Forager - the Complete Trilogy (A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Trilogy)

by Peter R Stone

  "We had problems getting back. Big problems, actually." I was thinking of Michal and Leigh. If I could only turn back time and find some way to defy King's orders to lead the trade delegation to Hamamachi, then Michal would still be alive. But no, if I'd done that, everyone in Hamamachi would be dead.

  "Are you and Nanako okay?" my mother asked anxiously.

  "Ah, yeah, pretty much."

  "That is such a relief! And I'm guessing you don't have much food in your flat after your absence? So why don't you two come over for dinner tonight?"

  I heard the pleading tone in her voice, and thought of her fretting over us for the past couple of days, so I covered the phone and turned to my wife. "Mother has invited us for dinner tonight."

  "Will your father be there?"

  "I expect so."

  Nanako hesitated, and I could see her mental gears whirring as she debated what to do. She didn't want to see him again either. "We can't exactly go around avoiding him for the rest of our lives, so let's go."

  Impressed by her commendable attitude – I figured she would have turned down the invitation – I uncovered the mouthpiece. "We will come."

  "That's wonderful, be here at six?"

  "Will do," I said, and hung up the phone.

  Nanako darted forward, grabbed my hand, and pulled me towards the door. "Come on, let's go shopping."

  We headed over to the commercial district and wandered down streets lined with barbershops, hair salons, supermarkets, green grocers, hardware stores, hat shops, women's clothes boutiques, haberdasheries, and stationary stores. As it was mid afternoon, there weren't that many people frequenting the stores. All the same, patrols of heavily armed and armoured Custodians reminded all that the law was always close by.

  Nanako soon found what she wanted, a store specialising in drapes, curtains and blinds, and excitedly pulled me inside after her.

  Like most stores in Newhome, it was small and cramped, with far too many items to fit on its overstocked shelves and displays. The result was untidy piles of rolled-up blinds leaning against the wall in one corner, boxes on the floor, and plastic-bagged drapes cluttering the floor. From the slightly musty smell, I think the place needed a bit of a spring-clean too.

  Nanako squatted on the floor beside the drapes and began sorting through them. The storekeeper, a portly, balding man, gaped at her, clearly shocked at what he no doubt considered an unladylike posture, and at her rather revealing attire.

  I quickly looked away and knelt beside her. "Find anything?"

  She held up a package of dark yellow drapes that featured a repeating pattern of white birds on light brown branches. "What do you think? It's even the right size."

  "They'll go great with the pale yellow we're using on the walls."

  "I know, right? They're a bit pricey, though," she said as she stood and took the drapes over the counter. "Excuse me, sir; I'll give you fifty bucks for these."

  I stood there and ogled at Nanako. I couldn't believe she was trying to haggle over the price of an item in a brick-and-mortar store. You could get away with it in some of the second-hand market stalls, but not in shops like this. I wasn't the only one surprised, either. The storekeeper’s mouth worked like a fish out of water until he finally found his voice. "Ma'am, as the price tag says, the drapes are seventy-five dollars."

  "I know, but I'm offering you fifty."

  The man turned a shade of deep red and turned to me. "Excuse me, sir, what association do you have with this young woman?"

  "She's my wife, sir."

  "Then kindly escort her from my store," he huffed.

  "Look, I'm sorry, but she's just immigrated to Newhome from..." I began to explain.

  "What are you doing, Ethan?" Nanako snapped, looking at me with a mixture of surprise and anger.

  "Sorry?" I asked, surprised by her reaction.

  "You're apologising for me? Right in front of me?"

  "No! I wouldn't do that." I tried to assure her.

  "Then what were you doing?" she demanded as she took a step closer, glaring up at me from beneath her bangs.

  My face went bright red from embarrassment. From realising I'd made such an insensitive mistake – and because the shopkeeper was standing there watching us. I swiftly tried to dig myself out of the hole I had gotten myself into, "It's just that..."

  "Just what?"

  "We don't haggle over prices in the stores here, we pay what's on the tag," I tried to explain softly.

