We drove mostly in silence for a while, the bot giving a redirect every once in a while and when we finally cleared the storm, we all breathed a bit easier, both figuratively and literally.
Blossom seemed to rouse a bit once the skies had cleared and after swallowing a water tablet, she started asking a barrage of questions. I guess the storm affected her small body more than the rest of us. I was also starting to believe that she had some internal setting to use a requisite amount of words each day, and as she’d been fairly quiet last night, was making up for it now. After dissecting the events of the previous evening and throwing in some random, disjointed comments in a 17 minute stream of conscious diatribe, she got down to business.
“Okay, like, what are we going to do when we get to the coast? And do you think we lost the Sand Walkers? Are the drones still trying to follow us? What are we going to do about lunch, just eat in the car? What if Pipkin’s battery runs out? Do you have any music files?” I assumed that the last question was directed at the RAB-bot and not at me. I tried not to laugh when I caught Cedar rolling her eyes skyward and pressing her lips together in martyred resignation. I did my best to answer and in as few words as possible.
“Don’t know. Not sure. Probably. Yes, eat in the car. No clue, and I’ll leave the last question for the rabbit, maybe he can answer the battery question, too. Did I miss anything?” Blossom giggled, but shook her head negatively.
“My battery has a shelf life of approximately 976 years, assuming I have access to either sun or wind. I am searching my files for ‘music’.” The soft whir went on for about a minute. “Ah, yes, music; the pleasant ordering of sounds, often accompanied by voice creating harmonious tones in succession or combination.” With another whir, Pipkin blipped and the wireless interface light went on in the dash next to a radio that had only made static up to that point.
Whatever it was, it started out faintly, I could just catch wisps of sound coming from the speakers and it built slowly. I was horrible with instruments, but it sounded like some sort of wind instrument with drums in the background. Section by section the orchestra built the song until the car was filled with sound. I’d never heard anything like it before. It’s not like we didn’t have music, but digitally reproduced instruments just weren’t the same. That’s why I treasured my copy of a live Grateful Dead concert. Well, that was until the ex smashed it to pieces in a temper.
The music slithered and twined itself around us, somehow playful and sensuous at the same time and when I looked over at Cedar, I was glad to see that the pinched look she had been wearing was gone, replaced by a reluctant wonder. As the sound finally faded, we were all left rather speechless, even Blossom, who had yet to make a dent in her daily word requirement. There was a little beep and a digital voice stated “Ravel - Bolero”.
“Play another one!” urged the girl, “Maybe something snappier.” Pipkin nodded and kept us entertained for the few hours before lunch with music from the Beatles, Kid Rock, Great Big Sea, Janis Joplin and others. We could only agree on the fact that we all weren’t big fans of the music style called Country. I secretly didn’t mind it, at least some of it, but everyone else thought it was too depressing, so I kept my mouth shut. The jury was out on something called opera and none of us were disappointed that Pip had no modern music. The flat digital sound lacked something that lived in earlier music. I had to swallow a few times when Pipkin finally dug up a Deadhead song.
We ate as we continued making as much distance between us and the factory as possible. I didn’t want another run in with the Sand Walkers and I also wanted to get as far away from our last drone sighting as possible. I couldn’t believe that we’d come so close to being caught, only to come across a bunch crazed survivalists. I felt like I was in some far fetched science fiction movie, but it was real; a fact that I kept repeating to myself. I wondered when I’d feel safe again and I realized that the answer was probably never. At least not that blissfully naïve sense of security that I’d lulled myself in to in my old life.
Based on Pipkin’s sensors, we’d made good time across the dunes, but were still depressingly far from our next destination. His data files told him that the trip used to be done in a couple of days, but now that the roads were buried under sand the going took longer. This wasn’t our only bad news. Cedar thought we were still in Sand Walker territory. Her adoptive family had warned her away from the stretches of land east of Montreal, as they were a known strong hold for the survivalists. I hoped they didn’t have a way to communicate or our presence would be announced before we even entered another camp’s territory.
The only thing that could be worse would be to see a drone in the distance, and I tried not to check the rear view obsessively. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were still being tracked by whoever was after Jake. It didn’t do good things for my mood.
We decided to make camp when we found a structurally sound under pass. It wasn’t the best cover, but if we could be seen from a distance, we could also see what was coming for us. Jake played Reg’s file for Pipkin and then we went through our trove of goodies. The RAB-bot was particularly interested in the HAM radio. He talked us through the set up and started scanning the dials for activity. After an hour or so of static, the air waves cleared and we picked up an audible transmission and the news wasn’t good.
“Camp Creation to Camp Black Eagle, over.” We all froze as we heard a recognizably human voice crackle over the radio’s speakers. The call was repeated a second time.
“This is Camp Black Eagle, over”
“Outcasts sighted. Heading south east with candy, over.”
“Count?”
“Two breeders, two waste waters and light show, proceed with caution, over.”
“Roger, Camp Black Eagle out, over.”
“Camp Creation, out.”
Then there was only static. A horrible sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach as we all shared glances of confusion mingle with undefined dread.
