Scattered Seeds

by Alice Sabo

  Toad continued to pace the room. Every now and then he would wander out into the hallway or back to the bathrooms. Ted wanted to yell at him to settle somewhere. The children were already on edge. Even though they were all in their bedrolls, small heads turned as Toad made his restive circuits. Ted lay out his blankets in front of the door, hoping that would impede some of Toad’s roaming. He took one more look at Nixie. She was pale, but her breathing sounded even. Her hand felt hot when he touched her. “Febrile,” he murmured, enjoying the use of a word overly complex for his current audience.

  Toad stiffened, turning toward the door. Two small heads popped up, clutching blankets around them. The door opened, and two men entered. Ted moved toward them, watching their hands, their eyes, peripherally aware of the children bolting behind him. All in silence. He stared at the men, but they carried only flashlights. One stood in front of the other. He was tall, broad shouldered with white hair and pale eyes, and in a flash Ted knew him.

  “Tau!” Ted stumbled across blankets to hug his brother. Tau was solid muscle, his arms thick and strong, closed around Ted’s shoulders. “Dear God you are a blessing on a dark night.” He slumped for a moment, resting his head against the powerful frame of his brother. But a tiny sniffle reminded him of his charges.

  “Come in,” he said beckoning to them. Then he remembered the second man, as big as Tau, but not as strong. Dark hair and lively green eyes, he had a kind face that Ted wanted to trust. “But...”

  “This is Nick, a friend,” Tau said. “Nick, my brother Theta.”

  “Ted,” he corrected as he shook hands with the green-eyed man. “A friend?” He shot a nervous glance at Tau. “Truly?”

  “I’m not his keeper,” Nick said.

  Ted nodded, relieved and then feeling stunned. A little hand slid into his. He looked down at Sootie, who regarded him with wide-eyed trust. “This is my brother, Tau.”

  “Wisp,” Nick interjected.

  “Wisp,” Ted said the word slowly, savoring the sound. “Lovely. And so very inappropriate,” he said squeezing his brother’s muscled shoulder.

  Sootie approached Wisp, but he took a step back and Ted remembered. He put a restraining hand on Sootie. “Wisp doesn’t like to be touched, dear one.”

  “You touched him,” Sootie countered.

  “That’s because he is my brother. He knows me.” Ted raised his eyes to look up into those pale blue ones. “You knew. You could feel my f...” He felt the children hanging on his words and modified them. “You knew I needed help.” He huffed out a weak chuckle. “Again.”

  Wisp stepped closer. “What do you need?”

  Tears stung his eyes because he knew he was saved. Wisp, brilliant, strong, warrior, would rescue him again. “I need a safe place for the children and a doctor for my Nixie.”

  “What’s a nixie?” Nick asked. He stepped closer to Wisp and spoke in an undertone, “A biobot?”

  Ted shivered as goose bumps ran down his arms. Had he misjudged things? Did Nick not know about Wisp? But there was the tattoo on his neck. He hadn’t seen Wisp in years, yet he knew he could trust him.

  Wisp took his hand. “You are safe. Nick won’t hurt you. What does nixie mean?”

  “She,” Ted said. He wobbled a little with the rush of emotions. “Nixie is my, um helper. She’s sick.” He led them across the room to Nixie’s nest, where Toad stood guard.

  “Toad this is Wisp and Nick. They will help.”

  Toad stared at them, unmoving. Ted wondered what Wisp could feel from Toad. His brother stood loosely, poised to fight or not. Power poured off him like a heady fragrance. The children watched, mesmerized by this figure of unknown authority. Ted wanted to hug him again, just to let him know how delighted he was to see him. But of course, he would feel it.

  Something passed, unseen, between Toad and Wisp, because Toad moved away. Wisp knelt next to Nixie, hand outstretched a few inches above her body.

  “Not flu,” Wisp said.

  “That’s good,” Nick grumbled.

  Nixie didn’t stir. That worried Ted. She lay there sleeping with strange men so close. He bit his lip, hoping that help had come in time.

