by Lynda Engler
“I wish you would stop referring to yourselves as mutants, Malcolm. You are just people with a couple of changes that make you better suited to living out here,” said Isabella, reaching for his left hand and squeezing it lovingly. Her hands were so small in his and the warmth and strength of his fingers wrapped around hers gave her confidence, as if his strength flowed directly into her, fortifying her against the harsh Outside world. But she couldn’t hold his hand for long. He needed the power in both of his arms to deal with the dense vegetation.
“If you insist, Belle, I’ll call people like me whatever you want.” The rest of the exhausted tribe followed behind their leader and his new mate, desperate to put distance between themselves and what had happened in Dover. Other than the sound of the three men slashing at the foliage, they moved silently, but Isabella knew everyone was listening intently to her conversation with Malcolm.
“You don’t think small cities like Dover were hit by bombs?” asked Isabella.
Malcolm shook his head. “Except for five decades of deterioration, there wasn’t any physical damage to the buildings so I don’t think so. I think only the biggest cities were hit – and no one survived in the biggest cities.”
“But Malcolm, your people are from one of the biggest! Your ancestors must have survived the chemicals.”
“No, Belle, my ancestors migrated to Ewr many years after the war,” replied Malcolm.
“Really? There is still so much I have to learn about the tribes,” said Isabella. She tripped over a branch on the ground and scraped her leg, but she didn’t even bother to mention it any more. She was getting used to the pain of this journey.
In spite of all their attempts to talk about anything but the battle, Isabella’s thoughts returned to the hideous creatures that attacked them. The monsters made her skin crawl and her stomach retch, and yet she was strangely fascinated at the same time. Malcolm was right. They must have been human kids whose parents were killed. These children would have been physically very strong, perhaps the strongest humans at the time, but badly affected by the chemicals nevertheless. To say that they had mutated was the greatest understatement! Their teeth grew into fangs sharp enough to pierce bones; their flesh thickened into almost impervious animal hide, like an elephant – no – more like a rhinoceros; and their eyes went white with blindness. They developed a sense of smell that could locate prey compensating for their blindness. They had become pure evil.
“Do you think the Eaters ran out of food and then turned on other humans, Malcolm?” asked Isabella.
“Maybe. Probably even on each other. In Ewr there were rats, possums, two-tailed squirrels and other small rodents that were the core of our diet. Maybe in small cities like Dover, the Eaters ate all the rodents before turning on each other. I didn’t see any rats in that city. Why didn’t I know how wrong that was right away?”
“Malcolm, you are too critical of yourself. You are punishing yourself for something you couldn’t have known.” Isabella put a consoling arm around her new love but he pushed her away, his shoulders slumped, his eyes haunted by his inner pain and disappointment with himself.
“I should have known somehow. I’m tribal leader. Missing the warning signs was just thick. I should have known better! I won’t make that mistake twice.” The weight of his remorse was visible in his gait as they marched further from the death that lay behind them. He hacked at a thick vine with such vehemence; Isabella knew he was taking his disappointment with himself out on the foliage. But that was cathartic so she didn’t say anything. She merely moved away enough to be out of his way, but remained close enough that he couldn’t help but know she was there. “No, you won’t ever make that kind of mistake again, because you are smart, regardless of what my grandfather thinks.” She winced in regret as soon as the words crossed her lips.
“Your grandfather thinks I’m stupid? He’s never even met me.” His chin sunk dejectedly into his chest.
“Not you Malcolm. My grandfather thinks all mutants are stupid. But I’m discovering that he’s been wrong about a lot of things. Obviously he’s wrong about you too.” Lifting her face to him, she smiled apologetically. She took his hand again for a moment, holding it tighter than she had earlier.
“Maybe,” said Malcolm.
“Definitely,” insisted Isabella.
“You led everyone out of Newark. So why did we go back into another city?” Isabella was navigating through the emotional minefield of Malcolm’s current despair, but she felt she had to help Malcolm get to the bottom of his bad decision if he was going to regain his confidence and lead them to their goal of a safe haven.
