“There you go, Larry. Thanks guys.”
“Layla, we need more weapons. We’ve cleared out the Lewis’ shop and the Sheriff’s Office, but it’s still not enough. And we really need more ammo,” Will said.
“What about the VFW? They got anything there?” I asked.
Will shook his head. “Just antiques.”
“They’ve got a working cannon. We could use that,” Jeff said.
“Dude, what are you gonna do with a cannon? We’re not fighting the British armada,” Will replied.
Jeff gave Will the finger.
“What about the Mara Hunting Club?” Summer asked. “Mom and I cater out there. I think they leave guns locked up there all year round.”
“There we go. Tomorrow morning we need to get to work on barricades and some of us can head up out to Mara. Those who can help should meet back here just after dawn.”
Everyone nodded.
“Let’s get everyone into groups for the town sweep,” Jamie called out. “Keep track of who or what you find and at what addresses,” he added, then began putting people into teams.
As Jamie moved through the crowd, I counted. Forty-seven. That was all that was left. Granted, it was not a large town and there were many out-lying farms, but out of nearly 600 or so, forty-seven was not much. I jumped off the stage.
I noticed then that Frenchie was there with her children. It was hard to miss her fiery red hair which fell, disheveled, to her waist. She was filling tote bags with canned goods.
“Hey Frenchie,” I called as I came over to her. I barely remembered her from high school. She’d always been the quiet type. She’d gone off to college but came home a year later pregnant—no dad in the picture. Her older child, who also had red hair, looked to be about six, the younger about four. She seemed really alone. Last I knew she was living in a trailer near Griswold Cemetery.
“Hey, Layla. Thanks for everything you’re doing,” she said, trying to sound confident when her voice and every line on her face told me otherwise. I eyed her over. She already looked gaunt. I could not imagine what she must have endured to keep her children safe. “These are my girls, Kira and Susan,” she introduced.
I knelt down to look at them. “Who is Kira and who is Susan?” I asked.
“I’m Kira,” the older child with red hair said. “She is Susan.”
“You’re pretty,” Susan, the younger girl with pixie-like features, told me.
I smiled at them. “Not as pretty as the two of you,” I said, tapping them each on the nose. I rose. “Frenchie, I was thinking, why don’t you and the girls stay with me? The place is locked down. I’m remote so there is less potential for traffic. And I’m well-stocked. You’ll be safe there.”
The girls looked up at her with eager anticipation.
“You sure?” she asked.
“Of course. We’ll get you moved in today.”
She set down her tote bags and wrapped her arms around me. Her body was shaking. “Thank god. My girls . . .” she whispered in my ear.
“It’s okay. I’ll keep them safe,” I whispered in reply. I hoped it was a promise I could keep.
Chapter 10
Outside the gymnasium five armed men stood smoking cigarettes, shot-guns hanging over their shoulders. I recognized them but didn’t know their names. “We’re on watch here,” one explained, and I nodded affirmatively.
I knew that my stunt at the community center had earned me respect, but I was not quite comfortable with the idea of being the leader of Hamletville. Not sure what to do with myself, I decided to head out to join one of the sweep teams. I found a team outside the Franklin house. By chance, Ian was there. Ian, Jensen, Dusty, and Gary were staring up at the black shirt hanging from an upstairs window of the run-down Victorian mansion.
Shame-faced, Ian looked away from me.
“Hey Layla,” Jensen said as I joined them. “We’re just thinking of a plan of attack.”
“If someone goes around back and makes a lot of noise, whatever is inside will be drawn that direction. The rest of us can go in from the front and get the jump on them,” Ian suggested.
“Is the door locked?” I asked.
“Not sure,” Dusty answered.
“I’ll go around back. I can haul ass if needed,” Gary said and then left. We waited. A few moments later we heard Gary in the back banging garbage can lids. “Come and get it! Fresh meat on blue-light special in the back yard,” he called.
I had to laugh. Gary was seemingly one of the least funny men I’d ever met. I guess he was full of surprises too.
The others laughed as well.
“Got some action in the window back here,” Gary yelled after a minute.
Dusty, Jensen, Ian, and I stepped cautiously onto the porch. Dusty tried the door. “Locked,” he whispered.
Ian pulled his shot-gun to blast the lock, but I stopped him. I then lifted the lady bug print welcome mat. The key was underneath.
“This is why we put you in charge,” Dusty said with a smile.