Scarlett Hopper's Arc

Chapter 30 of 33

The feed slip was still nailed by the door at first light. Scarlett read the list again over coffee. Sandbag wall along the road side. Second gate. Perches. The barn stood exposed. Any raider walking the road would see the door and know what waited inside. She set the cup down and told the others they were splitting the day. "Marcus and John on the wall," she said. "Maranda and me on the beds. We move the harvest in tonight if the wall holds." Marcus nodded once. He pulled a pencil from his overall pocket and marked the feed slip. "Sandbags first. Steel posts every eight feet. Cameras last." "Cameras?" John said. "Two spares from the store. Wired to the horn box." John shouldered a shovel. "Then we dig." Scarlett watched them walk toward the barn. Marcus carried the post spool. John carried the bags. They talked as they went, low, about depth and slope. She could not hear the words, only the rhythm of two men agreeing. She turned to the beds. Maranda was already crouched between the rows, thumbing a bean pod. "Ready," Maranda said. Scarlett knelt beside her. The wrist ached under the wrap. She used her good hand and let Maranda handle the picking. They worked down the row in silence at first. Then Maranda hummed something without a tune, and Scarlett found herself humming back. "You sleep last night?" Maranda asked. "Some." "Liar." Maranda passed her a pod. "Eat." Scarlett ate it raw. It tasted green and clean. "I keep listening for the road." "That's why the men are on the wall." At the barn, John drove a post while Marcus held it plumb. "Straighter," Marcus said. John swung. The post bit deep. "You ever build fence before the collapse?" John asked. "Fence. Decks. A porch for a widow in 4B. Cat lived in my pocket back then." "Cat?" "Tabby. Found her in a wall." Marcus paused. "Lost her the year the grid went." John set the next post. "I had a cutting from Scarlett. Kept it three years before I found her again." Marcus looked at him. "That why you stayed." "That's why." They worked through the afternoon. Sandbags stacked chest high along the road side. Steel posts braced the corners. Marcus mounted two small cameras above the gate and ran the leads back to the horn wire. He painted a small yellow flower in the bottom corner of the wall where the concrete had set. John did not ask why. By dusk the wall stood between the road and the barn door. Scarlett walked the line with her good hand on the stone. The cameras blinked. The horn box hummed. She pressed green. The house answered green. They moved the first crates of harvest in before dark. The barn was no longer a blind spot on the road. It was a held position. She hung the feed slip back on the nail and crossed the list off, one line at a time.