TRIBES

by Mia Frances

  She broke through the brush at the top of the slope and slipped and slid her way down. Before her foot even touched the rocky bottom, she pulled the pants from around her neck and threw them down, then ran to the opposite embankment and began the arduous climb back up, all the while thinking about the shirt. It was stained with blood. She felt weak, her arms and legs throbbing, as she clawed her way up the slippery incline, grabbing hold of roots and brush to keep from falling. Reaching the top, she peeked over the edge, eyes darting from tree to tree looking for movement. It seemed ominously quiet for some reason. Sensing danger, Alex waited, the minutes ticking by. With her knuckles turning white, she finally climbed over the edge, huddling in the brambles. Alex used her teeth and a knife to cut and shred the collar and cuffs of the shirt, the places the blood hadn't soiled; then, thrusting her bare hands through the maze of prickers, began sticking the tattered rags on the thorns. Her hands were scratched and bleeding by the time she finished. With any luck, they'd think the shirt had been torn from the thorns by the wind. She burst into tears, her emotions a mixture of anxiety, exhaustion, guilt, and despair.

  Alex's feet pounded the ground as she veered through the forest. Her side ached, muscles cramping, but she didn't dare stop. She needed to escape the horror, leave it behind. A pain ripped through her belly. It felt like something was moving inside her, trying to scratch its way out. She pressed her hand to her side, then stumbled and fell. Sprawled on the ground, she took refuge behind a battered stump. Her side throbbed, her lungs straining for air. Alex looked around bewildered, not knowing where she was. In her panic, she'd lost sight of the trail. She looked for a landmark, something familiar, but if she'd passed this way before, she didn't remember it. She wasn't lost, not really. She was still heading in the right direction, due south, toward the Cedar River Flow. Weary, Alex shut her eyes, only to have them spring open again. It was there in her mind's eye, swinging aimlessly back and forth, stark red against a backdrop of green.

  Her breathing eased, the pain in her side subsiding, yet the feeling lingered in her belly. It didn't hurt anymore, not like cramps. More like wings fluttering inside her. She stared down at the slight swelling below her waist. She laid her hand on it, then quickly pulled it back. Alex could feel something moving beneath the denim. It wasn't her imagination. Not nerves or indigestion. She stared down at the bump in disbelief, then slowly undid her pants and slipped a cautious hand against the bare skin. Her eyes widened. She could feel it moving, feel life growing inside her. She was pregnant? Alex bit her lip and shook her head. A baby? Wasn't her life fucked up enough already? Shaking, she slowly stood up, her hand forming a fist. Glaring at her belly, she lifted her arm, ready to punch and beat it.

  Alex stared at her hand in dismay, then dropped it to her side. She hadn't had a period since before Christmas, couldn't even be sure who the father was, one of the men who'd nearly killed her or Wolf. It was a cruel trick that it happened now. Alex had wanted a baby when she was married to Matt, but not anymore. She couldn't feed and care for her little tribe with a swollen belly or infant latched onto her breast. Having this baby would threaten their survival. Allowing it to live would mean deprivation, possibly death, for the rest of them. Alex was heartsick. Anguished by the choices facing her. She gazed glumly ahead, then looked down at the barely noticeable swelling beneath her belt. Refastening her pants, she wearily began hiking home.

  Chapter 26

  Alex stumbled through the night, shuddering at every sound, her head throbbing with worry. She'd left the children alone, Deana and Charles standing watch, guns loaded beside their chairs. She'd told them nothing of what she'd seen, only that the danger was real and that they needed to be on guard against it. They hadn't asked her where she was going, but she suspected they knew. A full moon glowed overhead as she picked her way through the shadows. She didn't know where she was going, just kept walking, even as her hope faded.

