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Nancy preened. “That’s what I’m calling him…or her.”
Mac rolled his eyes. “I can’t talk about it, Mom. We’d better go.”
“Cormac, darling, if you’re in any kind of trouble, family is where you should turn.”
“Good to know. Thanks, Mom.”
“Nobody could get to you here. Your brothers wouldn’t allow them past the gate.”
“Are you offering me a siege if I need it?”
“Son, you need to take this seriously.”
“We’d better go.” Mac stood up. “Let Zeke know he can collect his pickup at my place, or I’ll bring it back when I get a chance.”
“Cormac, you can’t—”
Mac kissed his mother’s cheek. “Thanks for the food, Mom.”
“You haven’t even said hello to your father—he’s just watering his flowers.”
“Don’t disturb him, Mom. I’ll see him at the Jayhawks game next week.”
Theo thanked Nancy Etheridge for her hospitality.
Nancy folded her arms. “You’re welcome, honey, but just what have you got my boy involved in?”
Mac told his mother not to be ridiculous as he took Theo’s hand and headed for the door. Nancy followed them all the way out to the pale blue Chevy pickup in the property’s multiple bay garage.
Nancy watched as they pulled out and drove toward the first gate. Theo noted that Mac had a master key to all the locks and padlocks. Despite the open squabbling, his family trusted him.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said, as they passed through the gates. “We wouldn’t have come here if we could think of anywhere else to wait out the police search without being harassed by reporters.” Mac rolled his eyes. “The catering truck was Sam’s idea—he thinks he’s CIA.”
“What exactly are they preparing for?” Theo asked as they passed silos fortified with barbed wire.
“My mother is getting ready for a war—civil, or some kind of invasion; Zeke thinks there’ll be another worldwide pandemic or several; Sam is convinced that electromagnetic solar pulses will render all forms of technology inoperative leading to a breakdown of the social order; and I think Caleb still believes in zombies. Between them, they’ve got all the bases covered.”
“And your dad?”
“He roots for the Jayhawks.”
“And he grows flowers?” Theo said as they caught sight of Mac’s father in one of the paddocks. He waved as they passed.
“Not so much flowers as ditch weed.”
“Cannabis?” Theo asked, surprised.
“More like hemp. It grows wild—he isn’t actually planting it. You can get a better high with dried parsley, but Dad seems to like it.”
“But your mother—”
“Has convinced herself he’s testing and storing potential natural medicines, because conventional drugs will become unavailable when we are invaded.”
Theo tried not to laugh.
Her phone rang. “It’s Veronica,” she said, checking the number.
“Go ahead and answer it,” Mac said, pulling up. “I have to unlock the gate anyway.” He opened the door as Theo picked up the call.
