by D B Bray
To easy.
He gave the bottom rung a tug, and it fell over the side. He heard footsteps above him as he watched it crash into the icy waters. As the voices came closer, he held his breath and pressed himself against the beam he was standing in front of. He snatched a piece of concrete at his feet, walked to the other side, and threw it against the beam, the voices above sprinting in the direction of the sound. He slid out from under the bridge as more men came to investigate, some leaning over as far as they could. He shimmied up the rock face, took a look at the men’s backs, and then disappeared into the brush.
He hobbled along the path, his leg wound screaming at him to stop. The pain was unbearable, and he fell onto the trail, a slight groan escaping his lips. He moaned and held his leg, rocking back and forth. He felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck when he heard a snarl coming from his left. He looked up as a lone grey wolf emerged, its teeth bared.
Too tired to move, muscles aching, he felt his cottonmouth taking over.
This won’t be the end of me.
A smile crossed his lips, and he crawled to his knees. He heard a neighing behind him, then a gunshot. The wolf howled, then fell at Jack’s feet.
“Terrible shame to come this far and die by yourself,” Rufus said, dismounting.
“Rufus?”
“The very same. Now let’s build a fire and eat,” he said, helping Jack to stand.
They built a small fire at an abandoned gas station a few hundred yards from the road. Jack unpacked his pickled fish and handed Rufus the jar.
He laughed and unscrewed the top. “Pickled fish, my favorite,” he said, sitting across from him.
“How’d you know where to find me?” Jack asked, wrinkling his nose as Rufus swallowed a piece of herring.
“You said you were headed to New Milford, Connecticut. I happen to have ridden across a good portion of my zone and the ones north of it. New Milford was on a map I had, so...” He shrugged. “I missed our conversations.”
“I’m glad you came. But what about your place?” Jack asked.
“I’ve got enough booby traps set to stop a small army from looting it. Besides, I would like to see this Fort Camden you were talking about.” He pulled a piece of wolf meat off his skewer and chewed it loudly. “So, Jack, why the trip into the North Lands?”
“Long story,” Jack said with a loud groan as he stretched his leg.
Rufus chuckled and took another bite off the skewer. “Long stories are always bad stories, Jack. But if we don’t have people who fight those troubles, then we will never move forward. So, what’s the trouble you seek?” he asked.
“It’s some document called a Constitution. Before the Cataclysm, the world was bright and vibrant. Now it’s a dark place filled with death and loneliness, as you know. The document is supposed to help us govern a tribe and bring other tribes together,” he said.
Rufus stared at him and nodded. “This Constitution thing must be what that flag I gave you is about. I followed you to give you another book to repay the kindness you showed me.” He reached into his knapsack and handed it to him. “It was passed onto me with the flag. It talks about this Constitution thing too.”
Jack opened the book, and the binding cracked. He smelled the crisp pages and sighed. The book was brand new, a rare find for any Scavenger.
“I’ve never smelled a new book. How did you keep it safe all these years?” Jack asked.
“I hid it in a chest wrapped in some kind of plastic wrap I found. I never opened it because I can’t read very well. My father taught me the basics, but even his knowledge was limited. He said the world was in this book. But I never knew what he meant.”
“I’ll read it soon, but for now, I have to find this last piece and then go back to Fort Camden,” he said, wincing as he stood up.
“You mean we have to find it.”
“Rufus, I can’t ask you to go with me,” Jack said.
He smiled. “Jack, it doesn’t look like I have a choice. But first, we need to rebandage this wound and then get you on Boils,” he said, helping him sit back down.
Rufus rolled Jack’s pant leg up and unwound his bandage. The wound was infected, red streaks winding their way away from it. Rufus stifled his gag reflex as he pulled out some ground garlic. He searched in his pack and found a bottle he was looking for.
He unscrewed the cap and smiled. “Here’s your honey back. Damn shame too, it tastes great,” he said, smearing it over the wound with the garlic.
