by S A Ison
“That one.” She indicated a dark blue plastic tote on the top shelf. Blake lifted the tote carefully, moving another, smaller cardboard box off and setting it aside. Mamma Kena handed Blake the flashlight and he held it above her as she opened the tote. A fug of mothballs floated up to tickle his nose and he rubbed at it. He saw colorful fabrics, neatly folded. Her gnarled and knotted hands sifted through the colors, plucking out this or that. She checked for a tag on the inside of a collar from time to time, but grunted and kept scrutinizing and after she laid out about half a dozen garments, she looked up.
“This should get you going for now. When you and Alice come by for dinner, I’ll have more for you.” She grinned. Blake returned her smile.
“I’ll put this back up, when we come over. Did you need me to do anything else while I’m here?”
The old woman considered for a few moments, looking around the shed. She nodded and pointed to another box, up on the top shelf. Blake handed her the flashlight and set the box down. He then picked up the clothing.
“Thank you, Mamma Kena, I think you saved that boy’s life.” Blake said and then, surprising himself, bent and place a gentle kiss on her cheek. She giggled and he grinned at her and winked.
“Just call me Kena, I’m not much older than you, darlin.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously.
“I can believe that.” He grinned. He walked back around the house and got back into the truck. Life was becoming more and more bizarre. First, the possibility of Pythagoras Falls, the mad dash to the cabin, now a child. Blake had thought about many things if or when the world went to hell, but gaining a child hadn’t been one of them.
Kena shifted several of the boxes. She felt great satisfaction in taking out that piece of shit. She’d been wanting to do that for years now. Watching his nappy ass go up and down the river. Causing nothing but trouble. She knew he ran drugs, but he was a sneaky little bastard and no one could prove it. She grunted in laughter. Guess she’d taken care of that little problem.
That poor child, the Lord only knew what he’d been through. He was sure the boy was safe now, Alice had a tender heart, more tender than probably was good. But Blake seemed to know his way around in the world and Kena had seen the gun Alice was toting. The girl was learning, that was good. You couldn’t be too nice in this rough world, and now, it seemed more than ever, you had to be just a little ruthless.
TEN
Fargo, GA
Alice held the small form in her arms, his small face slack with sleep. She and Blake were sitting on the porch, she was glad that Blake had the forethought to screen it in. It wasn’t a big porch like Kena’s wrap around porch, but it had the screen. She could detect the high-pitched whining of the mosquitoes and splashes from the river reached her ears. The night creatures were active and it had taken her some time to acclimate to all the sounds of the night. The frogs were lending their voices to the serenade and at times, for just a moment, all noise ceased. A breathless hush and then the music began again.
She could hear Travis’s stomach rumble, she was sure it had been the first time in many days, the child had a full belly. She fervently wished that Kena could have shot the bastard over and over. To treat a child so. She let out a long sigh.
“You alright?” Blake asked, she couldn’t see him, it was that dark.
“Yes, I was just thinking about that piece of garbage. Just makes me so angry.” Her voice was pitched low, so not to wake the child in her arms. He was heavy and warm in her arms. It had taken a few hours, but they got Travis’s name and his age. When she had asked him, the boy had held up two fingers, then slowly a third. Alice guess that the boy had just turned three some months before. He jabbered, but much of it was incoherent. He wanted his mommy and daddy. He was able to say he had to pee, but more often, would grab his crotch and hop around.
The boy still stank, and she planned on another bath in the morning. Alice figured it was due to poor nutrition, if not out and out starvation. She had seen worms in his stool and Kena had given her a home remedy and Alice had also given Travis a large helping of chopped rehydrated carrots.
“I’m sure the gators have taken care of him. I’m glad she shot him as well. Honestly, I was unsure about how to get the Travis without shooting Shift.”
“You would have gotten the child?” Alice asked, she was surprised.
“Of course, I’m not a monster, Ali. Christ. But I wasn’t sure about out and out killing the man. Kena took care of that for me.”
