Back in WEN 2341, he had been part of a pilot program that attempted to reintroduce paired beavers into barren, newly cleaned up areas in which planting teams had established fast-growing bamboo. They hoped the animals would turn their attention to the bamboo, build dams, corral water, and create new ecosystems that invited the wildlife and other plants to creep forward, to prosper, and to multiply. This was how the land would recover.
It was slow going. The animals were fragile, the pairings difficult, and bamboo was not their building material of choice. Still, there had been some successes, enough to encourage the project. He had seen two successes, where a mated pair of beaver had built their dam with the bamboo, transforming the surrounding arid, barren land into miles of flowing green grasslands, with small saplings and shrubs springing up, and deer and smaller wildlife appearing to drink from the ponds. It was so wonderful to see—a small taste of what might be possible everywhere once man’s poisonous leavings were scraped away and nature reintroduced.
It would be decades before actual, size-worthy trees would be available to these invaluable and industrious animals. The bamboo was a gamble that paid off.
Urging his horse forward, they re-entered the shadowy forest, this part filled with old growth and second growth trees. That meant many of these trees had been here for decades, some for a hundred and more years. To Coru, this was a holy place, where nature abounded, spilling goodness upon the earth. He inhaled, absorbed the moist air and the tang of last winter’s moldering leaves. He could stretch his arms out in any direction and touch the pale green of this season’s new needles that trimmed the tips of every branch as if in lace. Ahead a shaft of sunlight knifed through an opening in the canopy above, illuminating the thousands of wild strawberry blossoms that carpeted the forest floor. At this moment, he wanted never to return to the future.
NICOLA ROCKED BACK and forth as if in a cradle, held safely in strong warm arms. Sunlight winked in and out of the forest ahead of them, sometimes bright enough to make her close her eyes. Now they were in a cool place. A safe place. She saw a tiny animal scurry up the trunk of a tree before turning to face her, to give her a good scolding. What was this animal? Why was it scolding her? A large brown hand appeared near her face, brushing aside a tree branch that suddenly appeared before her. She heard a creaking sound, a rustling sound that was rhythmic and comforting. She rocked in time with the sound. She liked it; it was very peaceful.
MATTEA STIFFENED at hearing Coru’s warning whistle. As practiced back at the farmhouse, the column of horses was reined in at once, everyone on alert. No one spoke. After a few minutes of tense silence, Mattea could hear what had caused Coru to sound the alarm. There were Outlanders on the road, which ran parallel to the path Coru and Mattea’s little group was following. There was only about a hundred feet of bush acting as buffer.
The Outlanders were a noisy bunch, clomping along the pavement, tossing remarks back and forth, laughing, traveling like there was no danger to them. This kind of confidence could be sourced one of two ways. They were either too stupid to know there was danger all around them, or they were the danger everyone else hid from.
As they grew closer, Mattea could make out what they were saying.
“…my woman, I’d beat the tar outta her,” one man declared.
Nicola stiffened in the saddle.
Another laughed. “You gotta catch one first, ya idjit.”
A third voice joined in. “And that ain’t never gonna happen as long as you keep going for the young ones. They’re slippery little suckers, those young ones. They’ll out fox you every time. And they ain’t worth shit, man. You need a full-grown woman that’ll treat you good.”
“Well now, Darrel, since you know everything – why’d ya go kill that last one then? She was a nice one, nicer than the one before.”
A low moan started in Nicola’s throat. She began to struggle to get off the horse. Mattea held her shoulders and whispered, “It’s okay. They can’t see us.”
“’Cause she was nuts in the head. There was no talking to the woman. All she did was cry about some other guy named Tony. Tony didn’t hit. Tony wasn’t mean to her. Tony was good, Tony was kind. All the time Tony, Tony, Tony. Forget Tony! So, I give her a good one across the head and she went down, straight onto the damned rock.”
Mattea encircled Nicola with his arms, keeping her astride the horse. She fought him now, panicked, the sound she was making growing louder. “Shhh,” he whispered in her ear. “Hush now. It’s okay.”
The Outlanders walked along in silence. It sounded like there might be four or five, maybe more, obviously all men.
Finally, someone spoke up. “And that was the end of Tony, right Darrel?”
Darrel guffawed. “Damned straight.”
“So, you’re back to your hand.”
“Shut up, ya Idjit.”
“I’m telling you boys here and now–the next woman we see, she’s mine, on accounta’ I lost my woman through pure accident.”
“No way. You wasted your chance. It’s us first, then you get another turn.”
Still another voice interrupted, the voice of authority, “We share, is how it’s gonna go. I decided. It’s settled. Every guy gets his turn–it’s the only way to be fair.”
Nicola cried out, fighting Mattea hard now, her elbows making some serious points against his ribs, her nails scratching the skin of his arms. The bay tromped to the side restlessly. The rider-less horses grew restless as well, pulling at their harnesses and milling about. Coru appeared by the horses, calming them.
“You hear something?” One of the Outlanders asked. They stopped walking. There was the sound of weapons being cocked. Many weapons.
Mattea covered Nicola’s mouth with his hand and hugged her bucking body hard against him. “Stop,” he whispered. “Don’t let them know you’re here. There are too many of them.”
