by Alice Sabo
By the time they reached the top, Ted could hear the sound of young voices. He trailed Toad across the wide expanse of the maintenance shed in the weak light coming from the entrance. There were wheels and hoses, pipes and benches with racks of tools. Toad detoured around things as though he’d worked there for years. Ted wondered about his eyesight because Toad was obviously functioning at a higher level.
Behind a rusted old hulk, a row of workbenches backed on to a narrow hallway. Down the hallway was a row of doors. Ted saw a thin sliver of light shining under one. Toad chose that one and entered without any hesitation. Ted hurried to join him.
Inside was a large break room with six big tables, brightly colored plastic chairs, an old refrigerator, lockers and a sink. Nixie had turned on the overhead lights. The room felt too bright to Ted’s eyes. The children sat at the tables waiting patiently. Toad carried his sack over to Nixie, who had once again set up her hotplate. Ted let out a sigh of relief. They would all have a good breakfast.
“I’ll check our back trail,” he said. He stood in the hallway waiting for his eyes to readjust to the dim light. This seemed like a good place for them to hole up for awhile. They could wait out the storm with no one the wiser. He went back to the stairwell. He could just make out the footprints of the children in the old grime on the floor. He peered into the darkness, checking for any trail they’d left, but the children had scattered across the floor leaving scores of scuffs and shuffles. There wasn’t a lot to disguise. A damp breeze blew in from the big door, swirling dust and a mist of rain across the room. The weather might do his work for him.
He shifted things on wheels into the path they’d taken. Then he moved some junk to partially block the hallway. He found a pile of tarps and dragged one down the hall to block the light from under the door. Ted went in, blinking in the bright light. The room smelled of Stew-goo. There was another door at the back of the room. Ted peeked through to find another, smaller hallway. This one had restrooms and storerooms. He checked out the men’s room, delighted to find showers. He poked around, checking to see if the water still ran and if it would get hot. The pipes grumbled before spitting out some stagnant smelling water. After they ran for a little bit, the water got hot.
By the time he returned, Nixie was dishing out breakfast. He looked at all the little ones lined up, bowls in hand, intense looks on their faces as they watched Nixie fill each bowl ahead of them. “There’s plenty for all of us,” Ted said. And he planned to make sure that was true.
Chapter 15
“With our normal infrastructure gone, those of us left behind had to deal with the uncertainties of life in the day to day. Water and electricity was still available in most places. Food was the main concern. Most grocery stores had been looted or abandoned due to lack of staff. Farmers tried to bring produce into towns to sell but quickly learned that looters, gangs and just plain hysteria made it too dangerous.”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
TILLY WAS STILL AWAKE in the wee hours of the morning when the alarms went off. She knew the different sounds now. This was the tunnel alarm, which meant someone had entered the storm shelter beneath the school. She peered out into the hallway to find the members of the Watch, carrying weapons, hurrying past. Angus was still in the infirmary. Their quarters were too empty for her to sleep there. She knew that the alarm would wake her husband, so she went to his office, got a radio and headed to the infirmary.
Halfway there, she met Nick looking sleep-rumpled, but alert. He joined her without a word. She wasn’t surprised to hear Angus’s voice as they entered the infirmary. He was arguing with Dr. Jameson.
“Quiet down,” Tilly called out. She held up the radio.
“Thank you, my dear, that is exactly what I was asking for.” He took the radio with a pleased look. “Nicky, please.” He gestured to chairs, then called Martin.
“I’m just getting there now,” Martin responded.
“Should we evacuate up to the chapel?” Tilly asked in a low voice. She didn’t want to wake all the children, but she would if needed. Since the first attack, they had run another drill. She made sure to pair all the newcomers with residents who knew what to do when the alarms went off. Martin had the whole Watch working shifts to fortify the tunnels that went into the storm shelter. Kyle had promised to work on some sort of bombs. She shivered. She desperately hoped that things wouldn’t get that dire, but Martin was always happier with more weapons.
