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The Event - Tales of the Triad, Book One

Page 6

by R J Murray

Chapter 6 - Get Together

  The people that Christine had joined didn't seem to be too interested in trying to get themselves any more organized than they had to. Gary and Charlie were not too happy with these people, but what could they do, shoot them? When they needed food, some of the people would go and loot a shop, until the water got too deep. After that Christine and Gary or Charlie would go hunting, or a few people would set out trot lines, since they were less work than anything else.

  This time Gary and Christine were heading to one of the larger islands where deer and wild hogs still roamed. Gary was rowing and Christine was sitting in the back with Tricia in one of the small boats they had been using to get around since the area flooded.

  Gary had taken to Tricia immediately. After making amends with Christine he spent most of his time working with them around the camp. Christine and Tricia became a surrogate family to him and they bonded quickly, so today was not unusual. Tricia was talking, which was not unusual either, but Christine was still thinking about that feeling she had that morning, the feeling that someone was breathing down her neck. Tricia, tired of being ignored, punched Christine in the arm.

  “Ow! What was that for?”

  “Look!” Tricia pointed. Christine and Gary followed her finger. There, coming around the edge of the island they were headed for, was a boat moving under its own power, no oars or sails visible. Gary stopped rowing and they watched as the boat came closer. Christine checked the rifle she had, but kept it down below the edge of the boat, so it wouldn't be seen.

  When the other boat was about ten yards away Tricia waved and called out to the man on the boat. He waved back and the boat slowed down until it was only a few feet away before it came to a stop. Christine looked him over and was a little concerned. He looked like one of those people from an end of the world movie and not one of the normal ones, either. He had on a wide brimmed hat, leather trench coat, and boots with more brass buckles then she thought could possibly be needed.

  She found herself wondering if he had more stuff like that in black and shook her head to settle her thoughts. It is the end of the world, not just a movie and she would never have been caught dead wearing what she was wearing now, then. She was confusing herself and tried to clear her mind by placing her hand on the rifle once again. It worked.

  The man looked over the three occupants of the rowboat and spoke. “Morning. Nice day for a cruise.”

  Tricia answered of course. No way would she ever pass up a chance to talk. “I like your boat mister. How does it move like that? We have to row ours. Did you come far? We haven't seen you before. What's your name? Mines Tricia.”

  The man laughed and shook his head. “Wow. Nice to meet you Tricia. My name is John and I've been traveling for awhile. I'm pleased to meet you.”

  “How do I know you?” Christine was disturbed. She was sure this man was familiar, but she had no idea how or why she felt that way.

  “Have you always had green eyes?”

  “What?” The question confused her for a moment. “No.”

  “Me neither. Of course, mine are not quite like yours. They're a little, well, strange. I'm getting used to them, but the first time I looked in a mirror, it was, like, wow, scary, didn't look like me at all. Was it like that for all of you?”

  Gary answered first. “No, not really. I felt better than I had for years and I had hair again. I feel younger.”

  Tricia was curious now. “What do you mean, younger? Younger than who?”

  Gary laughed, “Younger than me. I'm sixty three, but I feel like maybe forty or so. Didn't you tell us that Christine was older than she looks?”

  “Oh. I forgot, I did tell you that, but I'm still eight, I didn't get younger.”

  “If you had gotten much younger, you'd still be an egg.” and to John, “My name is Christine and I'm thirty-two.” She put her hand over her face in embarrassment. “Wow, I just told a strange man my age.”

  Tricia was trying to get closer to the pontoon boat and its operator and the skiff started to tip. It caught the others by surprise and they leaned back the other way to keep from tipping into the water, Christine telling Tricia to sit down. The motion made Tricia lose her balance, falling out of the boat into the water and go under. John was out of his seat and leaning over the edge of his boat before the splash fell back. When he stood up, the back of Tricia's shirt was in his hand, fortunately still containing a very surprised and dripping Tricia.

  “Oh, God! What do you think you're doing! You know better than to stand up in this boat. Are you all right?”

  Choking a little from a large drink of lake, Tricia just nodded. John had a towel out of his bag and was wrapping the drenched girl in it even as Christine was reacting. Gary started to paddle over to the other boat, then stopped and said, “If we try to put her aboard out here, we may have another accident. Would you mind meeting us over at that island?” He pointed to the island they were headed for before they met John.

  “Sure, not a problem. And you,” he pointed at Tricia, and in a mock stern voice said, “SIT THERE.” He pointed at a spot next to the section of safety rail he had left on the boat to strap his supplies to. Tricia looked at him for a moment, saw his smile and grinned back at him. With a small curtsy, she sat down at the appointed spot, one arm wrapped through the rail. She turned back to Christine in time to see John's hat sink beneath the surface, lost when he jumped for her. She turned back to watch John sit down at the controls.

  “I'm sorry about your hat.”

  “Don't sweat it. I have more back at my base camp. I wasn't sure I liked that one anyway, but it did keep the sun out of my face.” John touched the controls, pushing the joy stick to the left.

  At first Gary and Christine were alarmed by John heading away from the island, but then they realized that if he had turned right he would have run them over. Gary started rowing again, both he and Christine watching as the boat moved smoothly through the water without any effort from John.

  “How is he doing that? I don't hear a motor or anything, except you and the oars.”

  “I haven't got a clue. I don't know why you can fire that rifle either, but I know you can. Maybe he can make things work, too. I guess we'll ask him, after we chat for a spell.”

  “I don't like Tricia being away from me. Stay as close to that boat as you can.”

  Gary raised an eyebrow. He didn't like Tricia being on a boat with a man they had just met either and the fact that his boat was so much faster than theirs made it worse. The pontoon boat was going against the wind three times as fast as Gary's best speed. Almost as though he was reading their minds, John slowed down, reversed the boat and they both breathed a sigh of relief.

  When they caught up with him, he asked if they wanted a tow. Grateful, Christine tied the boat to a deck cleat next to the rail Tricia was gripping. Tricia hugged the towel around her shoulders, leaned down closer to Christine and said “His eyes are really neat. They're all different colors, not just green. Do you think he's magic, like you?”

  Christine gave her a look. “I'm not magic and you need to stop talking to strangers. I don't think it's as safe and easy as you act, meeting strange people like this. You can never know what will happen.” She reached up and put her hand on the girls face. “I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you. Please be more careful.”

  Tricia looked crestfallen for a very short time, then giggled and nodded. “I'll try. I'm sorry I scared you.”

