The Wild Children Trilogy Box Set

by Hannah Ross

  "Well, I have. My group was the first, I think, or one of the first."

  "What happened to them?" Elisa asked.

  Mac's eyes lost focus, as if they were seeing a past that was replaying itself.

  "All sorts of things," he muttered before his attention returned to the present. "All sorts of things can happen to a bunch of twelve-year-old kids who get thrown out into the wild with only a vague notion of what to do next." He sighed. "We were unlucky. We wandered too far out there, without knowing where we were going. Our supplies ran out fast, and we didn't find enough to replenish what we used. By the time winter came, we were a starving, sick, sorry bunch. There was no decent shelter, people came down with fevers, and we had no medicine. Some died, others panicked because they were afraid they might catch the sickness. They ran away, and we never saw them again. The rest of us were worse off for being so few. And then, the winter was cold and harsh, and still we were driven out to go and look for food, and there was this pack of hungry wolves…" He shook his head to rid it of unwelcome ghosts. "To make a long story short, a year after our departure, I was the only one left."

  Elisa's eyes were moist. "I'm so sorry."

  "Don't be. True, the first few months were the most miserable in my life. Being alone made me want to howl like a wolf, made me want to be one. They were wild, but at least they had a pack. At some point, I nearly made up my mind to just lie down and die because I couldn't bear being alone. I talked to myself all the time until one day I fell silent. Then I decided to stop wandering around in circles in the same area. I began to travel with the weather, with the seasons. Then I got lucky. After a couple of years I ran into Michael and his friends."

  "A couple of years?" Jimmy looked horrified.

  "Yes. After a while, loneliness gets comfortable. You travel light and there's no one to hold you back. You don't need to adjust your plans to anyone else. There were times when I thought I was resigned to it, to the idea of never seeing another human being again. I got pretty good at sustaining myself, and I thought I had it all under control. But when I saw people, actual living people again, I started shouting and running so madly I thought my lungs would pop."

  "We had half a mind to shoot him on the spot," Michael said. "Thought he was crazy or something. Most of us are glad we didn't, though."

  Mac opened his mouth to say something, glanced down at his son, and instead aimed a rude gesture at Michael before he continued. "Those kids were younger than me, but they were lucky enough to stay together and stay alive. I joined them, at first only for a season. Loneliness had become a habit and it was hard to live in a group again. But then I got together with Gabby, and she didn't fancy the two of us traveling alone for months on end. She figured we need a bit more stability."

  "And I was right, wasn't I?" said Gabby, who approached carrying a plump curly-haired baby girl in her arms. "We needed a settled place, especially when I realized Darren was going to be born."

  "Weren't you scared?" Elisa asked her.

  Gabby smiled. "Sure I was, but there was no choice, right? I had to deal with it. And I was lucky. It was easier than I thought with Darren, and even easier with Jill. Now, I hope I'll be able to help Edeline when her time comes."

  "How long have you lived in this warehouse?" asked Ben.

  Michael thought for a moment. "About three years. We tried several places before, but this one beats any of them. It's roomy, it's practically intact, and it's located right in the middle of all the good stuff in the City Center."

  "So you just go around looking for what you need and picking it out from the ruins?"

  "Yes, pretty much. We were all born after the War. You can't imagine the amount of things everyone had before their world collapsed. I only wonder where they kept it all. Of course, not all we find is usable. A lot was destroyed in the bombings and a lot got spoiled during the years before we arrived. Then there are all the things that need to be plugged in, like electric heaters, lights, cookers, and such. All useless. But we get all the shoes and clothes we want and a lot more besides."

  "And what will you do when things run out?" asked Ben after a moment's thought.

  "Won't ever happen. There's enough in this city to last for generations, if there's so few of us."

  "Of some things, perhaps," Mac said "But others… It's already hard to find some stuff, like batteries. Someday in the not too distant future, we'll have to give up anything that runs off them. Same goes for gas cans for the portable cooker and oil for the lamps. There were plenty of both in the camping department of that store but then they ran out and now they're getting hard to find. At some point we'll have to rely on wood alone for fuel. And there are other things."

