“What’s coming could be the biggest challenge any of us has faced thus far, and possibly ever will. The possibility of them just passing by peacefully is unlikely,” I interjected.
Most adults pitched in, digging foxholes at strategic points. Between all groups, we came up with six shovels, and four hours later the holes were complete. Vlad and I refused to stand aside, and we worked together while sitting, digging two holes without assistance.
“It looks like we have our holes done,” Vlad said. He added in a low voice, “It’s us, you know, who need to be on the front line when they come.”
“So, you don’t think us women can handle ourselves when defending our groups?” asked Sheila, overhearing the conversation with Joy.
“It’s not that,” Vlad replied. “I am confident you can handle yourselves in the face of danger. It is the men I’m worried about.”
“How so?” asked Joy.
“Most of these guys around here wouldn’t last two days watching out for their children if something happened to you.”
I felt that I had a good handle on my children. I’d not been given a choice, with three all being born in the span of 14 months. I’d pitched in from the start and changed my fair share of diapers, but I saw his point. My kids were momma’s boys, just like the rest of the kids here.
“He’s right,” I said aloud. “The children are all that really matter right now, and we can’t risk them being orphans in the next week.”
Joy nodded her head in agreement, as did Sheila.
* * * * * * *
Chapter Ten
Raton Pass, New Mexico
We all met for supper, where Nate’s group was introduced, and we helped to set up their tents.
David was unsuccessful at getting James VanFleet on the radio, but Joy and I were able to reach our old friends briefly.
We discussed the conversation with our group. There was concern regarding food rations.
“Did you bring the freeze-dried pails we all talked about last year?” I asked.
“We’re good on that,” said Aden. “Got enough for us and twenty more to get all the way across the country, and the ammo to keep it.”
“That’s what I thought,” I told him. “Hang tight, and we will talk to the group again, hopefully tonight.”
“Let them know we will pitch in and carry our weight,” added Kris. “Right, Shane?”
“Yeah, buddy. We’re going to be the best thing that ever happened to you guys!”
“Well, I hope you’re right, Shane,” I continued, “because we have hundreds or more people with bad intentions passing close to here in a day or two. Stay well behind them, at least a day or more if you can.”
“Hi, Uncle Lance!” chimed in Joshua.
“Hey, little man,” I replied, not actually being his uncle, but in our friends’ group lots of the kids called the adults aunts or uncles. “Are you having a good trip?” I asked, forgetting for a minute that they had lost two friends already. “I mean, are you listening to your parents?”
Joy gave me a look as I dug a deeper hole.
“Yes, sir. Well, bye,” and Joshua was off the air.
“I don’t know what to say to the kids anymore,” I said. “They have all witnessed things they should never see at their age.”
“We know,” replied both Kat and Kris.
“Hey, girls,” chimed in Joy, breaking up the awkward conversation.
“Tell them we will try again today,” I whispered to Joy, and left to give her some time to talk.
I found our boys with plates held out, waiting for hot dogs and cowboy beans, with potato chips on the side.
I knew we would need to have a talk with them tonight about what may come in the next day or two, but I paused, just watching them not having spotted me yet.
I envisioned their lives, not now as they would be moving forward but as they used to be, but fast forward 10-12 years. “Drop us off at the mall, Dad,” I could hear. “He is trying to steal my girlfriend, and I found her first...” “When can I get my own cellphone?” “Why do we have to share a car?” I felt a moment of genuine sadness for the things they may never experience in their lifetimes.
I met back up with the group and made small talk about the meal.
Joy ran up and hugged me from behind, knocking me off balance.
“Girl, if we were in the hood you could get shanked for doing that,” I told her—joking of course.
“Ooh, you’re in trouble for sure!” said Jake, laughing.
“Oh, we’re going there again, are we?” asked Joy loudly.
“Going where?” asked Tina.
“Nowhere. It’s just an inside joke,” I told her.
“Nope, buddy. Nothing is inside anymore,” said Mel, “especially jokes, so let’s hear it. “
“Let’s hear it; let’s hear it,” more people chimed in, egging me on with a little chant.
“All right, Joy and I had recently discussed the dangers, both old and new, agreeing that, for the most part, you had to be in the wrong area in the old world to get into some real trouble. The inside joke is referring to the two times I unintentionally ended up in the middle of Compton, a suburb of Los Angeles with a reputation for being a tough place for a guy like me.
“The two main gangs at the time were known as the Crips, signified by dressing in blue with the acronym standing for ‘Community and Revolution in Progress,’ who outnumbered the Bloods, in red, with the acronym of ‘Brotherly Love Overrides Oppression and Destruction,’ by a ratio of five to one—at
