Anthony DeCosmo - Disintegration

The K9s' charge now included guarding the estate, two farms, and several homes around the lake. Furthermore, at any one time at least four bitches carried pups. Therein lay some good news: as many as 100 new Grenadiers would mature to fighting age by spring.

Interestingly, the canines mated within breed lines, maintaining the unique advantages and specific roles of each pedigree. They did their part in the grand scheme. More links on more chains, Trevor supposed.

The idea of specific roles carried over to many of the humans, too. Omar's tinkering would be critical in the times ahead, but that was obvious as was the contributions from warriors such as Shepherd and Nina.

Finding 'diamonds in the rough' satisfied Trevor even more. For example, Danny Washburn could fight fine, but his lighthearted attitude provided relief from the gloom. Others, such as Sal Corso and his kitchen, found a niche beyond the battles.

Kristy Kaufman-one of Stonewall's 'officers'- insisted on wearing make up and clothing looted from the finest stores and carried a mirror to check her hair-which she did often-and her outfits always matched. This fascination with propriety and luxury did not come from vanity, but personal dignity: she refused to yield to the Apocalypse.

In the old world, Kristy worked as an Accounting Director at a bank. Trevor tapped her organizational skills to track the community in terms of their needs, residences, skills, and more. With help from Lori Brewer, Kristy managed a census of sorts.

Stone stepped away from the desk and onto the balcony. 'Indian Summer' had faded and a cold October breeze chilled his arms. He would need a jacket for the day's work. Still, the goose bumps came not from the chill but from anticipation.

He considered today a test. He knew they would never truly go forward if they did everything piecemeal therefore, multiple tasks lay on the day's agenda.

Last night, K9 patrols caught scent of hostiles near the village of Noxen to the north; some kind of pack animals. At dawn, Trevor had dispatched a war party of Rottweilers and Huskies to confront, assess, and eliminate the threat.

In addition, Omar would lead a team to the new farm for a review of essential needs including water supply issues and the possibility of rigging a solar power system there.

Each task-the K9 war party and Omar’s work force-ranked as important. However, neither matched the magnitude of the raid on the airport.

During Nina's tour of duty at a rescue station outside of Philadelphia, she heard radio chatter that an army tactical air support unit abandoned prize equipment at the Scranton/Wilkes-Barre airport. Trevor organized a strike force to reach the airport and grab any goodies.

On any other day, such a raid would be a big project. On that day, it was but one of three projects. Trevor knew that he needed to be aggressive to maintain the momentum of his mission. He knew that soon ‘survive’ must change to ‘fight’.

– An assault team mustered in the driveway. Trevor joined them after throwing a camouflage jacket over his black T-shirt and heavy gray pants.

The group chatted excitedly as they checked guns and utility belts.

Trevor had amassed a small army for the mission and they dressed the part. Jon Brewer, "Bear" Ross, and Danny Washburn wore green BDUs. Nina Forest and Jerry Shepherd dressed in their SWAT tactical outfits. Garrett "Stonewall" McAllister completed the line up in his heavy confederate coat, hat, and sword, all snatched months ago from a South Carolina museum.

As they prepared, they shared lighthearted jokes and jovial conversation, except for one person: Nina's stiff lip and narrow eyes suggested the levity grated on her. She ignored the talk and focused on strapping tight a pistol-packed rig. Nina stretched her leg and rested a foot on the tire of a Humvee as she worked the Velcro of the holster around her upper thigh.

Danny Washburn stopped in the middle of a joke about a hitchhiking nun and a truck driver. He stepped to Nina then slowly-intently-caressed his eyes over her outstretched leg.

Danny said, "Say baby, do those legs go aaalll the way up?"

"They go all the way up," she said. "All the way up your ass."

He moaned, "Ooo…hey, I’m just kiddin’ ‘round."

"ATF, right? That’s all you guys ever do, kid around. One word for you: ‘Waco.’"

That one word recalled the death of numerous ATF agents during an infamous 1993 raid.

"Why you-"

"Relax," she said without a smile in sight. "I’m just kiddin’ ‘round."

"Hey, easy does it," Trevor broke in as he rested his M4 carbine on the roof of the Humvee and tied his boot.

Danny Washburn said, "I think your friend here is looking for trouble."

"Trouble?" Trevor finished with the laces, stood, and gave Nina an inquisitive stare as if deciphering a code on her face. "No, she’s not looking for trouble."

Danny came back, "Well she’s looking for something."

The edge in Danny’s voice dulled. He liked Danny for that; things rolled off his back.

Trevor agreed, "Now that’s true."

"What’s true?" Nina asked.

"You’re looking for something," Trevor answered as he tightened his utility belt.

"Oh, I am, am I?"

"Yep," he sounded very matter-of-fact. "But you don’t know what it is. I don’t think you even realize you’re looking. Not really. Not yet."

"Oh brother. Let me guess. Am I looking for true love? Prince Charming? Do I need to go find a frog to kiss?"

Washburn quipped, "Ribbit."

"Nah," Trevor shook his head.

"Well, are you going to tell me? What am I looking for?"

"I’ll tell you," he took two steps closer and found Nina’s blue eyes with his own. For a moment-not long enough for others to notice but Trevor noticed-for a moment something else reflected in those eyes. Something greater than cold and ice. "I’ll tell you. But not now. When the time is right. When I have to."

He winked and turned away.

Her brow crinkled.

Trevor waved the K9s into the Winnebago and commanded everyone to, "Saddle up."

Washburn leaned to Jon Brewer and joked, "I know what she needs. She needs a good-"

"Whoa there," Shepherd, lurking nearby, stopped him. "It’s too early in the day for me to have to go and knock you down, son."

"Hey," Washburn held his hands aloft in a ‘no offense’ gesture. "I didn’t realize she was your honey, pops. Kind of robbing the cradle, don’t you think?"

Shepherd ignored Washburn and ducked into the Humvee.

Jon told Danny, "Honey? More like his daughter."

Jon emphasized ‘like’ but Washburn mainly heard ‘daughter’. The former ATF agent turned pale and hurried to the Suburban.

Trevor sat in the RV’s driver’s seat and started the vehicle. From there he saw a sight he had not seen in a long time: Sheila Evans walking across the mansion grounds. She strolled with an arm on Sal Corso.

Sheila forced a smile and waved to Trevor.

– The autumn sun slowly rose higher as the convoy drove through the "Back Mountain." The golden beams lacked the strength of only a month before, barely pushing the temperature above fifty degrees. A few white, puffy clouds dotted the blue sky and carried rapidly on the wings of a cold breeze.

Mixing with the clouds, a massive ‘V’ of Canadian geese-real, honest to goodness birds that belonged on Earth-headed south. Trevor wondered what sights those birds would see on their long journey. He wondered what they would find when they returned to the lake next year.

The convoy’s path followed the main thoroughfare passing shopping centers, professional offices, and cemeteries. All of the man-made scenery looked dull and bland compared to the sea of rusty red and orange erupting across the forested slopes and woodlands. The advance of fall burst like fireworks through northeastern Pennsylvania, painting a tapestry of brilliant colors that would last a few weeks until the tree branches turned barren.