“Do you…” I begin, not sure how to say what I’m feeling. I push the plate across the table to her and nod. “Would you finish this, please?”
She looks at me as though I were insane.
“It’s just, well… I had a lot to eat for lunch and I don’t want to be a pig.”
“Sir, you really don’t have to…” Jeff starts but I wave him off.
“I insist,” I say, and nod to the little girl. She looks to her mother and Diane smiles at her. Nicholas makes a small whine but before anyone can say anything, Bonnie pushes half of the gift onto his plate.
The sight kills me.
“You guys…” I begin, but Jeff interrupts me.
“After we eat,” he says, “then we’ll talk.”
We all sit in silence, watching the brother and sister slowly pick at this measly portion. When they finish, Diane tells Nicholas and Bonnie to go play, and suddenly the adults now own the table.
“Are you comfortable?” Mr. Ma asks.
“Yeah,” I reply, “but… You guys have lived here the whole time?”
“Yep,” Jeff answers. “Diane and the kids were living here when the invasion began. Mr. Ma came after the first wave.”
“But, how?” I press, dumbfounded. “How could you have been here for so long and no one knew?”
“Oh lots of people know we’re here,” Diane answers. “The Jenkins’. The Patterson’s. Bob and Carol down by your mill. There’s lots of us.”
My mind swims with the revelation. Jeff goes on to tell me that there are more than forty residents in Cheney who are still alive and hiding in homes around town.
“And they are all rooting for you,” Jeff gushes. “We don’t even know your name,” he adds with a laugh.
“Kyle,” I say. “Kyle Moore.”
“Nice to meet you, Kyle,” Jeff says.
“So,” Diane cuts in, “what happened at the mill?”
I can feel my face tense and my hands make fists involuntarily. “Oh,” I say in a voice that is more playful than I really feel, “I pissed off the wrong guy.”
◊◊◊
There’s nothing in the ranch house. No food. No supplies. It’s a cage and no more. The front room is empty. The rest of the rooms are boarded up. The remains of Michael, Kurt, and Dave are all curled up along the new section of fence. Pieces had to be pulled from other areas of the border, but it was more for show than purpose. Twisted between the limbs and torsos of the bodies of his friends are boards and pipes and bags and parts. The sight is ghastly.
Fitting. They’re still guarding the perimeter.
Nice dedication, boys.
Kyle sits in his perch, silently waiting and watching the road. He’ll come. He knows it. His prey can’t stay away. A coward would run, but a killer? No. A killer will return, and Kyle is more than hopeful.
What’s the point of being a lion if you never get to prove it?
So he sits.
And waits.
All night if needs be.
He’ll come eventually, and Kyle will be ready.
He’s the King of Cheney, and he will not give up his throne to anyone.
◊◊◊
The children are in bed but the adults are still up and talking.
“I just don’t get it,” Diane presses. “What did you do? He didn’t just get mad and set fire to the mill. So? What’d you do?”
I look at my hands and bounce a knee anxiously. I had purposely been avoiding any details, but she just won’t let it go. “He and his… group… they attacked a family. More than one actually. And they uhh… They killed a lot of people. They raped a woman I knew. So…”
“So?” she continued.
“So I found out where they lived, and I wiped them out. Or so I thought.”
“You killed them?” Diane clarified. She didn’t sound reproving. She didn’t sound mad. She just sounded like she wanted to understand.
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Three of them at their home, and one at the mill.”
“But you didn’t get them all,” Jeff pointed out.
“No,” I agreed. “As it turns out, I neglected the most dangerous one. And he uhh… He found out. And then he burned down my home.”
“And you think that’s all?” Mr. Ma asked. “You think he’s done.”
I gave the three of them a look that spoke loudly enough.
“So what are you planning to do?” Jeff asked.
“Well,” I said, and wiped my hand across my mouth. “I think I’ll go pay him a visit tomorrow.”
“You think he’s waiting for you?” Jeff guessed.
“Definitely.”
“Then, why?” Diane questions in an exasperated tone. “Why go?”
“Either I go to him, or he comes back to me,” I point out. “But we are going to have to meet eventually.”
“You don’t even know what he looks like,” she continues.
“It’s a guy. He’ll look pissed. And he’ll be trying to kill me.” I chuckle darkly. “He shouldn’t be that hard to identify.”
“It’s just… There must be another way,” Jeff says.
“Killing and killing and killing,” Mr. Ma sighs. “And when does it end?”
The other two look to me as though the question was specifically for me.
“Thank you for everything, really,” I say sincerely, “but tomorrow I have to go and take care of this.”
“Why?” Diane asks again.
“Because someone has to.”
I take a small sip of water and return the bottle to the table. I scan the room, appreciating the pictures and the trinkets on the shelves. Memories of those long gone and the treasures of future generations. In my mind I can see it all engulfed in flame. “He’s coming for me,” I continue, “and I won’t let him take from someone else what he has already taken from me.”
“I’m going with you,” Jeff declares.
I laugh and shake my head. “Thank you. I appreciate your bravery, really. I mean it. But no. You aren’t coming with me.”
“You could die without help,” he informs me, as though I don’t know.
“I can just as easily die alone as beside someone else,” I counter. “So, no. I won’t take you.”
“Well,” Jeff says, looking from me to the concerned expressions of the other two,
