Cate tried to remember if Maureen had been one of the throng of neighbors in her dining room that afternoon. She didn't remember seeing her if she had been.
"My goodness, everyone heard about it. Perry had some tests done at a hospital in Boise that day - "
"I hope he's all right."
"He's fine, just some stomach problems from eating too much spicy stuff and then going to bed. That man never listens to a thing I tell him. This time the doctor told him the same thing I've been saving for years, and all of a sudden it's the gospel. Makes me want to kick him sometimes, but there you go, that's a man for you." She removed a plastic sleeve of polystyrene coffee cups from the cabinet, and added it to the basket. "Now, let's get some blankets and cushions rounded up. We can take the dining room chairs down, give people a place to sit, but I'll let the guys bring them down. Why would those two men come back?"
It took Cate a moment to realize Maureen's mental train had switched tracks. "I don't know, unless they were angry that Cal got the best of them. I just don't know what they could want."
"That's the thing about mean and crazy people; unless you're mean and crazy yourself, they just don't make sense to you."
Despite everything, Cate found herself oddly comforted by the woman's cozy philosophy regarding people, life, their current circumstances, and just about everything else as she followed her around the house, gathering blankets and towels, throw pillows, seat cushions, and everything else they could carry to make things more comfortable in the basement. She remembered to stay low and cautioned Maureen to do the same, which made walking especially awkward, laden as they were, but she knew bullets could go a long way and she wasn't certain this house was completely safe.
They made multiple trips to the top of the basement stairs, handing things off to volunteers who then passed them on down.
"Good," Maureen finally said, "that just leaves the sofa cushions." She started toward the living room.
Cate's stomach twisted with sudden panic, and she grabbed
Maureen's arm. ''No. don't go in there." She was taller than Maureen, stronger, and she began pulling her toward the stairs. "The room's too exposed, and we've pushed our luck being up here this long, shining the flashlight around." She was suddenly desperate to get belowground again, her skin prickling as if she felt a bullet speeding her way, the projectile boring its way through the barrier of air and walls faster than the speed of sound, heading straight for her as if it had a mind of its own, so that no matter how she twisted and turned it followed her.
With a sharp cry she plowed into Maureen, leading with her shoulder, legs driving, and took them both down to the floor as the living room window shattered and she heard the faint whine of an angry metal hornet a split second before it tore through the wall with a thhttt! sound.
Belatedly came the flat, deep crack of rifle fire.
Maureen shrieked. "Oh, my God! Oh, my God! They shot out the window!"
"Maureen!" came Perry's panicked bellow from the basement, then the thunder of his feet on the stairs as he rushed upward.
"We're okay!" Cate veiled. "Move back, we're coming down!" Without thinking, she was on her feet with her hand clutching the back of Maureen's shirt, lifting her up and pushing her forward at the same time, terror giving her a strength she hadn't known she possessed. She all but shoved Maureen at Perry, who of course hadn't moved back, and he staggered and nearly went down but was saved by the press of people behind him, all of whom had been rushing upstairs with him. Cate hurled herself through the doorway and down several steps, where she crouched to make certain her head was below ground level. She was shaking wildly, her nerves shattered by how close that had been.
"Cate wouldn't let me go in the living room," Maureen sobbed on her husband's chest. "She saved my life, she tackled me. I don't know how she knew, but she did - "
Cate didn't know either. She sat on the step and buried her face in her cupped hands, trembling so violently her teeth chattered. She couldn't seem to stop, even when someone - Sherry, she thought - wrapped a blanket around her and gently but determinedly urged her off the stairs and settled her on a cushion on the basement floor.
Her mind went a little fuzzy after that, worn out by shock and fatigue. She listened to the hum of conversation around her without really hearing it, she watched the blue flame of the kerosene heater, she waited for the old-fashioned camp percolator they'd placed on top of the heater to start boiling and making coffee, and she waited for Cal. He should have been back already, she thought, switching her gaze to the door and willing it to open.
At least an hour later - she thought it had to be an hour, unless something had gone seriously wrong with the progression of time - the outside door finally opened and a trio of people staggered in. She saw a head of shaggy, dark blond hair, a face pinched and blue with cold; she saw Mr. Creed, his arms thrown around Cal's and Neenah's shoulders -
Cate threw her blanket off and leaped forward, joining all the others who reached out to stop the three from hitting the floor. There was a confusion of exclamations and questions as Mr. Creed's weight was taken from Cal and Neenah and he was lowered to some cushions; then Cal swayed and stumbled and Cate found herself desperately gripping him, wedging her shoulder into his armpit and trying to hold him up.
"Joshua's shot," Neenah gasped, sinking to her knees and sucking in huge gulps of air. "And Cal's freezing; he's been in the water."
"Let's get him out of these wet clothes," said Walter, easing Cal away from Cate. Living where they did, they all knew how to treat hypothermia. Within seconds someone was holding up a blanket in front of Cal while he managed, with aid, to strip out of his freezing wet clothes. He was roughly dried, to which he made no protest; then a warmed blanket was wrapped around him and he was seated beside the heater. At some point the percolator had started perking, so Cate put some sugar in one of the polystyrene cups and poured coffee over it. The coffee was still a little weak, but it was hot and it was coffee, and it would have to do.