  Wisp moved his hand down her body without touching her. He paused at her hip, then the knees, and finally pointed to her ankle. “Here.” He moved away.

  Ted knelt down at Nixie’s feet. He unlaced her boots and pulled them off. That got a mumble from her, which made him feel better. He could smell the infection. Gingerly, he peeled off her sock. She had a raw sore on her heel, swollen and oozing pus. “Oh my poor Nixie. She didn’t say anything.”

  “I’ll get the first aid kit,” Nick said.

  “I don’t suppose you have antibiotics,” Ted said as he examined the wound.

  “We have access to a doctor. We can go there tomorrow,” Wisp said.

  “All of us?” Sootie asked. She peered over the edge of the table at Ted.

  “We all travel together,” Ted said to her. He turned back to Wisp, knowing his heart was on his face.

  “High Meadow is a good place,” Wisp said. “They grow crops. They have horses and chickens.” He paused, looking to Ted before continuing. His warm, low voice had drawn the children like the pied piper. Ted reached for him, and Wisp clasped his hand, firmly but not painfully. His brother was a fortress of safety.

  “It sounds like we found The Good Place,” Ted said, his throat tight with emotion.

  A hush of indrawn breath from the children, a giggle, a small cheer. Then Nick returned with a big orange toolbox full of medical supplies, and Ted pulled his attention back to Nixie’s injury.

  Chapter 20

  “It was about that time that the government started trying to shepherd people into planned groups, but there were too many reasons that sent people running for any of them to agree on why or where to come together.”

  History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss

  WISP HAULED THE HAND cart up onto the roof of the van. Nick pushed from below, and they managed to get it situated as a cap over all the baggage. He lashed it down as Nick brought more bedding out of the maintenance facility. Rain pattered softly enough but still soaked through his clothes.

  “Wisp, do you want more Crunch?” Ted called up to him from the side of the van.

  “No. I’m good.” Wisp could feel his brother’s restlessness. He was uncertain about the trip, worried about the children and guilty about not realizing Nixie had been injured.

  “What should I do now?”

  “Put the blankets on the floor for the kids.” Wisp watched him scurry away. Ted had changed. He had been a buoyant person before Sigma was killed, a little overweight with curly black hair and hazel eyes that sparkled with intelligence. Back then he had been like Angus, bubbling over with curiosity. Now he seemed worn down, too thin for his big bones. Gray streaked his limp hair, and his weary eyes begged for help.

  Wisp yanked a knot tight and called it done. He’d already dropped all the seats into the flooring. It would be a tight squeeze getting all the children in there, and he had his doubts about the boy they called Toad.

  Ted hurried out with an armload of musty bedrolls. He stumbled over the uneven ground. It hurt to see how awkward he was. Wisp remembered how elegantly he wrote. How he loved reading. Ted looked like a show dog sent to herd sheep, baffled but diligent, doing his best at a job he had no skill for. Wisp took the blankets, laying them out on the hard floor of the cargo area.

  “Where did they all come from?” he asked in a low voice.

  Ted sagged down to sit on the bumper. “Everywhere. I don’t know. They just find me somehow.”

  “Where were you taking them?” Wisp felt the darkness of futility weighing down on Ted.

  He rubbed his face, then shrugged without looking up. “I didn’t have a plan. I was trying to find a safe place to stay, so I could look for a more permanent solution.”

  “How long has Nixie been with you?”

  Ted shot him a troubled look. “W
hy do you ask?”

  “Her parents hired me to find her.”

  Ted’s expression went from baffled to startled to pleased. “You’re the Finder! I’ve heard about you. And you’ve come to find Nixie? Are you sure? She told me her family all died.”

  “They were attacked. Some were killed but some escaped.”

  Sadness bloomed in his brother. “I will miss her. But she will be happy. I think.”

  “Khi is at High Meadow.”

  Ted’s eyes lit up. “What about Ep and Lam?”

  Wisp shook his head. “It’s a long story. High Meadow is a good place. They have a school for the children.”