“What the hell does all that mean?” asked Jake, as he flicked his hair out of his face and pulling it back down repeatedly, a sure sign of his agitation.
“Yeah, what’s candy and all that other stuff mean?” added Blossom huddling close to Jake and reaching out for Cedar’s hand. Cedar ducked her head, trying to hide her stricken look.
“Nothing good, that’s for sure,” she muttered. Taking a breath, she looked me in the eye and flicked her head indicating that we needed a private conference. “Pip, watch the kids and the vehicle, will you?” The little bot saluted with an ear in response and hovered protectively overhead as we moved a distance away to talk privately. Both kids looked after us with knitted brows and crossed arms.
“Okay, so I get the two breeders part, but the rest is a mystery,” I said, wanting Cedar to know that I understood the implication for both she and Blossom.
“Waste waters are guys, you only need so many to ensure the survival of the species, but it’s dangerous to have too much testosterone in a compound. It creates too much competition.” She looked to see if I registered what she’d said and I gave her a nod. As much as I hated to think that I could be described as a waste of water, I definitely got the point. “Candy must be something they want. Could be us or the car or both, but they know we have some sort of weapon. That’s what the light show was about. They obviously don’t think that Pipkin’s too much of a threat or they’d just let us pass. We don’t really have anything to fight them with except the bot and your gun. How much ammo do you have for it?”
“The clip holds ten, and there was one in the chamber, but that’s what Jake shot off when we,” I paused, trying to find a delicate way to describe taking her prisoner, “when we met.” She waved her hand indicating that that was in the past and somehow conveying that we had bigger things to worry about. “Why didn’t you mention the Sand Walkers before?” I must have sounded more accusatory than I’d meant as she snapped her head up and glared at me. “Sorry, it’s just that you kne
w they were out here, somewhere…” my voice faded, realising that I was digging myself a pretty big hole. She pressed her lips together tightly, a gesture I was getting way too familiar with. I didn’t think she would answer me and was surprised by her sigh of resignation.
“I didn’t think they’d be this far south. From everything I’d heard, they stayed farther north, where there’s more chance of water and a safer distance from the cities.” She shrugged and then uncharacteristically clasped her hands together in a helpless gesture. I didn’t stop to think and placed my own hands over hers, giving them a gentle squeeze of reassurance.
“We’ll leave before dawn and maybe head north a little, maybe that will throw them off, since they’re expecting us to head south. They don’t know that we have access to a radio, so we have a bit of an advantage instead of just stumbling in to a trap unaware, right?” I wasn’t sure whether I was trying to convince myself or her, but she favoured me with a brief smile before she untangled her hands from mine.
“Yeah, I guess that will have to do for now. At least the rabbit has no qualms about using its weaponry. We can only hope that that’s enough.” She paused, drew in a breath and squared her shoulders, all signs of worry erased in that one motion. “Let’s go, we have to tell to the kids.”
In that moment I felt an admiration so strong that it almost overwhelmed me. Despite everything, she did the hard thing, right away; no excuses. Unconsciously I did as she had; straightened my frame, took a breath and headed over to talk to Jake and Blossom the about the real danger we were in.
The kids took it more stoically than I thought, though Blossom’s cheeks were pink with indignation at being considered a “breeder”. It was a stressful conversation, talking about the precautions we needed to take; sticking together, never being alone and all that. To comfort ourselves we went painstakingly through the weapons provided in the cache, but most were meant for drones and other high tech equipment. There was very little to stave off a horde of procreation minded survivalists, eager for new breeding stock. We had Pipkin scan his files for options and he had a reassuring amount of programs on various defensive manoeuvres and evasive techniques. He also assured us that his lasers and other weaponry were fully operational and he was more than ready to use it. The Sand Walkers were a threat to him as well. They would stop at nothing to acquire his weapons and tech, so he was as eager to avoid them as we were. Needless to say, I passed another restless night, just praying for the comfort daylight; again.
Chapter 15 – Duck and Cover
We made an early start of it, not wanting to waste time and still needing to put distance between us and the Sand Walkers. We’d debated travelling by night, but knew that the survivalists were specially geared to track things in the dark. Cedar guessed that they were trying to avoid the drones that usually took to the skies while the sun was up, but it was only a theory. We were all pretty quiet, afraid to say the words that were rattling around in our heads. I’d seen drones in the rear view mirror and the bot had picked up several during his scans. They were definitely looking for something, using a cross hatch search pattern that made it obvious. I told myself that they were looking for the black triad drone, but the thought didn’t sit right in my gut.
“My diversion tactics recommend finding shelter and taking refuge for a number of days. It is unlikely that the Sand Walkers have tracked us this far, as they are on foot and they run the risk of increased discovery with the additional UAVs.” His ear twitched in an endearing sort of way, but I could tell that he was actually running scans.
“That’s just great, but where is there to hide?” I knew my voice grated with frustration and I couldn’t help an unpleasant grimace, but I was exhausted and scared. Scanning the horizon didn’t give much hope as we seemed to be in a desolate nothingness, inhabited only by sand, wind and sun.