The scent of cigar smoke wafted to Alice and she inhaled deeply. He didn’t smoke his cigars often, but she loved when he did. It brought back fond memories of her father. A smile creased her lips. Kena smoked a pipe and Blake had given her one of his cigars tonight, at dinner. The old woman had been tickled and had tucked it away. She saw the cherry of fire that seemed to float in midair.
Dinner had consisted of fried fish, kudzu salad, fried kudzu leaves and baked kudzu root. Alice had never eaten the plant, though she had known what it was. It was all delicious and so versatile, the stuff grew all over the south and covered and smothered everything it touched.
“I still can’t believe you can eat kudzu. This place is covered in it.” Alice said and heard Blake grunt, then laugh.
“At least we’ll get our vitamins. Just be careful when you pick it. Snakes and spiders love all that foliage. Use a long stick to chase anything away, when you go out to pick it.”
“Kena said that she makes flour from the root. She grinds it up. She and I are going to get some tomorrow. She’s going to show me how to make it.”
“That will be handy. We’ve got enough flour to last us for a while, but that will eventually run out. It’s nice to know there is an alternative.” Blake said and he must have stretched, the sound of joints popping filled the void.
“She’s also going to show me some of the other plants for medicinal use and for eating. We’re also going to visit other neighbors; ones she says we can trust.”
“I’m really glad she came to visit us. She’s a remarkable woman. I wonder how old she is?”
“It’s hard to tell. She talks about great grandchildren, so she must be in her late seventies or perhaps eighties. She doesn’t look it though.” Travis shifted then and a staccato of farts vibrated against Alice’s arm. It would seem that the beans were doing their job.
Ω
Kena Whaldren sat in her rocking chair, she thought perhaps, it was sometime after midnight. She’d not watched a clock in years. The cigar that Blake had given her was aromatic and smooth. It made her a little dizzy and she enjoyed it. She would smoke it and then stub it out for another smoke later, enjoying it fully. From time to time, she smoked wild lettuce, if she were feeling discomfort or painful. It helped with the pain from her spine. Somewhere, she heard a dog backing, it wasn’t the pup, but some big dog. Sounds traveled along the Suwannee. She’d heard that child, Travis, crying, long before she saw him on the flat boat. She’d heard that trash, Shift, cursing him and knew the scoundrel had taken the child.
She was tired of seeing wrong done, especially to the helpless. Blake had said that the power wasn’t coming back, ever. Said that there was no law, nor government. Kena thought that perhaps it was now her time, to set a few things right. A satisfied smile broke over her dark features. It had been satisfying to put a bullet into that sonofabitch’s black heart. She grunted with amusement. Perhaps she’d take Milton’s AR15 and go do a little vigilante justice on her own. She liked that idea, liked it just fine.
Ω
Calkins, MT
Miles was turning the dial, static crackled out of the antient radio. The living room was full, the front door closed against the storm without. The wind buffeted the farmhouse and it creaked and groaned like some disgruntled spirit. Phoenix smiled; Yuma looked around him nervously. Phoenix’s old apartment was like this house, it had been old and when the weather turned cold and blustery, the old apartment building made god-awful noises.
Christmas
had come and gone two days ago, he and Lydia had been going around and around about leaving and heading to Seattle. He didn’t want her coming and she refused to be left behind. They were at a stalemate. Lydia was sitting beside Jael, who was teaching her how to knit. Miles was fiddling with the old radio that he and Yuma had found wrapped in canvas, out in the barn. Phoenix watch Yuma, the man still wore the gun at his hip, but he’d put the Stetson on the coat tree by the front door.
Bob had suggested that Yuma squeeze a rubber ball, to maintain strength and mobility in his damaged hand. Yuma was now squeezing the ball absently. From time to time, the man would wince, but he was working hard to heal his hand. There was a light gauze bandage on his hand now. Yuma wanted to learn how to ride a horse, but Bob had nixed that idea for now.
