by Hannah Ross
Barry shrugged. "Suit yourself. If you think men who came here to take your lands, and then tried to kill you, don't deserve to do a little work to pay for their board, that's fine by me. I just said what I think."
"Well, it could be a sensible idea," Thunder Cloud said. "Keep these men safely tied up at the wrists, you hear? But let them eat and drink and don't mistreat them. They are going to stay with us for a while."
"Two things," Barry said.
"What?"
"Have some people spread out and check police stations in abandoned towns. They'll likely find weapons and ammunition and, hopefully, bullet-proof vests that'll save some lives if shooting starts again."
Even Ben had to admit that was a good idea. "What's the other?"
"Get the word out for someone who might be able to start making counterfeit IDs."
* * *
After gathering the shivering captives, the Resistance fighters ransacked the laborer headquarters, looking for anything that could be useful. Canned and dry food, tools, blankets and rubber boots, and of course, guns and ammo were all neatly packed away.
"We should burn this whole goddamn place down," Darren said with a bitter twitch of his mouth.
"Too dangerous," Ben said, "we could start a forest fire. No way would we be able to put it out."
They walked toward the horses, which were nibbling on some stringy grass while they waited.
"It will be a long walk to the next camp," Thunder Cloud observed. "We can put the equipment on the horses' backs, but they can't carry us all. We'll have to go on foot."
"I'm giving you fair warning, Barry," Ben said as he found himself walking close to the Bear. "You had some good ideas there, and the others might think they can trust you, because they don't know you. But I do. I'll be waiting for you to make one wrong move, and when you do, I'm going to leap right on it."
Barry made no sign to show he was listening. He just walked on, his hands in his pockets, as if he didn't have a care in the world.
16
________________________________
"See, isn't this better, now?" Priscilla said in a soothing voice as she placed a cool damp cloth on the little boy's brow. "Lay still for a while, Trevor, and I'll be right back with some nice soup for you to eat."
"I don't want no soup. I want my mama!" the boy said, kicking around and throwing off his covers. The damp cloth, however, remained plastered to his brow. Priscilla sighed and straightened the blanket again.
"I'll be right back. And after you eat, I'll tell you a story. What do you say?"
The boy sniffled. "What kind of story?"
Priscilla smiled. "A nice new one. You've never heard it before."
"Well," Trevor said, reluctantly settling down, "Alright, then. Just be back soon, OK?"
Priscilla couldn't be annoyed with Trevor, however demanding he grew at times. The six-year-old boy arrived with his mother and a group of other refugees some weeks ago. His mother was so weak her companions practically had to carry her all the way. A week after she arrived in camp, she passed away. In her last moments she told Priscilla that she had felt increasingly worse since receiving the so-called flu vaccine given to all adults in the camp, and begged her to take care of her son.
As Priscilla stepped out of the teepee, she saw Jill walking toward her, balancing Ian on her hip. When the toddler saw his mother, he wriggled in Jill's arms until she let him down, then tottered over to Priscilla and hugged her knees.
"Hi there, sweetie," Priscilla said, picking him up and nuzzling his cheek. "Did you have a good time with Auntie Jill? Thanks for looking after him."
Jill shrugged. "It was nothing. Playing with Ian is a lot easier than taking care of those poor people. I mean... giving the women a pottery or a hide tanning lesson is fine, but caring for the sick... I bet you think I'm a real wimp, don't you?" She shared a guilty smile. "That's what Mom used to say when I wouldn't put more effort into learning medicine from her, or refused to join her when she used to go to help mothers deliver their babies. She always says sickness and death are a part of life, and one better know how to deal with them."
"Gabby is a brave woman. Not everyone can do what she does."
"Leslie is real good at it all, though," Jill said, referring to Andy and Edeline's daughter, who was two years younger than herself. "She's been going along to help Mom deliver babies for a year now, and when Darren fell from a tree and got that deep cut on his thigh, she stitched him up as good as Mom would have done. Now she's thinking of going to learn herbal medicine from Elisa."
