The storms have stopped, but everything is gone. No power, cell service gone, nothing is working. We made it high into the mountains, thankfully, because we are now just half a mountain away from the new coast line. I stand looking out at the ocean littered with debris from homes, cities and everything in between. It’s not until I see bodies floating in the water that I turn back to the camp we set up.

I’m glad we all brought our caravans. They thought I was crazy when I had them load up the vintage wooden ones our da’s had built for the parades, but they are exactly like the ones our people used to travel and live in. They also laughed when I hooked the trailer and loaded the horses, but it looks like they will be handy too.

No gas stations up here and none below, unless you count the ones under the water. My mother had loaded every jar of vegetables she had canned these last few years in along with quilts from the old country. My cousin has the back of her truck filled with food and water; she has been prepping for years for a zombie apocalypse. I’m truly thankful for her craziness now. The little ones are playing like nothing is happening. I look back at the sky. It’s clear and blue. I guess Cora and the others won the battle they were facing.

A noise from beyond the tree line draws my attention, and I move closer to my family, waiting. It’s not long before people step out of the shadows. Their eyes travel around the clearing, taking in everything we’ve brought with us. Brett, one of the cousins, steps up beside me, a shotgun in his hands, his eyes narrowed on the strangers.

“Are you Remy Sinclair?” A man steps forward as he speaks. Brett glances at me, and I nod as I walk forward. He keeps the gun raised, pointed at the strangers as I move closer to them.

“I’m Remy, yes. How’d you come to be here?” I glanced behind him as others step forward, it looks to be five or six whole families.

“My mama got a call from an old friend down in New Orleans. She told us we need to get to high ground so here we are. She told us exactly where to find you, Remy. My mama told me Ms. Colleen ain’t never been wrong. So she had us pack up and head this way. I figured it weren’t right for us to come and leave everyone behind so I called my friends. Not all of them believe. Those that do, that did, well, they’re here too. We just barely made it out of Charlotte before the water destroyed everything. It ate up that whole city like it ain’t ever been there before.” The sounds of people crying filled the air, not just the new people but those that I had brought also as once more, they realize what they’ve lost.

“New Orleans was the same. Just gone. I imagine most the world like that. Well, if Aunt Colleen wanted you here, then you’re welcome. I figure we’ll get the camp set good and then we’ll go from there.” I don’t tell them about the painting that I just started. I don’t think they need to know that we’re never leaving this place. This is home now. It will be home for people for very long time. I wave my arm around the large meadow. “Find yourselves a spot. I am assuming your vehicles and such are parked somewhere down the road?” He nods.

“You can never be too cautious. And I feel like things are gonna get ugly before they get better. People gonna be desperate.”

My cousin calls out beside her caravan, “Just like the apocalypse. I told you, Remy.” I chuckle, shaking my head, but I guess she ain't wrong.

“I know you are right, Mary.” Our interaction gets a chuckle from those that just joined us. “Most of you can stay while the others go and get the vehicles. You can pick out your spots and then just direct them into them.” Turning, I walked past Brett and put my hand on the gun, lowering it. Then I go to join the others. I quietly tell them to make sure most of our supplies are hidden. I trust Aunt Colleen but I don’t know these people. Me and the boys will keep a close eye on them until we get to know them better.

I head to my new home and begin trying to set up solar panels. I hope to get long-range radio up and working. Maybe we’ll have some idea who’s left in the world.