by Hannah Ross
Priscilla opened her eyes and picked up her son with a guilty smile. She could not allow herself to break down. She had to stay strong for his sake. "Come on, little champ. Let's find us something to eat."
* * *
"Calling an All Camps Meeting used to be easier when we lived in the city," Ben observed.
Thunder Cloud gave an indifferent shrug. "I could never understand why people would choose to live in those great echoing empty shells. Whenever I come into the abandoned towns for loot, I get goosebumps all over me. The less we have to go there, the better, as far as I'm concerned."
"But how are we going to pass a message to everyone so we can get them together? If we just send people to spread the word, it'll take weeks at the very least."
Thunder Cloud smiled. "Don't be so sure, Ben. People used to communicate from afar long before they had phones or radio, you know."
At their next stop, which was on the summit of a hill, Thunder Cloud made a neat fire and lit it, and then, when it was burning brightly, threw some fresh green grass and pinecones onto the flames. The fire immediately began to smoke and a thick, grey column rose up to the sky. To his immense surprise, a few minutes later Ben noticed a similar fire and smoke to the east.
"Signal fires!" he exclaimed.
Thunder Cloud nodded, looking pleased with himself. "We set up this system for emergency communication a few years back, and as you can see, it comes in handy now. A strong fire and plentiful smoke means danger and a call for everyone to meet. There is a meeting place to the east. Now that we've put out the signal, the other camps will do the same, and I'm sure we'll find everyone there when we arrive."
* * *
It took Thunder Cloud and his people nearly two full days of riding to reach the meeting place, a little valley between two low hills, accessible enough so Kate and Tony were able to bring their car quite near. A few teepees were already set up alongside some modern camping tents, which put Thunder Cloud in a rather good mood. "I see the people have begun to arrive," he said, gesturing for everyone to ride forward.
Their arrival was soon noticed, and a colorful crowd came forward to meet them. Ben noticed that not everyone followed the Old Ways of the First Nations, as evidenced by the various attires. Some women came along with the men and he noted the absence of children.
"Thunder Cloud!" exclaimed a young man with a plaited goatee. "Were you the one to set up the first signal?"
"Yes, Beaver," Thunder Cloud said, giving the man an affectionate pat on the back. "Thank you for coming so soon. Are we expecting more people?"
"Yes, I expect the meeting site will be full in a day or two. People are moving this way as we speak." Beaver threw a curious glance at Kate and Tony, who got out of the car and approached. "Care to fill us in, though, Thunder Cloud? Why are we here?"
"I'm sure you already have a guess or two. Things have never looked as bad for the Freeborn as they do now."
"Yes." Beaver nodded in a somber way. "We used to think the worst thing the Boundary people could do to us is leave us stranded out here. But what they are doing now is a lot worse. It seems there's no chance they are going to leave us alone now."
"Unless we make it clear the game just isn't worth it for them," said Ben. "Have you thought of a resistance strategy, Thunder Cloud?"
"Resistance?" Beaver repeated. "You actually mean to fight them, then?"
"Of course. Don't you? If we give up on fighting, we might just as well hand ourselves over to them on a silver platter right away."
"So what do you think we can do?"
"Attacking the larger Registry camps is out of the question right now, unfortunately," Thunder Cloud said. "We just don't have the resources for that. Not yet, anyway. But we can target smaller camps and the Registry points that are scattered around the country. We can sabotage government vehicles as they drive around to make inspections or take people to camps. And we can help any refugees we meet on the way, which will hopefully convince them to join the resistance."
Beaver gave an approving nod. "Well said. We should call a summit so you can speak in front of everyone who has arrived. Or, come to think of it, it might be better to wait another day or two until more people come along."
* * *
The next day brought a surprise. A large party of riders arrived from the east, and among the crowd Ben saw a few familiar faces. He was not the only one to recognize them.
As he was squinting, trying to make sure he was not mistaken, Darren exclaimed, "The Ravens! Fancy seeing them here! I wonder how they heard of the meeting."