Angus reached for her hand. “Wait ‘til we hear from Martin. It could be one person, lost in the storm.”
“Not raiders,” she said, hearing the tremor in her voice. She needed to be calmer when she spoke to others. She took a deep breath, ignoring Nick’s look of concern.
The radio clicked. Angus held it out, including Tilly and Nick.
“Looks like a group of people,” Martin’s deep voice rumbled. “I’m taking a couple men to go out and talk to them.”
Tilly looked at Nick’s scowl and Angus’s frown. “Maybe refugees?” she asked hopefully.
Nick looked past her shoulder and nodded. She turned to see Wisp coming in. One of the bonuses of having the Watch scouring the lower levels was the discovery of a small passageway to Wisp’s quarters in the field house. Now he could come and go despite the conditions outside.
“Problem?” Wisp asked.
“People in the storm shelter. Martin’s checking it out,” Nick reported
“Should I go?”
“I would appreciate your impressions of them,” Angus said.
Wisp nodded to each of them before leaving. Tilly noticed that he didn’t look like he’d been asleep. She hadn’t either, but worrying about Angus had kept her awake. She wondered what he might worry about. “Does he sleep in his clothes?” she asked Nick.
Nick shrugged, which morphed into a stretch and yawn. “Don’t know. Why? You want to get him some pajamas?” he bantered back.
Tilly didn’t take the bait, too shook up to play. “He just looks like he was awake.”
“He’s worried about his brother, Theta,” Angus said. “I think he will be leaving us for a bit.”
Tilly didn’t like hearing about anyone leaving. She chided herself for being a territorial old biddy. “But he will be coming back, right?”
Angus pointedly glanced to Nick.
“Why am I the specialist?” Nick groused. “I think he likes it here.”
The radio clicked. “Looks like our refugees have arrived. Better let Tilly know,” Martin said.
“Wisp is on his way.”
“He’s here. And he confirmed what we already figured out. They’re spooked. Didn’t like seeing our guns. Just want to wait out the storm and move on.”
“Where are they going?” Tilly asked.
“Didn’t say.”
“If Wisp thinks they’re harmless, should we let them into the shelter?” Angus asked.
“Don’t want to come in any further,” Martin said. “I told them they could use the cots in the storm shelter, and they got a little squirrelly. They just want to hunker down in the tunnel for the night.”
“Can’t blame people for wanting to be careful,” Nick said. “If they’re still there in the morning, we can invite them for breakfast.” He looked a question at Tilly.
“Yes, of course. I’ll have a big breakfast ready. How many are there?”
She heard a mumble in the distance. “Wisp says he counts nine adults and six children.”
Tilly left the men to natter over logistics, security and access points while she headed to the kitchen. It wasn’t too early to start getting things prepped for breakfast. She needed to look over the supplies to see what could be spared in case the refugees wanted to barter for something. They could always use a few extra hands in the fields if they wanted to offer labor for food. She didn’t think they should ask for anything in return for the train food they had stockpiled. It was meant to be free, even though no one could get to it any more.
&nbs
p; The storm rumbled overhead. She checked at the hallway boards to see if there was a forecast posted. There hadn’t been anything more on the ether since that one storm warning the day they had discovered the children from Barberry Cove. She clenched her teeth thinking about that day. The thought that they might have shut them outside in that storm still haunted her. If Angus hadn’t asked Wisp to do a search for anyone nearby, they wouldn’t have found the children. With the storm shutters lowered, from inside the building, they were blind. She’d insisted on a doorbell, which had made Martin laugh.
Mary was setting out their meager stocks of flour and oil when Tilly arrived at the kitchen. She shook her head at Tilly. “I’d say you were up early, but I think you haven’t slept, yet.” Her black hair was caught up in a lopsided bun and her brown eyes showed concern.
Tilly sighed. “No. The bed was too empty.” She patted her own lank white hair wondering how ragged she looked.