“I guess part of me wanted some of the safety we had back home. It’s all I’ve ever known,” Malcolm said quietly. He studied his feet as they crunched on wind-blown piles of last year’s leaves that lay beneath the trees.
“Are you afraid out here Malcolm?”
“Maybe,” he admitted.
She squeezed his hand again.
Isabella’s map showed another small city, Rockaway, just north of Dover. Malcolm wasn’t willing to put his tribe at risk again. Instead of venturing into Rockaway, the group steered clear of the place, skirting around the small yellow zone on the map.
With Rockaway well behind them and no sign of Eaters, they continued toward the mountains. The terrain was heavily wooded and with dusk falling, travel was getting more and more difficult. Much of the route was uphill now, as they approached the mountains. But the road was finally clearer and they could pass easier now. Isabella could see the relief in the faces of all three men, the exertion of wielding machetes now behind them.
Isabella marveled at the terrain on this part of the journey. The trees were so green! The woods were made up of hunter green pines, white barked birch trees, leafy green smaller trees and even some red leafed ones mixed in. The beauty was incredible, but Isabella was so exhausted she could barely glance at the trees – for every time she looked up at the ridgeline, she tripped over a root or stumbled over a rock or some other uneven bit of nature.
“Malcolm, it will be dark soon. Can we stop for the night please? I’m very tired.”
“I know you are tired, Belle, but I still haven’t found a safe enough place to make camp. We don’t know if we killed all the Eaters in Dover. Perhaps there are more of them. They could follow us! I realize everyone is exhausted, but we need to keep moving. But we’ll go slower, OK? We’ll go as slow as if little Davin was leading us.”
Isabella nodded in agreement. She knew that stopping before nightfall so they could set up their shelters and find water and fire wood was essential to their survival. If Malcolm felt traveling in the dark was this important, it was because he was more afraid of being attacked by Eaters than worried about having to make camp with just a flashlight.
Malcolm turned to Kaedo who was behind them and told him to go take the lead. Kalla, Clay and Maxi were now directly behind Malcolm and Isabella and little Davin was walking behind the almost-adults with his sister and Shia. As always, Pumpkin the cat was not far from Andra. Isabella usually was keenly aware of the children wanting to move faster, but now she could feel their exhaustion as they walked behind her at a pace just slightly slower than her own.
Isabella turned and watched Malcolm drop back in the group, say a few words to Milora and Guy, then to Macy and Garith. Malcolm must have told Garith to take point with Kaedo because Garith quickly walked past the tired group and took the lead.
Macy was now bringing up the rear of the group, and Isabella saw how the young woman watched Davin. She knew what Malcolm meant about the little boy walking slowly. Davin wasn’t only the slowest, but the weakest.
As Malcolm came back up through the travelers to rejoin her, looking at Davin as he passed the small child, he asked Isabella, “Do you think he’s sick, Belle? I mean, I know he’s only two, but Shia wasn’t nearly that slow or weak when she was that age. She was fast as the wind… never slowed down by her short leg.”
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��Yes, she does keep up well with the boys, even though they are older and taller. But not Davin.”
Other than a cleft lip, Davin had no visible mutations, but he was weak. Macy had been carrying him off and on during the day when the little boy got too tired to walk. Now Milora and Guy were helping too. Milora and Macy’s own sons were both strong and often tried to lead the way with the other young ones; the kids in Malcolm’s tribe loved this adventure and would have happily forged a path through the woods when no trail could be found. The men constantly had to pull them back into the group. Of course they were too inexperienced to lead the tribe through so many dangers, but that didn’t stop them from trying. When not attempting to “take point” as Malcolm had called it, Isabella often saw the kids run off to explore and they eventually had to be reigned back in by the adults. Even before running into the Eaters, there were unknown dangers Outside. Drop offs, ravines, wild animals, rusted girders and barbed wire fences all appeared when least expected. Isabella saw how well organized and responsible the group was every time they pulled a small child back to keep them safe.
