Seeds

by Chris Mandeville

  “You’re right,” Nikolai said. “My mother’s retiring, and I can’t think of a better apprentice than Mia. She’s very like my mother—shrewd and cunning with a keen ability to read and manipulate. And no moral qualms about the nature of the business. The role will fit Mia like a glove.”

  “That’s fine for Mia, but what about Will?” Reid knew he should keep quiet, but he couldn’t help it. “You can’t stand by while she manipulates him into giving up his dreams.”

  “Not long ago, I would have agreed with you,” Nikolai said. “But my children are adults now. It’s not my place to steer them where I think they should go. A person must chart his own course if the journey is to mean anything.”

  “I should have warned him,” Reid said. “I wish someone had warned me.”

  “Would you have listened?” Brandt asked. “Besides, Mia’s not all bad.”

  “How can you say that?” Reid asked. “You know better than anyone what she’s like. You’re the one who made her come clean with me.”

  “I didn’t make her,” Brandt said. “All I did was point out what you’d be sacrificing to stay with her. She chose to do the right thing and let you go.”

  Reid heard Brandt’s words, but he was having a hard time digesting them. Was it possible Mia had made a choice out of concern for someone other than herself?

  “I appreciate your concern for Will,” Nikolai said, clapping Reid’s shoulder. “But when a man feels the siren’s song, there’s nothing anyone can say to keep him from following. It’s up to the man whether he goes blindly or opens his eyes. I think Will’s eyes are wide open and he sees the real Mia. Whether he follows her siren song because of that or in spite of it, who can say?”

  One Hundred Thirty

  Santa Clarita, California

  “We should stop for the night, don’t you think, Doctor?” Pascal was concerned about the bicycles keeping up in the mountains.

  “No,” Justine said. “We’ve hardly gone any distance at all.”

  It had taken half a day to cover less than a hundred miles. Of course stopping every hour to walk hadn’t helped, but it was necessary given the Travelers’ pace.

  “Justine.” Advani placed her hand on Justine’s shoulder. “You and the baby need a full night’s sleep. We must find lodging and make a meal before it gets dark.”

  “I’m not stopping yet,” Justine insisted. “We have at least two more hours of sunlight, and we’re on a deadline.”

  “Tell me about this deadline. What happens on the full moon?” Pascal asked.

  “If I tell you, can I keep driving?” Justine asked.

  “That seems fair,” Pascal said, not promising anything.

  “Okay,” Justine said. “If we don’t reach a particular meeting place by the full moon, we’ll have to wait there until the next full moon.”

  “Why have I never heard this?” Pascal asked. “Not one of the missionaries I’ve questioned over the years mentioned it.”

  “They can’t tell you what they don’t know.”

  “How does it work if they don’t know?”

  “We’re trained from a young age that when we find a husband, we to go to church and pray for instructions from Heavenly Father.”

  “A specific church?”

  “No, He can hear prayers in any church.”

  That part fit with the bits of information he’d obtained previously. The girls were supposed to go to church, pray, and wait. Now he understood that someone came by to collect them on the full moon, but there was a disturbing implication. “There must be thousands of churches to monitor—how many people are in your community?”

  “My people don’t monitor them.”

  She hadn’t answered the question, but he didn’t want to make her suspicious by pressing. “You can’t expect me to believe God actually speaks to the women.”

  “I don’t care what you believe,” Justine said.

  “It’s time for a walk,” Advani said.

  “But we’re not stopping for the night,” Justine said.

  “I haven’t agreed to that,” Pascal said.

  “Be reasonable,” Justine pleaded. “I explained the deadline like you asked. We have to keep going. I know how far we need to get each day, and we’re not even close.”

  “I can be reasonable,” Pascal said. “To a point. How much farther do you want to go?”

  “Bakersfield.”

  That’s useful information. Pascal opened the map. “Bakersfield’s still a long way off.”

  “Right, that’s why we can’t stop yet.”

  “Take a quick walk, then we’ll drive awhile longer,” Pascal said. “I’m not promising Bakersfield tonight. Unless you let me drive while you sleep.”

  “No deal,” Justine said.

  “It’s your call,” Pascal said.

  Justine stopped the car. Pascal cuffed her to Advani and sent them on their way.

  When they were out of sight, Pascal went behind the car and painted “Bakersfield” on the ground. He settled himself in the car and closed his eyes until he heard the women approach.

  “What’s that smell?” Justine said.

  The paint. He’d forgotten what a keen sense of smell pregnancy brought on. He should have gone farther from the car.

  “It’s nothing,” he said. He got out and uncuffed the women. “I knocked over a can of some chemical when I went to empty my bladder.” He returned to his side of the car and got in.

  Justine climbed into the driver’s seat while Advani resumed her place in back.

  “Turn away, please,” Justine said.

  Pascal faced the window while Justine entered numbers on the keypad. He hoped Advani had sense enough to try to see the code.

  One Hundred Thirty-One

  Oakley, California

  Reid was glad to be back on dry ground. To keep the peace with Nikolai, he’d kept his eyes closed for the bulk of the journey, pretending to sleep, but the resulting motion sickness made him wish he’d found some other way. He understood Nikolai didn’t think it was his place to interfere with Will’s decisions, but Reid didn’t agree.

