Earth's Survivors: box set

by Wendell Sweet

  The blood, dark stains on the cracked pavement crawling with ants, and one hand sitting off to the side like a toy tossed away by an angry child. Pink sparkles on the fingernails caught the early morning light and threw it back. Conner pushed his foot down a little harder on the accelerator and turned his attention back to the scenery that was passing the windows.

  The roads were deteriorating quickly. The heat, the humidity, but most of all no maintenance. In places, the only way you knew where the road was, was the break in the trees. The straight lines that nature never made. Conner imagined that in a few years even those would be gone, at least to the normal eye. Maybe in a few thousand years or so someone would do a fly over and remark on how, although you can't see it from the ground, there was once a huge road system that covered the continent. The ancient civilization had, had a road system.

  He had seen something like that in a documentary once. Roads, ruins, they all left their marks, at least for a few thousand years. Maybe longer if the stuff they had been seeing on Mars were truly indications of past life. It just stayed there, undiscovered, until the next race of people came along that was curious enough to look, or advanced enough to look. Maybe that was the world. Just recycling from civilization to civilization. A few thousand years flow by and it all starts up again. Like wiping the playing field even again. He wondered what would emerge victorious this time.

  “Hey... You okay,” Aaron asked.

  “Yeah, I was...” He shook his head and smiled sadly. “You okay,” he asked.

  Aaron frowned, but followed it with a small smile. “Pretty much... I just want to get home and see Amy... Let it all go.”

  Conner nodded. “Me too, Aaron. They can keep all of this. I mean we really do have it together back there. We have something real going on. When have you heard of a society where everyone really is equal?”

  “Nowhere,” Aaron said. “At least not in our history as a people.”

  “You know my great-grandmother was full blooded Blackfoot. Lived in a mining camp in Canada, up high in the mountains there somewhere. Only one way for an Indian woman on her own to live back then, and so she did. Had more than a dozen kids by different men.” Conner shrugged and watched the roadway go past. He let up on the gas pedal, the road surface really was unpredictable. Better safe than sorry.

  “The last three kids were by a black man... An escaped slave that had made his way there... To be free, I suppose. I don't know whether they just got along, or they understood each other, maybe loved each other, but they stayed together for a long while... A very long while... Then he died.”

  “She was alone for a period... Don't know how she survived. She never told anyone, anyway. Then one day along comes this German-Irish miner. He marries her and brings her to America. At the border he claims all the kids as his own.”

  “Didn't go far to settle, right to Watertown. My grandfather passed for a white man all of his life... I met him, he was dark, but he lived as a white man. None of the other kids, at least in my generation, had even met my Great-Grandmother and Grandfather. I was it, and I only got to meet them because I was the oldest. They were old and used up by life then. My Great-Grandmother had no English, or if she did the few times I met her I never heard it. Maybe that made an even stronger impression on me. I remembered them. Still do.”

  “A few years back one of my sister's kids hurt himself and ended up having surgery, after that they had a little surprise. The blood work showed certain traits, he had some scaring that was unusual. The family was shocked. Maybe past shocked, but not me. I went out and saw my Grandpa just before he died. He told me all of it. We had a really long talk.. He wished he could go back. Live real, who he really was, I mean, and he was ashamed he hadn't, but there's so much hate in the world. Look at the way it is.”

  “I didn't look down on him for it. I never walked in his shoes, but I saw the way the world could be, same as we all do. This crap back there... That's hate too. A different kind, but it's still hate. Look at the shit we do to each other, Aaron.”

  Aaron nodded his head and then turned from studying the road.

  “We're so lucky to have what we have, and, for real, I'm not coming back out here,” Conner continued. “I have Katie. I have you, Amy. I'm even starting to get along good with Jake. I respect the hell out of James and the stuff he has in his head,” he paused and watched the road.

  “Yeah. I don't know how he knows so much, but we're lucky to have him... And Dustin... Kid's a frickin' genius,” Aaron said.

