Maria had come outside during the fiasco. She seemed dismissive of the girl fight, obviously just concerned with her garden. The shed had scorched much of it already. “Betty, can you help me get her back inside?" Carla asked.

  They did, and Joshua followed them in with Jackson. The boy tugged on her sleeve, and Carla knelt down. "I'm sorry you had to see that," she said, genuinely disgusted with herself and how badly the day had deteriorated. She wanted the boy to have a safe place to live...a better life. Yet, her home was obviously as fucked up as the rest of the world.

  He ignored her apology but glanced out the window nervously. "We need to go."

  The words stabbed at Carla. She'd promised to keep him safe, and already she was assuming that she might have to fight off neighbors tonight. They would have seen and smelled the fire. That was probably what was coming. They were probably all half-starved and would be pissed that she'd been holding out. None would accept that it wasn’t even hers to give away. She was part of the patrol, supposedly someone they could trust. Someone who might help.

  "Why do you think that, Jackson?"

  "Bad men coming. I want to go back to Anna's house."

  Carla couldn't help but be enraged, but not at the boy, he was innocent, but at herself and the world outside these doors. She had done everything she could to help her little piece of San Antonio. All the sacrifices she'd made, shit, the lives she'd taken, all for the sake of keeping others alive. To give them hope for a better tomorrow. And now she'd arranged a trade deal that could benefit everyone. Betty was right, though, everything she did just seemed to screw things up even worse.

  Joshua moved closer. She saw him shake his head. "Don't doubt yourself now, Carla." In a whisper, he continued. "You're in charge, though. We do what you say."

  That was just it, she had no idea what to do. She was the one putting them all at risk. If they went with her, they would all be targets, yet she couldn't just abandon them all. "Fuck!" She looked down and apologized to the boy.

  Carla wondered whether she could persuade these people to see her point of view. This was home, none of them would leave willingly. Her top priority was to keep Meredith, Maria, and Jackson safe.

  She heard Meredith yell out from somewhere outside. "They're here!"

  Maria stared blankly, past Betty. "Was there a cookout? I smell a campfire."

  Carla stood and eased over to the front door and cracked it open. What she saw terrified her.

  "No...no...no!" It wasn't Cleveland's militia. No—the mob had found them. Many held lanterns and torches. The scene reminded her of villagers coming to blame the local witch for their bad luck.

  They weren't attacking, though. They were not shouting protests. Mostly, they stood there in an orderly group near the edge of the yard. In the flickering light she began to recognize some of them. She'd seen them before, many of them from the church, all listening in rapt attention to her sister's ravings.

  And there Meredith was, right in the center of the gathering, definitely getting the attention she apparently craved. Carla was slowly coming to terms with the fact that this really was her sister's mission in life. There was nothing she could say or do to pull her away from what she was doing. The crowd obviously loved her and needed to hear whatever Meredith was saying.

  They are as crazy as she is. At least they didn't seem to want to burn them out of their house.

  Joshua spoke up, “Yeah, she’s been gone nearly every night you were gone. I heard she was, you know…doing her thing at the church.”

  Jackson had slipped out the door behind them. The small boy had wormed his way through the group to Meredith's side. He clutched her hand as if it were a lifeline, in the midst of the adoring mob as it shifted and moved like a living entity. Carla was thrown off by his attachment to her sister. They had obviously formed a bond in their brief time together. She knew he was very bright, but pairing up with Meredith didn't seem to fit. He obviously had no clue what was going on around him, but then again, neither did Carla.

  She'd promised Jackson that she would take him away from the horrors of that town and offer him a more normal childhood. Instead, she had delivered him into the clutches of insanity. She pushed her way through the pressing mob. They all seemed to want to get closer and closer to Meredith, and the grunts and complaints as Carla moved toward the middle was nerve racking. The press of bodies, the smells, all of them in this rapturous fever dream. It was all just too much. Her hand finally reached the boy. He seemed frozen to her sister's side, but slowly he nodded and allowed Carla to lead him away from the group.

