“Haven’t heard any shots yet,” Seth commented as he swung his axe. His back and shoulders were long beyond tired; he knew from the dull ache in his arms that if he stopped working, he wouldn’t be able to start again. “That’s good news.”
“Maybe,” said Marty. The older man was slicked with sweat despite the cold, and looked as tired as Seth felt. He was digging a hole for the next post to go into, which was made extremely difficult by the frozen ground. “I have never thought much of the whole ‘no news is good news’ thing. I wish I knew what was going on at the bridge.”
“Maybe we should send a runner? Maybe one of the younger kids, once they wake up. That way we can keep all the men working.”
“A very good notion, Mr. Larkin,” came a voice from behind them. They turned, to see Mayor Townsend approaching them. “In fact it’s so good, we’ve already acted on it. The Brown brothers are already up and getting dressed. How is it going here?”
“Slowly,” said Marty, putting his hands behind his back and straightening up. “We’ve got a couple more guys doing a line from the Ell to the Angle. I’d like to get the South wall a row, too, if we have time, and complete the circle."
"What about the Arena?" asked Townsend.
"Too far. We'll be spread too thin if we include it," said Marty. "The Captain thinks the attack will come from the Ruins, so we’re not as worried about the Arena; the Gone will likely hit the Ell first. I’d like to get several rows up, but it’s just me and Lark here. And I don’t know about the kid, but I could sleep for a year.”
“I’m alright, Mayor. Really.” It was a lie, and Seth could tell that both the older men knew it. “At least, I’m good until someone can come relieve me,” he amended.
“Most of the men have been up all night, barricading windows and stacking hay,” said Townsend, “but I sent a few of them to bed a couple hours ago, told them we’d wake them at dawn. They’ll be foggy, so I probably won’t have them swing an axe for a little bit, but they can start on getting holes dug. We’ve got a line of hay bales all around the School now; three bales deep at the base. The ones at the front, we’ve tied together; hopefully that will make it harder for the goners to push aside. So long as the ropes hold, they’ll have to try to climb, and that gives us an advantage. I'll send a man to tell the folks building up by the Angle to leave the Arena out of the defenses.”
“That’s something, then,” said Marty before Seth could say anything. They had spent all night putting stakes in the ground in front of that very barricade. Did the mayor think they hadn’t noticed how thick it was? “We should also think about sending some Scouts or Longshooters instead of the Browns. Don’t get me wrong; it’s a good idea on the face of it. But they’re children; even if they get the job done, but I don't like the idea of sending kids out when we don't know where the Gone are. Not to mention that the men there could probably use a break, too.”
Seth found himself nodding, but the mayor looked annoyed. “Captain Larkin already has every Scout in town up there. There is no guarantee that he’s right about where the attack will come from. Or if there will even BE an attack.”
“But, Mayor, if we send fighting men to relieve some of the folks down at the Bridge, wouldn’t that mean that some of the Scouts come back here to get some sleep?” asked Seth. “If something does happen while they’re here, they’d be here to help. You don’t even need to send actual Scouts; anyone who knows how to use a scythe or spear would do.”
The mayor looked at Seth strangely. The look in his eyes was not altogether friendly. “You’re your father’s son, aren’t you?” he said simply. When Seth just gave a shrug, Townsend went on. “Fine, Marty, we’ll do it your way. I’ll send the Brown boys to dig post holes instead. I want you two to show them how deep to go and how far apart to space them. Once you’re sure they’ve got it, you two go get some sleep.”
“For how long?” asked Seth.
“We should get at least four hours,” said Marty. “But it may not be an option.”
“We’ll try for four then,” said the mayor. With that, he turned and walked back toward the main gate.
Marty chuckled quietly. “I don’t think you made a friend there, kiddo,” he said with a grin.
“What did I do?” asked Seth, a bit plaintively. “I was just trying to help!”
“Oh, don’t take it too personally, Lark. The mayor has never been terribly comfortable with anyone who chooses fighting for a lifestyle. He’s good for looking at the big picture, but the part of his brain that recognizes the value of being ready to defend yourself? He's got it turned off.”