  “Yeah, but look at you. Look at what you've taught David, and Amy too. No way would we have built all that we have without you. Not shining you on, just being real. It's like we have so many talented people, and they're all so open minded. And it works... Is working... Makes me wonder if it could have worked this good in the old world if we had just tried.”

  “Thought the same thing,” Aaron said. “You know, I don't talk much, you and Amy. Katie... Other than that...” He shrugged. “But I pay attention. Skin color? Always matters. Nowhere in my life in the old world was there a place where it didn't matter. With my own people, family, it was pride. Wear your skin with pride... To most white men? It meant inferior. It just did. Maybe it was better hidden than it was in the old days... My father's days, but it was there just the same. And I'm not trying to make it one way. I would find myself looking at a white man and judging him in a certain way. It's the way hate keeps growing.”

  “Where I am now? Color really doesn't matter. It isn't an issue. I don't mean that it's not an issue on the surface, it's just not an issue at all. I know. I don't talk much, but I watch everything. I pay attention. All the shit's gone, Conner. And we can make it gone for good. We don't have to let it back in. Those other guys? The military guys?”

  Conner nodded.

  “First time in months that I felt someone looking at me as though I was inferior,” Aaron said.

  “Yeah. Me too. They were not coming to our world, Aaron. No way,” Conner said. “No way at all.”

  “I knew that too, Conner. I know you. I knew as soon as they opened their mouths and started spouting that shit, that they were done. Like Adam the other day... I like him... But that isolating shit... That division had to get nipped in the bud, because if he stayed that way I wouldn't be able to like him.”

  “I like him... I thought at first you jumped a little hard, but then he pretty much admitted it... Can't second guess yourself. You called it... It was what it was, and he put it away.” Conner shrugged. “Let's hope he really put it away... It seems like he did.”

  “I think he did,” Aaron said. “I think he was afraid... Big guy like that... Gets afraid same as we do, same as anybody.”

  “You get afraid,” Conner asked.

  “Asshole,” Aaron laughed. “Listen, I'm with you, Conner: Once I'm back I can't see a reason to come back out here. I can't see anything that could bring me back. They say, never say never, but... I'm saying I can't see it, ever,” Aaron finished.

  “Well, hey, listen I wanted to say... ... I'm sorry about the baby... I know that hurt you... But I couldn't let you fall down too... Amy... The baby the two of you have...” He trailed off.

  “Negative perspiration... It's all good.” He sighed. “I just don't get it, and I was going there and you grabbed me... That's what a friend does. Same with Chloe. She was going there too, and that girl's been through too much. Way too much,” Aaron said. “Anyway, I appreciate the reality check.”

  Conner nodded. “I don't think any of us will get it,” he said after a moments thought. They drove along in comfortable silence, following what was left of the road.

  Harrisburg PA

  September 22nd

  The fires burned low around the small open area. The six of them sat quietly watching the stars come out.

  Mike shifted and Candace curled into his side, head on his chest, eyes closed.

  “Okay?” Mike asked.

  “Um hm,” she agreed. “Just tired.”r />
  They had met Cathy Cross on their way out of Tremont, just before they had made it back to I 81. She had been on foot, walking the tree line, heading vaguely south. She had heard them coming, she had told them, and ducked into the woods. Something, maybe the sight of what appeared to be two women traveling alone, had made her come back out and fire her gun into the air to get their attention. The gun had nearly made Candace drive on. Her initial impulse had caused her foot to ram the gas down, but a split second later Alice had spotted Cathy where she stood just outside the treeline and got her to stop the van.

  Candace had stepped outside the van, machine pistol ready, willing to waste the precious few bullets she had left if she had to.

  “You're not weird are you?” Cathy called out. She was maybe a hundred yards away. Nearly lost in the tall grass. Her own rifle was clasped tightly in her hands. Not aimed at Candace and the van, but ready for whatever the van and its occupants might bring.

