by Craig Zerf
Ammon nodded. ‘You speak the truth, general. I am at a loss. For now, let us say that we shall keep a close eye on things. As far as the Orc disobedience goes. We shall stamp down hard on it. All disobedience, however slight, will be met with the hangman’s noose. If an Orc is caught fraternizing with a human on any level then the human shall likewise be hung. See to it. That is all. Leave me, collect the troops together. Tomorrow we ride for London.’
General Atemu bowed to the commander.
‘It shall be as you have decreed, commander. May the light be with you.’
‘And also with you,’ returned Ammon.
Chapter 26
Nathaniel watched the sun rise over the farm.
It had been a year and there were over one thousand people living at Harry’s farm now. Wooden cabins had been built from scratch, a water tower had been erected and irrigation trenches ran through the fields as did covered sewage drains and piped water to common areas amongst the cabins.
When Nathaniel looked back on the last year it seemed a little crazy. They had created a large village from nothing. It might have been easier and made more sense if they had all simply decamped to an existing village but that wasn’t how it had happened.
Harry’s Farm had evolved. It had grown organically, albeit with some form of planning. And now it was a thriving, self-contained Mecca.
After Nathaniel and Tad had ridded the farm of the undesirables they had freed Harry and then, at his request, stayed on. The three of them had then planned out how the farm was going to progress and stay safe.
Now, a year later, the inner circle was surrounded by a wooden stockade with stout gates. An outer safe area stood outside the stockade and this was enclosed in coils of razor wire rolled between wooded posts. Further outside the second perimeter was a third one consisting of an eight-foot chain link fence. Inside this final perimeter lay the fields for food cultivation. This third fence was patrolled both day and night by a series of patrols on both horse and foot.
Hunting and foraging parties left the farm on a daily basis and, sometimes, they stayed away for a few days. People were still welcomed with open arms and it had been decided that all comers would be treated with respect as opposed to suspicion. But this time, the respect would be tempered with the steel of weapons. Tough love.
And it was working. For the first time since the pulse, Nathaniel saw mankind’s better side on a daily basis and it was an uplifting thing.
‘Penny for your thoughts.’
The marine was pulled from his reverie by Tad’s greeting.
‘Hi, Tad. Nothing much. Just thinking in general. Yourself?’
‘Truth be known, my friend,’ answered Tad. ‘I’m bored out of my mind.’
‘What about Janeka? Trouble in paradise?’
Tad laughed. ‘Steady on, chap. We’re just two adults having a good time. Well,’ Tad continued. ‘We used to be two adults having a good time. Now we’re more, two adults bickering at each other the whole time. Got nothing in common, you see. Nice girl, though.’
‘Got any cigarettes?’ Asked the marine.
Tad nodded. ‘Home made. From Harry’s tobacco plants. They’re not bad. Here.’ The small man pulled out a pouch, opened the neck and extracted a couple of hand rolled finger sized cigars. He put one in his mouth and proffered the other to Nathaniel.
The marine clicked his fingers together and a small flame burned in the air above his thumb. He leaned over and lit Tad’s cigarillo, then his own.
‘You’re getting pretty nifty with that whole conjuring of fire thing,’ commented Tad.
Nathaniel shrugged. ‘Parlor games. Good for lighting fires and cigarettes, seeing at night. No real power, though. No matter how hard I try. Some sort of mental block. Who knows?’
The two of them smoked in silence for a while.
Then Nathaniel said.
‘I’m leaving. Heading north. Milly is safe here. Gramma and the girls have a place of their own. I need to keep going.’
Tad blew a smoke ring. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll come with.’
‘You sure?’
‘Sure enough,’ said Tad. ‘I know that I’m not the framing type. Also, I think that Janeka and I should part ways before things get ugly.’
Right then,’ said the marine. ‘I’ll tell Harry, speak to Gramma and then have a talk with Milly. Not sure how she’ll take it.’
‘I’ll tell Janeka and then prep for the journey, food, horses, weapons. Cigarillos.’
‘Don’t forget furs,’ said Nathaniel. ‘I know that it’s mild at the moment but as winter comes around again and we head north we’re going to freeze our cojones off.’
The two men went their separate ways to carry out their plans.