“So, he doesn’t get it, so he looks down on those that do?” asked Seth.
Marty looked thoughtful for a moment, and then nodded. “Yeah, I think he does. Like maybe we haven’t evolved to his level.”
Seth turned to look in the direction the mayor had gone off in. “That seems awfully short sighted of him.”
“Maybe. But that spins the other way, too. If you go to the Ranch, you’ll run into plenty of people that think every man, woman, and child should have a gun. And then you have nomad bands like the Black Dogs, who use violence as the tool to get what they need. And remember this; Townsend may not like us, but at least listens to the fighting men. We could do a lot worse.”
Seth considered that, and then nodded, finishing the point on the stake he was working on. “So how come you’re calling me Lark now?” he asked the older man.
“Isn’t that what they call you?” asked Marty, taking the finished stake and placing it in the hole he had just dug. Seth held the point of it at the proper angle while Marty packed the frigid soil around the wood. “I know that’s what Tommy calls you when he talks about you. I just figured it would be a good way to distinguish you from your dad. Do you not like it?”
“No, no, it’s fine,” said Seth. “Makes sense to me.”
They worked in silence from that point on, both too tired to feel terribly chatty. When Jo Marolt and another couple of boys came to relieve them, it was all Seth could do to not shout for joy. “Mrs. Harper set up a bed spread for you two in the gymnasium,” said Jo. “Mayor says you’re both to get at least four hours unless the world is coming to an end.”
Marty smirked at hearing his own words come back to him. “Wise man, the mayor,” he remarked, and threw his arm around Seth. “Come on, kid. Let’s try to get a little sleep before the kak hits the fan.”
“What? Oh, yeah. Alright,” said Seth dazedly. In the steady rhythm of work, he had nearly forgotten what that work was for. “How can we sleep, knowing what’s coming?” he asked the older man in all seriousness.
Marty shrugged. “Sometimes, you can’t. But we need to try. A man can’t think if he doesn’t sleep, and a man who can’t think can’t fight.”
Most of the town had bedded down in the gymnasium. The room didn’t get much use anymore; they had dances here, and the occasional political debate come election season. There were no cots or mattresses; it looked like most of the people had bedded down with nothing more than their own coats for warmth. The Harpers had been a little more forward thinking; they had brought some blankets to lay on, at least. They had set up near the south wall. Mrs. Harper was already up. Or perhaps she was still up; the bags under her eyes argued for a sleepless night. “Have a care not to wake Tommy,” she said by way of greeting. “He just got in, and who knows how much sleep he’ll get. I’ve laid out a blanket for you both.”
“Don’t worry, Frannie,” Marty whispered back to his sister. “I don’t think we’ll last long beyond hitting the pillow.”
“Well, before you do, take off those rank shirts,” said Mrs. Harper, picking up a bundle and tossing it to them. “Put one of those on. They’re Tom’s, so they’ll be a bit big on you, but they’ll do for sleeping.”
“A bit big” turned out to be more of a tent on Seth’s lean frame. Nevertheless, it was nice to get his sweat soaked shirt off, even if he could do nothing about getting clean. He
lay down on the blanket next to Marty and closed his eyes. The older man was quickly snoring, but Seth didn’t drift off right away. He put his hands behind his head and stared up into the rafters, not really thinking of anything except how cold and hard the floor beneath him was.
“Seth? Are you still awake?” came a voice.
“Abby?” he said dazedly. “Yea. I mean, no, I’m not asleep yet.” He raised his head a bit, and there she was, silhouetted in the dim light, crouching at the foot of his blanket. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know. We haven’t heard anything from where our dads are.”
“That’s a good thing,” Seth told her, trying to sound comforting. “It means nothing has happened worth telling.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Can I… can I sleep next to you? I’m really scared.”
“Sure?” Seth hadn’t intended on making it sound like a question, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it either. Abby went and got her own blanket, then lay down on his right side. Seth scooted closer to the wall to make room for her, but she was still very near. He thought about sharing his blanket with her, but decided against it; that was far too forward, especially with the whole township in the same room with them.
