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couple of hands raised as people volunteered to help.“All right. That’s decided. As for the rest of you, get some rest. Report to the armory at three to get your kit. You’ll be given instructions then.”

With that, the meeting was closed, and people hurried off to do their jobs. The last to leave, Lisa wondered what part she’d play in the struggle to come. It didn’t matter, though.

Win or lose, a few people are gonna be sorry they ever saw my face tonight, she decided.

Chapter 18 - Julianne

Julianne fled the meeting with tears burning to be shed. She bit on her fist to keep the sobs from escaping her lips and mumbled excuses to everyone in her path. Her legs sped up to a sprint toward the cottage she shared with Breytenbach, Megan, and Sam.

She burst inside and paused, heaving for breath. It was just as she’d left it. As he’d left it. The bed they shared at night, safe in each other’s arms. His spare boots and clothes in the cupboard next to hers, the book of poetry he liked her to read aloud at night, and the reading glasses he wore when no one saw.

She fell onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow, breathing in his scent. Alone, at last, she let go of the fears that had kept her up the previous night. The terror that crept into her heart whenever she thought of never seeing Breytenbach again. “Christo, where are you?”

The room had no answers for her.

Unhampered by the need to appear strong, Julianne allowed herself to cry until she had no more tears left. Finally, the shaking stopped and the floodgates closed. When she was reduced to a few sniffles, she sat upright and stared at her hands.

They weren’t a lady’s hands anymore. Not like they used to be. The nails were chipped and broken, devoid of polish or shine. Calluses from wielding a pitchfork and shovel lined her palms. The skin was rough and weathered.

On impulse, she went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. She hadn’t done so in a while. The sight was startling. Despite her puffy eyed appearance, her skin was smooth and tanned. Laughter lines winged from her eyes to her temples while grey streaks mingled with the blonde in her hair. She looked older, yet younger. Harder, yet happier.

I’m not a lady anymore, not manicured or pedicured or tweezed to perfection. I’m a woman now. A fighter. A worker. “Just like my hands.”

Julianne turned and walked to the second bedroom. Here she lingered, taking in the sight of Samantha’s crib and Megan’s single bed, both littered with stuffed toys and colored blocks.

Whether Breytenbach came back or not, she still had the children. Always had Sam and Megan to look after. She could not afford to break down and lose hope. Not now. “They need me, and Christo would expect me to look after them.”

With the decision to fight for her freedom and that of her children made, Julianne got ready for the ordeal to come. She washed her face and tied her hair into a tight bun then slipped on a pair of cargo pants made of sturdy material. Comfortable boots, a tank top, and a zipper jacket completed the ensemble.

Into her pockets, she slipped a flashlight, pocket knife, protein bar, and a bottle of water. Onto her belt, she looped the holster containing her pistol, a combat knife, and a length of sharpened steel with a leather handle made especially for her by Christo. It was her weapon of choice and very effective against infected. How well it would stand up against the living was a different story.

With a final look of farewell, she closed the door behind her and jogged to the infirmary. There she encountered Hannah and Dave laying out medical supplies and readying beds. Jonathan and Dr. Lange attended to the still unconscious Lonny, disinfecting his wounds.“Do you need any help?”

Hannah shot her a gentle smile and shook her head. “No, we’re all right, Julianne. Joseph is on his way to fortify the windows and doors. Other than that, we have everything in hand.”

“Are you armed?”

“No, we’re not.”

“You should be, just in case. I’ll get Max to send over a couple of guns with some ammunition.”

“Thank you.”

With the infirmary ticked off her to-do list, Julianne made her way to the main building where Elise was putting away the last of their food and water supplies. Everything except for a full trolley that stood ready to go.

“Is this for the wall?” she asked.

Elise nodded. “I’m closing up here and taking it there now. Ideally, I want supplies stashed at regular intervals all along the inner walls. Who knows how long this fight will last?”

“True. Want some company?”

“Actually, would you mind checking on the children? I know they’re safe but…”

“I get it, no need to explain. I was gonna go there just now anyway,” Julianne replied. “See you on the wall?”

“On the wall,” Elise affirmed.

Julianne made her way to the schoolroom. Joseph had already been there, and she was gratified to see the windows had been boarded up and the door reinforced with thick steel.

Inside was a scene of domestic tranquility. Meghan, Anne, and Jenny played dress-up in the corner while Mark pushed around a plastic firetruck. Sam chewed on a colored wooden block with Ruby hovering over her like a mother hen. In a crib slept Henriette and Thabo, while Buzz and Princess dozed on a blanket in a corner.

Overseeing the room, was Michelle, Erica, and Tumi. A crate of food and water stood in the corner, and the building had its own compost toilet. Each of them was armed with both a gun and a knife which was a comfort to Julianne. They were as safe as could be expected.

Meghan squealed when she saw her mother and ran over. “Mommy, Mommy!”

“Hi, sweetie. How’s it going?”

“We’re playing Princesses and Mermaids. I’m the Princess of course,” Meghan said with

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