by Alice Sabo
“I’d love to. Can you do it?”
“Yes. Absolutely. This is...” Claude shook his head, his breath catching. “This is what I do,” he said in a voice rough with passion. “What I haven’t been able to do since...”
“Since the world changed,” Tilly finished for him, but then her voice got stern. “Nothing fancy.” She gestured to a basket filled with spools of thread in a rainbow of colors. “We use whatever we can get our hands on. We don’t have the luxury to spend time on ornamentation or even worrying about whether the thread matches the fabric. That doesn’t matter, as long as we have work clothes appropriate to the season. Clothes for the babies and children. Coats for the winter.”
“Of course.”
“I’d better check on the others. Get yourself a fresh set of clothes. Take a hot shower. Settle in.” Tilly left Claude in The Wardrobe with high hopes that he would work out.
Chapter 27
“How can I explain the pain of watching the world end and being a survivor?”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
THE WATCH SURPRISED Wisp. The van-load of kids blocked his senses making him realize he’d been too focused on them. He slowed at the polite barrier of a single sawhorse in the road. Everyone knew him, his white hair and pale blue eyes made him easy to spot. Both men in the road waved. He waved back, feeling unaccustomed to the trust of mere acquaintances, and startled to find he wasn’t the least concerned about stopping for their inspection.
“You find what you needed?” Tall Joe asked. His eyes wandered the confines of the van. “Whoa!”
“A little more than expected,” Wisp commented.
“I’d better warn Tilly.” Tall Joe reached for the radio at his hip.
“Yes.” Wisp waited for more questions, but Joe waved them on as his partner pulled the sawhorse to one side.
“Who’s Tilly?” Ted asked.
“She runs High Meadow.”
“Will she be upset? All these kids?”
Wisp could feel the edge of panic creeping into Ted’s emotions. “She will be upset that they have been on their own. Nothing more,” Wisp assured him. “This is a safe place.”
The heavy cloud cover blocked the last rays of the evening, dropping a gray curtain over the countryside. Wisp pulled up to the front of the school feeling a frisson of deja vu. Tilly waited there with Martin and a group of people just like their arrival after the fiasco at Riverbank. Luckily, this time he wasn’t bringing any casualties.
Ted and Nixie shepherded the children out of the van and into the cafeteria. As the physical and mental noise and emotions rose, Wisp stayed by the van until they all moved inside. Martin ducked away from the crowd, making his way over to Wisp.
“Where’s Nick?” Martin asked.
“He chose to take on an undercover job,” Wisp muttered.
Martin’s curiosity spiked almost as high as his alarm. “What does that mean?”
“We ran into a group that might be the pressgang. He chose to get captured by them.”
“Because...”
“I can find him.”
Martin’s eyes scanned the long driveway, showing no emotion. “Makes sense. Is he okay?”
“He is not in pain.”
“Huh,” Martin grunted an acceptance. “We’ll need to put together a crew to go after him.” There was a thin strand of jealousy in Martin that he unconsciously smothered with duty.
“He said you would provide ‘the cavalry’.”
Martin chuckled, his somber emotions lifting. “Well I can’t promise him that, but I can give you a decent crew.” His face grew serious. “You don’t seem too pleased.”
“It isn’t a course I would take, but Nick seemed excited about it.”
“Yeah. He’s been itching to see some action for awhile.” He looked up at the building. “Where did all these kids come from?”
“I don’t know.”
“But that’s your brother, right?”
“He said they come to him. He’s been trying to find a safe place for them.”
Martin squared his shoulders. “They’ll be safe here.”
TED LED THE CHILDREN into the building with a smile plastered onto his face. He didn’t know any of these people, but he did trust Wisp. It was hard to feel so badly exposed and keep a happy facade for the children. Nixie stood to one side of the hallway observing, as she so often did. Ted caught her eye, but she gave him a tiny shake of her head.
The wonderful smells of food drew the children into the cafeteria. The hallways were brightly lit. People chatted and laughed as they sorted out the kids. Ted felt like a mouse caught in the middle of the floor at night when the lights came on. He wanted to scurry into a dark corner until he could assess the situation. A white haired woman with gray eyes in a worn but kind face came over to him.
“I’m Tilly. Welcome to High Meadow.”
Ted gave her a small bow. “Thank you. Wisp said that you could handle all the kids...” he let his voice trail off, waiting for a rebuttal or denial.
“Of course. All are welcome here. We ask that those who can, share the work.”
A shiver hit Ted. “What kind of work?”
“Whatever you can do.”
“What does Wisp do?”
“He does...” she skewered him with a piercing look. “Aren’t you his brother?”
“I am.”
“Then you know what he does.”
Ted liked her for being cautious. If she was protective of Wisp, perhaps that gave him the only assessment he needed. “I know what he can do. I don’t know what he could do for you.”
“Ah.” Tilly’s eyes lost their hooded look. “He has an amazing range of skills. It changes from day to day what he does for us, but we are always grateful.”
Ted wasn’t sure what to do with that vague declaration. It didn’t give him any ideas as to how he could be useful. “But what about the children?”
“We have a school. The older ones do chores as they are able.”
