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Justin cleared his throat. He considered trying to come up with an excuse for lurking but decided not to insult Tom’s intelligence. So he simply stood there, looked at him, and waited to see what Tom would want to do.
“Come over to my place. We’ll have a beer.”
That wasn’t the reaction Justin was expecting, but he nodded and followed Tom across the lawns to the porch where he’d drunk lemonade a few hours earlier. “Take a seat. I’ll be right back.”
Justin lowered himself into one of the wicker chairs. He heard the creak of the screen door open and then footsteps on hardwood floors that faded with distance. Tom returned in just a few minutes with two bottles of beer, one of which he handed to Justin. The bottle was cool and wet, likely from having been stored in the basement spring Tom had mentioned earlier. Justin twisted off the cap and lifted the bottle in salute before he took a sip.
“Last two,” Tom said as he opened his own. “For all I know, they’re the last two beers in this part of the country, unless you’ve got some in that wagon of yours.”
“I do.”
Tom lifted his eyes heavenward. “Praise the Lord!” he said heartily, and Justin chuckled. “But even if they were the last two, I’d be glad to share ‘em with you.”
“Thanks,” Justin said. He was a little touched by that.
“I ain’t gonna chide you for checking around. Hell, I’d prob’ly do the same in your shoes, but I’d rather save you the effort. Your family is in no danger here. These are good folks.”
“I’ve seen plenty of situations where ‘good folks’ went bad,” Justin said.
Tom shrugged again. “You gotta do what you need for your own peace of mind. I’m glad you were out and about, actually, because I needed to ask you about something, and I thought it would be best to approach the subject... discreetly.”
“Go on.”
“I ain’t gonna lie to you, son, we’re in trouble, here. You don’t strike me as someone who’d take advantage for your personal gain. I saw that tattoo of yours, and if you were so loyal to your unit that you’d etch it into your skin permanently, I’m guessing you’re a man of honor. And if I’m gonna take a risk on someone, I’d rather it be someone like that.”
Justin shook his head slightly. “How did—”
Tom chuckled. “You ain’t the only one with binoculars, son. I saw it while you all were still on the bridge. And I was in the service myself, remember? I know a military tattoo when I see it. Never seen that particular symbol before, but I recognize it for what it is. You got it on that ring, too.”
Justin looked down at his hand. “It was Carly’s father’s. He was one of my instructors.”
“Small world.” Tom sat back in his chair and steepled his hands beneath his chin. “I’m tellin’ you now, because I think it’s something you’re gonna need to mull over in your mind before you make any decisions. We’re poorly armed. Hard to believe, I know, a town in the South would be in this situation, but it’s the truth. We’ve only got a few guns worth a damn and ammo that will fit only a couple of ‘em.” Tom scratched his head and stared thoughtfully out into the dark. “I don’t want to believe this of my neighbors, but if anyone’s got shells, they’re keepin’ them for themselves. Tried to tell ‘em if raiders get past our walls, their deer rifle ain’t gonna save them, but you know how people are.”
Justin did. That’s what scared him.
“My hope is you’ll trade some of that ammo to us.”
“It’s not all mine,” Justin said. “A good bit of it belongs to Stan and Mindy. I’ll be willing to trade with what’s mine, but I can’t speak for them.”
Tom took the last swig of his beer and set the empty bottle down on the porch floor beside his chair. “They didn’t seem all that interested in speaking for themselves this afternoon.”
Justin had found it odd, too. He wondered if they thought their opinions were irrelevant and made a mental note to talk to Stan about it in the morning. Carly and Justin were the ones who would ultimately make the decision about where their little group would go, but he wanted to hear what Stan and Mindy thought about it.
Tom fished in his shirt pocket and withdrew a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He lit one with a sigh of pleasure, as though it had been a long while since his last smoke. The orange glow of the tip illuminated his face briefly when he inhaled. “Let me ask you something. Where you aiming to go?”
“The original goal was Florida.”
“Original?”
Justin smiled slightly and took a sip of his beer. “Plans change.”
“What were you hopin’ to find in Florida?”
Somewhere like this, Justin thought. At least, that was what Carly wanted. A safe home, a community that could be self-sufficient. He considered different ways of answering the question and finally decided to opt for simplicity. “A home.”
Carly realized she must have fallen asleep when she woke to the sound of Justin opening the bedroom door. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Did you find anything?”
He shook his head. “Nothing suspicious.” He sat down on the bed and pulled off his shoes. “Carly, I don’t want you to get your hopes up...”