"The signal fires work well," said Thunder Cloud. "Hello, Raven, and well met! It's been a long time since we saw you last."
"Good to see you, Thunder Cloud," replied Raven, shaking hands. "Hi, Ben. I heard you went south. And you too, Darren. Way to go, kiddo."
"Hi," said Taylor, Raven's man, shaking hands with everyone. "I'm glad to see so many people here. Frankly, it's more than I expected."
"Where's Priscilla?" asked Raven.
"Priscilla stayed back at the Western camp with Ian," Ben said. "What about Maddie?"
Raven and Taylor had a little girl who, at three years old, promised to be as good a rider as her mother. "She stayed back at the camp. I couldn't bring her along, naturally, and I couldn't stay behind, either. Taylor said I should, but I quickly put him in his place. I told him he can stay behind if he wants to."
Ben grinned. That is so like Raven. The only way to make her stay behind in a situation like this would be to tie her hand and foot. "Hey there, Fred. Nice to see you, Dan." he said, exchanging handshakes and pats on the shoulder with his old acquaintances from the Ravens' camp. There were also some younger camp members, all mounted on the tamed mustangs the Ravens were so good at breaking in.
"Nice horse." Ben nodded at Raven's chestnut mare. He had never seen this horse before.
"Yes," she agreed, patting the animal's glossy neck. "But no horse can compare to Ink. You remember her, Ben? The best horse that ever was." Raven stared wistfully into the distance for a moment, then shook her head, as if dispelling melancholy thoughts. "So what's the plan? Are we going to kick some government ass?"
"Going to try to keep them from making us into a tame flock of sheep, for starters."
"Yes, well, that's a start. They've got some nerve, I say. First they said we were good for nothing and locked us in those hellhole orphanages for twelve years. Then they declared they can't afford to keep us anymore and kicked us out, caring little if we live or die. Now that we've made a good life for ourselves they come to claim us as their own. I say we don't put up with it."
"Maybe we could go south, cross the border to Mexico," Beaver suggested. "Or… no, listen, this is an idea. We could go up north to Alaska. It's too far and too cold, they won't follow us there."
"We can't all leave everything behind and scarper off to Alaska," Raven said. "We aren't running. We're going to stick to our lands. What about you?"
"I say we must fight," said Ben. "Because if we run, they might not follow us today, or tomorrow, or next year... but they'll catch up with us eventually."
Raven nodded. "Well said, Ben. Those who act like prey, will become prey. Our only way is to strike back."
The first opportunity to resist the Registry campaign came sooner than they thought. They spent a day making a coarse outline of the rebellion plan which, despite its primitive nature, was more complex and long-term than any plan the various camps ever made together. Here is our chief weakness, reflected Ben. Most of the people don't want to commit to any steady effort. They just want to go home.
* * *
The Meeting Place was still a camp, however – or rather, a combination of several big, noisy camps patched together – and daily chores still had to be tended to. Everyone had to eat, which meant people had to take care of hunting and preparing meals. It was a comparatively easy task since there were many herds of deer and elk around. The meat was good both roasted and boiled, and the
surplus was dried to be eaten while traveling when the All Camps Meeting dispersed.
It was on one such hunting foray with some of Thunder Cloud's people, and some of the Ravens, that Ben saw the old plain-looking grey bus, slowly edging its way down the old road. "That's just like the bus they drove us in across the Boundary all those years ago."
"There's no reason for buses to be here," Thunder Cloud said, "unless..."
He didn't need to go on. They all knew what he meant. This bus was either here with the intention of herding people to the Registry camps, or it was carrying some poor unfortunates already.
What they should do was another question. There weren't many of them, and they were geared for hunting, not fighting. On the other hand, once the people were taken by the Registry, they would be much harder to rescue.
"We have no choice," Raven said, one hand tightly clasping her bow.
