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“Fine,” Elle said. “Do what you want.”
“Elle—” Uncle began, but Elle stalked away.
“I’ll do it myself, then,” she muttered.
She would have to go back into the city, and she would have to do it alone.
Elle sat at the end of a plastic table, absently stirring the hot bowl of stew in front of her. It smelled delicious, filled with chunks of meat and pieces of vegetables. She ate slowly, savoring the flavor. It had been so long since she’d had real food. She didn’t want to make herself sick by eating too fast.
Bravo sat on the floor by her feet, eating a bowl of food provided by the woman called Myra Linch. It was a mix of old meat and cuts of fat. The dog practically inhaled it.
There were conversations all around her. Voices echoed against the underground walls. It was overwhelming. So many people in one room. So many potential threats.
Elle kept her head down and listened, trying to latch onto a single voice to focus on, to keep the clamor of the crowd from becoming overwhelming.
“…The Freedom Fighters is where it started, initially,” one woman was saying. “One of the first militia groups in the hills, a hillbilly group of rednecks, the way you’d hear the Scouts tell it. But it was effective.”
“And the Mountain Rangers?” a man asked.
“Further up in the Sierra Nevadas.” The woman paused. “Rumor is, the militias in the mountains are in a bit of trouble. They couldn’t stay hidden from Omega forever, after all. The Mountain Rangers have been fleeing — they say they’re headed toward the coastline. Monterey, maybe. Monterey is supposed to be safer than Sacramento.”
Elle frowned and took another bite of the stew.
“The militias and the U.S. Military are becoming one,” the man replied, his voice lower. “It worries me.”
“I trust our military a lot more than I trust Omega,” the woman said.
“So do I, I’m just saying…” Another pause. “Merging all of these groups of people at a time like this. Either it’s a smart move or a ticking time bomb.”
Elle shook her head. She didn’t know what to think.
“Hey, we’ve been looking for you, shortstack.”
Georgia sat down in a chair across from Elle. Flash sat directly beside her and Jay took a place on Elle’s right. “What did he say?” Jay asked.
Elle pulled herself out of the conversation behind her.
“Who?” she said.
“Lieutenant Danes,” Jay replied. “What did he say when you talked to him?”
“Oh, that.” Elle shrugged. “He said we could stay… for now.”
“What else did he say?”
“That’s about it, actually.” Elle didn’t tell them about Nathan Ingalls. For some reason, she didn’t think they needed to know. “As long as we keep our heads down and behave, they’ll let us stay.”
“But not forever. They can’t just feed hundreds of people every day indefinitely,” Georgia pointed out, smoothing her curly hair. “They’ve got to kick people out at some point.”
“People here have jobs,” Elle said, nodding toward the guards at the doors. “People contribute to the cause, and they get a place to stay and food to eat. It’s not a bad system.”
“So if we want to stay we’re going to have to work,” Flash replied.
“Yes, which is completely fair.”
“Totally.” Georgia smirked. “I’ve never had an honest job before.”
“Speak for yourself, blondie,” Jay cracked. “I’ve had lots of jobs.”
“Yeah? Name one.”
“My parent’s liquor store. I ran that in high school.” Jay swallowed his food, then suddenly stopped talking.
She understood that. She knew that pain.
“…There’s a lot of colorful characters with the militias, too.” Elle tuned into the conversation behind her once more as her table fell into morbid silence. “A mixed bag,” the woman said, laughing. “They’ve got ex-teachers and lawyers toting rifles. It’s quite an army, let me tell you.”
“You’ve seen it?” someone asked.
“I was ru
“There’s a lot being said about him lately.”
“Rightly so. He’s a good man.”
“So how did you end up down here?”
“The Freedom Fighters split. Commander Young and the better lieutenants like Cassidy Hart and Alexander Ramos joined the National Guard in Sector 20. I didn’t like being up in the hills without Young as a leader. I came down to find the National Guard. Had some help locating them from the pilot at Camp Freedom.”
“Ah, Ma
Elle suddenly stood up, whirling around. She walked to the table behind theirs and stared at the woman. She was middle-aged, with deep green eyes.
“You know Ma
“Everybody knows who Ma
“Do you know where he is?”
The woman shook her head.
“How should I know?” she answered. “I haven’t seen him since he joined up with the National Guard. He could be anywhere.”
“But he was with the militias in the mountains.” Elle took a deep breath, her cheeks flushing. “He’s alive.”
The woman gave Elle a suspicious look.
“What are you… his grandchild or something?” she asked.
“Or something.” Elle placed her hands flat on the table. “Listen, where did you last see him?”
“Well…” The woman stopped to think, wrinkling her brow. “It was right before the Battle of the Grapevine, maybe a week ago? He was flying overwatch for the National Guard. I ended up wounded in the first round of the fight”—she held up her left arm, where in place of a hand, there was a bandaged stump—“so they sent me here to heal up.”
“So he’s still alive,” Elle said again.
“Don’t go looking for him,” the woman warned. “I can see it in your face. He’s a friend of yours, and you want to find him. But I’m telling you — don’t. The Battle of the Grapevine was hell, so I’m told. I didn’t see the aftermath but—”
“I’ve seen it,” Elle interrupted. “Dead bodies for miles and miles. But I didn’t see a biplane. Ma
Elle’s heart filled with hope. Uncle was alive. He was close.
After finding Aunt and Uncle’s ranch abandoned in the Tehachapi Mountains, she had assumed that they were both dead. But now she knew for certain that Uncle had been alive just a week ago.
This was a silver lining.
This changed everything.
Elle hurried back to her own table and finished her stew, her mind working at the speed of light. Jay and Georgia stared at her, tried to pry her out of her thoughts, but Elle was focused.
“Hey, girl.”
The woman walked to Elle’s table. Elle met her steady gaze.
“The National Guard unit that was at the Battle of the Grapevine,” she continued, “the one Ma
Elle blinked hard. Was she going to cry? No way.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
The woman walked away.
“Who’s Ma
“He’s my uncle,” Elle replied.
“Are you going to find him?” Jay said.
“Yes,” Elle answered. “Of course.”
Flash suddenly looked up from his stew, his eyes red.
“I’m not coming with you,” he said. “I can’t go back out there. Not this time.”
Elle sighed.
“I’m not asking you to,” she replied. “Look. I hunted you down, I found you, I dragged your sorry butts across the desert”— she gri