Derek’s breathing long since eased into light snores, signaling his deep slumber. Marie and Phil were relaxing, each engrossed in their interfaces, both enjoying some peace in the chaotic world.

Phil leaned forward, lowering his voice to a hushed tone, ensuring Derek was deeply asleep. “That was terrifying, wasn’t it?” He glanced at Marie for validation. “Derek, I mean. His way of fighting... it was like nothing I’ve seen before. The callousness with which he took down those creatures. And that smile of his, right before the troll hit him. Did you catch that?”

Marie shifted her gaze briefly to Derek, a fleeting image from her vision crossing her mind. Derek’s face cast in a darker, almost demonic light. She quickly refocused, her reply carrying a hint of unease. “Yes, I saw it,” she responded, her voice a mixture of concern and thoughtfulness. “It’s a side of him I hadn’t witnessed before. Frightening, definitely, but beneath that, he’s still the Derek we know. When he was flung across the yard, I feared the worst.”

“What level is he?”

Their conversation was interrupted by the distinct rumble of an engine. Marie turned her head towards the driveway, where a black Dodge truck was pulling in, its cargo trailer in tow. The truck’s slow approach, unsure if they were at the right place. The driver slowed to a stop right inside the driveway, seemingly surveying the decomposing remnants of the battle strewn across the lawn.

“Yeah, hello?” Phil’s voice shifted to a more hushed tone, mindful of Derek’s rest. “Are you in a black truck staring at a bunch of decomposing bodies? Yep, you’re at the right place.”

Marie, following Phil’s gaze, saw the truck and recognized the hesitation of the driver.

“Carson is here, then?” she asked, already moving towards the garage door.

Phil nodded as she passed him.

“Yeah, that’s Carson alright. He’s a good guy, though a bit rough around the edges,” Phil responded, rolling his eyes playfully.

“I’m sensing a concerning trend, Phil. A lot of your friends are assholes,” Marie said half-jokingly, her hand on the garage door handle.

Inside the house, the sudden quietness stirred Derek from his light sleep. He blinked open his eyes, a brief moment of disorientation giving way to alertness as he heard faint voices outside. Stepping into the garage, Derek joined the others, his nap having left him feeling slightly refreshed.

The Dodge truck pulled up, its engine idling momentarily before cutting off in front of the garage. The occupants paused inside, their figures shadowed against the dim glow of the cabin lights. Then the driver, a figure with broad shoulders, emerged, shutting the door with a definitive thunk. Behind him, two women stepped out, their movements cautious and deliberate, in stark contrast to the three kids who tumbled out after them with youthful energy.

“Phil!” Carson said in greeting, giving Phil a hug. “And you must be the infamous Derek.”

Derek smiled in greeting and gave the man a hug, too. “Do they give you truck nuts with those at the dealership, or are those aftermarket parts?”

The two ladies and trio of kids loosely gathered as Marie started introducing herself and welcoming them with a warm hospitality.

“Not you too!” Looking over at the two Chevys parked next to the fence, well away from the garage. “Oh, no, you’re a Chevy man. Do you buy sticks to shove up your ass or do they do that for you at the dealership?”

Derek laughed heartily. “Welcome! Welcome! Who’s this you brought with you?”

“This is my family,” Carson said with a hint of pride. “My wife Jenny, our kids James, Leroy, and Candice, and Jenny’s sister Janet.”

“You from the south?” Derek asked.

“Yep, born ‘n raised in Texas,” Carson replied, his accent subtly surfacing. “And you?”

Derek grimaced. “Northern California.”

Carson let out a hearty laugh. “Well, I won’t hold that against ya. Good thing you left before an earthquake made it fall off the map, huh?”

Stolen novel; please report.

“I’m Marie, from Mexico. Please ignore my idiot husband. Welcome to our home. We have plenty of room and beds for you, but you boys are going to have to bunk together.” Marie greeted warmly, giving Jenny and Janet a warm hug. “Are you hungry?”

“No, thank you. We already ate, but I think we could use some juice.”

Marie escorted them inside, leaving the men outside in the garage.

“Oh Derek, I have an ice chest in my car. If you can help me.”

“Sure, as long as it’s not that garbage chicken sausage you eat.”

“I knew it!” Carson exclaimed. “Yuppie food, huh? Typical.”

Derek chuckled. “Bacon’s the only true way. Anything else is just heresy.”

Phil shook his head, amused. “You two are cut from the same cloth. Rednecks through and through.”

Derek lifted the Styrofoam container out of the car. “Fridge or freezer.”

