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    Graham and McCann were left to fend for themselves and the horses as they waited to be picked up for the last trip upriver. The hum of the barge engine faded in the distance as the sun dipped behind the mountains, leaving an atmospheric glow. The breeze off the lake wafted in more of a chill than before. “We’re staying in the cabins?” McCann asked, trying to make easy conversation as he held his rifle out, peering into the growing darkness and chewing on a twig.
    “Yep. Rotating guard, of course. They say there’s no electricity, but there is running water—God help me, I can’t figure that one out—and there are clean sheets, on real beds. We’ll sleep very well, at least for tonight. In shifts, that is.”
    “Seems kinda creepy if you ask me,” McCann said.
    Graham chuckled, “Yeah, well, I’ll take one night of comfort even if I’m creeped out a bit.”
    “I’d rather sleep in the woods. Is that weird?”
    Graham shook his head, grinning in the dark. McCann was always so serious. They needed that, but Graham was sorry that it was so. McCann never let his guard down, and unfortunately that’s what it took to survive in the world now.
    The horses whinnied inside the trailer, and one long tail slapped the side of the gate. Graham happened to be looking at the dam when the lamps suddenly flashed on, saving the dusk from the fading light. “I’ll be damned,” he said, chuckling at his own wordplay.
    “Is it on a battery?”
    “I have no idea. We couldn’t get inside. The place is locked in a steel casing, like a fort.”
    “The damn dam . . .” McCann rolled the twig between his teeth.
    “Good one.” Graham had never heard anything funny come out of McCann, so he encouraged even this simple bit of wordplay.
    Suddenly the radio in Graham’s hand came to life with Rick’s voice. “You guys okay? Over.”
    “Yeah, we’re fine. Over.”
    “We saw the lights come on. Over.”
    “Yep. A reminder of the past; someone forgot to turn them off when they left. Over.”
    “Check. We’ll be back in about forty-five. Rick out.”
    A large crane fly drifted by in the ambient light of the electric torch lamps, and as dusk turned to dark, the soft timbre of the crickets grew louder.
    “Nothing they could have done for us anyway, that far away.” McCann speculated.
    “No, you’re right,” Graham said. “It’s survival, and hope for the best; but if you have to, go down fighting.” He flashed suddenly on the wretched image of Dutch’s last minutes. These days, too, shall pass . He hoped so, for everyone’s sake.
     
    ~ ~ ~
     
    Graham turned on his flashlight at last when he heard the faint murmur of the barge engine revving louder as it came back across Diablo toward them.
    “Finally,” McCann said faintly, kicking at the ground with his boot.
    Graham knew the young man by now; his anticipation wasn’t out of fear as much as distance. McCann never let Macy out of his sight willingly, or for long. Graham understood; his own desire to be beside Tala and protect her grew stronger by the minute.
    “Let’s get going,” McCann said. “Horses out first. Pull the trailer on, then we’ll reload them.”
    In no time they were underway over the lake in the cool early night. Graham guarded the rear of the boat, rifle in hand, as the dam lights faded in the distance; he feared the beacons might be the last artificial light they might ever see, and he wanted the image burned into his memory. He knew that the creation of memories couldn’t be a conscious effort, but still he tried.

Chapter 8 A New Home
     
    “We separated into cabins. I gave you guys one of the larger ones with the extra bedrooms,” Clarisse said with a tired smile. The day had been long, and they were all sweaty and tired despite the cool breeze. “The beds are made—with sheets and everything!” she said with wide-eyed surprise.
    “Thanks. Which one are we in?” Graham asked, picking up on her enthusiasm.
    “Number