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“Holy… all right, nevermind.” Tina shook her head. “We can talk about it later. Did you find it? Did you find what we needed?”
Dianne smiled at her friend’s frankness and priorities and opened the back door, handing her backpack over to Tina. “It’s all in here. Plus all the extras I could carry. That place was a gold mine. I’m doing fine, by the way; how are you?”
“Pleasantries later,” Tina replied, grabbing the backpack from Dianne. “Jason’s at death’s door and Sarah’s beside herself with him. You and Mark talk and you can fill me in later.” With that, Tina hurried back inside and closed the door. Dianne snorted in amusement and looked at her son, who was shaking his head and smiling as he stared at the front of the house.
“She’s in a no-nonsense mood, eh?”
Mark nodded. “No kidding.”
“Did she and Sarah take good care of you three? Where’s your brother and sister?”
“They’re upstairs taking a nap; Mrs. Carson has been keeping us busy while you were gone.”
“Uh huh.” Dianne smiled, then a concerned look crossed her face and she lowered her voice. “How’s Mrs. Statler?”
“She’s been with Mr. Statler pretty much the whole time you’ve been gone. Josie talked her into going to the bathroom and getting a drink of water and a few bites to eat, but that was all anyone could do with her. I don’t think she’s doing well at all.”
“Not surprising, given what she’s been going through. Do you think I made it back in time to help Jason, or….” Dianne trailed off and Mark shrugged.
“I don’t know. Mrs. Carson’s kept us too busy to really think about it, but that’s been on purpose. Every time I’ve seen Mr. Statler he’s looked bad, but he’s been alive.”
“Good. I hope he stays that way.” Dianne took a deep breath and sighed, rolling her shoulders as she tried to exhale some of the tension that had built up in her body.
“How about you, mom? What happened with your arm?”
Dianne looked down at her red hand and sleeve and grimaced. “Looks pretty bad, doesn’t it? There were a few people at the hospital who weren’t very friendly.”
“Did you kill someone?” Mark’s question was asked with innocence and curiosity, reminding Dianne both of Jacob—his younger brother—and of when Mark had been younger, too. Dianne hesitated in answering, wanting to continue to shield him from the harsh new realities before she remembered that he had watched her gun down the man on their farm.
“I… yes. More than one.”
Mark looked at her arm, then into her eyes for a long moment before nodding to her decisively. “Good. That means fewer people to try and steal from and kill us.” With that, he turned toward the house. “Come on, mom; I’ll get some food ready for you while you change.”
Dianne watched her eldest son trotting back to the house, rifle on his shoulder, and realized yet again that he was no longer a child. The first one she gave birth to, nurtured, raised and adored had grown up before her eyes and was now a young man. It hadn’t been the first time she had that realization, but after being away so much lately she felt like she was seeing everything with a renewed vision. With another sigh, she took her rifle and pistol from the truck and headed toward the house, smiling slightly at the thought of a shower and change of clothes. Mark stood on the porch, looking back at her as he held open the door.
Just as she was about to step onto the porch, she froze. The sound was faint, barely registering as a whisper amongst the trees. It was there, though, a fell wind that signaled something terrible was drawing closer.
“Mark!” Dianne hissed at him and he came back onto the porch, a look of concern on his face.
“What is it?”
“Make sure everyone’s inside—check that your brother and sister are really sleeping. Once you check, I want you to get all of the guns and ammo we’ve stashed throughout the house. Get everything into the living room and start loading any empty magazines, got it?”
“Mom? What’s going—”
“I need you to take care of this for me, okay? Get everything ready.”
“Ready for what, mom?”
Dianne turned and listened as the sound of distant, angry engines slowly grew louder and more defined.
“Ready for war.”
Chapter 14
Washington, D.C.
“I think we’re being watched.”