***
They left late afternoon. Harry had wanted to throw a going away feast but the two friends simply wanted to slip away. There were tears from Milly. She told Nathaniel that she loved him. He told her that he would see her again. She made him promise. He did.
Janeka threw a tantrum and Gramma simply nodded and gave her blessing.
Nathaniel felt bad leaving Milly but he knew that he had to go on. He did not question it as he was being drawn by something far stronger than mere compulsion. His needs were being dictated by his destiny.
And Nathaniel knew that it would be a mistake to look too far ahead, for only one link of the chain of destiny can be handled at a time.
They rode north with a purpose, not rushing, never even rising to a trot, but walking fast. Going forwards. Being on the move once more felt good.
Neither of them talked, easy in the company of their silence. Friends who had hunted and killed and more. Warriors, survivors. Protectors.
The land was devoid of humanity and small game was plentiful. Birds, squirrels, rabbits and deer were thick on the ground. In the last year forests had started to expand. Shooting up unchallenged saplings for acres around every mature wooded area.
They halted an hour or so before dark and put up camp. As was the marine’s habit they chose a spot secluded from line of sight, in amongst the trees, well sheltered and close to water. Then Nathaniel set snares for game while Tad collected firewood and built a fire. They had brought victuals from the farm so there was no need to forage.
The rose early the next morning, up with the sun. As it did every morning the aurora borealis shimmered across the skies, creating a light show that had lost its beauty in its familiarity.
Every trap was full of a fat rabbit. Six in all. Nathaniel gutted and dressed them before they moved on, once again traveling due north horses at a fast walk.
Two days later they met two men named Bob. Both were in their late fifties and could have been brothers. Average height, gray bearded, wiry and taciturn. They were camped outside the remains of a tiny village called Whategill. A collection of ten or so houses that had burned down around six months before, judging from the state of plant growth that had taken over.
Both men welcomed Nathaniel and Tad to their fire but Nathaniel noticed they both kept their wood axes close to hand. The marine and the little man offered up a batch of five rabbits to add to the dinner and the four of them sat and chatted over the evening repast.
Both Bobs had worked for a curtain accessory company, curtain rails, hooks, tie-backs, and were on a sales conference being held at a Holiday Inn on the outskirts of London when the pulse struck.
Bob Walter was the regional sales manager and Bob Resnick was the marketing manager. They hailed from Devon, just out side of Cornwall and, as soon as they realized the severity of the pulse they both headed home. Back to Devon and their families. It took them a little under five days to walk the two hundred or so miles to the hometown that they shared. When they got there they could find no sign of their families. Bob Walter’s wife and daughter and Bob Resnick’s wife and two young sons.
They had searched for months, trudging from place to place, showing photos to all that they met. Hoping. Praying. They never found the
m. It was as if they had been kidnapped by aliens.
‘So,’ said Bob Walter. ‘We decided to head north. That was some few months back, and here we are. Still heading north.’
‘Why?’ Asked Nathaniel. ‘Why didn’t you simply stay where you were. Keep searching?’
Bob raised an eyebrow. ‘Because of the Orcs,’ he said. ‘Don’t know about you, but we couldn’t stand them. Horrible. Ugly pig-faced bastards. Didn’t trust them.’
Nathaniel laughed. ‘Yeah, ‘ he agreed. ‘Should never trust an Orc, that’s what I’ve always said.’
Tad smiled as well, appreciating Bob’s sense of humor.
‘Seriously though, Bob,’ continued the marine. ‘Why the urge to leave and head north.’
Both Bobs stared at Nathaniel like he was a little simple. Or perhaps simply deaf.
‘The Orcs,’ repeated Bob Walter. ‘And the goblins. And their creepy masters, the so called Fair-Folk.’
There was a long pause as both Nathaniel and Tad started at the Bobs. Eventually Tad spoke.
‘Sorry guys, but are we talking Lord of the Rings type Orcs here?’
Both Bobs nodded.
‘And goblins. Little squat ugly dudes with green skin?’
Again a duo of nodding agreement.
‘Greenish,’ said Bob Resnick
There was another pause that was eventually broken by Nathaniel.
‘Bullshine.’
I take it that you haven’t had the pleasure of coming across them yet?’ Asked Bob Walter.
Nathaniel shook his head. ‘Sorry, guys, but I simply do not believe you.’