  He shook his head. "How did you think I survived before I met you? I didn't come across any cities, only a few lousy villages. I had no gun. I hunted without one. I learned to cure hides from an old library book. Such things are worth learning, even if they aren't as convenient as walking through abandoned department stores."

  "Do you think you could live outside the City, if you wanted to?" Ben asked Michael.

  "We all spend quite a lot of time outside the City, especially in the spring and summer. There isn't much food to be found here, except for things that can be preserved for twenty years and more. So we hunt and fish and gather, and dry and cure and put up winter stores. It does get pretty lean through the winter, though."

  "But if you lived outside the city," Elisa said, "like on one of the abandoned farms, wouldn't you have more food?" She blushed when she realized every eye was on her. "I mean, you could grow things. And there's more firewood, and the river seems cleaner out there. Of course, I don't really know." She looked very self-conscious until Gabby smiled and patted her on the shoulder.

  "It does make sense in many ways," Gabby said. "Mac's been suggesting it for some time that we should all move out of the city and only come back for the winter."

  "Why don't you, then?" Tom asked.

  Michael smiled, but it seemed strained. "You must be tired," he said. "Let's set you up somewhere. Jen, are there any spare mattresses?"

  Two partitions were hung off the ceiling in a distant section of the warehouse. The boys had their space and the girls had theirs. Spare mattresses were spread out on the floor, but there were not enough to go around so many, including Ben and Tom, rolled out their sleeping bags. They did not mind, though. They were inside, protected from the wind and rain. Their bellies were full, they all changed into clean clothes, and they basked in the soft light of oil lamps.

  A contented Ben stretched, feeling sluggish and tired, but unable to sleep just yet, he decided to organize the jumbled contents of his backpack. He reached inside and started straightening some things, taking others out, opening and closing zippers. When he reached in one of the bottom inner pockets, one he had not bothered to explore before, he pulled out a sealed, white envelope in a waterproof wrapping. Inside, he found a letter. It seemed long, and he recognized the familiar, rounded writing of Mrs. Stocking, so he moved closer to one of the lamps to read.

  Dear Benjamin, it began. His eyes lingered on those words for a moment. For some reason, he fancied Mrs. Stocking's hand shook a little as she wrote them. But then the rest of the letter quickly grabbed his attention.

  I'm sorry I had never dared to tell you this before…

  When he finished reading, he sat there next to the lamp, his head bowed, the letter clutched in his hand. When he next recalled where he was, the people around him were already asleep on their mattresses and in their sleeping bags, and the oil lamp gave one last flicker and sputtered out. Only a faint ray of moonlight from one of the intact windows was left to dispel the darkness.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard Tom whisper, "Hey, Ben. Are you OK?"

  Ben wiped his eyes on his sleeve and faced his best friend. "I had a mother," he said in a low, solemn voice.

  Tom greeted this with confused silence for a few seconds before he said, "We all had one, did
n't we?"

  "She didn't want to give me up. She followed me, month after month, all those years in the orphanage, until we left. She's still there, back across the Boundary. Her name is Rebecca."

  6

  ________________

  ____________

  ________

  "Why on earth aren't you asleep?"

  Startled, Rebecca turned in her chair. She was not aware of the time, but she registered the extraordinary stillness that belonged to the couple of hours before dawn. The last latecomers of the night were already home, and the first early buses and trucks had not started their busy hum yet. Soon, the birds would begin to chirp.

  Her eyes stung now that she drew them away from the computer screen. Her neck cricked painfully when she moved it. She blinked rapidly several times and rubbed her eyes.

  In their bed, Daniel straightened up and turned on the bedside lamp, flooding his side of the room with soft yellow light. "Don't tell me you've been sitting there all night," he said.

