by Kip Nelson
Mack first met with Hank and Grace outside, still wanting to show the people of New Haven that they were working hard to make up for the shortfall of food. People stood close by and watched the three of them discuss recent events. They all looked tired. Hank had been with the food supplies and had completed the inventory. He and his team had managed to salvage more food than they expected, but it wasn't enough to make a difference in their situation. If they didn't get more food soon, then there would be a shortage through the winter, and it wasn't guaranteed everyone would survive. Grace was looking better than the last time Mack had seen her. She wasn't covered in rat entrails any longer, but she still was tired and it seemed as though she hadn't had any sleep after she had returned to bed.
The first decision they agreed upon was to send the patrols back out into the city. It wasn't particularly fair to them since, at first, there had been a schedule so people wouldn't have to be away from New Haven for too long. So, they called back the patrols and first asked for any volunteers willing to go back out. They were met with reluctant glances and Mack was getting a little frustrated. After he had put so much on the line for New Haven, it was galling to see that other people weren't as forthcoming as him.
However, eventually people agreed to go out. They geared up, and left with slumped shoulders for they didn't expect to find much else out there. They already had been out once, and it had been a struggle to find anything of value. So, to go looking in the same regions for a quick fix didn't show great potential, but it was all Mack could do. There was another danger as well. If they sent out the killer unknowingly, that person could slip away into the city and never would be seen again. Yet, in lieu of any suspects, Mack couldn't afford to not give anyone his trust.
Grace and Hank remarked upon this and Mack said Maggie and Luis were trying their best, but that no progress had been made yet. Again, they were faced with the possibility that the murder wouldn't be solved. Hank asked Mack what they were going to do if they couldn't find the killer.
“I wish I had an answer for you,” he said, and then mentioned that he'd rather focus on the more immediate problems.
“Are there any other ways that we can get food, apart from relying on patrols?” he asked, hoping that one of them would have a moment of inspiration that would solve all their problems. Such a moment was not likely to come, however, as Grace and Hank looked uncertainly at each other.
“I don't really see what else we can do,” Hank said.
“The ground already is beginning to harden, and we can't store the crops for much longer. I suppose we could go out and try hunting for food. Although I don't know how palatable that is going to be for people when most of the animals in the city are going to be abandoned pets such as dogs, cats, and the rats that already have plagued us.”
“You'd be surprised at what people will eat when they're hungry,” Mack said.
“I’ve heard survival stories of how the brain actually makes things more appealing to you. There was a case of a man who was lost at sea, and he became so hungry that when he came across a fish he actually found eating their eyes appealing. He actually wanted to eat them, rather than just forcing them down out of desperation. But I agree, people have already lost a lot of themselves already. Still, I don't know how they're going to feel about roasting a cat or a dog, and I wouldn't like to eat those rats given where they go. Although I suppose there would be a poetic justice about it.”
“I know I mentioned it before, but what about sending a patrol to go back to the settlement in the forest to trade? Last time we were there they had plenty of food, and I doubt they've let things deteriorate. Plus, there are other animals in the forest that are a little easier to stomach,” she said, half-intending the pun.
“I understand what you're saying,” Mack said, “but I really don't want to spare that many people to go out. There's a risk that they will get hurt or injured on the way back. If we're going to do that, we'd have to send them out now so that they'd make it back before winter hit. But we already have patrols out there and other people are helping to strengthen the barriers after the rats weakened them. I just feel like it's a long shot at the moment, and we don't even know if the settlement has any food to spare.”
“I thought a long shot was all we had right now?” Grace said, getting annoyed that her ideas continually were being shot down. The fact that she still was tired and irritable didn't help.
“Something that's still feasible, though. I'd love to be able to send people out there and reconnect with the people we once knew, but there's no guarantee it would work. I don't think we can spare the amount of people we'd need to go out there. And even then, it's a long journey back and the food might spoil, since most of what they have is going to be fresh. But look, I asked you two to lead New Haven with me, and this is an example of something that I wanted to avoid. I don't want to have to make these unilateral decisions all the time. There are going to be times when I'm wrong, and times, like now, when my judgment is impaired by everything else that's going on. So, if Hank agrees with you, then I'm willing to put the plan in place.”
Both Grace and Mack then turned to Hank. He didn't much like being placed in the position of having to decide between the two of them, but he thought about it for a moment and then gave his response.
“I'm sorry, Grace,” he said, “but I think Mack's right. We need to focus on New Haven first and foremost I wouldn't want to risk sending anyone out into the forest this close to winter when there's a chance of them being caught in the elements. The weather already has turned. It's risky enough sending people out into the city.”