  "That's absurd, you should always haggle over prices," she objected, and then, suddenly aware of the shopkeeper watching us, stormed out of the store.

  I watched her go, feeling confused and hurt. This was the first time she'd been angry with me like this, and it came as something of a shock.

  "How can you let her speak to you like that?" the shopkeeper asked condescendingly.

  "She's from Hamamachi," I replied.

  "So?"

  "So, their culture enjoys more freedoms than ours does. For one, the women are treated as equals there," I snapped.

  The shopkeeper snorted. "Boy, you are so naive. You'd better get her under control before it's too late."

  I didn't even bother dignifying that comment with a reply but rushed out to find Nanako. She was looking in the window of the neighbouring store, but frowned at me when I hesitantly joined her.

  "What took you so long?" she asked.

  "Sorry, got caught up with the shop keeper."

  "Making more apologies for me?" she accused.

  "No! Quite the opposite, actually," I said, my eyes wide with alarm.

  "Is that right?" she asked, but from the tone of her voice, I could tell her anger was melting away.

  "Look, I'm sorry, I..."

  She pressed a finger to my lips to stop me talking. "I never could stay angry with you for long." She gave me a heart-warming upside-down smile and grabbed my hand. "Let's go find a shop that sells drapes and doesn't charge like a wounded bull."

  "Sounds like a plan," I laughed, relieved she wasn't still mad at me.

  We went into store after store. To my relief, she didn't try to haggle over any more prices but looked for items that fit into our budget instead. We ended up buying cheaper curtains, a vacuum-packed doona, a pair of doona covers, fitted sheets, a shower curtain, and a bunch of things to fit out the kitchen: saucepans, frying pan, cutting board, strainer, and a new knife.

  Our second to last stop was a discount clothes boutique. Nanako pawed through rack after rack of Newhome-style conservative dresses until she finally pulled out a simple ankle-length, full-sleeve black dress. She held it up to show me, smiling broadly. "I like."

  "You know that's a funeral dress, right?" I said with a chuckle.

  "It is? Well, that's okay; we wear black clothes to wedding receptions."

  "That's a tad morbid, isn't it?" I wished Shorty were here, the jokes he would have cracked at that revelation would have had me in stitches.

  "Nah, black’s the best."

  "Well, you can buy it if you want, but people are going to stare."

  "I don’t mind."

  "Well I do, if it’s guys who are doing the staring," I huffed with feigned displeasure.

  "What’s that, jealously that I hear?"

  "Absolutely," I assured her with mock seriousness.

  She folded the dress over her arm and made her way to the sales counter. "Anyway, it's only until I can make my own clothes."

  Our last stop was the market to buy meat and veggies, so off we went, our hands loaded up with bags. Well, my right one was. This would have been a lot easier if I could've used both hands.

  The market differed from the rest of the commercial sector in that it was mostly open-air stalls selling foodstuffs. Most of the shoppers here were either older women, or young women accompanied by older women acting as their chaperones. The only males present were the stallholders, a couple of squads of Custodians on patrol, and me.

  I took the rest of the shopping bags from Nanako,
holding the lighter ones with my left hand, so she had two hands with which to shop.

  She had just filled a bag with beans when the shoppers and stallholders around us suddenly stepped away with great haste. I looked up and saw a squad of four Custodians striding towards us. I gripped Nanako's shoulder, who upon realising something was amiss, turned to face them too.

  Had David and Shorty gone and blabbed to someone what had really happened in Hamamachi? Had the colonel changed his mind and they were here to lock us up? Or worst of all, did Consultant Singhe tell them I was an echolocater and they were here to drag me off to be euthanized?

  My pulse was racing and my face blanched with fear by the time the burly, Anglo-Saxon Aussie officer in charge of the squad stopped in front of us. The three privates spread out to either side of him, assault-rifles held menacingly at the ready.

  "Ma’am," he said to Nanako in a sickly sweet, condescending voice. "Where is your chaperone?"

  Nanako glanced unsurely at me, and then answered. "I am with my husband, sir."

  The Custodian examined me as though I was something unsanitary he had stepped on. Then he looked Nanako slowly up and down, his eyes lingering on her legs and the view of her slightly exposed thighs.

