“Yes, and your pack if you want.”
7
On the short drive to the city center, Luke took in as much as he could. Apart from the lack of cars, the section of Main Street that the Drake Mountain guys had occupied could have passed for any town pre-attack.
It was neat and well-ordered and then Luke spotted something that made his mouth drop open. Light in some of the shop windows, but not the flickering light of candles or a fireplace.
Electric light.
“You guys have power?”
“Yep, and some water,” said Bowman.
“Wow, that’s amazing. Good old army know-how, huh?”
“Yep. The Colonel runs a pretty tight ship.”
Luke spotted clothes hanging in the window of what according to the old signage used to be ‘Betty Lou’s emporium’.
“And stores?”
Bowman waved vaguely at the shopfronts.
“Kind of. Clothes and food shops but no one pays for anything. If they’re pulling their weight, no one goes hungry. It’s all free but rationed.”
“Communist paradise, huh?”
Bowman bristled, and Luke immediately regretted using the term. “No offence, I mean in the purist sense of the word. I mean the community owns everything and everybody contributes to receive what they need.”
Bowman relaxed.
“Yeah, the Professor came up with a system and it seems to work pretty well.”
The color drained from Luke’s face.
“Oh, the Professor,” said Bowman. “Don’t worry about him. Things aren’t the way they used to be. We… well actually, I’ll leave it for the colonel to tell you about it.”
“How many of you are there?” Luke asked.
“About five hundred. We managed to evacuate some of the kids when we got out of there but there were a lot left behind. We’re about half Drake Mountain survivors and half people we’ve assimilated since.”
“So, they live in the houses, right? I saw chimney smoke.”
“Yeah, when we first got here we bunked down in an old school but as we rebuilt we started repopulating the town.”
Bowman turned off the main street onto Green Street.
“The Colonel and us grunts use the old City Hall as our base.”
“Oh, I thought you’d be in the State House,” said Luke.
“No, the Chinese used that as their base here and pretty much gutted it. Here we are.”
They pulled up in front of a pretty, triple story red brick building surrounded by neat, manicured lawns, with white arched windows and an impressive spire atop it. It was a jarring sight for Luke considering the vacant and overgrown post-apocalyptic landscape he was used to travelling through.
Luke could see now how he had been spotted; he could see at least two figures in the shadows of the viewing area under the peaked iron cap of the spire.
They got out of the vehicle and headed into the building. Up close, the facade of the building was even more impressive and harkened back to an earlier time. Once they stepped through the entrance though, its decor was ‘90s council office.
Luke received curious stares from the few uniformed occupants of the building that they encountered as Bowman took him up two flights of stairs to the Colonel’s quarters on the top floor.
There was a pretty, dark-haired girl around his age at a desk outside grand double doors. She looked confident and her gaze locked onto Luke’s briefly before dismissing him and passing to his escort without so much as a raised eyebrow.
“Lieutenant Bowman,” she said, all business.
“Hi Becky. I need to see the Colonel. We have a visitor he’d be interested in talking too.”
“I see. One moment.”
She stood up and went to the door. She wore a crisp black skirt and white shirt, with patent leather shoes that looked like they had seen better days. She knocked lightly before opening the door.
“Bowman has someone to see you, Sir.”
She looked over her shoulder at Luke, her eyes curious, then back into the office.
“Not sure Sir, definitely not one of ours.”
“Send them in,” came the response. Luke recognized Colonel Randall’s gruff voice immediately.
“Yes, Sir.”
Becky returned to her desk.
“The Colonel will see you now.”
Am I in a time warp? Luke asked himself, unable to shake the feeling he was watching actors in a TV show.
He tipped an imaginary hat at Becky and was rewarded with a brief curl of a smile before she found something more interesting in the papers on her desk.
Luke followed Bowman into the Colonel’s office.
Colonel Randall regarded the big leather clad man that entered his office with a steely look.
“And this is?” he asked, without breaking Luke’s gaze.
“It’s Luke, Sir, from Drake Mountain. He’s changed a bit.”
The older man’s eyes widened.
“Isaac’s friend?” he queried Luke, as if not quite believing his own man.
Luke grinned.
“Yep, that’s me.”
“Well! I never thought we’d see you boys again, not after the Professor sent his attack dog after you.”
He stood up from his chair, limped around the table and held his hand out to Luke.
Luke took it and they shook hands warmly.
“War wound?” the Randall asked, gesturing to his hook.
“Yeah. Looks like you have one too…”
Randall patted his thigh.
“Yes, bullet just above the knee,” his eyes grew distant. “Not a Chinese bullet either… have a seat, looks like we have some catching up to do. Bowman, bring us some coffee, will you?”
