"I was … working that night," Lana managed.
"Lucky you. Doesn't look like any of our neighbors made it."
Lana lowered the soup, her appetite gone. "Is it safe for you here alone?"
"With enough weapons, yes. Most of the condos have been looted already. I blew apart the last thug that tried to get in here. They come back every couple of days," Mrs. Watson said and indicated the living room window with one gnarled hand. "They threw in a grenade last time. It was a dud. I got as many boards up as I could."
"Who are they?" Lana asked, eyes on the window.
"Everyone's trying to survive. You do what you have to in that situation, even work with people you didn't think you ever would," Mrs. Watson said wisely.
Lana's face grew warm again, and she silently thanked the retired fed for brushing off her grays so diplomatically.
"Can you fire a weapon?"
"Poorly," Lana admitted.
Mrs. Watson appeared thoughtful before she pushed herself to her feet and hobbled to the couch. She picked up a handgun-sized laser weapon, set it down, and picked up a smaller one.
"Take this one," she said. "Keep it on you at all times."
"Are you sure?" Lana asked.
"I have enough. It was my daughter's long ago. She couldn't shoot a greencar if it was in front of her. Here's how you load it." Mrs. Watson demonstrated with a deftness at odds with her age. Lana watched then took it when Mrs. Watson held it out to her. "You came from the river?"
"Our helo went down and got tangled in the bridge's support wires."
"That would explain why you were wet. You're lucky if you fell out of the sky into the river and lived to tell it."
"I don't feel lucky."
"You've always struck me as a smart girl. I'm sure there's a reason for your survival."
Brady. The ache deep within her started again. Lana pushed him from her mind. It hurt too much to think of her Guardian. She couldn't help feeling bad she'd never taken much time to get to know her neighbors better. She knew nothing of Mrs. Watson's family. Mr. Tim never gave her the time to form friendships. Her condo was nothing like Mrs. Watson's. Lana's apartment held the basics: a place to sleep, a place for her clothes and enough furniture for Jack to sleep on.