by Megan Hart
“We could trade with them,” Avriham put in.
Ephraim shook his head. “What do we have to trade? We make nothing we don’t use. We have no extra. We have nothing of value to provide to anyone else, why would what we have left over be of any more use to any of them than to us?”
“They could join us.” Livna shrugged. “The offer was extended, long ago. Freshen our DNA pools. Bring in new skills. The Bridgers have no problem.”
“The Bridgers force people to join them, or they kill them. They take from others, they don’t give. And most importantly…those others are not like us.” Ephraim shook his head again.
Solomon snorted lightly. “Why not? Because their ancestors were goyim and ours were not? Do you really think it was keeping the sabbath that let more of us survive when most of them didn’t?”
“I do. Tell me you don’t,” Ephraim told the other man with a glare. “You, a member of the Beit Din, to say such things.”
Solomon only shrugged. Livna looked away. Even Avriham wouldn’t meet Ephraim’s gaze.
“We’re the Chosen. It’s why we, of all the people in this city, continued having children when the others were no longer blessed. Its why as they died out, we lived on. Yes, we’ve brought others into our community as time passed. We’ve always welcomed strangers. Of course. But it’s because of our faith. Our ability to adapt without losing our laws and traditions. That’s why we are now some two-thousand strong and surviving here in peace when the rest of the world is still empty or battling against each other.”
The rest of the room was silent. Ephraim looked at them all, then scrubbed at his face. So weary. “So. Let’s talk about what we can do to make things better.”
“Maybe you should ask Adonai to send us a miracle,” muttered Avriham.
If only that could happen.
−7-
“How many times do I have to tell you?” Tobin snapped. “My name isn’t James Bond.”
“See? See? I told you he’s a liar! And a man who lies will be a thief!”
That was Asaph again. He seemed to be taking a perverse pleasure in trying to aggravate Tobin. After three hours of the old man’s gabbing, Tobin now just tuned him out. That only seemed to agitate the old Gatherer so he tried even harder.
“Asaph, for the love of Ha-Shem, shut up!” The woman said. Apparently the old man was succeeding in aggravating somebody, if not Tobin.
“He has a point, Zmorah,” a man called Gavish said, though he too looked fed-up with Asaph’s blabber.
“Yeah, on the top of his head,” Tobin muttered, and stifled a laugh. He was exhausted and getting punchy, as Old Ma would have said. Laughter didn’t seem to be the most appropriate reaction to the situation. He could tell it confused them, and that was just fine with him.
The one with the white hair spoke next. “You did tell us your name was James Bond.”
Tobin groaned and hung his head. “We’ve been over this already.”
“You were lying,” Zmorah said. “He’s lying, Levi.”
“Yes,” Tobin said with an impatient sigh. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and glanced longingly at his bedroll. In another few hours it would be light, and he doubted he’d get any sleep then, either. “But only because…shit.”
Raised eyebrows from the lot of them. Apparently cursing went over as well as lying did. Tobin coughed, wishing he’d had more experience with people. Old Pa had cursed like a sailor, Old Ma was fond of saying, but Tobin didn’t quite know how a sailor cursed.
He tried again. “I was being sarcastic.”
The gatherer with the dark skin was Ari. He seemed to be the leader. Now he looked at Tobin thoughtfully, his black brows knitted over eyes as dark as the night outside.
“If you lie about your name, how can we trust anything else you tell us?”
“I don’t know,” Tobin said. “But I told you I lied about the name. I mean, that I was being sarcastic about it. Anyway, why would I lie to you about where I got my stuff?”
“Because you’re a nasty, dirty liar!” Asaph crowed. A look from the others shushed him, but Tobin could tell the old man wouldn’t stay silent for long. He didn’t have it in him to be quiet.
They called the quietest and youngest gatherer Dov. “You might lie because you stole these things.”
Tobin looked around the dirty, bare room. They’d taken him into another building. The room was vast and dilapidated. Huge stone pillars rose in even rows, and far in the back was a long, high desk. They’d told him it had once been a hotel. Aside from the six gatherers and Tobin, and his belongings, the room was empty.
“From who? From where?” Tobin pointed around the room. “Places like this?”
Tobin got up and kicked his backpack until it fell over. Everything inside spilled out, clanging on the hard stone floor. Echoes filled the room for several minutes before dying away.
“Do you see stuff like this here?” He glared at his captors. “Huh? Do you see anything?”
“There’s lotsa stuff to be gathered in the city.” Tall and hugely muscled, the man called Luz had been the one to drag Tobin inside the building.
“New like this?” Tobin knew he was getting in the other man’s face and didn’t care. “Unused?”
Zmorah and Ari shared a look. “No,” she said. “That’s why we’re confused.”