Grace didn't argue and meekly accepted their decision, grateful at least that they had listened to her. While more patrols had left, another was scheduled to return, so they waited patiently in hope that this patrol would bring with it some good news, and some food. They waited all day by the entrance to New Haven. As the hours dragged on, they became fearful that something had happened to the patrol and they would not return. However, eventually they heard the braying of horses and the echo of their hooves against the ground, and through the mist the patrol came, and New Haven rejoiced. The gates were swung open in welcome, and the leader of the patrol, Daisy, jumped down from her horse and gave a report to Mack. She looked haggard. It evidently had been a long trek, and by the looks of it, they weren't carrying much food.
“We found an area with a few stores that still had stuff left, but it's mostly lower-priority items. We found a few cans of food, but not as much as we would have liked. It's all there for you to go through,” she said as a few bags and sacks were unloaded from the horses and dumped on the ground. People of New Haven came up to them and started poking around out of curiosity.
“What's happened here?” Daisy said after noticing the grim mood of those around her. Mack filled her in on everything, and Daisy was shocked.
“We've sent more patrols out to try replenishing the supplies. We were hoping you would be bringing back some food,” Grace said.
“I wish we were. I'm sorry,” Daisy said.
“I don't suppose you came across any other camps that we could trade with?” Mack asked. A strange look came upon Daisy's face.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that,” she said, moving in closer and lowering her voice.
She shifted her gaze across to the other people who were surrounding them and then suggested they go somewhere a bit more private. While everyone else was preoccupied with looking at all the supplies the patrol had brought back, Mack and the others left and went to City Hall, where they shut themselves away in Mack's office.
“What did you want to say? Did you find anyone else?” Mack asked, his voice trembling with hope that there were other people out there.
His dream was that there were more places like New Haven that they could trade with and use as support. Yet, from the look on Daisy's face, he knew those hopes were forlorn.
“We did, but not alive. We found a big camp, probably
about the same size as our old one, and again the evidence suggests it's the same group with the animals. The bodies that remained looked as though they had been mauled, and it wasn't too far from here either. Whoever they are, they're getting closer,” Daisy said.
“Did you see any of them?” Hank asked.
“No, there weren't any traces of them, which I found strange since they seemed to have some large animals. We camped out in the city and kept to ourselves. Some of the others wanted to follow the tracks, but I thought we'd better come back here to warn you before we did anything else. It seems as though they aren't content with just looting either, but total destruction. There was nothing left in these camps, nothing at all.”
“Can you tell me exactly where you found this camp?” Mack asked.
Then he moved over to the large map that had been pinned on the wall. It had various pieces of string marking the zones where the patrols were going, and other marks where various landmarks had been spotted, like the mall, the territory of the Lost Children, and the other camps they had seen destroyed. Daisy studied the map for a few moments, trying to get her bearings, then pointed to a specific area. Mack pulled out a pin and stuck it into the map where Daisy had indicated, and when he stood back to examine the map, his face fell.
“Are you seeing what I'm seeing?” he asked, hoping he was mistaken, but Grace, Hank, and Daisy all saw the same thing.
The pins that marked where this group had attacked formed a pattern, a pattern that was leading right to New Haven, like an arrow that was slowly and inexorably making its way toward its target.
“Then it's only a matter of time before they get here,” Mack said, clenching his jaw.
He continued looking at the map and imagined the enemy out in the city, gradually getting closer and closer to New Haven.
“Do you think they actually know we're here?” Grace asked.
“It's possible. We've had the big pyre that may have attracted some attention, and we've sent a lot of patrols out. They probably know that something is here, even if they don't know the strength of our numbers exactly,” Mack said.
“I hope none of the other patrols have engaged them,” Daisy said. Although by what they saw on the map it seemed as though the other patrols were far away from the path this group was heading in.
“I just wish the fighting would be over,” Hank lamented.
“There always seems to be someone else out there who wants to resort to violence. If they just saw the light, things would be far easier, and I'm worried about the state of this place if it undergoes another attack. We already have put up with a lot. I do not want all of it to take its toll on the people here. You've seen how they are. How much more do you think they can take?” Hank said, the anxiety etched on his face.
Mack turned back to the desk and placed his palms on the surface, leaning over to talk directly to Hank. All the misery that had plagued them in recent times, with the murder and the rat attack, had seemed to galvanize Mack. It had given him something else to focus on, something on which he could spend his anger and frustration, for those currencies were otherwise worthless.
“I wish it was, too, and I wish that we didn't have to live in fear of the people out there, but in this world life is a fight and we can't surrender. We have to keep going, because even if this dream seems impossible we must try making it a reality,” he said, more for himself than anyone else.
He looked at the map again, and knew that whoever was going to try taking New Haven was going to be in for a shock. Its residents weren't going to let anyone take their settlement from them, not this group, not a murderer, and most definitely not rats. With a renewed energy, Mack had rediscovered the spark that made him such a gifted leader. Just as the mist was lifting outside, so too, it felt as though the fog was moving away from his mind. He was feeling stronger to face the challenges that were going to present themselves.