Jack screamed as tears fell down his cheeks. Rufus held his hand over his mouth, and then rolled a clean bandage around his calf, then tied it off. The wound would worsen if they didn't go back to a city to get better medical care.
Rufus helped him into the saddle and then led Boils away. They passed the fire and kicked dirt on it. He led him north down the main road, and after a few hours, they came to the town of New Milford.
New Milford was an oasis in an otherwise dirty landscape. The trees were untouched by the war. As they crested the hill, the town seemed to be frozen in time.
“This is paradise,” Rufus whispered more to himself than Jack.
“I would say majestic,” Jack said.
The two-lane road that ran down the street was split by lush green trees, lining each side. Only a few buildings had withstood the test of time. Jack saw a large two-story red brick building sticking out among the overgrown trees.
“You think that’s Main Street?” Jack asked.
“Only one way to find out.”
The pair made their way into the abandoned town as the wind blew leaves across Rufus’ feet. It was a picturesque landscape, the perfect view. They headed for the brick building to start their search.
“This must be what heaven looks like,” Rufus said, helping Jack down from the saddle.
Jack stared at the building for a moment. “Why is it so quiet?” he asked, glancing over both shoulders.
“Don’t know, don’t care. All I know is the place is breathtaking. When we find this document, I’ll be coming back here,” Rufus said.
Rufus looked at the front door of the building they were standing in front of and read the sign on the ground; Town Hall of New Milford. He took a step forward and tripped. He pushed himself up, brushed himself off, and picked up the sign.
“Homesite of Roger Sherman 1721-1793. Signer of the Declaration of Independence,” he mumbled, handing the plaque to Jack. “No mention of a Constitution, though.”
Jack cracked his book open and scanned the table of contents. He found what he was looking for and read it aloud. “Roger Sherman built a goods store in New Milford, Connecticut, in 1743. Now built over his original home is the New Milford Town Hall,” he said, staring at the building. “This must be the place.”
Rufus unshouldered his rifle and checked the chamber. “Ready when you are, Jack.”
They walked across the dew-covered grass to the front door. Rufus opened it and cleared the cobwebs away with the barrel. He stepped in, rifle raised. After a thorough sweep, he waved Jack in.
“Let’s find what you need and skedaddle,” Rufus said.
They walked to the stairwell and up to the second floor. Everything was untouched, even from looters. The desks were still in pristine condition, the cubicles unmarked. Jack walked along the walls, not quite sure where to look.
Where would I hide this piece?
Nothing looked out of the ordinary to him. He stared at the white walls, a few scorched from something unknown in the past.
“Jack, where would you hide it?” Rufus asked.
“Not sure, but if I were to hide something, I would go to the least conspicuous place. The other pieces were behind a wall and in an air conditioning duct. And the last one in the air conditioning duct almost got me killed. He looked around the large room and thought about where he would hide it.
If I had to hide a document, where would I put it? Gotta be here somewhere.
He searched along the wall, runnin
g his fingers over the individual crevices. Rufus searched through a lone desk and grabbed anything that wasn’t nailed down. Finding nothing, he searched another one over by the wall, opposite Jack.
He opened the center drawer and felt around. Something stuck out and pinched his finger. “He, Jack, think I got something.” They yanked the drawer free, and as they did, a bookshelf on the wall shook open. They heard the noise behind them and watched the false door fold like an accordion. Jack headed over to the hidden room, and as he approached, he tripped over a bunched up rug.
Rufus followed him in with a lit candle he kept on his belt. As the room lit up, Jack gasped as he stared straight ahead. Propped in the corner of the room was a skeleton. The body lay slumped over a box, its hands clutching the sides. Rufus helped Jack to his feet and handed him the candle.
“Why is there a dead person in here?” Rufus asked.
Jack shrugged and walked to the corner of the room. “I’ve seen stranger things on this trip.”
