Scattered Seeds
Page 5
She rounded up the children and brought them up to the room. They moved obediently without questioning the change. Then she went out to hide the cart. When she came back, Ted relaxed, feeling foolish. He’d made everyone move because the sound of the wind had spooked him. He left the children bedding down to head back to the washrooms to indulge in a hot shower. He was almost to the stairs when he heard voices. Men. At least two of them. He crept back down the hallway, hiding in the shadows.
Three men tromped down the stairs from the maintenance garage carrying flashlights. They laughed together over a mumbled joke. Ted stayed silent, not moving, hugging the wall.
“I’m telling you somebody’s been in here,” a whiny voice complained.
“So?”
“This is ours.”
“Yeah, well, next time you can stay here and watch over it.”
Then they were out of range for Ted to hear clearly. He waited, wondering if they lived here or just took the food. He should have realized that others could come in the same way they had. Slowly, he moved back to the room. Nixie waited just outside the room full of children, eyes wide in the dim light of the candle lantern she held.
“I’ll look for another way out,” she whispered.
Ted watched her ghost away down the hall. The men might not know about this room. They might only care about food and hot water and a safe place to sleep out of the weather. A boom of thunder overhead meant they had to stay the night. He couldn’t take the children out into the storm. If Nixie didn’t find another way out, he needed to find a way to bar the entrance to this room. His heart pounded a little harder as he thought about all the young lives he had to protect.
Chapter 12
“We lost the trappings of civilization while responding to the crisis. Like a magician’s trick, we focused on the flash and missed the switch. When the streets were unsafe, no one noticed that the busses had stopped running. When people were looting grocery stores and stockpiling food, no one noticed farms, mills and factories were failing. Somehow we were always looking in the wrong direction.”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
NICK HELPED HIMSELF to another cup of tea before returning to his table. The cafeteria was quiet, despite the rumblings of the storm. Dinner over, a few residents lingered over tea, chatting amiably. He was making lists and sorting through what he might need when they went to find the missing people from Barberry Cove. Regardless of Angus’s denial, that had to be a priority. The children had settled in as best as they could. Tilly made them comfortable, but they all wanted their parents.
That day would haunt Nick for a long time. If not for Wisp, they wouldn’t have known about the parade of children stumbling through the storm towards High Meadow. Children leading toddlers and youngsters with babies, he shook his head to loosen the image, anger burning in his chest.
Nick needed to know why those people had been taken. It didn’t make sense. Why take the adults and abandon the children? If they were press gangs, what did they need the extra hands for? Angus wanted some answers before he sent Nick and Wisp out, but they needed to go to find the answers. It was circular logic that Angus said would just make him crazy. And he was right.
Wisp came into the cafeteria. That meant he wanted to talk to Nick because Wisp didn’t need to look for people, he always knew where they were. With his foot, Nick nudged out the chair across from him. Wisp came over and sat down.
“Problem?” Nick asked.
“I need to leave for awhile,” Wisp said.
“You’re going after the pressgangs on your own?” Nick’s blood pressure went up a notch. He wondered what would happen if he disregarded Angus’s orders and left with Wisp.
Wisp shook his head. “I need to find Theta. I will leave tomorrow as soon as the storm clears.”
That wasn’t at all what Nick wanted to hear. “Will you be coming back?” It occurred to him how one-sided the relationship seemed. Wisp brought food in almost every day. He was a peerless fighter. He rounded up lost children and kittens. They gave back hot meals and shelter. Nick wondered if it would be enough.
“It depends on what Theta needs.”
“This is a good place,” Nick asserted.
“It is. I need to find out if this is a good place for him.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
Wisp remained quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “You gave me the place in the field house to accommodate my needs. Theta may need some accommodation, but I don’t know what that is yet.
“Why,” Nick asked. “Is he like you?”
Wisp hesitated again, giving Nick the feeling that he was deciding if he should share the information. He waited, hoping he would pass the test of trust. When those pale eyes looked up, Nick knew he had.
“Theta had a breakdown. His keepers decided to take him anyway. He was going to a mental hospital. They took him in as a patient.”
Nick didn’t like the sound of that. Biobots were trained for everything from babysitters to assassins. “Guns and knives kind of breakdown?”
“Mostly sitting in the corner and not speaking for days.” Wisp looked away. “He was never violent. Theta is a scholar, a researcher. He is most happy surrounded by books.”
“Not people,” Nick extrapolated. “You think he might be unstable.”
Wisp shook his head. “I don’t believe him to be a threat to the people here. I just don’t know if he would be happy in a place like this.”
“Where would you take him if he isn’t?”
“I asked Kyle to research that.”
Nick chuckled. “Good idea. How long will you be gone?”
“I think he’s close. It shouldn’t take more than two weeks to walk to him. If he wants to come here, we can start back immediately.”