Chapter Nine
Maggie and Luis had seen the patrol return, but they didn't spend any time talking about it as they had to focus on the investigation. There still wasn't a clear suspect presenting themself but Maggie and Luis felt like a breakthrough was around the corner. Maggie truly believed that patience would see the criminal make a mistake and that it was just a matter of time. They were preparing a list of people who didn't convince them of their innocence, ready to question them again. Some of these were people who had slammed the door in their faces, or ones who had seemed slightly off.
“They're not going to like us coming around again,” Luis said.
“It's not our job to be liked,” Maggie reminded him, “it's our job to find out who killed Peter, no matter what.”
The list had about ten to fifteen names on it. Maggie hoped that as more time had passed, people's feelings would have settled and they would be more willing to talk with her and Luis. However, as they were about to leave, the door to the store opened. Both of them were surprised when Tristan came in. He had a troubled look on his face and looked tired, as though he hadn't slept for days. Maggie came from behind the counter, and she looked worried because of the guilty look on her son's face. Luis glanced toward her, but she was focused on her son. She reached out to touch him, but he shirked away. His shoulders were slumped forward and his face was cast toward the ground. He shuffled in as the door closed by its own momentum.
“Tristan, are you okay?” Maggie asked. The young boy breathed in deeply and pressed his lips together, raising his head to look at his mom before he spoke.
“I know who did it, Mom. I know who killed Peter.”
The words dropped like anvils. This time when Maggie touched him, Tristan didn't flinch. She had taken hold of his elbow and led him to the chair that Luis had vacated. Luis, sensing that this was a moment that needed to be shared between mother and son, stepped back. He realized how difficult it must have been for Maggie to be in the position of both sheriff and mother.
Maggie sank to her knees as she placed her hands on Tristan's legs and looked up at him, speaking slowly and evenly. “You need to tell me exactly what you know and how you know it.”
“I'm sorry for not telling you before. I thought she'd come forward herself, but she hasn't. I didn't want to tell you, but I had to, I just had to. I can't let her get away with it. Not again.”
“What do you mean? Who are you talking about, Tristan?” Maggie said, her eyes wide.
She was angry with him for not coming to her about this before, but she pushed that to the back of her mind for it was more important to find out what he knew.
“It's Sharon,” Tristan said in a broken voice.
Maggie quickly glanced at Luis, who looked solemn, as she shifted her position to get a little closer to Tristan. Her son was being overwhelmed with emotion, and Maggie knew it was going to be difficult to keep him on an even keel. His lower lip was trembling, and his eyes were moving furtively. His leg was shaking, too, which Maggie could feel under her hand. She knew this was a sign that he was agitated.
“Slow down, Tristan, and tell me what happened. How do you know it's her? Did she tell you? Did you see it?”
“It's her! It's her! Who else could it be? It has to be her, Mom! It has to be! She did it! She killed Peter because she was trying to make it up to me, but she can't. I won't forgive her for what she did, Mom, and I won't forget it either. She killed him, and now she's trying to hide it from everyone, but I won't let it happen. We all need to see the truth, to see what a monster she is.”
“Okay, Tristan, please, you must try to calm down and tell me exactly what you know.”
“I know she did it, Mom! You must believe me! At least go question her again. You have to do that at least,” he said, his voice rising and falling as he spoke, his leg jerking wildly.
His eyes went wide as he grew more and more agitated, and Maggie had no choice but to relent to his wishes. She cupped her hands around his cheeks and pulled him close into her. He'd been through so much, and now it all was pouring out. She felt horrible in
that moment, and she had flashes of the past. She'd been a bad mother then, putting her job before Tristan, but at least he'd had his father to pick up the slack.
Now there wasn't anyone but her to look after him, and she'd been negligent in her duties. She had spent so much time trying to figure out who killed Peter that she hadn't taken the time to notice the toll it had taken on her own son, or if she had noticed, she hadn't done anything about it. She buried her face into his neck and clung to him tightly, closing her eyes to stop the stinging tears from coming out, wishing that she could make up for all the mistakes she had made, and all the mistakes she would make in the future.
She wondered if it was possible to be a sheriff and a mother at the same time. She knew that it must be, but she would have to work at not letting her job consume her, and she would need Luis' help with that. Making a mental note to talk about it later, she continued holding onto Tristan for as long as he needed, hoping that it showed her son that she still was there when he needed her.
“Okay, Tristan, okay,” she finally said, pulling away from him. His cheeks were red and his breaths were heavy and hard. She wiped his eyes and stroked his cheek, smiling at him.
“We'll go talk to her again. It'll all be okay. Thank you for coming to me with this,” she said, trying to speak in a soothing manner, even though inside her heart was in turmoil at seeing her son in such a state.