  “There are four of us... Our men are hurt,” Candace called. She panicked immediately when she realized she had unintentionally told the truth. Just blurted it out, but she fought the panic back.

  “Will you take me?” Cathy had asked.

  “It'll be cramped, but yes,” Candace agreed. “If you don't mind the cramped space... We'll get another truck as soon as we can... Bigger.”

  Nineteen straight hours of driving had bought them into the next morning and a small dealership on the outskirts of Fredricksburg. They had made good time running along the edges of the black topped former highway. Outside of Fredricksburg the highway had once again become congested. They had finally been forced to take to the high grass in the fields more and more to find their way around the traffic. They had found the dealership and pulled right up to the front doors of the showroom just as dawn was breaking.

  They had met John Campbell as they were searching the lot for a suitable truck. They had heard his truck long before they had seen it, but there had still been no chance to hide their own truck to remain unseen by him. They listened as he fought his way around the same obstacles they had, apparently following their tracks they had cut through the soft shoulders and the fields of tall grass. The motor rose in pitch, straining, and then fell back to idle as he once again made the roadway. When he came into view he had seen them about the same time they had seen him and raised one hand in a happy wave. Candace had breathed a sigh of relief.

  With John's help they had liberated two trucks from the dealership lot, gassed them up, and made it to the other side of Fredricksburg and a sporting goods store that had not been completely ransacked. They had stocked up on ammunition, and with Candace leading they had struck out again, once more heading south. Ronnie had come back first, the next morning, Mike had come back later that day. Both a little slow, groggy, but healing.

  Alice leaned forward and shifted the meat that simmered over the fire. Wild turkey. They had met a flock of them pecking their way through a field twenty miles north. She had been able to walk right up to one that only bristled, and threatened her before she shot it. She had felt bad after she had shot it. She had never hunted a day in her life, but a few minutes later Ronnie had been helping her to gut the bird, pluck the feathers, and then they had continued on down the road to where they had set up camp for the night.

  They had backtracked to I 81 after the detour to Fredricksburg and were now just outside of Harrisburg. Harrisburg was off limits. Someone had made and posted signs over the crumpled city limit signs where they had fallen. One word, PLAGUE written in all caps with dripping red paint making it seem even more ominous to them.

  They had backtracked once more to where they now were, looking for a place to both cross what appeared to be a large lake in places, and avoid Harrisburg. They had found no way across what they were sure had been the Susquehanna River, but was now a large inland lake. So far across in places that they could not see the other side. Slow, deep, and carrying all manner of debris. Tree limbs, pieces of houses. Bloated animal carcasses and who knew what else. As night closed in now they could see a red glow on the horizon. What was left of Harrisburg that was not flooded was burning brightly. No doubt a cure for the plague. It had made them all quiet.

  “We'll have to skirt this somehow tomorrow, won't we?” John asked now.

  “I thought about that, but no. I think it makes no sense to go back up along the river, or what we hope will turn back to a river, looking for a place to cross. I don't think there will be any bridges left. All of that stuff had to come down stream... I think any bridges that were there to cross are now gone. No... I think, find a boat, pack our supplies into it and make our way across to the other side,” Mike said thoughtfully.

  “Be dangerous with all that shit floating downstream,” Ronnie said.

  “Very,” Mike agreed. “I Think we do it in daylight. Get ourselves ready... There are places where we can see across. We go slow, carefully get to the other side and get the hell out of the water as fast as we can.”

  “That would work,” Alice agreed.

  “I think so,” Cathy added. “But we'll have to find a boat, right? Will there be a place close by?”

  “There should be,” John said aloud. He seemed to be thinking. A second later he had one of the map's open and spread in his lap. “Where there is water,” he said vaguely.

  “There are boats,” Ronnie finished and smiled. John gave Ronnie a crooked smile which made him blush.

