“Shit,” Stebbs said when they crested the ridge. “You weren’t kiddin’.”
“Nope.”
Machinery littered the meadow on the far bank of the stream, skeletal and pale in the moonlight. A dark scar marred the earth around the stream where they’d widened a reservoir area, a massive pile of stone stood nearby, menacingly solid. Stebbs took Lynn’s binoculars and squinted into them.
“Shit,” he said again. “They’ve got a decent-size reservoir dug already, and plenty of stone to stop the river anytime they want. They probably couldn’t work in this mud, so they’re waiting either for a freeze or the ground to dry out.”
“Either way, they’d have Eli and Lucy out of water in a week,” Lynn said.
“Them and anyone else downstream who counts on it for water.” Stebbs handed the binoculars back to Lynn, and surveyed the dam area. “Shit.”
“When Lucy was sick, you said you and me aren’t the kind of people who don’t like situations we can’t control. You said we need to be able to do something.”
“I remember.”
“I think it’s time we did something.”
“I know it. But what?”
She regarded him critically for a moment, biting her lip. “How’ve you been feeling?”
Stebbs shifted his weight awkwardly on his bad foot. “I’ve been better, mostly back before I was cripple.”
“Can you lay still for a while?”
“Laying still is something I’m good for.”
“You eat anything lately?”
Stebbs forehead creased in confusion. “I ate well enough tonight. Why?”
“C’mere. I want to introduce you to a tree friend of mine.”
Stebbs was true to his word, making less rustling than Lynn, and even managing to fall asleep on his perch in the tree. Lynn had given him the long, wide limb she’d used earlier to stretch out on. She was nestled comfortably against the trunk where the limbs made a V, hugging her knees against her chest. She rested her head against her canteen, allowing the gentle swaying of the branches to lull her into a decent rest, if not sleep. The taut muscles in her back and legs screamed for a break, and she took turns flexing them as the gray light of dawn appeared on the horizon. She hissed at Stebbs to wake him, and they watched as the sentry climbed the cell tower.
“He come out at dawn yesterday too?”
“Earlier.”
Stebbs made a noise in his throat and borrowed her binoculars again. “Keep them,” she said. “I’ve seen.”
Through her rifle scope she watched the men go about the same duties as they had the day before. The guard who had been on her roof reclaimed his position in front of the town hall, and Roger brought the cow out of the church to graze.
“Milk,” Stebbs muttered to himself. “Almost forgot such a thing existed. Looks like they’re keeping their stockpile in the town hall, since it’s the only place that’s guarded. The cow and the women being the exception. You got to realize that we start shooting, some of those girls could get hurt.”
“I’m willing to take the risk. Bet they are too.”
Stebbs shifted on the limb, moving his gaze to the group of men headed toward the truck. The same four looters started it up and headed out of the village with an empty bed. “Those the scavengers?”
“Yup. I imagine we hit while they’re gone?”
“I would. They leave about the same time yesterday?”
“I didn’t see them go. They might even spend the night outside the village, the farther they’ve got to travel to forage.”
“We’ll want to hit on an off day, once they’re gone and not expected back.”
Lynn followed the truck through her scope, ignoring the urge to pull the trigger. “That was my thinking.”
Stebbs watched the village in silence for an hour, finally handing the binoculars back to Lynn and propping himself on one elbow. “Well, I’d say so far you’re right on. Take out the tower sentry first, then the guard at the hall. After that, the guy with the beard and then the one in the blue coat. The guy in the green hat we wait and see.”
“What about the big guy? The one in charge?”
“Didn’t see him.”
Lynn handed the binoculars back to him, gesturing toward the town. “Across from the church, there’s a big brick house, with a porch. He was out there yesterday, doing his dealings with the people.”
She raised her rifle back to her eye again but found the porch empty. Movement in one of the windows caught her eye. “Heads up,” she said. “He’s coming.”
One of the women from the yellow house opened the front door, clutching a blanket around her thin shoulders. She crossed the road limping, even though she’d been uninjured the day before. Tall Red walked onto the porch holding a cup of coffee and leaned against one of the pillars.
“That’s him,” Lynn said, but there was no response. “What do you think? Should we pick him off before the guard at the hall?”
Silence.
“Stebbs? What’s the call?”
He pulled the binoculars away from his eyes slowly, handing them back to Lynn. “That’s got to be your decision.”
“Why?”
“’Cause that’s your daddy.”
“You’re sure?” Lynn asked as they slipped back to her house in the dark on stiff legs.
“There’s no mistaking him. This change anything? He’s the only blood you’ve got left in the world, you know.”
“He’s my blood, true. But I’ve been thinking lately that maybe he’s part of what makes up the bad bits, the things I’ve done that never bothered me until you said they should.”
Stebbs thought about it as he trudged along beside her. “I knew your father, Lynn, and I know you. What you did, you thought you had to. Wasn’t no part of you enjoyed it, or liked hurting for the fun of it. If there’s some of him in you, it’s been for the good—the will to survive and the brains to figure out how. There ain’t ever been one person who was all good or bad, not me or you, not your mom or your daddy either. So I say again that it’s up to you—does this change anything?”
“Good blood or bad, he’s a stranger to me and a threat to my friends,” Lynn said. “We take him out.”
Their shoes crunched through the evening dew that had frozen the scanty patches of snow still left on the ground. “There’ll be a hard freeze in a few days,” Stebbs said. “That truck with the scavengers went out this morning. If you’re right about them spending the night outside of the village, we’ll need to do this right quick. I say we talk to Eli now. We can be in place by morning.”
“He doesn’t want any part. You and I can handle it.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Two snipers are only good to have if they’re reinforcing someone on the ground. There’s no guarantee we’ll make every shot, and after that first one, they’ll scatter. We’ll be hard pressed to nail three right off, and then we’re in for a long wait while they’re undercover. We’ll be sitting in trees with only what we’ve got on our backs, and a truck with four more men in it coming back anytime. And that’s the best-case scenario, assuming neither one of us gets shot. One of us goes down, the other is dead.”
“I don’t like it. I know you’ve been working with him, but Eli’s not good with a gun.”
“No, but it’s his water we’re fighting for. Don’t you think he’d want the chance to defend it himself?”
Lynn thought of their exchange on the roof, the bitter tang of uselessness that had threaded Eli’s words.