  They sat in silence, Gary watching the two of them, keeping an eye on John, while trying to see how the boat was being propelled so quickly and quietly through the water. After a time, he quit watching the boat and watched the two girls, who were holding each other’s hand, until the pontoon boat nosed up onto the shore.

  After the other two were aboard the pontoon boat and reunited with Tricia, John said, “Nice coat, looks good on you. Of course, I prefer browns, myself. If you don't mind my asking, where were you going?”

  �
��Thanks. I like your boots.” Christine caught herself and answered his question. “We were going hunting. We need fresh meat.”

  John pulled a blanket off of a wild hog in the bow of the pontoon boat. “Can I contribute this?”

  The three looked at each other and smiled. “Why not. You want to follow us; we'll take you to our camp.”

  “Might be faster if I took you. You can tie the john boat astern.”

  “No thanks. Just keep up with us.”

  Gary stepped off the pontoon boat onto the land, and pulled the john boat up to the shore so the other two could step in. He watched as John stood there for a moment, shaking his head. “You sure you won't change your minds.”

  Gary looked at the other two, considering the row back to base. The fact was that no matter what they did, John could go a lot faster, therefore, they wouldn't be able to slip away. Gary was feeling protective toward the two girls, who he now considered family. John could follow them back to camp no matter what they did. If they were aboard with him, it might be safer than having the three of them at his mercy in the smaller john boat. He nodded to Christine and they tied their smaller boat to the aft deck cleat of the pontoon boat.

  On their way, they all talked, but no one actually said anything. Christine did get a look at his eyes and they were disturbing. If she had seen them before, she might not have gotten on this boat. They changed colors as he moved his hands over the peculiar controls of the boat, now green, then golden or purple, never quite settling on one color, but always with a greenish tint.

  The boat had no motor and there was no rudder, but it moved and John could steer it without any problems. Christine was sure that it could go a lot faster than they were moving now and was sure that John was holding back, just like they were, not giving everything away until he felt them out and knew their intentions. Then John surprised her.

  “Christine, I've been going for some time now. Would you want to give me a break and steer for awhile?” Christine was surprised, but more than willing. John told her how to steer and said to leave the throttle alone for now, until she got used to the feel, then he got up and gave her control of the boat. He watched for a minute, then sat beside Gary and Tricia and talked with them, not giving Christine another look.

  Christine found the controls to be simple and easy enough to use, being a simple T-stick for steering, a throttle lever with a small brass plate bent over the top of the handle and four more brass plates on the console, two of them with an L inscribed on them. The stick had leather wrapped around the top foot and also had a small brass plate on the very top. Strangely, there were two foot pedals under the console and she couldn't figure out what they could be used for. She didn't try them, as the boat was riding smoothly across the water and she didn't want to risk making John angry for maybe breaking his boat. She decided that a pontoon boat was their next acquisition, as long as John would show them how it worked.

  She could hear Tricia giggling, but didn't turn around to look, since Gary was with her. She did wonder what John was saying, as she couldn't quite understand the words. After about twenty minutes the camp came in sight so she called John to take over for the landing. The boat went surprisingly far onto the shore before John shut it down.

  “Can you get off again? It went up a long way.”

  “No problem. I would rather make sure it doesn't drift away and that it gets anchored solidly. Safer that way.”

  Gary and John pulled the smaller boat around the deck as Christine and Tricia led the way through the trees. When they arrived at the camp, Gary waved John in the direction that the two girls were moving. He turned to a couple of other men and the three of them went back to get the hog, while John followed the girls. John saw an older woman, perhaps forty, with short blond hair and a stocky build meet with the two girls. Christine pointed back at John and the older woman motioned him to join them.

  “I'm Charlie and I understand you're supplying supper. We appreciate it and you're welcome to stay the night, if you like.”

  “Only the night? I'm deeply hurt.” He pouted slightly.

  Christine and Charlie both eyed him coldly. “Maybe you'd like to come clean on why you're here and how that boat works, before you get too huffy with us.”

  Christine had her hand over Tricia's mouth, lightly. “No talking. This is grown up business. Shush.”

  John smiled. “I don't think I know you well enough either and I understand your caution. Look at it from where I'm standing. There are how many of you? There's only one of me. Christine carries a gun and I'm not, I'm putting a boat where if you wanted it bad enough, you could just shoot me and take it. I know that you can work it because Christine drove it here. I've put almost all the advantages in your court, just to put you at ease, just so I could meet you. I'm not being huffy and I haven't even heard that word in twenty years, by the way. I need you. I'm alone and while I have resources you could use, you don't seem to be doing too bad right now. What do you say we cut the crap and palaver a bit?”

  “That true, Christine?”

  “Yes. I drove the boat. It was a boat and I moved the controls and it went where I pointed it. I have no idea how and I would like to know why you let me drive it instead of Gary.”

  Tricia got out from under Christine hand long enough to blurt out, “Cause Gary can't make it work.”

  The adults looked at her, Christine raising a finger.

  “Please,” asked John. “I'd like to hear what she has to say. What makes you think Gary can't work the controls?”

  “Because I can't either. When you were talking at the island, I tried. Nothing happened. It's green eyed magic.”

  Charlie snorted. “Kids. They come up with some stuff, don't they? Maybe John took the key out when you didn't see. Maybe he has a kill switch under the seat or something. There are lots of reasons why you might not be able to start the boat, Tricia, that have nothing to do with magic or eyes or pixies either.”

  “Tricia might be right.”

  Everyone now turned to Gary, who had returned and was listening to the conversation. “I didn't find a key or a switch. All I found were some brass plates and a joy stick. The wires just run straight down under the deck. No motor, nothing in the water, no rudder, just the pontoons and a round globe under the center of the deck. Well, actually there was one switch under the dash, but it didn't do anything.”

  “I'm not sure what it does either. It was there when I got the boat and I just never took it out. How's the hog coming?” John asked.

  “What?” Charlie was surprised by the question.

  “The hog. Supper? I was invited, wasn't I?”

  Christine looked at Charlie. “I don't think this is getting us anywhere.” She looked at John. “What do you want?”

  “Supper. You don't have a fire going yet. Don't you need hot water to dress the hog?”

  Charlie sighed and decided to play along. “You are really irritating, you know that? Yes, but it takes a while to get a fire going. They're getting shavings and kindling ready, then I'll use this,” holding up a leather pouch, “and start the fire.”

  “Flint and steel. I've used it before and I'm pretty good at it, but if you don't mind, this is a lot easier.” He reached into his coat and every one tensed. “Relax. Just going to start a fire for supper.”

