Badlands: A Post-Apocalyptic Journey

by Nathan Jones

  She'd already seen that beneath his brooding silences there was more to him, glimpses of humor and even playfulness. She wondered what it would be like to tease those moments out of him. And she had to admit she could get used to his silent, contemplative moments, especially if he was holding her in his arms.

  Kristy flushed at the thought and tore her eyes from the man walking twenty feet ahead. She was being stupid; they had nothing in common, and even if they did his lifestyle didn't really appeal to her. After her conversation with him last night she doubted he'd ever want to change for her, and even if he did he wouldn't be happy about it.

  It was just a pipe dream, a man and woman forming an inevitable bond while facing harsh conditions together, and she was finding excuses to see something that wasn't there because of it.

  Even more so because Tom himself hadn't seemed to show the same interest in her; she never caught him looking at her the way she looked at him, or for that matter the way Simon had openly ogled her at every opportunity. He didn't look at her much at all, really, and he'd made no attempt to flirt.

  He'd been friendly, sure, even open about his past, but he rarely volunteered anything about himself. And while he'd shown interest in hers and Skyler's lives in return there didn't seem to be more behind it than simple polite curiosity.

  Then again, maybe she was just so accustomed to Simon's aggressiveness that anything less than stolen kisses and getting handsy seemed like disinterest. To be honest looking back on her time spent with the redheaded man, her biggest complaint was how relentlessly focused he'd been on the physical, especially in inappropriate situations. She found herself wondering if he actually did care about her beyond the desire to get in her pants, like so many had accused him of.

  But whatever the situation with Simon had been, when it came to Tom she'd probably find herself waiting a long time for any sign of open affection from him, even so much as wanting to hold hands or share a hug. And she did crave that affection, at the proper place and time. Something like what she'd had with Miles, which of course hadn't been perfect but had been pretty close.

  But maybe the affection would come with familiarity, the same way his moments of humor and playfulness seemed to occur more and more often the more time they spent with him. Maybe once he was more comfortable with her he'd show the same intensity there as in the rest of his life.

  Or maybe this was all just stupid fancy.

  Kristy shook her head irritably. Besides, what sort of loyalty would it show to Miles to fall for every man she'd really gotten to know after him, with him gone only a few months? He'd been the world to her, in many ways still was in spite of all that had happened, and she seemed to toss her heart at the feet of anyone she spent more than five minutes with.

  She wished her husband was here with her now.

  And for that matter what loyalty did it show to Simon? He was still alive, and one of the biggest reasons she was going to Texas was to try to get help for him and other members of the convoy. Even considering his last words to her she still missed him, and felt like she was giving up on him even acknowledging the fact that she might be interested in anyone else.

  How would he react, if she were to see him again only to confess she'd become interested in the mountain man in the few weeks they'd been separated?

  With effort Kristy turned her thoughts away from her feelings about Tom, her grief for Miles, and her guilt-ridden worry for Simon. Instead she turned her mind back to the direction her conversation with the mountain man had turned just before he'd walked off last night.

  What had he meant, his family hadn't starved? She could've sworn he'd told her that during the shortages his community had revolted due to the greed of its leaders and the starvation and suffering of the people. He'd also told her his family had been with him there before he'd headed for the hills, and from the sounds of things he'd left alone.

  Had he abandoned them? Kristy hadn't known him back then, of course, but she flat out couldn't believe that a man who'd risk his life to save her and Skyler, and get them safely to Newpost against his own best interests, would just leave his family when things got tough and go off on his own.

  So what gave? If they hadn't starved that meant they'd still been alive, right? And if she couldn't believe he'd abandon them, what other options did that leave? Unless of course . . .

  Kristy's eyes widened, and she labored to speed up with the wagon to catch up to the two. “Skyler, honey,” she called. “You want to scout ahead while Tom helps me with something?”

  Her son gave her a delighted look. “By myself?”

  She hesitated. She wasn't sure that was what she wanted, but that's pretty much what she'd said. “Just stay in sight and listen closely for engine noises. And be careful!” Her son grinned and accepted the binoculars from Tom, then trotted off.

  Wary, the mountain man fell into step beside her. “I can pull for a bit,” he offered.

  Kristy shook her head. “I'm fine.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and took a deep breath. “Your family. You were related to one of your community leaders, weren't you? That's why they didn't starve.”

  Tom stiffened again, and for a moment she was afraid he was going to just walk off again. Then he sighed. “You're going to keep hassling me until I give you my life's story, aren't you?”

  Kristy felt a bit offended. “I don't want to pry. If you want to leave it alone I'll leave it alone, but I just wanted you to know I care. If you've got some old pains you want to let out I'm here to hear them.” She glanced sideways at his stony expression. “Or if you just want to walk without talking for a bit that's fine, too.”

  Tom kept his eyes on the horizon ahead, and almost a minute passed where she thought he was going to take her up on her offer to walk in silence. Then he sucked in a sudden ragged breath and spoke softly. “I had to leave. I tried to convince them to come with me, leave everything that was happening behind before it got even worse. But they wouldn't. When they chose to go to city hall at the end they didn't give me any other choice but to take my dad's hunting rifle and revolver and some camping gear and get out of there on my own.”

