreated into the trees, heart steady and breath controlled.
She never looked back. Barb walked five miles home with smoke trailing behind her like a storm.
She had broken the spine of the threat. Still, Barb knew Kade would come after them, hungry for revenge. This time, though, she would be ready.