  They watched as he pulled out a thin wood and brass rod with an ornately carved handle and pointed it at the wood pile. A small, bright red, scintillating fireball flew lazily from the end of the rod and hit the wood, which immediately burst into flame. John smiled and calmly flipped the rod, holding the handle out to Charlie.

  “Almost all the advantages. I held a couple of things in reserve, like this little rod gizmo.”

  Most of the people in the camp started backing away from John, looking for something to get behind. Tricia was jumping and giggling and generally acting like a kid.

  “I told you it was magic! I told you!” Christine was trying to pull her back and put herself in betw
een Tricia and John.

  Charlie reached for the rod, and hesitated. “Give it to Christine. Please. Just for a minute, then you can have it back.”

  “Green eye magic?” John smiled and handed the butt end to Christine. “Don't touch the copper plate and DON'T point it at anything you want to keep or anyone you want to live.”

  Christine hesitated for a second then reached out and took the rod between finger and thumb, careful to only touch wood. She looked at Charlie, then at John, noticing that everyone in camp was watching to see what she would do with the rod.

  John looked around and smiled at the audience. To Christine he said, “Don't you love being the center of attention?” She looked at him blankly. He shrugged, and said, “A little shell shocked? It's OK, just listen and smile pretty. When I finish telling you what to do, only then will you touch the copper plate. First pick a target, then aim the rod. Third, get a mental picture of what I did, hold that thought and very briefly but also firmly, touch the plate, then get your finger off the plate.”

  “So I don't want to hold my finger on the plate but like count one thousand and one and let go? Wait, what do mean, smile pretty? You are really confusing?”

  “It's a defense mechanism. It works pretty well, don't you think? Do you understand the instructions? Do I need to repeat anything?”

  “I think I got it. Why don't you want me to hold my finger on the plate and then think fire? Is there some danger?”

  “Yes. It gets hot fast and I've got the blisters to prove it.” John took off his left glove and held up his hand, still showing angry red scar tissue from some of his first experiments.

  “Ouch. That looks like it hurt. Actually, it looks like it still hurts. Well, here I go.” Christine pointed the rod at a stump near the overhanging rock face. Then she put her other hand on the rod, closed her eyes for a second, opened them and touched the plate. A ball of fire about twice the size of John's slammed into the stump, which exploded violently into ash and flame. When the smoke cleared, everyone was on the ground with their head buried in the dirt except for Christine and John. There was a hole several feet deep where the stump had been, with the earth fused into glass.

  John brushed ashes from his shirt and said, “Next time think smaller, gentler and get a little more room. You OK?”

  “Uh... Ya, I think so.” Christine was looking at herself, checking arms and legs and counting her fingers.

  Tricia was the first one up, running to Christine and throwing her arms around the girl’s waist. “I told you it was green eyed magic! You're a Wizard, or is it a witch? Whatever, you're magic, aren't you? And so are you mister! Can you show me how to do it too?”

  “I think it's time we had a talk before we go any further, Christine. It's not magic, but it is something that didn't exist before...” John held his arms out to the side at shoulder level and waved them around the camp. “THIS happened. At least I don't think it did. I think some of us have developed certain skills, a gene, which when combined with naturally occurring elements, like I built into that rod, can make things happen. Tricia, I can't teach this. I can share what I have learned and that isn't very much, but if you don't have the gene, you just can't do this. I'm sorry; I know that it's a disappointment to you.”

  Tricia was crestfallen, but she didn't let go of Christine.

  “But Christine can use that, rod? You don't call it a wand?”

  John rolled his eyes at Charlie. “I'm fighting the rod thing right now. If I could figure out how, I'd make it a cube or something. A rod is just so much handier. I refuse to call it a wand. It's NOT magic, it's a technique. I am NOT Harry what's his face!”

  “Pretty hung up on that, are we?” Charlie grinned. “You said naturally occurring elements. You're not talking about crystal power are you?”

  John glared at her.

  “You are, aren't you? Did you work pyramid power and ancient astronauts into it also?”

  “Give me the rod. I'm going to toast her buns.” John held out his hand while Christine gripped the rod tightly and backed away, not sure how serious he was.

  “Hey, I'm sorry. I couldn't resist. I think that stuff is bunk too, but the look on your face was just too much. Really, I couldn't resist.” She looked around the camp and noticed that almost everyone had backed up a few more feet from the four of them. “People, come on, get a grip, we're just having fun. John's OK. This is a good thing. It's a little strange, but it's a good thing. Come on back and say hi. I think I'm taking this really well, don't you?”

  John smiled and nodded. “About as well as I did at first. It's tough to get your mind around.”

  Christine walked over to John, Tricia still clinging and trying to touch the rod. “Here you go.” she said, holding the rod out to him. He opened his coat and showed her two more in a deep pocket.

  “Keep it and practice with it. Carefully.” He looked at Tricia. “You can't use it. You couldn't make the boat work and you can't make this work. But, you can break it. If you break it, what will you do? What will Charlie do to you? How will you feel, knowing that everyone will suffer because you couldn't resist messing around with this. Would you play with that rifle Christine carries?”

  “No. But that's 'cause the rifle is dangerous.”

  John looked at Tricia, shaking his head and frowning. “You don't think what she did to that stump makes this dangerous?” Then he took a rod from his pocket and pointed it at the rock wall, some distance from the stacks of supplies. He winked at Christine, but in a serious tone said, “Fire in the hole! Back up and take cover.”

  Everyone, including Christine dragging Tricia with her, ducked behind something. John waited for them to stop moving and fired. A wide green and yellow bolt of energy played across the face of the hollow in the rock face. Chunks of rock blew out and landed around the campsite while the noise it generated was overpowering and horrible, grinding on their bones.

  Tricia screamed and covered her ears, as did everyone else. Christine continued to look around the tree she was behind, but had one hand to her ear, the other hand holding Tricia. When John stopped firing the screaming continued for a few seconds, people not quite realizing it was over. The rock face was hollowed out deep into the wall, almost twenty feet wide and forty deep. The edges of the new cave glowed red from the heat.

  People slowly poked their heads up from cover to see if it was over. The sound made by the beam couldn't actually be heard, but affected the nervous system directly, rendering people helpless for several seconds after the beam stopped.

  “Would you say that the rod was dangerous Tricia or is it a toy? This is not a game; this is our lives, our survival. I do not intend to be the last man on earth because someone is not serious about this, even if that someone is a child. It's OK to play, but not if it risks your life or the life of a friend.” John spoke gently but with firmness in his voice.

