Free Behind the Ruins (Stories of the Fall) by Michael Lane Page A

move on
us at all, if we can,” Grey said. “I’ve been pondering it over the winter. We
have to worry them.”
    “How
do you propose we do that?” Tom asked. His smile was back.
    “We
do, partly, what you want to do - we dig in at a few spots to make them work if
they get here. But we also hit them early and often and in spots they don’t
expect,” Grey said. “Most importantly, we do it first.”
    “Do
you mean go south?” Josie asked.
    “I
do, with a small group who I think can do the job.”
    “You
have people in mind?” Doc asked, rocking back in his chair.
    “Some,
but I want to ask each in private. I don’t want anyone going out of guilt, or
because they’re worried people will know they chose not to go. This won’t be a
camping trip for fun,” Grey said.
    “I’ll
go,” Clay said, and finished his bourbon in a single long sip.
    “Thanks,
I’d kinda figured on asking you,” Grey said, smiling a little.
    “I’m
coming, too,” Doc said. Grey stopped smiling and glared at the old physician,
who waved a hand to cut him off. “Don’t even start. You’ll need me before
you’re done. I’m not planning on shooting anyone, but I expect there’ll be some
get hurt.”
    “Doc,
that’s noble, but we need you for the community,” Tom said, spreading his
hands. “You can’t just run off on some secret mission.”
    “I
don’t work for you, Tom,” Doc said, “and I know my job. You have half a dozen
good midwives, and the hills are full of amateur pharmacists that can handle
most things. Hell, get Three Bears from the Westbank Nation. He’s at least as
good as I am as a family practitioner. I’m a trauma surgeon, and this is what I
do. Did.”
    Grey
didn’t look happy, nor did Tom, but Doc’s expression hinted that argument was a
waste of breath. Josie rolled her eyes and managed a smile.
    “I
can’t shoot for beans, but I’m good at gathering gossip, so I’ll stay here. My
sister, though. You remember Georgia?” she asked, poking Grey with a boot under
the table.
    “She
that short, snakey woman with the evil green eyes?” Grey asked.
    “Yes,
my twin sister, you ass,” Josie said. “She’s living at the Dell, now. She has a
ranch and a bunch of horses, but she ran with some of the rough crowd for years
after our parents died. She says she’s bored. I’ll see if she’s available.”
    “I’ll
take anyone who knows what the stakes are, you know that, Josie. Be sure she
understands what this will be like,” Grey said.
    “You
never knew her very well. Trust me, she’ll enjoy this.”
    “That’s
scary,” Clay said.
    “ She’s scary,” Josie replied.
    “Then
I guess we want her in the tent pointed out,” Clay said, pouring himself
another drink.
    “When
will you want to go?” Tom asked. Grey’s opinion of him rose a bit when the Port
manager didn’t bother making an excuse for not volunteering.
    “Soon
as the snow’s gone and the mud’s not too bad,” Grey answered. “April, probably,
and keep it quiet, please. Let me do the asking, and keep what you’ve heard
here to yourselves. Your father will be all sorts of curious, Henry, so you
take him aside and tell him in private. Tell him I’ll be out your way next
week. We can talk more, then.”
    “I’ll
keep working on the Port’s defenses,” Tom said. “I assume that’ll be in line
with keeping your plan quiet?”
    Grey
nodded. “And it’s insurance, anyway. We’ve got to assume nothing will work
right, because it never does.”
     
    The
cabin was hot as an oven with so many present, and Grey stepped outside
following more small-talk. Snow squeaked under his boots and the air was cold
enough to freeze the mucus in his nose with each breath. The horses whickered,
blowing clouds of steam, thick as cream in the moonlight.
    The
winter silence stood between the ranks of trees with a weight and presence
accentuated by the small noises of the horses, the muffled murmur from inside
the cabin as people bedded