“Heyheyhey,” called a rough voice gouged away by what sounded like decades of heavy smoking, “get the fuck out.” A head popped out of one of the bedraggled tents nestled behind a crumbling rock wall at the base of the overpass. The person climbed out of the tent, holding a baseball bat.

I held my hands up in the air, and Henry dropped the tent and did the same. “Looking for a safe place to bed down,” Henry called. “My girl and I won’t cause no trouble. We just need a place to sleep.”

The individual with the baseball bat stepped into the light from a highway lamp far above us. He looked like an Eskimo, completely bundled up except for his eyes, nose, and mouth. He put the bat to his shoulder, his gloved fists tight around its base.

I stepped forward. This guy would back down easily; I could tell by the twitch of his eyes between me and Henry. He was scared. “Dude, we’re not going to hurt you,” I said as Henry edged up close next to me. He’d probably sensed the same fear in the guy. “And this isn’t private property. We can be here same as you.”

The guy let out a harsh, hoarse laugh. “Guess that’s true, as long as you keep yourselves to yourselves. You heard about the attacks?”

“Yeah,” said Henry. “We were at another camp when they came through the other night. Tried the shelters, but they won’t let us stay together, so we came here.” He put his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned against his wiry frame, trying to look romantically inclined.

The bundled guy pointed with the tip of his bat. “There’s a good space over there by the water if you want it. Don’t make too much noise, though. Harriet won’t like it. She likes folks to keep it clean.”

I muscled down a shudder. “Harriet?”

Bundled Guy grunted. “Ex-nun. She’s got a bat, too.”

Henry laughed. “We’ll try not to offend Sister Harriet. And we got supplies we’ll share.” He pointed to our discarded backpack.

Bundled Guy’s eyes shone softly. “We keep collective supplies over there. Thanks for that.”

He left us alone while we set up camp on a rocky patch of gravel near the slap and splash of the bay just a few yards and a thin strip of grass away. When we got it up, we added our cans and a loaf of bread to the strange collection of supplies on a dirty white table set up under one of the lights. As we did, a few more people came out to introduce themselves.