  “I take it that the lesson is over?” Charlie asked, coming out from behind the tree.

  “Sorry Charlie. Yes, the lesson is over.”

  “You like those little word plays, don't you? Nice cave. Took about three seconds to vaporize a few tons of rock. Tricia, if I catch you or anyone except Christine touching one of those rods, I will show you just why I am in charge and you will regret every moment of it. You all understand? Nobody touches that.” She pointed at the rod, still in Christine's hand.

  Tricia, wide eyed and actually quiet for a few seconds, just nodded.

  “What's worse is that I've only been experimenting with these things for a few weeks. I don't know what else they can do, so I can't warn you about all the possible dangers. I just don't know what they are.”

  “This is why you did this little demo, so we wouldn’t just think it was a cigarette lighter. Maybe you're not nuts. Well, not completely nuts, anyway. Yes, when you did that, I was a little worried. I think I understand you a little better now. I still think you're OK, just a little deeper than I thought you were and more than a little strange. Christine
, you OK with that thing?”

  “Yes, I think so. I guess I need to work with it some, away from here. Think small and gentle, right. Why would you give this stuff away to complete strangers? You could just take over if you wanted to and we couldn't stop you.”

  “Yeah. Well, I have a hard time sleeping with my eyes open and if I did that, took over by force or kept tools from people who could help me and themselves, that's exactly what I would have to do. Friends are better than enemies and right now, I could really use a few friends. I don't think very many people survived this and we are going to need each other if we want to survive. Also, I feel like you can be trusted and I trust my feelings about people. I've got something else for you, if you want it.”

  “Shit. I'm afraid to ask.”

  “Let’s sit down by the fire. Put the rod away in this. Leather tends to insulate the crystals in the rod. That's why I carry these in this.” He held out a small pouch with a flap tied closed.

  Gary nodded, thinking out loud, “The leather running from the console through the deck and under the brass discs. Its insulation isn't it? How do you keep the water out?”

  “Bees wax and paraffin is all I've got right now. It seems to be working alright so far. If you have anything better, let me know, will you?” Gary nodded while taking Tricia by the hand and sitting on a log with her close to Christine. Others gathered around and a few went about the business of preparing the hog or other duties around the camp. Most tried to stay close enough to see or hear, but sufficiently far away to escape a potential disaster. Christine put the rod in the bag and tied it to her belt before taking the small leather bag from John. When she had it John said, “Open, but don't touch. This is a communication device, sort of.”

  Christine just waited without saying a word.

  John continued. “If I touch both crystals at the same time, while they touch each other, I can see visions. I don't mean mystic garbage; I mean I can see places far away and people in them. I used these to find you.”

  “I felt someone watching me earlier in the day. That was you.”

  “About breakfast time. You, Tricia and Charlie around the fire.”

  “Huh. You watch much?” Christine asked in a suspicious tone, wondering how much of her he had seen already.

  John grinned, guessing why her tone had changed. “No. Once yesterday, when I first discovered that technique and once today when I checked your location again. I can't see the location like it was on a map, it's more like a direction, a sense of the distance and I can see what's around you. That's why I was cruising around the islands, because I knew I was close, but I wasn't sure how close. I haven't been spying on you. The second time I looked, I was sure you were looking right at me.”

  “I felt something. I couldn't see anything, though. With these, can we talk?”

  “I don't know. This is the first time I've handed them to anyone else. I have more than one pair with me, so we can experiment a bit. First, would you like to try them?”

  Christine nodded and untied the flap. Holding the pouch in her hand she brought her right thumb into contact with the two crystals and was shaken by the force of the contact. Sucking in a breath, she was aware of people, everywhere she looked, hundreds and hundreds of people. She felt hands pulling her and then she was back. John and Charlie had a hold of her and had pulled the crystals out of her hand. “What happened? That affected you a lot more than it did me. What did you see?”

  “People, thousands of them, everywhere! It was like they were all shouting at me and grabbing me. I couldn't get away.” she was almost sobbing.

  “Nothing like what happened to me. Let me have those for a minute. I'd like to try again.” Charlie handed them to John and he shut his eyes before he put his thumb across the pair. He saw a similar scene to what he had seen that morning. The camp he was in, Christine clearly and the others ghosts. He realized that the ones he could see clearly were probably all like Christine. He looked further out and saw more people and even a few he hadn't seen before, possibly because he was closer to them. He was under control at all times.

  He felt Christine move next to him and felt her hand on his and suddenly she was there with him. It was incredible. The power levels multiplied a hundred times what they were with him alone and he fought for control. It was touch and go for a moment, then he heard Christine speaking. “This is better. Are you doing something?”

  “Yes, small and gentle, think small and gentle. You are much stronger than I am at this. I'm having to fight to keep control. Let's head toward the closest group you saw.”

  The view changed from chaos to a long shot of the countryside, somewhere, then changed to open country and trees as John manipulated the energy through the crystals. Damaged buildings appeared below them and several small fires with figures around them. They got closer and saw about fifty people gathered together eating and talking. They were all just normal people, yet with Christine helping, John could see them clearly. This group was less than fifty miles west of the island.

  They were organized and supplied and John could see tents with red crosses on them, army trucks and troops. Together they scanned the crowds for officers or people who looked like they were in charge. They found a Sergeant. “I can't do this much more,” He was saying to an older civilian, his voice clear. “We haven't got the resources to last more than a month and the water is getting closer. We can't run with this many injured and we have no communication, no transportation and no help coming. I'm open to suggestions.”

  The older man sat still for a few minutes before he spoke. “What about the messengers we sent out. Have we heard anything from them?”

  “Only two of the four came back and they stopped when they hit water too deep and wide to cross.”

  “We need to move and the sooner the better. But without any knowledge of which way to go, it could be worse than staying here. Can we send anyone else out?”

  “Maybe. Hell, we have too. Be happier if we had weapons. The two we sent east and west hit water inside of two days from here and it's rising. South we had no return and north we had no return. I say we try northeast this time with two men. I'll ask for volunteers in the morning and see who we get.”

  “Better than nothing. At least it's a plan.”

  John backed off; tracing the path they would need to take to the northeast. He saw a settlement twenty miles away, dirty and rough looking. He also saw a uniformed figure tied to a tree. No, not tied, hanging. He looked dead. “You see this?”

