Year One (Chronicles of The One #1)(88)

Arlys nodded. “And with structure comes laws, mores, a line of authority, consequences. And information.”

“On the list,” Rachel told her. “We’re going to need to send out scouting parties. Right now it feels like we’re all there is in the world. But people are still trickling in so we know we’re not. We have to know what’s out there. Maybe Chuck can get communications up again, but we don’t know who we’d communicate with, or what we’d risk if we contact the wrong people.”

“Human nature being what it is,” Arlys murmured. “And extra-human, too. Being extra isn’t an immunization against being violent. It just adds a layer. What the hell do we do if we set up laws and one of our Uncannys breaks them?”

“We better figure it out.”

Arlys looked at Jonah, blew out a breath. “All right.”

“My place? We’ve got the room, and Katie can put the babies to bed.” Rachel glanced at Jonah. “Tonight?”

“Sooner the better.”

“I’ll tell Fred.” Arlys pushed to her feet. “And I’ll go up to talk to Bill, talk to Chuck. Katie’s right outside. I’ll tell her on the way. Say nine?”

“It works. Carla’s working the community garden.” Jonah slid his hands into his pockets as he looked at Rachel. “Since we’re clear, do you want to walk down, talk to her? We can round up the others while we’re out.”

“Sure. Let me grab a walkie.” Rachel pulled them from the desk drawer, set one on the desk with the sign saying the doctor is out but available, hooked the other to her belt.

They walked out together to where Katie changed Hannah and the twins lay on a blanket squealing, waving hands, kicking feet.

“They act like I just gave them each a pound of chocolate.” Laughing, she scooped up Hannah for a nuzzle.

Jonah laid a hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what— I do now,” she added when the sound of approaching engines reached her. “Someone’s coming.”

“More than one someone.” Jonah walked down to the sidewalk. He saw others looking as well, coming out of their houses, the other buildings. Shielding his eyes with the flat of his hand against the glare of the sun, he stared.

“Holy shit.”

Rachel pulled out her squawking walkie, scooped up a baby as she answered.

“The sentry cleared them,” she called out to Jonah, and walked down to join him.

“I don’t know if he’d have had much choice. That’s got to be fifteen cars, trucks. And a damn school bus.”

Katie, two babies in tow, and Arlys stepped down to the sidewalk. So together they all watched Max lead his group into New Hope.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Both wary and curious, Arlys studied the man who got out of the lead car. Tall and lean in jeans and a black T-shirt, dark hair curling choppily over the collar, boots worn and scarred. He struck her as hard and handsome, with the scruffy look of a man who’d been on the road for days, maybe weeks.

He had an air about him, she thought, one of confidence and power. He pulled off his sunglasses with one hand, held the other up in a wait signal. More cars and trucks rolled in—more than the fifteen Jonah had estimated. Some with what she thought were horse trailers.

The man scanned the street, the people, appearing to judge whether they held welcome or aggression. He seemed prepared for either.

Beside her, Jonah shifted, then stepped down to walk to him.

“Jonah Vorhies.” After the briefest hesitation, Jonah offered a hand.

“Max Fallon.” Max accepted the hand. “Are you in charge?”

“Ah—”

Arlys went with instinct, speaking as she walked down to join them. “We were the first here. Arlys Reid.”

A woman got out of the passenger side—earning a quick, warning glance from Max.

She wore her long, dark blond hair in a ponytail. A T-shirt bagged over her small baby bump.

“I know you,” she said as she skirted the hood of the car. “I watched your broadcasts. Clung to them right up to the day we left New York. I’m Lana. Max and I lived in Chelsea.”

Lana laid a hand on Max’s arm. “We followed your signs,” she added. “From…”

“South of Harrisburg,” Max said when Lana glanced at him. “We picked up people along the way.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Jonah held his ground as a skinny guy and a tail-wagging dog climbed out of the backseat. “How many are you?”

“Ninety-seven people, eighteen of them under fourteen. Eight dogs—two of them pups—three dairy cows, two Holsteins and a Guernsey, and a bull calf. Two Black Angus calves. Five horses, including a pregnant mare, eight cats, about a dozen chickens, and a rooster.”

Jonah blew out a breath. “That’s a lot. You’re the biggest group we’ve ever had come in even without all the livestock. Are you looking to settle here?”

“New Hope. Following your signs gave people that.” Max looked back as a muscular black man and a tough-looking white man started down the line of cars.

Arlys flicked them a glance, then focused. Her heart literally bumped in her chest. “Oh my God. Oh God. Will? Will Anderson.” Flying on joy, she rushed him, flung her arms around him. She felt him stiffen, start to draw back. “It’s Arlys, Will. Arlys Reid.”