Eden Lost (Eden Rising Trilogy Book 2)

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Eden Lost (Eden Rising Trilogy Book 2) Page 12

by Andrew Cunningham


  Meanwhile, the battle in the street had started up again. A couple more men fell, but the others were fairly well hidden. The machine guns were silent. The two men manning the large guns were the first to fall in the initial shooting and no one had taken their places.

  Suddenly, a bright light almost blinded Lila, and she went momentarily deaf, before hearing the “whump” of something blowing up. The blast blew her from her spot in the window. She fell to the floor, dazed. Slowly, she came to her senses and shakily got to her feet. The ringing in her ears was intense and a black smoke filled the air. She made her way to the bathroom to check on Katie. She and Ralph were fine.

  “Stay in here.”

  “What was that, mommy?” asked Katie, but Lila didn’t hear her and went back to the window.

  Through the smoke she could see the tanker truck—or what was left of it—smoldering in the center of the street. The remaining Nebraska crew were wandering around, holding their ears, no longer carrying their weapons. The armored truck directly in front, and the canvas-covered truck directly behind the tanker were also destroyed. She could see hostages falling out the back of the second canvas-covered truck. But everything seemed in slow-motion.

  Finally, she had enough of her senses to venture outside. Others from her group were doing the same. One by one, the stragglers from the convoy were rounded up and told to lie on the ground. They gave no fight. They had no fight left in them.

  Lila figured that some bullets must have punctured the tanker, spilling the fuel. Some ricochets probably sparked a fire, leading to the explosion. But it was only speculation.

  Other than the ringing, Lila was almost back to normal. She ran over to the hostage truck to check on the girl she hit with the bullet.

  “Oh God, please let her be okay,” cried Lila as she ran.

  The girl was hurt, but was far from dead. Lila’s bullet had caught her in the left bicep. She was bleeding profusely, but Lila knew she would live. The explosion had done almost as much damage to her, as she was bleeding from lacerations to her head. Walt had also made her his first destination. He took off his shirt and made a makeshift bandage out of it for her arm. The head wounds were superficial.

  “Always looks worse than it is,” he said to Lila. “That was really good shooting.”

  “What do you mean? I hit the hostage.”

  “Of course you did. It was going to take a pretty miraculous shot from that distance not to. But you didn’t kill her. I’m talking about your next shots: Dorothy, Tom, and then the leader. Precision shots. And I heard that you had to relearn how to shoot after you lost your right eye. That couldn’t have been easy.”

  There was nothing Lila could say to that, so she touched Walt in thanks, then went to survey the rest of the scene.

  Other than a couple of minor wounds, the Monett residents fared well. All of the hostages, ten in all including the girl Lila shot—at least Tom and Dorothy weren’t lying about that—were okay. Someone was giving them water.

  She counted seventeen dead Nebraskans. Four more had serious wounds, leaving only six unhurt. One of the Monett residents tied their hands and legs, and sat them at the edge of the street.

  Lila went to get Katie. She had been in the bathtub long enough. When Lila pulled the mattress off the top, she found a hot, sweaty child, and an equally warm dog. She led them out to the not-so-fresh air on the street.

  “Try not to look at the dead people, Katie.”

  “Okay,” replied Katie. But Lila knew she couldn’t stop her. She knew nothing could stop a child’s curiosity. As sick as it was, seeing the bodies was probably a good experience in this new world.

  Walt called out to one of the women. “Can you head over to the stables and have them send someone out to the other farms with the news that they can come back? And could you have them get Doc back here as soon as possible? He needs to look at this girl.”

  It was over. Their motley crew of seventeen had won the fight with more than two dozen heavily armed men. As the realization began to set in, the townspeople started to congratulate each other.

  As well they should, thought Lila.

  They each commended Lila on her shooting and her leadership. Walt’s words before the battle ran through her head. She vowed never again to entertain any doubts about her decision-making and leadership abilities.