  “We’d help you set up a night camp,” Nikolai said, “but we’re already cutting it close if we’re going to make it home before dark, even going with the wind.”

  “That’s okay. I’d like to cover more ground before dark anyway.” Brandt looked at Reid. “If you’re up for it.”

  Reid nodded.

  Friday grinned and handed Brandt a string of fish. He bowed, then returned to where he’d tied the boat to a half-submerged pier.

  “Thank you, Captain,” Brandt said.

  Nikolai clasped his hand and pulled him into a hug.

  Brandt laughed, struggling with his pack and string of fish.

  “Thank you,” Reid said, extending his hand to Nikolai.

  Nikolai grasped his hand and held onto it, staring at him. The pause had become awkward when he finally spoke.

  “I’ll speak to Will, if you want me to.”

  “Yes! Thank you—”

  “Wait,” Nikolai said, squeezing his hand. “I want you to be certain.”

  “If you can spare Will the pain—”

  “I’ve tried before to spare my loved ones pain,” Nikolai said. “But pain is inevitable. It’s an inextricable part of living. It’s how we learn. How we grow. To protect my children from pain would be more of a disservice than outright killing them. Because it is only through experiencing pain and adversity that we become human. That we become alive.”

  “But—”

  “Who were you before you met Mia, and who are you now? I don’t mean what you felt or what you lost, but how it changed you. Would you be who you are without pain?”

  “I don’t know.” Reid tried to pull his hand from Nikolai’s grasp, but Nikolai held firm. Reid didn’t like to admit Nikolai was right, but he was. He swallowed and nodded.

  Nikolai pulled him into a hug, thumping him firmly on the back with his other hand. “It’s
been good to know you.”

  “Thanks,” Reid said. “For everything.”

  Nikolai stood back. “My friends, I wish you neither fur nor feather.”

  “What?” Brandt exclaimed. “What does that mean?”

  “I have no idea,” Nikolai said, chuckling. “My father always said it for luck. I hope you find what you seek. Be safe and be well.”

  Reid and Brandt watched the boat sail out of sight.

  “That was intense,” Brandt said. “You still up for walking?”

  “Absolutely.” He’d had his fill of talking. It was time to get moving.

  One Hundred Thirty-Two

  Grapevine, California

  At dusk Justine drove into a tiny town with a sign proclaiming “Grapevine.”

  The mountains were much steeper than Pascal had anticipated. It would be tough-going for the Travelers, especially in the dark. He needed to give them time to catch up.

  “We’re stopping here for the night,” he said.

  “But it’s not much farther to Bakersfield,” Justine said.

  “You need a hot meal and a bed for the baby’s sake,” Advani said.

  “I am willing to revisit my earlier offer,” Pascal said. “If I drive, we can continue to Bakersfield after dinner.”

  “No,” Justine said.

  “Then stop in that parking lot. There’s a convenience store, a restaurant, and a motel. Everything we need for the night.”

  Justine sighed and exited the highway. She turned off the engine in front of the motel and handed the key to Pascal.

  “Advani, find two adjoining rooms while Justine and I stretch our legs.” Pascal nodded and Advani nodded back, indicating she knew what must be done.

  “What, no handcuffs?” Justine asked.

  “Do you need them?”

  She was silent.

  “Shall we peruse the convenience store?” Pascal asked. “We have plenty of supplies, but there might be something useful or interesting.”

  Justine shrugged.

  “Where’s your spirit of adventure?” Pascal continued. “How about a hat that says ‘Grapevine’?”

  “That’s not allowed at home.”

  He hadn’t been fishing for information, but this was interesting. “Why not?”

  “Missionaries can’t bring back souvenirs. We’re not allowed to talk about anything that happened on our missions, or even reveal where we served.”

  “That seems odd,” Pascal said, passing the entrance to the convenience store.

  “The elders say it’s because the only important lessons are those we’ve internalized. Charity, generosity, appreciation. Not physical things. But I think it’s more than that. They’re trying to keep the community separate from the outside world to preserve our way of life.”

  Pascal processed this. Their leaders kept them isolated, insulated. Not dissimilar to how he ran Lost Angeles. “Do you agree with that?”

  “Yes and no. On the one hand, I don’t believe our people are the only ones deserving of seeds and animals. But on the other hand, after seeing what I’ve seen, I know better than to mix your world with mine. Mine would disappear.”

  “I can respect that,” Pascal said. “I promise to keep our worlds separate, so long as I get the resources I need for my people. But there’s something I’m not clear about. How can you promise me seeds when your leaders are so dead-set against sharing with outsiders?”

  “Let’s say I have good reason.”

  “Not good enough.” Pascal stopped. He resisted the urge to yank Justine around to face him, and instead waited for her to stop on her own. When she did, he continued. “I’ve agreed to go into your community impaired by drugs and unarmed. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask how I’m going to get out alive with the items you’ve promised.”

  “My people are entirely nonviolent. That’s why we go to such extremes to keep our location secret. There are no weapons or military. You’ll be fine.”