Catherine ran past Coru on silent feet, making for Mattea and Nicola. She reached up to Nicola and stilled her hands. “Shh,” she soothed softly, fighting to quiet her gasping from her run. “It’s alright, Nicola. We won’t let them come here. No one will come near you, I promise. Look at me, Nicola. Look. Look. See me? Shhh, Nicola. Let’s just all be quiet and let them pass.”
Nicola stopped struggling. They all stood frozen in place, waiting. There was no sound from the road. Seconds ticked by.
“Ah, you’re hearin’ things again, Tommy! Will ya’ just stop saying you hear things? Wait ‘til you actually see somethin’, then come a’runnin’ and tell us about it. Until then, shut the hell up!”
There was the sound of general laughter and footsteps along the road again, leading past and beyond where they hid.
“So, what should we do next, boys? I’m thinkin’ we should be bustin’ out some of these here beans and havin’ us some dinner.”
“Not ‘til sundown, you moron. I want to be in Prince George in under a month, and that ain’t gonna happen stopping every half hour with you sissies for a damned tea party.”
“What’s in Prince George you’re all worked up about?
“Oh, I heard some stuff about ….”
They didn’t hear the answer to the Prince George question. Whatever the Outlander had heard about Prince George faded in the distance as they moved along the highway. Mattea sagged, letting out the air he hadn’t known he was holding in his chest. Damn, that was close. He and Coru exchanged glances. Too damned close. He removed his hand from Nicola’s mouth. She jerked to look at him and he started at seeing his finger marks on her face. Her eyes were huge, accusing, swimming in tears, then she shifted her focus to somewhere over his shoulder and the light in them dimmed. Tears slipped down her marked face, but it was as if she didn’t know it. She was no longer there.
He pressed his mouth into a hard line, angry at himself for hurting her, angry he’d had no choice. “I’m sorry, Nicola.” He reached around her body and gathered up the reins. Catherine patted his leg, giving him a sympathetic smile the
n returned to her son Malcolm and their horse.
Nicola’s body was again soft, pliant. She turned to face forward and leaned back against him. The column of horses moved forward.
Wren Wood may be Coru’s mission, whatever that meant, but as of this moment, young Nicola would be his.
8
NO DISHES
All walk-in freezers have latches on the inside of their doors, it was the law, and one Wren very well appreciated. This she knew because she had worked one summer at a Burger King when she still lived with her mother down in Vancouver. That meant her time in the Ice Cream Palace freezer, stacked with dead bodies, was blessedly brief. She’d remember the experience just the same.
Back at the Beast, she tossed the crossbow into the passenger seat, and drove straight to Bill’s, no evasion, no tricks, just straight to Bill’s. It wouldn’t be long before her presence would be known, and by the time that happened, she intended to be long gone. She could not wait to see Rushton in her rearview mirror.
Reaching Bill’s she drove round back and parked the Beast next to the double garage, pulled out the solar panels and set them up. She may as well charge it now. She wanted all the power she could get for when she left – preferably with Bill and the children. He had to agree to go with her.
This time when she knocked, she knocked at the back door. Waiting for a response, she glanced around the sunny yard and saw that it had once been a much loved and well-kept garden, though it was drowning in shin-deep weeds. Was this Bill’s wife’s garden, or Bill’s? Huge lilac bushes bloomed across the back fence and around the sides, giving maximum privacy. This was very good, as the Beast was hard to ignore loaded as it was. Looking at it now, she wondered how they were all going to make it back, but she couldn’t think of one thing she’d found she was willing to give up. Once she left here, she would never return. It was now or never.
“Wren?” Bill asked tentatively.
“Yes.” She faced the door eagerly. “I’m back and I’m not sick.”
She heard bolts drawn back and locks click open, then the door opened a few inches, revealing the tip of a very large shotgun. “Let’s see you.”
She moved closer, standing tall with a smile. It was so good to talk to another sane human being, even if she had to stare down a shotgun to do it. After a moment, the door swung wider, revealing Bill’s haggard face, beneath a shock of thick white hair that seemed to stand at attention. His wary eyes skipped past her and darted around the yard.
“Oh, my God, Bill, you’ve lost weight!”
He lowered the shotgun and smiled ruefully. “At last a diet that works, right?”
Wren stepped inside, threw her arms around him and hugged him hard, not letting go for a very long time. Bill hugged her back, uncomplaining. When they at last parted, they both had tears in their eyes.
Bill wiped at his with the back of his hand. “Well, get your ass inside, will ya?” He locked the door securely behind her.
“I am so glad you are alive. I am so glad to find another human being,” she blurted, running her fingertips under her own wet eyes. “What a nightmare, Bill, a horrible, horrible nightmare!”
“And you just caught the last act. You shoulda’ been here for the opening number.”
“I’m glad I wasn’t.”
He smiled again, this time sadly. “Me too. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”
“So, have you made your decision? You making a break for my cabin?”