“A school?” Ted felt a horrible longing for things to be as they once were. He could almost smell the aroma of old books, the leather chairs in the library at the lab. But that was before. His old melancholy pressed down on him. They might not have a place here for him with his useless skills. Desperately, his eyes wandered the milling people for a familiar shape. “Where is Wisp?”
“He avoids crowds,” Tilly said, an eyebrow raised in a you-should-know-that manner. “Oh, here comes Kyle. He’s going to be your buddy until you get settled.”
Ted flinched at the thought of a strange man shadowing him. There would be reprimands and caustic remarks. He wondered if they would let him stay with the children. Where would Nixie go?
A tall, broad-shoulder man with rusty red hair and amber eyes came through the crowd. He looked surprised at first, then smiled warmly. “Theta.”
At the sound of his voice, Ted knew him. “Khi?” He grabbed his brother in a hug. Khi towered over him. He was strong like Wisp, but not nearly as powerful. Khi smelled faintly of chemicals, giving Ted another flashback to their early years together.
“I was named Kyle.”
“How appropriate,” Ted said. He felt better for seeing a familiar face. “I go by Ted. Theta was a bit too much for the children.” He looked around the busy cafeteria, feeling safer with this brother as an anchor. “Wisp said this was a good place.”
“It is.” Kyle steered Ted towards the food line.
“What kind of work do they make you do?” Ted asked.
Kyle handed him a tray, then laid a fork and knife on it. “Make me?” He shook his head. “They ask. I do research. Angus gave me my own lab.”
Ted’s high spirits fell. “I can’t do anything like that. What will they make me do?”
Kyle squeezed his shoulder, then leaned past him to fill a plate for him. “Eat, rest. They won’t require a commitment from you right away. They keep a chore board up. You can pick and choose.”
&nb
sp; “Mopping floors? Cleaning pots?” he asked bitterly. Simple chores like that wouldn’t be a burden in return for a safe place to sleep and regular meals, but he had hoped for something more.
“There is some of that. And feeding the chickens, watching the children, picking vegetables, knitting hats...”
Kyle took the now laden tray in one hand, Ted’s elbow in the other and led him to an empty table.
“What does Wisp do?”
Kyle had added two cups of tea to the tray and now took one for himself. He blew on the hot liquid before taking a sip. “I don’t see a lot of him. I know he forages. And finds lost children.”
Ted looked at the plateful of food in front of him. “What is this?”
Kyle grinned at him. “Real food.”
“What do other people do?” Ted asked.
His brother’s smile slipped from his face. “What do you need to do?”
The question hit Ted solidly in the heart. For all his bemoaning of his fate, he’d hardly dared to think about what he wanted, or needed. “I don’t know.”
Kyle reached a beefy hand across the table to pat Ted on the arm. “We’ll work on that.”
Chapter 28
“Everyone alive today has lost loved ones. And each of us is left with the guilt and confusion of surviving. What wrinkle in our DNA made us that much stronger than our loved ones?”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
WISP HELPED MARTIN and a couple of men from the Watch unpack the supplies and gear from the van. He could sense that Martin wanted to chew on the situation, but neither of them had any answers. He gestured for Wisp to join him in the van for the short trip into the garage.
“Angus will want a full report,” Martin grumbled as he started up the vehicle.
Wisp sent out a feeler in that direction. “He’s busy interrogating all the new kids.”
Martin squinted at him. “I doubt it’s an interrogation.” His momentary amusement fizzled. “I don’t know how he’s going to take this. He told Nick not to go.”
“Someone had to.”
“You and I know that. Angus has other plans.”
“He can’t keep everyone safe,” Wisp said, gentling his voice to take the bite out of the words. “Flu will take some. Accident. Raiders. Nick needs to be out there.”
“And you?”
Wisp shifted in his seat. “I have to go. I promised I’d find him.” The bump in Martin’s emotion didn’t surprise him. The gruff man was powerfully loyal to his people, but there was a shadow of envy at Nick’s excursion.
Martin guided the van into its parking space. “What about your brother?”
“Kyle will care for him. He doesn’t need me here.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’s uneasy in new surroundings. I think he will settle in here.”
Martin opened the door, but didn’t get out. He looked over to Wisp. “I’ll let Angus know that you’ll be in after you stow your gear?”
Wisp nodded before tucking a package under his arm and heading for the lower levels. He was peripherally aware that Kyle and Ted were together. Ted was still nervous, but Kyle seemed pleased. Wisp figured that meant things were in hand. He needed to speak with Rosa and Istvan about Nixie. He took a light scan of the settlement. The Travelers were in the tunnel again. Above him, Ted’s children felt like a tide of curiosity. With the other children at High Meadow to ease their transition, he thought they would settle in quickly. Children were always adaptable.
He made his way down the stairs to the storm shelter. The lower he went, the less pressure he felt on his mental barriers. Very few people were down here. The maze was still open. One bank of overheads was left on to light the enormous space. He moved through the staging area and on to the entrance to the access tunnel. He banged on one of the big steel doors before opening it.
The Travelers were seated around a camp table. There were tea cups and papers, so it looked more like a meeting than a meal. Rosa jolted to her feet and scurried toward them.