  She'd left the road at sunset, turning into the woods just beyond the Silver Run Creek. That's where she'd lost his trail and where she hoped to find him. It had been three hours and she was still looking. Alex had been searching the banks of the South Branch of the Moose River for some sign of him, a crudely built shelter, a campfire; but with each step, each passing moment, the prospect of that dimmed. She tried to convince herself that he was alive and well, but feared the worst. Broad shoulders, narrow hips, long legs: that was what she'd seen hanging in the branches. That was an apt description of Wolf. She swallowed hard. She wouldn't let herself go there. He was safe! She had to believe that.

  Alex looked at the river, shimmering like a field of sparkling diamonds in the moonlight. Untouched by the calamities and horrors that had befallen the rest of the world. Alex walked toward the edge and for a split second imagined herself slipping beneath the dark waters. No pain, no fear, just an icy embrace, carrying her gently into the never-ending night. The lapping water drew her nearer with its promise of peace. She peered into the beckoning darkness; then, shivering, quickly stepped back, forcing herself to look away, breaking its spell. Alex didn't know what was happening to her; why, after struggling so long and hard to stay alive, she suddenly wanted to die. Life had become too heavy a burden to bear. Sometimes it just seemed easier to end it all. Alex thought back to the awful winter and how close they'd come to starving, yet they'd survived. Held onto their dreams of spring, sunshine, and full bellies. Reality was encroaching on those dreams now. Spring was here, as was the sunshine and the onions, but with them came a new danger. They'd escaped the fallout, avoided starvation, and evaded marauding bands of thugs. And for what? To be threatened by bloodthirsty cannibals? They hadn't escaped the devastation of the war, hadn't found the sanctuary they were seeking. It still eluded them.

  She kept thinking of Wolf and that headless, mutilated corpse. For all his faults, he'd been her rock, her shelter in the storm, a pillar of strength she could cling to in times of trouble. He was half guardian angel, half demon, both barbarian and benefactor, a strange mixture of brutality and gentleness, cruelty and caring. A lump grew in her throat. How could she go on if...

  Alex stopped herself, afraid to even think it. She couldn't face the world without him. Just knowing he was out there someplace made her feel less alone, less afraid. She swallowed hard, thinking herself foolish for allowing her fears free rein. She didn't know for certain that his was the body she'd seen. And, even if she couldn't find him tonight, that still didn't mean she should assume the worst. The forest was a vast place, he could be anywhere. Taking a deep breath, she continued the search.

  Her legs were aching as she stumbled over stones in the gloom. She'd been walking for miles, yet had found no sign of him. The events of the day played over and over in her head as she tried to put things in proper perspective. Concerned that the pregnancy would adversely affect her and the children's chances of survival, she thought seriously about aborting the fetus. It wouldn't be all that difficult: a fall down a steep, rocky slope to shake it loose; piling weights on her belly to crush it; even tearing it from her body with a coat hanger. But in the end, Alex decided she could do none of those things. She couldn't bring herself to do the baby harm. Though she didn't relish the thought of another mouth to feed or another body to take care of, it seemed a sin to extinguish its life. The fact that it had been conceived at all, the result of a brutal rape, in the aftermath of a nuclear war, under lethal clouds of radiation, and still grow in her womb, clinging tenaciously to life, seemed a miracle. Though she sometimes thought that death was preferable to this living hell, she couldn't make that decision for the baby. Even when Alex had shivered with cold, her limbs weary from exhaustion, belly empty and aching, it had held on, refusing to die. Knowing that, how could she deny her little one a chance to be born?

  It was insanity to bring a child into this miserable world. She couldn't help worrying about the effects the radiation, her meager diet, and her age might have on the child. Would it be born frail and sickly, retarded, or grossly
deformed? Alex took comfort in the thought that it must be strong. How else could it have survived this long? Her mother used to say that God takes care of His mistakes: babies that weren't viable were either miscarried, stillborn, or died soon after birth. She prayed her mother was right, because in the aftermath of this war, only the strongest and smartest would survive. Those born unfit to withstand the rigors and hardships of this cruel, new world would die.