  He looked over at her, then away, gritting his teeth. “Not a day goes by where I don't wonder if I betrayed them by not going with them, even if it meant walking right into the teeth of that revolt on the wrong side of it. Maybe I deserved to face the music with them.”

  Kristy wasn't sure whether to be sympathetic or condemning; the man hadn't painted a pretty picture of what had happened in that community. “So you were a member of one of the corrupt families. The Mayor's?”

  Tom shook his head listlessly. “Deputies. My dad and older brother.” She didn't say anything or even look at him, but even so he continued defensively, voice bitter. “I didn't agree with them about taking our neighbors' food and “redistributing” it, not that they cared. I was a fat, weak coward back then, remember? They just laughed when I tried to warn them that not only was it wrong but it wouldn't work, that it just meant everyone would starve together.”

  Kristy felt bad for asking, but she had to know. “So you helped them?”

  “I ate the food they brought home, that was enough,” Tom snapped, anger warring with guilt in his expression. “I didn't ask them what they had to do to get it from our neighbors. But I saw. More than I wanted to. And when I tried to confront them about it things got ugly. Even my mom and sister didn't take my side. They might've felt bad about it but they were behind the Mayor and the rest of the town when his plan was first presented, and when things started to get worse they still went along because they wanted to eat.”

  “Or maybe they just didn't want to see what was happening,” Kristy suggested gently.

  “Maybe.” He clenched his fists at his sides. “Maybe it was just me who stayed, who tacitly supported it by doing nothing, because I was afraid to starve. Even if it made our family thieves. Either way I stopped arguing and ate what they gave me. Told myself at least I wasn't doin
g anything wrong.”

  Kristy regretted asking about this. It was nice to know Tom was human, that he'd suffered through the same desperation she had during the shortages and after the Ultimatum, and regretted some of the things he'd done. But at the same time she didn't like what he was admitting to; even if he hadn't liked what was happening he hadn't tried to stop it.

  It wasn't a light she liked looking at him in.

  “What about when you left?” she asked quietly, not sure she was able to completely keep the judgment out of her tone. “Did you just go because you knew the revolt wasn't going to go the Mayor's way?”

  Tom shot her a wounded look. “Not entirely. The massacre that triggered the revolt had happened earlier that afternoon, and that was when I decided to leave. The Mayor was calling for everyone on his side to gather at city hall for protection, but I begged my family to go with me instead. Tried to warn them that whether they won or lost that fight against their own neighbors they wouldn't be able to live with themselves afterwards. My brother Nick gave me his answer in the form of a good sock to the eye and a kick to the side while I was huddled on the ground, and that's how they left me.”

  He looked forward again, voice pained. “I was outside of town, up on a hill with a good view of the community, when I saw just how bad things were getting and what was probably going to happen to everyone in city hall. It was already on fire, and our neighbors had surrounded it on all sides to prevent anyone from escaping without a serious fight. I-I left then, so I wouldn't have to see how it ended.”

  In spite of herself Kristy's heart went out to the man. She tried to imagine if it was her family, what it would be like to face that certain uncertainty about the fate of her loved ones for over ten years. “And you never went back? Never tried to find out if any of them made it?”

  He shook his head and snorted bitterly. “Never. I've been all across the Southwest, but never once made the relatively short trip up to the Utah Valley fallout zone. For all I know after I left everyone might've made peace, escaped the blast together and built a new community outside the fallout radius.” From his tone it was obvious he doubted it.

  Kristy wished she could reassure him since she'd been living up in that area herself all this time, even if clear on the opposite end of the fallout zone's boundary. But he'd never told her the name of his community and she was afraid to ask. Besides, she'd never heard of any group of people among the neighbors she knew with a story like that, and didn't know of any Millers.

  All she could do was add her own ignorance of his family's fate to his, which wouldn't help.

  After a moment she let go of the cart and moved closer to put a sympathetic hand on his arm, looking up into his pained gray eyes. He couldn't meet her gaze for long, but she understood. “Thank you for telling me,” she said quietly.

  “You wanted to know.” Tom looked down at her hand, blinking quickly as if holding back tears. “If you want to judge me for it I wouldn't blame you. You'd be in good company.”

  “I am in good company,” she told him fervently. She squeezed his arm. “I don't know the Tom Miller from your story. Whoever he is, you're not him . . . probably haven't been since that night on the hill.”

  He sucked in a shuddering breath, but she noticed his shoulders straightened a bit and his bowed head lifted. “If Skyler doesn't mind keeping you company I'd like to scout on ahead for a while.”

  “That's fine.” Kristy returned to the wagon and lifted the push bar, watching the mountain man stride forward purposefully to tell her son about the change of plans.

  She watched him go, surprised to find that she didn't like him any less for hearing about his far from heroic past. Maybe even the opposite.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Arrival

  Nine more days of traveling saw the little group close enough to their destination that Tom began recognizing landmarks within a day's hike of the flourishing trading post. He was confident that if they kept up the pace they'd reach it sometime the next day.

