by Alice Sabo
“Infuriated?”
“A little.”
Washburn chuckled. “We keep an eye on them. As long as we keep them fed and safe, they happily continue their meetings and committees. They don’t have any real power.”
“Would they start tithing from the settlements?”
“They can pass any law they like. I have no idea how they might enforce anything from their ivory tower in Peoria. I have my own duties. I can’t give them anyone for that kind of stuff.”
“Have they been out in the real world?”
“Most of them, no. They’ve been holed up in that building for years. Keeping a strangle hold on the last gasp of government.”
“But they could do real good if they knew what was going on,” Nick said.
“Not really. They don’t want to know. They make up their reports with information that’s years out of date. And every year there are less of them, and they scramble around reassigning jobs and having emergency meetings.” Washburn dabbed his lips with a napkin. “They’re harmless.”
Nick wanted to believe that, but he kept his doubts to himself. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if they started demanding tithes from the few settlements that were getting by. When he got back, he needed to have a long talk with Martin and Angus. The playing field had changed, and they hadn’t seen it coming. “What about the trains?”
“You’d have to talk to them. They have offices in Lincoln.”
Nick put his fork down because suddenly it felt much too heavy. He struggled to lift his head to locate the General. The man leaned back in his chair with a predator’s grin. “Now I’ve got some questions for you.”
Chapter 42
“I realize that a strong leader is needed and wonder how such a person would go about reuniting such a fragmented society.”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
TILLY ATTENDED THE meeting that Angus had called. Martin was helping himself to tea when she arrived in her husband’s office. “Please tell me there is no crisis,” she said. “I’ve got a million things to get done before dinner.”
“Crisis averted,” Martin said glumly.
“Then why don’t you sound happy?” Tilly asked.
Angus looked up from his pile of papers. “Because it was just a precursor.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
Martin poured a second cup then handed it to Tilly. “There was an attack on Creamery, but it didn’t do much besides scare them.”
“And you think the raiders’ll come back?”
“I think it was a test. They wanted to suss out their strengths.” Martin leaned back in the chair with a low grumble. “I think we need to get a few more people over there pronto.”
“How many can we spare?” Tilly asked.
“Well, we’ve got strong physical defenses here because we can shut the storm shutters and that will repel anything short of a bomb. Creamery is too wide open. They haven’t finished their fence. And from the sound of it, they won’t any time soon.”
“So grab some men and help them put it up,” Tilly said smartly.
“Ah, love it isn’t that easy,” Angus interjected. “They need to cut trees to make planks to build the fence. It’s a very laborious project when you can’t just run out to the lumber store.”
“Oh.” Tilly didn’t want another problem. She had more than enough of them right now. Snowball trotted into the office and began sniffing the cuffs of Martin’s pants. The kitten distracted her, letting her mind wander. Sometimes she got her best solutions that way. “What about Barberry Cove?”
“The children?” Angus asked with a puzzled frown.
“It’s a saw mill.” She fought to keep a straight face as the men shared a look. “Maybe they have some lumber.”
“And a truck,” Martin said with a hint of longing in his voice.
“Would having the fence finished help?” Angus asked Martin.
“It would help to channel the fight. As it is now, the raiders can come out from the woods just about anywhere. That scatters the defenders, and they have too few to do that. If they can make defensive positions around the fenced areas, they’d be in much better shape.”
“Send Jim up to the mill to see what kind of supplies they’ve got before we get too carried away,” Tilly said, knowing that she overstepped her bounds. “Does that do it?” She stood.
Angus raised a hand to stop her. “No, dear, I’m sorry, there’s more.”
Weariness pressed down on her. “It’s that man we threw out, isn’t it?” she lamented. “I knew we would have more trouble from him.” She sank back into her seat.
“Could be,” Martin grumbled. “But seems he’s found some friends.”
“We’ve gotten a new report from Stan.” Angus patted a sheaf of papers on his lap. “Excellent overview of the situation. I’m very glad to say I think Creamery is in good hands.”