  "Is that right? Well ma’am, as you are wearing inappropriate, sexually suggestive clothing in public, I am placing you under arrest. You will accompany us to Custodian Headquarters to be charged."

  Chapter Ten

  "Sir, please let me explain," I began, and then hesitated. I was about to 'make excuses' for Nanako like I had in the curtain shop, and as I didn't want to anger her again, I frantically looked for a different way to approach the situation.

  However, before I could work out what to say, the Custodian officer lifted a hand to stop me. "Planning on obstructing the course of justice with half-baked excuses, Citizen? I’m afraid that just won’t do. And come to think of it, I suspect your wife is concealing banned substances on her person." He fixed us with a hideous, mocking smile and turned to one of his men. "Private Kirkwood, frisk the woman and check for drugs."

  Having heard horror stories about Custodians frisking women, I quickly moved in front of her. "Sir, I am Ethan Jo..."

  I got no further. Private Kirkwood rammed his gun into my solar plexus, winding me so severely that I doubled over and dropped to my knees, where I desperately tried to draw a breath. The shopping bags I had been holding slipped from my hands and spilled their contents all over the ground. From my peripheral vision I saw shoppers and stallholders almost trip over themselves to get further away from this ugly scene.

  "Put your hands on your head and spread your legs!" the private shouted in Nanako's face. Powerless to do anything to stop this invasion of my wife's privacy, I watched in dismay as the Custodian frisked Nanako from neck to foot, his hands lingering over her breasts and groin. Nanako was clearly enraged, but she focused on me with tears in her eyes as I writhed in pain and desperately tried to breathe.

  "She's clean, sir," the private announced.

  I somehow managed to push myself up and regained my feet. I was both fuming with rage and scared out of my wits. One wrong move here and the Custodians wouldn’t hesitate to use lethal force.

  "Step back, Citizen!" the Custodian private shouted as he shoved his gun in my face. The other two privates lifted their weapons as well

  "Your name," I wheezed.

  "Excuse me?" snapped the private.

  "Not yours, Private Kirkwood, his," I spat between gasps for breath as I pointed at the officer.

  "My name is Major Harris, Citizen," bellowed the broad-shouldered, blue-eyed Custodian officer. "Now step back or Private Kirkwood will give you another taste of his gun. And you, ma’am, will come with us."

  "Major Harris," I said, blinking continuously thanks to the gun in my face. "As I was trying to say, I am Ethan Jones, and this is my wife Nanako. We are two of the four surviving members of the party that was sent to Hamamachi last Friday. We arrived back in Newhome this morning, and have just minutes ago been released from Custodian Headquarters after a lengthy debriefing. Upon our release, we came straight here to buy clothing appropriate for Nanako to wear in Newhome."

  "I’m sorry, Mr. Jones, there is no excuse for wearing inappropriate clothing in public," the major said in a patronizing tone. "Now step aside or I will have you arrested for obstructing the course of justice."

  Although I was quaking with fear, I held my head high and refused to be cowed. "But sir, you say she must wear appropriate clothing in public, yet she couldn't get this appropriate clothing until she ventured into public to buy it, which is what we were doing. And," I bent down and plucked her new black dress off the ground, "here is the proof – we just purchased this dress for her to wear. Please reconsider your decision."

  The major stared at us for a painfully long time, and then said, "Private Kirkwood, write Mrs. Jones a citation for a Class C indecent exposure in a public venue."

  The private pulled out his ticket book, wrote the citation, and shoved it into my hands. And with that, the four of them continued on their way. As they went, I overheard Private Kirkwood giving a detailed description of Nanako’s body to his comrades. I wanted to rush after him, wrest the gun out of his hands, and pump them all full of holes. I was sick to death of these Custodians! But with an effort, I pushed my anger aside and turned to Nanako. "Are you okay?" I asked as I reached out to her. She was shaking like a leaf, though from anger, not fear.

  "I’ve never, ever felt so humiliated, and look what they did to you! They had no reason to hit you. They’re nothing but juvenile bullies!" she spat.

