by Kip Nelson
“What do you suggest?” Grace said. She herself was only five or so years older than Peter and she couldn't imagine doing the things he had done.
The fire that had blazed in Maggie's eyes had diminished and she was more focused on taking care of Tristan. She led him to her horse and pulled some water out of the pack that was slung over the horse's back, letting her son drink from it. He calmed down a little and was breathing more normally. She looked up at Mack and waited for what he had to say. During their initial days together, she hadn't been sure about him. She had thought he was a typical alpha male who had assumed control of the group because nobody else had wanted to do so. Yet, in time, she had begun seeing he was a thoughtful man with a sharp mind and an ability to put the needs of other people ahead of himself, something that Maggie had struggled with herself. In the beginning, she had been terrified to let him have authority over the group because she had been so used to having it. She also had seen it as a mark of her failure in keeping her first group safe at the prison. However, gradually she saw that she had to let it go, and, indeed, she wanted to let it go because she was tired of the responsibility. Right now, she had Tristan and she was happy to make him her priority. But she wanted to get back at Peter and Sharon for breaking her little boy's heart.
“Yeah, what's the plan, Mack?” she asked, deferring to his judgment.
Mack, his face bloodied and bruised, looked at all those around him and stayed silent for a few moments as his mind whirred. He was a master tactician and always seemed to have a way out of these situations. In this world, Grace and Maggie were both indebted to him and knew he was one of the main reasons they were still alive. He had their unconditional trust and support. Eventually, his eyes drifted toward Tristan. The young boy was standing next to his mother, lost in his own thoughts, and when Mack spoke to him he was startled. He looked ashamed and his cheeks burned with embarrassment, but Mack waited for his answer. Maggie's hand rested against the small of his back and she nodded toward him, offering encouragement. Tristan hadn't expected this. He felt so guilty he thought he would have been punished, but he remembered now what it was like to be a family. He realized all these people were his family, as were the people of the settlement, and he had to do everything he could to help them.
“Tristan,” Mack said with a pensive look in his eyes, “I've heard you speak before about how the Lost Children used to recruit new members. Were they taken randomly as you came across them, or did you go into other communities to lure them away?”
“Mostly we would see them when they were alone or struggling to survive with their families,” he said, and then looked up at his mother before he revealed the rest of the truth. She urged him to continue, and Mack waited for him to complete his answer.
“But, yes, other times we would go into communities, pretending to be lost. They would take us in and treat us well, while we would gather their children and tell them about us. Most of the time they were ready to join. Sometimes we took them even when they didn't want to go,” he said, looking away.
But Mack and the others did not judge him. The time for judgment long since had passed. Everyone had done things they weren't proud of, and nobody blamed Tristan because they knew he had been working at the behest of Peter. Besides, Tristan still was a kid himself, and had done what he had done because he had nowhere else to turn. But when it mattered, he had done the right thing, and had proven he was an adult.
“Okay,” Mack said, “and do you know where these communities are?”
Tristan tossed his head from side to side. “It was a while ago but, yeah, I think I still can remember, although I don't think they'll be happy to see me,” he said.
“That's okay. We'll tell them what happened and I'm sure they'll understand,” he said, before explaining his plan properly.
“We already know there are other people out there, suffering just like us. We can't go back to the settlement like this, so we're going to have to ask for help. If we can get some allies we can get shelter and prepare a proper plan. I'm sure those people will jump at the chance to try getting their lost children back. I know it's a risk because making contact with new people always is going to have some element of danger, but it's the only way I can see us getting out of it.
“We will go to these people and tell them what happened, and hopefully they will be willing to help us. We won't win this fight with guns and weapons, but we just might stand a chance with love. If we can remind those children of the lives they used to lead with their families, if we can show them what it is to love each other, then maybe we can draw them away from Peter. Without them he's nothing, and I don't think he offers them anything special. Agreed?”
The others nodded and looked at Tristan to point them in the right direction. He jumped on his mother's horse and they changed direction, moving away from the settlement to the unknown. Mack hoped this was the right thing to do, but it was fraught with danger as he had no idea what the other people were like. He wasn't even sure if the children could be reminded of their old lives. But still, he was glad for the chance to gather his strength as they rode on.
Maggie had enjoyed the feeling of her son's arms around her, and she wished she could repair his shattered heart. It was clear he was suffering greatly from what happened, and there was only so much she could do to soothe his soul.
“I'm waiting for you to tell me 'I told you so',” he said after a time. She twisted her head back, but was unable to look at him properly.
“I wouldn't be so cruel. I am sorry this happened, but hopefully you can learn from the experience and use it in the future.”
“I feel like such an idiot. Of course she wouldn't like me in that way, especially not with Peter around.”