Swerving her horse, she directed it to the crumbling old road down which the bus was slowly crawling. Ben joined her and they led several others down to the road, stopping when their horses blocked the path of the steel-grey bus with its windows of the darkened reinforced glass. The driver honked. Ben lifted up his rifle, pointing it at the bus, and several other people did the same, betting the bus didn't hold more than a couple of armed Boundary men.
The driver honked once more. "Get out of the bus with your arms up and your hands empty," said Raven in a high, carrying voice. "Leave your weapons inside. You play games, we shoot. It's that simple."
The front door opened and two men came out, shaking all over, with their arms held up. "Good," Thunder Cloud said. "Now turn around and keep your hands up." He gestured to some of his men. "Search them to make sure they're unarmed."
"What do you want from us?" one of the men asked in an unsteady voice. "We weren't bothering you."
"What about the other men in there?" Ben said. "Were you by any chance bothering them?"
As if on cue, a crowd of no less than thirty people, men, women and children, looking tired and ragged, poured out of the bus. A great swell of cheering rose among them. One of the men picked up the two rifles, shiny and new-looking, which were dropped by the bus driver and the guard, and tossed them down at Ben's feet.
"Thank you, friends," he said. "I didn't expect anyone would save us from these slave-mongers."
"Slave mongers!" exclaimed one of the government men. "We were only taking this lot down to the Registry camp, where they would be taken good care of and put to some useful work."
Ben's mouth twitched. "Yes, instead of taking care of themselves at their own place and being their own men. Well, we're not holding anyone back. If any of you want a ride to the Registry camp, don't let us stand in your way."
A wave of sniggering provided enough of an answer to his suggestion. "Thought so," Ben said. "You," he told the driver, "hand over the keys. This bus stays here."
The man's eyes rounded in horror. "How are we supposed to make it back? We'll never be able to find our way on foot."
Thunder Cloud shrugged, unimpressed. "Go back east. Follow the old roads and you'll get to the Boundary Islands in the end. If you get hungry, seek out the Freeborn. They are compassionate folk, they won't let you starve."
"Thank you," said one of the freed men again. "We owe you. Don't know what to do now, though. If we get back to our old camp they'll catch us again."
"Some of the men should probably take the families south or west into the mountains," Ben said. "You'll be relatively safe there for now, anyway. Those who are able and willing, though, are welcome to join us. We are taking on the Registry men and proving to them that the Freeborn are not as helpless as they thought."
Those with wives and children opted to seek safety with their families. The remaining six men all came to join Thunder Cloud, Ben, Raven and the other fighters.
"You had better take the bus," said Taylor. "The children will find it difficult to walk so far, and we can't put everyone on horseback. Does anyone know how to drive it?"
Heads shook all around.
"I guess I'll have to. A couple of the new guys can share my horse 'till I meet up with you all again."
Ben was surprised. "You can drive this thing?"
Taylor shrugged. "Had some opportunities to learn."
"Then go ahead." He turned to the family men. "Taylor will take you all to a camp that will take in your families. Then you can come back again and join the resistance, or stay in the camp if there's need to. The camps can't be stripped off all their warriors. Someone must stay."
When the sound of the engine died away in the distance, the remaining party was left face to face with the desperate-looking driver and guard.
"Here," Raven said, taking out a small bag of traveling supplies. "Take this and head east. With some luck you'll be fine."
The two men looked at each other. "This ain't fair, now," one of them claimed. "We ain't got nothing personal against you Wild Children. We're just doing our job."
"We know," said Thunder Cloud, "which is why we're letting you go. You would do well to deliver a message to your superiors, though. Tell them we won't be taken like sheep for slaughter. Tell them they had better leave us alone."
The two dejected men started their slow trek northeast.
"Well, this was a good night's work," said Thunder Cloud. "Let's get back to the meeting camp. We have some spare horses for you there," he told the new recruits. "For now you can ride double."
The new men looked uncertain. "We're no horsemen," one of them said.
"Never mind," Ben said. "A few riding lessons, and you'll be fine. We all have to learn on the job if we want to survive."
11
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"Don't you wish we could hear from them?" Jill said with a sigh.