  “Yes. So much for the scout. Poor man. Why would they do that? Never mind. Stupid question. People are animals, sometimes.”

  “We need to warn them.”

  “How. We can't get that far on foot by tomorrow and our boats won't help on the dry ground. Unless you can fly. Can you?”

  “I'm breaking contact. You need to let go of the crystals.” John felt her hand let go of his and the vision vanished, replaced with ghostly images, trees and smoke. He let go as well and realized that the entire camp was staring at them as they ate.

  “How long were we out there?”

  “About two hours. We saved you some pork and some potatoes, but we drank all the beer. I haven't been that entertained in a long time.”

  “Entertained?”

  “You two were all over each other. I was wondering how long the clothes were going to stay on.”

  “What?”

  Tricia spoke up. “It was neat. The longer you were looking at that crystal, the more you held each other. Hands first, then arms, then Christine got in your lap.”

  “What?!”

  John looked at Christine and she was red down to where her neck disappeared under her blouse and she wouldn't look at him. She had her hand over her face. She spoke in a very low voice. “When I opened my eyes, I was on your lap and we were holding each other.”

  “You did keep your clothes on. But you just kept hugging tighter the longer you were under. You couldn't tell?” Charlie chuckled, “You two loo
k pretty good together.”

  John and Christine looked at each other and blushed. “You're kidding!”

  “Nope. You two gonna adopt me when you get married?”

  “Tricia! You are in sooo much trouble.”

  Tricia, of course, giggled.

  “Let's eat first; we can always beat her later. I need to mark that camp and the base on the map so we can find it. I'll leave after we eat. Should get there in about an hour or so.”

  Christine looked at him. “It's fifty miles. How?”

  “I believe I can fly.” John sang the line from the movie.

  “You need to quit using movie lines, OK. It's really annoying and the singing wasn't that good either.”

  “Eat, then I'll show you. I didn't get more than ghostly shapes when I used the crystals. You added a lot of definition and just raw power to them.”

  “I wonder why?”

  “Maybe you have a talent for these crystals and I don't. We'll figure it out. Were we actually talking or was it mental contact?”

  “Mental I think. They couldn't hear us talking and I know we did so . . . ?” Christine shrugged, unsure.

  The hog was good and John enjoyed the meal, the first in weeks that he wasn't alone. They talked about what they had seen with the others and about what John wanted to do. They still didn't quite understand how he was intending to do it, but they were waiting patiently for his next magic trick.

  Finally John led the way down to his pontoon boat and, stepping over to the console, he lifted the boat about fifteen feet into the air. “Want to come?”

  Christine nodded and John sat the boat back down on the shore. The crowd was once again moving back slowly and looking nervous as Charlie put a hand on Christine's arm. “You sure about going with him?”

  Christine nodded. “I felt like he could be trusted when we were, uh, with the crystals, you know. It'll be fine. We'll be back in a few hours.” She got on and Tricia jumped aboard as well. “You stay here.”

  “I want to go with you.”

  “It might be dangerous.”

  “Please don't leave me.” She started to tear up.

  Christine looked at John, who shrugged and lifted the boat into the air. Waving to Charlie, he started moving east, lifting to about a thousand feet, then taking it up to fifty mph and holding it there. “You might want to watch how this works, just in case.”

  “In case of what?” Tricia was in the middle again.

  “In case she needs to fly this while I'm doing something else. SIT. THERE. Be quiet for a minute, while I explain this to Christine. You listen too, in case she needs your help, got it munchkin?”

  John ran over the controls for flight and then let Christine take over and practice. Once she knew the boat could fly the use for the floor pedals became clear. In less than an hour they were over the refugee camp and were spotted in the fading light by the people on the ground. A crowd formed, all looking at them as John circled and then landed in front of the tent where he had seen the Sergeant earlier. The Sergeant and the older civilian were both standing there, with about a dozen men and women in fatigues.

  “Sergeant, don't send any more scouts. There's a camp twenty miles north of you and at least one of your men was killed by them.”

  Sergeant Di Silva looked over the couple standing in front of the pontoon boat he just saw fly into the camp. Flying pontoon boat. The thought was stupid, an oxymoron, but it was sitting in front of him. These two looked like kids and they were dressed like some weird street punks. He shook his head in disbelief. “Just how would you know that?”

  “We saw them and your man earlier, from the air. They are most definitely hostile.” Christine took his arm. “We can help if you want to get your people moved. I'm Christine and I'm from a camp about fifty miles east of here. This is John.”

  John held out his hand. “I'm from about a hundred and fifty miles southeast from here but I'm happy to help, if you'll accept it.”

  The civilian took John's hand. “You're from two different groups?”

  “I'm alone. I was looking for a group to hook up with when I found Christine's people and then we saw your group. There's a lot of flooding east. What's west?”

  “Water. Rising water, coming this way. Or rather, the land is sinking and letting the sea cover it. Be here in a month or so. Salt water from the gulf. I think we are getting the ancient sea back in the Great Plains.”

  John and Christine looked at each other and then at the man. “You lost us.”

  “Doesn't matter. We can get into all the details later, if we can get out of this. I'm William Johnson, a paleontologist and this is Sergeant Humberto Di Silva, U. S. Army Infantry. We have a hundred and forty people here, thirty in the med tent unable to walk. What can you do to help?”

  Christine went pale. “A hundred and forty! We can't handle that many. John?”

  “Well, I have a suggestion. You have more people than we can support but there is time to prepare a new base camp. You have people who can handle preparations to move, if I transport them to a new location. If we work together, Christine and I can both transport your people and help gather supplies for all of us. You supply the manpower and we will supply the airships and pilots. What do you think?'

  The Sergeant thought for a minute then asked, “How many ships do you have?”

  “One right now but the second one can be ready in a few days. Christine and I can each pilot one and work in shifts, transporting people and equipment. You can send out teams in safe areas to find more materials and supplies.”

  “Build more and we can use my people as pilots as well.”

  “That could be a problem.” Christine paused, to gather her thoughts. “I'm not sure how to say this but it takes a certain . . . skill to fly these machines. Only people who were, uh, well . . . John. Help.”

  The group around them was getting more suspicious by the minute. Soldiers were now behind them and moving to get between them and the airship. John turned to the airship and called. “Tricia, would you come out here please.”

  Tricia threw the blanket off, where Christine had told her to stay or else and ran to John, who then turned to the Sergeant. “This is Tricia, Christine's ward, I guess. If she and Christine can stay here for a bit, I'll show you how the airship works and you can try your luck Sergeant.” John turned and motioned toward the airship. “Waiting on you.”

