Tier Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Cindy Gunderson

  “This is m’sister and brothers. They aren’t really m’sister and brothers, but that’s what we say,” Rose explains.

  “So nice to meet you,” I respond gently, hoping that my smile will inspire some trust. “How old are all of you?” I ask.

  Rose answers for them. “Lila is ten, Root is fourteen, and Caleb is thirteen.” Bentley and Tal give shy grins, their eyes still wide at the prospect of spending time with so many children. I sigh, immediately regretting our planned return trip and wishing we could give them more time to play.

  “Can we meet your parents?” Eric asks. The eyes of all three children dart sideways to Rose who looks down at the grass, hands tethered behind her back.

  “Rose…” I start, but her head snaps up at the sound of her name, causing me to hesitate. She turns toward the shelter and motions for us to follow her. Bent flashes me a worried look, so I take his hand and grip it securely as we walk. I carefully guide him around tree branches, old posts, and a few broken dishes that litter the yard surrounding the entrance. As we walk up the steps and through the open door, a protruding nail nearly catches my shirt. Eric and I exchange a glance.

  It takes a moment for our eyes to adjust to the dim light inside. The windows are coated with a natural film, preventing the sunlight from penetrating the interior fully. My eyes circle the room, taking everything in. While it definitely isn’t in great condition, the kitchen—much like ours, attached to the main open space—is remarkably tidy.

  Rose pauses when she reaches a roughly hewn table in the center of the room.

  “I—I din’t want you to come because...this is our fam’ly. We take care of each other.” She turns to face us, twisting her fingers around the hem of Tal’s coat. “We need food. Bad. But now…” she pauses, her face contorting as she continues, “Please don’ make us go,” she pleads, her words beginning to tumble out of her. “Mom went an’ I din’t ever see her again, I don’ want to leave—”

  “Whoa,” Eric interrupts, holding his hands up and walking toward her. She instinctively pulls her arms tightly around her torso as he approaches. “Rose, we aren’t going to make you go anywhere. What are you talking about?” He gently strokes her hair as her shoulders continue to rapidly rise and fall. When she doesn’t answer, he asks, “Where are your parents?”

  “Gone,” she answers, her voice barely audible. My heart stops.

  “Where did they go?” Bentley asks, his voice obviously taking Eric by surprise.

  She shrugs her shoulders.

  “Are any adults here to take care of you?” Eric asks gently.

  Rose shakes her head, her arms still clenched.

  “How long?” I ask, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

  “They’ve been gone since I can remember. I don’ know—” her voice breaks as she begins to desperately sob. Despite her obvious desire to avoid contact, she leans into Eric and he pulls her into his chest. Tal and Bentley stand stock still, absorbing this information. Since she can remember? Could it possibly be true that these children somehow remained alive...on their own? How? And why? And what possible reason could there be for them to even be out here in the first place? Questions swirl in my thoughts, and the most disconcerting realization is that there may not be anyone to answer them.

  Chapter 100

  “We can’t just leave them like this,” Tal asserts, following us out into the fresh air. Through the door, we can hear the children gratefully digging into the food that we brought for them. I am already certain that we didn’t bring enough.

  “I know, Tal,” Eric says, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Just let us talk for a minute so we can figure this out.”

  Tal nods anxiously and moves to join Bentley, who is tossing sticks at a makeshift target.

  “He’s right,” I sigh. “I can’t leave here knowing that these children are fending for themselves. What have we gotten ourselves into?”

  “I know, I feel the same way,” Eric agrees. “But what are our potential options?”

  “Bring them home with us?” I suggest. “That’s the only thing I’ve come up with so far.”

  “I thought about that, but we don’t have room—”

  “We could build another shelter—”

  “I thought of that too, but what about our supplies? It seems that we have plenty now, but that has to last us for...well, who knows how long. For the rest of Tal and Bentley’s lives? If we divvy that up between…” he trails off, running his hands through his hair.