“You have news?” she asked breathlessly. Her emotions spiked at fear, but a twining thread of hope made it lighter.
Wisp offered her the package containing her daughter’s boots. “She’s upstairs, eating.”
Rosa clasped her hands to her chest tightly. “Are you lying?” she growled.
“She’s not who she was,” Wisp warned. This was the hard part about finding people. Sometimes they got lost on purpose.
“What does that mean?” Rosa asked, her voice tight with grief. “Are you trying to fool me with some other girl?”
Istvan came to stand behind Rosa, a firm hand on her shoulder. His eyes scrutinized Wisp, his damp clothes and the package he still held out to Rosa. Istvan leaned past his wife to retrieve it. “This is too easy. We have been searching for years. You expect us to believe you have found her in a matter of days?”
Wisp gave them a slight bow to acknowledge their disbelief. Their emotions ran the gamut from grief to fear to joy, now laced with an extra serving of guilt and regret. “The girl who wore those boots is upstairs. She calls herself Nixie. She has been badly scarred.” He touched his face. “She was traveling with my brother and a bunch of children. Tilly is settling them in the cafeteria.” He stepped away from them as Rosa’s emotions crested into a swirl too contorted to identify. He left Rosa and Istvan staring at one another in indecision. Once they saw Nixie, they could decide if they wanted to reward him. There were complications here that made him prefer to walk away. Right now he didn’t need payment for survival.
He headed back up the stairs to the tunnel to the field house. Minutes later, alone in his room, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was able to lower his barriers, relax cramped mental muscles. It felt good to not have anyone’s thoughts pounding against his head. The horses were in for the night, full and drowsy in their stable. A small mind flickered about nearby, perhaps one of the kittens investigating. The general hum of activity from the main building wound down as people finished their evening activities and headed to their quarters for the night.
Wisp sorted out the gear he’d taken, with an eye to what he’d need for the next journey. He could feel Nick, moving away. Part of him felt like he’d failed, by letting Nick go off on his own into danger. Logically, Nick’s plan made sense, but Wisp had found that logic had little to do with reality. There were too many unknowns in this mission. The men who took Nick did not look like trained militia. They were dressed in civilian clothing and bickered in a way that denied any command structure. Not soldiers, nor mercenaries, that left untrained hired guns. Wisp didn’t like that. Amateurs could be unpredictable.
Despite the late hour, Nick was still moving. That might mean a longer trip to rescue him. The season seemed to be turning much too soon this year. The chill drizzle continued unabated. This was weather that should be a few months off. Wisp packed a sweater and a couple pair of wool socks.
A mind intruded. Someone approached in a stealthy manner. Wisp thought he recognized the feel. He found his long knife and a flashlight, then turned off the lights. He slipped into the hallway, feeling his way toward the intruder. As he expected, Toad stood in the foyer, backlit by the courtyard lighting.
Toad cocked his head, even though Wisp knew he hadn’t made a sound. There was something odd about the way the boy’s brain worked, but Wisp didn’t think he was a biobot. Sometimes nature itself created oddities.
“What are you looking for?” Wisp asked.
Toad stepped out of the light, leaning against a wall. “Too loud in there,” he said pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the main building.
Wisp doubted that Toad had any extrasensory skills, but it wasn’t abnormal for feral kid to be sensitive to sound. “I’ll show you a place where you can sleep.”
“Horses in here.”
“You want to see the horses?” Wisp asked. He felt rather than saw Toad’s nod.
Wisp led him down the dark hallways to the big locker room th
at had been transformed into a stable. Straw covered the floor. The warm smell of the animals permeated the air. Wisp turned on the lights in a storage room, letting the indirect illumination into the main room. Big dark eyes watched them. One of the horses nickered.
Toad walked over to the huge animals. All of the horses reached out noses to sniff and butt him, making Wisp reassessed him. Toad made a clicking noise as he rubbed necks and patted heavy shoulders. Animals had a sense about humans. The fact that all the horses seemed to like Toad made Wisp even more curious about the boy.
Chapter 29
“We had to shake off our grief and fear and confusion to face the grim facts that we must work for our survival. Three years into it, there was no department or agency to bring us emergency supplies or direct us to safe housing. We had to wake up, look around ourselves and start planning.”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
TILLY COUNTED HEADS coming up with a different number for the third time. Either she was more tired than she realized, or the kids kept moving around. There were seventeen or nineteen of them, looking to be between ten and fourteen years old. Her heart sank thinking of these kids out on their own. She had a grudging respect for Ted and the older girl Nixie. He looked exhausted, and she just ghosted around the edges of the room, seemingly unable to settle. Nixie had a scar on her face and a look in her eyes that spoke volumes to Tilly. She’d seen too many people with that look in the incipient days when the devastation from the flu was new and inconceivable. That girl had more than physical wounds to heal.
Lily hovered around the room watching the newcomers and skipping impatiently between her mother and the food line. Tilly beckoned her over. This group might be a bit more feral than Lily was accustomed to.
“Tilly, Tilly, all the new kids!” Lily said in a rush.
“Yes, but I think you need to let them get settled before meeting them.”