Isabella still had trouble believing the adults in this group were only teenagers, not much older than she was.
Once again, Malcolm’s daughter Shia ran up to the front of the group, near Kaedo and Garith who were now leading the group. She called, “Come on Andra! Let’s go explore.”
Andra began to run toward Shia, then slowed down, yelling to her new friend instead. “I can’t. I need to watch over Davin. I promised my Mommy.”
Isabella hadn’t forgotten the moment when the little girl had promised her dying mother that she would take care of Davin. What a responsibility for such a little girl! But Andra was strong of heart and spirit. Isabella knew that even though she was very young, Andra could follow through on her promise.
It was getting darker and harder to see in the waning light. Nightfall wasn’t far off. Still Malcolm ceaselessly led the tribe onward. Andra suddenly cried out, “Smoke! I smell smoke!”
“I smell it too!” shouted Malcolm, crinkling his nose at the faint smell wafting in on the breeze.
Andra asked, “Are the trees on fire?”
The girl really did have a remarkable sense of smell. Isabella was just now catching her first whiff of the scent.
“No, it’s not a forest fire. It smells different, but not quite a campfire odor either. It’s stronger, more concentrated,” said Malcolm, sniffing the air.
Up ahead now, they could see several thin trails of smoke coming from the trees. They were definitely human fires. “It looks like the chimney smoke from Ewr in winter,” said Clay, running back to Malcolm to report.
It was chimney smoke alright. They had found people.
But what kind of people?
Fourteen
Malcolm took point and sent Garith to the rear and Kaedo to watch over the children in the middle. Malcolm then sent Isabella back with the children.
“Why can’t I stay with you?” she asked, her face crinkling in dejection.
“We don’t know who or what may be ahead. It’s safer for you in the middle of the group. Keep the little ones between us. Macy has a bow and Milora is a crack shot with the sling. Garith and Guy will keep watch in the rear.”
“It can’t be Eaters up ahead because they don’t make cooking fires, and shelter folk would not be visible above ground. So it must be your people Malcolm. You said your people are peaceful. Do you really think they’ll attack us?”
“Belle, I just don’t know. Maybe the mutant tribes in the ’burbs aren’t like the city tribes. I can’t be sure – so go where I tell you to. Please!”
Isabella’s sneakers made a squishing noise in the mud as she found her place in the middle of the group where Malcolm felt it would be safest for her. She didn’t even bother to comment on his use of the term “mutant.”
Malcolm made his way up front to take his place next to Kaedo, his oldest friend. Kaedo clutched the pointed spear he had made after the Eater’s had attacked them. Behind them in the group, Guy and Garith were both ready to grab their bows if needed. She guessed that one did not enter another tribe’s camp with weapons drawn, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be ready in an eye blink.
Isabella spied Shia making sure her sling shot was ready if she needed it. She also checked the “weapons” of Sammy, Elias and Andra. It was almost as if she had her own mini-tribe, making sure the little ones were prepared.
Malcolm gave a hand signal to Clay to go forward to scout, but before Clay could move, a shout from the trees surprised them. “Halt! Identify yourselves.” The voice was male, somewhat-high pitched and authoritative but not menacing.
Malcolm spoke for the group. “We are the Calloway tribe from Ewr. I am Malcolm, the leader. We are peaceful travelers.”
The owner of the disembodied voice appeared from the shadows and revealed a gangly youth, perhaps fourteen. With him suddenly stood a dozen other young men and women who seemed to have materialized from behind the dense trees. “I am Archer. If you indeed do come in peace, then you are welcome here, Malcolm of Ewr.”
Kaedo kept his protective position at Malcolm’s side as the newcomers approached. On average, they were tall, slender and strong, with the usual assortment of mutations: Odd-length limbs, missing ears and the ever common webbed fingers. But they were also clean and looked healthy and well-fed.
