David thought to himself for a moment. “It’s not what I expected,” he paused, contemplating, “but it’s not terribly surprising.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” he hesitated, not knowing how to translate his thoughts, “I was hoping this place would be full of sunshine and everyone would be happy and have full bellies. I was expecting life to be better here than it is out there,” and he looked out the window, where the Outliers toiled in the life he’d had up until a few days ago, “and I suppose it is a little better, but not by much.”
“If it were, we wouldn’t be in such a pickle,” she added.
“Yeah. I guess I knew it wasn’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows here, but I wanted it to be.” He sighed and looked back at her, and she was smirking at him.
“When’s the last time you even saw a rainbow?” This did nothing to improve his mood. “I’m sorry the Base is so different from your vision,” she added.
He forced a grunt in reply. He could feel the idea that they, the two of them together, would craft a better life than the one they had inherited beginning to slip away.
They sat for a minute, one basking in the warmth of that dream while the other watched it fade, when a question popped into David’s head. “Do you know where my stuff is?”
“Your stuff?”
“My bow, and my pack.”
“They didn’t give it back to you? I thought I saw Al with it,” she said with a confused expression.
“Nope. I got one of my blankets back, but I would really like my bow. And my other stuff,” he said, thinking of the little revolver his hip felt so light without. The one with a handful of bullets, all that he had left. For emergencies.
“I’m sure the Mayor will give you your stuff back,” she said. “I doubt they’ll send you out of here completely empty-handed.”
“I certainly hope not.” His brow furrowed in dismay at the thought that they might do just that. “Speaking of the Mayor, any idea what the plan for me is?”
“I know a little, but I’ll let the Mayor fill you in on that. It’s probably better if he doesn’t know you were here, snooping around.” She had a sly, crooked smile that would make one believe she had been the one doing the sneaking.
“Fair enough, I suppose,” David ceded. “I’m kind of stuck with whatever plan—”
She cut him off, alarm spreading across her features. “Speaking of the Mayor—” She had glanced out the window; he followed suit and saw the crowd of bodies making their way back from the fields, “—you should probably get back. I don’t think you would want him to know you slunk into his daughter’s room while he was out in the fields.”
“His daughter?” David looked around at the room’s furnishings. He thought of all the events leading up to him standing in this room. The very fact that he was alive. It all made sense now.
She laughed and pulled him to his feet, giving him a shove out the door.
“Come and see me before you leave,” she said. “Or I’ll come see you. If I can. I don’t really know when they plan on sending you out there, but I would guess it will be sooner rather than later.”
David turned to say something but she had already shut the door. He made his way back to his broom cupboard, throwing himself onto the cot, trying to look like he had been there for a while. A girl walking by the door looked in and saw him wriggling around, trying to get settled, caught his eye and shot him a confused look that asked, What are you doing? He froze, staring at her, and she continued on, shaking her head. He rolled over and faced the wall, preparing himself for the arrival of the Mayor.
CHAPTER 25
“Hello, David.”
He knew the Mayor was coming; there had been a thundering of footsteps when the men had returned from the fields, and he had been anxiously awaiting the Mayor’s arrival for a while. He must have gone to change before coming to see David. His clothes looked void of soil. He was standing very straight, with David’s pack in one hand.
David rolled away from the wall and stood up to face the man with the mission.
“Hello,” was his curt reply. The Mayor motioned for David to sit down, and plopped his considerable girth next to him. David heard the metal legs of the cot squeal in protest, but they held. He leaned the pack up against the side of the bed between them.
“So,” the Mayor said as he sat stolidly, as if waiting for a reply, though he kept his eyes forward, toward the door. Light trickled in from the hallway, the dull glow of evening, a light dimmed by the dismal walls and dark wood floors. This close up, David could see how much the man’s skin sagged, part of what made him appear so caecilian, and realized that the man had a paunch and carried a good amount of reserve fuel, but must at one time have been much larger. David had been rather surprised at first to see such an overweight man in this new world of hunger, but this must be skinny version of the Mayor.
“I guess you’re probably curious what we would like you to do,” the man rumbled.
“It’s crossed my mind.”
“Mm,” the frog responded. “And if I told you we don’t need your help?”
David had not been expecting this, and hoped it was a bluff, a hypothetical question. “Waste-not-want-not,” David intoned. “I’m offering my help, no strings attached.”
“Ah, but there are strings,” the Mayor countered, a devilish grin, one well crafted (surely due to much practice), decorating his jowls.
“I just want the chance to survive, like everyone else. Just like you,” he said pointedly, looking at the chubby man whose eyes remained fixed on the door.
“And you want us to give it to you.” This was a statement, but he turned to David as he said it, eyebrows raised, as if it were a question. And he looked like he was waiting for an answer.