  Alex tried to push the negative thoughts away. It was healthy; it had to be! And if it wasn't? She'd deal with it then. The fact that she felt it moving made her think she was at least four months along. That would place the time of conception back to December and the rape. How it had managed to grow with all the bleeding, raging fevers, and rampaging infections, was beyond her. But somehow it had. Alex patted her tummy, her distress giving way to resignation. She'd worked hard to banish the memories of that day from her mind, but she couldn't have amnesia any more. Within her swelling belly grew the spawn of one of her attackers. Even from the grave, the son of a bitch reached out to torture her.

  She pulled the jacket tight around her. It was getting chilly, the wind sending shivers through her bones. She was beginning to think the search was futile, but wouldn't give up. She had to find him, know he was safe.

  Alex kept thinking about the body, remembering the gunshots she'd heard yesterday, wondering if they were in any way connected. She kept telling herself that what she'd seen was an isolated instance of barbarism, an aberration, not the beginning of a wholesale slaughter. She'd read stories about a plane crash in the Andes. With no other food available to them, the survivors had resorted to cannibalizing the bodies of their dead companions. The same thing happened out west in the mid-1800s with the snowbound Donner party. But eating the flesh of corpses to survive was different from hunting human beings for food. There'd been no bloodstains on the clothing she'd found. If he'd died of gunshot or knife wounds, she'd have seen evidence of that: holes, powder burns, or splatters of blood on the fabric. Though she couldn't be sure the pants and shirt belonged to the corpse, it seemed the only logical explanation for their being discarded so near the body. She had no proof he'd been murdered or killed for meat. He could just as easily have died of natural causes. Perishing close to where she'd found him from a fall, heart attack, stroke, or even exposure. Then been found by starving survivors who butchered the corpse for meat. It was only supposition. But she liked that explanation better than the alternative. Even if it had happened that way, it wasn't a big leap from eating dead remains, human carrion, to actually hunting the young, feeble, infirm, and aged. Large, clumsy, and slow, humans were easy prey.

  Alex stopped, suddenly aware of a horrible stench in the air. It stank of rotting garbage, putrid meat. She grabbed for her collar and pulled it up to shield her nose and mouth. Alex searched for the source, but couldn't see a thing. She moved ahead cautiously. The trail was littered with twigs and debris, crunching and cracking beneath her feet. She halted, scouring the shadows apprehensively. The smell was getting worse as though something dead lay close by. Alex studied the piles of brush littering the trail. They hadn't fallen that way naturally, someone had arranged them like that. A branch snapped to her right! Startled, she saw a shadow emerging from behind the trees. Her chest constricted in fear. Alex didn't know who or what it was. Then she saw the outline of a rifle pointing at her. She dove for cover, landing with a thud on a large rock buried beneath the branches. A sharp pain cut through her abdomen. Footsteps came toward her, stopping, then starting again.

  Alex rolled onto her side and reached for her weapon, calling out Wolf's name. There was no answer. The footsteps moved closer. She pulled the gun from her shoulder, then heard the sound of a rifle being cocked.

  "Don't do it," a voice warned. "I could blow you away in a second flat."

  Alex looked up to see a figure looming over her. "Who are you and what the hell are you doin' here?" he demanded to know.

  Too frightened to answer, her fingers inched toward the trigger of her gun.

  "Damn fool! Wandering around in the woods in the middle of the night. Almost took ya for a bear. Lucky you yelled or I'd have shot ya."

  She heard something click, then a flame appeared, moving back and forth above her.

  "Holy hell! You're a woman," he uttered in disbelief. "You shouldn't go sneaking up on a man that way. Puts him on edge. Makes him wonder what you're up to." He eyed her suspiciously, then asked, "What's your name?"

  She was taken aback by the question. Why did he want to know her name? He was old. In his seventies at least, maybe older. Among the wrinkles on his aged face, grew sparse patches of wiry, white hair, encrusted with the remnants of his last meal. His eyes were unnerving. Spots of blood dotted the yellowish whites, and the iris of his left eye was covered with a milky veil. The top of his head was bald and mottled with blotchy, dark-brown skin. What hair there was grew as a wooly fringe just above the ears and billowed out into puffs and snarls that reached his shoulders.