  She took the child back toward the house, where Maria stood watching from the doorway. "Grandma, please get him back inside," she said. "Both of you go to your bedroom, close the doors, and don't open them for anything."

  Carla wondered how clear-headed her abuela was right now. But the older woman looked down at Jackson and nodded wordlessly.

  "Come on, Joshua," Maria whispered to Jackson as she led him upstairs, and Carla shook her head, understandably worried. "It's Jackson, Grandma. The boy's name is Jac..." She gave up and went back to the window.

  Betty eased the exterior door closed, then turned to face her. "So, what now?"

  "I don't think we can stay here," Joshua said. "Maybe my house for tonight, but after that..." He shrugged.

  "I still don't understand why you brought all this on us," Betty said as she sat heavily on the old sofa.

  Carla didn't want to explain herself again, but she needed them all to see the seriousness of the situation. "First of all, all that is not me." She waved a hand toward the street. "I have no fucking clue what that is.

  “Secondly, the mayor, had to go. I'm sorry if it makes things worse, and it definitely wasn't my plan, but the man was evil. I'll admit that getting the food and medicine was my main goal. I didn’t think things through, but when I saw everything that bastard was hoarding, I kinda lost it. He had several autodocs just sitting there collecting dust. Imagine what that could do for the clinic."

  "And the only way you could get them was by killing the mayor?" Betty asked. "I understand you were thinking about us...about your family. But, if you hadn't killed Cleveland, the clinic might still be open.”

  "You already said you were closing; you were running out of everything."

  "What we were in desperate need of was doctors!" Betty was adamant. "Do you believe they grow on trees? No one is going to step forward now and try to help if they believe they may lose their life as a result."

  "Carla was trying to help," Joshua insisted, "Those guys would have eventually bled us dry. It was never a question of 'if' but of 'when.' They would have left us with nothing if we had given them enough time, Betty. And I think deep down, you know that. She definitely did some fucked-up shit, but I guarantee she did it for the right reasons. Yes, it may make it worse in the short-term, but she did a good thing, and it couldn't have been easy for her. She barely got away with her life."

  "You know, I want to buy into that logic, but you don't need to take up for your friend. She is obviously very capable of that herself." Betty's words were dripping with sarcasm.

  "Unfortunately, I have my own responsibilities," Betty continued. "People out there still need our help." As if on cue, a disjointed singing started from the mob. "People are going to die without real help. It will be your fault, Carla. If anyone dies because the clinic is gone, that is on you."

  Carla refused to accept the woman's skewed logic. "I did everything I could to help people. That’s something I won't apologize for. I'm working hard to ensure that we have a future worth living for."

  "With what?" Betty yelled. "Your mission to set up some kind of trade with Lehigh certainly isn’t panning out.”

  "I made a deal with a group of local farmers, so we will be able to feed some of these people in the meantime."

  "And what about the mayor's private army?" Betty asked. "Do you think that just because you cut the snake's head off, they'll turn around and never bother you again?" Some asshole like him will always be out there. You take him out; another will step out of the shadows. And the next one will almost certainly be even worse."

  She wasn’t wrong, Carla knew that. "The other option is to roll over and give up, Betty. And I'm not going to let anyone put me in the ground without a fight."

  Betty looked down at the floor and gave a grim smile. She did admire Carla's spirit in the face of adversity. "If I were you, sweetheart, I'd look to get your affairs in order. Those goons are coming. They will track you down, and by the time they're done, no one will be able to find what's left of you."

  There was a loud noise outside. A sound they all assumed they'd never hear again.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Carla knew of only one group that still had functioning vehicles. The soldiers from Lehigh.

  She looked again outside at the large crowd making up her sister's cult. Why are they here? she wondered, as well as what they would do if the militia guys started shooting. They might support her sister, keep her safe, but she doubted it. More likely, they would flee in every direction. Carla needed to keep all of her family safe.

