“It doesn’t. It really doesn’t. I’d always hoped you and Will would get together. Now here you are, raising a family. So much has changed, so much hasn’t. And one thing I know hasn’t is your reporter’s instincts and sensibilities. It’s hard for you to hold this story.”
“TEENAGE TRIAD NUKES THE NUKES. Everything I’ve seen, Lana, everything from those first days in New York? Nothing compares. And holding it, yeah, it sticks. But I understand weighing the greater good over the public’s right to know. Fallon wants the recruits here, and those at other bases secured, before I break the story. It can wait a few days.”
She took another sip. “And though, at the time, it galled me when they just dumped us off after their first strike, I can understand that, too. Chuck and I were added weight—not even considering all the equipment they brought back.”
“They wouldn’t let me go, let me help. Even after they brought you back. Even understanding why on some level—Fallon’s absolute insistence it had to be only the three of them—I felt so damn helpless.”
“You said they didn’t get back until just before dawn. Horrible night for you, for Katie.”
“Simon and I pretended we weren’t worried, then gave that up. Paced, prayed. Can I just add Hannah is a rock.”
“She is,” Arlys agreed. “She always has been.”
“I can see leaning on that rock, and I guess Simon and I are going to have to get used to the pacing and praying.”
“Here’s a change. We’re mothers now, having to face sending our children into war. Will and I talked seriously about not having kids. We’re realists. New Hope is a good community, but it’s not the world, and we understood we’d have to fight to keep the community, and eventually the world. Did we want to bring children into that? And then … Well, if you can’t have hope in a town named for it, where?”
“You have beautiful children.”
“I do.” She took Lana’s hand. “So do you. Simon’s just terrific, Lana. I wanted to say that here on the porch that used to be yours and Max’s. I can see how much you love him, and more, how much he loves you, the boys, Fallon.”
“He went with me early this morning to the memorial tree, to Max’s star. He’s such a good man, Arlys.”
“I know it. So I’m hoping I’m doing the right thing.” She reached in her pocket, took out a flash drive. “I’ve gone back and forth the last couple weeks about giving this to you. It’s Max’s.”
“The book he was working on.”
“Yeah, and a kind of journal, random thoughts and observations. We hoped we’d find you, then when we didn’t, we hoped you’d find your way back even though Starr told Flynn what you’d said. Will and I decided we’d take the house, and I found this. I put it away, held on to it in case I ever got the chance to give it to you.”
“This means so much.” Lana took the drive, closed her hand around it. “So much, Arlys. I’ll give it to Fallon. It should be hers.”
“I was afraid it would make you sad.”
“No. It reminds me he had hope, too. He was writing again. It reminds me what he did, what I did, to protect the child we’d made together. And what Simon did to protect her, right from the start. It reminds me giving up is never an option.”
Every night Fallon traveled with Duncan and Antonia to repeat the spell. On the third night, they traveled throughout Russia, on the fifth, Asia.
They told no one.
Fallon updated her maps, plotted locations. She believed once they’d eliminated the worst of man-made destruction, they could move on.
During the day she worked with organizing and housing arriving recruits. She found Katie invaluable with her capacity for creating lists, spreadsheets, organizing data, and her innate ability to welcome strangers with warmth.
“They need to start training.”
Katie sat at a picnic table outside the barracks working on a laptop. People milled around; children played with dogs. Two of those dogs were Jem and Scout.
“They need to start training,” Fallon repeated. “They need structure, discipline.”
“Yes, I know.” Katie continued working without looking up. “But right now they’re not soldiers, or a lot of them aren’t. They’re adjusting to a new place. And we’re working to ensure there’s adequate housing, supplies. Rachel and her team are still doing medical evaluations. We have over four hundred of the eight hundred plus you expect.”
“I know all you’ve done, are doing.” But a storm’s coming, Fallon thought. Something big and dark, and soon. Still the crystal wouldn’t clear for her, wouldn’t show her.
She sat, waited for Katie to look up.
“With the data you’ve collected, I know how many we have with medical training, with specific skills, with battle experience, with families.”
Katie folded her hands to show she listened. “You’d already collected most of that.”
“But not all, not as detailed. People talk to you. They don’t just tell you they were a surgical resident before. They also tell you they liked to garden as a hobby or paint or they have a child with an aptitude for building. They tell you what they hope for, what they’re afraid of. I’m learning from you how to see the whole, and not just the pieces I need to fit the whole.”
Katie sat back. “But they need to train.”
“It needs to start. I’ve asked my dad to take charge of this base. He has the experience. He’ll need help, others who can train, make decisions, lead.”
“Poe,” Katie said immediately, and Fallon smiled.
“I agree.”
“I know you said Maggie, and she’s a good choice. There’s Deborah Harniss. USMC. She was a JAG lawyer. She’s a shifter, and I think she’d be willing to work at one of the other bases.”
“I don’t know her, but if she comes from you, I’d like to ask her, or have you ask her.”
“I will, and I’ll have her come speak with you.”
“We need two cooks, a supply officer, a communication officer. From your list and mine, we have those inside the recruits.”
“And using people from inside and out helps them blend, take some ownership.”
Working with someone who knew how to run things helped smooth the road, Fallon thought.
“For blending, I’d like some of the recruits—experienced for now—to join your supply runs, scavenger and scouting missions. Hunting parties.”
“Give me the names, where you want them. We’ll work them into the rotation.”
“Thanks.”
Katie shook her head. “I want none of this to be necessary because I can remember a time when it wasn’t. You can’t. My children can’t. So I’m going to do everything I can to work toward a time when it won’t be necessary again. Isn’t that what you and Duncan and Tonia are doing every night? No, they didn’t tell me,” she said when Fallon’s face shuttered. “I know they’ve been gone, just like I know they’re exhausted and starving every morning. Just like I know your parents know. And they probably feel, as I do, frustrated none of you trust us enough to talk to us.”
“It’s not that. Oh, I’m so bad at this. It’s not trust. We knew you’d worry.”
“And you actually think we don’t or won’t by being kept in the dark?”
“I’m really bad at this,” Fallon repeated. “I’m sorry. Yes, we’ve been continuing what we began the night we took Arlys and Chuck. We’ve stockpiled supplies and equipment. We should be done in another week, maybe ten days. The ICBMs don’t take as much power to eliminate, but—”
“ICBMs.” Katie sighed.
“Intercontinental ballistic missiles.”
“You know, I don’t think I ever knew what that acronym stood for. I’m going to do what mothers do and give you some very direct advice. Talk to your parents.”
“I will. I’m sorry.”
“I’m going to accept that on a condition. Take the night off. The three of you need to, let’s say, recharge. I know my kids, honey, and I can see it in you, too. You’re running close to empty. You need to take a break.”
She wanted to push forward, push, push until it was done. Everything felt so urgent. But she saw the logic in the R and R. “We’ll take tonight off.”
“Good. You’re forgiven.”