She sat, waited for Katie to look up.

“With the data you’ve collected, I know how many we have with medical training, with specific skills, with battle experience, with families.”

Katie folded her hands to show she listened. “You’d already collected most of that.”

“But not all, not as detailed. People talk to you. They don’t just tell you they were a surgical resident before. They also tell you they liked to garden as a hobby or paint or they have a child with an aptitude for building. They tell you what they hope for, what they’re afraid of. I’m learning from you how to see the whole, and not just the pieces I need to fit the whole.”

Katie sat back. “But they need to train.”

“It needs to start. I’ve asked my dad to take charge of this base. He has the experience. He’ll need help, others who can train, make decisions, lead.”

“Poe,” Katie said immediately, and Fallon smiled.

“I agree.”

“I know you said Maggie, and she’s a good choice. There’s Deborah Harniss. USMC. She was a JAG lawyer. She’s a shifter, and I think she’d be willing to work at one of the other bases.”

“I don’t know her, but if she comes from you, I’d like to ask her, or have you ask her.”

“I will, and I’ll have her come speak with you.”

“We need two cooks, a supply officer, a communication officer. From your list and mine, we have those inside the recruits.”

“And using people from inside and out helps them blend, take some ownership.”

Working with someone who knew how to run things helped smooth the road, Fallon thought.

“For blending, I’d like some of the recruits—experienced for now—to join your supply runs, scavenger and scouting missions. Hunting parties.”

“Give me the names, where you want them. We’ll work them into the rotation.”

“Thanks.”

Katie shook her head. “I want none of this to be necessary because I can remember a time when it wasn’t. You can’t. My children can’t. So I’m going to do everything I can to work toward a time when it won’t be necessary again. Isn’t that what you and Duncan and Tonia are doing every night? No, they didn’t tell me,” she said when Fallon’s face shuttered. “I know they’ve been gone, just like I know they’re exhausted and starving every morning. Just like I know your parents know. And they probably feel, as I do, frustrated none of you trust us enough to talk to us.”

“It’s not that. Oh, I’m so bad at this. It’s not trust. We knew you’d worry.”

“And you actually think we don’t or won’t by being kept in the dark?”

“I’m really bad at this,” Fallon repeated. “I’m sorry. Yes, we’ve been continuing what we began the night we took Arlys and Chuck. We’ve stockpiled supplies and equipment. We should be done in another week, maybe ten days. The ICBMs don’t take as much power to eliminate, but—”

“ICBMs.” Katie sighed.

“Intercontinental ballistic missiles.”

“You know, I don’t think I ever knew what that acronym stood for. I’m going to do what mothers do and give you some very direct advice. Talk to your parents.”

“I will. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to accept that on a condition. Take the night off. The three of you need to, let’s say, recharge. I know my kids, honey, and I can see it in you, too. You’re running close to empty. You need to take a break.”

She wanted to push forward, push, push until it was done. Everything felt so urgent. But she saw the logic in the R and R. “We’ll take tonight off.”

“Good. You’re forgiven.”

It wasn’t as quick and easy with her parents. She wanted to talk to them both at once, and without the boys around. Though now that she considered things, she imagined Travis had felt what they’d been doing.

She had to wait until after dinner, after chores, after Ethan, bubbling, left for his sleepover with his new best friend Max.

She eased into it, discussing first the people chosen to work with Simon, the suggestions for other bases, asking her mother to initially supervise the cooks and meals at the barracks.

Stalling, she admitted, and ashamed she hadn’t let herself see the worry in her parents’ eyes.

“I want to start off saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what Duncan, Tonia, and I have been doing. It’s my fault, all of it, because I made it a provision we keep the mission secret.”

“You put a lot of worry weight on your mom, Fallon.”

“I know it. I put more weight on by convincing myself I was doing the opposite. But—”

Lana shook her head. “Don’t qualify. Just don’t. I’ve known what you are to the world, some of what you’d face since before you were born. So has your father. We raised you, however hard it was for us, so you’d be strong and able to pick up that sword and shield. Deceiving us, keeping us out of what you do? It demeans that. It demeans us.”

Really, really bad at it, Fallon thought again. She’d get better.

“Mom. There’s no one in the world I need more than the two of you, no one I trust more, no one I love more. I’m going to make mistakes, and I know when I do they can have terrible consequences. That scares me more than anything. I should’ve told you, that’s respect. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Something cold crawled up her spine, had her shifting.

“What is it?” Lana demanded.

“I don’t know. Something … Probably guilt, but—” She looked up, saw nothing but stars and a hanging white moon.

“It might be you’re a little worn-out,” Simon suggested. “Keeping this secret, bouncing and flashing all over the country turning bombs into broken glass.” His eyes narrowed on her face. “What’d I get wrong there?”

“It’s just we’ve been alternating sites in the U.S. with sites overseas. Like, ah, Russia, Asia, Europe.”

“You’ve been to Russia?” Simon broke out in a grin.

“You flashed to Russia?” Lana’s reaction wasn’t a grin. “For God’s sake, Fallon. What if you’d lost the connection on the way, dropped into the damn ocean? What if … and this is exactly why you didn’t tell us. Exactly.”

She closed her eyes, drew in a breath. “My mistake, and I’ll try not to make it again.”

But Fallon felt that chill a second time, and something pushing, pushing to get in, to open.

“Do you feel that?” It squeezed at her heart, twisted in her belly. “Do you feel that?”

“What?” Even as Lana reached for her she sprang up from where she’d sat on the porch.

“Something’s coming.”

She heard the engine, saw the headlight. Laid a hand on the hilt of her sword. Then relaxed it again. “It’s Duncan’s bike. It’s Tonia on Duncan’s bike.”

She waited.

Something’s happened. Something’s happening. Something’s coming. Something’s here.

Tonia stopped the bike, turned it off. “Hey. Ah …”

She got off, walked to the porch. “Anyway, Duncan said he’d already talked to both of you.”

“Duncan?” Fallon repeated.

“Yeah, he tracked me down at the barracks.”

“And came to talk to me at the community kitchen. I got flowers,” Lana added. “Come up, sit down.”

“He’s such a suck-up.” Tonia offered a wan smile. “I don’t have any flowers, but I’m just as sorry as he is. Apologies, sincerely.”

“It’s my fault. I made it a condition.”

“Condition’s bull.” Tonia shrugged as she came up the porch steps. “We agreed with you. We know it, you know it. We were all wrong. And don’t try to hog my apology.”

“Let’s call it a clean slate.” Simon glanced at Fallon and his easy smile slipped away. “You okay, baby?”