  “I know, Eric. It won’t last long, especially as all of these kids become adults. But I don’t know what else to do. We can build another shelter, and we would have more hands to help, so we could grow more food and hopefully not need to dig into the rations as we get better at it.”

  “But if we have more harvest years like the last—”

  “I don’t think we will. This year everything seems to have gone well, right?”

  “Kate...you’re ignoring the fact that these kids…”

  Again, his voice peters out, and I look at him questioningly, not following. What is he not saying?

  Eric lowers his voice. “They’re Tier 3, Kate. It’s not like we would be bringing in children with...a similar mindset. And they haven’t even had any role models, their conditioning—” He catches himself, turning from me, shoving his hands in his back pockets. When he doesn’t continue, I move close and wrap my arms around his waist, holding my body to his back. His chest expands as he takes in a slow breath.

  “I’m not trying to say—”

  “I know,” I confirm softly.

  “It’s just—”

  “I know, Eric. It scares me, too. And I know you feel the pressure of having to provide for us already, let alone these other children. I have no idea what kind of issues these kids would be bringing with them, you’re right about that, too. But I can’t in good conscience—”

  “I know, me neither,” he agrees, turning toward me and pulling me to his chest.

  “So what do we do?” I murmur, my breath warming his shirt, continuing to rapidly search my mind for possible solutions. I have no experience with Tier 3 in the first place, and these children have basically raised themselves. Who knows what extra trauma they have experienced in this situation? But...they did raise themselves. They survived and somehow took care of each other. I wouldn’t have ever expected that to be possible.

  “Eric—”

  “Maybe we stay,” Eric says, both of us speaking over each other.

  “What?” I ask, wondering if I heard him correctly.

  “We could stay for a day or two. Give us more time to think. I could help fix up the place a bit and help build up their food stores. It would also give us the opportunity to observe and have a better idea of...what we’d potentially be getting into.”

  “I think it’s a great idea,” I say, “I just don’t know logistically...where would we stay exactly?”

  “We can make a shelter if need be. I brought some extra supplies in my pack.”

  “You did?”

  “Always prepared,” he answers humbly, smiling.

  Bentley and Tal catch my eye. They are huddled together near a large pine tree, their heads close together as if in serious conversation.

  “Should we put them out of their misery?” Eric laughs, and I nod. “Boys, you can come over now,” he shouts, motioning for them to join us. They nearly tumble over each other as they run in our direction. Eric squats to their level before speaking.

  “What do you boys think about all of this?”

  “How are they surviving?” Tal asks seriously. “They don’t have any resources or help.”

  Bentley nods, his eyes pleading for answers.

  “I honestly don’t know,” I answer, shaking my head. “Dad and I are absolutely as shocked as you are.”

  “We have to do something,” Bentley adds quietly, and Eric places a hand on his shoulder.

  “I know, bud. We came to the same conclusion. Bu
t doing something is going to require sacrifice on our part. Are you willing to do that?”

  They both nod excitedly, their expressions eager.

  “Alright, then,” Eric says, resuming an upright position. “Tal, you and Bent need to scout out a good spot for a shelter.” He barely finishes his sentence before both boys march purposefully to the edge of the clearing.

  Eric grips my hand, and we move toward the building.

  “Do we think this idea is going to go over well with Rose?”

  Eric chuckles. “Doubtful? But here’s hoping.”

  Chapter 101

  Inside, the children are winding down—some licking their fingers, a few still picking at the salted meat in the center of the table. They turn our direction when we enter the room and it’s like looking at a macabre painting. Not one of them moves.

  “Thank you,” Rose breaks the awkward pause softly, her eyes wide and innocent. When she speaks, the children seem to relax.

  “Did everyone get enough?” I ask, wondering at the lack of leftovers. Their heads nod in unison.