  "CARLA GARCIA!" someone yelled. Carla already felt there was no way out when a masculine voice added, "If you don't come out here now, we'll burn down your house with you and everyone else still inside. You murdered our mayor, released all the brats, and now you are going to see how we treat traitors."

  Betty had been right; they were after her. She had to hope that if she walked out there herself, they would allow the rest of her family to live. She wasn't about to do it unarmed, though. She had no illusions of living through this, but that didn't mean she wanted to commit suicide. Carla was about to arm herself when the realization hit. She no longer had her gun. She didn't have any kind of weapon, except the item hanging from her back still on the lanyard. It wasn’t much, but it might help.

  Betty walked up nervously and handed her something black and heavy. "You're going to need this."

  Carla felt the weight, it was an old-style handgun. Stamped into the barrel were ‘Glock’ and ‘9mm.’

  "Do you happen to have a cannon hidden somewhere?" Carla cracked a joke, trying one last time to be funny...to be brave.

  "Sorry dear, it's all I've got," Betty said, shrugging. "You have eleven rounds in there, just pull the trigger. Make them count, hon. I'm...I'm sorry I blamed you. Your young man is right. I know you were just trying to do what was right.

  "You can't seriously be thinking about going out there," Joshua yelled from his hiding spot by the window. "They will kill you on sight!"

  "This is my mess," Carla said. She was attempting to get her nerves under control.

  Maria appeared in the doorway with the boy just behind. "I thought I heard singing. Now, who's that yelling outside? Are the neighbors fighting again?"

  "No one, Abuela, just go back to your room. Someone out there I need to talk to —that's all."

  "Okay, honey. You sure?"

  "Yes' ma'am." Carla went and hugged her grandmother tightly, knowing it was likely the last time. She had a lifetime of words she wanted to say, but instead, she just held her a moment longer and then directed her back up to her bedroom.

  She then bent down to Jackson; tears filled her eyes. "This isn't what I had in mind for you. Look,” she said coming up with a new plan for the child. “I want you to slip out the back and hide somewhere. Make it somewhere really good, okay?"

  The little boy nodded. "If me or Meredith don't come find you, you may have to go back to Mister Tom's farm by yourself. I won't be able to help you anymore." The boy reluctantly followed her outstretched hand toward the back door.

  Josh...if I, you know," Carla started, turning back to the others.

  "Oh, no," Betty responded as she shook her head. "You're not getting off that easily. You've helped create this shitstorm, and you need to figure out how to make it right. And how can you accomplish that if you're dead?"

  "And I'm right there with her on that one, Carla," Joshua said. "You don't have permission to die. Besides, I'm going with you."

  The call for her to come out came again along with loud shots from some of the others. It sounded like her personal mob was ready for the lynching.

  Josh had also produced a weapon. She'd never known him to handle guns, but apparently, he had one stashed away. Betty was soon holding a long kitchen knife. They were preparing for battle. "So, basically," Carla sighed. "A team of very pissed off heavily armed soldiers is pitted against two women and a gym teacher. And we're expected to be victorious?"

  "I'm sure the odds could be worse," Joshua commented. "Besides, I was a very good gym teacher."

  “Well, thank you, thank you, both. I would never ask you to do this, but I do appreciate it." Carla's legs refused to move, but finally, she took a step towards the door.

  Joshua's hand blocked her path, "Wait! Carla, there's something I need to tell you before we walk out there."

  Carla, knew exactly what the man wanted to say. Even though Joshua had never said the words aloud, she had always known.

  Betty became aware of the situation. "Do you plan on making those your final words, Romeo?" she asked with a grin.

  "Save it, Joshua," Carla said, clutching the doorknob.

  "But…I might not get another chance!"

  "That should motivate you to get us through this in one piece," Carla stated flatly. The man on the street yelled more urgently for her to come out. She could see firelight coming closer to the house. Her confidence faded as she turned the knob and slowly walked out.