Priscilla sighed as well. "I do. But we have no way to contact them, so we just have to wait and hope for the best."
"I'm worried about Darren. We used to always be together, you know. I don't reckon we spent three days apart in all our lives. It feels weird, not knowing where he is."
"Yes," Priscilla said, balancing Ian on her knee and staring into space. "Ben and I were scarcely ever apart from the time we got married to when I first visited my family." Her head shook. "It's strange, but that visit seemed to set all this in motion. Or maybe it was already all planned and it was just a coincidence it all started soon after I returned."
She squared her shoulders, determined to make it through with dignity. She had tasks of her own to attend to while her husband was fighting for the liberty of the Freeborn. She cared for little Ian, helped tend and tame the horses, learned how to set up a teepee, cure a hide, and make a sunburnt clay pot, and in between, together with Jill, helped and advised new refugees, who were having trouble trying to adjust to their new life.
From outside the teepee, they heard Midnight Fox say, "Hey, Jill, Priscilla. You might want to come out. We have some new arrivals."
The two women stepped out and stared where Midnight Fox pointed. They saw a row of people, families by the look of them, coming up to the camp. One man, walking slightly apart from the rest, brought up the rear.
Midnight Fox squinted. "That's Taylor! What's he doing here? Their camp is pretty far. Tay, man, this is a surprise. You've brought some people to stay with us, I see."
"Yup," Taylor said, shaking hands with Midnight Fox. "These are some families we saved from being whisked away to a Registry camp. Took over the bus and drove them here."
Midnight Fox let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Brilliant! You're all welcome here," he told the apprehensive-looking group. "We'll have to think how we're going to accommodate everyone, though," he added in a low voice to Priscilla and Jill.
"Did you just say you abducted a bus?" someone asked. "How did you manage to pull that one off?"
"It was easy enough," Taylor said, "though for a moment there I thought Thunder Cloud must have lost his marbles when he said to go ahead and take over."
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Midnight Fox brightened. "You've met up with our people, then?"
Priscilla was jolted to attention at once. "Have you seen Ben? How is he?"
"And my brother Darren," added Jill. "Is he alright?"
"They were all fine when I left," Taylor said. "They are recruiting more people, and I suppose we're going to hear more about them as other refugees come south."
Priscilla and Jill began ushering the tired women and children in the direction of the lodges that were being set up for the refugees, while the men lingered to talk to Taylor and Midnight Fox.
"Come on, let's get you something to eat and a place to rest," Priscilla said to the women. "It's pretty rough around here, and everyone has to pull their weight, but I hope you will be safe."
She spoke almost mechanically. This notice about her husband was reassuring and disconcerting at once. It appeared Thunder Cloud's people went straight into the thick of the resistance. Though this had been the plan, Priscilla secretly hoped for a respite, a reprieve – something, anything that would slow down the action and delay the moment when Ben would put himself in danger.
It was an irrational thought, she knew. Ben went northeast, leaving the relative safety of Thunder Cloud's camp, to fight the government Registry program. That was what he was doing. That was what he had to do to be able to maintain any degree of self-respect.
Little Ian, toddling on his chubby legs, ambled over and took hold of her pant leg. His face, tilted up to meet hers, mirrored her concern. "Mama?" he said with a tentative expression. Priscilla forced herself to smile as she picked him up. "Daddy will come back to us," she assured her son, though she knew he didn't understand her meaning. "He'll be back safe and sound. I know he will."
* * *
Ben looked south, fighting the urge to avert his eyes, as the landscape to the north was so much pleasanter.
What stretched to the south was commonly known as Pollution Zone C.
The post-war United States was roughly divided into a patchwork of three Pollution Zones: Zone A, which was cleared for long-term habitation and comprised the Boundary Islands; Zone B, where the Wild Children lived and which took up most of the country - pollution levels were varied per region and largely unmonitored, but most regions were basically fit for human habitation; and Zone C, areas of most dangerous and concentrated pollution, where only a few scientists, wearing full-scale protective suits, dared to venture.