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ragtag group assembled behind my father. They were dressed in clothes not much better than those worn by the Isolationists in the community, but they sure were dirtier. It had been a long time since these people had been out of the woods. Men and women of various ages, guns held tightly, looking to my father as he spoke. Their bodies held straight with attention like they were an army listening to a commander.
    It just so happened their commander was my father.
    This was the resistance.
    Lockwood walked over to us. “Your father is getting creepier by the day,” he whispered.
    “I’m assuming the package is still secure?” my father asked a man not much younger than himself. He was a beanpole of a guy, standing a good foot above my father. But the way he bowed his head and slumped his shoulders, not in some show of disrespect but more as a reaction to my father’s show of dominance, it became clear who was in charge.
    “Yes, sir. Safe and secure,” he answered.
    “Good. Take yourself and two others and make sure it stays that way. Without it, we have nothing.”
    Beanpole Guy nodded and walked back to the group. As he left my father’s side, a female soldier moved forward. I walked closer to where my father stood, afraid that I would miss something, some clue or signal as to why he was back. Why he was acting so cold.
    “Pardon me, sir, but I was wondering if you knew what happened to Harvey? Was she successful in her mission?” asked the young woman. She couldn’t have been much older than me. Her muscles were tight, and her black hair was pulled back in a controlled ponytail. Her arms were crossed behind her back as her eyes stared straight ahead. Where the other man had seemed to cower before my father, this woman was holding her own.
    “She was not successful. Unfortunately, she didn’t stop the target from the rendezvous,” my father replied with a sigh.
    Unfortunately, she didn’t stop the target from the rendezvous . He was talking about the girl he had sent to stop me from meeting George.
    “You mean the lunatic who took joy in sticking a knife in your daughter’s abdomen? You don’t mean you sent her, do you?” Henry charged.
    “I never told her to hurt—” my father began.
    “Don’t you dare say a word against her! You didn’t know her,” my father’s soldier yelled, her stance of control showing that it had cracks.
    “She was a brave girl who died for the greater good. We’re all proud of her,” my father said as he placed a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder.
    The girl nodded, her chin trembling with emotion. My father tapped her under the chin. “Head up, Stephanie. Harvey wouldn’t have wanted you to waste your tears. She’d want you to fight on.”
    Stephanie swallowed and nodded again. “Yes, sir. What’s next?”
    “We will be escorting these people back to their camp. Once there, we’ll gather supplies and men. Then, phase two.”
    “What’s phase two?” I asked.
    “Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” my father replied, reaching forward and giving my shoulder a small squeeze.
    “I can be useful,” I argued, not liking the idea of being brushed off. I had survived a great many things. I was a fighter.
    “Of course you are, Tessie. But right now I need you to look after your sister.”
    My father turned to face our group. Robert held tightly onto Louisa. Lockwood and Henry flanked my side. Eric, sullen and quiet the days after his fight with my father, stood in the back, glaring at the army assembled before us. Our army was smaller, less organized, but it felt like an army all the same. Despite sharing natural status with my father’s people, I suddenly felt like we weren’t fighting on the same side.
    “Set up camp here. We move out in the morning. Our goal is to reach the community by nightfall tomorrow,” my father clipped. Loud. Clear. No room for argument.
    I blew air out from between my clenched teeth, spun on my heels, and headed deeper