Horizon (03)

by Sophie Littlefield

“And Mayhew?” Cass asked, though she had a feeling she knew the rest.

  “He sought us out. He went to Davis first because of the horses. Davis owned many horses and he had given many away, for people to ride, but he had kept his finest for himself. Me and Bart, he chose us because we had weapons, and we are strong and young. Mayhew said to us, there is no reason we cannot go to this settlement. Let the others build it. Four more people, that is not a lot—once we arrive, they will not turn us away. These are good people, compassionate people.

  “Davis taught us to ride. We stayed out on his ranch, and no one knew what we were doing. We gathered the things we would need. I taught Davis to shoot. The rest of us practiced. We were biding our time, to give the first group time to reach the destination and make everything ready. We thought our chances were best if we arrived around the time of the second wave, when everything was still confusing.

  “That was a mistake. Because you see, we were not the only ones to have this thought. We found out about the others. People like us who were not content to be left behind, who were also gathering weapons, and among this group were bad people, killers and criminals. Mayhew tried to meet with them, to reason with them. He said we should split the settlements among us, each group should go to a different one, but there was no agreement. The more Mayhew tried to lead this discussion the more it disintegrated. It almost came to violence. Threats were made.

  “We left that night. But Mayhew had an idea. He thought that we should make our numbers stronger, that we should find others—fighters. Survivors. People who already knew how to deal with Beaters. We would take the settlement by force, if we needed to.

  “He thought we should come West, for two reasons. First of all, anyone here would have the advantage of experience with the Beaters and the fever. He was convinced we would need that knowledge to survive, even once we made it north. And second, the Western settlement is the harshest, the most difficult conditions. It was taking a chance, because there was some doubt about whether the first party could make it work, that it might not be able to build the infrastructure. But it was for that reason that Mayhew thought the other groups would avoid it.

  “The first few days of the trip were difficult, and we made mistakes, but we learned. We lost Jarvis to the Beaters during our first day on this side of the mountains. He…” Nadir paused, his voice roughening. He swallowed before continuing.

  “We grew closer. Bart and Davis and I did, anyway. Mayhew…he held himself apart. We did not begrudge him leadership, but we began to see that he could be cruel. The night we saw your flares, we did not come to help you, not the way we said, anyway. But when we found that you were well supplied, and already on the road, he saw a way he could turn this to our favor.”

  “But we’re not all strong,” Cass said. “Not warriors. Not what he wanted.”

  Nadir frowned and stared at the ground. “No, not all of you,” he agreed softly. “Mayhew planned to take the women and the strongest men only. He was willing to wait a few days, because he thought the difficulty of the travel would soften people up to the idea of leaving the weaker ones behind. But he was ready to kill them if that didn’t happen.”

  “He thought—” Cass was incredulous. “Mayhew thought that of us? Even after he got to know us?”

  Nadir looked miserable. “We tried—Bart and Davis and I, we tried to tell him…but he didn’t care to listen. In every society, some people get left behind. Not all your people made it off the island, so I guess he was thinking it might work. Anyway, he had other concerns. He wanted, um, more women. More women of childbearing age. He thought—well, that’s why he was so determined to get into the mall. His plan was to take their women too.”

  “How the hell did he think he’d accomplish that?” Smoke demanded. “Just walk in and issue an invitation? Hey, girls, wanna come with us?”

  “He thought once we’d spent some time with them, maybe there could be a big meeting of the leadership. A bargain could be made. He thought they might be willing to come, a few leaders and some of their women, once he explained about the settlement. And we would leave the weak members of our party there. He said it was humane, you see, because they would be protected, they would have resources.”

  The chill of this knowledge traveled through Cass. “And you went along with this?”

  Nadir’s expression darkened further. “I am ashamed to say that I did, at first. I was very afraid. Seeing the Beater, what it did to Jarvis…I believed we did not have a chance unless we did what Mayhew suggested. But now…I cannot continue as he wanted to. My heart is not in it.”

