Anthony DeCosmo - Disintegration

Sal toiled at the stove aided by the two teenage sisters who had served with Stonewall as medics but who spent the two weeks since the kitchen opened working with ‘Chef’ Corso.

Lori heard the sizzle and crack of frying eggs, the beat of a whisk whipping pancake batter, the clang of dishes hauled from cupboards, and the pleasing glunk-glunk-glunk of juice poured from pitcher to glass.

She smelled salty, farm-fresh bacon, the sugary scent of syrup dripping over butter patties atop fluffy pancakes, and the whiff of her own mug of fresh-brewed coffee.

The sounds and smells surrounded her like a warm blanket chasing away goose bumps and cued memories of the diner where Jon had taken her on their very first date way back when life felt new.

Lori smiled to herself, just a little, then firmly grasped the well-worn pages of the paperback. She did read the words on those pages but the novel served as a front hiding her reconnaissance mission. If her husband found out what she was up to he would berate her for giving in to her counselor’s curiosity.

She peeked at her watch: 7:28 am.

A couple of Stonewall’s folks gathered at a table sipping coffee while Evan Godfrey, the newest addition, stumbled to the counter in search of breakfast. Lori made a mental note to get to know Evan. He had been at the estate for over a week now and she still had not talked to him.

However, Evan would have to wait. Lori had hurried to the basement that morning not for him, but for Nina Forest. Well, partly for Nina Forest.

Lori had come to know that Nina arrived at the church every morning for breakfast at 7:15 a.m., give or take exactly thirty seconds.

True to form, Nina had indeed arrived fifteen minutes ago and remained in the hall sitting by her lonesome. She studied the most up-to-date ‘Hostiles Database’ binder in between fork-fulls of eggs, strips of bacon, and the occasional sip of condensed orange juice.

Lori rested the book on the tabletop and held her coffee cup in both hands.

She waited.

While Trevor Stone and Dick Stone had few things in common, they did share one trait: neither were early risers. During the first week after the church basement opened, Lori had not seen him in the place before 8:30. However, in recent days he seemed to have found a new side to himself, a side that desired an early breakfast.

Preferably by 7:30, Lori figured.

She finished a sip of java and swapped the mug for her prop: the book.

A commotion erupted around the entrance as Danny Washburn, Jon Brewer and Trevor walked in together, laughing loudly.

Lori glanced at Nina.

Forest afforded the newcomers a brief glimpse.

Then another.

Nina shook her head as if annoyed at the distraction, and then returned her attention to the 'Hostiles Database'.

The men stopped at the counter, grabbed mugs and plates, and Trevor led them to a table as far away as possible from Nina Forest’s position. Trevor hurried to a seat against the wall.

Lori’s eyebrow rose. She did not think it a coincidence that his seat afforded a good view of Nina.

Stone, usually a man of few words, was surprisingly vocal at breakfast in recent days, or so Lori observed. Now he spoke to Jon and Danny about sports, hunting, and projects in need of attention. All the talk interspersed with quips and laughter.

As for Nina, her eyes remained planted in the binder. Lori guessed a marching band could not force Nina’s eyes from those pages. She wondered, however, if Nina actually read the words printed there or if the binder had become her own prop, much like Lori’s mystery.

It took the three men ten minutes to devour their breakfasts. Jon broke away from the trio as they dispersed to visit with his wife. Lori alternated her eyes between Trevor, as he walked toward the exit stairs, and Nina as she kept her vision glued to the binder.

Jon asked, "Whatchya doing?"

Lori did not look at her husband. She watched Nina close as Trevor climbed the stairs. First one step, then two…a few more and he would be gone.

Nina Forest cast her eyes toward the stairs, catching a quick glimpse of Trevor as he left the basement. When he disappeared outside, Nina returned her attention to the binder.

"I said, what are you doing? Earth to Lori?"

"Oh, sorry honey," Lori gave him a peck on the cheek.

"So what are you doing? Reading a good mystery?"

Lori smiled, "A good mystery?"

Jon did not know why she smiled. In a way, he felt glad he did not know.

"It’s a good one," she confessed. "But I can already see where it’s going."

Mrs. Brewer sipped her coffee.

Oh yeah, can see this coming a mile away.

The one-time counselor was not the only one who noticed. That other person sat hidden away at a tiny table in the corner picking at the remains of a canned peach.

Sheila Evans lost her appetite.

12. Raid "The art of war teaches us to rely not on the likelihood of the enemy's not coming, but on our own readiness to receive him; not on the chance of his not attacking, but rather on the fact that we have made our position unassailable."

— Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Jon Brewer walked into the Command Center and reported, "We’re bringing the convoy vehicles around now."

Trevor glanced up from the papers spread on the big desk and acknowledged, "Good."

"How tough is this going to be?"

Trevor answered, "I don’t think it’s going to be hard. We hit the Cross Valley Expressway, bypass the city, get on the Interstate, and we’re at the airport. About forty minutes unless there’s stuff in our way."

Jon did an about-face and, as he left, said, "Everything will be ready in a few minutes."

Trevor returned his attention to the papers.

Not much had happened in the ten days since the raid on the warehouse. During that time, Trevor concentrated on consolidating the situation around the estate.

The Brewers, Shep, and Sheila lived in the main mansion. Sal, Danny Washburn, and Evan Godfrey stayed in the three apartments above the garage. Omar and his family occupied the A-Frame with Nina in the rooms above their garage.

The Rheimmers welcomed four of Stonewall’s followers to their farm. Better still, five more of Stonewall’s troop used supplies from an Agway warehouse to re-start another dormant farm. That meant more crops, more cattle (some found grazing aimlessly in countryside) and more hope for the growing band of survivors.

Those of Stonewall’s crew who remained at the lake took residence in a quaint cluster of homes just past the Methodist Church where Sal ran his kitchen.

Despite Omar's chain-smoking, he proved invaluable. Earlier that week, he led a scavenging party to the Environmental Sciences Department at the Penn State Lehman Campus where they secured a supply of doped N and P type silicon: essential ingredients for building solar panels. Combined with the "charge controller", batteries and "inverter" in storage at the mansion, Trevor possessed the materials for a solar power array.

A work crew cut the tops off several trees to give the estate a better view of the southern sky, the best angle for collecting solar radiation.

Still, Omar warned that the long dark days of winter neared. Therefore, traditional generators would remain the primary energy source. Unfortunately, the limited quantity of portable generators could not meet the growing demand. Some of the occupied homes around the lake relied completely on candles for lighting and fireplaces for heating.

Of course, the new homesteads-including the new farm-conspired to spread thin Trevor’s most valuable resource: the Grenadiers.

Back in early August, the estate's garrison counted more than 60 dogs of various types. Disease, accidents, and engagements claimed several K9 lives during the summer. The search for Nina Forest sacrificed another nine. Four more had been killed or mortally wounded since.