  “I’m glad,” Eric says, moving toward the table. The children scatter—like ripples reacting to a thrown rock. He leans his hands on the table and lowers his head to meet Rose’s eyes.

  “Rose, you and your...family have done an incredible job looking after each other. We are more than impressed,” he admits genuinely. A small smile plays at the corner of her lips as she listens, and she links her hands behind her back, her chest protruding proudly.

  “While we have no doubt that you are capable of continuing on like this, we can also see that it hasn’t been—nor will it become—easy,” Eric continues. “Kate and I can’t in good conscience leave you here alone,” he finishes glancing around the table.

  “What d’you mean?” Rose asks, alarm evident in her tone. “You can’t call—”

  “We aren’t going to call anyone, Rose,” Eric assures her, standing to his full height. “I know you’re worried about losing your family, and I can’t speak to what happened in the past. I only know that we promised we wouldn’t cause trouble, and we plan on keeping our word. But, we also can’t have you starving out here.”

  Rose stares at him, unmoving.

  “Would it be okay if we stayed the night?” he continues. “We have supplies for our own shelter, you wouldn’t need to worry about us. But if it’s alright with you, we’d like to be here a little longer, at least. It would give us some time to help you find food and figure out what will be best moving forward.”

  “What’s best is for you to leave us alone,” Rose replies flatly. The older children tense instantaneously, but the younger ones lower their heads, almost in disappointment.

  “Rose,” I say moving next to Eric, “we don’t want to infringe on anything that you’ve built here. We aren’t going to tell you what to do or how to do it. But, we are adults. We have been educated, and we have experience. We simply want to do what’s right. We can help,” I suggest, pausing. Then more forcefully, “Now that we’re here, I think we have a responsibility to help.”

  Rose’s eyes flit between the young children’s hopeful expressions, then motions for the older three to join her in a small huddle at the end of the table. They whisper to one another, the room silent except for their lowered voices. Eventually, their shoulders move apart and Rose turns to face us.

  “Okay,” she agrees. “But we don’t have to do anything unless we want to.”

  Eric nods. “Sounds good to me. We’ll be outside if you need us. In the morning, I can take you and anyone else who would like to come along on a scavenging run. Hopefully show you some more food options you may not have considered.” Smiling, he turns and reaches for me, and we exit the shelter together.

  Tal and Bentley wave to us immediately as we enter the yard, obviously eager to show us their camping spot. The sun hangs low in the evening sky, illuminating the meadow in soft, golden light. The chill of this morning still lingers, but the sun has taken some of the edge off. Clouds hang ominously on the horizon, and I am nervous about rain hitting again overnight, knowing how exposed we’ll be. While I’m sure Eric has the supplies we need, I don’t relish the idea of waking up wet and cold. Eric, seemingly in tune with my thoughts, squeezes my hand and pulls me along.

  “We cleared the ground, Dad,” Bentley announces proudly.

  “I can see that,” Eric answers with a chuckle. “You’ve done well.”

  Bentley beams, and Tal approaches to help Eric remove the cuben fiber shelter—another gift in the supplies from Nick—and retractable poles from his pack. Thankfully, this model is fully enclosed and any worries about weather slip from my mind. The boys quickly work together and a small, silver tent materializes within minutes.

  “I know it won’t be as comfortable as at home, but at least it will be cozy,” Eric muses, tying the fly into place.

  “Looks perfect,” I say gratefully.

  “Here, Bent, can you inflate these pillows and lay out our blankets?” Eric requests, handing him a small bag with neatly folded mylar sheets. He slowly climbs through the opening and begins to exhale rapidly into a slim, flat, rectangular package.

  The air becomes frigid the instant the sun goes below the horizon, and we all scramble into our blankets, closing the shelter behind us. Within minutes, I am much more comfortable, and Eric reaches up to open a vent in the top of the tent. Not surprisingly, Tal and Bentley are asleep nearly instantaneously, but I have a harder time quieting my mind.