“Well, hot damn,” Tobin said, more to see her flinch than because he really wanted to swear. “What do you want me to say? I told you. I found this stuff in a huge warehouse off the Transcon. There were enough goods in there to feed and clothe a thousand people, probably. All of it unused, and all of it good. If I could’ve taken more of it with me, I would have.”
Ari grunted. “We work six days out of seven, eleven months out of twelve, to find food and clothes and necessary items for the Tribe. If this place really exists…”
Dov sighed. “We’d be set for life!”
Zmorah bent to paw through his belongings. The group had been through it all ten times already, but Tobin didn’t stop her. He thought she just might want to touch the things again. He knew how she felt.
Tobin couldn’t see much of her in the lantern light, but he thought she was about his age. He couldn’t tell whether or not she was pretty…hell. What did he know about pretty, anyway? What he’d seen in pictures.
“There are places in the city we haven’t covered yet.” Zmorah caressed the fleece jacket. Her voice sounded wistful. “Lots of apartments. Lots of offices. Buildings we haven’t explored beyond the fifth or sixth floors. And beyond that, we could branch out to the houses on the long island…”
She paused and her voice broke as though she might cry. “But to find it all in one place! And looking like this! I can’t believe it!” To Tobin’s surprise, she did start to cry.
“It’s hard for us,” Ari said. “The Tribe is two thousand strong now, James.”
“Tobin,” he corrected.
The older man stared at him, then smiled. “Tobin. We have two thousand people living here, in a city that once housed millions. And yet, after only a few hundred years, we’re struggling to feed and clothe ourselves. We have huge storerooms filled with goods, but they can only last so long with a population our size. We look for more, all the time. We go into these old buildings and we search the places people used to live. Anything we find, we gather. It’s how we survive.”
Tobin thought of Eastport, and how he’d been alone for so long. They hadn’t gone hungry there, but life hadn’t been easy. He couldn’t imagine living in this city of stone and pavement and rubbish. How could anything survive without sunshine and grass? And water?
“Why don’t you leave?”
“Leave!” Gavish said. “And go where? We’ve lived here for hundreds of years!”
“We have a way of life, Tobin,” Ari explained. “We have a government, and schools, and housing. We’ve adapted our territory to our comfort and well-being. Asking the Tribe to give all that up and start fresh would be
like asking a baby to give up its suck.”
“Two thousand people.” Tobin gave a low whistle. Bending, he stuffed his backpack full again, then rocked back on his heels. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen two thousand of anything before in my life. Damn. Is that even a real number?”
Ari laughed. “Sure it is. You’ll see, when you come with us.”
Tobin shook his head. “I’m not coming with you.”
Another glance all around. “Yes, you are,” Ari said firmly. “You have to show us how to get to this place. This warehouse off the...the what.”
“The Transcon. The highway. Look,” Tobin said, trying to be nice. “Even if I showed you how to get there, it’s at least a week’s journey away. And once you get there, how are you possibly going to carry enough stuff back with you to make it worth your while?”
They all looked at him blankly, even Asaph. They shared another of those stupid looks again, like they all knew what the other was thinking. Only he didn’t know. He felt out of place, and more a stranger than he’d ever thought he could. He didn’t like it. It made him feel stupid, and worse, lonely.
“We’d put it in the trucks,” Luz said, in a tone that clearly said he, at least, thought Tobin was stupid.
Now it was Tobin’s turn to stare blankly. “Trucks?”
“Sure,” Luz said. He flexed his arms, something he seemed to enjoy. “Our trucks. The Tribe’s got more trucks than any other territory. And they all work.”
“I…I didn’t think anything like that worked anymore,” Tobin said.
He had to sit down. He knew what a truck was, sure. He’d seen the rusted-out hulks at home and on his travels. He’d never believed he’d see one that worked.
“They run on the same batteries that power everything else,” Zmorah said. She’d recovered from her spate of tears. As she moved into the lantern light, Tobin saw that she was, indeed, pretty. “They take a lot of power, though.”
“But if there are as many batteries in that store as you say,” Dov said excitedly, “We could use the power to get there! We’d have enough to do that, at least. And we could gather more there, enough to get us back again.”
“Providing the roads are in decent repair,” Ari said thoughtfully. “We’d have to take a crew along with us for road clearing. And for breakdowns. We’ve never taken the trucks out of the city before --”
“But it could work, it really could!” Gavish cried.
Tobin grinned. Their enthusiasm was infectious. He couldn’t begrudge them the same excitement he’d felt after stumbling on the treasure trove in that huge store. He just didn’t have to be a part of the journey.
He sobered. “The exit ramps were all destroyed. No trucks will be able to get up them.”
Ari frowned, looking at the others. “We’d have to leave by the bridge.”
The others fell silent.
“We could do it,” Ari added. “We have the trucks.”
“Yeah, and they have an insane desire to kill anyone who crosses their bridge.” Gavish punched one fist lightly into the other.
