What Comes After (Book 1): A Shepherd Cometh

by Peter Carrier

  After he found a piece of ground to call his own for the night, he continued. “Seeing as how your sister's already asleep, we'll have her take the mid watch. She should be rested enough to remain alert and she'll probably appreciate getting a few extra winks before we head out in the morning. So, which would you like?”

  Toby raised an eyebrow skeptically. “What do you mean, 'which would I like'?”

  It was Tom's turn to raise an eyebrow. “Watch. Which watch would you like?”

  When Toby didn't respond after a few seconds, Tom asked, “You know what a watch is? Right?”

  The other young man's face shown with indignation. “Man, who do you think I am? I was a soldier before you came along. 'Course I know what a god damn watch is. Who does this fool think he's talking to? Psh.” Toby shook his head. “Which watch do I want. Man. Some people.”

  Tom let a full minute pass before replying. “Toby?” He waited for Toby to look at him, still bristling with anger. “You haven't answered the question. Are you staying up late or getting up early?”

  Toby glowered at Tom before replying. “What if I don't care which one I get? What do you say to that?”

  Tom sighed. I shouldn't be surprised, he thought. Everywhere there's plenty, even if only for a while, people become more concerned about themselves than working together. Been some time since I've seen it this pronounced. To the other young man, he said, “I'll take the last one. Kind of an early riser, anyway.”

  With that settled, Tom took his collapsible shovel from it's loop on the outside of his pack. He was crossing to a sizable buttonbush shrub when Toby called out around a mouthful of carrot.

  “Hey, hold up. Where you going?”

  Tom blinked. “To dig us a toilet.”

  When Toby only stared blankly in response, Tom went behind the bush and did just that.

  The remainder of the daylight passed uneventfully. Tom cleaned his sidearm and stowed the spent brass for reloading or trading. Then he helped Ben find a spot to sleep on and arrange his blankets accordingly. The boy wanted nothing in the way of conversation and Tom obliged him. Toby fussed with his own blankets but declined assistance, though it was clear he was unfamiliar with making a bed on the ground. Shortly before the sun set, the Shepherd took out more carrots and cucumbers for their evening meal. He left himself more time than usual for his daily prayers. In light of all that had happened in the last two and half days, he had much to consider and seek guidance about.

  3.11

  The bowl of the sky was dark. In it, pinpricks of silver glimmered above a bar of orange and purple rapidly shrinking in the west. The Shepherd had completed his ritual prayers and roused himself from his meditation. As the night air settled on his face like a cool veil, Tom listened to the forest deepen into its evening hush. The creatures that called this place home were taking refuge against the coming night and all the dangers and wonders it brought.

  He watched his companions as long as the light permitted, noting how they one and all lay quiet and still. Ben was huddled close to the tree where Tom had set his own bed, sleeping with soundness wrought of exhaustion both physical and emotional. Toby lay curled at the base of the tree near his sister, who had yet to move from where she had begun her slumber hours earlier. She'll be sore in the morning, Tom thought.

  He gave Toby another five hundred count before leaning close and used his sheathed kukri to poke the sole of the other young man's boot. To his credit, Toby woke quickly and reached for his rifle.

  “What?” He hissed, speech still slurred by sleep.

  “Your watch,” Tom said. The Shepherd leaned back, resting his head against the pillow he had made of his pack and coat.

  “Yeah, yeah, I'm on it.” There was a rustling as Toby stood, then intermittent crackling and popping as he moved away.

  Tom lay awake for a long while. His mind was still active, searching for meaning in the events of the last few days. He wondered what would happen when they reached the firehouse. He also had doubts about Toby's ability to stand watch. His concern was not limited to questioning Toby's stamina, but also his ability to remain alert and aware for the duration of his shift. Knowing he could manage with a bit less sleep, Tom indulged his concern. He listened to the other young man move about and mutter to himself. When he guessed an hour had passed and Toby was still moving around, the Shepherd was satisfied their guard was as ready as could be for whatever might find them during the night.

  He drifted off quickly after that, waking only once and briefly when Toby and his sister switched places. When he woke after that, it was at Jannesa's insistence. His eyes snapped open and he tensed momentarily, ready to spring into action before he recognized the silhouette crouching over him.

  “Your turn,” she whispered.

  Tom nodded and rubbed his eyes before opening his sleeping bag and rolling out of it. Clipping his belt around his waist and picking up his M14, he moved to the other side of the nearby tree. From here, he could watch both his companions and the slope on which they slumbered. He was only minutes into his watch when he noticed Janessa had not returned to her paltry bedroll. In fact, she had yet to move from where she had woken him.

  “Can't get back to sleep?” He asked quietly, not wanting to wake the others or draw the attention of the forest's night hunters.

  She replied just as quietly. “Since the kids were out, figured you might tell me what the plan is.”

  Tom turned his attention to Toby and Ben. Where Janessa's brother slept fitfully, Ben was just as still as when he'd first lay down. It was almost as though the boy were trying to show the other young man how this sleep-thing was done, and that notion brought a smile to Tom's lips. Looking back into the darkness around their camp, he resumed their quiet conversation. “He always like that?”