"Elisa is the best. I'm still glad there's a real hospital in Resurrection Town now, though. I wish it weren't so understaffed."
"It doesn't help those who have no IDs or money, which is why Dad had this idea that Mom and healers from other camps would get together and exchange skills, pass on their experience to other people who want to learn. Set up a kind of a free school, basically."
"That's a really good idea. I think Gabby and the other healers should go for it when things calm down a bit." She looked around as they slowly walked between the lodges. "The camp looks empty. Where are Midnight Fox and everyone?"
"Midnight Fox set everyone up on a big hunt. We're going through a lot more food with all the new people."
"Why didn't you go as well?"
Jill rolled her eyes. "It's too much for me sometimes, honestly. I mean, Midnight Fox has been following me around for some time now. It's like I can't make three steps anywhere around the camp without bumping into him."
Priscilla smiled. "I know you like him."
"He's alright, but this doesn't mean that I–"
A child came running toward them. "Auntie Jill, when are we having lunch?"
"In a moment. We've set up a few big pots for everyone. Are you coming, Prissy?"
"Right away," Priscilla said, scanning the valley with her eyes.
Though she knew Ben couldn't possibly return so soon, she couldn't help herself. She received more tidings of him and the Resistance from recently arrived refugees and according to her latest intelligence, Ben seemed to be doing fine and was unscathed. She supposed she ought to be thankful for that. But she couldn't stop herself from climbing up to the highest point near the camp and looking down at the surrounding area from there, every single day. Some part of her, a childish part that ought to have disappeared a long time ago, yearned for someone to tell her that it was all a mistake, that Ben would come today, and the two of them, and little Ian, could go back to the quiet and lovely life in their dear home, and never hear about anything that might disturb their peace again.
She looked again, more out of force of habit than anything else. There was someone. She couldn't quite make out who it was yet, but there were two figures on horseback. As they approached the camp, Priscilla frowned. They look like… But why would they ride horses rather than use their car?
As the distance between them shortened, she could no longer doubt. "Kate!" she cried out, beside herself with mingled excitement and worry. "Tony! What are you doing here again?"
Priscilla's sister-in-law dismounted, holding to the reins of the horse. Her face was flushed and sweaty, her hair windblown. Tony's stiff posture as he got off the horse suggested that despite time and experience, riding was still far from his idea of a good time. Though he winced, he didn't complain.
"Well, we did it," Kate said with great satisfaction. "Kicked the hornet's nest and did it so thoroughly that we might have to stay in hiding for the rest of our lives."
"I don't understand," Priscilla said. "What happened? Where did you come from? Where is your car?"
"Wait a minute," Jill said, looking carefully at the horses. "Aren't these from our camp?"
Tony nodded. "Yes - Kate's mom drove us out there. We only dared to stay with the family for a few hours, and maybe we shouldn't have gone to the farm at all, but it was unbearable to be so near the children and not stop to see them. But then we had to get going, and quick. Stayed a couple of days with the Eag
les. They're all fine at the camp, by the way, and give their love. Then we headed here. Hoped we might run into Ben on our way, but that didn't happen. Figured we might as well make ourselves useful here for a while."
"I still don't get this," Priscilla said, fighting a prickle of disappointment. She hoped Kate and Tony would be able to give her some more detailed news of Ben. "What happened? Did you blow your cover? Are they looking for you to arrest you?"
"More likely they'll shoot us on sight," Tony said. "In a nutshell, we brought the sick and injured victims of the Registry program into public view." He proceeded to tell his little audience all about it. Jill whooped and cheered, but Priscilla, though approving, was less enthusiastic.
"What's the matter, Pris?" Kate asked. "I'd think that's something to be pleased about. It's a little victory. Now, at least, everybody knows what the White Tower is really up to. The whole business stinks to high heaven. They won't be able to go on with it."
