"Better before, was working to get the finer things, the luxuries, but now, better means working to survive, to keep what we've got; this second chance. These things have to be done, and we have to be the ones to do them. There is no one else," his tone had become slightly scolding and Kenn was impressed, sure there would be extra hands for at least the next week. No one liked to see Adrian disappointed or unhappy.
"I'd like to have more of us taking the gun classes too. There's a large group of guerillas moving up Interstate 25, as most of you know, and we need to be able to defend ourselves."
"Do you think we'll be attacked?" the reporter, Cynthia 'Shark-Bitch' Quest, asked, sweating heavily because she'd insisted on squeezing into the front with the elderly so she wouldn't miss a single word or reaction.
Adrian shrugged. His eyes were unreadable even though he knew her from before the War. She hadn't placed him yet, might not if Fate was on his side, but he hadn't even considered turning her away, or worse, getting rid of her. And that was the difference between him and his father's people, why he was worthy to lead these people.
"I hope not, but it's part of why we need more hands for guard duty and that reminds me, people are getting out of their cars in new places way too soon. Many times, the guards haven't cleared or roped off the area yet, and I'm telling you now, someone will end up getting hurt because of it."
Adrian moved to the beaded doorway of the Mess, to the cook. Hilda was a plump-faced German woman they'd picked up in central Nevada, another one he wasn't sure about yet. Like the reporter - Adrian didn't where she fit into his plans for their future, but he had little doubt they both did. And if one of these two alert females discovered his secret, it was fate. They wouldn't though, he had faith in that. At least not until these people were able to survive without him. Then it would be open season.
"Can I get a Bud?"
The big-shouldered cook moved immediately, eyes unreadable, and he made a mental note to talk to her at a later time as he turned back to his people. If she wanted work to do that kept her out of view, he had that, but he would not let her waste that sharp intelligence.
Adrian looked back at his camp. "This area is bad, dangerous. We all feel it. We can't stay long without getting sick. After the contest, I'd like to make some real miles and get away from here now that we know NORAD is gone."