Free Human Extinction Level Loss (Book 3): Liberation by Philip A. McClimon

watched as Jacob stowed his gear, always careful, obsessively so with the rifle and his ledger. His vigil had gone long past dark and it was near midnight when he returned.
    Without saying a word, Jacob reached in and grabbed two cans, one clam chowder, the other beef stew. Using a can opener, he removed the lids and stuck a metal spoon in each, then left them sitting on the tailgate. Grabbing a can of chicken and rice, he went around to the driverside and sat down.
     
    As Beverly and Tommy finished eating, Tommy looked up at his mother.
    “It’s almost midnight, time for the broadcast, don’t ya think,” he said.
    Beverly smiled wanly and set her empty can on the tailgate. Going around to the driverside, she approached Jacob. The only illumination was from the Jeep’s interior dome light, casting Jacob in amber shadows as he ate. He continued to eat as she stood there.
    “We try to catch the radio broadcast at least once a day… Do you think we could listen to it on your radio?” Beverly asked.
    Jacob continued to eat for a few more seconds and didn’t look at Beverly. She was about to plead her case further when Jacob shrugged and gestured toward the radio with a slight movement of his head. Beverly crossed her arms and nodded at him.
    “Thank you. They usually aren’t long, but with no TV or music, you know…”
    Her words trailed off as Jacob’s only response was to stare into his can and continue eating.
    A few seconds later, Beverly opened the passenger side door and sat down. Tommy leaned against her and turned on the radio. Jacob, his back to them, did not show any interest. Static greeted them across the airwaves and Beverly checked her watch.
    “She’ll start right at twelve, mom. Nicole’s never late. She knows people out here are relying on her,” Tommy said.
    Beverly blinked back her tears, hearing the quiet confidence in her young son that hinted at a wisdom beyond his years. True to her son’s word, a second later the static ceased and a woman began to speak.
     
    “ This is Nicole Bennett. We are survivors. To anybody that can hear us, and can get here, we offer you refuge. I guess those words are getting old by now, but it just seems the right way to begin. We have a good place here and we welcome any who want to make a new start and are willing to lend a hand.
    Okay, it’s the late broadcast and for those weary on the road, I won’t keep you long. Get some sleep, stay safe wherever you are and tomorrow, if you can, make miles West on the 70. When you get here, there will be folks waiting at the gates for you. If you are just passing through, we can offer you a bowl of hot stew. It’s made from scratch by Ruby herself. We set up a trading post of sorts. We’d be happy to trade for things we need and maybe get you something you need.
    Speaking of which, we welcome you free of charge, but if on your way here you happen along some things we need, we would be obliged if you could pick them up. The things we could use right now are cases of air freshener. Febreeze would be best, but we will take all kinds. Along with that, those plastic zip ties, the kind cops sometimes use to cuff people. Any size will do.
    I said when you get here we would ask you some questions, but it’s not an interrogation. We are a growing community, but still small. We need everybody to lend a hand wherever they can, but if you have a special skill it would be good to know.
    This is not a dictatorship or an armed camp, just folks who need each other. We all have different strengths and together we can make it better.
    I promised I would keep it short and so I will. This is not a loop, we are real. Stay safe tonight and get here when you can.
    This is Nicole Bennett, signing off.”

    Tommy reached over and switched off the radio. He sat staring at it for several seconds before looking up at his mother. Beverly stared down at her son, the hope and pleading in his eyes was like a knife to her heart.
    “Do you think