“That’s up to them. If they sail by, they sail by. If they stop, here at the boat launch is pretty much their only option. In that case, we have a chat.” Victoria imagined that in the before times, everything from bass boats to rowboats to houseboats lined up for their turn to launch from the concrete ramp that sloped from the street to the water’s edge.

“Suppose they unload before getting to the launch?” Simmons asked. The way things shook out in this unelected management structure, George Simmons and Joey Abbott were both part of the unofficial government.

“There’s really nowhere else for them to go,” Joey said. “I guess they could pile out into the trees along the riverbank, but why would they?”

“Because they mean to do us harm,” Simmons said.

“If that’s what they do, then we’ll know,” McCrea said. He’d only recently abandoned his Army uniform in favor of a hybrid of camouflaged uniform pants with a warm plaid flannel shirt.

“I don’t like not having a plan,” Copley said.

“We do have a plan,” Victoria said. “People know where to go and to keep an eye on what’s happening.”

“That’s more a standing procedure than a plan, Vick,” McCrea said.

“Call it what you like,” Victoria said. “We’ve got good people in this town. Smart people. And they will do what’s necessary to defend it. If I didn’t feel that way, I wouldn’t be here. I certainly wouldn’t put Luke and Caleb in harm’s way.”

“I worry about overreacting,” McCrea said. “With everybody spun up since the last attack, I worry about somebody on our team picking a fight unnecessarily.”

“We trained ’em,” Copley said. “I thought they did pretty good.” Victoria guessed him to be in his midthirties, and he looked like he’d been born to wear a uniform. Built like a weight lifter, he was a zero-bullshit straight shooter, and perhaps her boys’ best friend in town.

“I see them!” someone yelled from one of the surrounding buildings.

Victoria admired the simplicity of McCrea’s action plan. Not knowing what might come, he’d settled on a one-size-fits-all strategy. Whether the threat was coming from the road or from the water, Victoria and McCrea would serve as a greeting party. If all worked out peacefully, newcomers would never know that crosshairs had been settled on their brainpans. If things went other than peacefully, the attackers would be caught off guard by the number of hidden fighters facing them.