“Hey,” Maggie said sharply, “that's enough of that. One thing you must know is self-pity is not an attractive quality. It's okay to wallow in it for a little while, but you can't drown yourself in it. Sharon is a shallow girl, and I know this is hard to believe, but you're better off without her. You want somebody who can appreciate you for what you are. I know it hurts right now, but it will get better. I promise you that.”
“Did it hurt like this when you and dad broke up?” he asked. The question took Maggie by surprise, so much so she almost fell from her horse. She and Tristan hadn't really spoken about his father since they had been reunited, and Maggie usually didn't like to think about it too often.
“That was a different circumstance. We were together for years, and we had you as well. Of course it hurt, but, you know, we had been through a lot together. Sometimes, as adults, you can look at each other and admit to yourself you're not making each other happy anymore. When that happens, you decide if you want to try making things work, or if you should end things and limit the damage that it does. We chose the latter. It was never an easy decision, and we talked about it a lot before we finally went through with it but, yeah it hurt and, as long as we're being honest with each other, it still does. But by the time we ended things we both had changed from the people we had been when we first met. Sometimes that just happens in life, and it's okay. It's always difficult when you open yourself up to love someone because it makes you vulnerable, but I don't want you to be afraid to take that chance. If you feel something, then go for it, and as you get older hopefully you'll be able to see the signs of when other people reciprocate those feelings genuinely.”
Tristan nodded and pressed his head against her back, hugging her. “I'm so glad you found me again, Mom. I don't know what I would have done without you.”
“I'm glad I found you too, Tristan,” she said, taking one hand of the rein so she could squeeze his hand, and brought it to her lips to kiss.
On the other horse, Grace watched this interaction with interest. She never had known the love of a parent and it was at times like these when she was reminded of what she had missed. She had a lot in common with the Lost Children as she too had been lost for a long time. She often wondered how she would have turned out i
f she had been part of a family. She could understand why the Lost Children were acting like they did, and why they had obeyed Peter. When she was younger she had looked to various authority figures for guidance, but they always had let her down. Her heart went out to those kids, and she hoped they would be able to help these them. There was no way they would be able to make it in this world alone, and it was even sadder they had been taken from their actual parents to live as part of this isolated group. She knew what it was to feel the unique loneliness of having no parents and wanted to do her best to reunite these children with theirs.
As the journey continued, Mack checked in with Tristan. They were careful, as always, moving slowly through the city, just in case anyone was lying in wait for them. Occasionally, they came across a rat's nest, but the horses were quick enough to move past it without incident. Tristan guided them through the winding streets until they approached the first little community. Unlike their own settlement there were no barriers, merely signs that said for people to turn away. It wasn't a good start, and Mack hoped these people were friendly. They proceeded carefully, moving through the buildings until they could hear voices. The others drew their weapons, but Mack told them to put them away; he didn't want to appear threatening. They were in a residential area, and most of it seemed to be deserted; the doors of houses swung open and there weren't many signs of life. Mack and the others continued until they found a group of people standing outside a building who froze and stared upon seeing them.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
MACK STOPPED and looked down at them from atop his horse. The people he saw standing before him were malnourished, tired, and downtrodden. It was a look he had come to know well in this world. They were wearing old clothes that were turning into rags, and their eyes were sunken into their heads. They didn't seem to be carrying any weapons, and if Mack had been an aggressor he would have been able to take over this community in minutes. Some of them moved toward each other for safety, and most of them had fear in their eyes. Some of them had curiosity. They glanced at each other frantically, but made no sudden movements.
Mack held open his hands and alighted from his horse. He walked forward slowly and spoke loudly and clearly, announcing himself and that he wasn't there to hurt anyone, he only wanted to speak to the leader of the community. At first, nobody responded, so he walked up to the nearest person, a lean man whose eyes darted about frantically, and asked him directly. Mack's heart went out to them. Sometimes it was easy to forget there were so many people like this out there, people who weren't hardened enough to face the world head-on, and just were scrapping for survival any way they could. The man raised a skeletal arm and pointed to a building with an open door. Mack nodded at him and thanked him, then went back to his group.
“I think it's better if I go in alone. I don't want them to think we're trying taking over,” he said.
“They look like ghosts,” Grace said in a hollow voice.
Mack turned back around and looked at the people. If there was one word he would use to sum them up, ghosts would be suitable. They seemed devoid of joy or happiness, and were only alive because they hadn't yet died. There were so many people in this world he wanted to help, yet he felt so powerless. There was only so much one man could do, and he hated how his time had to be spent fighting off threats rather than helping these people with their lives. Even though he didn't know their story yet, he could well imagine it, as it was a story shared by many in this new world. Mack glanced at Tristan and noticed how the boy was looking away. Mack only could imagine the guilt Tristan was feeling, and how he likely felt partly responsible for causing the people to be this way, as losing their children must have been a catalyst for this ennui.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Maggie asked, looking skeptical.