  A little while later, the posse rode in. She could tell from the worn-out horses that they had been riding hard.

  Ben trotted up to her and painfully slid off his horse, obviously relieved to be on solid ground again.

  “I can’t leave you for a minute without you getting in trouble,” he said with a deadpan face. “I can’t wait to hear this story!”

  “The question is,” replied Lila. “How did these guys get past you?”

  Ben frowned. “My fault. I was too cocky. I didn’t think things through. My mistake almost cost a lot of lives.”

  “No,” said Lila. “It just happened. Don’t blame yourself.” She repeated what Walt had said to her, and added, “Ben, you’re going to make mistakes from time to time, but unlike some, you’ll own up to them. We’re both going to make mistakes, so we need to get used to it. So they outsmarted you—not just you, though, all of you—it happens.” Lila had the beginnings of a smile. “But, as usual, you had me to bail you out.”

  Ben gave her a hug. “I did, didn’t I?”

  The cleanup took hours. The prisoners were escorted to a large shed for safekeeping. The church was converted into a make-shift hospital and the wounded were made comfortable while they waited for the doctor. The dead Nebraskans were carried out of the town and temporarily put into an abandoned shell of a building in the old section of the original town. The members of the posse took on new roles without any urging. Half of them immediately started to repair the heavily damaged houses, while the other half worked on the disposal of the three destroyed vehicles. As they worked, the townspeople began to filter in, staring almost as one at the battle remains. The working vehicles were parked outside the entrance to the town.

  “What do you suggest we do with the prisoners?” Brian asked Ben.

  “We can try to get information from them, but we have no idea if they will even tell the truth, so that will most likely be a wasted exercise.”

  “Do we let them go?” Brian seemed uncomfortable. Ben knew that Brian thought Ben was going to suggest killing them. Again the reputation.

  “We kinda have to.” Relief formed on Brian’s face. Ben continued, “We don’t want to have to guard them indefinitely, so I say we let them go—without weapons, of course. We warn them what will happen if they return.”

  “Yeah,” said Brian, with a slight smirk. “We’ll sic Lila on them.”

  Ben smiled. “A fate worse than death.” He turned serious. “What are you going to do with the remaining trucks? I suggest we keep them and use them as work vehicles.”

  “I don’t think the townspeople will agree to that.”

  “Why not?” Ben was mystified.

  “Hard to explain. We’ve carved out a life here without our former conveniences. When gas became scarce and we gave up our trucks, nobody seemed to mind. I think they were ready to say goodbye to the old world. Besides, the gas problem hasn’t improved any.”

  “One of the trucks has a good number of full gas cans—probably insurance in case something happened to the tanker. So we could get a lot of use out of them until the gas ran out.”

  Brian was shaking his head. “Nope. I’ll bring it up to the townspeople for a vote, but I can guarantee it’ll get voted down. The fact is, we like our life here.”

  “I don’t understand it.”

  “You lived for six years in the forest. I would think you, of all people, would understand.”

  “We didn’t have a choice, and we lived alone. Your situation is different. You’re trying to rebuild a civilization. How do you expect to do that without power?”

  “We’re not trying to rebuild a whole civiliz
ation. We’re trying to make a life for ourselves, and we like our life here.” He could tell Ben wasn’t convinced. “Our life is simple. It’s like …” he was searching for the words. “It’s like trying to merge two completely different cultures into one. It can’t be done. At least, it can’t be done so everyone is satisfied. We’ve figured out how to do everything the simplest way, and we’ve all embraced it. Those who couldn’t embrace it chose to leave a long time ago. Yes, we could spend our time pursuing ways to bring back our old existence, but to what end? Where would it stop? Our world was so technologically advanced, we’d never be able to catch up to what we once had, so we’d always be wanting more. This way, we don’t crave more because we don’t need it. We have everything necessary right here. What was your impression of Monett when you first arrived?”

  Ben didn’t have to think. He knew what the answer was. “How happy everyone seemed.”