“But...” Tilly prompted.
“They killed three cows.”
“That’s horrible. Why would they be that stupid?” Tilly was instantly furious. She hated reckless violence like that. Killing a milk cow, when they were so rare, took food out of everyone’s mouth.
“To eat I suppose,” Angus said absently.
“Oh.” Tilly shook her head. “That’s a lot of meat. How many are there?”
“Enough,” Angus said pointing to his papers. “The skirmish lasted two days. By the time they got to the cows, the meat was spoiled.”
“It hasn’t been that hot...” Tilly began, knowing she couldn’t change the situation but needing to argue it all the same.
Angus sighed. “I don’t have the expertise to dispute that.” His blue eyes had lost their twinkle. “If they say the meat was lost, I will believe them. My concern is how badly it has impacted Creamery. They are frightened and disheartened. Those cows had names and had been around since before Zero Year. It’s like losing beloved pets. They are in mourning but still trying to prepare for another attack.”
Tilly thought back to the day after the fight in the tunnels. She’d been deeply shaken, and they hadn’t lost anyone. Hiding in the chapel with the families and elders of High Meadows had made her feel useless, and painfully vulnerable. “They need to know how to fight back,” she said not realizing she’d spoken aloud.
“We can send a few more men, maybe some of the new automatic weapons−“ Martin began.
“No,” she cut him off. “They need fall back shelters for the women and children. You need to give some of the women weapons. If they are safe, the men can fight easier, and the women will feel more in control.”
Angus cocked his head. “They have an underground storage area for the cheese. That would make the best shelter.” He made notes on a pad. “You’ve given me some ideas my dear.”
Tilly gave him a firm nod. Maybe she would ask Martin to set up some shooting lessons to make sure everyone at High Meadow knew how to handle a gun. The idea scared the wits out of her. She knew not everyone could kill a man at point blank range, but if it came to something like the massacre at Riverbank... “I think we should stash weapons in the kitchen, gym, showers and Wardrobe.”
Martin raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Why?”
“Riverbank,” she said, her voice suddenly unsteady. Nick’s description of the massacre there was her worst nightmare. “They didn’t see it coming. A man could come in here and start shooting. By the time you got to the armory...” Tilly pressed her lips together to stop them from trembling. Angus leaned over to squeeze her hand.
“I think you are right,” he said. “Martin, I’d like you to see to that right away. Let the Watch know about it, and whoever else you deem trustworthy.”
“Weapons and ammunition,” he mumbled.
“Send Jim to check out the lumber possibilities. While he’s gone, I’ll work on that plan for Creamery. If we’re lucky, we can get some help to them by tonight.”
The run of emotions had drained her. �
�Are we done?” Tilly asked.
“One last thing,” Angus said. “Creamery’s sent us a dozen or so more people.”
“What?” Tilly started to her feet, but sat again. “Where are they?”
“Lottie conscripted them all. She’s got half of them pulling diseased plants and the other half preparing a new field for the sorghum. And Joshua has gifted us with a sack of rye seed in thanks for the safe birth of their daughter. So they are sorting out where they can plant that.”
“Rye?” Tilly’s mouth watered at the thought of rye toast with butter. “I wonder if Bruno can track down some caraway.”
Angus laughed. “Oh my dear, you amaze me. I just dumped a pile of problems into your lap, and you are dreaming of chickens that haven’t even been laid yet.” He winked at her. “I thought about some lovely rye bread, too. I remember a good Jewish deli my parents used to take me to...ahh, the breads they had.” He sighed dramatically.
“They haven’t even put the seed in the ground,” Martin grumbled. “Don’t get me thinking about bread when I might have to wait months for it.”
Tilly got to her feet, feeling a little overwhelmed. “I’d better go check in with the greeting committee and warn the kitchen.” She hurried out of the room concentrating on the newcomers, because thinking about Creamery brought her back to Riverbank and all those innocent people gunned down with no warning at all.
