Scattered Seeds

by Alice Sabo

  “Why?”

  “Because some of them have been on their own a long time, and they might not be ready to make friends.”

  Lily rolled her eyes. “Everybody knows about Unka Ted,” she said in a voice older than her years. “And I know Sooty and Nixie. And Toad. But I think he went back outside...”

  Tilly was surprised. “How do you know these people?”

  Lily raised thin shoulders in a shrug. “Everybody knows Unka Ted will feed you and give you a safe place to sleep.” She glanced over her shoulder before continuing in a softer voice. “After Mom got took, Iris and William and me stayed with Unka Ted for a little while. But the men came. He hid us all, but Iris said we needed to find a better place.” Lily hopped in place, too full of energy to stand still. “I’m gonna say hi.”

  She was gone before Tilly could respond. Lily skipped across the room to plow into Ted with a bear hug. He patted her back, giving her a kind smile. Lily jabbered at him. Tilly saw a real smile cross Ted’s fatigued features. Lily pointed across the room to her family. Ted waved at William. More curious connections.

  Rosa came through the door at a trot, Istvan a step behind her. Her face a mask of grief, a handkerchief hid her mouth. Tilly felt a moment of panic. Was there an attack? But no alarms had sounded. She scanned the room for Martin or Nick, and realized she hadn’t seen Nick at all.

  Rosa howled a name, so twisted with emotion Tilly couldn’t sort it out, before dashing across the room toward Nixie. Tilly sucked in her breath seeing the similarities in hair and coloring but knowing that Nixie might not be ready for this reunion. Nixie backed up, slamming into the wall. Ted jerked to his feet, dashing across the room at a speed that belied his previous clumsiness. Istvan grabbed Rosa by the shoulders, holding her back from the girl. Tilly got there a heartbeat after Ted.

  “What’s wrong? Who are you?” Ted asked as he put himself between Rosa and Nixie.

  Rosa covered her face, sobbing. Istvan wrapped his arms around his wife, holding her still, but the pain was evident in his eyes, too.

  “Softly,” Tilly said as she squeezed Rosa’s arm. “It’s a surprise. A shock. Let’s all take a breath.” She turned to Ted who stood with arms out blocking access to Nixie. “Let’s all sit down quietly and introduce ourselves.” Tilly looked around to see a group of people vacate the table nearest them. She gestured everyone over.

  “I am Tilly. I run High Meadow. This is Rosa and Istvan, Travelers. They hired Wisp to find their daughter, Felicia.” Tilly saw Ted nodding, he’d picked up on her intent.

  “I am Ted. I just got here. This is Nixie, my friend. She just got here, too. We brought some children, some...” Ted gave Tilly a shy look, “Ragamuffins...with us.”

  Rosa mopped her face, sighing deeply. “I am Rosa,” she said in an uneven voice. She turned her gaze on Nixie. “Do you not know me?”

  Nixie sat stiffly, her chair pulled back a little from the table. She studied her hands, knotted in her lap.

  “We searched for you,” Istvan spoke in a rough whisper. “For days.” He rubbed his mouth, clearing his throat. “We camped there. Waiting. Hoping you would, could, come back. We stayed all winter. Searching.”

  Nixie looked away.

  “Nixie is my right hand,” Ted said proudly. “She takes care of the children and finds us a good camp every night.”

  Tilly noticed that Ted didn’t try to touch Nixie despite his protective nature. That confirmed some of her speculation. Wherever Nixie had disappeared to, it had been bad.

  “Well, I would certainly be grateful if you two could help me wrangle these children until they get settled in,” Tilly said with a nod at Ted and Nixie. “And of course, Rosa, you are welcome to rest here for as long as you need.”

  Istvan met Tilly’s gaze, gratitude in his bloodshot eyes. “We are thankful. We will be in our camp in the tunnel. You have been very kind.” He took Rosa’s hands in his own, holding them tightly. “We will wait,” he said.

  Chapter 30

  “Money became pointless. We fell into bartering. However the barter system requires a unique overview of essentials and luxuries. Is it worthwhile making candy when you can’t find someone to supply you with clothing? If we all grow potatoes, who might have the butter?”