“How do we know,” Asaph piped up in his wheedling old man’s voice, “that he’s not just lying again to keep us from it? Maybe he’s a Bridger! Maybe he’s a spy!”
Tobin wanted to punch the old man right in the mouth. He didn’t. But he wanted to.
“You don’t,” Tobin said. He met the gaze of each gatherer in turn. “You’ll just have to trust me.”
“You’ll have to show us where to go once we get beyond the bridge,” Ari said.
“I can let you copy my map,” Tobin said carefully. At his words, he saw them all exchange looks he couldn’t interpret. “But I can’t go with you. I told you, I’m going to California.”
Luz snorted, flexing his huge arms again. Tobin thought he did it just to show how strong he was. It didn’t impress him; he’d seen the Conan the Barberian movie on Old Pa’s eTablet.
“There is no California,” Luz said, his voice thick with scorn.
Tobin bristled. “Maybe. Maybe not. But there’s something West of here, and I’m heading for it.”
“Why?” Zmorah asked.
Tobin shrugged. “Why not?”
“You’ll show us this place,” Ari said calmly, as though arguing with a child. “And then you’ll go on to California, or wherever you want.”
“No.” Tobin shook his head. “I told you, it’s back the wrong way. At least a week. Less if you travel by truck, I guess, but still too long for me. Sorry, but I’ve got to decline your offer.”
“It’s not an offer,” Ari said. “And it isn’t an option. You have been gathered, Tobin Winter.”
They were on him with the swiftness of cats. Luz bound Tobin’s arms behind him before he could even struggle. Though he tried to kick out, the others ducked away from his flailing feet with practiced ease. Zmorah scooped up his backpack and knapsack, slinging them over her slim shoulders. Gavish grabbed his sleeping bag, and Dov took the bike. Asaph just laughed and pointed a bony finger. Tobin worked up enough spittle to send a gob flying the old man’s way, but it missed him. Asaph only laughed harder.
They took him out into the street again, their lanterns bobbing until the bouncing light made his head spin. After a moment they turned off the lights. Apparently they not only moved like cats, they could see in the dark too.
Luz grunted, shoving him along. “Hurry up!”
Tobin’s toe hit a patch of buckled pavement. Without the use of his arms to break his fall, he landed on his face. White stars flashed in front of his eyes. The pain was nauseating, horrible, all-engulfing. For one bad moment he thought he might pass out.
“Don’t kill him,” Zmorah said.
Luz only grunted and hauled him to his feet, holding Tobin up when his legs buckled. Hot blood oozed from several places on his face. His nose and jaw throbbed with every step, but he didn’t cry out. He might not know about people, but he knew about pride.
“Move it!” Luz said.
Tobin moved, grateful for the muscle man’s hands on him only because without them he would have stumbled and fallen again. His eyes might have adjusted to the lack of light before, but now with his face on fire from pain he doubted he’d be able to see straight even when the sun came up.
They’d only gone a block or so when Luz pushed him down an alley to the right. Stumbling again, Tobin managed to go down on one knee instead of falling entirely. Amazingly, the bigger man left him there without tugging him onward.
The rumble of thunder bellowed suddenly in front of him; blazing white light turned night into day. A monster rose up before him, stinking and roaring. Tobin screamed, his voice lost in the roar before him, and fell back.
−8-
It was wrong to want to cry and have no tears. It was wrong to want what any human being wanted – simple, genuine affection, and be denied. It was wrong to love and not be loved in return.
Elanna sat up and scrubbed her face with her palms. Her head ached, but her thinking was clear. From the hall outside came the pounding of feet. The hushed murmur of voices. She sat up, swung her feet out of bed, waited for the room to start spinning. Or to stop.
Before she could, a white-faced Tikva appeared in the doorway. Elanna was in no mood to deal with the other girl, but Tikva didn’t seem in the mood to talk to her, either. Instead she went straight to her narrow bed and tossed herself down onto it, face first.
Elanna sighed. “What’s the matter?”
Tikva raised her face. “Leah had her baby.”
“Oh?” Elanna brightened. Leah was only a few years older than her and had been there all through Elanna’s many births. She frowned after a moment, though. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? I’d have been there.”
“The baby...”
“Oh.” Elanna bit the inside of her cheek. “Did it die?”
Tikva shook her head. She shuddered and bit her lower lip, then gasped out a sob. “No!”
“Then what?”
“It’s n
ot right,” Tikva whispered hoarsely. “It’s not...right.”
“No.” Elanna breathed the word and drew her feet up onto the bed as though a gobbling lay in wait beneath. “No. It couldn’t be.”
Leah would never have done what Elanna had let herself do. Tikva burst out a sob, burying her face in the pillow again. Elanna swallowed sickness that had nothing to do with the life growing inside her.