“What I meant is it has to be the right fight for the right reason and at the right time,” Tom said. “You’ve gathered children, some by force and others not. You’ve told yourselves that it’s for their benefit. But a prison is not a home. Hanging on to these children serves no other purpose now but yours. They have the right to their lives. Please.” Tom looked at Jarvis and then the other men in turn. “Let Jayden and Chris take them someplace safer.”
“No place is truly safe,” Yeager said.
“But it will be better than here,” Chris said. “We’re asking for enough supplies and wagons to get the kids north, that’s all. Say, four days, five.”
“That’ll clean us out,” Jarvis said. “All we’ll have will be a couple sticks of Juicy Fruit.”
“If that’s true, then you’re already done,” Tom said. “You’ve got too many mouths and not enough resources. If you can even find seed to plant, it’ll be months before a harvest. Read some history. This is the Starving Time in Jamestown. The only thing you haven’t done yet is eat your dead.”
Jarvis was stony. “It would never come to that.”
“No one thought the world would end either,” Kincaid said. “Jarvis, for God’s sake . . .”
“Kincaid, I can’t just decide. We got to put this to a vote. Get the village together . . .”
“You can’t,” Tom said. “You don’t have that kind of time, and people will discuss this to death. They’ll panic, and you don’t have the manpower to control a mob scene. Once it’s done and comes down to a very simple choice—leave or stay—you’ll have a much better chance of keeping people calm and maybe saving a few more lives. If I’m right, Finn is a half day behind me, but maybe a lot less. He’s got the full moon working for him, too, which means he can move in and be ready to storm this place by dawn.”
“Lenten Moon,” Yeager put in. “The last full moon of winter. Appropriate, given our situation.” The sun will be turned to darkness, and the moon to blood. He lifted his hands in apology. “Joel. Also apt, considering the earthquake. The boy is right, Jarvis. You wanted a seat on the Council? Well, you are the Council now. Make a decision and beg for forgiveness later, but for our Lord’s sake, make the right one.”
“My God.” Jarvis stared down at the table for a long moment, then nodded at something he saw there and looked up at Chris. “I heard what you said about the adults, but take Kincaid.”
The doctor stirred. “Jarvis, I’m not asking for—”
“The kids will need him. He’s probably the only adult here you can really trust.” Jarvis’s eyes shifted to Jayden. “He’s taken good care of your sick before, and he’s damned stubborn when it counts.”
Privately, Chris had hoped they might convince Kincaid. Now he and Jayden looked at each other, and then Jayden turned to Kincaid. “Would you come?” Jayden asked. “We’d like that.”
“I—” Kincaid’s throat clicked in a dry swallow, and then he nodded. “Got to take care of a couple things, but . . . okay.”
“Then you need to get moving,” Tom said. “Pack up the children, get your supplies together, and get out now. There’s barely enough time as it is.”
“And what do we do once you’re gone?” Jarvis asked.
“I’m not leaving,” Tom said. “Not yet.”
“What?” Chris heard the word drop out of his mouth. Beside him, Jayden said, “Tom, you can’t—”
“Yes, I can,” Tom said, still looking at Jarvis. “You have your kids, and Finn’s got mine. I can’t leave, not while there’s still a chance I can do something to help them.”
“Finn wouldn’t bring them,” Chris said.
“Not in the front lines. Chances are they’re in the rear, three, four miles back. There won’t be another or better opportunity to get them. Just have to keep Finn focused on Rule.”
“So how do we do that?” Jarvis asked. “Scream and run around like chickens?”
“No. Finn’s coming from the south. You have to mount a defense or put up a barricade . . . maybe an abatis . . .”
“What?”
“Trees. Cut them down so all the limbs face the enemy. Not only will your people have cover, but it will be much harder for Finn’s men to get through. They’ll have to go around. An obstacle like that will also keep him looking at Rule, not his rear.”
Jarvis glanced at the other men, who nodded. “We can do that for you,” Jarvis said.
“Good. Then pick your men, Jarvis, the ones you can count on not to run at the first shot,” Tom said, “and buy me some time to get my kids.”
105
The secret about what they were doing and who was coming Rule’s way kept until about three a.m., just long enough for Chris and his people to retrieve the needed supplies and start packing up the kids, who were now gathered at the hospice. To Tom’s surprise, only fifty or so oldsters, most of them refugees in Rule to begin with, elected to take a share of what supplies remained and get out of town. Of the roughly one hundred and fifty elderly remaining, Jarvis had chosen ten to man an abatis from trees they’d felled and then hastily arranged to guard the southern road, the most direct approach from the mine, which cut through rolling, sparsely forested countryside.
“I got a couple other men working on trees to barricade the north road out of town once the children are gone. Everyone else wants to wait in the church,” Jarvis said to Tom, who’d visited the defunct school for a few, very special items before heading into the church’s bell tower. “At least until Finn’s in the village.”
“Wait? What for? You can’t be serious.” Tom was horrified. “Jarvis, you need to make people leave. They’ll be sitting ducks. They should get out of Rule. This isn’t Judgment Day. This isn’t Jonestown. For God’s sake, no one’s asking you to drink Kool-Aid. They’ll kill you.”
“But the Rev’s right: no place is truly safe.” Jarvis’s eyes were so far back in his skull, you needed a flashlight to see them. “It comforts us to gather; I can’t take that away. Besides, our grandchildren are finally coming home and . . .” His voice thickened. “They’re our responsibility, always were. If my grandson’s with Finn, I need to know he’s at peace.” No amount of argument changed the old man’s mind, or anyone else’s, and Tom finally gave up.