  The Sergeant motioned for two of his men to go with John and then followed himself. When they were aboard, John explained the controls, took the ship up about fifteen feet and circled the square. Then he landed and offered the controls to Di Silva. Each of the soldiers tried but all failed to get any response from the airship. The Sergeant was angry and suspicious.

  “What are you pulling here?”

  “Nothing. I showed you what to do. You watched me. Christine told you the truth. You don't have the skill to fly this machine. You are missing a gene.”

  “What?”

  “Watch again. This time, one of you sit in the chair and do exactly what I say. I will stand behind you and work the controls with you. The other two watch me and see exactly what I do. Then you try again. That's all I can do.”

  The Sergeant nodded and took the chair. John stood behind him and put his hands over Di Silva's and worked the controls. The airship rose, circled and landed. John moved his hands away, but otherwise, didn't move. The Sergeant failed again.

  Tricia spoke. Surprise! “Green eyed magic.”

  Professor Johnson looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  “It only works for people with green eyes. People like John and Me.” Christine waited for the response.

  The Professor turned and whispered into the ear of one of the women. She turned and walked quickly away. She came back in a few minutes with a young girl, about twelve. “This is Jenny. Perhaps you could show her the air ship.”

  “Hi Jenny, I'm Tricia, I'm eight, how old are you? You've got green eyes! Are you magic too? I wish I had gr
een . . .” Christine's hand gently stopped the flood. “Hi, I'm Christine. Would you like to look at the airship?”

  Jenny was not impressed. She looked bored and a little arrogant. “It's a boat.”

  “A very special boat. Wait a minute.” She turned and called out. “John, we've got someone.”

  John walked over to the rail and looked. “Send her over. We'll give it a try.”

  Jenny was helped onto the ship and John explained the controls to her. “Gentle and slow, just think gentle and slow, OK.”

  “This is stupid. It's a boat.”

  The Sergeant was getting ugly and the crowds were pressing in. John was getting impatient. “I came here to help. If you're not interested, we'll leave and you people can tread water.”

  The Sergeant bristled and John was done. He looked at the girl and asked her. “If this is just a boat, how did it get here?”

  “I don't know. You're the grown up, don't you know? Stupid man.”

  “What's this?” John held up a rod.

  “It's a stick.”

  “If I can prove that it's not a stick, will you do what I say?”

  “If it's not a stick, what is it?”

  John gritted his teeth. “It's a magic wand.”

  “You're a liar and you're stupid. There's no such thing. I'm going back to my tent.” She was loud and arrogant.

  John pushed her back down in the seat and vaporized an empty ruined building. When the noise and the screaming stopped and everyone stood up, John had the rod pointed at the Sergeant's head. He slowly and carefully asked, “Do you really want to piss me off?”

  Di Silva lifted his eyes and looked at John over the business end of the wand. Then he looked at the bubbling pool of liquid rock before answering. “I don't think so.”

  “Good. Then let's start over, shall we. Jenny, do what I told you. Do it now. Slow and gentle.”

  Wide-eyed, Jenny flew the airship in a very slow circle around the square and made a very bumpy landing. They all got off and walked back to Christine, John motioning the uniformed men to move back away from the small group waiting for John. When they moved away and Christine and Tricia were back next to him, John very deliberately put the rod away while keeping his hand on the butt. Christine had enough of her rod out of the pouch for them to see that she was also ready and capable of taking action.

  “Want help? Want friends? Now is your chance. Want enemies? We can do that too.”

  The Professor held up his hands and said simply, “Friends are good. I like friends. Don't you Sergeant?”

  Dogg was pissed. Everyone was gone, he had food, but no water and without the kids, he would be forced to work harder and take more chances himself to survive. He regretted killing that little Pakistani girl, but only because she could have crawled into the holes that were too small for him. He had fun with her, but she died before he was really satisfied. He was planning on finishing up with Elizabeth, but now, she was gone too. He was frustrated and he didn't like it. She would pay; he would make sure she lasted a lot longer than Sarki. He picked up his bag and headed down the street toward the next ruined building, humming to himself.

  Three hours later, tired, filthy from crawling through ruined buildings filled with sludge and contaminated sewage water, Dogg was nevertheless happy. He found water and beer at the last place and this stop was even better. The roof had collapsed but the bar was intact and he had twelve bottles of his favorite alcohol in his possession. There was more just inside the hole he had crawled out of. A little raw sewage wasn't going to slow him down if it meant booze to keep him company. He opened a can of something and started eating, washing it down with Vodka.

  Life was a little better than a few hours ago. When he was through eating, Dogg rolled a joint and lit it on a burning building. The building, part of a mall, was a big chain store with a garden center. Dogg walked through the remains, looking for anything usable. He found a wooden garden cart with large bicycle wheels on either side. The rubber was gone, but the metal wheels were in good shape. He rolled it back to the bar and loaded it with the rest of the booze. After all, he did have priorities. He tossed his bag into the wagon and pushed it down the street to the east.

  The next morning he didn't feel so good, but he put it down to the bottle he finished with supper. His hands and feet ached, but he did spend most of yesterday moving rubble and crawling through buildings, so that wasn't strange. He got up and started pushing the cart east again. The ground shook every now and then, but not bad, and the volcano was only smoking a little. The smells were getting really strong, but he could handle them. He would sniff every now and then, catching a smell he could almost identify.

  The third day after Mary and Sarki died, Dogg was still moving east. He knew he was being stalked. Dog packs were still around and he figured that one of them was following him, waiting for the rest of the pack to get into position for an attack. Dogg had a knife, a metal baseball bat and a length of pipe with another knife stuck in the end like a spear, but he didn't think he had much of a chance if the pack was more than three or four dogs. Unfortunately for him, it was a big pack, more than a dozen dogs and they were big.

  They looked strange, gray, with shaggy hair, deep chests and elongated snouts filled with fangs. The leader was bigger than the rest by a full foot in height and Dogg held his spear with shaky hands, looking for a place to at least protect his back. He was in the open with the pack all around him, slowly closing the circle. Only the leader closer than the others by a body length. Dogg knew he was going to die, torn apart by the dogs and his bladder cut loose, warm liquid running down his legs and pooling briefly before disappearing into the dirt.

