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got him to brooding about protecting his family on their trip. He still didn’t know how to use either the gun he’d already gotten or anything else in the safe and really didn’t have any way of learning without everyone knowing what he was doing. It was the most emasculating, pathetic feeling in the world to feel like you couldn’t protect your family. Forget the fact that Rissa could do it, that wasn’t the point. The point was that he couldn’t .
    If something happened to her, then they were all as good as dead. She had to sleep sometime and they were supposed to be a team , help-meets, and each other’s better halves. She would protect him, but he couldn’t return the favor or protect the kids. He would try, heaven knows he would probably even die doing so if that’s what it took, but it shouldn’t have to come to that. It was just so depressing.
    There, Dan thought, now you look like everyone else. Beaten, broken, worn out, and scared to death. He shook his head and rode the rest of the way home trying not to think any more about the trip for at least a few minutes.
    …
    Marissa had spent the day packing. It had started with getting things organized to make the move downstairs and as far as the girls knew that’s all that was going on. Eventually she found herself making piles of clothing or blankets or various items that would be making the trip and setting them aside to be folded and packed into plastic bags and backpacks. She was finally making some headway when there was a knock on the front door.
    “Please don’t be another thinly-veiled attempt at a search party,” Marissa muttered under her breath as she set aside what she was sorting in the living room and went to the door.
    It either wasn’t a search party, or Carey was conducting this one on his own, and she’d be damned if he was coming into the house while she was home alone. Marissa opened the door but didn’t invite him in. “Morning, Carey, what can I do for you?”
    “I’m looking for Dan, he was going to make some rounds today and I wondered if he could start a little early.” Carey explained, stealing a glance into the house. “One of the boys is complaining about his arm again and I figured I’d come and see if he was here.”
    Marissa didn’t bother trying to hide anything because it wouldn’t do any good and she had a perfectly good explanation for the sorting going on behind her. “He isn’t here right now. He’s been going stir crazy for the last couple of weeks with the same old routine and just had to get out of the house. He took the bike and went for a ride. He said he wouldn’t go too far and I made him promise not to work too hard because none of us are able to get that much to eat, you included, Mr.” she pointed at Carey to indicate that she wasn’t implying that he was skimming off the top—whether he was or not.
    Marissa went on, “He did say he’d be back in time for rounds, though. That’s one responsibility he takes very seriously, you know that.”
    Carey nodded his head. “That I do, and I appreciate it.” Carey glanced over her shoulder at the ‘mess’ in the living room again and asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, what have you got going on in there?”
    I knew it, Marissa thought, glad we have a reason for it. “We’re moving everything downstairs because it’s just too much work to keep going back and forth, up and down, all day long.” Marissa said. “I’m sorting everything to determine what we need to keep where before we move the mattresses down here. We don’t have room for all the clothes and everything so I need to sort it all first. It’ll be a little bit more work at first but it’s going to save a lot of energy in the long run.”
    “Good idea, maybe we should all think about doing that. With rations so short every little bit helps.”
    “That’s what Dan and I figured.” Marissa said.
    “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. If Dan gets home sooner rather than