“Sir.”
Bowman exited, and Luke took a seat as Randal made his way back behind the desk.
“I’m afraid of the answer, but is Isaac still alive? The rest of your group?”
Randall saw the kid’s mouth tighten. He might be as big as a linebacker, but Randall couldn’t think of him as anything but a kid.
“Isaac was alive and well, last time I saw him. We lost some escaping Drake Mountain and… some since, but on the whole, yeah most are still alive.”
The old man nodded. Some tragedy had befallen the kid and he wasn’t about to rip the scab off his wound by asking for more details.
“And Ragg?”
Luke dragged his hook across his throat.
“Good. How?”
“He caught us on the mountain pass. We managed to kill him in the end but not before he killed Toby and did some damage to Isaac.”
Randall nodded.
“He was a formidable prick. You did well to stop him. How did you lose your hand?”
“I can thank Ragg for that too. He shattered the bones in my hand during the escape, we had to take it off.”
“I see. Where did you head after you escaped?”
“We headed south and managed to find ourselves a place to live. A farm. We were there just on five years before we were forced to move on a few months ago.” Luke didn’t want to expand on that story with the Colonel – that conversation would only lead to the tragic confrontation with the Marauders. “What about you? How did it go down?”
“Your escape was the catalyst for a final confrontation, actually. The Professor was injured and went crazy – well, crazier – and he ordered the Homeland Security to lock my men up. I couldn’t have that of course and it turned to violence. I was shot, but we won, which is why you’re talking to me now and not him I guess.
“After the smoke cleared we carried him out of there. I’m glad we brought him along, he’s been a valuable contributor here in Concord.”
Luke doubted the wisdom of giving the Professor a second chance but held his tongue.
“How did you get out?” he asked.
Randall shrugged.
“There was an escape tunnel known only to the top brass. When we saw the enemy incoming, we got the hell
out of there. Not quick enough to save everybody, they hit the facility with missiles and it wasn’t as impregnable as we’d been led to believe. We lost a hell of a lot people, but we managed to evacuate nearly half the military personnel who’d survived the battle with Homeland, plus about a hundred kids.”
“So, the tunnel you had us digging really was just a ruse to keep us busy? You had another escape route the whole time?”
There was a knock at the door.
“It was. Come!”
Bowman brought in a tray with two mugs of steaming black liquid.
“I can’t believe you have coffee,” Luke asked, sniffing the delicious aroma.
“It’s instant,” Randall said. “We found a few pallets of it in a Costco. Should be enough to see out my days at least. Tastes like tar, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
Luke took a sip.
“Best coffee I’ve tasted in years,” he said. “Mind you, it is the only coffee I’ve had in years.”
Randall and Bowman laughed. The younger man took his leave.
“Now,” said Randall. “Where were we?”
“The Tunnel.”
“Ahh, yes. You’re right. The tunnel was to keep the kids busy. All the other work too. Idle hands are the Devil’s workshop and all. Can you imagine being cooped up in that hole in the ground with nothing to do?”
“No, I guess it was the smart thing to do.”
“So anyway, we hightailed it out of there. It was tough going though, the escape tunnel let out in thick woods and we had to take a path directly east to get out of there and avoid the Chinese. They came in hot.”
“I know, it’s why I was so surprised when Bowman and his boys pulled up in front of me this afternoon. We didn’t think anyone could make it out. How did you end up here?”
“Well, we went nomad for a while. Until it was clear that the Professor’s virus had worked, and the Chinese had been forced to retreat west. After two months living hand to mouth, we picked Concord as the site of our resurrection. It was close and big enough to house us plus more. It also had the bonus of being a former Chinese base, so we were able to fit out our little army properly. It stands over two hundred strong now and we have close to five hundred souls all up. So, you said you were at this farmhouse for five years. Why did you leave?”
Cornered, Luke told the story of the attack by the Marauders and the subsequent pursuit to Manchester without naming the city. While he trusted Colonel Randall, Isaac and the rest would be licking their wounds for a while and wouldn’t want attention from an armed force so close to home when they hadn’t even settled in properly.
There would be plenty of time later to put out feelers to their neighbors; he was sure it would benefit both settlements if they could develop a good working relationship. Randall didn’t pursue it, perhaps sensing Luke was wanting to keep his cards close to his chest.
“Marauders, huh? Don’t know the name, but were they based up north? A big group led by a tattooed freak?”
“Yep, that’s them. They were in Ashland.”
