Forager (9781771275606)

by Scheer, Ron

  I liked Charlie. When he wasn’t driving the combine, he spent his time tinkering with old engines and pumps, and all sorts of mechanical things. He knew a lot about how things went together, and he was always willing to share that knowledge.

  He led me to the open engine compartment and pointed at an oblong cylinder with a pulley on one end and a wiring harness on the other. “That there’s the problem. If’n you can find us another one, me and the lady’d sure be grateful.”

  I took a good hard look at the alternator, making sure I knew exactly how to remove it. Sawyer rode up and pointed at the three bolts holding it in place. “It’s not too big of a job. Remove those three bolts, unhook the wiring harness and slip the belt off the pulley. Just as well bring the belt back with you. It wouldn’t hurt to have a spare.”

  “Good thinking Mr. Forager. I should’a told him that m’self,” Charlie replied.

  “Any questions?” Sawyer asked.

  “Not really. Is there anything else I need to know?”

  “Yep,” replied Charlie. “You gotta know the number and the year. Ya see ya can’t just use any alt’nator off the first combine ya find. It’s gotta match. This here combine was made in oh nine and its number is one-two-seven-four. The number’s the easy part. It’ll be printed big on the large panels behind the front wheels. The year’s a bit more difficult. On this machine, it’s stamped on a metal plate inside the cab.”

  I climbed up the three steps right behind Charlie and he showed me a plate with a whole mess of numbers. “You’ll want the last two in the first line. That shows the year it was built. Here’s the tricky part. The number on the machine and the number on the alt’nator ain’t gonna be the same. Even the replacement might not be numbered the same as the one on this combine, ’cause every part man’facturer had their own numberin’ system. That’s about it. Now you get on searchin’. Me, I gotta keep this old lady runnin’. Mayor ain’t gonna be too happy if we waste much more time.”

  I explained about Chane missing and asked Charlie if he’d seen her.

  “I ain’t. I bet the mayor’s in a tizzy, though. Last thing he needs after yesterday’s attack is another fire to put out. It bein’ his daughter and all.”

  We rode back into town. I understood now why he’d taken me out to the combine. I never would have known the alternator was specific to the harvester and all sorts of bad things could happen if we used the wrong one. Proving that I could be more than a lookout meant paying attention to things like this, and getting them right.

  My busy morning and the task ahead weighed on me. I worried over what else I might need to know to make this work.

  Sawyer seemed to be thinking the same thing. “I wish I could give you more. More knowledge, more training, more of everything, but I can’t. Those things only come with experience. Be careful out there. Scavengers could be anywhere. Just like this town is harvesting for winter, so are the Scavengers, in the only way they can.”

  Small shudders ran through his body as I held him loosely around the middle. Sweat beaded on his neck. His fever was getting worse. I reminded myself to check his leg when we got back to my RV.

  “When you’re out there tomorrow, don’t bother checking houses that don’t have big outbuildings. If you’re going to find a harvester with a working generator, it’ll be stored in a machine shed or large barn.”

  I’d already worked that out for myself.

  “It’s pretty wide open out there. Not a lot of cover. For the most part, you’ll be able to see anyone coming from a long way off. On the other hand, they’ll be able to see you just as easily. Your best bet, if you see anyone, is to move away from them. There aren’t many people out there. Any you do see won’t be benevolent.”

  It sounded lonely. There would be no one to talk to but Fred. But then, I was used to loneliness. It was how I spent most of my days anyway.

  “Don’t spend more than two days searching. If you haven’t found the generator by the middle of the second day, start back. Traveling at night is risky, so give yourself plenty of time to get here before sundown. Fred’s a smart horse, but even she can’t see in the dark.”

  “If I’m only going to be gone for two days, why’d you ask Millie for three days’ worth of food?”

  “Things happen. You can never be too prepared. I’d much rather see you have too much of something than not enough.”

  My mind wandered as his talking tapered off. I pictured myself opening a set of barn doors and finding a pristine combine just waiting for me. I drummed my fingers on my thigh, anxious to be doing something more than listening to Sawyer tell me how dangerous it could be.

