Chapter 13: End of the Line

The HOA representative took a deep breath of the cold air around her, turning back toward the community members whose morale was faltering under Dean’s threat.

Despite not believing in the sincerity of his warning, she understood she was not going to convince the people around her to stand their ground after hearing it.

As much as it pained her to turn away here and now, Dean was clearly not intimidated in the slightest by the men she had brought with her. She would need far greater numbers if she was going to force him to hand over his hoarded supplies.

“We’re heading back for now… But this isn’t over!”

With a wicked sneer hidden beneath her scarf, she turned away and led the mob back toward the community center, where many others were waiting for her.

Dean watched from his balcony through the reticle of his optic, the sight trained squarely on her back. His finger hovered just over the trigger as he tracked her movement.

The moment she turned away, Dean eased his finger off the trigger and rested it against the guard, silently watching as the threat removed itself from his property.

It took a long while before he finally ejected the magazine and cleared the round from the chamber of his SVD, flipping the safety back into place.

Only then did he return inside, where he found Yuki waiting for him; dressed in a pair of leopard-print pajamas as she sat on his bed.

The concern was visible on her face as she watched Dean stash the rifle and its magazine near the door.

“I wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome,” he said dryly. “And while the offer is tempting, I’m afraid I’m not in the mood.”

It took a moment for Yuki to realize what he was implying. When she did, her face flushed as she began to pout.

“Asshole! I heard the commotion outside and came as quickly as I could to check on you! But if you’re going to be that way, then I won’t even bother next time!”

She was just about to storm out when Dean stopped her dead in her tracks.

“The next time,” he said grimly, “it won’t be my shouting that gets your attention. When that happens, keep your head down and stay away from the windows. They’re rated to stop most small arms; but they’re still a failure point.”

Yuki continued out the door, no longer angry. If anything, she was overwhelmed by dread. This was only the second time she had ever seen firearms in her life.

Was Dean actually going to kill somebody?

She didn’t want to think about it. Not now. Instead, she went downstairs in her plush slippers and began preparing dinner.

Dean had various chores to perform throughout the day: checking gauges, performing minor maintenance.

Without ever formally discussing it, he and Yuki had fallen into a division of labor. She handled the domestic tasks, while he ensured the systems that kept them alive continued to function at optimal levels.

Today, Dean descended beneath the surface level of his property into the basement structure. It was a multilayered space containing redundant power and water systems for the house.

From there, a heated tunnel system extended toward the other structures in his backyard, allowing him to move between them without exposing himself to the elements or to anyone outside his doors. Lights activated as he passed, responding automatically to motion.

At the tunnel’s end, Dean entered the lowest level of the first outbuilding. The room was brightly lit and filled with aquaponic systems.

He checked the tanks and trays out of habit. Fish, prawns, plants, water; each doing its part. The waste fed the greens; the greens cleaned the water, and as long as the cycle stayed balanced, food kept growing.

That food either sustained him directly or fed the animals housed in another structure to which the tunnel led.

Dean walked to the next structure and fed the rabbits kept in their hutch, a reliable protein source. He was well aware of the risks of relying too heavily on rabbit meat alone, but the system was never meant to stand in isolation.

Above them were the goats; kept partly for meat, but primarily for milk. Dean fed them before ascending to the top level of the structure, where the chicken coop was housed. Like the goats, the chickens served a dual role, providing eggs rather than poultry.

Between the plants and fish from the aquaponics system, the meat from the rabbits, the milk, butter, and ghee from the goats, and the eggs from the coop, Dean had created a closed-loop food system. It was nutritious, sustainable; and when prepared properly, even enjoyable.

Once his daily checks were complete, Dean returned to the house to shower. When he came downstairs afterward, the scent of dinner greeted him.

Yuki had prepared a noodle dish using frozen ingredients Dean had set aside during the earliest days of winter, before his systems were producing reliably. It was a customary Yamato recipe; one he never would have been able to cook himself.

He felt something stir within him at the sight of her: pajama sleeves rolled up, hair tied back, a frilly apron around her waist as she tasted the dish she was finishing.

“You know,” he said, “gyaru and housewife usually aren’t words that go together. And yet…”

Yuki glanced over her shoulder, giving the dish one last stir.

“You wish you had a wife like me!”

She turned to serve the food when Dean spoke again; more quietly this time.

“You’re not wrong about that…”

The words hung between them. Yuki stared at him, and Dean realized too late that he’d let the thought escape aloud. Neither of them knew how to respond.

Eventually, Yuki set the plates down and took her seat, eating in silence while staring at her food. Meanwhile Dean turned on the television, hoping to breathe some life back into the room.

There was nothing.

No anchors, no broadcast… Just static, lingering long enough to draw Yuki’s attention as the television cycled through channel after channel; Each one the same.

Dean sighed and switched the input to his personal digital archive.

“This is it… isn’t it?” Yuki asked softly.

Dean didn’t answer at first. He took a bite of the meal, and for a moment, the world beyond the table faded.

“You said this was your mother’s recipe?” he said at last. “Then I can count my blessings. Looks like I won’t be eating poorly from here on out.”

It wasn’t enough.

Yuki set her utensils down and met his gaze directly.

“Dean… I know what you’re doing. Just tell me straight. This is it, isn’t it?”

Dean wiped his mouth with a napkin and straightened in his chair. He didn’t dodge the question.

“Yes,” he said. “This is it. The end of the line. We’ll be fine though, as you know I prepared for this long before the storm. But everyone outside these doors…”

He didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t need to.

Yuki was quiet for a long time. Whatever passed through her mind, she kept to herself. Finally, she smiled faintly, brushed her hair behind her ear, and took another bite.

“If you really like it that much,” she said, “I’ll make it again for you next week.”

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