The room was empty, except for some melted candles laying around the body covered with thick cobwebs.
What is it with skeletons holding chests?
Jack dropped to one knee, his wound reminding him it was still there. He heard Rufus moan behind him as he snapped the skeleton's brittle fingers off. The chest slid free from its grasp. Jack pulled out a wooden dowel that was being used to close the lock.
The hinges creaked as he opened it. Inside the purple velvet-lined box were two pieces of parchment and another note. Jack placed the document carefully in his knapsack and unfolded the letter.
The end is near. I have hidden in this secret compartment, and the kind people of New Milton have locked me in here per my wishes and headed for higher ground. I have been chased for the last ten miles by a group that profits from the new slave trade crossing the nation. I’ve heard them called The Takers.
I couldn’t risk this falling into their hands. Along with this note, I have included the last two pieces of the original document, but I didn’t tell the others who hid their articles about the very last one.
Jack’s shoulders sagged. He groaned and looked at Rufus. “Looks like there is another piece,” he said.
There were twelve amendments added to the Constitution as a ratified document in 1791. This document, along with the Constitution, guarantees our liberties and protection. I have left a separate note on what they do. Jack unfolded the letter behind the one he was reading.
James Madison wrote the Bill of Rights, and I hid it on my way here. It is in a place only a few people know about. At the Montpelier plantation, there was a freedman by the name of Paul Jennings. He was at the White House with James Madison when he became president.
He wrote a book called A Colored Man’s Reminiscences of James Madison. His contribution to this country was a special one. I believe in a government by the people, and because of this, I have hidden the document where this man lived who helped start a better Republic. If you have come this far, go farther.
If the mansion still stands, it will be hidden in Virginia. Montpelier forest, to be exact. I hid it in a fifty-foot tree that stands by itself, surrounded by other trees in a circle. Restore these documents to their rightful place in Washington, D.C., when you find them.
Go to the National Archives and place these documents back where they belong.
God be with you.
Jack sighed and handed the letter to Rufus. “Guess our journey will continue.”
“Alright, I’m with you,” Rufus replied.
They walked back into the room and made their way outside. The sun was setting on the horizon, casting shadows around them. They walked a few miles back the way they came and found a safe place at another abandoned gas station, under an awning. The weeds covered most of the walls giving the building an aged looked. A few rats scurried off into the underbrush as they built a fire.
“I can’t believe I have to go back to Zone Ten; it’s a long way from here,” Jack said, defeated.
“So, the trail ends where it began, eh?” Rufus asked.
“I guess so.”
“Where is this Montpelier place?” he asked.
Jack pulled the map out of his pocket, and after finding the spot, he showed it to Rufus. “And where are we?” Rufus asked.
Jack drew a line between the two points.
Rufus sucked on his teeth. “Long way.”
They would have to head back toward Zone Ten and ride a few days west. The area was in a large quarantine zone, full of unexploded ordnance from the war.
Rufus went back to cooking more wolf meat and then made eye contact with Jack. “The pieces you have complete the document you're looking for. But you didn’t know about this last piece?” he asked.
“Yup.”
“And how long will it take us to get there?” Rufus asked.
“Probably around another three weeks by horse. But we only have one, so it will take much longer.” Jack growled, his face darkening. “I just want this to be over with, so I can see Toby and Lucy again,” he said, anger edging into his voice.
“I don’t have a family, so I can’t relate to wanting to go home. But if it gets you there faster, then let’s buy a horse in the next tent city we get to. Get some rest, I’ll see you in the morning,” Rufus said.
The morning dew settled on Jack’s blanket, and when he woke up, he was shivering. Rufus sat on a downed telephone pole, stoking the fire. He lifted up the bandages, honey, and garlic. “Morning, Jack, you ready to get better?” he asked.
Jack groaned as he got up and limped over to the fire. Rufus lifted his pant leg and inspected his wound. It was healing slowly, but it was healing. Jack screamed as Rufus scrubbed the paste off and then patted it dry with a clean cloth.