  “Exactly. And it’s not a false happiness—like they are trying to make the best of it—but a true contentment, Ben. We’ve moved on from the old world. You have as well. You couldn’t have lived so long in the forest without reaching that same conclusion.”

  Brian finished, “You could look at it as just using the trucks to make life a little easier. No big deal, right? We look at it as an intrusion. Simple as that.”

  *****

  As expected, the prisoners weren’t talking, and true to his word, Brian informed them that they would be let go. Also as expected, they complained about being freed with no weapons or mode of transportation. It was decided that the four injured Nebraskans—none of whom had suffered life-threatening wounds—would be let go when they were all ready to travel, separately from the first group.

  Ben suggested a final use for the trucks that Brian approved: The first group of prisoners would be taken as far as the trucks could go—until they ran across a wide ravine a few miles away that Brian knew of—and let go. The trucks, in turn, would be pushed into the ravine—as Ben had done with the other group they encountered. Nobody in town wanted a reminder of the Nebraskans’ presence, so it was decided that the dead would also travel in the trucks, and the bodies would be thrown into the ravine.

  “Here’s the thing,” Brian said to the prisoners after they were loaded into the truck. “If you ever make it back to your town, let whoever is in charge know that we just want to live in peace. I don’t know what your plan is. Maybe it’s as simple as wanting to conquer as much territory as possible, which is stupid. But maybe it’s something else altogether. Regardless, we will fight. Who knows, maybe you can get the best of us, but it would take an awful lot of you to do it, and your casualties would be excessive. It’s just not worth it, no matter what your plan. So take that back with you. We’ll always be ready.”

  Ben drove one of the trucks, and others followed the trucks on horseback, trailing along horses for the men driving the trucks. The prisoners were released, and the dead and the trucks sent to the depths of the ravine. Their task finished, they headed back toward Monett.

  I turned in the saddle and watched the sorry procession of Nebraskans walk along the edge of the ravine in their quest to find a way across and head back toward their home. I was sure we’d never have any problems with them again, but I couldn’t help thinking that somewhere down the line, we weren’t finished with the Nebraska crowd.

  Chapter 18

  Life settled down for Ben and Lila. They busied themselves getting their house in order and integrating into town life. But deep down they both knew that it wasn’t for them. They participated in town activities, both business and social, attended church on Sunday, and enrolled Katie in school. They gave socialization their best shot, but while they appreciated having the opportunity to be around others, it was more interaction than they wanted. They had just spent too much time alone. Over the next few months they had many conversations that all ended the same way—come spring, they would leave.

  Even Katie seemed antsy. She got along with the other children and enjoyed school, but the minute school ended for the day, she was back at the stable. When she wasn’t riding her horse, she was brushing him, feeding him, and just loving him. A bond formed between them in no time, which came as no surprise to Ben and Lila.

  Almost two weeks after the attack, the three of them decided to go for a family ride to explore the area. Katie had already become comfortable on her horse, and some of the stable hands predicted that she would be an accomplished rider in no time. Although not as comfortable as Katie, Lila was also getting used to riding.

  Ben hadn’t sat on his horse since the attack, using the excuse that he was still sore “down there.”

  “Funny,” Lila said, “that it hasn’t stopped you from ‘other’ activities.”

  It was a bright sunny day, warm for mid-autumn. They had endured two days of violent downpours earlier in the week and needed to get out of the house and go somewhere. The ground had dried and Lila convinced Ben that it would be a perfect day to get away for a while.

  They reached the stable and sought out their horses.

  “C’mon Scooby,” said Katie, leading her horse over to the saddles.

  Ben and Lila looked at each other.

  “Scooby?” Lila asked Katie.

  “That’s his name.” answered Katie matter-of-factly.

  “How did you pick that name?” asked Ben.

  “I think he looks like Scooby-Doo.”

  Katie’s two favorite shirts were the Scooby-Doo and SpongeBob shirts they had picked out for her.