“Your hand needs to be fully healed. Controlling a horse takes practice and some strength, especially in your hands.” The veterinarian advised. Phoenix thought that perhaps Yuma wanted to have some control in his life. Their first day at the farmhouse, his control had been taken away and he’d been nearly killed. They were all becoming proficient with their weapons. Jael had opened the gun safe in the basement and they’d been surprised at all the hardware stored within.
“Rich liked his guns.” Jael had blushed. Inside were numerous handguns, rifles and two AR15s. One AR15 had a pink camouflage design. “Rich had gotten me that on our tenth anniversary. I’ve only target practiced with it a few times.” She continued. The other AR had a scope on it, a Vortex Optics Sparc. Jael now carried her pink AR on her at all times, when she was outside, slung across her back. Her Glock G26 in a waist holster. It must have sounded like a firing range for the first week, all of them practicing and becoming aquatinted with their chosen weapon. No one went outside unarmed. The weapons were kept close at hand in the house.
Julian and Miles had repaired the door, using plywood over the opening. They had also attached cleats to the wall studs and at night two thick boards were set across the door. They had done the same with the kitchen door. At night, the house was locked down. Thor and Albert slept downstairs as early warning. They had decided not to set a guard, though they took turns sleeping on the couch at night, an AR15 near at hand.
“With so few people around, the chances should be small. We’ve already killed three. Hopefully, that will be it. We’ve not seen a soul since the first day.” Miles had reasoned.
Phoenix turned his head when he heard a voice on the old radio. Miles and Yuma had rewired the old radio and had put a new electric cord and plug on it. It was plugged into the small solar generator.
“I think I found something. Let me back it up.” Miles said excitedly.
Everyone was watching him, their faces illuminated by the small solar lanterns. They kept the candles and hurricane lanterns for standby, when the small lanterns lost their charge. Julian was sprawled out on the floor, his head pillowed on Thor, who was snoring away, uninterested in the machinations of the humans. Lydia had plaited his long blond hair, into a single braid. He had also started growing a beard. Miles remained clean shaven, but Yuma and Phoenix had also grown out their beards. It was warmer.
“Unsure what’s true…leaflets. A lot of rumors…” A man’s voice said clearly, then broke up with static.
“You got it.” Julian sat up abruptly, jerking Thor from his slumber. He woofed and looked around the room, startled. Then he sneezed in annoyance and laid his large head back down and closed his eyes.
“Hold on.” Miles said excited as he fiddled with the knob.
“Many are dead, I drove near…you can smell it. Got a good set of binos…Didn’t see any troops though. I’m relaying what I heard on th…can’t vouch for…D.C. was destroyed…not the buildings, just people…but don’t underst…weapon used. The flyers or leaflets are…” The transmission was gone and static filled the quiet room. Miles turned the radio off, his face frozen and dead white. For some reason, that terrified Phoenix.
“What is it Miles? Do you know what’s happened?” Phoenix asked in a low voice. Miles felt the sting of tears. He could not be one hundred percent sure, but close enough. He had to tell his friends; it was a deadly secret he could no longer keep. He owed them that and though he had tried to stop Pythagoras, he had failed, and had only delayed the inevitable. Looking around the room at the faces of the people he had come to love, Miles took in a deep shaky breath.
“I think I know, but let me tell you a little history. Back in 2003, I was hired by the United States government, to be a part of a team, to develop a weapon’s platform. This was a black project, that means, it was incredibly secret. Perhaps a handful of people in the whole government knew about the project. We called it Pythagoras.”
“So, you were like some kind of scientist?” Julian asked, getting up from the floor and setting on the couch, Lydia moving closer to Phoenix.
“Yes, I had worked for the government in some form or fashion, for most of my career. I was a junior scientist, and I had a key part of the weapon to develop. The thing is, I thought the weapon was for surgical strikes. In skirmishes and conflicts, the project was compartmentalized and so I worked on my part of the project. When I found out, that the government was wanting to put the weapon into space, to use a satellite as the platform, I knew I couldn’t be a part of that.”
