Raven regarded her brother, patting Rocky on the head to calm him, murmuring soothing words. She felt another wave of sadness for Moon Pie, but pushed it away. Time for that later, she thought, shoving the feelings into a metal box and locking it. Raven was good at compartmentalizing and was always tough, even as a young kid, never crying when she was little and she skinned her knee or got into a fight with other kids at school. She’d spent a lot of time with her grandfather, Jasper. He’d been through the Second World War as an infantryman and had seen many good men fall in battle. He taught Raven and Henry, to a lesser extent as Jasper was well into his eighties when her brother came along, how to defend themselves with blades and hand-to-hand. Raven had endured many bruises and cuts as a child but had never wanted to be seen as weak by her stalwart grandfather. Those skills could only help them now.
“What do we do?” she asked Henry, still stroking Rocky soothingly.
Her brother pursed his lips. “Well, I’ve been thinking,” he said. “How much food do you have here?”
Raven grinned, happy that she’d just been shopping. “Tons,” she replied. “I broke the bank at Safeway yesterday.” She had just about spent all of her money. Her girlfriends Kathleen, Sally, and she had planned a camping trip for the beginning of November. They’d wanted to spend some time at a rented cabin in Yosemite. She was thankful for that now. She told her brother this and he grinned.
“That’s fucking awesome,” he said. “That’ll save us a trip to the store. We can go over what you have in a little while. What I’ve been racking my brain about was where to hole up until the brunt of this blows over.”
Raven glanced out of the window at the sky. It was still dark, hours from the dawn. She could make out the branches of her white alder swaying in a gentle breeze. Suddenly feeling exposed, Raven rose and pulled the curtains tightly shut, feeling the rough fabric beneath her fingertips.
“Good idea,” Henry spoke, stifling a jaw-breaking yawn. He got up and refilled his coffee mug, opening the fridge and adding half and half.
“Why can’t we just stay here?” Raven asked, thinking of all the dried goods and simple first aid supplies she’d bought. Sally had teased her about being overly paranoid, saying that there was no need for splints, endless boxes of Band-Aids and peroxide. Who’s laughing now, Raven thought ruefully. She wondered briefly if her friends were all right.
Henry frowned and shook his head. “Not secure enough.” He gestured around the room. “There are too many windows and you don’t even have a security screen.”
Raven sighed. “Mom never wanted one.” She smiled in a sad way. “She always insisted that if we couldn’t feel safe in the neighborhood she’d lived in all of her life then we may as well give up on society.”
Henry scoffed. “Nice sentiment,” he spoke. “Doesn’t do fuck all for us now though.”
Raven saw his point. “What about your house?” she asked. “You’ve got a security door and bars on the windows.”
The area of Park Oaks where Henry lived in was none so good though he’d never had a problem. Raven used to visit him there until one day she’d been chased around his car by a crazy bum with a broken beer bottle. She knew how to take care of herself and hadn’t been scared to return but her brother had always found excuses to meet her elsewhere. She thought maybe he’d been embarrassed.
“That’s no good,” Henry responded. His face darkened.
Raven raised her eyebrows but he refused to expound, just shaking his head.
“Well?” Raven asked after a moment of silence, “where then?”
“The girl I told you about earlier,” Henry said, draining his coffee.
“Yeah, Sarah, right?” Raven spoke, thinking it important to remember her name. Something about the look her brother got when he talked about Sarah made Raven think the girl had been on the way to claiming his heart.
“Yup,” Henry nodded. “She has, had,” he corrected, skin around his eyes tightening, “a cabin up in the mountains. I took the key from her purse after . . . well just after.” He gulped audibly. “I think it’s our best chance.”
“Oh,” Raven responded, not quite sure how to react. She touched Rocky’s head absently. Questions skittered through her mind like fall leaves on the ground. How are we going to get there? Will it be safe? Will we have to kill anyone along the way? How long can we survive there? “Have you been there before?” was what she asked.
“Twice,” Henry responded, frowning.
“Okay then,” Raven responded, deciding to ignore her brother’s obvious discomfort for the moment. “You drove here, I assume.”
“I did,” Henry said, straightening his Carhartt jacket. He dug into a pocket and brought out his keys, jingling them.
Henry had inherited their mother’s truck after her death. Raven had never learned to drive. She always meant to get around to it, but so far had gotten by just fine without it. So, Henry got the truck and that was fine with her.
“How’s the old Chevy running?” she asked. It was a 1958 pickup. Henry had it repainted black with red accents along the hood and fenders. The truck looked better than ever.
“Just fine,” Henry grinned. “I just replaced some sparkplugs a couple of weeks ago so she should be good to go.”
“Cool,” Raven said. Rising, she rinsed her cup in the sink and turned to rest her butt against it. “Want some breakfast?”
Henry smiled crookedly. “Hell yeah, if you’re cookin’!”
“You know it!” Raven exclaimed, grinning. She started to rummage in the fridge. “How about eggs, bacon and toast?”
“Sounds awesome,” Henry answered, leaning back in his chair and scrubbing his
