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growing long as the sun was setting in the west. He didn’t plan on sleeping in the house and didn’t know where she’d want to be.
    The answer to that question came in with her.
    Tess walked in with a shovel and said, “I’m sleeping in here but not until you bury your family.”
    He looked at her and raised his brow.
    “Here,” she said, her arm outstretched with the shovel in hand.
    “My arm is hurt, remember.”
    “Your arm is not broken, just a flesh wound. Now come on.”
    He looked at her and asked, “Are you serious?”
    “Time for you to stop being a pussy and do what’s right.”
    He neglected to tell her one of the main reasons he chose not to bury them. By doing so, by handling the dead, he somehow acknowledged the reality of all the death, especially Cassidy’s.
    “Why do you care? I thought you were leaving tomorrow anyway.”
    She unzipped the leather jacket and held the right side open.
    His eyes widened when he saw the bloodstain on the white T-shirt that was sticking out from underneath the tactical body armor she was wearing.
    “Oh my God, are you okay?”
    “Yeah, I’ll live.”
    “Were you shot?”
    “Yes, but I bandaged it nicely after I took care of you. It stings more than anything. I just want a place to lay low for a day or so.”
    He looked at the shovel and stood up. Taking it by the handle, he said, “Let’s go find a place to do this.”
     
    Tess was busy tamping down the freshly dug earth on the graves of Tom and his family.
    As she diligently finished, Devin laid some of the kids’ toys at the heads of the graves, a large stuffed rabbit for the girl and a large yellow Tonka truck for the boy .
    When the two of them had completely finished, they looked at the mounds, then at each other.
    “Do you want to say something?” she asked.
    Devin felt put on the spot, but it only seemed right to say something. “Sure.” He clasped his hands together and lowered his head.
    She followed suit.
    “Tom, I didn’t get to see you much after our childhood, but I could tell you were a good man, a good father and a good husband. I’m sorry that this happened and that you thought that what you did was your only choice. I only wish I had arrived sooner, maybe then we could have thought of a different solution. Either way, your life and your beautiful family’s will be remembered by me. Amen.”
    Tess lifted her head and watched Devin finish his prayer. She was impressed by what he had said and thought it was heartfelt.
    “I hope that was good,” Devin sheepishly said.
    “It was beautiful.”
     
    FEMA Camp 13, Region VIII, Fifty Miles East of Denver International Airport
    The admin building was one of a group of semi permanent structures. Access to them was heavily guarded behind a web of concertina wire, sand bags and Jersey barriers.
    When Lori saw how reinforced and protected the admin and camp staff structures were from day one, it made her think that something wasn’t right, but she quickly dismissed it.
    Vasquez escorted her through the thick layer of protection till she arrived at her destination, the camp reassignment director’s office.
    “Wait here. Don’t go anywhere, you understand,” Vasquez snorted.
    She looked at him with contempt.
    Vasquez was a tough nut to crack. Many in Quadrant 4 thought him arrogant and cruel. It wasn’t that he displayed hatred or even mistreated people; it’s just that he lacked any warmth and seemed to detest his position and those at the camp.
    He walked off and disappeared down the corridor.
    Lori looked around the dull waiting area. The room lacked any color or adornment; just a flat gray paint covered the paneled walls. The white drop-down ceiling and yellow glow of the halogen lights didn’t help the overall dread the room gave off, adding to her nervous anticipation.
    A door opened beside her and out stepped a woman.
    “Lori Roberts?”
    “Yes.”
    “Hi, I’m Yvonne Foley, Camp 13 reassignment director.”
    “Hi,” Lori