were running through her but she didn’t know where to direct it. What I had done was not palatable but it was a necessary evil.
“Jen, Trav, tie him up and put him in the basement.”
Tracy stood up. It looked like Vesuvius was about to erupt all over again. But she had witnessed what we all had witnessed. Justin was a known threat that could not be swept under the rug any more.
“I just want him out of the way while we set up some sort of defense Tracy.” She nodded in agreement. “He’s a direct pipeline to the enemy. What he sees they see.”
“He’s my baby.” She sobbed.
Jen and Travis looked to me for direction. I nodded. “Bring him down some blankets. One more thing.” Jen stopped. “I want him blindfolded.”
“Why Mike?” Tracy asked, but the fight was out of her.
“The less he knows Mom, the less she knows.” Travis filled in for me. Tracy walked away face in hands.
“Carol we need to talk.” I waited until Justin was secured in the basement and Jen and Travis returned. I had the beginnings of a plan and it was pretty much a do or die scenario. Getting Carol on board was surprisingly easier than I had expected. We all talked there for a few hours going over the finer points and how we would deal with what could go wrong as opposed to what needed to go right. The list of ‘wrong’ was growing at a near geometric rate.
“This is suicide Mike.” Jen said after we had gone over the plan for the twenty-third time.
“Not really, I give it a solid 5 or 6 percent chance of success.” I smiled.
“Bullshit.” BT threw in. “It’s 3 or 4 at best.”
Carol, Fred and Esther’s faces drained of all color at our macabre humor.
“There’s a major flaw in your plan, Mike.” Jen said.
I laughed, what else could I do. “Only one?”
“You know what I mean, ass.” She finished.
“It is a big one I’ll admit that, not much I can do about it though.”
Jen sighed in agreement.
Once we had finished formulating our idea, I hate to say plan, that implies that you think it might actually work. idea gives it more of an abstract feel.
Tracy started to speak. “I...” I cut her off.
“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” She, as expected, started to protest. “This is not open for discussion.” I didn’t raise my voice but the force I laid on those words would have given pause to most Marines. Tracy plowed on.
“Mike.” She began again.
“No.” I said as I held up my hand. “Listen for the twenty three years we’ve been married I’ve known all along that I’m more of a figurehead, I know it and the kids know it. Shit, Henry knows it.”
“Yeah he does.” Tommy said.
“Thank you.” I said to Tommy.
“No problem.” He smiled.
“There have only been a handful of times in our long marriage where I have finally exerted an authority that is only implied.” Tracy nodded in agreement. “And this is going to be another one of them. We do this my way, Tracy. There are no other options.”
“Mike.” She said solemnly. “What makes you think that I could ever let you stand alone? All of our married lives we have met every challenge together. No matter the menace. I could no sooner leave you than I could the kids.”
“But don’t you get it?” I told her as I cupped her face. “You stand with me, you are walking away from the kids.” She pulled away.
“You can’t make me choose.” She cried.
“I’m not letting you choose Tracy. The decision has been made. Besides you heard BT, there’s a good 4 or 5 percent chance this’ll work.”
“I said 3 or 4.” BT chimed in.
“Thanks big man.” I said sarcastically.
“Whatever I can do to help. Oh and by the way, I’m staying.”
“Fuck.” I turned from Tracy to him. “BT that’s not what we discussed.”
“You gonna tell me otherwise?” He asked threateningly.
“Fine BT, your funeral.”
“Mike you said this could work.” Tracy said with desperation in her voice.
“It was just a figure of speech, hon.”
“Poor choice of words dad.” Travis chimed in.
“What is wrong with the peanut gallery tonight?” I asked the heavens. (There was no answer...go figure)
“Dad an extra gun could be useful.” Travis said.
“NO!” Tracy and I yelled in unison, at least we agreed on this one thing.
CHAPTER 25 
The next morning was industrious. Fred was becoming more of a stalwart ally than I would have been willing to give him credit for. His knowledge of how to shore up a house for an incoming storm was invaluable. This wasn’t your proto-typical storm so to speak but the theory was the same. We wanted to keep the outside elements from coming in. Travis, Jen and I prepared more than a few surprises. Nothing that would stop them, alas I didn’t have a nuke, this was more of a giving the finger gesture. It was right up my alley. Had I known what surprises Eliza had for me, I might not have been so inclined.
Tracy and Nicole made preparations for our hopefully hasty retreat once the time came. She questioned me once on the room in the cars. ‘If there’s no room now Mike, then how will there be when we leave.’ I just stared at her until she understood and walked away.
To be fair, if this worked, it could be all over for all of us, not just some of us. Carol walked around this house in a daze. Crying as she randomly picked up objects and set them carefully back down in the same location. She was mourning a loss she hadn’t suffered yet, but I wouldn’t begrudge her that.
Esther, Jack and Jill killed 6 chickens for lunch. We had fried chicken fit for a king.
“Reminds me of home.” BT said longingly as he rubbed his belly. He had only awakened long enough to consume two of the chickens all by himself.
After lunch Carol and I headed out to the barn that housed the animals.
“Oh Mike.” She buried her head in my shoulder.
“It’s for the best Carol. You heard Fred, apparently they’ve expanded their diets.”
I could feel the revulsion convulse through her.
We had earlier taken care of the chickens. I burped quietly, my belly content in the greasy soaking. I opened the pigpen. The giant five hundred pound sow named Charlotte looked expectantly at me like it was feeding time. Her just removed suckling saw daylight and went, I would imagine whee, whee, whee all the way home.
Charlotte was having none of it. She had spent her entire life in this 15 by 15 foot stall while the human caregivers had constantly brought her food and water. Her rudimentary mind had come to the conclusion that she must be some sort or revered being. Which in all actuality isn’t too far from the truth. Problem being though when her end came it wasn’t going to be on a burning Viking ship. More like a burning barbecue pit with some spice rub and a keg of cold beer. Maybe the Super Bowl on T.V.
“Mike?” Carol asked. “You alright?”
“Sorry thinking about something infinitely better.”
“Aren’t we all.” She responded.
I could only nod in agreement.
Bessie saw me coming, her eyes widened in fear. Couldn’t say I blamed her. How long would it take to field dress a t-bone out of her? The chicken grumbled in my belly.
“You’re lucky old girl.”
“Lucky?” Carol asked. “She’s most likely going to freeze to death.”
“Oh that.” I answered guiltily.