  History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss

  “WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT?” Angus asked Tilly as she joined him at his table.

  “It appears that Nixie is Rosa and Istvan’s daughter, but she doesn’t seem ready to reunite with them.”

  “Ah.” Angus tapped a pen against the table thoughtfully. “That happens sometimes.”

  “She’s been hurt.”

  Angus reached over to squeeze Tilly’s hand. “They have found each other again. This is a safe place for them to become reacquainted at whatever pace she needs. You don’t have to do more.”

  “I can’t do more,” Tilly muttered in exasperation. “I’ve got so many newcomers I’ve run out of minders. I thought we had a good enough plan, but all these people! Angus, we’re getting over run.”

  “I know, my dear. I’ve been speaking with the Greeting Committee and the Watch. We are going to put up beds in the small gymnasium.”

  “That’s awful,” Tilly interjected.

  “It’s better than a lot of them have had. It will give us a chance to process them. Sort them out.” He peered past her shoulder. “Have you seen Wisp or Nick?”

  Tilly did a second scan of the room. “No. Wisp might have gone straight to the field house.”

  Angus struggled to his feet using the walker for leverage. “Martin said Wisp would give me a report after he settled in. I’d better start back to the office. Do you want to sit in?”

  “Yes.” Tilly surprised herself. This was Angus’s domain, but things were changing again. With all these new people arriving, she needed to start delegating more of the work, so she could keep a better overview. “I need to check on a few things. I’ll be right there.”

  She made a quick visit to the kitchen to check on cleanup from the second dinner and prep for the next day’s breakfast. Then she checked in with the Greeting Committee, who with off-duty members of the watch, were moving bunk beds and banks of lockers into the gymnasium. They created a barrier with the lockers sectioning off the room into smaller cubicles. She directed them to leave a large area for the new kids, so they could all be together. Nine bunk beds would take up a lot of space. She told them to disassemble the bunks for the adults. Since they had the room now, it was the least she could do to give them a little comfort.

  Then a quick stop at the linen cupboard to find they were almost out of sheets. Another quick check at the showers showed that there was plenty of soap and shampoo for the time being. By the time she got to Angus’s office, she was out of breath.

  Martin was already seated in the discussion circle. Someone had brought a pot of tea and mugs. She felt a thin sliver of guilt for not doing it herself. Things had changed so fast with the influx of people. Her duties no longer allowed her to fuss over simple things like tea for a meeting. Angus began pouring as she took the seat next to him.

  “This is a new mixture that Bruno has created. I think there is mint in it, but he’s found some other herbs for us to try,” Angus said, handing out mugs.

  Tilly sniffed the steam. The mint dominated. There was a mild sweetness underneath and an earthy tang. “I’d love a good old cup of black tea,” she mumbled.

  “With cream and sugar?” Martin asked with a wistful look.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve been talking to Istvan about sorghum,” Angus said.

  “What’s that?” Martin asked.

  “It’s like sugarcane, but something we could grow here. He said it isn’t hard to make a sort of molasses from it. And that it would be an excellent product for bartering.”

  “Can we get a crop in this year?” Martin asked.

  “Does he have access to seed?” Tilly asked at almost the same time.

  Angus chuck
led. “I asked him about seed. He said he had a packet for barter from a fellow growing it west of here. Might cost us two chickens and a rooster. But he said to treat it like corn, and I think if we get on it right away it might not be too late to sow this year.”

  “It would be good to have our own supply of some sort of sweetener,” Tilly said. “We can’t rely on the foragers finding many more stashes of sugar. We’ve hardly got any left.”

  “Bruno still hasn’t found a bee hive?” Angus asked.

  “Too much rain,” Martin grumbled.

  A knock at the door announced Wisp. Tilly noted that his clothes were dry, so he’d come through the tunnel. She also realized he was dressed more warmly than any of them. That made her worry. “Is the temperature dropping?”

  “Yes.” He took a seat opposite Martin.