  Rebecca glanced at the screen again. A web page showing a long article with tiny, tightly packed letters was open there. The little desk was piled with freshly printed-out pages of reports, tables, charts, and graphs.

  "Sorry," she mumbled. "I was going to go to bed, but I just had to check something here, and I guess I got carried away."

  "What's all this, anyway?" Daniel sat up, drawing a robe around his pajamas to combat the chilly spring night.

  "Nothing special." Her tone belied her suppressed enthusiasm. "At least, nothing the government thought compromising enough to remove from the web. Each one of these items, by itself, doesn't mean much. Put together, though…"

  Daniel approached the desk and picked the top sheet from the small pile. "Economic Growth Statistics. I think I saw this at one of our last conferences, actually. Harry Fishbain used this paper in his report."

  "What was his report about?"

  "The distribution of income tax per region. Come to bed and I'll tell you all about it. You'll be asleep in three minutes." He grinned as he gestured toward the pile of papers. "Do you need this for something you're working on?"

  "Sort of. These growth statistics belong to the last decade, did you know that?"

  "Well, it's in the sub-headline. Not exactly a big secret, right?"

  "No. The statistics are out there, and they're pretty consistent. Anyone can find and read them. Yet the official government stance is that there is no economic growth, right?"

  Daniel appeared puzzled. "Well, anyone dealing with finances knows it isn't exactly so, but you know how political slogans and newspaper headlines are written. Zero is a lot easier to process than very little."

  "Yes. It was a very nice, very simple line, wasn't it? No economic growth, no population growth. Remember?"

  A cool, reserved expression appeared on Daniel's face, as he understood where the conversation was going and was not sure he liked it. "So it's about that again?"

  "Yes, Daniel. Again, and again, and again, until the truth is out in the open. Until people talk about it in their homes and on the streets, in offices and in trains, in schools and universities."

  Daniel stepped back and sat on the bed. "The truth? And what is the truth?"

  "The truth is that we are living quite comfortably. Yes, it will take centuries to recover to the point we were at before the War, but compared to the rest of the world, what we have can only be described as luxury. Running water and electricity twenty-four hours a day! Don't you remember how it was all turned off for the night when we were little? There was a curfew, and people in general were in bed by nine because everything went dark after that. There were long lines at the grocery stores, and sometimes you wouldn't be able to buy bread or milk. Now we have pretty much everything we need, when we need it. The military budget was reduced a few years ago because the threat of another war was getting slimmer by the year. Yet freedoms are still restricted and human rights are trampled, because of principles which no longer apply."

  "And you've deduced all that from a few hours of web-surfing?"

  Daniel saw she was agitated again and shook his head as she got up and started to pace up and down the little free space between the bed and the door.

  "More people wouldn't threaten our survival as a nation. Our convenience, perhaps, to a certain degree, but not our survival. There's no longer any need to be so strict about zero growth, and there is definitely no need to try and shrink the population, which the government is subtly trying to do. And most important…" Her voice rose and shook a little. "…it's no longer justified to penalize so cruelly those families who have trespassed the Decree of Population Control, to tear families apart, to throw helpless pre-teens across the Boundary, hypocritically claiming we can't afford to feed them."

  "Please be quiet or you'll wake Kate."

  Rebecca took a deep breath. "You're right. But I know what I'm going to do now, Daniel."

  Had their eyes met, his would have betrayed his fear as he asked, "What?"

  "I'm going to the press. I'm going to every office, present facts, and demand answers. I'm going to talk to people until my voice is drowned in the mass of all those who ask the same questions. And I'm going to get a pass across the Boundary. Yes, Daniel. I'm going to do that. I will go there, and I will find Benjamin, and I will bring him back no matter what it takes."

  Grey light seeped through the curtains. They heard the trill of an early bird. It was much too late to think of sleep now, and besides, Rebecca felt wide awake. "I think I'll go for a run," she said, grabbing her sweatshirt.

  Daniel sat, unmoving, unable to understand the obsession that drove the woman he loved.