“Put it in your fridge in the garage. I would hate for my chicken sausage to contaminate your lordly bacon.”

“Nooo!” Derek cried in mock horror. “That’s where I keep the beer! It’s all going to turn into IPA!”

“Not the beer!” Carson crowed in agreement.

Carson, taking a lingering look at the yard strewn with battle remnants, finally commenting on the elephant in the room. “So, the bodies,”

“They attacked the house, and we had to put the lot of them down.” Derek finally answered with the humor died out.

“With what explosives?”

Derek summoned his rock bar from his bracelet. Carson jumped when it appeared.

“With this,” Derek said, spinning the bar once, being sure not to hit anything.

“No way.” Carson said, holding his hand out for it. “You did that with a pry bar.”

Phil handed Carson his phone. Carson idly handed the bar back to Derek, who put it away. The video was taken by a neighbor. It played all the way through, but Carson handed the phone back after only a few minutes.

“Dude, if this is real, Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee got nuthin’ on you.” Carson said in moderate disbelief. “So, what’s the game here?”

“What game?” Derek asked, feeling uneasy.

“You look like you walked out of an Olympic body building competition and use a demolition bar as a staff. Nobody trains that anymore. Look at this place. That’s a blacksmithing forge, anvil, a welder. There is enough paint in this garage for four cars.” He pointed into the storage room where the freezers and dry foods could be seen through the open door. “I bet you have enough food in there for a year or more. Let me guess, you have several thousand rounds of ammo stashed away and have enough toilet paper to stock the shelves at Costco. Now you have invited Phil and everyone he cares about over to live at your… bunker?”

Derek sighed and pulled up a second stool, gesturing for Carson to join him. “Sit, let’s talk.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I was a prepper once, and I had lots of time and hobbies, which tended to prepare for the apocalypse. Things like that don’t just go away. I was into firearms for a couple of years, then I was into welding, which led to blacksmithing, then I was into working out, then I was into something else. I’ve been through more hobbies that I have underwear.”

Carson took a seat, raising an eyebrow but listening intently.

“But now, there’s more at stake. We’re expecting a baby, and you understand, being a dad and all. You know how it is for your first. I’m going to provide a safe world for them and I’ll go to war to make that happen.” He glanced toward the house, where Marie had led the others. “Marie needs people around her. She thrives on it. And I need her. So, this house... it’s not just a house anymore. It’s a sanctuary for as many as we can fit.”

Carson folded his arms, leaning back against a shelf. “I get your point, Derek. But what I need to know is, how do you plan to keep all of us safe, not just your own family?”

“Exhibit A.” Derek said, pointing out of the garage. “My doors are open to you and your family, Carson. I’ll see that you children are fed. I’m not trying to kick you in the nuts, but what chance did you have in your home by yourselves?”

“Fair point.” Carson said.

“Derek, don’t be a dick.” Phil chimed in.

“I knew I couldn’t do it. That’s why I risked coming here to live with a stranger.” Carson glanced towards the remnants of the battle, his expression contemplative. “So, how do we make this work? This can’t be a ‘my way or the highway relationship.’”

Derek shrugged, leaning back against the workbench. “Marie is the matriarch. I’m just a weapon.”

“Derek! You’re not a weapon!”

Derek pointed at Phil’s phone. “You saw that. What do you think I am?”

“A protector.” Phil said with firmness in his voice.

“Call it what you like,” Derek retorted bitterly.

Derek breathed deeply, then pushed out the air as if trying to release tension.

“Regardless of how you define my role. The final say is with Marie and Phil.”

Phil raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Me? Why?”

Derek leaned against the workbench, his tone matter-of-fact. “You know how I am, minimal social skills and the lack of true empathy. My emotional capacity is a solid 7.”

“You’re kidding?” Phil’s expression shifted from surprise to understanding. “You’re not kidding, well that explains some things.”

“What does that mean?” Carson asked in with a curious tone.

“It means that I’m not good leader material.” Derek said, standing up, “I can point the group in the right direction, but I can’t hold a group together. I can’t motivate. Which leaves me to rely on others for the social things. Leaving me to be the weapon.”

He clapped a hand on Phil’s shoulder, a gesture of trust and respect.

“I need to eat again.” Derek said as he closed the fridge door, beer in hand. “Phil can fill you in on anything else until everyone’s together at dinner.” With that, he made his way out of the garage. His departing footsteps resonated briefly before silence settled, leaving Phil and Carson to discuss the new dynamics of their shared future.