Priscilla gave a tiny shake of the head. "You don't know them the way I do, Kate. They don't really care about what people think or say, unless they're losing potential voters. And they'll come up with their own story to explain it all away, or I learned nothing from all the time I spent spying on my father."
There was a canter of many hooves as the column of hunters made its way back to the camp. They brought down a large deer, which they already butchered and cut into chunks. The red-stained cloth sacks bulging with bloody meat looked forbidding, but Priscilla knew enough to anticipate all the good food that would be made of it.
"A good day's work," Midnight Fox said, satisfied, getting off his horse and leading it to drink. "A pity you didn't come, Laughing Creek," he told Jill, who restrained herself from rolling her eyes with great difficulty.
"Look who's here, Midnight Fox," Priscilla said, pointing at Kate and Tony, which was necessary to grab the young man's attention and make him tear his eyes off Jill. Midnight Fox brightened and stuck out his hand.
"Welcome back. I hope everything is fine? Did you happen to run into Thunder Cloud and the others?"
"No, but we've heard some news of them." Tony's face grew somber. "Apparently, they're planning to head on to other Zone C areas to rescue more people the Registry placed there."
Priscilla bit her lip. "That could be dangerous, and not just because of the Registry men. They don't have any protective gear, do they?"
Kate reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "We have to trust their judgment. They're doing what must be done."
* * *
Everyone lingered around the large common fire for a long time that night. The sky was fine and clear, strewn with stars. Little Ian fell asleep in Priscilla's lap, and she sat very still, shielding his eyes from the flames.
"You'll be blacklisted for as long as you live," she told Kate. "If the White Tower doesn't collapse, they'll eventually find a way to get back at you. You can no longer go back to the Boundary, or even Resurrection Town."
Kate shrugged. "I guess so. Tony and I will have to take the kids and move deeper into the country. I'm not worried, though. We can stay away from the government areas and still do well. You, on the other hand..."
"What about me?"
"You're Alexander Dahl's daughter. Wait, I don't mean it that way. But you've seen and heard many things. You lived right in the middle of it all. They didn't know you were listening, but you were smarter than they thought. You could tell all you know, all you've heard over the years about their crazy eugenics policy and their megalomaniacal plans to set up a supremacy order. Their methods of hiding things from people and removing those who threaten them. People would listen to you. They wouldn't dare to arrest you or remove you, either. You're one of the Dahls, after all."
Priscilla looked at Kate with narrowed eyes. "Tell all I've ever heard? Would that do any good?"
Kate shrugged again. "It wouldn't hurt to try."
17
________________________________
"You're leaving too, like mama did," Trevor said, his voice full of disappointment. "I hoped you wouldn't leave."
Priscilla swallowed the lump that obstructed her throat. She, Trevor and little Ian were arranging flowers near the cairn that marked the grave of Trevor's mother, down in a quiet shady nook next to the stream.
"I'm not leaving forever," Priscilla promised. "I'm coming back for you, Trev. And if your Daddy isn't found by then, well, you can come and stay with us until we figure out where he is." This was a bold promise to make in her husband's absence, but she knew Ben well enough to be sure he wouldn't object.
Trevor's eyes brightened. "Honest? You won't forget me? Promise?"
"Not in a million years." Priscilla smiled, ruffled his hair, and lingered out there for a long time, though she knew she really ought to be packing.
She didn't take much with her. She was going to ride northeast at least as far as Sidney and Elisa's homestead, and wanted to travel lightly. A couple of people who planned to join the Resistance would go with her and Ian as escorts.
Rationally, Priscilla didn't anticipate any trouble. She had her documents, the ID and passes she never used until now, and her formidable family name. No one would dare to stop or question me. So why do I feel so nervous?
"You have to be careful," Kate said. "Not so much for your own sake, but for that of the others. Those who wouldn't dare to touch you might very easily crush whoever is helping you spread your message. When you're within the Boundary, get in contact with Linda and Troy. They'll know what to do."
