― Henry David Thoreau
Off-Grid Safe House
Brooke was shaking her head and wryly smiling as she gazed at our surroundings. "You're no Thoreau, Zach Shepherd. I thought you went to the woods to front the essentials. This is no 'cabin' as you called it―it looks more like a high-end Airbnb rental."
I coloured, feeling more than slightly embarrassed. "Okay, I used to be that kind of guy and it pains me to admit it. I wanted the best things―even when I was 'roughing' it. I often secluded myself to work on a story but didn't want to lack for anything."
She rolled her eyes. "I was under the impression we'd be scraping out an existence cooped up in a mouldy cabin with wood smoke stinging our eyes. This is an embarrassment of riches."
I threw up my hands in a gesture of surrender. "You're right. I admit I was after the good life and now this so-called rustic retreat seems so decadent . But I console myself this is my primary residence―I'm actually renting my house in the city."
I sat down on the couch in the great room feeling justly chastened for my sins.
I really wasn't a social climber―most of the 'luxury' items consisted of technology I needed to work remotely, which is why my rental in the city was more Spartan and sparsely furnished. In the city, I could go into the newspaper offices anytime I needed access to equipment whereas out in God's country, I couldn't really do that.
Anyway, that was the apologia pro vita mea I was framing in my head to rationalize my guilt at such lavish expenditures.
Angelica had been silently sitting back and watching the exchange between Brooke and me and now she suddenly made a comment.
"Tom Faraday actually admired you, Zach. He didn't like the fact you went to private schools and couldn't relate to your friends and lifestyle, but he respected your talent."
My jaw dropped at her unexpected comment. "I hope that was the image he had of me―that's certainly the kind of journalist I aspired to be, but thank you for the encouragement."
I was waiting for Brooke to make a sarcastic comment but she didn't―she actually softened a little. "Maybe I was a bit hard on you, Zach. You do seem to have changed. I guess that explains why he entrusted his research files to you instead of Josh Cohen."
I don't know why but I felt incredibly vulnerable at that moment.
I wanted the girls to despise my previous extravagant spending. Hell, I despised it myself. I needed to be punished because I was blessed with resources the majority of people didn't have, especially those trapped in the city.
The more I thought about what conditions would be like in urban centers in the coming weeks I literally felt sick―it was nausea that came from having too much and I couldn't appreciate being spared suffering and pain when others had no way out of their predicament.
Our escape from the city no longer seemed a desperate plan but selfish and the only way I could justify it was by rebelling against the cabal and the various cartels that would be complicit with their foul aims.
Brooke sighed, "So, are you going to give us a tour of your estate?"
"Don't rub it in, Girl," I growled, "I already feel bad enough about my misspent past."
Angelica intervened before things got emotionally charged. "Actually, I think it's a good idea, Zach. We should take inventory so we can manage our resources and use them so you can get out the truth about the cabal and their intentions."
"You make a good point," I conceded.
"So, give use the tour, Zach," Brooke smiled sweetly.
Yeah, she was being sarcastic, but Angelica's defence of me renewed my resolve and I was willing to do anything in my power to expose the works of the Enemy.