by Alice Sabo
Once the cattle were free, he went over to the parking lot to check out the vans. They were the same large black vehicles as he’d seen elsewhere. He inspected the bodies strewn across the lot. Bullet wounds suggested some sort of attack. Two men looked like civilians, but the other three wore uniforms with a military look to them. These had unit patches and rank insignia, but none that Nick recognized. The colors were different from Washburn’s men, slate gray in contrast to the tan he used. That didn’t mean that Washburn hadn’t been involved, only that none of his men were left behind. Helen had said a gang of raiders squatted nearby. The cattle were a priceless score. The men in uniform might have been protecting this place, which meant that Nick was in someone else’s territory. A new piece in the puzzle that he had to sort out. Angus needed to know that people were laying claim to real estate
He opened up the vans and took inventory. Water, weapons, the special meals he’d seen before, ammunition and a huge amount of first aid would hasten his return to High Meadow. He cracked open a bottle of water and downed it. Then helped himself to another meal, tucking a couple into pockets, just in case. He chose one van to take, and started collecting supplies from the other vehicles, until he found the dead driver. The passenger window was shattered and the occupant riddled with bullets. He shut the door and left it be.
He checked the batteries. They were at half-charge, so he displayed the solar array in case it could absorb something from the overcast sky. He needed to hunker down in a safe place to get some sleep before he headed out. There weren’t any other buildings in the immediate area, meaning the slaughterhouse workers must live elsewhere. Nick had no problem foraging through the homes of the dead, a fact of life in the new world. He pulled out someone’s spare gear and started to put it on when he heard the approach of a vehicle.
He locked his van and hid in the trees. A smaller vehicle blew into the parking area, gravel flying. It was dented and muddy with tinted windows, not a van, more along the lines of a station wagon. It stopped opposite two of the dead bodies then it turned and sped out the way it came, kicking up gravel. Nick wondered why the driver hadn’t checked on the cows.
He wasn’t sure what to do about the animals. They had food and access to water. If any of them were sick, he wouldn’t be much help. Coyote and wolf had died out Year Two during the dog flu, so there weren’t any large predators around. He couldn’t do anything more for them, but he still felt bad leaving them on their own. The sun sank behind a bank of clouds. There might be more rain tonight, but the heavy blanket of clouds said it would be more of the same scattered drizzle he’d walked through all day.
One more trip to the roof to check the area before leaving. He lashed on a gun belt with a pistol and shouldered an automatic rifle. Then the sound of more vehicles approaching filtered through the trees. Nick got behind the van that was last in line toward the slaughterhouse. He had trees to his left and behind him that might give him cover for a strategic retreat. From the crunch of tires on gravel, he was betting on two or three cars. The dim light of early evening shortened the visibility. A big van arrived first, followed by two cars and the station wagon Nick had seen earlier. All of the vehicles were battered and filthy. As soon as he was spotted, they started shooting. No questions asked.
Nick returned fire. Men poured out of the vehicles, lining up behind them to barrage him with a hail of bullets. There were about a dozen of them in ragged clothes, beards and long hair. They fired indiscriminately wasting ammunition and howling war cries that didn’t impress Nick. He hunkered down behind the van to show them how it should be done. The third one he took down caused some sort of dam to break. A pair of them broke around the vehicles coming after Nick. He got one, but the second one charged at him firing madly. Nick dodged, ducked and tried shooting from beneath the van. A scrunch of gravel warned him that another bandit was flanking him from the other direction. He looked behind for a better place of cover and saw movement in the trees behind him. They must have left men behind to come in on foot.
He backed up, moving around the side of the van exposing himself for a second before he took out that gunman. The bandits coming through the trees saw him, and clustered, changing direction to close on him. Nick aimed at the first one, caught a flash of white hair and heard someone fall right beside him. He took a closer look in the dim light. The man he’d almost shot was Darrell, who had aimed past Nick to take out a bandit directly behind him. Wisp had brought the cavalry. With back up arriving, Nick turned to the attackers. Not liking the new odds, three piled into a car and left. Nick let them go. In a matter of minutes the remaining few were taken care of.
“Perfect timing!” he greeted them.
Darrell shook his hand heartily. “Cutting it close.”
Nick grabbed hands and slapped shoulders with Everett, Istvan and Wisp. “Really glad to see you guys.”
“We have a safe place,” Wisp said. “You can rest.”
Nick forced a weak smile. With the crisis over, exhaustion weighed him down. He made a point of not looking at the bodies. More human beings gone out of the world when they needed every one of them to survive. “Thanks for finding me.”
“We need to get away from here.”
Nick looked down the driveway. “Trouble?”
With a dark scowl in the direction of the slaughterhouse, Wisp shivered. “This is a bad place.”