  Newpost was southwest of the Amarillo fallout zone, only a few miles past the border between New Mexico and Texas. The change in climate since the global thermonuclear war ten years ago had seen this region getting more rain than previously, coming up from the southwest mostly.

  Even so it still wasn't the most hospitable place; the fact that it threaded the needle between three or four fallout zones and sat on the most direct feasible trade routes between Utah and Colorado and states farther east was the main thing that had justified a trading post there.

  Apparently its proximity to Mexico and the newly booming trade from Central and South America had been what really propelled it to prosperity, though. Tom doubted it would be the same small fort sitting on one of the few sources of water in the area that he'd visited previously. Now it was a beacon of hope for settlers and traders from all the surrounding states.

  Go figure.

  That change of climate was probably also what had made the nations south of the US the breadbasket they seemed to be, able to produce such a surplus of food that they could afford to ship large quantities out in trade. Which as far as Tom was concerned was a very good thing; food was always hard to come by in the Southwest, and more meant easier times for everyone.

  Unfortunately Newpost's prosperity seemed to have drawn unwanted attention as well; they were dodging vehicle patrols twice as often now, and with every passing mile he felt more and more worried about what they might find once they reached their destination.

  He kept those worries to himself, though; Kristy and Skyler seemed to become more excited the closer they got to their new life in Texas, making plans for what they'd do there. The boy even talked about joining a convoy to Central or South America when he was older, so he could see rainforests and all the animals that lived there that he'd heard about.

  When he'd found out Tom spoke Spanish he'd begged him to teach him, too, randomly interrupting a conversation to ask how to say this or that phrase someone had just said.

  For her part Kristy hadn't seemed pleased at the prospect of her son making a trip to South America, but she had been eager to learn the language since it was almost certain it'd be useful in Newpost. She'd thrown herself into it, insisting they spend entire meals speaking only Spanish, and having him spout out entire lists of translated words for her and her son to memorize and practice while they pushed the wagon.

  All in all the mood was cheerful as they set up camp, certain they'd see Newpost sometime the next day. Probably even before noon, given the progress they'd made the last few days as they drew closer to their destination.

  As the sun set Tom glanced at Kristy and wandered off to a good vantage point to watch, pleased when she joined him. Same as she had every evening since that first time they viewed it together. He wasn't sure what exactly it meant, if anything, and it was hard to glean clues from the event itself since they simply stood side by side watching as the sun sank below the brilliantly lit horizon.

  But it seemed like a good sign.

  “What are we eating with our meat tonight?” Skyler asked a few minutes later when they returned to camp. He made an exaggerated face. “Not pickled food again.”

  “Nope, we're all out of that,” Tom said cheerfully. He pointed to a nearby hill covered with cactus. “We'll be having nopal.” When the boy scrunched up his face in confusion he smiled. “Also known as paddle cactus, identifiable by its oval, paddle-like leaves.”

  “Oh.” Skyler looked doubtfully at the spiny plants. “Does it taste good?”

  “Compared to some of the stuff we've eaten?” He grinned. “I think you'll enjoy it.”

  Given their close proximity to the trading post Tom insisted they keep the fire going only long enough to cook their meal, and even then spent more time than usual finding a sheltered spot where the light wouldn't escape out into the gathering dark. The conversation over the meal was lively, mostly in Spanish at Kristy's insistence since they might need the language very soon.
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  They turned in soon after eating, since in their eagerness to finish the journey they'd pushed on later than usual to make an extra mile or two and were all exhausted.

  Tom helped Skyler set up his makeshift tent out of the leftover canvas they'd used to cover the meat drying racks, which during the day they used to protect the wagon's contents from dust as they traveled. He wasn't sure why Kristy had started insisting on her son having his own place to sleep a week or so ago, although he assumed it was an acknowledgement that the boy was growing up and she wanted him to be more independent. Either way it wasn't much trouble to rig up an extra shelter for him, and Skyler seemed happy enough having a tent of his own.

  Soon the other two headed to bed, while Tom did a last patrol circuit to make sure the camp was safe for the night.

  Only minutes into it he heard the sound of approaching engines and found cover, staying still as headlights swept across the landscape to the southeast. The bandit patrol was definitely coming from the direction of Newpost, which worried him, and once he'd assured himself that the vehicles would pass on by a safe distance away he fell into grim contemplation of what they were going to do if it turned out the trading post wasn't the safe haven they'd been hoping for.

  They'd have to head back to Grand Junction, he didn't see anything else for it. With their supplies running low that would be infinitely more difficult than this last stretch of the trip had been, but he'd have to find a way.

  With the young mother and child depending on him he didn't see he had a choice.

  When he returned to camp he found Kristy and Skyler both poking their heads out of their tents. He couldn't read their expressions in the dark, but when the young woman spoke her voice sounded worried. “The engines?”

  “Passed on by to the south,” Tom assured her, biting back a yawn. He headed over to his tent, unbuckling his pack's belts as he went. “I'll keep my ears peeled for engine noises in the night, but this terrain is rough enough I don't imagine they'll drive anywhere close to us.”