Mary offered her a sympathetic smile. “I can understand that.”
“We have some guests in the tunnel.”
Mary’s eyes widened. “I thought I heard the alarm, but there wasn’t any announcement.” She hugged her swollen belly.
Tilly put a hand up to stop her before she got too worked up. “Refugees. I think we need to make extra food this morning.”
Mary leaned against the work table, relief in the curve of her shoulders . “That I can do.”
Chapter 16
“It took awhile for the remnants of the government to come to terms with the new reality. Many politicians mouthed platitudes and assumed we would emerge into a familiar world. Some tried to take advantage of the situation, but the economy was teetering and people had no tolerance for grandstanding.”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
BY THE TIME MARY HAD the biscuits in the oven, Tilly had a plan. Angus was asleep by then, so she told Nick that she wanted to speak with the refugees. He followed her down to the staging area, where they made their way through the maze to meet with Martin and Wisp who waited at the entrance to the tunnel. Tilly glanced back over the heaps of rock and tree trunks that the Watch had hauled in to create the defensive tangle. It had worked as planned during the attack last week, slowing and isolating the raiders. Men had died here, luckily none of them were hers. Those men hadn’t needed to attack. If they had come asking for food and shelter, High Meadow would gladly give it. They had wanted a good deal more than that.
Apparently her inspection of the staging area had taken too long. Martin touched her arm. “Tilly?”
She shook herself out of her morbid musings. “Have you spoken to them?” Tilly asked Wisp.
“No. I got impressions from in here.”
“We’re not being very friendly,” she scolded.
Martin gave her a glum face. “Better safe...”
Tilly waved away his platitudes, marching to the door into the tunnel with the three men on her heels. The glass had been darkened so that people couldn’t see in, but that meant she couldn’t see out either. She knocked, no reason not to be polite. Wisp gave her a nod.
She hauled opened the heavy steel door. “Hello?” Her voice echoed down the length of the tunnel. Harsh overhead lighting showed her a wide, barren passage with a similar bank of doors at the far end. Concrete and tile made the space cold and utilitarian. The access tunnel traveled under the school and some houses coming out in the next street over. Halfway down, a small camp sat to one side. A tidy line of tents backed up to the wall with three small carts parked at the far end.
A stocky man in his forties was already on his way toward them. “Yes?”
She walked down to meet him, feeling Nick shadowing her. Tilly smiled, holding out her hand. “I’m Tilly. I wanted to give you a better welcome to High Meadow.”
He took her hand and bowed over it. “I am Istvan,” he said, pronouncing it Easht-vahn. He had big brown eyes and curly brown hair. His face was drawn, but there were smile lines around his eyes.
“I’m sorry that the Watch met you first, but unfortunately we have learned that not all visitors are friendly,” Tilly said.
“We do not mean to intrude here, but the storm was too much for us.”
“No, no, you are welcome to stay as long as you need. I have some breakfast cooking upstairs if you would like to come up. We have coffee and tea,” she added for encouragement. She saw his eyes flick toward the camp and then back to her.
“Coffee?”
“Yes, we trade with a settlement on the coast that, um, gets some,” she stumbled over the information suddenly realizing that she could get others in trouble. She wouldn’t want to endanger any other settlement by letting people know their treasures.
“I haven’t had coffee in a long time.”
“We have potatoes and eggs this morning,” Tilly said. “Martin said there were children with you. Please bring them all up to the cafeteria. Mary made some biscuits, too.”
Istvan took a step back, appraising her. “Eggs and flour? You are a very lucky settlement.”
A moment of panic shivered her heart. Had she let the cat out of the bag? She was trying to be nice, and instead she’d told him about their staples. The door opened behind her, and Wisp stepped up next to her. She assumed he’d felt her unease. His solid presence beside her was reassuring.
Istvan stared at Wisp, his eyes traveled to the tattoo on his neck and back up to Wisp’s face. “Are you the Finder?”