“I just—”
“I know, David. I just want to make sure that you are fully aware that you are not doing this as a selfless act. You are not a hero. Granted, you could have come over and joined the Outliers, you could still be planning on doing so. But know this. We are the ones with the resources. We are the ones that will carry on. You have not seen much of the people here, but they have been keeping those outside the walls from coming in for nearly two years, and they will fight to the death to keep it that way. Until a better scenario presents itself, at least. The water is choppy at the moment, it’s hard to tell which way we are headed, but I can tell you I would like it to be the path of peace. I do not want to see my people die, not a single one. I fear we are heading over a cliff into the violence that left us in this shit-hole, and that is the last thing that I want.
“We have tried to reason with them, we tried to give them some of what we have, but everything we have tried has failed. This can’t go on forever. By now, even if we had a solution, they would never accept it coming from one of us. There are hard feelings in both camps. Blood has been spilt. That’s a tough thing to reconcile, chumming up with the ones who killed your best friend or your wife or your son.” He paused and sighed, and David believed he saw a tear gathering in the corner of his eye. Perhaps the man was not so hard, after all.
“David, if you can do that, if you can bring our peoples closer together, you will deserve the thanks and respect of every man and woman left alive today. We may very well be the last chance humanity has; those who have left to find other sanctuaries of humanity have never, not once, returned, and food everywhere is running out. If we can’t make this work, we face extinction. I hate to say that I can’t do this, but maybe it is just beyond me. That’s why you’re here. That’s why I didn’t have you thrown out immediately. That’s why I didn’t strangle you myself when I thought you had kidnapped my daughter. That is why I am passing the torch on to you.”
He gave David a long, hard look containing the most emotion David had seen from this monolith. In it was the despair at being incapable of doing what needed to be done for the good of his people. The hope that David would be able to accomplish this feat. And the fear
of what would happen if David was not up to the task.
But he was.
“I will do the best I can.”
“That’s all—”
“No,” David interrupted, a fire rising within him. “I will do it. I will find a way. I will not let the impossible overwhelm me again. I won’t go there. I can’t. I’ve seen what life has to offer and I want it. I want everyone to have it. I’ve been alone, and it was too much for me to handle, so I will protect as many people as I can. You have my word. This place is an oasis, and it’s a desert out there. We all need this place. They know it out there, or they would have left by now. No, they know it just as well as you and I, and there has to be a way to make everyone happy, or at least keep them fed. There has to.” David quieted, his breathing labored, aware that his shirt was sticking to his back with sweat, and his face was flushed. He wasn’t looking at the Mayor anymore. His eyes were locked on the floor between his feet. “You’re right.”
The Mayor cocked his head questioningly.
“I’m not a hero. I want this for myself as much as for everyone else. But that changes nothing.”
David saw the Mayor beaming at him from the corner of his eye.
“I think you’re just what we need.”
CHAPTER 26
David had thrown out his idea of getting the Outliers to turn on each other, at least so they could be dealt with in groups rather than as a whole. He thought maybe the Mayor would be more open to this idea than Elizabeth had been, though he felt guilty introducing the plan behind her back. When the Mayor heard the proposed strategy, he had given David a look like they shared a secret, the corners of his mouth curling up and his eyes narrowing. He had cleared his throat and rejected it, though, saying they should focus on a peaceful option; the other might work in the short term, but may be the first step onto a slippery slope. David agreed.
After the Mayor left, David went through his bag to make sure everything was there. His supplies (clothes, a knife, tarp, etc.) were all present. There had even been added a few cans of beans and other assorted food. The only thing missing, the most important thing, was his bow. The revolver he was not so concerned about; he was nearly out of ammunition anyway and he was more proficient with his bow. Once a hammer had stuck on a gun he relied on and it nearly cost him his life. The bow was just more practical. It didn’t hurt that the ammo was reusable either.
He hadn’t asked why his weapons were not being returned to him, but he assumed he knew why. They may invest a modicum of trust in him, but not to a fault. He would have nothing to fight with should the conflict boil over between the Base and their neighbors. He could try and find it, but then he risked being caught lurking around and that may dissipate the good will he had garnered thus far.
He had until morning to decide. The Mayor had instructed him to leave just before dawn. Someone would come to see him off in that gray void before the morning, and he would be off. He could sleep, or he could try to find his bow. Maybe he could get someone’s help.
Now was not the time though. He would ask her tomorrow. If he saw her, which he hoped he would. He could always sneak upstairs once the Base quieted down. He rose and went to the door, peeking his head out to see if anyone was around. His head made contact with the folds of an old leather jacket worn by a very tall, lean man with his back to the door. He turned and studied David with an annoyed grimace, and David smiled, embarrassed, and retreated back to his bunk. Perhaps he should get some shut-eye.
“Thanks for watching out for me. Slept a lot easier with you out here.” David flashed a falsely appreciative smile at the man guarding his door as he made his way out into the hallway. He had not slept much at all.
The man grunted and sidled down the hall, surely perturbed at having to spend the night guarding a closet. He had been the one to knock on the door and growl that it was time to go, but David knew the way to the front door and the man had not seemed to care if he went alone.
