Reaper's Run - Plague Wars Series Book 1

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Reaper's Run - Plague Wars Series Book 1 Page 10

by David VanDyke


  -4-

  Days passed into weeks in a pleasant haze for Jill. She watched Owen a lot, freeing the rest to work the farm. They moved her into the barn loft, after she proved to them that she could handle the ladder just fine. Their excuse was to give her privacy and not crowd their two-bedroom house too much, but it also occurred to her that if someone showed up unexpectedly, she might at least have a chance to keep out of sight.

  She explored the hills behind the land as best she could, taking short painful trips upward with Klutz romping along, eventually to find a hollow with a cave-like overhang that might hide her if she needed to run. There was also a small obvious basement beneath the barn, and a genuine working root cellar beneath the house.

  Sometimes the two men would spend the day away in one of the pickup trucks, with no explanation. Usually the bed would be full of corn, heavy five-gallon buckets, and other things when they left, empty when they returned. Jill guessed they were servicing their still, and were smart enough to keep it well away from the farm.

  In three weeks her stumps had lengthened to the location of her former ankles. She wondered if they would just keep growing longer: if the disease that they now called the “Eden Plague” would know when to quit, or start making ankle joints.

  Jane had brought the disease’s name back from the church the McConleys attended, whispered in the usual gossip that nothing could stamp out. She also told Jill about some people whose old folks had suddenly passed on, and of new “cousins” that showed up unexpectedly. A deputy that attended, a relative of the number of interknit families in the region, had quietly warned people to keep quiet and not rock the boat.

  The radio lied but the gossip told of things getting worse instead of better, especially in the cities; of neighbors turning each other in, of quarantines with no cure and no one returning, of men who came in the middle of the night and took people away. Some said more nuclear weapons had been used, by terrorists or the Russians or Chinese, or even by the US against its own citizens.

  Jill had no trouble believing it.

  One day a pickup truck full of young men in uniform shirts drove up, wearing black armbands with some kind of spiky red symbol on them – perhaps a trident. Jill climbed the ladder to her loft, hand over hand, to watch through the board cracks. They talked to Jimmy for a moment, then Big Jim came out onto the porch and they talked some more. Finally the group drove off, looking unhappy.

  Once they were gone, Jill hurried over, her heavily modified prosthetics hurting more than ever. “What was that?” she asked.

  Jimmy replied, “Unionist party. Wanted us to come to some meetin’ they’re havin’. I told them I’d think about it.” He glanced at his father, who nodded in approval.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Jill almost exploded. “These are the people that are the most anti-Eden-Plague. They’re fascists. They’ll take away all your rights, and you’re thinking about joining them?”

  “Simmer down there, girl,” Big Jim said, an edge to his voice. “That’s exactly why Jimmy’s gonna go see what they have to say. Keep an eye on what’s goin’ on. If’n we spit in their faces right off, who do you think they’ll come after next?”

  Jill took a deep breath. “I understand what you’re saying, but…” she trailed off. “We can’t let them win.”

  “We’ll do what we can, girl, but I ain’t gonna get my family killed by bein’ no martyrs.” He pointed a finger at Jill, and she realized he’d never been stern with her, never been anything but kind…until now. “You become part o’ this family, and you told me you knew when to take orders. So as the head o’ this family and as your boss both, you need to fall in line. You don’t know nothin’ about nothin’ aroun’ here that we didn’t done teach you, so you gotta trust us on how to handle this. Amen?”

  Jill lowered her eyes. “Amen, boss.”

  “Good.” He stared at her for a moment more, then glanced at Jimmy, and then his wife and daughter. Sarah gave a slow nod, so he went on, “Come on out to the barn, girl. We got somethin’ to show you.”

  Jill looked at the women’s faces, seeing no fear, only determination. Wondering what this was about, she walked gingerly after the two men as they led her to the barn. “I already know about the cellar,” she said with a hint of defiance in her voice.

  “Do you now?” grunted Big Jim. Ignoring her and the visible cellar door of heavy planks set in the floor, the two men stepped over to get behind an old broken-down tractor that sat in a corner. From the side, they lifted and it tipped with surprising ease, holding it precariously balanced on two of its rusted wheels.

  Jimmy reached down to pull up a trap door while Big Jim held the tractor in place. Jill walked over and examined the setup in wonderment, realizing that the antique was gutted of its heavy parts, and was thus much lighter than it looked, needing not more than a couple of hundred pounds of dead lift to get it up on its side. One healthy person could probably do it, in fact.

  Looking below, she saw a dark opening and a ladder. “Come on down,” Jimmy said with a grin, and went in before her. “Don’t worry, this here lever will lift the tractor up if it gets closed. Got gears and ever’thing.”

  Jill followed, and soon found herself on a dirt floor in another, separate stone-walled basement. Jimmy reached for a flashlight and turned it on. The space was small, but boasted a triple bunk bed, and what looked like food and water for a few days. Other supplies – a lantern, fuel, books, linens – rested on shelves along one wall. A tiny plastic portable toilet sat in a corner.

  “This place has been here since the days of the War,” Jimmy said.

  “War?”

  “Civil War, you’d say.”

  Jill gaped. “That’s…”

  “More’n a century and a half, I know.” Jimmy turned to look Jill in the face, shining the flashlight against the floor. It gave him a devilish look, even more so when he grinned. “We McConleys is Abolitionists from way back. This here’s a gen-u-wine piece of the Underground Railroad. ’Course, the supplies and furniture’s newer.”

  “My God…”

  “When all that stuff happened, and you showed up, well, we figgered we might have to revive some of the old ways. We ain’t had nobody to stow yet, but if’n things keep gettin’ worse, mebbe we’ll be hidin’ Eden people. So now you know about this place, and you kin hop in here if’n you have to.”

  Impulsively she threw her arms around Jimmy, who reciprocated after a moment. “Thank you, Jimmy. You’re…you and your family…”

  “Mm. I’ll have to take you here more often, I think,” he chuckled in her ear.

  Jill pulled her head back to look at him. What the hell. She kissed him gently. “Yeah, maybe,” she breathed.

  “All right you two, break it up,” Big Jim called from up above, laughter in his voice. “Any courtin’s gonna be done up here in the light o’ day.”

  They broke their clinch with embarrassment, then climbed back up the ladder and watched as Big Jim closed up the hide. Jimmy and Jill swept dust and hay back to remove their traces while the older man walked out of the barn ahead of them, leaving them alone.

  “Listen, Jimmy,” Jill began. “I like you, but that was just something I did on impulse. I don’t know how you do things around here, so I just want to speak plainly: I’m not sure what it was, all right?”

  Jimmy smiled gently. “It’s all right, Miss Jill. I’m twenty-two. I kissed a few girls in my time. Even done a couple other things with ’em I don’t never tell my ma about. You ain’t gotta worry about no shotgun weddin’.” He stepped toward her, stopping within easy arm’s length. “On the other hand, I do like you. If’n you stay, well…reckon I ain’t against it.”

  “Okay, Jimmy. That’s fair.” Jill nervously pushed her lengthening hair behind her ears. “You’re a real gentleman, you know that?”

  “Yes ma’am. I’m from Tennessee. We’re –”

  “– all gentlemen till we get riled, right?” They laughed together, and walk
ed out of the barn toward the lunch waiting on the porch.

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