  "I know, and I so hope they get what's coming to them one day," I said.

  Nanako suddenly frowned and laid a gentle hand on my stomach. "Does it hurt much?"

  "Nah, I just got winded," I said, playing it down, though I reckoned there'd be quite a bruise visible soon.

  "How much is it for?" she asked, pointing at the ticket.

  "Two hundred."

  "What? Can we lodge a protest?" she asked as she glanced at the shoppers and stallholders who were hesitantly going back to what they were doing before the Custodians came.

  "No, the Custodians’ word is law. We'll have to pay it," I said. Coupled with the money we spent today, this fine meant we had only three hundred bucks left.

  "That's unbelievable! What kind of legal system do you have here?"

  "One designed to keep the population under the thumb. But don't worry about the money. I'll go back to work tomorrow. "

  "But you haven't recovered from your wounds yet."

  I looked into her caring face and I was moved by her beautiful, compassionate nature. She should be thinking about herself now, not me. "Don't worry; the boss'll give me light duties until I've got my strength back. Now, shall we go home?"

  "No – not until I've finished shopping. I'm not gonna to let them win."

  While I picked up the bags with hands that wouldn't stop shaking, Nanako bought the rest of the meat, veggies, fruit and drinks we needed. Some of the shopkeepers, in sympathy of what we just went through, gave us what we tried to buy.

  When we got home, Nanako stripped off her oversized checked shirt, black riding shorts, and over-knee socks, and then flung them from her as though they were contaminated. "I'm gonna take a shower – I feel so unclean!"

  "I'll put the stuff away," I said, not knowing what else to do.

  She got in the shower, and stayed there a long, long time. Meanwhile, I unpacked and put away the shopping and then hung up the new curtains, which were a plain soft yellow. And you know, they brightened the flat's atmosphere beautifully, just as we expected. But while I worked, I tried and failed to get the image of the Custodian frisking Nanako out of my mind, and the more I thought of it, the angrier I got. All sorts of scenarios fled through my mind of what I could have done to prevent her getting frisked, or of what I’d do if I ever met that private again.

  And while I struggled with my anger, I wa
s hit by a sense of déjà vu as another temporal lobe seizure tore through me. The memory was of me with my Ranger squad, looking at a teenage girl sprawled upon a dusty road. She was holding a rifle in one hand, but had been shot several times. A large pool of blood expanded slowly on the road beneath her.

  As soon as the memory faded, I remained standing and rode out the rest of the seizure while desperately trying to work out what the memory could mean. Who was the girl? Who had shot her, and why? She looked so innocent, so harmless. An insidious thought occurred to me. What if we had shot her? Worse still, what if I had shot her? Threads of fear spiralled out from my gut, up the back of my neck and into my head. What did the Rangers and I get up to?

  I sank to my knees and sighed. The wonderful joy that Nanako and I had experienced while shopping for things for our home was gone.

  Nanako put on the black dress after she’d showered. "What do you think? Does it suit me?" she asked as she twirled in a circle

  "You look stunning." The dress accentuated her figure and beautifully complimented her black hair and eyeliner. Sadly, though, she wasn’t smiling; the encounter with the Custodians had tarnished her mood far more than mine.

  "Do you want me to cancel the dinner tonight?" I asked.

  "No, I'm not gonna let those creeps ruin my day," she said, and then added with a forced smile. "Besides, I can't be bothered cooking tonight."

  * * *

  Dinner at my folk’s place turned out to be much simpler fare than when the Kings had come for dinner. Entrée was tomato soup, and main course was a plate of roast vegetables – potato, pumpkin, and carrot, which was accompanied by a side dish with boiled spinach, lentils and peas.

  My mother and my younger sister were overjoyed to see us, and both fussed over me when they saw I’d been wounded yet again. My older sister responded to our greeting impassively, but that was an improvement over the animosity she normally reserved for me.

  And my father seemed either uncomfortable or displeased, or a mixture of both. As for us, we simply ignored him. I reflected that if no one spoke during dinner, we’d get home way before the nine o’clock curfew took effect.