  “And you live there?”

  “At the moment.”

  Ted’s emotions flattened into skepticism. “And they’ll let us all stay? So many children to care for?”

  “Tilly will insist on it,” Wisp said assuredly.

  Nick came around the side of the van carrying Nixie. She protested weakly. Sootie scampered a step behind with the rest of the children trailing after.

  “Oh, my poor Nixie.” Ted jumped out of the way.

  Nick settled Nixie into the cargo area. Children poured into the van to cluster around her. Wisp watched Ted as he counted small heads.

  “Where’s Willboy and Toad?”

  “Went to get more Stew-goo,” a little girl piped back.

  “Problem?” Wisp asked, feeling Ted’s unease skyrocket.

  Ted grabbed his arm, pulling him out of earshot. “There were men, and we hid, but some soldiers came, and they shot each other. The bodies...”

  “Stay with the children, Nick and I will check on them.”

  Ted wilted. “You can’t, you’ll never find the way. I’ll come.”

  Wisp put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I can find anyone. Get the kids packed and ready. We’ll leave as soon as we get back.”

  He didn’t tell Ted that he knew about the back entrance. He’d used this place as a stopover a few times. Wisp collected Nick, leading him into the old maintenance facility. He could sense that Nick wanted to have a word with him, and this would be the last time they’d be alone for awhile.

  “What are we looking for?” Nick asked.

  “Two kids. Ted said there were soldiers here. Killed some squatters. He’s worried about the kids seeing the bodies.”

  “Great,” Nick grumbled. “Soldiers or mercenaries?”

  “Didn’t say.”

  Wisp led the way down the stairs. “There’s a way into the station from here. Kids went to get more food.”

  They trudged down the steps in silence. Wisp led the way down the corridor. The door stood half open, letting bright light into the dark passage.

  “Nixie’s the girl, right?” Nick asked.

  “Yes.”

  “She’s a biobot isn’t she.”

  “I think so. She feels a little different. What makes you think so?”

  “Her mother said ‘she’s my flesh and blood’, she didn’t say daughter.”

  Wisps tugged the rusty door open a little more. He scanned the area before going in. “The boys are up on the platform.”

  Nick touched his arm, stopping him. “Where did he get all the kids?”

  “Says they came to him.”

  Nick swore. “More abandoned kids. This is bad.”

  Wisp felt the air change. “There’s a train coming.”

  Nick shot him a curious glance. “Is that a good or bad thing?”

  “Since the last squatters were killed, I’m gonna say bad.” Wisp took off at a run for the kids in the stock room with Nick right behind him. They met them on the platform. Toad carried a bulging sack over one shoulder. The smaller boy struggled to drag an equally full bag. Wisp looked at the boy, the bag and guessed at Nick’s strength. “You take the kid, I’ll get the bag.”

  “Train coming!” Nick yelled. “We gotta get out of here.”

  Toad took off for the exit. Willboy stared at them, looking like he might cry. Nick scooped him up as Wisp grabbed the bag. Wind swirled dust across the platform as the train approached. Nick dashed for the stairs back down to the cubbies, the boy clinging like a limpet. Wisp tossed the bag over his shoulder and followed at a run. The squeal of brakes sounded as they piled out into the hallway. Wisp dropped his sack to shoulder the door closed. Chimes sounded announcing the arrival of a train.

  Wisp brought up the rear as they scrambled up the stairs to the maintenance shed. He felt a cluster of people in the station below him with a cohesiveness to them that said soldiers and an intensity that said trouble.

  Chapter 21

  “Some people ran away from the disease with no destination in mind. Some ran to a specific place with no plan of how to survive once they arrived. Whether the mountains or the sea, country or town, there was no running from the fact that the world had changed.”

  History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss

  AFTER LUNCH, TILLY took a few minutes to check in on Angus. She hated sleeping alone in their quarters, and she missed the time they spent, at the end of the day, going over things, chatting, and just being close. She stopped dead in the hallway at seeing Angus pushing a walker, coming out of the infirmary. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Ruth said I need exercise.”

