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She took Rachel’s hand, then Arlys’s. “Something’s coming, and soon. That’s all I know for certain.”
“‘It all changes,’” Arlys repeated. “‘It ends. It begins.’”
“Did I say that? It’s a little like being outside myself. Or inside. I’m not a seer.” She looked down at her belly. “But she might be. I can’t see what she sees. I just feel it.”
She heard the sound of running feet, but saw Chuck not Max rushing along the sidewalk.
“I got something!” He waved the paper he held, jogging onto the porch. “Contact. Sort of.”
“Internet contact?” Arlys snatched the paper out of his hand before he’d caught his breath.
ATTENTION ALL GOD-FEARING HUMANS
If you are reading this, you are one of the chosen. No doubt you have lost those dear to you and have felt, may still know, despair. No doubt you have witnessed firsthand the abominations that have desecrated the world Our Lord created. You may believe the End Times are upon us.
But take heart!
You are not alone!
Have Faith!
Have Courage!
We who survived this demonic plague wrought by Satan’s Children face A Great Test! Only we can defend our world, our lives, our very souls. Arm yourselves and join The Holy Crusade. Will you stand by while our women are raped, our children mutilated, while the very survival of humanity is threatened by the ungodly, by The Uncanny? The future of the Human Race is in our hands. To save it we must soak them in the blood of the demon.
Gather together, Chosen Warriors! Hunt, Kill, Destroy the EVIL that threatens us. “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,” so sayeth The Lord. This is the time of retribution! This is the time of The Slaughter! This is the time of
The Purity Warriors!
I am with you. I am of you. I am filled with the light of righteous vengeance.
Reverend and Commander Jeremiah White
“Bad copy,” Arlys managed. “Overwrought and fucking terrifying.”
“Purity Warriors.” Lana gripped the porch rail. “Flynn said he finally got Starr to talk a little more. The gang who killed her mother called themselves Purity Warriors, and had tattoos. Crossed swords with a P and a W under the X.”
“I know. Just like I know this Jeremiah.” Arlys handed the paper back to Chuck. “He was already stirring up calls for bloodshed back in January, in the early weeks of the Doom.”
“He’s got a rudimentary site up,” Chuck told them. “I stumbled on it while I hunted for communications. There’s more. He’s uploaded some photos—they’re pretty graphic. And he’s got one up of the tattoo you’re talking about. He calls it the Mark of the Chosen. Bat shit, man. Sick and bat shit. He claims he’s working on putting up a message board. I hacked in, and he’s got more than two hundred hits. Less than fifty individuals, so people go back, check the site again.”
“Fifty’s not many,” Arlys murmured. “But…”
“It says we’re not the only ones with power and Internet,” Chuck finished.
“We wouldn’t be the only ones appalled by the sick and the bat shit,” Arlys commented. “But…”
“Some will revel in it.” Eyes grim, Rachel nodded. “Including a handful in New Hope. Could you tell when he is, or was, posting? Where the site’s based?”
“I think he’s mobile—adds more scary because I don’t know how he could be. Still, now that I found it, I can monitor it. Everything else I’ve found, so far, is pre-Doom. It’s stuff that’s been up since before it all fell down. But if there’s one—the bat shit—there’s going to be more.”
He broke off as Max pulled up to the curb in a truck. Max got out one side, Will the other.
“I’m fine,” Lana said quickly.
“Will said you fainted.”
She aimed a frustrated look at Will. “I got a little dizzy.”
He cupped her face, studied it. “You had a vision?”
“No, not … It’s hard to explain. I think the baby did, and it somehow filtered through me.”
“You’re connected physically,” Rachel pointed out. “Your health, the baby’s. I don’t know anything about this other side of things, really, but it seems to me that connection could go there.”
“It’s not the first time,” Max concurred. “Could it harm her?”
“I’d say driving’s out.”
Appalled, Lana stared. She’d learned to love driving. “Come on!”
“I’m going to side with the doctor,” Arlys said. “You went off, Lana. You were somewhere else. I’d give a pass on driving, operating heavy equipment,” she added, trying to lighten the blow.
“You’re a terrible driver anyway.” Max kissed her forehead.
“You’ll pay for that later, but we’ve got more to worry about. Chuck?”
As Chuck handed the paper to Max, began to explain, Lana sat again, thought again. No risks, she decided. Whatever affected her, affected the baby.
And apparently vice versa.
Rachel poured out more sun tea. “Hydrate. And I want to know if you have more dizzy spells. If you have any unusual feelings, physical or otherwise. There’s no point stressing over what Chuck found. One fanatic, and a very big country.”
“That helps, but as we said, we have a handful right here who might, probably would, take up that call.”
“Most aren’t here.” Max reread the paper. “Mike and I went out to check on Rove. Just take a look. He’s pulled out, and so have the Mercers, along with Sharon Beamer, Brad Fitz, Denny Wertz.”