“I am. This is a safe place. These people are good.”
Tilly forced a chuckle. “Not a man of many words, our Wisp.” That Istvan knew of Wisp surprised Tilly. She knew he kept a low profile. It had never occurred to her that he had a reputation.
Istvan looked back at her. “You have food to spare?”
“Gladly,” Tilly asserted.
Istvan turned back toward the camp. “Rosa! We are being invited to breakfast.”
It took a bit more encouragement before the whole camp sorted itself out to follow Tilly up the stairs. She overlooked the blousy jackets that might hide a weapon because Wisp stood there, calmly nodding as people passed him. She didn’t think he would allow anyone of ill intent into the building. Rosa, a short, solid looking woman hurried over to walk with Tilly.
“He said eggs. You have eggs?” Rosa asked as they climbed the stairs.
“We have a small flock of chickens.”
“Chickens!” Rosa grabbed her arm. “I will see what we have to barter. Maybe we could get a few chickens?”
“I’m not sure how many we have to spare,” Tilly said evasively. It hadn’t occurred to her to barter the animals. She’d have to speak with Larson as to whether he thought they could give some away.
“A rooster would be good, too.”
“I’ll have to check on that.”
“And biscuits? How are you making biscuits?”
“We had a small crop of wheat this spring. I’m afraid that we aren’t very good farmers. But we have some new residents who know a bit more. I think we’ll do a lot better next year.”
“Wheat. That is good.”
Tilly could sense that Rosa was measuring and calculating in her head. What the end result would be, she had no idea. She admired the woman, but also wondered if she was a thief. They were learning hard lessons about their own naiveté. She was coming to understand that High Meadow had been uncommonly fortunate for the past five years.
The children marched in a silent clump surrounded by their elders, except for one babe in arms and a toddler riding a man’s shoulders. Normally Tilly would assume it was his father, but the world had changed, and families had acclimated. Tilly wondered that the children could stay so quiet. It worried her. Had she misinterpreted their reticence? Perhaps they didn’t want others in their business for nefarious reasons. Tilly wouldn’t abide any mistreatment of children.
By the time they entered the main hallway, the settlement’s residents were up and about. Kids raced around the hallways. Good smells wafted out
of the cafeteria. Tilly felt more at ease. This would tell their visitors more about who they were than any amount of discussion.
The small Fonts, Elsa and Dieter came into the hallway, hand in hand, just ahead of Tilly and her guests. Automatically, the biobots backed to the wall, to let the group pass them.
“New people,” Dieter observed, head tipped back to scrutinize them.
“Just passing through,” Istvan corrected.
Dieter frowned, but Elsa looked glad to see them. “Always nice to meet new folks.” She gave them a practiced curtsy.
“What are they?” Rosa asked under her breath as they passed. Her eyes wide with curiosity as she craned her neck to watched the small people.
“Dieter and Elsa are teachers,” Tilly said watching her tongue. “We have a school here for the children.” Wisp had advised not letting anyone know that they were Fonts. He had warned that it could make them a prize worth kidnapping. In a time when skills were being lost, the Fonts, with the storehouse of knowledge built into their brains, were priceless.
A scrawny woman with a dark scowl snorted. “You pretend that the world hasn’t ended.” She hunched bony shoulders and flicked a lock of thin black hair, liberally streaked with gray, out of her eyes.
“Oh, we know very well that the world is not what it was,” Tilly replied sourly. “We’re just trying to plan for the future.”
“If there is one.”
“Susanna,” Istvan snapped. “Keep your bitterness inside.”
Tilly wasn’t sure how to respond, but Lily saved her from needing to.
“Tilly, Tilly!” The little girl skipped up to her. “Who are they?” She didn’t stop for an answer as she danced in front of Rosa. “I’m Lily and my brother is William, and we found our mom.”
Rosa turned her attention to the child. “That’s wonderful!”