  But I knew it was dangerous. “Do you run across Scavengers often?” I asked.

  “Some. Mostly they stay away from Foragers. We don’t have enough of anything to make it worth the risk of tangling with us.”

  I liked the confidence in his words. It was a statement, not a boast.

  “Keep your mind on this task, Dillon. It could be the most important thing you’ll ever do for this town. Don’t let thoughts of glory interfere with your common sense. I’ve seen enough of you already to know that you’re capable. Do this job right, and you’ll earn the respect of many of your neighbors.”

  I was seriously starting to think he was some kind of clairvoyant.

  “You remind me a lot of myself when I was your age. Every kid wants to prove himself. The problem is that most of them take unnecessary risks. Don’t be like that. This mission has enough risks as it is. Don’t go looking for more.”

  We were almost back to the school where we’d left the wheelchair and crutches. The search for Chane seemed to be waning, and fewer people ambled around looking for her.

  Right as we passed under the pole that held the speaker for the civil service siren, its deafening blare sounded and spooked Fred. She startled away to the right so quickly, it threw me sliding to the left. Thankfully Sawyer swung his arm around and kept me from being tossed over the side like last week’s laundry.

  There were only two reasons for that siren to be going off—bad weather or Scavengers. I didn’t have to look up. I’d been outside most of the afternoon. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

  Chapter Ten

  Sawyer looked at me and, over the noise, mouthed the word “where.” He knew it, too. Scavengers. The alarm spooked me at least as much as it had Fred, and I’d failed to pay attention to its sequence. Holding up a hand, I waited for the order to repeat. Three mournful howls later the siren paused. I immediately pointed south.

  “Hang on!” Sawyer shouted. He put his heels to Fred. She took off so fast it reminded me of the old bottle rockets Dad found when I was a kid. He’d used an old piece of pipe stuck into the ground and a plastic lighter to ignite the fuses. The sparks sizzled as the fuse burned. Then, all at once, whoosh. That was Fred.

  A bit more warning would have been nice. Sawyer must have thought I’d be better prepared for Fred’s acceleration after my…incident earlier. Not a chance. I slid halfway off the sack of oats before I managed to get my fingers in Sawyers’ belt. It was still touch and go for a bit.

  Flinging my arms around Sawyer’s middle, I hung on. The wind in my face stirred up the smell of dried leaves and Millie’s cooking smoke. Tears leaked from my eyes. I’d never gone this fast. Everything streaked by in a blur. I wasn’t sure how Sawyer could see clearly enough to direct Fred, but she never faltered. The pure speed of our passage stole my breath. Fred’s muscles rippled under me. I didn’t have anything to compare it to. I only knew that it was awesome.

  We passed a lot of the townsfolk frantically running toward the armory. Everyone was spread out searching for Chane; this attack couldn’t have come at a worse time.

  In a few short minutes, we arrived back to where we’d started yesterday. Had it really only been a day ago? It seemed it must have been a week at least.

  We were the first to arrive. I’d have much preferred to have several hundred of my neighbors already there.
Peeking out from behind Sawyer’s back, I looked for the Scavengers, but even from atop the horse, I couldn’t see them. Hopefully, it was a false alarm, though I doubted it.

  Failing to see the Scavengers, I spotted the deer I’d shot. Something, coyotes most likely, had torn into it during the night. Its carcass was mangled and ravaged. Why hadn’t it been taken to the slaughterhouse? My stomach twisted in remorse over shooting the buck. If I’d been able to make use of its meat, or even its pelt, it wouldn’t have bothered me, but seeing the buck lying there half eaten and decomposing made me wonder if I deserved my forthcoming punishment. I shook off the thought. I was responsible for killing the buck, not wasting it. My punishment was to satisfy the mayor’s sense of right and wrong. Not my own.

  The amount of damage the house had received in yesterday’s attack surprised me. Bullet holes riddled its wooden siding and the last remaining window on the ground floor was shattered. The three arrows embedded in the second-story window frame almost made me glad Josh and Jason forced me from the room.