“Haven’t had a better offer as of late,” he replied, leading her down a narrow hallway into a shadowy kitchen. Two children, a sandy-haired boy of around ten and the little pigtailed girl Wren had seen through Bills eyes earlier were sitting at the kitchen table with school books before them, though now their eyes were huge and trained on her with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. They wore good jeans and shirts with hoodie pullovers and high quality hiking boots, dressed just as Bill was. He’d thought of everything.
“Hi Wyatt. Hi Rhea. I’m Wren.”
“Hi,” they replied softly and in unison, timid smiles breaking out on their faces. Bill had them trained well.
“What are you doing?” she asked, moving closer and leaning over their workbooks. “Oh, I see. School’s still happening here at Bill’s.” She turned to lean against the kitchen table and crossed her arms. “Good thing. This will be over soon, and you don’t want to be behind the other kids when you get back to class.”
They both nodded, though she could read Wyatt was not fooled at all and was going along for his sister’s sake. Little Rhea was looking forward to seeing her friend Mallory again. And Miss Cooper, her favorite teacher. They were pure souls, she could see already.
Bill unloaded the shotgun, slipping the ammo into his pant pocket and leaned the gun against the wall by the door. “That’s the idea.”
Wren raised her eyebrows at him in question, but knew already he had decided to come with her. She let him tell her himself. “Yup, me and the kids have been talking about your offer of staying at your cabin, and we think it’s a terrific idea, don’t we kids?”
They both nodded again, this time with barely contained excitement. Staying in a darkened house for months, talking softly, walking softly, seeing no one, had taken its toll. They longed to be outside to run in the sunshine, to play, to shout.
Wren looked at Bill. “You saw my rig?”
“Briefly. You’ve got it loaded.”
“I figure you and Rhea in the front, and …” She stopped, seeing Bill had other plans. She pretended ignorance and let him speak.
“I haven’t been sitting on my laurels these last few months. I saw what was coming, and I prepared.”
She nodded. “I saw your articles. You stuck with it ‘til the end.”
He shrugged. “For as long as I could.”
“So, what do you have?” she asked, knowing already that Bill had prepared brilliantly. She was not surprised, in fact she wanted to crow with joy at what he was about to tell her.
“I have two trannies in the garage, fully packed to travel.” Bill ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately. “Me and Wyatt were up all night getting ready.”
Wren looked disbelieving. “You can drive a trannie, Wyatt?”
“Yes,” he answered proudly, glancing up at Bill for confirmation.
Bill nodded in agreement. “He’s tooled around the yard only, to get a feel for it. It was all we dared. But we knew the time would come we had to get out of Rushton; we’ve been getting ready for weeks.”
Wren was properly impressed. “That’s awesome.”
Wyatt’s eyes went to the floor as he fought a smile. Wren thought, what a charmer. They both were.
She asked, “So when do you want to leave?”
“You’ve been out there. What’s your opinion?”
“I’d like to leave as soon as possible, but if you’ve been up all night ...” She glanced significantly at Wyatt. “Should you maybe get a few hours of rest?”
“You’ve been up all night as well,” Bill replied. “Are you ready to sleep?”
She got his point. There was no way in hell she would be able to close her eyes and sleep.
“When did you eat last?”
She rubbed her midsection and bobbed her eyebrows significantly. “This morning. I found chocolate bars.”
“Chocolate bars?” Wyatt’s eyes spoke volumes. She guessed chocolate wasn’t heavily featured in their diet. “I have more in the Beast. You can each have one when we get to the cabin. They’re buried at the moment.”
“All right!” Wyatt and Rhea cried in unison, high-fiving one another and acting like children for the first time.
“Oh, and I had ravioli and peaches at my Dad’s house.”
Bill raised his eyebrows in question. She answered with a quick shake of her head.
“Okay.” Bill rubbed his hands together. “How about we eat a good meal, then take off. In the army, they used to say, ‘Food is as good as sleep’. And since we won’t be
sleeping, food will stand us in good stead.”
“Sounds like a plan. That’ll get us out of here long before–.” She stopped herself, not wanting to frighten the kids. Bill gave her a minuscule nod and with that they agreed to keep the more gruesome aspects from the kids.
Rhea offered, “We have grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Do you like grilled cheese?”
“Do I? It’s my very favorite.”
The kids prepared the sandwiches while Bill heated the grilling pan and the soup. Stirring the soup pot, Bill asked, “So, you mentioned some potential visitors. That still on?”
“I’m not certain. I – ah … I think one of them is otherwise engaged for the time being. His partner doesn’t know this yet, and I’m wondering if the visit might be postponed due to the loss of …” she searched for an appropriately benign expression. “You know, safety in numbers and all. They do tend to work in tandem, and with one down for the count, I’m thinking the appetite for a visit might be diminished. But, I wouldn’t bet my life on it.”
“Was it you who helped number two get himself otherwise engaged?”
“Ah-huh.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. I was lucky.” She shuddered despite herself. She would never forget that freezer.
Bill nodded thoughtfully. “So, in an hour?”
“Sure.
She glanced at the kids again. “How did you come by …” she let her words fade off.
He looked at the children, his expression softening. “Just lucky, I guess. To have them both immune was miraculous.”
Lost Sentinel: Post-Apocalyptic Time Travel Adventure (Earth Survives Series Book 1) Page 9