  “Either that, or you’ve figured out the truth is your only option,” Cass said bitterly. She herself knew how powerful self-preservation could be, but she’d also learned to part with her trust very reluctantly.

  “Cass, he’s giving us everything,” Smoke said. “The plans for the settlement, the coordinates, the notes on the conditions. He doesn’t even want to lead. He says he’ll accept whatever role we give him.”

  “Oh no,” Cass said angrily. “If we do this, you’re not getting off easy. You know the most about this plan, you’re going to be one of the people making it happen.”

  “I have seen what this man can do,” Nadir said, indicating Smoke with a palm placed flat on the step between him. “It would be my honor to follow him.”

  “All right—but it can’t just be me,” Smoke said.

  Cass was stunned. Since the first day Smoke and she had met, he had been adamant that he did not want to lead. Even in his role overseeing security in the Box, he avoided anything resembling a hierarchy, and rarely told anyone else what to do.

  “I’ll do this,” Smoke said, knowing what she was thinking. His blue eyes bored into hers, and when he spoke again, it was only to her. “But you have to convince Dor to do it with me.”

  “What?”

  It was the last thing Cass expected. Since the first day on the road, the two men had barely spoken. Cass knew she was the reason. Before, in the Box, they had been each other’s closest confidant, each other’s best friend. Now, they were rivals. They both wanted her—and she did not know what she wanted.

  The months in the Box—the time on the island—these were illusory, brief expanses of peace when it sometimes seemed like life returned to the way it had been Before. Except…in the Box Cass had something she’d never had: someone to love, who loved her back. Who loved Ruthie. Who wanted to make a family with her. Wanted to be with her forever…until the day came when he wanted vengeance more, when he left her and Ruthie and their home and their dreams, left everything behind to fight an impossible battle.

  With Dor it had been different. They’d never talked about love. The thing between them was dark, needful, sometimes almost violent. It was an affair twisted from the threads of their hungers, their losses, their sorrows. At times it seemed like it inhabited only the fringes of their lives, especially because they always met in secret; but when they were together it expanded to encompass everything. When Dor touched her, everything else fell away, and it was like the world had never broken. No: it was like the world had never existed, like only they existed, in a free fall from time and space and everything they’d known. And yet, when it was over, they parted without promises, without words of love, without even a tender kiss, and they pretended there was nothing there.

  Thinking about Dor was an endless loop, a puzzle with no answer. She had to stop.

  “What is it that you’re proposing?” Cass asked Nadir.

  “We have the location.” Nadir stabbed the paper with his finger. “We have the exact coordinates. We have routes, here. Weather conditions, population density from Before, everything. The first wave should have gotten there a week ago. They’ll be putting up the frames for shelter, figuring out the water source, building cooking facilities and latrines, and fortifying all points of egress. If we stick to the schedule on here, we can be up there in eighteen days.”

  Cass examined the stack of printouts
, the topographical map on top. “Where is that, anyway?”

  “Mount Karuk. Fourth-largest peak in the Cascades. It’s national forest land, so it hasn’t been densely populated, but the site of the settlement—” Nadir pointed to the star inked on the map “—has been used by humans for, well, forever, because it’s got hot springs, waterfalls, great volcanic soil for farming. It’s perfect—except for one thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  Nadir shuffled the papers, selected one. “Here’s a detail map. The settlement is on this land, here. You can see the river, here—well, technically it’s a stream but these cliffs are hundreds of feet high. The falls, here, carved out this gorge, and you can see where the river breaks off here, so that’s impassable most of the year. Bottom line, it’s very hard to get to. But there’s some good news, too.”

  “What’s that?”

  “This bridge.” Nadir showed them an aerial shot, fuzzy in black-and-white. “Wait, I can do better. I’m trying to conserve battery, but…”

  He took a cell phone out of his pocket and thumbed it on.

  “Are you going to call up there?” Cass asked, looking at the little machine a bit incredulously. She was aware that high emotion was making her sarcastic, and she regretted it, especially because this was the first good news they’d had in a long time. “Tell them to order pizza?”