David watched him turning the corner, then hurried in the opposite direction to Elizabeth’s room. He knocked as quietly as he could on the door, which swung open at his touch. It was empty, the blankets on the bed ruffled, but clearly void of any sleepers. There was a thin mattress on the floor that was inhabited by another girl. Anne, he guessed. He couldn’t be sure in the dark, but it was certainly not the one he had come to find.
David shut the door carefully and tiptoed back down the stairs, cursing the old house and all the noise aroused by every shifting of his weight on the treacherous floorboards. When he reached the front door, he stepped out into the dark morning, taking a deep breath through his nose of the crisp air. It felt frosty in his nostrils. There wasn’t much time before the snow once again buried them, and perhaps broke the back of the camel that kept the two armies in relative peace. David did not have an exact time limit, but the Mayor had surmised (and he agreed) that if the Outliers were becoming so desperate and running completely out of food, they probably could not last another winter on their own, and would attack the Base rather than limp to the grave.
This gave him about two weeks. An optimistic estimate.
He took one foot off the porch and onto the ground, then the other; his boots crunching in the dirt path that led to the main gate. David strolled forward, puffing his chest out, trying to look the very epitome of courage, though there was no one around to impress. The Mayor had planned to send him over the wall opposite the Outliers’ camp. Mitch knew David was on his way to the Base last they had seen each other though, so he made his way to the front of the compound. He was alone until he reached the gate, where there were four guards, two standing on the ground, and two on a platform that allowed them to see over the wall. David looked over and saw that the wall was dotted with guards all along its length.
One of the guards heard David’s approach and whirled around. He approached, rifle in hand, the butt to his shoulder but the muzzle aimed down. When he came close enough for facial features to be recognizable, he seemed to relax. David thought it was odd that he had seemed so tense; shouldn’t he be more worried about someone coming in from the other side of the wall? Pretty jumpy, he thought.
“Hey, I’m—”David began.
“We’ve been expecting you.”
The guard turned back around and shouted something to the other guard on the ground. The man turned and propped his hunting rifle up against the wall. The guard that had spoken to David did the same and they worked together to lift what must have been the trunk of a pine tree from where it had been barring the gate. They set it down and one of them pushed the gate open. This was it.
“Thanks,” David said.
“Good luck out there,” one of the guards said. David raised a hand to him and wondered if he was the one that had led the welcoming committee that placed David in the basement. No use holding a grudge, he decided, and turned back to face the outside world. He turned as the gatekeeper said something else.
“In case anyone’s watching.” Rough hands spun him around and shoved him hard, sending him sprawling into the mud outside the Base.
The large wooden gate slammed behind him and he heard the shuffle as they replaced the bar. A few words escaped through the cracks of the wall. He imagined it was something along the lines of ‘I wouldn’t doubt him’ or ‘I bet he’ll do it’ though it was probably more like ‘I doubt we’ll be seeing him again.’
CHAPTER 27
It didn’t take long to locate the Outliers. There were a few columns of smoke rising from the forest, so David headed toward the thickest one, hoping to find the main group camped there. He hoped to be recognized by more than just Mitch. He had little time to make himself known to everyone. More than anything, he prayed that they would believe his alibi.
He stumbled through the short grass, having to stop and rest occasionally, his legs not having fully recovered from the several days’ worth of cramps he had earned in the cellar. The day before had also left him sore. If only everyone could get along, he wouldn’
t have to walk back and forth between camps.
It was cold enough that he was surprised not to see his breath swirl around him; he guessed it wouldn’t take much to change that. Soon the ground would harden, the frost would coat everything, and then the snow would bury them. His time here would be brief, and he would have to work fast. He wished there were birds to chirp from the trees. It was too quiet, nothing but the sound of his own footsteps over the still-healing forest floor. Looking down, he passed over a dry patch of dirt and had the feeling he was picking at someone else’s scab; he immediately avoided it and stuck to the grass as he entered the trees.
Even with his task at hand keeping him from stomaching anything more than a few sips of water that morning, being surrounded by the timeless entities that had outlived the desolation of man’s oldest societies made him feel better. They knew how to persevere, at least most of them. Those who had survived the long winter would go on to repopulate the Earth. Hopefully it wouldn’t be just the trees.
Looking warily around, David felt he had to be close to the fire. Soon there would be the remnants of those who had fled to Mother Nature’s bosom. Some from Canada, Mitch had said. David may have found the survivors he thought were all dead, but this had to be it. This was really it.
It was harder to see the smoke now that he was in the forest, but he knew he was headed the right direction. Soon, very soon—
“Hey!”
David cringed. It had begun. No turning back now.
He threw his hands up in the air, turning to face the voice that assailed him.
“Who are you, and what are you doing out here?” The voice belonged to a burly man covered in scars. A bruiser. How lucky.
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