  Angus handed him a mug. “A new concoction from Bruno.”

  Tilly watched him sniff the tea. “What do you think?”

  “Bruno is very knowledgeable about herbs,” Wisp said, although he examined the contents of the cup with a doubtful frown.

  Tilly chuckled. “But you don’t like his experiments?” She took a careful sip. The taste differed from what the scent suggested. A sharp bitterness countered an almost flowery essence, both of which were blended into the clean flavor of the peppermint.

  Wisp sipped, then sniffed, then took another sip. “Mint, dandelion and lavender?”

  “Well done!” Angus said. “I wondered about the lavender, but I rather like it.”

  Wisp put his tea down. “Nick has gone on a mission.”

  Tilly immediately looked to Angus. His mouth flattened and a muscle in his jaw jumped. She found herself kneading her hands together. They had talked about this. Worried about it, really, that a time would come when someone would defy Angus’s orders. That it was Nick made it all the more an issue.

  “Tell me,” Angus said, his voice deceptively bland.

  “We encountered a group of men that I believed to be part of the pressgangs. Nick decided that going undercover and allowing himself to be captured would be the best way to acquire new information.”

  “And you let him.”

  “I have no authority with which to control his actions,” Wisp said flatly. “I did tell him that I was uncomfortable with the situation.”

  “Did he have a plan?” Angus asked.

  “He wants me to find him.”

  “By yourself?”

  “He told Wisp to bring the cavalry,” Martin added with a ghost of a smile.

  Angus pulled a sheaf of papers into his lap to fuss with them. “I feared he would go off on his own.”

  “He was FBI,” Martin offered. “It’s what he did.”

  “He told me that, too,” Wisp said. “He was excited about going.”

  “Can you tell if he’s okay?” Tilly asked.

  “He is feeling a minimal pain,” Wisp said, his eyes losing focus for a moment. “Nothing life threatening.”

  “And you know where he is?” Angus asked.

  “I do.”

  Angus sighed, settling back into his chair. “This is a bad time to spare people from the Watch to go off gallivanting after Nick.”

  “If Wisp can do a quick once over of the newcomers, Tall Joe and I can set up a new crew for training. If I pair the new guys with veterans, we can double our numbers.”

  Tilly shook her head. “More than half the newcomers are children or too sick to help.”

  “I’ll take teens,” Martin said.

  “Do we need to make it mandatory for everyone to spend time in the Watch?” Tilly asked.

  “I don’t think that is the most efficient use of our resources,” Angus argued.

  “You just don’t want to give up your researchers,” Tilly chided him.

  “Ted’s children are smart and used to working together. You could use some of them for short surveillance shifts,” Wisp suggested.

  “They’re children,” Tilly protested.

  “They have lived on their own and survived,” Wisp said. “They have heightened senses of danger. I have no doubt they would be eager to protect their new home.”

  Martin tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Wisp is right. Some of the older ones, like William has proven, will be ready to help out. Might help them settle in better if they have a job right away.”

  “This will lighten our load for guards on the perimeter, but what about our fighters?” Angus asked. “I can’t let you take too many of them with you.”

  “Don’t want too large a group out there,” Martin said. “If we’re outnumbered, it’ll be a stealth extraction anyway. We just need enough to watch each other’s backs.”

  Wisp agreed. “Six, eight at the most.”

  Tilly shivered, but she couldn’t say if it was cold or worry. The room suddenly felt quite chilly. “Martin, will you stay?” She could see the longing in his eyes. Maybe when things quieted down a little, he could go on a foraging trip, but right now she needed him nearby.

  “Of course. I’ll take a look at my roster. See who would be best to go.”

  “Everett might,” Wisp suggested.

  “They’ve barely gotten settled,” Tilly said. “And Mary’s due any day now.”

  “It’s his niece, not his daughter being born,” Wisp said. “I think he would like to get away. His brother is the farmer. He’s more of a hunter and guard.”

  Tilly stared at Wisp. “How do you know it’s going to be a girl?”

  Wisp looked away, giving her a slight shrug.