Nick offered them the new van which sported a couple new dings. Istvan drove with Everett and Darrell armed and ready in the second seat. Wisp directed them past the slaughterhouse to the far side of the cattle lot and down a cracked paved road. They rode a short distance to an older house surrounded by an overgrown picket fence. Nick hadn’t seen a peaked roof in years. It was a style that wasn’t used anymore. Wisp got out at the foot of the driveway to check for pursuit. As they pulled around to the back of the house, Nick saw a light in the kitchen. The men piled out of the van looking back to Wisp for an all clear. The biobot walked up the driveway with a distracted air.
“Everything okay?” Nick asked.
Wisp looked over his shoulder toward the road. “There’s something, but it’s not close.”
Chapter 56
“I often wonder if the so called Third World countries are faring better. They lived on the edge of technology closer to the land and the makers.”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
TILLY WANDERED AROUND the kitchen too distracted to settle on a task. Something was off. She knew she was in the way, but needed the comfort of the kitchen sounds and aromas. Pumpkin sat in the corner with an eye for falling scraps because there seemed to be a lot more of them lately. Tilly smiled at the kitten, relieved that there was one simple thing left in her world.
“Blue eyes,” Eunice said, joining Tilly at a work table.
“All kittens have blue eyes,” Tilly said, repeating something she’d been told.
“When they’re born, yeah, but these kittens are old enough to start turning. Blue eyes aren’t common, and all four of them stayed blue,” Eunice said.
“Everything’s changed.” Tilly didn’t like Eunice spoiling her enjoyment of the cats. Now they were something else that she had to watch to see how much they’d changed.
“Yes.” Eunice pulled a stool over. “Is everything all right?”
“I’m not sure,” Tilly said. “I can’t put my finger on it, but something feels off.”
“We’ve just fed the largest crowd yet, and I think it went well.”
Tilly patted Eunice’s shoulder. “You’re doing a wonderful job. Dinner went well. There’s something else that’s tugging at me. I just need a moment to think about it.”
“Cup of tea?” Eunice offered.
“No thank you. I’ve got some work to do.” Tilly went to her office. She checked the request bins. People had heard about Bruno’s scouting and were putting in requests for the most outlandish things. Young Joe wanted a ball peen hammer, whatever that was. The children had requested s
ome board games. Lottie wanted any pots or trays for planting and seed starting. Kyle had a list of lab equipment that she doubted even Bruno could uncover. They needed a better system. Bruno couldn’t stop at every house and page through a notebook. Tilly jotted a note to find someone good with databases to create something more accessible for him. An alphabetical list by category would work nicely. And since Elsa had started teaching the children to make paper, they didn’t have to worry about that either.
A tap on the door startled her out of her musings. Angus lumbered in hiking his walker along with a constant low grumbling.
“You could have sent someone to get me.”
Angus collapsed into the most comfortable chair with a theatrical groan. “Ruth says I need more exercise.”
“Is this a social visit?” she asked, adding a smile to lighten the tone.
“Yes and no. I’ve had a message from an old friend.”
Tilly looked a question at him.
“He sent me a message over the ether.” Angus shook his head, his mouth quirked in a half-smile. “Thought I might be dead, but then he saw one of our flyers.”
“Oh, and you’re sure he’s who he says he is?”
“I am. He mentioned some things that only he would know. We worked together before Zero Year. Told me he works for the trains. I asked about the Continental Line. Said he would talk to some people and to give his regards to Frank.”
“Was that all?”
“No. He sent me a link.” Angus tapped a finger against his leg. Tilly knew that meant he was thinking something through. She looked back to her papers. Sometimes it could take him a while to sort something out.
“It took me to a separate ether,” Angus said in a whisper.
“What does that mean?”
“It means he’s further on the inside than I am.”
“What does he want?”
“He heard we were researching the flu and wanted anything I felt able to share.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Everything. We can’t keep secrets now. Everyone needs to know everything because we could lose anyone any time. I told him as much. Let him know that the vaccines were changing us as much as the virus was. And we might not know the truth of that for a whole generation.”
Tilly didn’t agree about telling strangers everything. In a time without money, information was valuable. Angus knew this as well. “You trust him.”
“He said they shut down the trains for just the reasons we assumed. To stop the flu spreading and because they lost too many people. I told him the flu was done for this year, and we need the stations open.”
Tilly leaned forward as if hoping hard enough could change what would come. “Will they?”
“He said they would discuss it but...”
She tensed knowing from his expression and body language that the next words wouldn’t be easy. “But not our line?” she guessed.
“No, not that. He said the train food doesn’t come from the train people. They just stock it. I’m afraid that Nick might be tempted to check into it while he’s out there. But Halsted warned me that it was a very dangerous undertaking. Said the food people had their own militias and are a power unto themselves.”
“Nick knows what he’s doing,” Tilly said almost convincing herself.
“I’m hoping Wisp catches up with him before that. He’d be better off with someone to watch his back.”
“Yes,” Tilly said. “He’s a smart man. That’s exactly what he should do.”
