Page 80 of What Remains

Seth folded his arms. "We stay mobile. No unnecessary risks. If we see a large group of infected, we leave. No hesitation, no heroics."

"And if we see people?" Jay asked.

Liz answered before anyone else could, her voice flat and certain. "You assume they're hostile until they prove otherwise."

The words hung in the room. Josie looked at Jay's tight jaw, at the way Cara stared into her empty mug. None of them argued. Months ago, Liz's advice would have sounded cruel. Now, it was just the truth.

Cara finally broke the silence, her voice small. "I hate that."

Liz offered her a sad smile, gentler than anything she'd shown all evening. "So do I." She looked around the table at every face gathered there, at these people who had somehow become something like family.

Chapter 18

Ranch Dinner Revival

The aroma of dinner reached every corner of the house. Goat stew simmered in the cast-iron Dutch oven their mother had used for as long as Josie could remember. Potatoes, carrots, onions, herbs dried from last summer's garden, and thick chunks of meat had melted together into a richness that made every stomach at the table growl.

Liz carried the heavy pot to the table. "I hope nobody's picky."

Jay grinned. "At this point, I'd eat my boots if you seasoned them."

"He's kidding," Cara laughed.

"I absolutely am not."

Liz ladled steaming bowls around the table. "Fortunately for all of us, goat beats leather."

Layla took one bite, her eyes widening. "This is really good!"

Liz smiled. "I'll take that as the highest compliment."

Josie smiled over the rim of her bowl. "I could never make it taste like this."

"Mom always said the secret ingredient was butter," Liz offered.

"There has to be more to it."

Liz shrugged. "Love."

For a little while, conversation drifted to lighter topics. Jay asked about the horses. Cara wanted to know if the greenhouse could still be used. Layla proudly informed everyone that her bare thought the goats smelled funny.

Even Seth smiled. He didn't say much, but Josie caught his gaze lingering on the table more than once—on what looked so much like a family—on something she suspected he was mourning, too. Each time their eyes met, a current passed between them before they both looked away, a charge that lingered a little longer each time.

When dinner ended, no one hurried off. Liz brewed coffee while Cara insisted on washing dishes over her protests. Jay wandered into the living room to inspect the woodstove. Seth carried in another armload of split oak and banked the fire for the night.

Outside, wind howled across the open fields, rattling windows and skimming snow across the yard. Inside, the old house settled around them with familiar creaks and groans, holding the warmth within its walls.

Eventually, Jay unfolded the county map across the coffee table one last time. "We should work out watches."

"I'll take first," Liz said, glancing toward the front window. "I know every shadow on this ranch."

Jay spoke up. "Cara and I will split second watch. We've done it enough times."

Seth leaned back in his chair. "Third's mine."

That left one stretch before sunrise. Josie looked around the room. "I'll finish."

Jay hesitated. "You sure?"