He tossed the peach pit in the kitchen composter, turned to rinse off his hands. “You know, I’ve worked with her on combat training, self-defense. Let’s just say it hasn’t been her strength, right? She was moving from one mobile to the other when they hit us, and I’m yelling at her to get inside, barricade herself and the wounded. But she swings right around. Pow, pow, wham, bam. Man, she is fierce when she’s cornered. A ball-kicker. A fierce ball-kicker.”
“Hannah?” Fallon sincerely couldn’t imagine her loving, openhearted friend kicking balls.
“You bet your ass. It couldn’t have taken us more than a minute, two tops, to subdue them. Hannah’s bleeding a little—the guy whose balls are probably still bruised managed to punch her in the face. So Jonah and I are securing the deserters, and Mom tells me not to let you know, not then. Rachel’s checking out Hannah, and seconds that. Hannah chimes in, all cheerful, how we’re all fine, and not to distract you, and Jonah says the same. Mom gives me that look. You know, the one that says don’t screw with me, and goes back to fixing Dad up.
“I was outvoted, and they were right.”
“Maybe.” Because with words and gestures, Travis had taken her into the thick of it, she understood the decision. She leaned back against the counter. “Maybe, but the enemy shouldn’t have broken through, and that’s a weakness we’ll fix.”
“They were scared shitless, Fallon. Every one of them. Even if I couldn’t see it, and I could, I could feel it. And hey, we won. I gotta get back, but welcome home. Big feast tonight.”
He eyed the pies.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Too late, but I’m not stupid enough to risk the mighty wrath of Mom.”
He opened the door, turned back. “But if we’d needed you, even the mighty wrath of Mom wouldn’t have stopped me from calling you.”
Satisfied with that, she washed out her glass—and his—then took her bags to her room to unpack.
* * *
When Lana came home, carrying supplies, Fallon hopped up from the kitchen counter where she’d set up to draw her new maps.
“My baby.”
Before Fallon could take the cloth bags, Lana set them down, enfolded her.
“I’d hoped to be back before you got here, but Rachel needed some help in the clinic.”
“What happened?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Lana eased back, cupped Fallon’s face to study it. “School’s starting soon, and they’re doing wellness checks. And she wanted to show me some changes they’ve made in the plans for the expansion. Sit while I put these things away and tell me how your brother is.”
“You sit while I put them away.”
Fallon nudged her mother to a counter stool, found olives from the Tropics, oil from the press her father had helped build, peppercorns, coffee beans, a bag of salt.
“Colin’s in his element,” she began. “The troops respect him, which is vital, but they also like him. We turned that fucking palace—” She caught herself, winced. “Sorry.”
“I think we’re beyond me scolding you over language.”
Still, Fallon thought. “That palace of an HQ? We cleared out the unnecessary.”
“And much of it’s been put to use here and elsewhere.”
“It had seven bedrooms, and other rooms that we turned into bedrooms. We’ve got troops housed there. Mallick will have a room there, one with a kind of parlor for his workshop. Colin has a room to himself, it’s the smallest of them. It works. We set up other barracks, and civilian housing.”
She went through the broad details as she put away the supplies, then sat.
Impressed, approving, Lana nodded. “You’re combining the templates from New Hope and our own cooperative back home.”
“I know how they work, and that they work. We need those fortified structures in locations like Arlington especially for training and to keep people safe. When Mallick gets back there—”
“He’s not there now?”
“I asked him to help Mick for a few days, then visit our other bases before he comes here, briefs me. Then he’ll go to Arlington. Colin’s solid, Mom.”
“I know it. I do. But I think he could use some of Mallick’s discipline and worldview.”
“Trust me, he’ll get it.”
“I resented him so much when he took you away. And now I’m depending on him to help another of my children. Life is damn twisty and strange.”
“I need him with Colin, but I need his perspective on our other bases, and future ones.”
Lana looked down at the maps in progress. “You’ve picked locations for others.”
“For bases, for fortifications, for communities they can protect—and who will have to protect themselves. Once Duncan has the Utah base fully secured and running, we’ll need to expand there. The same for Mick in the South. And from here to Arlington.”
Fallon traced a finger over the map. “There’re so many untapped resources, so much land that should be cultivated and put to use. Too many roads, and a lot of them useless. Buildings that need to be dismantled for supplies so we can build those bases and communities. Too many people still hunted and hiding. We need to rally them.”
“You’ve made a good start on that.”
“Not enough.” Fallon pushed up to pace. “Not nearly. I need to double our fighting troops, at least double them to take D.C. I need to—”
She stopped herself, turned back. “We don’t need to get into all this now. I just got home. Let me tell you how it felt to walk into this room and see pies on the counter, fresh bread and lemonade, flowers.”
She walked back, took Lana’s hands. “It reminded me it’s not all battles and wars and beating back the dark. Because there are places like this where the dark is beaten back. Where people live, and kids go to school, and neighbors have cookouts. I need to remember that. I need you to remind me of that when I forget why I took the sword from the fire. Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll forget.”
“No, you won’t. But sometimes I worry you’ll forget if you don’t give yourself a life, if you don’t eat the pie, dance to the music, laugh with friends, and, God, make love with a man you care for, you’ll forget what it means to live. Just live, Fallon.”
Fallon brought her mother’s hand to her cheek. “I could probably choke down some pie now.”
Lana’s bluebell eyes danced with amusement. “That was tricky of you.”
“Did it work?”
“Put on the kettle for tea,” Lana decided. “We’ll both have pie.”
Later, she feasted with neighbors, laughed with friends, danced to the music. And just lived.
* * *
The next day, she visited everyone who’d lost someone in the battle of Arlington. Their grief tore through her even as their strength humbled her. These, too, she knew, she must remember. The day would come when there would be too many lost for her to visit all, to console.
She attended the memorial for the fallen, didn’t hide her tears. When she watched Flynn hang Lupa’s star, she wondered her heart didn’t break to pieces.