“It's the only one I have. Besides, don't you think these people could use a little hope?” Mack replied. “I doubt there's going to be any trouble, but if there is you know what to do. I'll be back in a little while. Try to stay quiet and keep your distance. I don't want these people to get spooked.”
With that, he turned his back on them and walked through the small cluster of people. He felt his eyes on them as he walked but none of them made any threatening moves. He tried to look at them and smile, but they all eyed him suspiciously. From what he could see from a quick scan of the area they didn't have much in the way of supplies, which explained why they were so malnourished. It was certainly a contrast to his own community, but in some ways, he felt guilty that they had plenty of supplies while these people were struggling to make it through the days.
He reached the building to which the man had pointed. Mack cleared his throat before he went in. The building was an old house, and the reason the door was open was simple; there was no door. Darkness loomed before him as he knocked on the side of the house and announced his presence. A soft voice called back to him, so he entered the house. The floor was a mess, with debris scattered around it.
“In the kitchen,” the voice said. Mack worked his way through the living room to the source of the voice.
The kitchen was far lighter than the rest of the house, but this was mainly due to a huge hole in the wall. The kitchen was just as much a mess as the rest of the house; dust lay upon the counters, cupboards hung open, pots and pans rested on the floor. In the middle of the room was a table, and at the end of it sat a woman with gray hair, dark skin, and dark eyes that crinkled around the edges. She smiled gently at Mack and gestured for him to take a seat.
“I'm Mack,” he said, “and, first of all, I'd like to apologize for my appearance,” he said with a smile as he sat next to her.
“I'm Tash, and I'm sure there's a story there,” she said.
Unlike the other people he had seen, there was a twinkle in her eyes that suggested she hadn't lost a youthful spark. Mack imagined that before the world ended she was the type of person to be involved in every facet of the community, hosting events and eager to be a part of people's lives.
“There is, but I'm not sure it's one you want to hear.”
“Perhaps not,” Tash said, the smile fading from her face. “So, Mack, what is it you want? I must say that if you are here to steal from us, you've come to the wrong place. We have nothing.”
“I know a lot of people are only in this world to take things, but I can assure you I'm not one of them. I can see your people are finding it hard to make it through this world, and you have my sympathies. We've had things stolen from us as well, and I don't want my people to turn into that.”
“Well, this conversation is already going better than what I expected. What is it that you came here for?”
Mack inhaled before he spoke. “I come from a settlement not too far from here. We've managed to do well so far, even though we have suffered from a number of attacks. My aim is to try rebuilding some sort of civilization and uniting people through our common need to survive, and avoid descending into anarchy like so many seem to want. However, at the moment, my community has been overrun by the Lost Children.” A look of recognition flashed across Tash's face at the mention of the Lost Children. “We know you had some children stolen from you--”
Tash raised her hand and closed her eyes. “Let me stop you right there, Mack. I admire what you are trying to do with your community, and I am glad there are people out there who are managing to prosper, or at least what counts as prospering in this world, but I can see already,” she gestured to his face, “that you are accustomed to violence and that I cannot take part in. After we came together, we all made a vow that we would not become animals. We wanted to uphold our principles. We are not violent. We simply don't have it in our characters to be so. Sometimes it has meant we have been subject to theft and attack, but we think it is important to stay true to who we are and, yes, it was a sad day when the children were taken from us. We had many lengthy discussions about what to do in the aftermath, but even then, we decided we could not go after them, because we could not bring o
urselves to attack anyone else, especially not the children. We mourned their loss, as we mourn the loss of those who died, but we have made a promise of peace and I will not see us break that vow.”
Mack looked at her with admiration. Despite her calm demeanor, she was a fierce character and someone whose principles meant a lot to her, which was something Mack could well understand. He bowed his head slightly.
“You misunderstand my meaning. Yes, I have faced violence, but I do not consider myself a violent man. I want peace above all else. I only resort to violence when there is no other choice--”
“There is always a choice Mack,” she said, and Mack decided to not argue with her on that point.
“--I have absolutely no intention of fighting with the Lost Children,” he continued.
“In fact, I want to do completely the opposite. I think this is a conflict that only can be won with love. I want to remind them of their homes, their families. I want to bring them all back together and repair the damage that has been done.” He spoke earnestly and hoped his words would inspire her, for his plan would work only if those he approached accepted his offer. Her face was unreadable as she considered his words, but then the corners of her mouth turned upward and her eyes danced.