“Okay, yep we were keeping our eye on them. We only had one skirmish near our road blocks on the 93 south of Plymouth. It didn’t end well for them, probably why they avoided us. We avoided them too.”
Luke nodded and waited for the obvious question. Almost as if reading his mind, it was the next one from Randall’s lips.
“So why are you travelling alone?”
“I couldn’t…” he began, and his voice cracked with emotion. He felt his mouth drag involuntarily at the corners as he struggled to contain his emotions in front of the older man. “I lost someone… sorry.”
The Colonel stood up and came around to Luke and put his arm around the younger man’s broad shoulders.
“Nothing to be sorry about, son,” he said, in a low voice.
The man’s empathy opened the floodgates and Luke was suddenly wracked with sobs that, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t control. He buried his face in Randall’s side, helpless not to take comfort in the small act of human kindness.
They were like that for a long time until Luke’s sobs abated. He pulled away.
“Sorry,” he murmured, wiping tears from his eyes sheepishly. “You may need to have that uniform dry-cleaned.”
Randall laughed heartily.
“As I said, no apology necessary. Sometimes you just need to get it out, especially if you haven’t had someone to talk to.”
Luke nodded.
The Colonel went back to his desk and looked out the window as he sat down, wincing at the stiffness in his leg.
“Looks like it’s nearly time for grub. Will you join us?”
“Yes, thanks. That would be great. Any chance of a bed for the night?”
“Of course. Goes without saying. After dinner I’ll have Bowman allocate you a cot in the sleeping quarters. You’re welcome to stay longer if you wish.”
“Thanks for the offer but I’ll get going tomorrow.”
“Where are you heading?”
“East. I want to see the ocean again.”
“Sounds like a grand plan, son. East is good.”
“West isn’t? Chinese?”
“Not unless you cross the Mississippi. That’s their border now. So we hear anyway. Since they fled the Professor’s virus they haven’t been back across. That doesn’t mean they won’t in the future, but I’m thinking the west and Canada is plenty big enough to keep them busy.
“No, there’s a ‘colony’ that’s sprung up in New York State. Rochester. Apparently, they call themselves New America. They’re aggressive and they’re spreading. Swallowing up any smaller groups they come across. Rumor is that Aidan Riley is their leader.”
Luke recognized the name instantly.
“The President’s son?”
“The very same. It’s a rumor only at this stage, but one I hope to get confirmation of real soon. I have a four-man team going out in two days to gather intel.”
“Why now?”
“Because sooner or later, we’re going to run across them. We’ve taken in some people who crossed three states to get away from them. Apparently, their MO is to give anyone they come across an ultimatum. Join and become loyal citizens of New America, what they call allies, or be wiped out.”
“Like the Romans?” Luke said.
“Yeah, just like the Romans. My team will give me an idea of how big they are and how far west they’ve come.”
Luke started to rethink his decision to stay mum about Manchester. Isaac should know about this, but the threat wasn’t imminent, so he stayed his tongue.
All up they spoke for two hours before Randall stood up.
“Okay then, well I’ll show you around some, then we’ll eat,” said Randall.
8
The evening meal was surreal. Word had spread about the big red-haired man with the hook for a hand, a long-lost survivor of Drake Mountain. Rushed plans were made and nearly half the community turned out at the City Hall for a feast in his honor. The crowd was too big to fit inside, so given it was an unseasonably warm night, tables were set up on the lawn.
Luke, the Colonel, Bowman and some other soldiers of an equivalent rank were seated at the head table. He had barely sat down before a wooden goblet of frothy beer was thrust into his hand.
Randall, holding a goblet of his own, stood and the crowd hushed.
“Folks! Tonight, we celebrate the appearance of a friend from Drake Mountain. We thought he and his people were lost. Raise your drinks in a toast. To old friends and to those we’ve lost along the way! To Luke!”
Randall banged his goblet against Luke’s and they both took a long draught. The warm home-brewed draught had a strong nutty flavor to it but was pleasant enough and after half a goblet, went straight to his head. Not only warm with alcohol, he leaned back and watched the happy people of Concord getting on with life.
The meal was a sight to behold. Fresh vegetables, fruit and meat. Luke began to salivate as they were carving
meat from the huge slab of beef on the spit. He hadn’t eaten a proper cooked meal since they had fled the farm and even then, generally chicken or rabbit was usually the meat they consumed.
Luke ate with relish, in fact he ate so much that his bloated stomach was protruding over the waistband of his pants when he was done. He was just washing down the final mouthful with the dregs of his second beer drink when he saw a painfully thin man with white hair and a scraggly beard making his way through the throng and towards their table.
Luke's Trek (America Falls Book 5) Page 4