“Almost a month,” Nick grumbled. He had found himself relying on Wisp regularly. He knew that Martin would be upset, too. Having someone around who could sense ill intent was a blessing. They could get Wisp to walk past any new arrivals and know immediately if anyone was up to no good.
“I must do it,” Wisp stated.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t. I just wish you weren’t going to be gone so long.” Nick poked his papers. “Which direction you heading? Can you stop in at Creamery on the way back?”
“No. He’s due west. Right along the train line.”
“Huh. Must be around Clarkeston. Did you check in with the Watch that’s been out there?”
Wisp nodded. “Nothing to report. Theta wasn’t trained as I was, but I assume he’s keeping out of sight. He is tattooed.” Wisp pointed to the large numbers on his neck that told of his maker and design.
“Biobot on his own,” Nick added. “Gotta be scary. Maybe that’s what you’re feeling.”
“Possibly. But it has escalated in the past few days.”
“You’re worried.”
“Yes.”
“You want me to tell Angus that you’re going?”
“Does he have immediate need for me?”
“I’m sure he has all sorts of needs,” Nick said with a fond smile. “But you don’t have to walk. And you don’t have to go alone. You and I can take a van. It’ll cut the time gone significantly.”
“I would appreciate the van. I’m not sure how Theta would react to you.”
“You haven’t seen him in how long? You can’t know how he will react to you.”
“True.”
“We can take one of the old ones. The big black ones scare everybody,” Nick said. The promise of action, any action, had improved his mood immensely. “We’ll park it before we get close, and you can go find him on your own. You’re sure he won’t be dangerous?”
Wisp’s blue eyes were sad. “Theta was never dangerous.”
Chapter 13
“Many people fled from a home full of bodies, or an apartment building reeking of death. Not only did we lose our loved ones, we lost our homes.”
History of a Changed World, An
gus T. Moss
TED LAY DOWN ACROSS the threshold, ears alert for footsteps. A candle lantern shed the tiniest glow in the dark room. Nixie slept next to him, a broom handle within reach. His eyes kept returning to that stick of wood. Nixie was prepared to fight. He wasn’t. He’d never had that kind of training. It wasn’t what he was meant to do. He was weak and clumsy. At times like this, he felt especially useless. All he could do was hide the children to keep them safe. If the men came looking, he planned to bar the door and hope they wouldn’t wait them out.
That thought made him do a mental inventory. He’d trained the children to fill their canteens as soon as they had access to safe water. Had they all done that? Had Nixie filled the water jugs they carried in the cart for the littlest ones? He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. He was a fool. Anyone could come in the same way they did. He should have scouted it better. Set up in a more defensible area. All his second guessing chewed away at him, keeping him from sleep.
The children were restless. He could hear them shifting in their blankets. He forced his breathing to slow down. They could sense his fear. These feral children, too long on their own, could read him easily. Long slow breaths. It helped calm him. A child sighed. Another started snoring softly. Honest fatigue from a long day of dragging the cart finally won.
TED WOKE TO THE SOUND of gunfire. Enfilade, salvo, volley, the words bloomed in his startled mind before he registered his surroundings. A few whimpers let him know that the children were awake, too.
“Not close,” Nixie whispered.
The candle had burned out. Ted couldn’t see her in the total darkness of the room, but she sounded calm. “No,” he agreed.
Another spatter of shots was punctuated by a scream. More shots. An angry shout, the words blurred by distance. Then silence. Ted forced himself to breathe. He counted to ten, then a hundred. No more sounds.
“Should I go look?” Nixie asked.
He wanted to say yes. He licked dry lips with a tongue like leather. “I’ll go.” He folded his blanket, handed it to Nixie, took a few deep breaths, then opened the door. A faint light came from down the hallway, enough to see that it was empty.
“Get the children ready, we may need to get out of here fast.”
Nixie nodded, watchful eyes scanning the hall past his shoulder.
Ted tentatively stepped out of the room. He wondered why Nixie stayed with him. She was better at everything than he was. He relied on her more than he should. Nixie was strong and capable. She would have marched down the corridor, broomstick in hand. With that image in his mind, as quietly as possible, he crept down the hall to the stairs. He listened, straining his ears, but there were just the sounds of the air vents. Feeling a little bolder, he walked to the secret entrance and peeked into the blinding brightness on the other side. Nothing. More silence. He was listening so hard, he could hear his blood whooshing through his veins.
He eased through the door. The men must have shoved it wider because it was almost fully open. He stood in the brilliant light of the shelter area waiting to hear a voice or another gunshot. Nothing. A quick glance around the cubby area showed him it was empty. He paused at the entrance to the washrooms, still no sounds. Bravely he entered and checked the stalls and showers. They were empty, too. Back out in the passage, he started up the stairs, placing each foot down mindful of making any noise. Then he heard a groan. It was the sound of someone in pain.