  Janessa took her own look back at her brother. After a moment, she answered Tom's question. “Sometimes. It's worse outside.” She made a sound like laughter. “Kinda surprised he's sleeping at all. Must've been pretty worn out from all that running.”

  “Is it the dark? The forest? Just being outdoors? There's no shame in any of it. If we're going to be sharing the road for any length of time, though... we should probably know those sorts of things.”

  The young woman took a moment before responding. “The dark, mostly. It happened at night, where we were.” She paused again. “Feels like so long ago. Too long for that to still bother a person.”

  It was Tom's turn to wait before continuing. “Be that as it may, seems like something we'll need to work around. Thanks for telling me. Anything I should know about you?”

  Her reply was quick. Not immediate, but too fast to have been given real consideration. “No,” was all she said.

  “Fair enough,” the Shepherd said in an even tone.

  There was a lull in the conversation. The two of them waited, listening to the quiet hush of the pine boughs and the creek of soft wood swaying gently. Time passed, neither willing to continue their conversation at the expense of the other. When the cold of early morning began it's slow creep into their bones, Janessa broke the silence.

  “Did you mean what you said, earlier? About us sharing the road for a while?” Her voice carried a veiled note of hope.

  Tom nodded, though the young woman couldn't see the movement. It was more for himself, anyway. “I did. Someone much wiser than myself told me I should say what I mean and mean what I say. The real question is, will you and your brother be willing to share it with me?”

  The confusion in her voice was to be expected. “What do you mean? Of course-”

  “Pardon my interruption, ma'am. Before you agree to anything, there are a few things you should know. First, you're not the only one that would be coming. Ben will be on that path, at least until we can get him back to his people. If he has any people to return to.” Here, the young man waited for acknowledgment.

  “Figured as much,” Janessa said. When he didn't continue, she was more clear. “I can agree with that.�
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  “Good,” Tom said. “You probably won't like the next two.”

  “Why's that?” She asked.

  “Well, I do things differently. If you're traveling with me, that means you'll be doing things differently, as well. In fact, it might be fair to say your entire way of life would change. For example, viewing people as friend or foe, not food. Helping those you find, whether you have the means on hand or not. Oftentimes, you'll have only yourself to rely on for the bare necessities. Out here, you're always on the move. It's hard and can be lonely, but it's full of promise.” Tom took a breath. “I know it's hard to imagine a different way of life, but can you honestly tell me you thought you'd be living how you were when I found you? I don't think so. Just like it took you time to reconcile yourself to the way of life you just left, it'll take a while to get used to a new way one. But you did it before. I think you have it in you to do it again.” Here he paused, giving her a chance to mull over what he'd said.

  After a bit of thought, Janessa prompted him to continue. “That only sounded like some of it. What's the rest?”

  He told her. “You're not your brothers keeper. You're going to have your own hands full for the time being. While we're together, we'll share the load, but it's on each of us to pull our own weight. I don't know how it was with your previous group, but I get the feeling Toby is used to light work. That won't be the case if you two are traveling with Ben and I.”

  “What about earlier today? When you told him my safety depended on him doing what he was told and staying real close to you?” Janessa offered an observation. “He didn't stay that close the whole time, either. You know it, too. I saw the way you looked at him when we stopped at the stream.”

  “It was a test.” A pause. “He passed, by the way.”

  “A test?” She sounded surprised and angry. “That's... wow. You're something else.”

  The Shepherd agreed with her, though he kept it to himself. Taking two cannibals under my wing with the intent to see them reformed and become contributing members of society? Damn right I'm something else. He took a breath to push that thought aside and broke the quiet between them with more low-voiced words. “To revisit the beginning of the conversation, the plan is this: find the fire station and hopefully get Ben to safety. After that, we figure out how we're handling winter. In between, we find some people to help and make sure we stay on this side of the dirt in the process. How does that strike you?”

  After a long pause, Tom spoke. “I'll take your silence as tacit agreement.”

  3.12

  It was late in the day when they reached the fire station. The sun was beginning its quick sink into the west, covering the red brick of the old building with a faded orange glow. Tall grass surrounded the structure and looked like waves of swaying fire, lapping against the building's base. Intact windows were rectangles of golden light, reflecting the dying rays of the sun. Having made a check of the perimeter, it seemed abandon and lacking in possible threat. It was clear to Tom that someone had been through the area recently, however. Thus, he saw no harm in waiting a while to see if that person or creature returned. So they waited in the drawn shadows of late afternoon, behind a sizable pine tree and shrub of choke cherries.

  Long minutes passed before the Shepherd deemed it time to move. He heard Ben shifting restlessly and Toby muttering to his sister. With every sound he heard his companions make, he restarted the sixty count. They'll figure it out eventually, he thought. They need to remember patience plays an important a role in success and survival, just like quick, decisive action. It took a while, though: the sun had been swallowed by the hills before the three of them were still and silent for a full minute. Finally he turned to the others and spoke in a quiet, authoritative tone.

  “We're going in through the personnel door on the north side. I'll be in front, Toby will follow me. Ben is behind him and Janessa is bringing up the rear. We'll be clearing the building before we do anything else inside. Have you two done that before?” This last he asked indicating the brother and sister.