  The leader lunged for him as Dogg tried to bring the spear up, but he was weak with fear and couldn't lift the point. Then the pack stopped and began to whine. The leader suddenly looked afraid and went down to his belly in the dirt, groveling before Dogg. Not one to miss an opportunity, Dogg shoved the spear into the leaders exposed throat, again and again and the rest of the pack ran. Dogg didn't know why, but he had fresh meat and he was going to have time to eat it. This time, Dogg food had a different meaning. He cut the back legs off the dead animal and threw them onto the cart, then continued east.

  Elizabeth watched as Dogg killed the pack leader and ducked behind the wall where she was hiding when she saw him start to move away. She was afraid to move, fearing both Dogg and the pack. She needed more food, but they weren't out yet. If she laid low for another day, maybe the threat would be out of the area. She tried to decide what to do while waiting for Dogg to leave.

  She heard the squeak of the wheels on the cart, which was what led her to Dogg in the first place. She could tell that he was moving east again, which was good, since her hideout was south of here. When the sound faded, she looked out and saw the dead animal and carefully moved out of hiding to cut her share of the kill. It would hold them for another day, but no more.

  Three days later, Elizabeth and her six kids were out of food and worse, out of water. How they had escaped the fires that destroyed almost everything around them, she didn't know. The volcano was quiet and had been since the day after Dogg had killed Sarki. Elizabeth hadn't cried since then, either. She had too much to do and too many mouths to feed. She was responsible and she would not let them down, no matter what.

  She carried a knife and a hatchet and had killed small animals with both, including one of the smaller dogs that were still around. She would just hide next to one of their trails, which she had learned to recognize and sit absolutely still until something came along.

  Sometimes she would have a club and stun the animals first, then use the knife or hatchet. Sometimes she would use a snare, even though she didn't know that was what they were called. She had the idea when one of her kids got tangled up in some wire and it had taken almost twenty minutes to get him out of it.

  Anthony was one of the twins Elizabeth had picked up the first day on the road and he had been a handful earlier.
Now he was quiet after Elizabeth had gotten him out of the wire while asking him what would happen if the dogs came along while he was in there. Now he was very careful and observant. He would let her know about animal tracks, supply locations, weather and everything else his searching eyes found. He was her scout and her backup.

  The other kids would do what either of them said to do, but they were no longer children. They were fearful, hiding little creatures, no longer smiling or playing, waiting for death. They knew that he was looking for them. If he found them, he would kill them like he did Mike, Mary, and Sarki. Elizabeth made sure they knew that he was BAD and their only hope was to hide in total silence.

  Elizabeth had hunted the last two days and only had a few rats and a bird for her efforts, but she had found water. The only problem was that it was several miles away and they would have to move across open ground in places to get there. If only one or two dogs showed up, she thought she could kill them, but if there were more, some of the kids would be hurt or killed. If they stayed, they would all die.

  Elizabeth had cleaned the animals and was building a small fire under the stairs so that the smoke would be small and not easy to pick out from the rest of the smoke in the city. She worried about the smell of the cooking food but hoped the burning building and trash, not to mention the dead animals that had been caught in the fires, would mask that as well.

  Elizabeth divided up the small meal into six portions and let the kids eat it all, as well as drink the last water from the jug she had. If the kids were not strong, they might not be able to travel as far as they needed to and this was all they had.

  They left at dusk, the kids on the leash with Elizabeth in the lead and Anthony bringing up the rear. It took most of the night to get to the new hideout. Elizabeth kept the kids in the shadows, not even wanting the moonlight, glimpsed through the smoke, to shine on them. When they finally arrived they all crawled under a pile of furniture and desks and collapsed in exhaustion. They had water, in a tank on the roof, maybe enough for a week. In the morning, Elizabeth would find food.

  Joshua was walking ahead of the wagon along with the other adults, except for Loren, who once again was handling the team. The kids were on the wagon with her, but to spare the horses, everyone was taking turns walking. Fires had driven them out of the pleasant life they had been building and they had finally outrun them only yesterday. It was still too early in the day to stop and make camp so they continued to head mostly east. If Frank's map showed a town close by, they would check it out before moving on.

  They still had plenty of food, but water was a problem. They couldn't find any clean water, most of it being either contaminated by the chemicals remaining from the breakdown of the synthetic materials, or by the sewage and filth running out of the ruined sewers of the towns they passed. At this point, even the kids would be drinking beer if they couldn't find anything else. They would be in trouble soon, if their luck didn't change.

  Joshua had another problem. Someone was watching him. He couldn't see anyone, but he could feel it and it bothered him. He tried not to let it show, but Loren and Cecilia both asked him about it, so he told them. Cecilia told her dad, Frank and now everyone was looking over their shoulders.

  He sighed heavily. He had to learn when to shut up. The packs of dogs were back as well. He had seen a small pack running up in the hills along the road earlier in the day and so had the others. He had his pistol, a pump shotgun and a rifle on the wagon. The shotgun only had a few rounds left and they hadn't found any more paper cartridges for it. Everyone had some kind of weapon, knives, axes, machete, baseball bat and Cecilia even had a wooden bow with a dozen arrows. Joshua wasn't sure she could hit anything, but she said she could.

  There was a fork in the road ahead, just around the curve they were on. To the left was a town and to the right was twenty miles of woods. Joshua intended to check out the town, but after that, he wanted to follow the right fork to the southeast. The map had shown lakes to the right, almost thirty miles away. Joshua thought that it was the best chance for a water supply, but they needed to find something now and the town would at least have stores. When they arrived, they found it also had a population. There was a wall across the road and people at the top looking over at them as they came around the curve of the road. The wagon behind Joshua stopped as he approached the wall.

  “Close enough. You ain't welcome so turn around. You don't get a second warning or a second chance.”

  Joshua could see at least ten men on top of the wall and what looked like bottles with rags in the tops. One of the men tossed a bottle at the group, after lighting the rag with a torch. When the bottle hit the road, there was a fireball which burned across the road, blocking it. The horses jumped at the explosion and Loren was having a hard time getting them under control.

  “Josh,” she yelled, “we gotta go. We can't stay here. One more of those and the horses will bolt!”

  “OK” Joshua waved the others back. “Turn them around and let's get out of here.”

  A shout went up from the wall. “They got horses.” and an answer “Get'um. Get the horses!”

  Some of the men started to climb over the wall, carrying clubs and knives. Joshua turned back around and raised the shot gun.

