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plan? I mean, exactly.”
    “What, did that bump on your head rattle you up a little too much?” Benson replied as Cat stayed behind as a silent witness. She learned a long time ago with her parents that staying quiet and out of the line of sight is the best way to learn what is really going on.
    “Yeah, it did actually, and most things seem to be more of a blur than anything else—not to mention the headache that comes with it.”
    “You should still be in bed, you know,” Benson said, to which she waved off dismissively. “The whole day and night yesterday seems like a blur to me. The only plan I had was to find a place to hole up and get some fighters together. That has obviously morphed into much more.”
    “I know, but how much more can we do? And I think we have to have a meeting, but who should we have come?”
    “I think we should try to get reps from all of the groups here so that we can best understand what we can do and who is willing to go through it with us. No more than ten though, I would think,” Benson replied.
    “Then we have to tell everyone and give them some options in case they don’t want in and wish to go it alone.”
    “Options? You’re either in or you’re out; those are your options.”
    “Rather shortsighted on that one, Art, but we’ll discuss that at the meeting. You get five and I’ll get five and we’ll meet in one hour. Cat here is going to represent the youth faction for me.”
    “Hi Cat, I didn’t see you there,” Benson said to his coworker’s daughter, who was well known around the shooting range. “Shortsighted? How?”
    “To quote a long-dead king, ‘A kingdom with only internal eyes never will see what is coming.’ We need people on the outside too. To cast them out without a contingency for their well-being will only turn them into criminals. Also, after last night, they earned some consideration,” Lisa said, and reflected upon how desperate their situation had been up until the loaders and skiddies showed up. “Oh, and Cat is going to need a .308 and some good ammo; she is going to give some sniper support from the walls.”
    “Not a problem. See you in an hour,” he said with a smirk as she walked away with Cat by her side.
    “Did I come off as being in charge back there?” Lisa asked when they were far enough away.
    “Uh … yeah; aren’t you?”
    “No, we’re a team; equals … co-conspirators.”
    “Right, except you have the balls.”
    “Well, aren’t you just the little fucking shit?”
    “You do have a potty mouth,” Cat said, and was suddenly interrupted by her cell phone ringing.
    ****
     
    Charlie watched his dad as he slept with a mixture of emotions on his face. There was hate and loathing. There had always been loathing, as it is with most teenagers, dreading the next time they see a parent and hear their useless questions. The hate came from what his dad forced him to do at the house yesterday.
    “It’s for your own good, Charlie,” his dad told him. “You have to learn to kill these things. Even if it’s me, you will have to be able to pull the trigger; your life depends on it.” Dean’s tone left no doubts as to how serious he was. He handed Charlie the knife, that had been reduced to scraper, from the tool drawer and pointed toward his mother still pinned to the floor with Shaaka through her foot.
    Charlie shook his head back and forth, not believing he could do it, but his father insisted, saying it was the perfect opportunity for him to break the ice. That this one act would turn a switch inside his head that would enable him to survive. Even Lester, who had always liked Mom, was in on it and encouraged Charlie to do it. They kept saying pull the trigger, you gotta pull the trigger , but all they gave him was a knife. An old battered knife whose point had become more rounded with time than it was sharp.
    Charlie had had enough; he couldn’t stand it anymore. It wasn’t like he would actually be killing his