  "You got a name don't ya?" he asked loudly.

  "Alex," she answered.

  "What? Didn't hear ya. You gotta talk up. I don't hear so well no more."

  "Alex," she repeated, more loudly than before.

  "Oh. Alex," he said, finally understanding her. "Well glad to meet you Alex. The name's Otis. Otis Wallace."

  She nodded, her face grim as she eyed his gun. It was still pointed at her.

  "From these parts?"

  She looked at him blankly.

  "Well hell! Of course you are! What would ya be doing out here if you weren't," he said, laughing. He smiled at her, showing vacant spaces between discolored teeth, and waited for her to say something, but she remained silent. "Quiet little thing ain't ya? Don't talk much?"

  She glared at the weapon. "It's hard to make conversation with a gun pointed at your head," she snapped.

  "Is that what's eating ya? Hell, don't worry; I ain't gonna shoot ya," he said, lowering the rifle, "Don't mind me. I don't get many visitors out this way and my social graces ain't what they oughta be. You're the only person I've seen to talk to in…in…" he furrowed his brow, shaking his head in irritation. "Crap! You get old and you forget things! Can't say precisely, but it's been a long time, a real long time."

  "There hasn't been anybody else around here recently?" she asked, thinking of Wolf.

  "Just one other fella. I seen him wandering around a couple of times, but didn't get close enough to get a good look at him. He's gone though. Haven't seen him in more than a week."

  Her heart sank.

  "Aw shit!" he yelped, dropping the lighter. "Burned my damn fingers." He was muttering curses under his breath. "Hold on. I'll get it goin' again."

  She heard a click and the light burned brightly once more.

  "You cold?" he asked in concern.

  She nodded.

  "You oughtn't be out roaming around in the cold night air. You'll catch yourself a chill. I'll build us a little fire. It'll warm ya right up!"

  The light went out again and she could hear brush being dragged away as the shadow moved down a bank.

  "Come on now. Don't be shy, I ain't gonna bite. Can't build it up there. It'll stink up my bear bait. Damn things are cagey. Got a sixth sense about danger. Can't let 'em know you're around."

  Alex struggled to her feet, one hand clutching her gun, the other pressed to her belly. The pain was easing, but it still hurt. Alex watched the man, moonlight reflecting off his baldpate, bobbing about in the darkness, trying to decide whether to make a run for it. He was probably too old to chase her, but there was his gun to consider. He seemed harmless enough. Alex didn't think he'd shoot her, but what did she know? Deciding it was best to not antagonize him, she held tightly to her weapon and reluctantly followed.

  "There," he said proudly, as the bits of twigs and branch burst into flame. He slowly lowered himself to the ground and sat down. "Getting old," he laughed, "These bones don't move the way they used to. Have a seat!"


  Afraid to get too close, worried he'd make a grab for her gun, she sat down a few feet away from him.

  "Whatcha doing out here? Come to hunt?"

  She nodded in the affirmative.

  "Looking for bear?"

  Alex didn't know what to say; afraid he'd think she'd come to poach his kill. "Uh no! Not bear!"

  "They're good eatin'. Not as good as deer maybe; but then you don't need to chase 'em all over hell and creation. Just put out a little bait and they'll come to you! Lots of 'em around here too. Been pretty much living off 'em, them and whatever else shows up in my traps. Hey, you hungry?"

  "A little," she said, looking uncomfortable.

  He reached into the pocket of his ragged coat and withdrew a skin pouch. His hands shook as he undid the tie and pulled out a clump of what looked like black mush. "Here. Try this," he said, passing it to her.

  She hesitated, then warily extended her hand.

  "Go on. Take it," he coaxed, "It's pemmican. What the Iroquois braves lived on when they went on long hunts or off to war. Have some. I got plenty."

  It felt greasy and smelled awful, but not wanting to offend him, she pinched off a little piece and put it in her mouth.

  "Not bad huh?"