Chapter 57
”In Year Ten, the numbers lost to the flu reached a crisis level for the remaining services. The train system shut down for a time. Only two processing plants were still working to put out the emergency rations. The loss of workers was so drastic that production halted entirely.”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
THE OLD BOARDS ON THE back porch groaned as Darrell charged up the steps. An errant breeze brought the fragrance of food cooking.
“Food and sleep,” Wisp said. “After you clean those wounds.” He gestured to Nick’s battered face.
Nick grunted an agreement, almost too tired to speak. He could relax his guard for the first time in days, and he was looking forward to the hot meal waiting for them.
Everett sniffed the night air. “Manure?”
“Whole herd of cows over there,” Nick said waving back the way they came. He followed Darrell into the house.
“Cows?” Everett jogged after him. “How big’s a herd?”
“A lot.” Nick shrugged. “There’s a slaughterhouse over there, but the people are dead or gone. I let the cows out of their pens.”
Both Istvan and Everett looked alarmed. “You can’t just let them loose,” Everett said.
“Well, I did.” Nick went to the stove to sneak a peek under pot lids.
Everett halted in the doorway, concern on his face. “They need access to water and−“
Nick cut him off. “There’s a meadow with a stream. They seemed happy enough.” He pointedly looked to Wisp. “Any sense of them?”
“I don’t feel any great distress,” he said. “But reading animals is difficult.”
“I guess there isn’t anything to be done tonight. What do you plan to do with them?” Everett asked.
Nick stared at him. “It’s a herd of cows. What could I possibly do with them? Load them into vans and drive them back to High Meadow?”
“They had to get here somehow,” Darrell said. “Did you see a cattle truck anywhere?”
“No, I had other concerns,” Nick said, pulling off his gun belt. He dropped it with a clatter on the counter.
Darrell looked chastened, but Everett didn’t give up. “We can’t just leave them there. How large is the field? How many cows? They’ll starve if we can’t find them adequate forage.”
Nick sighed. “You’re right, sorry.” He didn’t want to be the cause of death for those animals out of his own ignorance.
“I think I might know where they came from,” Istvan said.
“You know the farm that supplies this slaughterhouse?” Nick demanded.
Istvan snorted. “The slaughterhouse. There’s only one now. And these people are insane. They take the animals without any thought to the future. Three ranches wiped out in the last couple years. They take all the animals, male, female, yearlings.” He shook his head. “Can’t take them all.”
“That’s stupid,” Everett said, eyes flashing with anger. “There aren’t enough of them left to cull like that. If we don’t have adequate numbers left to breed, we’ll lose them. Why would the ranchers agree to that?”
“Nothing to agree to when they arrive with guns,” Istvan said.
“They aren’t thinking that far ahead,” Nick said in a low voice that caught their attention. “I met with the so called president. They have no understanding of reality. They’re just trying to create more government. They’re living in the past, expecting things to return to the way they were before Zero Year.”
“What did they say?” Ted asked. Nick could see a shadow of fear in his eyes.
“They want to reestablish the states and set up governorships.”
“To what purpose?” Everett asked.
“To set up a system that funnels all the food to a central location.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Ted said, his face scrunched in confusion.
“It will never happen,” Wisp said. “They can plan all they want, but unless they have the force, settlements will not be willing to give up their food to strangers.”
“Do they have the force?” Darrell asked.
“I don’t think so. There were a lot of armed guards, but I got the feeling they had a different agenda.”
“Or they lied to you,” Wisp said.
“A definite possibility,” Nick agreed.
Nixie announced that dinner was ready. They filled plates in the kitchen and settled around the dining room table. Ted halted them long enough
for him to wipe off the thick layer of dust on the old table.
“So what’s next?” Darrell asked looking to Nick.
“That slaughterhouse must supply a Stew-goo plant. I want to see if we can locate it. They can’t be too far from here.”
“But first we take care of the cattle,” Everett said. “How far is the closest ranch?”
Istvan raised a finger until he could swallow his mouthful of food. “I’m not sure where I am. I can tell you in the morning.”
“I’ll scout tonight if you like,” Wisp offered.
“I’d appreciate it if you could assess the area,” Nick said. “I feel very exposed out here.” He looked around the table meeting every eye. “And very glad to have backup.”
Chapter 58
“Stop-gap measures should never be allowed to become the norm.”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
ANGUS HEAVED HIMSELF up using his walker and headed for the door. They’d chewed over the small bit of information that they had until they’d both run out of ideas. Tilly went back to checking her lists of things that needed to be done, or delegated or figured out. That list got longer every day. She was so immersed in work that the first grunt went nearly unnoticed. It was after the fact, in the silence, that she realized she’d heard a sound. The next sound made her turn off the light in her office and creep to the door. Something very wrong was going on in the kitchen. A woman whimpered. A man gasped, and Tilly heard the painfully soft thud of a body hitting the floor.
Tilly listened with all of her might. A rough voice grumbled an order. A grunt and a mumbled question answered him.
“Because if you have control of the food, everybody toes the line,” a man growled.