  I started to dismount. Fred was blowing hard and I figured having my weight off her would make it easier for her to catch her breath. “No, Dillon. Stay up here with me for now.”

  “What about Fred?”

  “She’ll be fine. It’s not the first time she’s galloped under a heavy load.”

  Fred’s breathing began to slow. I put a hand down to her flank and gave her an affectionate pat. She really was quite a horse.

  “Where are they?” Sawyer called to the window.

  Craig poked his head out and looked down at us. He held a pair of field glasses in his hand. “About a mile and half out. Where is everybody?”

  I explained to him about Chane being missing and how everyone was so spread out.

  “They better get here quick. If this band is as bloodthirsty as yesterday’s we’re in a lot of trouble.”

  “How many?” Sawyer asked from the saddle.

  “It’s hard to say for sure, they’re all grouped together. I’d guess around eighty or so. It’s kinda strange. They’re just all standing around like they’re waiting for something.”

  “Good,” I said. “The longer they wait the better.”

  “Normally I’d agree with you, but Scavengers don’t usually mill around when they’re this close to a town. Something’s off.” Sawyer cupped his chin with his right hand.

  I hated to disagree with Sawyer, but I was glad they were standing around. It gave our defenders more time to arrive.

  “Can you tell what kind of weapons and horses they have?” Sawyer asked.

  “They’re too far out to see much, but I can definitely make out a few rifles,” Craig replied. “Most of the horses are pulling trailers. There are a few with riders, but most everybody’s on foot.”

  “Uh Sawyer, can I borrow your bow again?” I asked

  “Let’s hold off on that for a bit. I’m not sure this is an attack.”

  Attack or not, I wanted to be armed. Eighty Scavengers with rifles made me more than a little nervous.

  A few townsfolk drifted in, including the mayor. I was glad to see them and their weapons. The shotgun the mayor carried yesterday was gone. In its place he had a military assault rifle. I didn’t blame him. The shotgun was devastating at close range, but I didn’t want any Scavenger getting that close to me. He saw Sawyer and me on the horse but chose not to speak to us. Instead, he shouted up to Craig and asked him the same questions Sawyer had.

  Time crawled while we waited. I was worried about the impending attack, but with nothing to see or do, my thoughts wandered. Where was Chane? Was she all right? But even my anxiety couldn’t hold back the flood of thoughts I had about tomorrow’s Foraging expedition.

  From listening to some of the older townsfolk, I knew there weren’t a lot of houses out there. Sometimes there might only be one house and its outbuildings in an entire mile section. Usually, though, there were at least three or four. I hoped to get lucky and find the right harvester early in the search. But what if I didn’t find one at all? I wasn’t one of the mayor’s favorite people right now. If I came back empty-handed…I wasn’t sure what the mayor would do.

  “Pay attention, Dillon,” Sawyer said. “Quit woolgathering.”

  How did he do that? Every time my mind wandered from our current task, he knew it without even having to look at me.

  “I was a kid once too, Dillon. It isn’t hard to imagine what you’re thinking. Quit worrying about finding that alternator. You’ll either find it or you won’t.”

  Easy for him to say. His hide wasn’t on the line. I needed to prove to this town, to the mayor, and to myself that I could be more than just a lookout. I needed to find that alternator.

  About twenty defenders had gathered to hold off the impending attack. Their restless wandering and quick backward glances spoke loudly about the need for reinforcements.

  Despite what Sawyer said, Scavengers always raided. I wasn’t putting a lot of faith in this being anything other than an attack.

  Craig called from the window, “They’re starting to move!”

  “Are they in any kind of formation?” Sawyer asked.

  “No, they’re all still bunched together. It almost looks like the whole lot of them is out for an afternoon stroll.”

  “Keep your weapons down. Nobody fire unless I say so.” Sawyer said.

  “What are you talking about? They’ll slaughter us if we don’t defend ourselves!” the mayor yelled.