Chapter 43
“It’s hard to plan for the future when you aren’t sure about having enough food for the coming winter.”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
WISP WOKE BEFORE THE others in the still darkness of the barn. He felt the gentle weight of the sleeping minds around him. Silently, he made his way out into the foggy, gray morning. The trees were saturated with the mist, dribbling spatters of water with each breeze. He walked away from his companions, automatically reaching out his senses to check the area for intruders. There was a new tickle of sensation from further up the unpaved lane, possibly someone on the edge of waking. He hadn’t felt that last night, but if they had been deeply asleep, he wouldn’t feel much from them.
He crossed the rutted lane to a split rail fence. The field on the other side looked recently harvested with churned soil and yellowing stalks strewn about. Wisp examined the ground along the lane. Another, narrower path branched just before the turnoff for the barn. He walked back across the lane to follow the path down through a thin strip of woods to another field. This one was filled with flowers. From where he stood at the edge of the field, he could see the old barn. As he stood there, assessing the vantage point, Ted stuck his head out, then waved.
Wisp waited at the edge of the field for his brother to make his way through the high grass and undergrowth.
“How did you get here?” Ted asked as he turned to inspect his obvious trail through the dripping undergrowth.
Wisp pointed out the path behind him.
“Oh.” Ted tugged on his wet pants, as he admired the field. “Gorgeous. An entire field of red flowers. The color is so vibrant they look like they are illuminated from within.”
“Poppies,” Wisp said.
“Papaver Somniferum,” Ted said savoring the syllables.
“Opium poppies,” Wisp informed him. He felt a thought go from curious to alarm in Ted’s head.
“Oh no.” Ted peered into the fog around them. “Are we in trouble?”
“There’s at least one person up the lane.”
“We should go now,” Ted said looking around at the misty morning. “This field is cultivated.”
The old barn door creaked as Everett came out. “I want to show him something,” Wisp said gesturing to Everett. He started back down the path to the lane.
“Shouldn’t we high-tail it out of here?” Ted asked as he fell in behind his brother.
“I don’t think we’re in danger.”
Everett met them in the lane. “Are those poppies?” he asked, a look of concern on his face as he squinted through the trees.
“Yes. But I want to show you this.” Wisp led them over to the harvested field he’d found earlier.
Everett reached through the rails to pick up a broken stalk. “Looks like oats. Harvested within the last week, I’d guess.”
“That’s a lot of oats,” Ted said in a thoughtful voice looking across the large field.
“Probably about right for a year’s worth of oatmeal for a settlement like High Meadow,” Everett countered. “They must be supplying a settlement, right?”
Wisp looked up the lane. People were awake. “Children,” he said, narrowing down the sense.
“Where?” Ted asked. “Are they alone?”
“We’d better get the others and check that out,” Everett said.
“Wake the others and follow when you’re ready,” Wisp said. “I’ll go ahead and assess the situation.”
Ted grabbed his arm. “Are you sure?”
Wisp could feel his brother’s apprehension. “This is what I do,” he said with a gentle pat on Ted’s hand.
Ted sighed. “Yes, of course. Please be careful.”
“I am always careful. That is how I survive.” Wisp felt Ted recoil as if slapped. He squeezed Ted’s shoulder. “I meant that it is instinctive for me now. Please don’t be worried for my safety.”
Ted shuddered. “I always worry.” He gave Wisp a weak smile and trailed after Everett.
Wisp walked up the lane toward the sense of the children. They were subdued, but he couldn’t tell if it was a situation or an illness that affected them. The lane curved through woods, then doubled back on itself. A wooden bridge spanned a narrow stream. It took another curve around a dense grove of holly and a compound came into view.
There was an old main house with a modern wing fronted with a long porch overlooking a narrow lawn. A barn and some storage buildings were set back behind it. The lane continued past the house toward a row of older cottages that looked like seasonal worker housing. The lane ended beyond that in a large parking area in front of a garage and more outbuildings.
