One Second After [113]
"What do you think?"
"It's propaganda for morale, nothing more. Maybe the news about the coastal towns is on the mark, but for the rest of us, today, next week, it's bullshit. We got to look out for ourselves. I'm passing word at the barrier for people to turn around, to start heading for the coast. I know that's insane, none have the strength to make it now, but maybe it will be a coun-terrumor that will work back down the line." John nodded.
"Downside, though," John said. "If the rumor hits that Posse crowd, that will move them up our way even faster. Under martial law every one of those bastards will be shot; the last thing they want now is any authority anywhere. We better work out a good tactical plan to defend this place against a serious attack right now and stop thinking about mob control or a few desperados trying to sneak in. If they have any ex-military types at all with them, they'll do a probe first, then hit us hard. We got to keep an eye on our back doors, the railroad tunnel and the old back roads down to Old Fort. We're no longer dealing with refugees; we'll be facing an army as ruthless as anything in history."
Washington nodded in agreement.
"I think I'll go home," John said.
The two shook hands and John went back up the slope by the bridge. He nodded to Brett concealed in the grass.
"Fran got a bit jumpy there. Glad she didn't shoot that woman."
"Same here," though John wondered if a bullet in her head might have been an act of mercy.
He got in the Edsel and headed for home.
As he pulled into the drive, the two fools Ginger and Zach came off the deck to greet him. He knelt down to pet both and found himself hugging them.
"Daddy!"
It was Jennifer, Pat with her. "Everything OK?" "Sure, Daddy."
He looked at Jennifer closely. She had lost a few pounds. At every meal Jen had been pushing as much food into her as possible, meat and vegetables, which right now were still boiled dandelions. He looked up at the orchard. If only the trees were peach trees; in another several weeks they could start to gather the peaches. The apples were growing, but far too slow, it seemed.
He had never had any real interest in the eight trees, other than their beauty in the spring. The apples were rather sour in the fall, and they
usually just left the fruit there to drop, delighted when the apples lured in bears to feed on them.
"She had to eat a little chocolate earlier," Pat said. "Blood sugar went down."
"Snitch," Jennifer snapped.
"I promised your dad I'd keep an eye on you."
"I can take care of myself."
He hugged both of them, the two arguing as he went into the house. Jen was half-asleep, book laid across her chest, an old book on the Civil War.
"Where's Elizabeth?"
"Oh, she and Ben went out for a walk," Jen said, and sat up, rubbing her
eyes.
"They're out there walking a lot these days," John said.
"Well, Son-in-law, you better sit down."
"Why?"
"I think you need to talk to the two of them."
"About what?"
"Sex, getting pregnant."
"Oh, damn, Jen, not now, not today, I don't even want to think about it in relationship to her."
"Few fathers do. But frankly, my son-in-law, I think your sixteen-year-old daughter is now, how shall we say, a woman."
"Jesus, don't even talk to me about this now."
"Tyler and I had you and Mary figured out rather quickly."
He blushed. Jen had never said that before. And he looked over at her.
"Almost to the day, I bet. At least I did. Tyler, like any dad, went totally blind to reality, and John, I see it in your daughter now."
"Jen, not now," he sighed. "There's so damn much else going on."
Jen nodded slowly.
"And you don't want to face this issue. OK, but you better face up to it, John. Those two are scared, don't see much of a future ahead, the old restraints fall away. I'm old enough to remember the Second World War; it was the same then. Eighteen-year-old kids who knew each other just a couple days or weeks would figure