Mack's whole life fit into a single basket. A couple of changes of clothes, a tablet with a bad battery that still worked when plugged in, a deflated soccer ball, a cool carved stick a neighbor gave him, and some shed snakeskin he had found in the backyard.

The truck was overloaded, and he could only carry the stuff he could keep in his lap, hence the laundry hamper with the things he could fit in it. His little sister, Mary-Ann only had the one basket too – she had clothes, a baby blanket, and a couple of dolls. Baby Joey didn't have a basket, but he didn't care about anything but mom and his sucker, so he didn't really need one. Mom and Dad didn't have baskets, but really it was all their stuff in the truck.

They had spent the day bringing as much of their house as they could into the old beat-up pickup, but a lot was getting left behind too. Dad only let them bring enough dishes for the five of them to have a single set. Sleeping bags for all five, some blankets, a box with their winter clothes, another box with a bunch of dusty papers that mom had cried over. Most of the bed was filled with what dad called 'gear.' Tools, tents, tarps, heavy metal boxes that were carefully stowed first on the bottom. Mack had to bring up the wheat. Dad had bought tons of the stuff. Hundreds of white buckets, filled with wheat, corn, and oats, then sealed.

Mack's skinny arms shook when he carried them, the wire handle cutting into his hands. At first, he would carry two buckets, one in each hand, but two buckets weighed almost as much as he did, and his twelve-year-old frame tired quickly. But even as he got sweaty, he didn't stop. He carried the buckets, one by one, up out of their basement to stack next to the old Ram. He only managed a dozen or so before his dad stopped him. The truck couldn't hold all that much, after all.

“That's all. We'll just leave the rest,” said Mack's dad.

“We really ought to clean up a bit, I hate leaving like this,” said his mom.

“No, Jackie.” Dad's voice was tired – the two of them had argued about this before, although it was the first time Mack had heard the exchange. “They want to take our house away, even send the sheriff to kick us out, I am not going to make anything easier on them. They're lucky we don't burn it down as we go.”

Jackie was quiet as dad pulled a tarp tight over the load in the truck bed. “'Sus, you sure about this? I can't help but worry. Your parents said they would take us in...” she trailed off as he stopped working for a moment, his head resting against the pile.

“Yeah, honey. I'm sure. Mom and dad... they're not much better off. Not really. One or two new medical issues and they'll be out of their home too. If they try and help us they'll go that much sooner. I won't, can't, do that to them. Maybe if I thought I could get hired again, but no one wants welders now.”

He went back to tightening down the straps, “Besides, we have a place to go. He cares about people and is actually doing something about it. Which is better than all those crooked CEOs and their senators are doing. It's their damn fault my company went under, anyways.”

A few loud bangs rang out, from a couple of streets over. Mom and dad both looked that way, and then looked both ways down their street. “Just a backfire, it's ok,” said dad.

“Ok, 'Sus. You know I love you, right?” Mack's mom risked a smile, despite the tears in her eyes. Mack's dad smiled back at her, then shooed all of them into the back seat of the cab. Mack and Mary-Ann were even laughing as they made themselves comfortable in the back. They knew it was going to be a long drive, but seeing mom and dad happy was welcome.

The drive actually went quickly. Mack didn't have anything to do in the car except watch as overgrown lawns and homes with gaping windows slowly gave way to farmland. The farmland was busier than the suburbs had been, it seemed like every field had a man or two walking through, or driving a tractor, or otherwise bustling with unknowable tasks. Soon enough the farmland gave way to rocky hills and dense woods.

They only pulled over when someone needed to use a bathroom, or when Joey needed changing. Dad would put gas into the tank from one of the cans strapped on top when they did stop. Once the cans were tied back down they would continue on.

When night came, they pulled off the side of the road and drove to a little clearing out of sight of the highway. Dad didn't bother with an exit, he just pulled off the side of the highway, cut a bit of fence with bolt cutters, and drove through the grass.