Priscilla nodded. "Thanks, Kate. I wish you could come with me."
Kate patted her shoulder. "So do I, but Tony and I really must lie low. We don't dare to risk going back to the Boundary. At least not right now. You go along, Prissy. You'll be in good company, and so will we. Just..." Kate's eyes misted over with longing. "Stop by my mom and dad's place if you can, and tell them and the children that we're OK, and that we miss them."
* * *
Priscilla loved riding, but by the end of the third day, she was exhausted and wished she could fall asleep, like Ian, who was securely held to her waist by a wide elastic strap.
Some of the Freeborn settlers now began fashioning wheeled buggies and covered wagons, in the manner of the Old Days, to be pulled by their horses. It was convenient for transporting cargo and people who found it difficult to ride for a long time, and she sorely wished they had one.
The two young men riding along with her were refugees who recovered their health and strength, and were now anxious to put their efforts into fighting for the Freeborn. One of the men, Harry, was more of a boy, barely sixteen. The other, Wes, was about Priscilla's age, and had a woman and two children who were left behind in one of the Registry camps. Wes was a silent type, but often Priscilla would see him stare into the distance just like she did, and knew that he was wondering what might have happened to his family.
Not long after lunch, her heart leapt as they caught a glimpse of a temporary camp in the distance, but to her disappointment, the camp was empty. It was probably used by the Resistance fighters for a couple of days, and then abandoned.
They had also run into a camp which, following Thunder Cloud's example, adopted a nomadic lifestyle as the most effective strategy for avoiding the Registry. These people, with whom they stayed overnight, provided some vital information. The Resistance rangers led by Thunder Cloud went to the southeast to liberate more people who were held in Pollution Zone C labor camps. Priscilla didn't tell anyone her husband was one of the rangers, and listened with an anxious heart to the many praises attributed to the Resistance heroes.
"They won't leave no man behind," said the leader of the camp, a wiry, rather short man with a long fang dangling from his earring. "And they've freed folks from many of the Registry camps, and helped others escape. The White Tower don't like 'em none. I tell you that."
Of that Priscilla was sure.
* * *
The next day, she and her companions received a gris
ly proof of how much the White Tower had become annoyed with the Resistance.
Late in the morning, as they were riding through a copse of sparsely growing trees, Harry pointed and cried, "Look! There's men tied up to the trees over there!"
They turned their horses in the direction he pointed, eager to help fellow Freeborn who might be in trouble, but soon Priscilla realized something was wrong. The men did not struggle or move at all; they did not cry out for help. As they approached, it became clear that they were dead. They had been tied to the trees and shot square in the chest. Judging by the look of them, they had been around for a few days at least.
Priscilla covered Ian's eyes with her hand, ran off to the side and, in one great heave, vomited her breakfast. Ian, who never before saw his mother like that, searched his little vocabulary for words that would properly express his concern:
"Mama hurt?"
Priscilla tried to give him a reassuring smile and squeezed him tight. "Mama's fine," she whispered. "Mama just felt queasy there for a second, that's all."
Harry came over to Priscilla, looking slightly green in the face. He held a tin plaque with something printed on it. Priscilla took it and began to read:
"These men were executed by government troops for putting up violent resistance to the beneficial Registry program. Their example will be a warning to others who might think of standing in the way of federal law. We call all Illegals to arrange their status by presenting themselves at the Registry camps and signing up for an ID. Those who collaborate with the rebels will be unmercifully punished."
Wes, who read it over Priscilla's shoulder, looked grim. "We ought to get going, now, and choose a more sheltered route from now on. Don't want to be seen by these whoresons."
Harry objected. "We can't leave them like this. We have to bury them."
Wes shrugged. "I ain't got no spade, and I'm not digging with my hands."
Priscilla wiped her eyes, pushing away the image of Ben tied up and held at gunpoint, thrown down to the ground, shot... "We could cut off those ropes and burn them. It will be better than leaving them for the carrion crows."