  Nadir grimaced but didn’t respond. They waited for the phone to power up, and he clicked a few buttons. “Here.”

  He turned the screen face toward them, and Cass looked close: a crystal clear photo of emerald-green treetops, the winding break of the river, and there—a straight gray line.

  “A bridge,” Smoke said. “Four lanes. Put in by some multinational group that wanted to build a resort.”

  “So, assuming the bridge is intact—”

  “That’s a big assumption,” Cass said. “Don’t you think?”

  Nadir shrugged. “Those photos were taken last March. Not even a year ago. Since then there’s been no air traffic, hardly anyone on the roads. Sure, it’s possible to get there on foot, but I’d say most people spent most of last year trying to go toward civilization and not away from it.”

  “The Cascades are hundreds of miles long,” Smoke said. “And there’s higher elevations. Why did they pick this one?”

  “Because it’s relatively easy to get to, especially coming from the southeast. They spaced the settlements out east to west, and this was supposed to be the westernmost camp. But if they’d gone up to Washington or Oregon, that’d take weeks longer. And they wanted the settlements to be forbidding enough that Beaters couldn’t survive, but not so hostile that everyone else couldn’t either. I mean, I wouldn’t want to be in Minneapolis right now, know what I mean? At least in the settlements, a day on foot gets you down mountain, above freezing almost all year round. Put in a few satellite farms and you got four growing seasons, too. Couldn’t really ask for much better.”

  Cass considered Nadir’s argument, trying to find the holes in it. She had to admit that, other than the uncertain welcome they were likely to receive, it was better than anything they’d come up with. “So you really think this will work for all of us? What about the slow ones—the weak ones?”

  “Everyone goes,” Smoke said adamantly. “Everyone.”

  Nadir nodded. “I understand. We have the advantage of the vehicles. That should make up for any…problems we could experience. I mean, anyone who’s slower, the kids, the older folks. If you don’t mind me asking…are you concerned about loyalty? Why do you wish to involve this other man?”

  Smoke addressed Nadir but his eyes were on Cass. “I am not well-known here. I’ve been sick. People might question my strength.”

  “Dor’s only been here as long as I have,” Cass protested. “Two months.”

  And no one liked him, she wanted to add. But things had changed so much. Of the council leadership, only Shannon and Harris remained; Dana was dead and Neal was among the missing.

  Dor had been a hero today. In times of great upheaval, people were judged by their last trial, their last triumph. Without Dor they’d all be dead; she had a feeling that Smoke was right, that people would be expecting him to play a role in what came next.

  “Is there anyone else?” Nadir asked. “Anyone who will challenge you?”

  Smoke and Cass looked at each other. “No,” she said slowly. “Dana would have, but he’s dead.”

  Nadir nodded. “And what role do you see for me?”

  “What do you mean?” Smoke asked.

  “Am I to…assist you in some way?”

  “You’re the one with the maps, my friend,” Smoke said. “You’ve put a lot on the table. You’ll forgive me for assuming that you want something in return.”

  Nadir raised his hands. “A new life,” he said. “A chance at something. To matter. To…know people.”

  “What did you do Before?” Cass asked.

  Nadir shrugged. “I worked at a Best Buy. Went to community college. I was engaged…but I was thinking of breaking it off. I wasn’t anything, really. Just an average guy.”

  “And now?” Smoke asked. “What do you want from life?”

  “I’m twenty-six years old,” Nadir said. “I’ve lost everyone I knew before a year ago. I’d like to live to see twenty-seven, and have a couple of friends when I get there.”

  Smoke nodded. He looked at Cass, slipped his hand around hers. “That’s not the worst goal I ever heard.”

  Chapter 39

  PEOPLE ADAPTED TO the new order with surprising complacency. Or maybe it wasn’t all that surprising—and on second thought it wasn’t complacency, but more like stunned acceptance. No one was unaffected by the terrible losses suffered at the mall. People were silent much of the day, prone to crying jags, more likely than ever to wander off in search of solitude when they did stop for rest.