Afterwords, she was quiet for a long time. Seth thought she might have fallen asleep. He was about to drift off himself when he heard her say, “Seth? Do you think people are going to die?”
Seth didn’t know how to answer that question. “Maybe,” he said finally. “But my Dad is pretty good at what he does. And we had Mr. Beaupre’s warning. If something is coming, you can bet we’ll be a lot more ready for it than Fort Kenosha was. It’ll be OK.”
“I remember when my brother died,” she said quietly. “No one had expected it. He had always been smiling, laughing, so alive. And then he wasn’t. He left for the Ranch one day, and no one knew that was the last time we’d see him. If I had known… I can’t remember his face anymore, Seth. It’s gone, like I never knew him. If I had known, I would have paid more attention. Just to his face. I would have just stared at him for hours, until I had every detail memorized.” She fell silent again for a moment, but her breathing had quickened. Seth realized she was trying not to cry. “I don’t want to forget anyone else's face.”
Later, he couldn’t remember how it had happened. All he could tell anyone was that, suddenly, he had his arms around her. She laid her head on his chest, crying into her dad’s clean shirt, her quiet sobs seeming to rack her entire body. Seth didn’t really know what to say to her to make her feel better, so in the end he said nothing at all. He just ran his fingers through her hair, and whispered calming words into her ear. Eventually, her crying slowed and her breathing became more regular. He kept whispering to her long after he was sure she had fallen asleep, his soft words echoing in the big room until sleep claimed him as well.
Chapter 10
The dawn that morning was truly beautiful. The clouds had begun to break up, and the sky brightened into a gorgeous palette of blues and pinks. The men working the bridge took a moment to appreciate it, despite the urgency. Even Jake stopped to enjoy it, standing next to Tom and catching their breath. They had just moved an enormous, rusty old lumber saw to the bridge. Despite Tom’s massive strength, they had needed four other men to get it moved. “Did you ever hear the old wife's tale about how a red dawn was a bad omen?” Tom asked him, his hands resting on his hips.
“Yeah. I think they’re talking about weather though. Besides, this isn’t a proper red dawn. This is mostly pinks, and there is plenty of blue,” said Jake. “Anyway, I’ve never really held much with the idea of omens. Situations come up, and you can deal with them or you can’t. I doubt the sky would care either way.”
“Well, I think we’ve sure as hell done all we can to 'deal with it',” said Tom. The barricade had grown over the evening. It now stood nearly nine feet high at its tallest point, and six foot deep at its base, which included all of the heaviest machinery front and center. Just behind that, they had set up heavy crates to peer just over, giving them both a place to shoot from and a place to duck down behind. In theory, the narrowness of the bridge would create a choke point, so the Gone wouldn’t be able to mass a push on the barricade if it was a real herd.
Jake found himself nodding in agreement. They hadn’t been ready by midnight like he’d wanted, but he’d known when he’d said it that it was an unreasonable goal. He had just wanted to get people moving as quickly as possible. “Now, we just need to know what’s going on in the Ruins.”
“Begging your pardon, Cap, but is that safe?” asked Lewis. “We didn’t build this thing for easy back and forth. You’d have to be lowered down to the other side, and to get you back up you’re climbing on lots of loose, heavy hunks of metal. If anything goes wrong, there won’t be time enough to do any of that.”
Jake cursed, but nodded again. “You’re right, Lewis. The best course is to wait." No matter how little I like it. "At least for now. We’ll see what the day brings.”
“Jake,” said Tom, urgency in his voice. “There’s someone coming. Looks like a kid.”
Panic welled up in Jake for a moment, but quickly receded. He had heard no shots from that direction, and if the Gone had attacked on multiple fronts, they wouldn’t have sent a child to tell him. “It’s alright, Tom. It looks like one of the Brown kids. Probably has a message to me from the Mayor.”