“That explains why we haven’t seen them around in the past few days.” Arlys nodded. “And they haven’t picked up any supplies or reported for any details. Well, it doesn’t hurt my feelings.”
“I’m glad they’re gone,” Lana said. “I’ll sleep easier knowing they are.”
“It also explains why we’re two trucks shy,” Max went on. “Twenty gallons of gas, food supplies. Weapons. That’s why we went out to check.” He ran an absent hand down Lana’s arm while he scanned the street. “Still, I imagine most would consider that loss a win against having them moving on.”
“Meanwhile, I’m going back down, see if I can find somebody else who’s back online.” Chuck pulled his fingers through his scraggly beard. “Hitting the downer button here, but figuring all the techs and hackers in the world before the Doom, and how I’m getting all but zilch on the surf?” His shoulders lifted and fell. “You gotta do the math, right? You gotta figure more than fifty percent—a lot more than fifty—wiped out in the Doom.
“Anyway.” He let that trail off, then wandered away.
“He’s right.” Max stroked his hand—comfort, reassurance—up and down Lana’s arm. “We can judge that by what we all saw getting here, and by the fact that the number of people coming in to stay or even to pass through has trickled down to nothing in the last two weeks or so.”
“It makes building and maintaining our own even more important,” Arlys put in. “Law, order, education, water, and food supplies.”
“Security,” Max added. “A big world, one fanatic,” he repeated. “But one with followers. Add Raiders, Dark Uncannys. Whatever outside laws and government might still exist doesn’t reach here. And whatever outside laws and government might exist? We don’t know who or what might be in charge of it. So we have to protect our own.”
“I agree. I agree with all that,” Rachel said, hands in her pockets, looking out at the street. At the peace. “We’ve made a lot of progress in a short amount of time. Even having the framework of a system of rules, of community responsibilities has given people a foundation. Maybe, having those
who don’t want that foundation—like Rove—leaving adds to it. It is a big world, and we’ve got the chance to make this part of it safe and solid.”
“It has to be more than rules and responsibilities. We’re alive.” Lana laid a hand on her child as she stirred. “So many of us have been grieving, even while doing what has to be done.” She looked at Will. “So many of us lost pieces of ourselves. But we found pieces, too. Found things inside ourselves we didn’t know were there. We’re alive,” she repeated. “Maybe it’s time to celebrate that. It’s nearly the solstice.”
Max smiled at her. “The longest day. A time for celebrating.”
“Yes, and some of us will. I think it may be too soon—only a few days away—for a full community celebration. We need more time to plan that, and I think that’s just what we need.”
“Fourth of July was always my favorite holiday growing up.”
Arlys turned, smiled at Will. “I remember. Barbecue, marching bands, hot dogs, and fireworks.”
“My mom’s cherry pie.”
“I fondly remember your mom’s cherry pie.”
“A New Hope–style Independence Day. We’ve got like three weeks to set it up,” Will pointed out. “And the setting up will get people juiced up, right?”
“The all-American holiday.” Arlys cocked her head. “Food, games, crafts, music, dancing. I like it. I really like it.”
“We could start the day with a memorial for those we’ve lost.” Lana reached for Max’s hand. “To honor friends and family who aren’t with us. And end the day in celebration.”
“Now I like it even more. I’m going to work on a Bulletin,” Arlys decided. “I’ll get it out today.”
“I’ve got a couple of ideas on that,” Will told Arlys. “I’ll walk down with you. This is a good thing, Lana. It’s a good thing.”
“I’ll go give Jonah the heads-up. Will’s right.” Rachel tapped Lana’s arm. “This is a good thing.”
Alone on the porch with Lana, Max sat looking out on the town. “You’re happy here? It’s just us,” he said before she could answer.
“It’s not the life I ever imagined for us. And there are still times I wake up expecting to be in the loft. There’s a lot I miss. Just walking home in the noise and the crowds. I remember how we’d just started to talk about taking a couple of weeks and going to Italy or France. I remember, and I miss. But yes, I’m happy here. I’m with you, and in a few months, we’ll have a daughter. We’re alive, Max. You got us out of a nightmare and brought us here.
“Are you? Happy here?”
“It’s not the life I imagined, either, and there’s a lot I miss. But I’m with you. We’re having a child. We’re both able to do work that satisfies us, and have powers we’re both still learning to understand. There’s a purpose. We’re alive, and there’s a purpose. We’ll celebrate that.”
* * *
The day of the festival dawned soft and pink.
Lana spent the beginning of it, as she had the day before, in food prep with her kitchen team. She focused in on her area, leaving the decorations—with Fred leading that charge—to others.
She’d made countless patties of venison and wild turkey while listening to