  “I suppose it makes sense that she would name him that,” said Lila.

  “Better than SpongeBob, anyway,” answered Ben. “I suppose we should name our horses.”

  “I’ve already thought of that,” said Lila. “I’ve had a name going through my head for a couple of days.” She led her horse out of the stable. He had an unruly black mane that gave him a wild look.

  “I’m going to call him Captain Jack.”

  Ben raised an eyebrow.

  “He looks a little like Captain Jack Sparrow, and since people seem to think I look like a pirate with my patch, it seems appropriate. Also,” she said in a conspiratorial tone, “not to get you jealous, but I always had a thing for Johnny Depp.”

  “No problem. The list of actresses I had a crush on was pretty long. But in the end, it’s you and me.”

  “So what are you naming yours?”

  “Well, he’s big and powerful, so I think I’ll name him Moose.”

  “Moose?”

  “First-baseman for the Red Sox. Hit forty home runs his rookie year and was on a pace to hit fifty his second year when the season got cut short.”

  “Why did it get cut short?”

  “Um … the world ended?”

  “Oh, that. But Moose?”

  “Moose Monaghan. Big guy with bright red hair. Built like a truck.”

  “And his name was Moose?”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t his real name. Probably a nickname.”

  “I would hope.”

  They got their horses saddled and took off down the road in the direction of the two farms, Ralph following behind. It was a country road that had once been asphalt, and under the many layers of dirt the asphalt was probably still intact, but now it had become a pretty dirt lane. There were cracks in the earth, but for the most part, the earthquake had spared it, and it was a fairly straight run to the farms. Before reaching the first farm, though, Lila spied a small animal trail leading off into the woods a few hundred yards off to their left.

  “Want to try it?” she asked.

  Ben was feeling more comfortable and agreed. Frankly, he felt he needed it. He needed a reminder of their journey together, so much of which was spent traveling through woods.

  It turned out that they hadn’t picked an animal trail. Once in the woods, they saw signs for trails.

  “This was a park, or a nature preserve at one time,” said Lila. “We might get lucky with the trails.”

  And the
y did. The trail led to a pristine stream that emerged from a large rock formation. The peace and quiet served its purpose for Ben. They got down off their horses and sat by the water.

  “Bring back memories?” he asked Lila.

  “Doesn’t it seem like so long ago?” she answered. “It was an exciting, but scary time.”

  Katie had heard watered down versions of some of their adventures south after the event, so she quietly listened, leaning up against Ralph.

  “Of all the people we met, who do you miss the most?” asked Ben.

  “I really liked Nick and Jason, but I’m pretty sure we’ll see them again, so they don’t count for me. I’d have to say Phil.”

  Phil was a young Catholic priest they met early in their journey, when they were still terrified of the new world around them. Phil had created a safe haven for survivors, but one that saw little use. There were so few survivors—especially in the mountains of Western Massachusetts—that there was little need for his services. But Phil was ever the optimist, having spent years helping the poor in third-world countries. They tried to convince him to accompany them, but he chose to stay with his converted church. But when the church burned to the ground during a lightning storm, it proved to be too much for him. Seeing his usefulness fall away, his faith quickly followed, and he committed suicide.

  “Phil was one of the truly good people in this world,” Lila continued. “He had an outlook on life that was sorely needed in those years after the event—still needed, for that matter. I think he would have been a great friend to us and an important voice in this new society.”

  “I agree with you,” said Ben. “We met some people we liked, but Phil had the greatest heart of all.”

  Suddenly the mood had become somber. They were ready to leave. They climbed back onto their horses and found the trail back out of the woods. As they were trotting along the road, Ben said, “You know, when I’m not trying to hang on for dear life, I really like horseback riding.”

  The first farm they came to was a real working farm. Scaled down from what it might have once been, the field had been sectioned off into smaller crops. Ben could see the remnants of corn and tomatoes. Lila pointed out a large section for potatoes. A massive hay field spread out beyond the fences.

 

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