There was a half-moon-shaped window at the far end of the attic, which was why Devon chose the house in the first place. The attic accommodated Devon with two escape routes in case he was discovered. The window let out onto part of the roof Devon felt he could jump from and survive, so this was his home for the night. Although he took extraordinary precautions, Devon wasn’t all that worried about his safety. The house was severely looted, so anyone who stayed in the area knew this, and anyone new would see the disaster down below and hopefully move on, looking for more fertile looting grounds.
The following morning, rays of sunlight struggled past the slats on the window at the far end of the attic, drawing Devon out of a deep slumber. The window at the far end was filthy and assuredly had not been cleaned in years. This kept the attic significantly darker than the outside, allowing Devon to sleep in a bit. After he opened his eyes, Devon didn’t move a muscle as he listened for any sign of danger. After nearly ten full minutes, Devon heard nothing to indicate he was in any danger of being discovered.
Slowly he unfolded himself from the stack of blankets and grabbed the rifle. With rifle in hand, Devon carefully made his way toward the dirty window. Most of the beams in the attic had been covered in plywood, providing a flat area to store Christmas decorations along with other things a family rarely used, but couldn’t live without.
Devon walked along the plywood where he could and stepped carefully from beam to beam where there was no plywood. The joists creaked and groaned under his weight, sounding loud enough to alert anyone in the area. Deep down Devon knew the creaks weren’t loud enough for anyone not inside the house to hear, but he couldn’t help wishing they were quieter. He reached the window and peered out. The window was so utterly filthy, Devon couldn’t see a thing. Using his sleeve, he rubbed the window, clearing a small area he could now see through.
The neighborhood he could see was deserted, making him happy he was alone. He fished out the handwritten map and studied it for a moment before stowing the paper and moving back to the access panel.
Outside, Devon did what he always did, move through yards and buildings, keeping to the shadows like a rat or any other small rodent that evolved after being constantly hunted for thousands of years. Devon was smart enough not to need the evolutionary timetable to teach him how to remain out of harm’s way. He moved toward what he thought would be one of the main streets he’d written on the hand-drawn map. Once he found a main street, he could orientate himself and transition from figuring out where he was to hunting down a business that either sold, rented or stored trailers.
John and Jared had asked him to find an open-top trailer so they would not be restricted on how high they stacked the solar equipment. John was adamant about this being a single-trip mission. A short time later, Devon knew where he was and began walking in the direction of a U-Haul business. Two hours of slinking and skulking beneath the shadows of trees, bushes and eaves, he arrived at the rear of the business.
The only instruction John had given him on how to conduct the search operation was to search the closest businesses first. John and Jared didn’t want Devon running all over when the trailer they needed was already at the nearest business to Solar Green. The back of the U-Haul business abutted a less used street with overgrown bushes, which were perfect for Devon to secret himself in while he scanned the yard.
Inside there were dozens of different types of trucks and trailers. Most of the trailers were the enclosed type, but on the far side Devon saw six open-top utility trailers. Devon could see there were several different sized open-top trailers, with a few having a drop-down-style ramp off the back. Devon was pretty sure the selection of trailers inside the yard was exactly what the men wanted, so he took one last look, wished he had a camera to bring back pictures with, then slowly began moving out of the area.
Chapter 39
Late in the afternoon two days after Devon left to seek out a trailer, he returned with a smallish white dog in tow. Calvin was sitting at the OP while the three other men worked at getting the gravity-fed water system up and running, when the teen appeared on the horizon. Calvin grabbed his binoculars when he picked up movement out on a hillside and was immediately put at ease when he recognized Devon.
At first Calvin thought the small dog was a wild animal, but then he saw it was some sort of terrier. As Devon and his tagalong drew near, Calvin guessed the breed to be a Jack Russell or a mixture of Jack Russell and some other small terrier breed. Calvin climbed to his feet as Devon approached to within a hundred yards, and waved to the teen. Devon wagged his chin up once, but didn’t wave. The kid appeared exhausted, so Calvin didn’t hassle him about manners like an older man should when a younger person fails to return a kind gesture of sorts.
Devon stopped when he reached the older man, glancing back as the little dog cruised up and sniffed at Calvin’s leg.
“Followed ya home, huh?” Calvin asked, smiling down at the pooch.
“John wanted a dog. I saw him running around