“According to my databases, we are three hours away from a cave called Trou de Diable. It is, unfortunately on the other side of the river bed.” He cocked an ear in the direction he wanted us to head and ignored my groan. “It is unlikely that the Sand Walkers have taken possession of the cave as there are no written records of Sand Walkers on the other side of the river for the past 300 years.” I wanted to ask him how he knew that and if he could promise that none of the creeps were lurking around, just waiting to grab the women. The word “breeders” flashed through my head and I must have growled again, unwittingly.
“Hey,” interrupted Cedar, “why don’t I drive for a while? You’re almost asleep at the wheel and your personality isn’t improving at all.” I shot her a glare, which only proved her point.
“Fine,” I said, pressing the brake. We’d been slogging through heavy sand, so it only took a second to come to a stop. She hopped out of the passenger side and I clambered over the parking brake, clipping myself on the handle. I let out a high pitched groan and grasped my crotch, carefully curling myself in her vacated seat. I pulled my knees as close to my chest as I could, trying to ease the throbbing in my right testicle. The giggle from the back seat only made me snarl, more of a high pitched wheeze really, and Cedar gave me a sympathetic look and wisely refrained from saying anything. As the pain ebbed, I slowly lowered my knees down and stretched my legs out. I was still uncomfortable, with my knees touching the dashboard, when I remembered a diagram of the seats from the car manual. I reached down and activated the lever and the seat slid back another 30 centimetres or so. There was a small squawk from the backseat as I tilted my chair back, almost putting my head on Blossom’s lap. She indignantly pulled her legs out from under my seat and stretched them across the bench towards Jake. She crossed her arms and glared down at me with a small frown, but I could have cared less. I closed my eyes and let the motion of the car rock me to sleep.
Crossing the dry river bed must have been fairly easy, as Cedar didn’t wake me until we’d reached the cave. The rocky entrance was liberally levelled out with sand, making it relatively easy to drive in with the car, but out of the sunlight, the darkness quickly swallowed us and we flicked on the lights on top of the car. Our improved vision didn’t instil us with any confidence. The cave seemed to go on endlessly and the rough surfaces looked more than uncomfortable; inhospitable came to mind. It certainly didn’t seem like a place we’d want to stay overly long.
The back of the cave started dropping down and narrowing, but we could at least drive the car far enough in for it to be obscured by the obsidian darkness and with a little effort we could camouflage the entrance by moving some of the loose rock, strewn near the entrance.
The first order of business was to erase any trace of tracks that might give us away. The wind was already helping as we used empty laundry bags to wipe away the car tracks and our foot prints, but the grit flayed at any exposed skin all the while. The minor irritation was the least of my worries. I didn’t know if there was enough granite between us and the drones to disguise our heat signatures, but enough radiant heat to still keep us warm. There was a decided nip to the air of the cave and I wondered if, once night came, it would get even colder.
Cedar started getting the tent set up, with Jake helping to connect the high density composite poles and threading them through the material until the huge structure stood behind the car, almost touching the roof of the cavern. Inside there was plenty of space to set up our impromptu sleeping bags and still have room to move around and have a sort of informal living area. I took a look at my bed, sighed, and then ducked back through the opening, closing the flap behind me.
Cedar and I worked at arranging our stash of food and the seed library somewhere hard to find, just in case we had been followed. Jake and Blossom made their way towards the back of the cave, light sticks slowly disappearing down the crest of the slope.
“Not too far, now, you don’t know what’s down there!” My voice echoed down the passage, the lilt increasing with each reverberation until I didn’t recognize the words and could only make out the ringing. It was quickly followed by the sound of
laughter that sounded less tinny as it bounced back up towards us. That was the thanks I got for worrying. My snort of rebuke sent Pipkin in to the air and following Jake and Blossom in to the back of the cave. I gave him a nod of gratitude as he whizzed past my head. I wondered if I was on the verge of becoming a grumpy old bastard, but let the thought go with a shake of my head.
While everyone else explored the cave, I made an effort to conceal the entry. It was physically demanding, but mindless work and I was amazed at how good my muscles felt as they manipulated, lifted and pushed the heavy rocks in to place. I had to use Betsy to move some of the larger stones, but by the time I was done, no one would have imagined that the cave could hold more than a person or two at best. I rubbed my arms, massaging out the satisfying ache and was surprised to feel hard muscle developing under the layer of skin. If I kept this up, I might be in danger of getting in to shape. I smiled at the thought and realized how good it felt. It had been a while since I’d been happy and I took a moment to enjoy the sensation. The irony wasn’t lost on me, either. Here I was in some God forsaken cave in the middle of the Bee Zee, schlepping what could be the last remnants of edible vegetation on the entire planet to an unknown destination with who knows what or whom after me and a small tribe of people to take care of and yet, I was happy. I had a purpose and someone actually needed me.
As the light faded and the cave fell in to complete darkness we huddled around a lamp that held three light sticks and talked about what to do next.
“We could probably stay here a while,” suggested Jake. “The cave goes on for a long time, but I can’t see any other access. It seems like a pretty good place to hide.”
Last Farmer: Last Farmer Series - Book 1 Page 14