Ed looked at Dyson, who shrugged, and then at Karen. ‘Going back to Washington doesn’t make any kind of sense,’ he insisted. ‘The whole city is practically under siege, the way they’re telling it on the news. Right now, we need to get ourselves somewhere with a good climate, fertile soil, in case we have to resettle and start growing our food again from scratch; and somewhere that’s close to the ocean and the border. Sure, I want to go to Los Angeles for personal reasons. But it’s going to be safer, too, to stay in the West. I’d stay right here in Kansas if I could – but it’s dry, and the winters can be hard, and from what’s going on outside, I’d guess that we can expect raiding and looting parties for a long time to come.’

‘Do you seriously think that California’s going to be any better?’ asked Shearson. ‘Los Angeles is burning, San Francisco has turned into a latter-day Sodom, with plenty of Gomorrah thrown in; San Diego’s become a looters’ paradise.’

From outside, there was a crackle of heavy, sustained shooting. They heard upstairs windows break, and the sound of running feet. Dyson Kane went to the window again just as one of Ed’s farmhands came into the room, carrying a shotgun that was still smoking, his face bright with sweat and excitement.

‘Mr Hardesty, sir,’ he said, breathlessly. ‘It don’t look like we can keep ’em back much longer. Jerry’s been hit in the arm, sir, and the rest of the boys ain’t really up to gun-fighting.’

‘All right,’ said Ed. ‘We’ve wasted enough time as it is. Dyson – can you get those vehicles loaded up, and parked in a line, ready to roll? Mr Kaiser – Karen – you want to get out there and help?’

‘I’m not doing anything until we’ve settled which direction we’re heading,’ said Peter, folding his arms.

Ed turned to Shearson. The senator gave him a fat, condescending smile ‘The same goes for me, Mr Hardesty; and you know darn well that if I stay, and Mr Kaiser stays, then it’s your fancy-woman’s bounden duty to stay too.’

There was more shooting outside, and a child screamed. Ed snapped at Dyson, ‘Get moving. I want those wagons loaded up before it’s too late.’ Then, without hesitation, he tugged his Colt automatic out of his belt and held it up in front of everybody in the room as if he were demonstrating it to a group of benighted natives.