“Thank you. We do come in peace. We are on a journey to find a new home. What is this place?” asked Malcolm.
“This is our village. We call it Telemark. Come, I will take you to meet the others,” said Archer.
The enfolding web of forest opened onto a clear path and though it was difficult to see in the waning light, the path looked to be regularly traveled. They walked about a mile, snaking through the trees until the path became a dirt road. It looked like it had been paved at one time and a row of houses lined each side. They saw a small, brown house.
“Wow! Look at this place, Malcolm!” said Isabella in a hushed tone, although she could barely contain her excitement.
The small house was built of dark logs – long, solid, thick unbroken tree trunks. The logs were laid horizontally and interlocked on the ends with notches. The walls had wide windows with solid panes of glass and gingham curtains showed through the clean windows. It even had a front porch. Malcolm looked at the house and replied, “This was what I was hoping to build on your land.”
Two little children playing on the porch waved at the tribe as they went by and the youngsters of the tribe waved back eagerly. Isabella smiled warmly at the children.
As they passed the log cabin, Isabella heard Macy remark from behind them, “A regular little town.”
Archer explained, “Most of these houses were built before the Final War, but, as you can see, we’ve repaired war damage and maintained them over the years. The families that live here now keep them in good condition.”
Isabella glanced at the houses and saw that all the homes were in great condition and looked like pictures of pretty towns she had seen in old magazines. Most were log cabins and all had neatly trimmed lawns and thin wisps of smoke escaped from chimney tops. The lawns meant the residents had a way to keep them neatly trimmed. A gentle evening breeze blew over the grass, carrying with it a scent Isabella did not recognize. The whole town was a log cabin Shangri La in the forest; an unexpected and surprising bit of beauty in the wild.
“The lawns are so beautifully manicured. Do you have working lawn mowers?” Isabella asked Archer.
“Oh yes, they’re here all day long, but right now they’re in the pen on the other side of the lake.”
“You put lawn mowers in a pen?” asked Isabella.
“Of course, otherwise the sheep would wander away. The children guide them into the enclosure every evening just before dinner,” replied Archer.
“Sheep! Of course! You have animals that trim the lawns!” Isabella was delighted. The smell she couldn’t place was wet wool. Yesterday’s downp
our must have soaked their “lawn mowers.”
As they walked down the road, they saw the lake Archer had mentioned. It was very small and should probably be called a pond. It was small enough to swim across and was roughly oval shaped. The road the group walked along encircled the entire lake. Here there were single story houses. It was darker now and by the light of a campfire, Isabella saw a sandy beach at the lakes edge and a stone pit surrounding the fire.
“That must be where Archer is taking us,” whispered Isabella to Malcolm.
When the group arrived at the beach, a tall man about Kaedo’s age stepped forward to greet them. In a deep yet hoarse voice, he said, “Welcome travelers. I am Oberon, Chief of Telemark Village.” Oberon wore his hair in long black braids that were gathered and tied with a leather cord behind his head. His skin was dark and leathery, almost reptilian.
Malcolm stepped forward and spoke. “I am Malcolm Calloway of Ewr, leader of this tribe. We’ve left our city in search of a better place to live. A place with less poisons and toxins that shorten our lives. A place where we can live and breed and grow our families. This is my wife, Isabella and my daughter, Shia.” Malcolm continued introducing the remaining members of his tribe.
“This is Guy and his mate Milora, and their son Elias.” The elders stepped forward to greet Oberon, but 4-year-old Elias was clearly too tired to bother with formal introductions. He barely nodded at Oberon, instead slumping against his mother’s side, his brown hair matted and clinging to his forehead.
Isabella stood beside Malcolm as he continued. “Kaedo, my best friend and advisor is the eldest of our tribe, and his son Maxi, whom I hope to find a mate for soon.” Kaedo transferred his spear to his left hand in order to shake Oberon’s hand firmly, the old custom apparently still a form of greeting even Outside.