  That jived with what other missionaries had told him. If true, that would make taking over far easier. But the more he could learn, the better. “So even if they don’t kill me, what’s to keep them from locking me up? I can’t imagine they’ll simply load me up with seeds and send me back to Lost Angeles with their blessings.”

  Justine folded her arms and chewed on her lip. Pascal waited.

  “Okay,” she said. “The truth is, I’m not a missionary.”

  The bottom dropped out of Pascal’s stomach. “What do you mean?”

  “You were right about me being different,” Justine continued. “My father is the Prophet, the leader of my people. Because of that, I didn’t need to go on a mission to find a husband—I was supposed to marry an important man in our community. I did not leave my home willingly. I was kidnapped. My father will be so happy you brought me home, he’ll give you anything.”

  This was an interesting twist. “Who kidnapped you? Was it someone from the outside?”

  “No, one of our own elders. He said he loved me and that Heavenly Father meant for us to be together. But he was married, and divorce isn’t allowed.”

  “Did you share his feelings?”

  “No! He was like a grizzled old uncle. Kind, harmless. I trusted him. I had no idea he had feelings for me, so it was easy for him to slip me the herb we use for the missionary rituals. It put me in a trance and he led me away from my parents, my friends, my home, from everything I’d ever known. And I have no memory of him doing it. The next thing I knew, I was in a strange house in bed with him naked on top of me.”

  “How terrible.”

  “You can’t imagine. All I ever thought about was getting away from him. He never left me alone, but even if he had, I had no idea how to get back home. If I was ever going to see my family again, I had to gain his trust. So I made him believe I loved him. Eventually, he told me things. Things that are kept secret from our women about the elders and the missions and the rituals. That’s how I know things missionaries don’t.”

  “He told you how to get home?”

  Justine shook her head, a far-away look in her eyes. “No, but he told me where the meeting is on the full moon. That’s why it’s so important we make it on time. I don’t know where to go from there, and I can’t wait a month with Brandt thinking I’m dead.” Justine stared blankly into the night sky, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “We’ll make it there on time, Justine,” he said. “Out of curiosity, how did you end up in Lost Angeles? Obviously you escaped from that man and went to the meeting place. What happened? Why didn’t you return home?”

  “I never went to the meeting place. I couldn’t. Not after what I’d done.”

  “Because you’d pretended to love him?”

  Her focus came back to him, and she locked her gaze on his. “Because I killed him.”

  One Hundred Thirty-Three

  Knightsen, California

  Reid and Brandt walked as long as they could, only stopping when it grew too dark to continue safely. The ground was dry and the sky was clear, so they set up camp outside in a rural area rather than in a house.

  They hadn’t seen any sign of other people. Still, they scanned for lights before building a small fire, and kept their guns at hand.

  Brandt gutted the fish, skewered them on sharpened sticks, and handed one to Reid. They held them over the flames.

  Neither had said much since they’d parted ways with Nikolai. Reid welcomed the quiet—he’d hardly had a moment to himself since he left the Mountain—but he did wonder if Brandt was giving him space, or if something was bothering him.

  Reid picked all the fish off the bones, then ate an apple before laying his bedroll near the fire. He stretched, using his coat for cover, and keeping his boots on to be safe.

  Brandt sat staring at the fire.

  “Wake me when it’s my turn for the watch,” Reid said.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I lied
about Justine’s people.”

  What the hell? Why did everyone lie to him? He took a breath and tried to sound calm. “They don’t have seeds?”

  “No, they have seeds. I lied about not knowing where they are.”

  “What?” Reid bolted upright. “That’s great!”

  “There is a catch. A big one.”

  “Okay.” How bad could it be? There were seeds, and Brandt knew how to find them.

  “If Justine’s people see you, they won’t let you leave. Justine and I figured we’d give you and Mia the choice before it was too late. You could either come with us, knowing you could never leave. Or you could go back to Colorado without seeds.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Couldn’t take the risk word would get out and someone would follow. I don’t want anyone else to die.”

  “But people are going to die, Brandt. The people who don’t have fish and seaweed and apples need those seeds.” He thought of Kayla, and the baby, and his grandmother, and all the others in Colorado, New Mexico, and who knew where else. “We have to go back to Sausalito and get help. There’s too much at stake not to. We’ll try to get Justine’s people to see reason first, but if they don’t, we’ll have the numbers to take the seeds by force.”

  “I agree about the seeds, but I don’t want any more bloodshed. I think I have a way that no one else has to die.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Justine didn’t leave home like other missionaries. She fell in love with a married man, and they escaped so they could be together. They were on their own for about a year, then when he died, she didn’t want to go back home. That’s when she came to Lost Angeles.”

  “I don’t understand how this helps.”

  “She escaped, and she told me how. Once I’m in the compound, I know how to sneak back out with seeds. Then you take some to Colorado, and I take some to San Francisco. No one else ever knows where the seeds came from.”

  “What if those seeds die, or they aren’t the right ones?”

  “Then we come back with force. But not before.”

  Reid wanted to like the plan, but it was too much of a risk. “No. If we don’t make it, the location of the seeds dies with us. We’d be risking everyone’s future, not just our own.”