Bob Walter gave a wry grin. Trust me, my friend. If I was going to make crap up I would not have gone for Orcs and goblins and trolls.’
‘Trolls as well,’ said Tad.
‘Yep,’ continued Bob Walter. ‘Trolls as well. Huge hairy mothers. Anyway, there’s millions of the buggers. They’ve taken control of Cornwall and Devon and the last that we heard they were marching on what remains of London.
Nathaniel burst out laughing. Both Bobs looked a little offended.
‘What,’ said Bob Walter. ‘You don’t believe us?’
Nathaniel stopped laughing and shook his head. ‘It’s not that, fellows. I do believe you, that’s what’s so bloody funny. You just told me a story about Orcs and goblins and trolls marching on London and I believed you. Man,’ continued the marine. ‘I really do not know what is going on here but this is some seriously messed up stuff.’
‘How come this is the first that we’ve heard of it?’ Asked Tad. ‘I mean, where the hell did they come from?’
Bob Resnick shrugged. ‘Don’t know. Why would you have, I suppose. One thing that we noticed during our trek from Devon to here, there aren’t a lot of people left. Disease, starvation, violence, fires. They all took their toll. I’d say, at the maximum, the survival rate after the first full year of the new world was, maybe ten percent. Maybe a little more.’
Tad went pale. ‘Jesus,’ he whispered. ‘Are you saying that, in the last year, over sixty million people have perished?’
Bob Walter nodded. ‘Maybe less. Maybe I’m out by a few million.’
‘Still,’ said Tad. ‘Fifty or sixty or more, it makes no difference. It’s…it’s…’
The little man put his head in his hands. Nathaniel noticed that he was weeping. Slow, fat tears ran down Tad’s cheeks. No one spoke for a while.
Nathaniel turned his mind away from the reality. It was too much to absorb. He had, obviously, expected that wholesale death had occurred but he had deliberately shied away from thinking of the actual numbers. And, now that they were out there, he simply refused to think about them. Over time the reality would soak in and he would be able to handle it but he needed to ignore the facts for a while. Because if he didn’t then his guilt would overcome him. Being, not only one of the few survivors but also to have been gifted with a hyper-extended life by something that had resulted in the deaths of billions of people worldwide was a complete mind-blast. He had to stay frosty. Prepared. He hoped that he had been saved for a reason and, as such, he could not, he would not, let the awfulness of reality sink him.
The next morning the two couples went their separate ways. Both continued heading north but, without talk or discussion, they simple walked off at different tangents. Because, in a world gone to crap in a handbag, trust ran only skin deep and there was not enough left to go around any more.
They rode for another three days and the weather got colder as they went further north. Small patches of snow lay strewn across the turf. Nature’s sno-cones.
And on the forth day they breasted a small hill and came face to face with Hadrian’s Wall and the remains of the fort of Cunwarden.
The marine grinned.
‘What?’
Asked Tad.
‘Been here before said Nathaniel as they rode up to the wall. He dismounted and started to climb to the top of the wall that stood about ten feet high.
‘Oh, a long time ago,’ said the marine. ‘Not exactly sure when but, at a guess, I’d say, oh, one thousand eight hundred years ago. Give or take a hundred.’
The marine stood up on the top of the wall and Tad climbed up next to him.
‘See there,’ said Nathaniel as he pointed at a hill opposite. ‘We charged the Romans from up there. Swept down on them and met there,’ he pointed again. ‘Used cavalry to break their formations and then slaughtered them to the man. Had a feast afterward. Met a girl.’
Tad stared, open eyed at the marine. ‘Just how old are you?’ He asked.
‘I’m only twenty eight years old,’ replied Nathaniel. ‘But, at the same time, I think that I have been around, like, forever. You see,’ said the marine.
‘I am The Forever Man.’
And his voice echoed back from the hills and valleys, reverberating and multiplying, until it sounded as if the very land itself was shouting his name.
The Forever Man had come home.
Hi there – I hope that you enjoyed this episode of The Forever Man. If you did, please could you give a review on Amazon…if you didn’t then please feel free to email me at my personal email [email protected] and tell me off!
The next in the series is…
The Forever Man
Book 3: Clan War
Another way home
© 2013, Author Craig Zerf/C. Marten-Zerf
Small Dog Publishing Limited
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Once again this one was for Polly & Axel…ultimately – they all are.