Sleep was becoming my greatest enemy. I had gotten plenty of practice in self-deprivation and it made me well-prepared for our night in the barn. No matter Big Al's assurances that we'd be safe and that he'd keep an eye on things, I wasn't about to trust an outsider on his word.
I promised Ray that he could take the next shift on watch, but by the time it was deep into the night, I made the decision not to wake him. I knew I wasn't going to sleep. Big Al had tried to keep me engaged in conversation at first, asking lots of questions about where we'd come from and the situation in the north. I'd given him short answers and he eventually caught on to my lack of interest. As nice as he may have seemed, I didn't want to get to know him.
At some point, Big Al leaned back in his wooden chair and closed his eyes. I would have believed that he'd drifted off to sleep had it not been for the steady hold he kept on his gun. His relaxed posture had the strange effect of giving me a sense of security. It was as though his lack of fear took the edge off of our situation.
Trying not to let my guard down, I spent a good amount of time listening to the world around me. Over my friends' soft snores and the hum of the generator, every once in a while I could hear signs of life as people moved about the barn, quietly chatting as they did. Outside, I could hear the howling wind as the storm picked up. A shiver ran through me at the mere thought of it.
The more time that passed, the deeper I fell into my thoughts. I tried to think over our situation and find a solution. I tried to come up with a plan. Instead, I found my eyes and thoughts drifting towards the sleeping form on the far side of the room.
No matter how hard I'd tried to put it off, I knew what had happened between me and Ian had never really left my mind. It was constantly knocking around in the back of my skull, waiting to be picked over. It didn't matter that Ian had given me time. It didn't matter that I'd avoided him.
He was always in my head.
I knew from the start that I hadn't kissed him to run from my bad feelings but to run towards good ones. For weeks, Ian had been acting like the string to my kite. I needed to keep us going, but I knew that sometimes I would get too caught up in my worries and my plans. He kept me grounded, reminding me to sleep and eat during times when it felt impossible. He made me laugh and was there for me when I cried.
The problem was that I acted on my feelings before I really knew they existed. It was hard to admit them to myself for a slew of reasons and, even if I could finally acknowledge the truth, I didn't see how I could tell him. Survival was too important.
The light slowly shifted in the barn as the sun rose. At some point, Big Al switched out with an older woman, but he made sure to give me a smile and wave before he left. She was far more prone to silence and it was fine with me.
Carlos was the first one to wake up in my group. "Didn't sleep?" he asked when he saw that I hadn't moved from my spot.
I shrugged. "Wasn't tired.
He moved out from his sleeping bag on the floor next to Ray and joined me on the far side of the stall, taking a moment to stretch before sitting beside me. He hadn't said much since we'd arrived but it looked as though he was working up to it. He warily eyed the woman by the stall's door. "What do you make of all of this?"
His voice was almost inaudible and I did my best to match. "I don't know," I answered honestly. The group seemed friendly, but that didn't mean much. In the "north" – as they called it – all we had found was chaos and desperation. The group we now faced was fortified and confident in their stability. We were dealing with something brand new.
"Do you have a plan?"
I dug my nails into my palms. "Nope."
Carlos rubbed the stubble on his jaw as he seemed to think.
Guilt prickled at the back of my neck. I had tried to plan, but I wasn't even sure what I was planning for. I couldn't find a single way that we weren't at a disadvantage. "We're just going to have to take things as they come," I added. My answer hardly helped, but it was all I had to offer until I got a better handle on what was happening outside.
"That's fine." Carlos gave me what almost seemed like a look of reassurance. "We'll follow your lead."
I studied him, feeling more than a little confused. I had expected him to disagree or protest – maybe even offer some advice. I hadn't been prepared for the level of trust he placed in me. He looked tired and a bit pale, but he managed to give me a shadow of a smile.
Footsteps approached and, moments later, Jaquan appeared in the stall's doorway. He spotted me and Carlos almost instantly and smiled. I watched as he whispered something to the guard before coming over to join us. "How was your night?" he asked.
"Fine," I said, trying to keep the wariness from my voice. "How was yours?"
"Not bad. It could have been much worse." He grinned as though it was a joke but we all knew exactly how bad it truly could have been. "Do you guys need anything."
I looked at my group. Most of them were still sleeping but a few had begun to stir. "No, I don't think so. At least, not yet. How's the weather outside? Did it snow?"
"You're about to see for yourself. Gertie wants to see you," Jaquan said casually, catching me off guard.
"Me?"
He grinned at my surprise. "Is your name Kate?"
"Yes?"
"Then yes. You."
I glanced at Carlos to see him working his jaw in agitation. Not wanting him to get involved, I patted his knee. "Why?" I asked Jaquan, wanting to keep his focus on me.
Jaquan shrugged. "Don't know. Didn't ask."
I wanted to see what the weather looked like anyway and it wasn't as though I could resist them if they insisted. Not wanting to make an ordeal of it, I got to my feet. My muscles ached and my joints popped in protest from the change in position. I began to regret not sleeping.
"Alright then, I guess, lead the way."
Jaquan gave another little shrug and then waved me on, indicating to follow him.
"I'll be back," I told Carlos, putting a confidence in my voice that I didn't feel. I had no idea what Gertie had in store for me, so instead, I focused on getting my bearings.
We were in the heart of the barn. I counted what seemed to be seven stalls last night, but as it had been the night before, Jaquan was rushing me to the door. It was almost as though he purposely didn't want to give me the chance to study the space in detail.
"Get ready," Jaquan warned.
Before I could ask what for, he opened the small side door towards the front of the barn, letting in a gust of snowy wind. I hugged myself, zipping up my coat higher up my neck as I did. The chill was the worst I'd felt in at least two weeks.