  “We just need to work our way back north along the waters edge. Eventually we'll find a marina or a boat dealership, something,” John finished. He gave Ronnie a look again, seeming to enjoy the way he made him feel uncomfortable. He had already told Alice that she was lucky she had him, he was a beautiful man. Ronnie had wondered over that statement until the facts of the situation had dawned on him. John had simply laughed.

  “That should work,” Mike agreed. He tended to hold his head stiffly. His neck seemed to pinch when he moved it too quickly. The skin was healing and the muscle in his neck was sore. It felt stuck, like part of it had healed improperly, or bonded to something it shouldn't have. He could feel a tearing, pinching feeling when he moved it too far. The plus side was that it was becoming less. So maybe it was just the muscle itself healing. Healing slowly, he told himself as he flexed it carefully and rubbed at the raised ridge of stitching.

  “I think she sewed it to your ear,” Ronnie said and ducked as Candace batted at his head. He chuckled until Alice gave him a shot to the ribs. “Shit. That's not fair, working together.”

  “Sure it is,” Alice disagreed.

  Mike smiled. “I do seem to hear better when I flex my jaw,” he said.

  Candace swatted his arm. “So mean, saved your head, might have had to amputate it too, yet you're so mean.”

  Cathy flexed her jaw. “Hey, me too. Everyone laughed, breaking the tension. A few minutes went by and Mike began to talk once more.

  “So, the boat, make our way across and stock back up, get another truck, continue on our way.”

  “Right,” John agreed. “Unless, well, but you don't want to travel by night.”

  “But what, though?” Candace asked.

  “Well, we're going south and I bet that lake is going south too.”

  “Some,” Ronnie agreed. He had taken the map and was looking it over. “It does go a little south, but it mainly goes East... Back to the east coast... At least the Susquehanna did, so I assume the lake does as well.”

  “Plus the debris,” Alice said

  “Good idea if not for that,” Cathy agreed, “So, back to the boat, get across as fast as we can and get on our way.”

  Mike nodded and one by one the others did. “Okay, so that's decided.” He turned back to the turkey sizzling on spits over the fire and rubbed his hands together. “White or dark,” he asked.

  “Oh, dark,” John said and made eyes at Ronnie. Cathy giggled.

  The Nation

  When the morning came there were three, John, the smaller of the
two men had not made it to see the dawn. The remaining three, Craig, Roberta and Bonnie were holding their own. Sleeping deeply

  Sandy sat outside in the predawn coolness, her back resting against the stone wall they had built to close off the deeper recesses of the caves from the outside. She waited for the sun to lift over the top of the southern mountains.

  All the women were outside with her. Sipping coffee. Talking in quiet tones. Both dogs lay sprawled out on the cool rock, sleeping deeply themselves. The Dog's paws twitched occasionally and he whined. Angels paws twitched right after and she woofed deep in her throat.

  Katie laughed quietly. “It's like they're dreaming the same dream.”

  Amy watched for a few moments and then chuckled. “It is like that, isn't it?”

  “Like they're running through a field somewhere, in some other world, or some other place. The sun is shining, the rabbits are running and the water bowl's always full,” Katie joked.

  “I had an aunt who always said she believed that dreams were real. Just as real as this life. Just a different type of reality... Or the dreams were life and this was a different type of reality... Depending on your point of view,” Amy said.

  “I believe in something, I just don't know what you would call it,” Katie said. “See,” she said holding her arm out. A deep blue tribal tattoo started at her wrist and sleeved her arm, rose over her shoulders and spilled across the tops of her breasts. The rest wasn't on view, but Amy knew it continued downward across her stomach and beyond.

  “I like it,” Amy said. “I like it a lot, it looks so good on you, but it had to hurt like crazy... Didn't it,” Amy asked.

  “No, Aim. Not the ink, what's under the ink.” She held her arm out further.

  Amy looked closer. Katie rotated her arm and suddenly Amy saw it clearly. There were dozens of thin spidery lines of scaring that radiated out from her wrist, wound around her arm and spiraled upward.

  She caught her breath. “That looks pretty bad, Kate... What was it?”