“I know it hurts, boy, but you scream like that again, and the wolves will find us for sure,” Rufus said.
Rufus re-applied the honey and garlic paste and then re-bandaged the wound. He stoked the fire again and handed a piece of wolf meat to Jack.
“Your wound will heal soon. You're a lucky boy. It could have been worse, a lot worse,” he said.
“Watch it, Rufus. I’m not a boy. The second my tribe was exterminated; I became a man,” he snapped.
“True, but being a man isn’t about revenge, Jack. Being a man is about rising above the hate and helping others as you did for me,” Rufus said.
Jack sighed. “Some things are unforgivable, Rufus.”
Rufus smiled and packed his bag. “Jack, one day you’ll wake up to the fact that life is short, and you can make the most of it if you choose to. Or you won’t. Let’s get a move on. We have a very long journey ahead of us.”
Chapter 16
Jack and Rufus packed, headed south to a small tent city, bought a horse, and arrived at Moses Wheeler bridge a day later. They rode across the bridge, the slavers long departed. In their absence, they left massive piles of trash in an otherwise clean environment. They passed the outskirts of New York and D.C and made their way back to Virginia.
They traveled almost non stop, resting only when Boils and the other horse needed a break. It had been a few weeks, but the pair got to know each other well.
Jack learned about Rufus’ background and his family. Rufus lived alone for most of his life, only venturing into tent cities when food was scarce. He told Jack what he knew of the flag he gave him and the meaning behind it. They spoke about how much Jack missed Toby and the growing affection he felt for Lucy. Finally, after what seemed like a journey that would never end, they came over the hill to Montpelier in Orange County, Virginia.
The picturesque landscape was all but destroyed. Only the scorched trees behind the mansion still stood. Gone were the four giant white pillars in front of the house. The front lay in ruin, pigeon nests, were stacked high at the center of the house used to be. One of three chimneys still stood, the others crumbled with time.
Jack opened his history book, muttering to himself as he read. “This house is the one my
ancestor James Madison lived in. He is buried somewhere around here with his family.”
Rufus smacked his lips and looked at the mansion. “Most of this place has been destroyed, but the forest still stands. Let’s go look for this tree.”
Rufus clicked his tongue, and Boils cantered toward the house. They made their way across the war-torn lawn and stood in awe at the magnificence of the house. Even destroyed, it stirred a feeling of pride within Jack, knowing he was a descendant of one of the most influential men in history.
They dismounted and inspected the landscape around them, then they walked to the back of the house and tied off their horses. Rufus glanced at the naked tree limbs, some hanging so low he could reach up and grab them. Every tree was huge. None seemed particularly special.
“It’s like finding a needle in a stack of needles,” Jack moaned, touching his leg.
“That it is, but we can find it together,” Rufus reminded him.
Every tree appeared to be the same. Some limbs blew in the breeze. Others fell where the countless storms destroyed them. Several wide tree stumps lay across their path. They navigated around them, and Jack noticed a large number of age rings on several of them, showing him that they several hundred years old.
As Jack walked around, he thought the forest was playing tricks on him. He threw his hands up in the air and shouted, “Let me go home!”
A deep growl sounded to their right, then another behind them. Rufus glanced at Jack, and they instinctively moved back to back. They moved in a circle keeping an eye on the tree line.
“Any ideas?” Rufus hissed.
“We move as one backing out step by step,” Jack said, trying to stay calm.
As he finished his sentence, two giant brown bears came out of the woods. One flanked them, and the other faced them head-on. Their fur was molted in clumps, their eyes a deep yellow. With a deep roar, they both stood on their hind legs.
“Ok, what now, genius?” Rufus asked.
“We don't run, no matter what,” Jack said, sliding back toward the mansion.
The bears growled and ambled closer. “Do you think we can shoot them before they attack?” Rufus asked.