“I don’t understand.” Jael said, and Miles’ heart twisted as tears slid down her pretty face. He cleared his throat.
“The government does a great deal of weapons development. It keeps our troops safe, better defense and so on. I’d been involved for years, in that kind of thing. Especially after 9/11. I wanted to protect our country. I felt it was my duty, I wanted my country safe. But then, two years after I started the project, I found out that Pythagoras was going to be used on a larger scale, as in, a weapon of mass destruction. I couldn’t be a part of that. In wars, people die. Sadly, there is also collateral damage, but, with Pythagoras, it was intentional damage to anything that got in the way. Pythagoras was meant to kill a city; Pythagoras was meant to kill a country.” Miles stopped as those around him gasped in horror. His own heart was thumping heavily in his chest, and tremors move through his body.
Miles cleared his throat and continued, watching the expectant faces around him. “I stole files and documents that were critical to the project. I stole, deleted and altered numbers, calculations and other crucial data, to either stall or kill the project. I was only one of several other scientists, but my data was vital to the project. I left the site, and I disappeared. If they ever found me, I would disappear, they would wipe me off the face of the earth. So, I came to Montana.”
“Jesus Christ. So, you think the government succeeded?” Phoenix asked, his normally strong voice choked with suppressed emotions.
“I think so, but I can’t know for sure. What I think may have happened was that either there has been some malfunction, or another country acquired the weapon and has used it on us. This is my fault, and I’m so sorry. My god, I’m so sorry. I tried to stop them. I failed.” Miles wept, his head falling into his hand and his body shook with weeping. He felt hands around him and someone shoved a handkerchief into his hands.
“No, you old fool, it isn’t your fault.” Jael said into his ear.
“I helped develop that weapon, Jael.” He argued, wiping his face.
“Miles, you were a cog, and perhaps a big one. But you destroyed and altered data. A government will do what they will. They will rebuild, alter or destroy. But a single man, cannot do this. Your government wanted a weapon. With or without you, Miles san, they succeeded. In Japan, we as a people knew that our lives were on borrowed time, as you Americans say. Our world is a destructive and violent world. It was only matter of time.” Yuma said softly and the nodding heads around him agreed.
“Our country is notorious for doing dirty and underhanded deeds, Miles. If you would have stayed, how long would it have taken to finish the project.” Lydia asked.
“Only a couple of years.” Miles sa
id numbly.
“You at least stalled them for, what, fifteen years? I don’t think you had any part of this, Miles. They were bound and determined to get their weapon. They got it, and then some.” Lydia laughed bitterly.
“If someone else got their hands on the weapon, then there was some kind of leak. If you say this was a black operation. Someone sold us out. Over the last few years, China and Russia have been digging into our industries and breaking into our infrastructures. They’ve screwed with elections, social media and financial platforms. It may well have been them, or they designed their own weapon and hit us first. Or, North Korea hit us.” Julian said.
“Yes, this is possible. There is no way of telling.” Miles agreed.
“I guess it boils down to us surviving our government’s stupidity, or some other country’s attack.” Jael said practically and Miles smiled at her adoringly. She was one hell of a woman. She leaned in and kissed his cheek and he felt hands patting him on the shoulder and back. He wanted to cry once more, for the love he felt in this home.
“I’ve been thinking about heading to Seattle.” Phoenix announced and the room quieted, all heads turned to him.
“What? You’re leaving us?” Jael said, her voice raising.
“I’m going with him.” Lydia said, her jaw jutting out with an obdurate tilt. Miles watched the byplay; Phoenix didn’t look happy about that announcement.
“When would you leave?” Yuma wanted to know.
“Look, I want to go find my parents. I’ve been thinking, that maybe, if in a couple months, when the harshest part of winter is over, I can take the jeep. With your permission, Miles, and take the gas cans, I can maybe make the trip in about two to three days.”