Ashen Winter (Ashfall)

stepped out the back door in search of fresh air.

Chapter 86
    Dr. McCarthy followed me outside. “You okay?”
    I was kneeling in the snow, head in my hands. “I should never have stood up on that overpass. Should never have gone looking for my parents. None of this would have happened if we’d just stayed put.”
    He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Terrible things happen to good people, Alex. They did before Yellowstone blew, and it’s even more true now. Hiding out on the farm wouldn’t have protected you or Darla from that.”
    I shook my head, and Dr. McCarthy extended a hand to help me up.
    “You going to the meeting?”
    “Meeting?”
    “Mayor’s addressing all the able-bodied adults in camp tonight.”
    “Guess I’m going, then.”
    “You should.”
    When Darla woke up, Alyssa and I helped her upstairs and got her settled in one of the bedrooms. It was bitterly cold up there, but at least Darla wouldn’t have to sleep with the crowded stench in the living room. As we came out, Mom and Uncle Paul came up the stairs with Rebecca, cousin Max, and cousin Anna in tow.
    We had a little party of hugs and smiles right there in the hallway. For a moment, I was able to forget the horrors of Iowa. The moment passed quickly. They looked tired and wan. After the joy of our reunion had passed, I saw something else in their faces. Fear.
    “Rebecca. I’m sorry,” I whispered, “about Dad.”
    She scowled at me for a moment before her face melted, and she started sobbing. I pulled her into a hug.
    I started trying to explain. “I, he—”
    “I know,” she choked out the words between her sobs. “Mom told me. How he saved your lives.”
    We held each other like that for a bit, while everyone else shuffled uncomfortably around us. Eventually I tried changing the subject. “You going to the meeting tonight?”
    “No.” She broke the hug, folded her arms, and scowled. “They say I’m not an adult.”
    “That’s crazy! At fourteen you’re old enough to walk and chew bubble gum at the same time—of course you’re an adult!”
    Rebecca punched my arm, hard enough to hurt. She’d gotten a lot stronger.
    “Seriously, would you do me a huge favor? Keep an eye on Darla while I’m gone at the meeting—”
    “You get to go? That’s so not fair.”
    “I know. Look, Darla’s sick. Just make sure she stays in bed and rests and get her water and food if she’ll eat.”
    “There isn’t any food, Alex.”
    How could I explain to my little sister that I’d brought food and fully intended to make sure Darla ate even if everyone else in the camp starved? “Never mind the food.”
    “What’s wrong with her?”
    “She got shot. The wound is infected.”
    “Got plenty of that around here. Yeah, I’ll watch her.”
    “Thanks. Love you, sis.” I kissed her on the forehead and left.
    Uncle Paul, Aunt Caroline, Mom, Alyssa, Ben, and I went to the meeting together. A huge bonfire had been lit between the edge of the camp and the woods. Everyone crowded in close enough to absorb the heat radiating from the fire.
    The mayor of Warren, Bob Petty, stepped even closer, so that the fire illuminated his face as he spoke. Soon he was sweating, and the orange light glinting from his wet face gave him a demonic look.
    His speech was long and convoluted, but basically it boiled down to this: Since Stockton invaded Warren, the mayor had assigned scouts to keep watch and look for an opportunity to fight back. Stockton had only moved a small amount of pork and kale out of Warren in the week they’d held it. But earlier today, eleven trucks had pulled into Warren. They were being loaded with pork, kale, and cornmeal, the food the people of Warren needed to survive. The mayor had decided that instead of waiting to starve on the farm, every able-bodied person with a weapon would try to retake Warren. He ended his speech with a bunch of meaningless rah-rah stuff and instructions to be ready at dawn.
    When the applause and scattered cheers died down, Ben spoke into the silence. “That is a stupid plan,” he said in a loud voice. A few people booed, but Ben went on, “It does not make sense to attack where the enemy is expecting it or when he expects it. A better alternative—”
    Ben kept talking, but the mayor shouted over him. “You’re not from Warren, son, and I don’t recall asking for your opinion. It’s decided.”
    The crowd broke out into a babble of conversation. I sucked in a deep breath and