  “You can't scare us with that. We know better. But we're gonna make sure of you with these.” The man raised a scythe in each hand. Joshua shot him in the face with the 12 gauge, showering the wall and the other men still climbing down, with blood and bits of gray matter. He hit the second man in the chest, knocking him to the ground. The rest climbed back over the wall and peered over the top at the group. Joshua held the gun to his shoulder and backed around the curve. As he lost sight of the wall he waved Frank over to him. “Keep going. I'm going to wait here for a bit and make sure they don't follow.”

  Frank nodded and gripped the baseball bat tightly. “I got your back.”

  “No. You've got the group and the kids. You go with them and I'll catch up. Don't argue, think about your daughter.”

  Frank nodded and walked back to the wagon, speaking to the others. He looked back at Joshua as he led the people towards the fork.

  Joshua reloaded the shot gun and loosened the pistol in the holster, while moving to the cover on the side of the road. The wagon moved out of sight and he waited.

  Three men came around the curve. One had a cross bow, the others machetes. Joshua waited until they were right in front of him, in the center of the road. It was obvious that they were listening for the wagon, but staying just out of sight. Joshua stepped out from behind the tree and waited.

  The man with the crossbow saw him first and Joshua spoke loudly and clearly. “You can walk away. Put your weapons down and back off, don't follow us and you'll live.”

  The crossbow holder was obviously not going to let it go, nor give up his weapon. He took a step forward, then jumped back and yelled as he tried to bring the crossbow in line with Joshua. The other two turned toward Joshua and lifted their machetes. The shotgun barked three times and Joshua picked up the crossbow and quiver, before he moved to catch up with the wagon, shaking his head in wonder at the three now dead men. He continued to keep an eye on the road and the trees behind him as he trotted toward the retreating wagon.

  The next day Loren and Cecelia were kneading the dough for the biscuits they were preparing with the evening meal. The last few days had been difficult for everyone, but they had reached the water they needed and were settling down. Joshua was withdrawn and Loren knew it was because of the men he killed. She wanted to do something to make him feel better, to let him know that, while it was a bad thing, it was their choice, not his. “It was them or us.” It sounded pathetic, which was why she hadn't said anything.

  She had thought at first that she and Joshua might be more than friends but, as much as she liked him, she was not able to get used to his special abilities. It was so strange that only he could fire a weapon and that it only took his touch for anyone else to fire one
.

  Lately, she had spent a lot more time with Cecelia and her dad, Frank. He was more like her and she was comfortable with him. They had a lot more in common than she had with Joshua, who everyone called the Wizard when he wasn't listening. He seemed to know things and to see things that they couldn't. He was the one who told them not to drink at the first lake, saying that it was poisoned, but to go to the lake that was higher in the hills, that fed the first lake. At first they weren't sure if he was right or not, but as they passed the lake, they started seeing the dead bodies around the edge, both animal and Human. After that everyone listened to what he said, but they were less sociably inclined than before. After all, it's dangerous to get involved in the affairs of Wizards.

  There were other people around the lake, who were not hostile, but they were not overly friendly either. They were willing to let the group stay, but they were not willing to associate with them at first. When they heard gunshots and Frank offered to trade meat for vegetables, they became interested and some trade started. After a week, friendships began to form and tensions eased, except around the Wizard.

  Joshua knew all this and felt the chill that would come over conversations when he walked into the camp, but there was nothing he could do about it. He remained friendly and open with everyone and worked as hard as any of them to do the work needed to build a settlement. Hunting was one of the things he could do better than most, even Frank who lived in the woods all his life. Joshua knew where the animals were and walked to where they were going to cross paths and waited. He never failed to bring home the meat, usually in an hour or less.

  He was a little more upset about Loren preferring Frank over him, but he didn't know what he could do about it. None of the other women in camp, either camp, was of interest to him, either too old, too young or already involved with someone else. He had felt the observer once more, very strongly and that was all, but he hadn't spoken of it to anyone, since he was feeling more and more isolated from the group.

  There were a few exceptions, most notably the kids and especially Cecilia. He was careful not to do or say anything that might be misconstrued and to never let himself be caught alone with her. After all, she was just a kid and parents tended to be very protective of their kids and their daughters.

  He needn't have worried, Frank having asked Cecilia to hang around with Joshua to keep an eye on him. Frank wasn't suspicious of Joshua, however. He was suspicious of the neighbors and wanted to make sure they didn't woo Joshua away from the group. Cecilia was more than willing, since she had a crush on Joshua, in spite of, or maybe because of his abilities. After all, he was young, athletic, good looking and a romantic figure in her eyes. The fact that Joshua was actually thirty three not twenty wasn't something he had advertised. These people already thought he was strange as it was. An age difference of thirteen years would put them over the edge.

  Tiffanie had an army growing around her and she liked it. The crystals gave her power over others like herself, who shunned the light and loved the night. Living underground was so natural to them, carving out homes in the rocky walls and living easily in the cave system she had found.

  She had others living and working around them, above ground, but as long as they were obedient to her will, she would accept them. It was convenient to have crews to salvage materials day and night, one crew taking over from another nonstop and even the most darkly twisted of her followers followed the logic behind the acceptance.

  Some of her people were changing, physically. The eyes were the most obvious feature, red and gray with a cat like iris, which explained their night vision. Some changed more than others and Tiffanie tended to keep the different types separated for different functions. They didn't seem to mind. In fact, they seemed to prefer it that way.

  There were others, further south of her, military and civilians gathering. Some kind of relief effort no doubt, one which could have resources she could use. If the weapons no longer worked it would be easy to overrun the small base and contingent of soldiers. Perhaps a few prisoners for labor and amusement would be of benefit to her rule.

  “Mark, who do we have that would be able to scout the area south of us without being caught?”

  “Jonathan, Jude, big Doug and Marshal could. They have field experience in the military, black ops. Two are night and two are day so they could do whatever is needed. You thinking about that relief camp south?”

  Tiffanie nodded. “They could have resources and if not we could use more laborers. A few of the men have asked about finding more women as well and at least half that camp should be female.”

  “They might not want to work for us and taking on the US government might be a problem.” Mark said.

  “There is no government. If there was, they would be here by now, in the major cities at least. There's nothing flying, nothing working and no population left worth mentioning. As for them not wanting to work for us, I don't remember asking what they want. They can work or starve or maybe entertain my troops. Slavery is not a bad thing, if you're not the slave.”

  “There's another group west and another just a few miles north as well. Like us. We might want to recruit a few more soldiers ourselves, before we hit an Army group.”

  Tiffanie nodded, her fingers on the handle of her knife. She was remembering old ways and how to gain followers.

 

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