  “Really?” Tilly thought he might be telling the truth because he didn’t look all that pleased.

  “It’s an actual pain in the butt,” he grumbled at her.

  “Let’s go down to the cafeteria. I’ll get you a nice cup of tea,” Tilly offered.

  Angus stopped to get a different grip on his walker. “I feel like an old man.”

  “You are an old man,” Tilly said, but softened it with a hug. She planted a kiss on his cheek. “But you are my old man.”

  “That makes you an old woman,” he snickered.

  “No. Women often marry older men.”

  Angus gave her a sour look. “If I recall−” a resounding gong interrupted him. “What the hell is that?”

  Tilly stared up at the hall boards waiting for the announcement of the latest disaster. Instead there was one harmless word: doorbell. “Oh! That’s the doorbell I asked Martin to install in case someone got locked out when the storm shutters were down.”

  And as if she’d conjured him, Martin came jogging down the hall. “Got a couple of refugees out front Tilly.”

  “Now what?” she mumbled.

  Angus waved her on. “Go. I’ll wait in the cafeteria for the story.”

  She gave him another smooch on the cheek before following Martin down the hall. “Did you let them in?”

  “Tall Joe’s retracting the storm shutters now,” Martin reported.

  They arrived at the front doors to find five bedraggled adults under the armed scrutiny of three grim-faced Watchmen. The strangers huddled together looking miserable. Two were elderly, a man and woman. The other three were younger women. They were draped in sodden blankets dripping puddles on the floor.

  “Oh good heavens, Martin, call back your hounds,” Tilly said after taking a careful look at her latest refugees. “Please come in, you’re soaked through.”

  One woman moved forward from the huddle. Her face was drawn, gray with cold and exhaustion. Hair hung plastered against her forehead, dripping into her eyes. She brushed it away with fingers thin as sticks. “We just seek shelter...for a short time.”

  “She’s pregnant,” Martin mumbled.

  The woman stood hunched as if to hide it. Tilly saw it as soon as he said it. Then she saw that the other two women were pregnant, too. “We need to get you warm and dry right away.” She took the woman’s arm leading her into the building. “Martin, find Jean, I’m going to need some extra hands.”

  “We don’t need much,” she mumbled. “A dry corner?”

  “What is your name, my dear?”

  “Pat?” she answered in a tremulous whisper, as if the answer might be wrong.

  “Tell me what you need m
ore, a hot shower or food,” Tilly said in a soothing voice.

  Pat pulled away, stumbling back to her companions. “Nothing. We don’t need anything,” she said in a trembling voice.

  Tears pricked at Tilly’s eyes. She hated seeing people so frightened that they couldn’t see common kindness as other than a threat. Jean arrived with Kyle and Ruth in tow. It took more coaxing, but they managed to get all of them seated in the cafeteria with hot tea and leftover soup from lunch. The other two women were Coco and Sadie. The old couple were incoherent, stunned from fatigue. Tilly worried about the elders the most. They were shivering in their wet clothes despite dry blankets and hot food.

  Sadie gave her a wide-eyed look. “What is this place?”

  “This is High Meadow med center.”

  “But...” She stared around the room at people chatting at tables, the kitchen crew banging pots around, and the squeals of a herd of children as they stampeded by, most likely led by Lily. “It’s like before.”

  Tilly had to clear her throat twice before she was sure her voice wouldn’t betray her. “You are safe here. We make sure that our people are safe.”

  “This is real,” Pat said, pointing to her bowl.

  “We try not to rely too much on train food. We grow what we can.”

  The three women shared furtive looks that worried Tilly. Could these pitiful fugitives be part of a plot to assay the weaknesses of the center before an attack? She checked for Martin, finding him lounging at the back of the room with a mug in one hand. He looked relaxed to the unpracticed eye. Tilly saw the way his gaze took in the room and all of its occupants. His vigilance allowed her to be the softer, kinder face of the settlement.