  The cold morning air smelled sweet as Rebecca ran at a steady pace, feeling younger than she had in years. All around her, the world was awakening. The Urban District came alive under the lightening sky. Birds chirped and twittered in the nearby park, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted out of several coffee shops and Quick Bars. More joggers appeared, some running to upbeat music, others, like Rebecca, just enjoying the sights, sounds and smells of the morning. She did not feel at all tired. On the contrary, every nerve in her body was alive and tingling. She felt like a warrior on the verge of battle.

  When she began to tire, her pace slowed, until finally she walked, taking deep breaths to expand her lungs. Her reflection in a shop window stopped her and she appraised herself as she might a stranger. I look pretty good for someone who's lived half a century in this world. She leaned closer, then stepped back. The lines around my eyes and mouth aren't visible from a distance. That's good. She took another step back, turned sideways for a few seconds, and nodded. I'm still in good shape. Lean and firm. And my hair's as curly and thick as it was thirty years ago. Moving closer to her reflection, she pulled the hair from the elastic tie-back, shook it free, and sighed. So much grey, though. Maybe I should start coloring it even if it will make it coarser. … No, Daniel likes the way it feels. If he doesn't mind the grey, why should I?

  She decided to get a cup of coffee and just sit somewhere for a while, but when she reached into her pocket, she realized she left her wallet home when she rushed out. Oh well. I can live without coffee.

  She crossed the street and claimed a bench in the small park. Her thoughts raced for hours as the city came alive with people and vehicles and the ever-present Security Police watching over everyone and everything.

  The crowds had long-since thinned when she realized where her early morning run brought her. Behind her was a tall, sleek-looking building with polished windows that blinded her as they reflected the morning sun. It held the offices of The Urban Observer, the local paper which previously published several of her works on sociology and anthropology. I wonder if Natalie's in yet.

  Rebecca made her way to the entrance, nodded to the guard, and crossed the hall to the receptionist's desk.

  The woman's face split with a smile, "Why Mrs. Hurst! It's you! I didn't recognize you at first in that outfit."r />
  "Is Natalie already in?" She knew Natalie liked to sleep late and work late.

  "As a matter of fact, she is. She was the first one in today. She shut herself up in her office and said not to pass any calls to her. There's a lot of work this week, but I'm sure she'll see you."

  Natalie, a tiny slip of a woman, could barely be seen behind the open screen of her laptop. Only the top of her bushy, flaming hair was visible as she pressed a phone between her ear and shoulder while furiously typing.

  "It won't do. I'm telling you, it won't do. We've covered it at least twice in the past three months. The public is getting sick of it."

  Rebecca knocked on the frame of the open door as Natalie set the phone on the desk.

  "Who's that?" she called, clearly irritated. "It's a busy morning here and… Becky! What a lovely surprise! Come in. Close the door." She rose and walked around the desk to share a hug. "I see you've been taking care of yourself. An early morning jog, huh? Good for you. I'm trying to keep my energy here using whatever means I can." A mischievous grin accompanied her nod at the little aluminum tray on her desk that held a large sugar-frosted doughnut and a steaming cup of coffee. She saw Rebecca's eyes close as she inhaled the aroma, and said, "Coffee? We have a lovely new machine downstairs that makes addictive lattes."

  "Thanks, I'd love one."

  Natalie waved her friend into a chair as she slid back behind her desk. The two talked about family and friends for the few minutes until the coffee arrived, filling the room with the delicious smells of vanilla and caramel. Rebecca took a sip and sighed as the flavors lingered on her tongue.

  Natlie's friendly smile morphed into a shrewd one. "So. Did you just happen to pass by to say hello, or are you working on something new?"

  "Actually, I am. Can I use your computer?"

  Natalie waved her around and Rebecca leaned over and began typing. A minute later, she began showing her several of the articles she found and printed out at home, accompanying each piece with detailed explanations of their individual and combined effects. When she finished, she glanced at Natalie and found her lips tightly pressed together as her head shook the slightest bit.