Quickly, but quietly, he ascended the stairs to the lobby. Despite the macabre scene before him, the situation was better than he had feared. Five men down. Five guns scattered as they were dropped. Four were clearly dead, lying in pools of their own blood. The fifth was alive, dragging himself across the floor, a dark trail of blood behind him. Ted was struck speechless for a moment. The man still alive wore a gray, military style uniform.
“Oh no!” Ted ran over to the wounded soldier. “Oh no, oh no.”
The soldier raise a knife toward Ted in a shaky hand.
Ted stumbled to a halt. “I wouldn’t hurt you. How could I hurt anyone? How can I help?”
The soldier applied pressure to a bloody wound in his side with his right hand. The left had the knife. He tipped the knife to point at his destination. A small car crouched on the train tracks. It wasn’t like a regular train car, tiny in comparison.
“Yes, yes, of course.” Ted approached slowly. He had no idea how he was going to get this man into the car. He wasn’t very strong.
The soldier jerked his knife, looking past Ted. The hair rose on the back of Ted’s neck. He turned, heart pounding, hands shaking, expecting the worst. “Toad?”
Toad stood on the edge of the platform watching him, dark eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Come help me,” Ted called. But Toad didn’t move. “Come over here!”
“Guns,” Toad said. He kicked one sending it scuttling across the floor and off the edge of the platform.
“Yes. They had guns. But look Toad, this is a soldier.” Ted pointed to the gray uniform. “He’s a good guy. Help me move him.”
“Soldier,” Toad repeated flatly.
“I’m sorry,” Ted said to the wounded man. “This will probably hurt.” He grabbed the soldier under the arms and pulled him towards the car. Although he panted and grunted, he didn’t cry out. The man was surprisingly light. Or maybe he was stronger than he realized. He hauled the soldier into the little car. It had seats for six and an open area for driving. The soldier gestured to the driver’s seat.
“Why did they close the stations?” Ted asked as he helped him into the seat.
“Don’t know.”
“Why are you here? Is it because of the men with guns?”
“No, I’m logistics.” The soldier slumped with a groan. “Manny.” He turned, pointing to the platform.
Ted looked back, surprised to see Toad dragging the other soldier over. “Is he...”
Toad tossed the body on the floor of the car. “Dead. Uniform.”
“Do you know who’s taking the adults?” Ted asked.
The soldier smeared blood on the controls as he started up the engine. “Get out. I’m closing the doors.”
Ted took a nervous leap onto the platform. Toad passed him, throwing the weapons in just before the doors slammed shut. The little car vented with a shush before zipping away. Toad glared down the empty tunnel after it.
Ted looked back at the trail of blood and the three bodies on the platform. “We need to leave.”
Chapter 14
“People ran or staggered away from their losses. As the infrastructure of our society crumbled, travel became more difficult. Abandoned cars blocked streets. Hotels shut down due to lack of staff. Refugees slept on the sides of the road. Finally, the government had the train lines open their storm shelters for emergency housing.”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
TED’S HEART POUNDED in his chest as he hurried back to the children. How quickly would the soldier get back to his base, and how much time did they have before more soldiers came to investigate the attack? He reasoned that it would take a little time to get the story and load the soldiers. He was sweaty and breathless by the time he nipped through the back door.
“What?” Nixie met him on the stairs.
“Soldiers killed the men. We need to go,” Ted sputtered.
“Where are the soldiers?” she whispered.
“Gone, but not for long, I’m afraid.”
She gave him a look that made him think he’d forgotten something important. Seeing his blank look, she elaborated. “The storm.”
Ted listened for five heartbeats. Thunder rumbled almost on cue. “We can go back down to that big place where we came in. I don’t think it’s safe to stay here right now. And as soon as it stops raining, we have to leave.”
Nixie looked at him for one more minute. Ted couldn’t read her face, but he knew she was as disappointed as he was. He had hoped this would be a safe place, and once again, he was wrong.
A feather-soft breeze smelling of dust and hot metal wafted against his sweaty cheek. Was it the air scrubbers or a train on the tracks?
“We have to go,” he slung the sack over one shoulder, tottered slightly at the uneven weight and started across the platform.
“But all the food.” Toad pointed at the piles of unclaimed food.
Ted kept walking. Toad would either keep up or go his own way. Nixie must have finished first because there was no sign of her as he tromped back through the shelter area. Since the door was open wide, he didn’t have to shift the sack to get through, but leaving it open was an invitation for investigating. He dropped the sack to wrestle the rusty door shut. Toad squeezed through at the last minute, then helped push it all the way shut. That put the tunnel in total darkness. After the brightly lit station, Ted felt blind. He reached out in the darkness, looking for the sack.
“I’ll do it,” Toad said.
Ted heard the rustle and thump as the young man hefted it over his shoulder. He was relieved to have help. Finding his way in the dark would be hard enough without two hands to guide him. Toad didn’t seem to have that problem. Ted followed him, hoping that he was headed for the other children. They climbed two flights of stairs toward a very faint light.