Two boys were sitting on the stoop of the farthest cottage. They looked up as one when Wisp approached. Curiosity peaked in both of them. They had no fear of strangers and raced down the lane toward him.
“You’re not the usual guy.” The boys were identical twins, dark-skinned with shaggy black hair and bright gold eyes. Their unusual eye color told Wisp that they were born since Zero Year, so less than ten years old.
“No, I’m just passing through,” Wisp said.
“Huh. Well, we been waiting for the guys to come, and they haven’t. Have you seen ‘em?”
Wisp smiled at the self-centered world of a child. “No, sorry.” He looked back at the main house. “Are you here alone?”
Without a look or word, the boys moved closer and joined hands as if it had been previously choreographed. Wisp felt a feather of confusion weigh down their normal ebullience. Then a spike of grief pushed down by anger. “Uncle Trey is here.” They lowered their heads in unison, but the sound of a vehicle approaching caught their attention.
Ted burst out of the van before it stopped moving. Nixie dropped out a second behind, but stood to examine the surroundings. “Are they all right?” He looked at the boys. “I’m Ted. Are you hungry?”
“I’m Jed, and he’s Jay. And we’re not supposed to cook anything ‘til Uncle Trey wakes up,” Jed reported. He looked past Ted to see the other men getting out of the van. “Are you the new guys? ‘Cause the old guys are really late.”
Everett squatted next to the boys. “Who are the old guys?”
The boys traded a look. “I don’t think we’re supposed to tell you,” Jay said.
“That’s okay. We were just passing through, and thought we’d check in to see if you folks needed anything.”
“That’s neighborly!” Jed crowed. “Pa says people aren’t neighborly anymore.” Jay elbowed him, a scowl darkening his small face. Jed turned to his twin with a look of indignat
ion. A shadowed look passed between them.
Wisp felt the spike of grief return. He also felt another person. Uncle Trey was awake. The old screen door on the cottage swung open with a characteristic twang. A dark-skinned man in his thirties, wearing dirty jeans and a stained t-shirt staggered out. He looked hung over, but Wisp sensed the raw stupor of an overburdened heart.
“Who are you?” Trey demanded. His close-cropped hair had a dusting of chaff. His hazel eyes were swollen and red-rimmed.
Everett stood up. “We are just people passing through, friend. Wondered if you needed a hand with anything.”
Trey staggered back a step. Wisp knew he was on the rough edge of collapse.
“Softly,” Wisp said under his breath.
Ted took a step forward. “How can we help?”
Trey sucked in a breath, hanging on to the porch column with both hands. Flakes of white paint scattered over his arms. “Are you real?” he whispered.
Wisp held out his hand to warn everyone to stay put. “This flu was a bad one,” he said. “Our settlement lost a lot of people.”
Trey pulled in another hard breath that sounded close to a sob. “The boys. If it weren’t for them...”
“Why don’t Nixie and I get some breakfast going while you folks talk?” Ted said, reaching out to the boys. “We’ve got plenty to share.”
Trey raised bloodshot eyes with a look of dazed confusion. He saw Nixie for the first time. His gaze lingering on her scarred face for a second, before he turned away. “Jay, show them how to collect the eggs.”
The boys went whooping off down the lane with Ted and Nixie in pursuit. Wisp gave Everett the go-ahead. He waved Clay, Darrell, Istvan and Jean back a step. Trey was teetering on the verge of hysteria and physical collapse.
“Tell us what happened,” Everett said, his voice low and gentle.
“They all got sick. Gone before I could do a damned thing. I was running from one to the other...” Trey turned his haggard gaze on the main house. “In the middle of the harvest. And I haven’t even had a chance to bury them.” His chin quivered and his eyes filled. “Mama was gone before I got back from the field. If Jay hadn’t called me...”