  The church congregation remained in the streets, protectively encircling Meredith and providing her with cover. There seemed to be even more of them now.

  The military truck was parked in the center of the road, with the mayor's men positioned to the front and sides. They all held long guns, rifles, and shotguns, Carla guessed.

  She stepped out, the pistol tucked behind her back, "Listen!" she said, taking a cautious step forward, arms raised high. "I'm the one you're looking for. You have no cause to harm anyone else here. Please let them go!"

  The man leading the assault was leaning out of the hatch on the top of the truck. He remained stationary, his gaze fixed on Carla. "You don't get it, do you? It's not about what you did to the mayor. Look around you. Others will try to seize control. And obviously, you already have quite a following."

  Carla wanted to correct him, let him know they weren't her people, but maybe this error could work in her favor. Meredith’s people clearly outnumbered the armed men. The man whose name she finally remembered, Kincaid, kept talking.

  "All these people may follow you. But that's the beauty of heroes. They make excellent martyrs." He leveled the rifle at her, and she began to reach for her own pistol when a bullet ripped through his shoulder. Blood sprayed in a wide arc, and his weapon clattered off the vehicle and into the street.

  Carson was standing there, gun in hand, pumping shots downrange as fast as he could cycle the weapon. It was brave, but it was suicidal. Several more of Kincaid's men went down before they could even turn toward the gunman. Carla couldn't believe what she was seeing. Carson had stepped up to be the guy she had always asked him to be. Her own pistol joined in the fray and shot one man under the chin. He went down less than two yards away from her.

  Then she heard her sister’s voice and almost as one, her followers yelled a bloodcurdling battle cry and charged the soldiers. The crowd had not been unarmed, for now they all seemed to have machetes, sharpened tools, even one with a hunting bow. They were unified in their purpose, and the armed militia never had a chance. A few of Meredith’s people were cut down, but they inflicted much heavier losses against the soldiers.

  The battle had briefly swung in Carla's favor. Kincaid, who was now clutching the bloodied stub of his arm, blew a whistle. Headlights lit up the street farther down the block, and her heart sank as she saw even more troops heading toward them. As the streets were filled with the remains of followers, the soldiers’ fury and sheer firepower began to tip the scales in their favor.

  Carla had been firing and pivoting and hadn't noticed Kincaid had drawn a handgun and had leveled it shakily towards her. She swung hers up to shoot, but she was too slow. Before she got the man in her sights, she heard the shot and fully expected to feel the burning heat as it seared through her body. Instead, a bullet ripped the man's jaw clean off, and he fell onto the hood of the truck, gurgling blood out the gaping slash as he died.

  Carla turned to see Joshua clutching the pistol. "I told you I'd have your back," he said grimly.

  Along the corner of the house, she saw a small figure mostly in shadow. "Oh, God!"

  "What?" Joshua asked.

  Carla pointed, "It's Jackson. He didn't hide. "

  They were both taking cover behind the front of the massive truck now. The skirmishes had broken up into many smaller battles, but getting Carla was still clearly the main focus. “I got him!" Joshua yelled before sprinting off toward the boy. Bullets fell like rain, but somehow, he made it to the corner of the house.

  Another shot rang out before Carla could protest. This time she felt the heat of the bullet as it grazed through the tender flesh of her neck. As a trickle of blood began to flow, she screamed in pain and clamped a hand to it. Her other hand shakily held the Glock, but nothing was happening. Her eleventh round had already been fired.

  "NO!" Carson screamed as he raced towards Carla.

  "We got her!" one of the remaining soldiers yelled. "We've got the bitch!"

  Carla's scream had broken through to Meredith who'd been absorbed in the fight but not actually a part of any of it. "Carla!" she yelled. Despite the visions of Carla's death, Meredith couldn't bear to see another family member gone.

  Meredith wasn't the only one who heard Carla scream. Maria was stumbling out of the house, seeming to have forgotten what Carla had told her. "Santina….Carla, darling?" she asked absently. "What's going on?"