  “I don’t think they’re going to attack,” Sawyer argued. “Ask yourself this—what are they waiting for? You can bet at least one of them out there has a pair of binoculars. They know we’re undermanned right now. Why would they wait? They’re hungry and desperate, but they’re not stupid. This is not an attack.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you say, Forager. I’m not lowering my rifle,” the mayor said. “I’ve got a town to protect.”

  “If you want to protect this town and the people in it, don’t shoot at the Scavengers,” Sawyer said.

  I could hear by tightness in his voice Sawyer was losing his patience. For once, I agreed with the mayor. If we weren’t ready for the Scavengers, we’d be annihilated.

  “Three riders are breaking away from the rest of the group,” Craig called from the window. Looking up, I saw the binoculars glued to his eyes.

  “Wait…the last horse…it’s carrying two riders. I can’t tell much, they’re still too far away. The bulk of the group is hanging back.”

  Sawyer sighed and his body relaxed in relief. “They’re not attacking. I’m not sure what they are doing, but nobody attacks with four riders.” Sawyer turned to the mayor. “Put that gun down.”

  The mayor grudgingly lowered his rifle, a frown wrinkling his face.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Sawyer shook his head.

  “The riders are about half a mile out!” Craig called. “There waving a towel, a white towel.”

  “So that’s it,” Sawyer said. “They want to parley.”

  “Huh?” I asked.

  “They want to talk.”

  “What about?”

  “I don’t have a clue. Maybe they’ve got something they want to trade. Who knows, maybe they want to reform and come live here. It could be anything.”

  The mayor looked over at us. “Somebody get me a horse. I won’t be the only one out there on foot. I suppose you better come along too, Sawyer. You are a Forager, after all. Leave the boy. He might try and shoot one of them.”

  Would he ever let me forget about the deer? He didn’t seem to have a problem with the townsfolk killing Scavengers. Why was killing a deer worse?

  Sawyer reached in one of his saddlebags and pulled out his wide-brimmed green hat. The silver clover on the front of the crown gleamed in the bright sunlight. “Dillon’s just fine where he is. It never hurts to have an extra pair of ears when your enemy is talking.”

  The mayor shook his head in frustration

  W
as Sawyer intentionally using me to aggravate him? I decided I didn’t care. As long as Sawyer was offering me a chance to do something important, I wasn’t going to question his motives.

  The mayor climbed on the back of a gray workhorse one of our defenders had ridden. I watched in dismay as Jason climbed on behind him. The mayor gave an irritating smile. “As you said, Sawyer, it never hurts to have an extra pair of ears.”

  What made the males in that family such tyrants? I wondered if the mayor knew that his sons tormented me. Was that why he was bringing Jason along? I didn’t dwell on it. Jason was coming. The four of us set off.

  “Wait! We’re coming too!” Kurt and another Bull rode up next to us on a pair of horses. “We have to protect the mayor.”

  Sawyer held Fred to a slow walk, forcing the mayor and the Bulls to do the same. I ran through Sawyer’s suggestions about why the Scavengers wanted to talk. He mentioned them having something to trade. That made more sense to me than them wanting to reform. I’d never heard of one that had. Not only that, but I was pretty sure there was no way the mayor would willingly allow a Scavenger, reformed or not, into our town.

  Our horses drew closer. Two riders flanked a third, just as the Bulls flanked the mayor. As we closed with them even more, I saw that the middle horse, the one I assumed carried their leader, held two riders.

  The mounted man on the left continued to slowly wave the white towel. He wore faded jeans and a dirty flannel shirt with the sleeves torn off. He was every bit as big as Josh, and a few years older. His scraggly hair and unruly red beard looked like mice could have nested in it.

  We stopped about twenty feet apart. The guard with the towel lowered it and said, “In a moment, we’ll be bringing up the trailers for you to fill with supplies.”

  “And what makes you think we’ll comply?” the mayor asked.

  The rider on the right wore faded denim jeans and an unkempt shirt. He wasn’t as big as his counterpart, but the glasses resting on his pointy nose and the confident set to his shoulders gave me the impression he was the brain to the other guard’s muscle. “Oh, I have no doubt that you don’t want to do it, but you will.”