  “What are you thinking about?” Eric asks, pulling me close.

  It takes a moment for the words to coalesce. “I can’t stop wondering if there are more of them out there,” I sigh finally.

  “Tier 3?”

  I nod against his chest. “How could Berg, in good conscience, leave children alone out here to fend for themselves?”

  Eric doesn’t answer.

  “You do think they knew, right? How could they not?”

  “They knew,” he agrees. “I have to believe that they did everything they could. If these families were actively fighting—”

  “We wouldn’t have done anything different.”

  Eric is silent.

  “If we help them—”

  “We are perpetuating a gene pool that has been deemed a threat to our survival as a species. Expressly deviating from our beliefs and even my life’s work,” Eric finishes.

  That last sentence hits us both hard. “Exactly.”

  “And yet…”

  “We can’t not help them.”

  Eric brushes his fingers along my temple, tracing my face. “Sleep. We’ll figure this out in the morning,” he assures me. Trusting his words, I close my eyes and drift.

  Chapter 102

  Waking, I roll to my back, my shoulder stiff from being pressed against the ground. Though the earth is soft and spongy here, it’s not nearly as forgiving as our bed at home. Registering the silence around me, I survey the tent and find that I am the only current occupant. Checking the sensor, I am shocked to find that it’s already eight in the morning. The boys probably left hours ago to find food and I must’ve slept right through their departure.

  Pulling the sheet off, I sit upright and begin to dress in an extra layer of clothes. It’s warm now, but as soon as I zip open the door...I know I’ll be grateful for the added protection. Sure enough, the cool, damp morning air hits my face, shocking me into alertness as I step from the tent. A low mist hangs heavy in the yard, magnifying the incredible stillness. Breathing deeply, I jump—my adrenaline spiking—as a sparrow flits above my head and breaks the silence. Just the push I needed.

  Walking determinedly, I climb the steps and knock on the door. There isn’t any audible movement within the house, and I’m about to turn back when the latch clicks. Rose answers the door hesitantly.

  “Is everyone still sleeping in there?” I ask, mostly joking, but honestly beginning to wonder. I don’t know why I assumed they would keep the same schedule as my boys.


  “No. Ev’ryone is off with Eric.”

  I nod, still separated from her by the screen. “You didn’t want to go?”

  Her eyes lower. “Someone needed to do the chores.”

  “Well that was very kind of you to stay back. Can I help?”

  Her posture immediately stiffens.

  “Not that I think you need any help,” I hedge, “I am just...kind of bored,” I admit, shrugging my shoulders.

  She searches my expression. “Okay,” she says finally, pushing the door on its hinges. Entering the house, I wipe my shoes on the threadbare rug, trying to remove excess moisture. Though it makes me uncomfortable, I can’t quite bring myself to take them off here.

  “Put me to work,” I command, stretching my arms to the sides. “What can I do?”

  “I’m used to doing all the reg’lar chores,” she says slowly. “I don’t really know what else—”

  My head involuntarily cocks to one side. Is it just me, or is her speech improving? I shake it off.

  “How about you just show me where your cleaning supplies are and I’ll start somewhere,” I offer gently.

  Nodding, she starts toward the kitchen, and I follow. Under the sink, she shows me a pile of rags—mostly pieces of old clothing, from the looks of it—and a tall, glass jar.

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  “Vinegar.”

  Ah. That explains the smell I noticed yesterday. “Is this what you use to clean?” I ask, and she nods. “Where do you get it?”

  She picks up the jar and points to a shimmering, gelatinous disc floating on the surface of the pale liquid. “She makes it,” Rose says simply.

  I nod, taking the jar from her and standing up. “Do I need to pour some into another jar to use it? I don’t want to hurt her.”

  “You won’t hurt her. But I like to pour some into one of these—” she says, reaching for a glass bottle on one of the shelves, “—and then add water. Otherwise it’s strong.”