Little Geoffrey Brown ran straight to Jake, and then put his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. “Captain…Larkin…” he breathed out. “Mayor says… he’s sending some more people… to help. So your scouts can get some sleep…at the school.”
That’s far too good an idea to have come from the mayor, Jake thought unkindly. Leaving Hernando Martinez there may have been the best idea any of us have had so far. He chose out six of his Scouts to send back with young Geoff, including Lewis and Boldin, who had been there for the better part of eighteen hours. “Tom, I want you to go with them. Not much more you can do here, and your family needs you.”
“Thanks, Jake. Don’t you think you could use a break, too? You’ve been going nonstop since yesterday morning.”
“I’ll try to get in on the next sleep shift,” Jake lied. “For now, I’m fine.”
“Anything we need to bring from the school when we come back?” asked Boldin.
Jake thought for a moment. “Food, most likely. Oh, and some rope if any is available. It will help us go back and forth over the barricade. I really do want to see what made that crash last night.”
“Yes sir, Cap’n,” said Boldin, and the Scouts he had named started off. Tom gave him a quiet wave, and then moved to join them. They turned behind the hill towards Aspen Vale at about the same time as their relief appeared. None of them were fighters, but at this point Jake only needed a couple of men to stand watch. He directed them to various points on the barricade. He didn’t give any of them guns or bows; none of these men had received any training with such weapons, and he didn’t want them going off half cocked or, worse, causing an accident.
“But what do we do if we see a goner?” asked one of them, who couldn’t have been more than seventeen.
“You come get a Scout,” said Jake, far more patiently than he felt. Fatigue was beginning to make him irritable. “And for the Mother’s sake, do NOT yell. Just because you’ve seen it doesn’t mean it’s seen you. Get down, get low, make sure everyone else around you does the same.”
“What about us? What do we do while they stand sentry?” said one of his remaining Scouts.
“I want you to try and get some sleep if you can,” said Jake. “We want at least some fighters that aren’t clearing the cobwebs from their heads if something happens. I’ll be one of them that stays awake. Volunteer for the second?”
“I’m with you, Cap’n,” called one, a young but seasoned scout called Goat. His real name was Eustace Cumberden, but his pointed beard had insured his nickname. When he had first he
ard it, he had jokes that Goat was a far more respectable name than Eustace. “I’ve been stuck in town for weeks. I got a lot of energy to use up yet.”
Jake shook his head ruefully; he remembered being young enough to feel that way, but only vaguely. “Alright, then. The rest of you, find a spot. Try to stay out of sight.” His men nodded wearily; he probably didn’t have to add that last part. No Scout was ever sent on a mission unless he knew how to camouflage himself before bedding down. Jake sat down on the ground near the barricade, leaning his back against a crate and trying to shake off the cobwebs himself. He was angry with himself for being this tired. Sure, he hadn’t had much rest in the last twenty four, but a leader needed to be able to go a night without sleep if necessary. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back with a sigh.
“Captain? Captain, wake up!” someone whispered urgently.
Jake opened his eyes, and saw that the sun had moved a great deal further than it should have in the couple seconds he thought his eyes had been closed. “I’m awake. How long did I sleep?”
“Hour, hour and a half,” said Goat in a hoarse whisper. He had taken a place on the barricade, next to the young man who had wanted a gun. He didn’t look nearly so ready to take the Gone on at the moment; he was ducked behind the top crate, eyes wide. “Two goners, just beyond the bridge,” continued Goat. “They haven’t started coming this way yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”
Jake nodded and looked to the young man. “Hey. What’s your name, kid?”
The young man looked at him hesitantly. “Steve. Holloway,” he said quietly.
“Alright, Mr. Holloway. This is what I want you to do. I want you to come down off of those crates, as quietly as you can. I want you to wake up all of the Scouts and send them up here. I saw one head off towards those bushes there; he may be hard to see, but he'll be there, I promise. He can help you find the others. Once they’re all awake, I want you to hightail it to the School. Let them know we have contact.”
Aspen Vale: A Tale of the Gone Page 17