Even in the mountains, the night was warm enough and dry, so they all slept in sleeping bags under the stars. Dad lit a fire, and they cooked hot dogs and drank herbal tea that mom made from mint and other stuff she found. With a bit of effort, Mack was able to pretend that they were just camping, the way they used to when he was little. Before dad's work started taking more and more time. He fell asleep quickly, listening to the crickets and the snap of green wood on the fire.

In the morning they loaded up, washed with a bit of water, and were off again. This time they only followed the highway for a short time, then pulled off and followed a road that wound through the mountains. The old concrete gave way to gravel after a while, forcing dad to slow down.

Despite himself, Mack fell asleep. He woke up when dad brought the truck to a stop. They were in front of a gate, sort of. It was just a few big pieces of chain link fence on a frame that could be dragged over the muddy road. A couple of men with big guns were standing on the other side, watching as dad got out to talk to them. After a minute, he got back in as they dragged the fencing out of the way, and then he drove in.

There were a bunch of buildings here, mostly with big plastic or corrugated panels for walls. There were a couple of big cabins that looked more like the houses Mack was used to, but most of the stuff here looked pretty ramshackle. There were even some tents set up that he could see that were visible as they drove around big lines of dirt piled up here and there. Dad pulled the truck around one of the berms and Mack saw a long line of trucks and cars, it almost made the place look like a parking lot if things were paved.

The air smelled different than Mack was used to. There was a clean pine scent that overlayed everything, but he could smell smoke and grease, too. The quiet was nice, too – with a bit of concentration you could hear birds calling, and the rustle of wind in the trees.

As the family got out of the truck, a small crowd emerged from the closest cabin, heading right for them. It would have been scary, maybe, because about half of them were dressed like soldiers and were carrying guns slung on their shoulders, but there were a few women carrying babies too. And the group was led by a big guy in jeans and a denim jacket. The big guy, the only one in the group that was clean-shaven, was smiling a big smile – bigger than Mack had seen anyone smile in a long time. With crinkling eyes, he boomed out, “Jesus! I'm so glad you've made it! Our little brotherhood is so grateful you've brought your family and your talents! This must be Jackie? And your kids?”

Mack couldn't help but cringe a little bit, hunching his shoulders and looking down. Partly because the man was loud, but mostly because he knew his dad hated being called Jesus. Dad could just about tolerate it when it was pronounced the right way, where the first bit rhymed with 'hay,' but when someone made it sound like the bible guy dad would blow up at them, calling them all sorts of names that ranged from stupid to racist to ignorant to blasphemous. And dad had been angry a lot lately, Mack just hoped that dad wouldn't stay angry the whole day.

Instead of getting all read and yelling, dad just ducked his head at the man, saying, “Thank you, sir. I'm very grateful you have a place for us. I'm looking forward to working again.”

“Of course, anyone who can work works.” The bug guy said. “That's what life is about, after all. Humans need purpose, and when you steal that purpose, you steal their humanity. It's never been about the reward, the pay, the prestige, it's about meaning. Things you can be proud of, right? I'm glad I can give you something to be proud of. And we can take care of you and your family too. After all, it's the least the brotherhood can do.”

Dad and the guy went off, followed by most of the soldiers with their guns, leaving mom and the kids by their car. The other women mostly stayed too. “Let's show you where your barracks will be. It's not far, and we'll help you unload, too.”

“Barracks?” Asked mom.

“Yeah, it can get a little crowded, but every couple gets their own room, the kids sleep together in the main bunk-room. Right now there's a shower and bathroom for every six people, but we're working on the plumbing to get everyone a private space.”

“Oh,” was all mom said.

Mack's basket was taken to a big room, filled with bunk beds. Mack got the top bunk while Mary-Ann was given the bottom. There were a pair of trunks at the foot of the bed to keep their stuff in, too. Mack helped his little sister make her bed – stretching the old sheets over the thin mattress and getting her blanket laid out the way she liked it. While he did that, Mom and the other women unloaded everything. It happened pretty fast, even though they opened and emptied each box as they went. Tools went to a shed separate from the barracks, the food Mack had loaded up went to the group pantries, and so on. Everything got shared out except their clothes and a few personal items, like mom's picture binders and the paintings that grandpa had done and given dad.

Now Mack's whole life fit in his trunk.