  Angus gave a cheerful guffaw. “Ah Wisp, you are a constant surprise.”

  “Can you tell when the baby will be born?”

  “Soon.”

  “I already said that,” Tilly rebutted.

  Wisp looked up at the big clock over the door. “Soon.”

  Tilly pushed herself to her feet. “I’d best go make sure the infirmary is ready.”

  Chapter 31

  “Communities with rare goods cannot be assured of equal trading partners. If they cannot find the essential supplies they need, their goods are useless. And so it is important for everyone to succeed—the farmer and the dairy and the baker.”

  History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss

  EVEN WITH THE TRUCK’S door open, the interior remained dark and stuffy. Nick struggled to his feet. His arms, tied behind his back with thin, sharp twine, were well past numb and heading for lifeless. He shuffled to the back of the van aching in all his joints.

  “C’mon, c’mon, out!” One of his captors banged a thick wooden bludgeon against the side of the van.

  Nick had already felt that bludgeon against his shoulder, which was also numb now. His fellow captives labored to move after hours of jouncing around in the back of the van. It had been a relief when the vehicle finally stopped, but he had no idea where they were. There were six of them counting Nick. Three other men, each showing signs of a beating. Two of them, with dark hair and eyes, looked like brothers. The third man, painfully thin and balding kept a distance from all of them. There were two women, who stuck together and whispered most of the day, heads together. The blonde woman teetered on the verge of hysteria the entire afternoon. The other woman, dark haired and wiry, spent most of her time keeping her companion quiet.

  All of the captives looked exhausted from the battering of the ride. More than one of them had blood smearing the twine binding their hands. Nick jumped down from the van, feeling the jolt in all his injuries. The brothers followed suit. The balding man sat on the floor before sliding off gingerly. The women needed help. The guy with the bludgeon hauled them down like sacks of grain.

  “Just six?” A man approached, shotgun perched on his shoulder. He had unkempt hair and a ratty beard. His clothes were worn and dirt-smeared.

  Nick took a casual look around himself. They were in a highway turnoff of some sort. Thick woods surrounded a small parking area. Aside from the van they had arrived in, two more similar vehicles were parked at a
distance. An enormous tent took up the major portion of the lot.

  “How many you got?” Bludgeon asked.

  “Well, I’m just startin’ my run,” Shotgun answered smartly.

  Bludgeon folded his arms and stared at Shotgun. “Huh. Stay away from mine.” The staring contest went on longer than Nick liked. He eyed his fellow captives. They all felt the tension, remaining very still while the two armed men glared at each other.

  Shotgun burst out laughing. “Six! Ha. I’ll get that many in my first day!” He sauntered off without a backward look.

  Bludgeon barked an order at his captives. Nick followed obediently to the tent which had a permanent look, weather stained and drooping. Inside he saw thick tree trunks supporting the sagging canvas with the cracked pavement of the parking lot as the floor. Hanging panels divided it into four separate spaces. The smell of mildewing canvas was strong making Nick think of camping as a boy, but this was far from a pleasant retreat. Flannel Shirt marched past them and pulled back one of the panels to expose a man-sized cage. Nick stumbled a bit, giving himself a minute to view his surroundings. There was another cage in the second space and what looked like cots and tables in the other two. This must be a staging area for the pressgangs. Knowing they were so organized threw a curve into his plans for escape.

  Flannel Shirt cut the bindings before he pushed each captive into the cage. Nick looked at the strands of bloody twine on the ground. He worried about infection and wondered if the others had been tied up and travelling for more than just today.

  The bald man shuffled to the far corner and huddled there. The brothers stood dead center, arrogance in every line of their stance. The women kept to the side avoiding them.

  “Back away!” The third captor arrived carrying two buckets. He raised one bucket. “Drinking water. It’s all your gonna get, so don’t use it for washing.” Then he raised the other. “Food and cups. You fight over it, you don’t get any more.”

  Bludgeon came to stand at the door as the two buckets were placed in the cage. Flannel shirt arrived with a larger covered bucket, whose stink explained its use.