  Toby snorted and seemed ready to say something equally derisive before his sister rapped him on the back of the head. To the Shepherd, she said, “Yeah. Pay attention, talk to each other, stop at doorways. Anything you do differently?”

  Tom nodded. “Hug the walls, if possible.” He looked at the others, then shook his head. “Plenty more, but we have no practice working together. So this time, we'll pay attention, talk to each other and stop at doorways.” And hope there's no one waiting for us, he added to himself. “Ready?”

  “Ready.” Janessa said.

  “Let's do this,” came from Toby. Ben said nothing, only nodded.

  With that, the four of them emerged from their cover and quickly crossed the small swath of grass. Two dozen swift strides carried them to the building proper. Tom paused only long enough to ensure his companions were all with him before sliding to the door and slowly turning the hooked metal handle. It stuck briefly, but was coaxed to move with a bit more pressure. The door cracked with a soft 'pop' and Tom swung it toward the far wall, where it stopped with a creaking bang. The portal opened, he raised his rifle and entered the hallway beyond.

  The station was mostly as Tom had expected. Sacked long ago, the small offices had no doubt been re-arranged a number of times since the End. With only one exception, the vehicle bays were empty of trucks, engines or tools. It was clear the bays had been used for living space at some point, as bedding and clothing were littered throughout. While the fabric was old, closer inspection revealed signs of more recent habitation and the smell of people lingered in the concrete and brick chamber.

  Behind a box near the door to the offices lay a small trove of goods. A nearly full lantern, a backpack with an empty canteen, and a coil of sturdy nylon rope. There were also a serviceable pair of boots. It was the sort of small, pseudo-stash that made Tom wonder. Someone not putting all their eggs in one basket, or did some unfortunate soul begin making a cache proper and meet an untimely demise before they could complete it?

  While it was obvious the place had been used as a shelter, there was no mistaking that it was presently unoccupied. Equally obvious was the affect this had on Ben. When they entered the station's last room, the boy wasted no time in searching for sign of Caleb. He raced to the fire engine and climbed the runners to search the cab, then dropped to the concrete floor and glanced beneath the truck. Before the others had finished clearing the area, he began to tear through the boxes and piles of fabric around the large room. The boy said nothing and didn't need to. His actions grew more and more frantic until he arrived at a pile of blankets strewn haphazardly behind the remaining fire engine.

  Tom watched the boy shred fabric with the same single-minded dedication the Turned displayed in pursuit of their prey. To those beasts, it mattered not if their fingers were scratched and bruised and torn in the process of pulling down their quarry. They seemed unmoved when they split their lips while rapidly shoveling meat into their gullet. Injury in pursuit of their meal seemed something they not only accepted, but perhaps even cherished. A primal understanding that no joy, however trivial, comes without pain. So the Shepherd watched the boy as he drew closer and closer to the bottom of the pile, shredded fabric flung to and fro while Ben searched for emotional sustenance it seemed he would go without.

  “I'm here, Caleb. I made it. Where are you?” The warbling tremor in his voice stirred Tom to action, but Janessa was closer. It was she who went to him, who ceased the scrabbling of his hands on the concrete, who went down on her knees beside him and held him close. He did not wail, but he wept and shook in her arms.

  “Let's take another look 'round outside,” Tom called softly to Toby, who was already moving to the door.

  The young men were no more than ten feet into the hallway that divided up the small offices when the lambasting began. In a mockery of Tom's voice and cadence, Toby said, “'Let's take another look 'round outside.'” He shook his head while they contin
ued walking. “Not the sensitive type.”

  Tom held his temper in check. “Didn't see you doing things differently. What should I have done?”

  The Shepherd went through the door outside. He glanced about, checking the small open yard and trees beyond. Had he been less frustrated with himself and less intent on Toby's response to his question, he might have seen the shadow slipping from the bushes before he turned back to Janessa's brother. As it was, he only learned there was something amiss when Toby emerged from the hall.

  “Little man needed some privacy. Ya did right, but you don't need to make no excuse. Ya just do-” Toby stopped, eyes wide and mouth open. He stood frozen that way for a second before raising his rifle. This action, more than the shock, prompted Tom to turn around. Before he could complete the turn, a voice from the past called out to him, low and deep and familiar.

  “Easy, fellas. Mean you no harm.”

  A few yards away stood a rugged man in his early fifties. He was dressed in a mix of patched cloth and hand-worked skins and hides, with an oversized pack on his back. The bill on the man's ancient cap cast a shadow on the face beneath it, but could not hide the scars around his right eye. Not from Tom, who spent many a year under that watchful orb. He had learned to shoot with the .30-06 slung over the man's shoulder and had skinned his first rabbit with the knife hanging from the man's belt. Seeing it with his own eyes, Tom could still scarcely believe who he saw.

  “Chris?” He said in disbelief. “Is that really you?”

  The man continued his approach, arms outstretched and hands open. He smiled, a gentle up sweep of thin, leathery lips. Nodding, he said, “Yes, Tom, it's me.” He stopped just shy of arm's reach of the young men, arms still wide. “Been awhile, hasn't it?”