“Promise,” I say, trying to keep my voice light.
He turns to Cara. “Either of you. Something happens, get Rocky Horror and get the hell out of there.”
Then he runs back for the Kid. Cara turns to look at me.
“You better not be getting me killed tonight,” she says.
“I promise?” I sound even less sure this time. I make sure to tell Amy and the others to stay with the RV until they hear from us on the radio. But while they aren’t looking, I grab the handgun out of Andrew’s pack. I double-check that the safety is on, then tuck it in the back of my jeans.
About twenty minutes later, after making a left at the boot café, we find ourselves greeted by two men with rifles. My stomach tightens and I reach down to feel that the gun is still there.
They introduce themselves and instruct us to park on the side of the road. We pull over and they lead us the rest of the way up a gravel and dirt road, past a sign that reads “Faraway Lodge and Campground.”
Rocky Horror sticks his head between me and Cara and whispers,“Camping wasnotwhat I had in mind when she said shelter.”
I shrug. “So it’s the same as every other day.”
“Merry Christmas to all,” Rocky Horror mumbles.
But the end of the road opens up onto a clearing with a massive three-story lodge. The plexiglass-covered sign to our right has a map with labels written in what looks like faded dry-erase marker. Written over the section labeled “campground” is “farm.” On the northern section is a large lake. A small square drawn on the plexiglass says “WT.” To the west of the lodge are a group of scattered cabins labeled with numbers.
I expect to see more people with guns pointed right at us. But it’s quiet.
Hannah trots down the short hill from the lodge to us. “You came!” She holds out her hand and we all shake. “Welcome to Faraway.”
“The others are behind us,” Cal says. “You’re sure you don’t mind? There are about seventy of us altogether. We do have our own food.”
“When they get here, we can talk food. We’re planning a feast for tonight, so some additional provisions will be greatly appreciated.”
My eyes flash to the windows of the lodge. Then the roof and the trees around us. There really isn’t anyone else. The men with the rifles have gone back to their positions at the entrance to the driveway.
I see Cal reclip the holster on his gun. My own gun is digging into my right butt cheek, but I don’t care. Cal may feel safe, but I’m not ready to let my guard down.
Hannah offers us a tour and we oblige. But first Cal turns to Kevin and tells him to check on the status of the others in the caravan. WhichI assume is the all clear. Then we follow Hannah as she starts the tour.
Cara leans in close to me. “We should go on a supply run tonight.”
“You think they left anything in the town?”
“Not food. It’s Christmas Eve. I don’t know how many of these kids still believe, but it’ll be a pretty fucked-up Christmas if they wake up tomorrow and the other kids in this place all got gifts and Superflu Santa didn’t leave anything for them. Especially after just losing Daphne.”
Shit. She’s right. I nod and make a mental note to have the others watch the kids after bedtime. Maybe Rocky Horror, Niki, Cara, and I can go. Andrew, too, if he’s up to it. But I don’t think he’d be willing to leave the kids.
During our tour, I learn the “WT” by the lake stands for Water Treatment. There’s a pump powered by a solar panel that pulls from the lake and sends it through several natural filtering systems. Hannah points out a smattering of cabins for us, saying that’s where we’ll stay for the night—Rocky Horror brightens at that.
Then she takes us past their fields, which all look to be cut away.
“How were your crops over the summer?” I ask.
Hannah sighs like it’s a major annoyance. “Not great. We tried, but it’s hard to keep up with the pests, and we had issues troubleshooting our irrigation system. We spent most of the year trying to get us to a point of sustainability, which we’ve almost reached. We hope to make the goal by next fall, then we can focus on keeping the crops pest-free.”
They had the same problems with the rodents and insects that we saw down south.
“It’s going to be a while before the food chain stabilizes,” Hannah continues. “The birds that are left are going to have to try a little harder to repopulate. There were some flocks flying south over the past few months. But for now we’re trying to figure out new ways to roll with it. Next year we might get rid of the cabins and use the foundations for greenhouses. Set up a little airlock-type system to keep out the bugs. But...” She shrugs. “We’re okay for now.”
She continues the tour by leading us into the lodge. “This is where most of us stay.”
The lobby has a rustic cabin feeling. The walls are stone, and to our left is a massive stone fireplace, the roaring blaze inside keeping the lodge warm. Ahead of us, between two doors, is a large grandfather clock, its pendulum swinging back and forth. “There’s thirty rooms, a common area, kitchen, dining hall.”