  Cindy, who had treated Rosita like a second mother, had taken to wearing the scarf she took from the dead woman’s body outside the mall after she died from her head injury. It was still stained with blood, but Cindy didn’t seem to care.

  Sharon, whose partner, Elsa, had been among those crushed to death when people swarmed the door of the mall, stopped speaking to anyone. When people approached, she turned away; she seemed to blame them all. She walked several paces behind the crowd and slept outside at night and Cass worried that one morning they would find her gone, having slipped away in the night to be alone with her grief.

  No one seemed to miss Craig Switzer much. Or Mayhew, for that matter, after a somewhat condensed version of his plan had been communicated at a meeting Smoke led with Nadir and Bart, Dor doing his customary silent-and-glowering thing a few paces away. A vote was taken, and, not surprisingly, it was a unanimous decision to continue northward toward Salt Point.

  People were given a quick glimpse at the images on Nadir’s phone before he shut it down to conserve the battery. Jay said it reminded him of skiing in Whistler, up in Canada. Kyra, who had begun talking about the baby from time to time, said she thought it would be nice to have a log-cabin school for the kids.

  The days took on a rhythm, early mornings around fires made from whatever lumber they could scavenge, the last of the canned and preserved food doled out parsimoniously along with whatever form of kaysev was on offer that day. A new kitchen crew had formed from a few volunteers, including—surprisingly—Kalyan, who was a sort of apprentice to Fat Mike. Fat Mike wasn’t the least bit fat anymore, but the name stuck, and he and Kalyan spent the evenings experimenting with kaysev and whatever other ingredients could be scrounged. Several times there was rabbit and even squirrel that Nadir or Dor or Bart shot. Cass found wild shallots and ginger, serviceberries, squawroot and nutsedge tubers. In her pack was the seed collection she had brought with her from New Eden, and she daydreamed about the garden she would grow if they reached Salt Point safely.

  When, she corrected herself every time. When they reached Salt Point. But optimism was in short supply, despite eve
ryone’s efforts to practice it.

  One reason Kalyan was spending more time with Fat Mike, Cass figured, was that Colton was spending most of his time with Sammi. Only Shane, among the young men, seemed to have failed to find a new diversion. Sometimes Cass saw him with his slingshot, shooting stones at billboards, wrecked cars, rabbits—though he never managed to hit those—always with the same vacant expression. If he missed his friends’ company he didn’t let on.

  Twice they encountered Beaters: once, they pulled off the road at an orchard, the dead trees eerie with their clinging brown leaves and withered fruit. A pair of long sheds seemed like a reasonable shelter for the night, especially after Dor and some of the others went in to clear them and found nothing more vexing than a corpse lying next to an open refrigerator surrounded by empty beer cans. But as the group was settling in, a pack of four Beaters came sprinting from the tiny farmhouse that had been nearly hidden by the trees. Since the travelers had taken to posting sentries the moment they arrived at a new shelter, two of them were killed before they could enter through the open metal doors, and the others after they tripped, screaming with frustration, over their comrades. They were all old Beaters except for one, who had been a young man in his twenties recently enough that he still had all his hair and tattoos, elaborate colorful skulls and roses on both arms. He was the last to die, exhaling for a final time with what Cass imagined was a flicker of regret in his bright eyes.

  The other Beater encounter was more disturbing still. Late on a warm day, when they were looking for somewhere to shelter, they passed by a tiny town, really nothing more than half a dozen small bungalows and a brick general store. All were abandoned, windows cracked and debris spilling from doorways. A stench rose from several cars parked in the middle of the intersection, and the group gave it a wide berth, walking through the field on the other side of the road.

  They passed this site by because it would be too risky to try to check the buildings. Anytime there were more than two or three buildings clustered together, they generally stayed clear. The paucity of Beater sightings on the journey confirmed what they’d heard from the handful of settlers and freewalkers they’d encountered: the Beaters were generally concentrated in the larger towns and cities still, though with their quarry more and more elusive, as survivors dwindled and reinforced their shelters, it wasn’t unheard of to find a nest in a tiny town or ranch, especially near the roads.