"We're going to make a run for the house," Jaquan told me as he guided me out of the barn and into the fresh four inches of snow on the yard as he closed the door. "Let's go."
He took off and I did my best to keep pace. I wanted to try and see if anyone was outside on watch. Unfortunately, between the cold and the pace, it was impossible to gather any new information.
We made it to the front porch where Jaquan began to stamp his boots to get the worst of the snow off. When he looked at me expectantly, I followed suit.
"Gertie's going to be in the back. Don't bother anyone, okay?"
"Okay." I wasn't exactly sure what I was agreeing to, but the moment he opened the front door, I was met with a clammer of noise. It didn't matter that the sun was barely in the sky, the house was awake and alive.
Ushered inside, I could feel the warmth. I could smell the remnants of smoke from a fire, but the house could have just as easily been heated by another generator. Besides that, the place looked older and a bit worn, but it was prettily decorated and well-kept.
"Hurry up," Jaquan urged.
I could see why he didn't want me to linger in the front hall. Resting on a table by a staircase that lead upstairs, there were at least twenty boxes of ammo.
We cut through a family room and a dining room and in each room, no fewer than six people were bustling about, preparing to go about their day.
Just how many people are here?
At the back of the house, a sliding glass door lead outside to what looked like a small greenhouse. Inside it, I could make out Gertie. She stood by one of the three tables inside of it, fussing over a potted plant.
Opening the door, Jaquan once again guided me through. Gertie looked up and gave Jaquan a warm smile as we entered.
"Thank you," she said to him. "Could you get Tory to watch the door?"
"Sure thing," Jaquan answered her, turning to me, he added, "see you in a bit."
"Uh, okay?" I was at a loss for what was happening. All I do was watch as Jaquan exited the greenhouse, closing me in with Gertie as he did.
The air in the greenhouse was pleasantly warm despite the snow falling on the other side of the glass. It smelled of fresh soil and basil – two smells I was unsure I'd ever experience again. Gertie was focused on pruning a small plant in front of her and took a moment to finish up turning her attention to me.
"What do you think?" she asked as she took her garden gloves off.
"It's amazing." Its mere existence was astounding to me.
"Isn't it?" Gertie's pride was evident and I would have been too, had I been in her shoes. "I was always much better with my animals than tomatoes, but I'd say it's coming along nicely."
I looked at the plants and could identify a few. My excitement deflated a bit when I realized that most were either buds or herbs.
As though reading my mind, Gertie's expression soured slightly. "It's not much now, but we have hope for the spring. See this has become my obsession."
From the corner of my eye, I could see the woman, who I assumed was Tory, move to stand on the other side of the glass door. She carried an impressive-looking assault rifle in her hands.
"All I want is to find a way to make us self-reliant." Gertie leaned against the table across from me, crossing her arms as she did. "How has your group managed so far?"
I felt a blush creep up my neck. I had no shame in what I'd done to keep us alive but that didn't mean I was proud of it either. "It's been hard."
My non-answer made Gertie's expression become pinched. "And yet you have more than a dozen cans of food. How did that happen?"
I raised my chin a little, determined to not be cowed by her. "I did what I had to do."
"Ah, of course." Gertie uncrossed her arms and went back to her garden gloves, putting them on with some amount of agitation. "You know, I can tell a lot about a person by what they bring when they travel through here. Just last week we had a couple pass through here and all they had were the clothes on their back and a picture of their daughter. Do you know why they were like that?"
She shot me a look before poking at the soil of a mint plant. "It's because of people like you."
Her words sent a wave of fury through me. I couldn't speak to what she'd gone through, but I knew the struggles my group had faced and I refused to be judged for doing something about it.
"If you want us gone, then we'll leave. Just give us our stuff back," I said through gritted teeth.
Gertie took a deep breath before letting it out in a long hiss of a sigh. "I'm sorry. That was unfair of me. You haven't harmed us, so we have no reason to harm you and that includes by sending you out to freeze to death. You also saved Jaquan and we still owe you for that."
Despite my best effort, I couldn't hold myself back. "So, you aren't worried we'll rob you? Steal your plants?"
Gertie looked almost amused. "I'm confident you won't. But we'll defend ourselves if we need to."
"Does that mean you'll hurt us? Kill us for taking some food?"
She read right through my baiting questions. "There is a difference between what we do and what you do. We never have the intention to hurt anyone. We always give them a chance."
"And you're assuming we don't?" My voice raised a little, giving away the emotions I'd hoped to mask.
"We don't steal. We've had dozens of people try to rob us and have let almost all of them go. We only kill people if they give us no other choice."
I scoffed. "Those options are only possible because you are living in luxury."
Gertie moved her hands away from her plant. Her cold eyes held me in place. "Luxury doesn't exist anymore. We all have to make choices about where we draw our line – about what we're willing to do and not do. Ours just differ."
"I guess so," I responded bitterly.
"Let me ask you this." Gertie leaned in slightly meeting my glare with composure. "Have you ever asked yourself how you'll handle facing your actions one day?"
She had lost me. "What do you mean?"
"I mean – if you survive all this – when you look back on your life, will you be satisfied with the choices you've made?"
I hadn't ever thought about it, but it also seemed naïve to me. "You're assuming I had choices."
"Everyone has a choice."
"What were my choices then? Starve? Let the people I care about starve? I had the ability to save us and so I did."
"That may be true," Gertie said, going back to her plant. "But have you even asked yourself where you draw the line?"
"What do you mean? Of course I have."
"I'll tell you the same thing that I tell everyone here – survival isn't enough. To make all of this worth it, we have to live lives with dignity and decency. Otherwise, what are you fighting so hard for?"
She tried to make it all seem so simple but it wasn't. I wanted to survive. I wanted the people I cared about to survive. There was nothing wrong with fighting for our own lives.