Paradise

by Michael R. Watson

  * * *

  Most of those who had been successful at surviving in the wasteland were roaming scavengers, living off what they could scrounge or steal. Some, finding it difficult to survive on their own, had joined with others like themselves to form small groups for survival’s sake. There was strength in numbers. Ryder, after leaving the Guard, had been taken in by one of these groups. In a short time his leadership ability became obvious, convincing many of the small groups to join forces to form an organized group.

  After several raids on Guard transports, they earned the name Raiders, so named by the governor. In time, under Ryder’s leadership, the members of the Raiders grew into a brotherhood of sorts, the closest thing to family some would ever know again. Ryder discovered some were former guards like him, and some, he guessed, had questionable backgrounds since they refused to talk about their former lives, preferring to leave it all behind. Everyone had a story, but nobody asked and nobody cared.

  Some of the quake survivors chose to remain on their own. These were the die-hard survivalists and scavengers who would never trust anyone else, preferring to die rather than depend on someone else.

  Preppers belonged to that group, but were different and few in numbers. In general, these individuals had made preparations before the earthquake devastation, readying themselves for any large scale survival event, whether natural or economic. Some fortified their housing so their location could be defendable against attacks from those who were unprepared and who would eventually become aggressive out of desperation. Inside the walls, food had been stored or food plots made for long term survival, a water source established, and weapons and ammunition readied.

  One thing the scavengers, survivalists, and preppers had in common was that if someone came too close and threatened their domain, they would do whatever it took to defend it. The aggressors would get what they deserved. Ryder and his men quickly learned where not to go, honoring these people’s rights to be left alone, giving them a wide berth.

  The Raiders never took from other survivors, only from the Guard collection patrols who had scavenged items from the abandoned remains of homesteads and small towns. They didn’t suffer from any guilt, knowing the residents of Tent City would never see these goods anyway. Ryder knew from his time with the Guard that the items stored in the lower level of the compound were only used for the governor, his staff, and his privileged friends.

  Ryder, determined to help his new friends survive, shared a few of the skills he’d learned from his dad, converting some of the Raiders into farmers by creating food plots. The citizens in the sector, whether from inside the compound or from Tent City, all were equally unaware of how the Raiders were surviving, believing it was strictly from stealing from others. They feared them the same as any other roaming criminals, a result of the governor’s warnings and propaganda. It was another way of keeping the citizens from wandering too far from Tent City and Sector 4, or sanctuary as the governor liked to call it.

  * * *

  Taylor informed Damon as they approached the area where the confrontation had taken place.

  “Lead us around,” instructed Damon, for the first time relinquishing the lead. “There could still be sentries posted here.”

  Taylor gladly jumped out in front. “The valley’s only one long day’s ride from here,” informed Taylor.

  “It’ll be sunset in a few hours,” observed Damon. “We should stop and talk about what we’re going to do when we get there. You can draw me a map.” Past the would-be battlefield they found a grove of mesquite that would give them cover while they planned ahead.

  After dismounting, Taylor began to collect dead limbs.

  “We won’t be needing those,” said Damon. “We’re not going to have a fire tonight either. It’s too dangerous here. Come sit over here and let’s talk.”

  Taylor threw down the armload of limbs, showing his annoyance. Damon could have said something five minutes sooner. He then kneeled next to Damon.

  “How many ways are there into the valley?” asked Damon.

  “Just one by horse or wagon. But you should be able to see the town and valley from anywhere along the rim.”

  “That’s good. I just want to see for myself that it’s everything you said it was and then get out of there without any contact with the locals. Tomorrow afternoon we’ll stop a little ways out and wait until the sun sets. It should make it easier to get close without being seen. Can you find your way in the dark?”

  “No problem. It was night when I left there the last time.”

  There wasn’t much else to say. Neither was interested in making small talk with the other. The sun set and they each rolled up in their bedrolls. Taylor wondered why they hadn’t eaten, but he remained silent, deciding he could last as long as Damon. Angry and with a growling stomach he eventually fell asleep. Early the next morning, before the sun came up, Damon woke Taylor with a kick. “Let’s go!”

  “What about breakfast?” asked Taylor. “I’m starving. We didn’t even have supper.”

  Damon dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of jerky, throwing it at him. “Satisfied?”

  It was amazing how good an old dried out piece of meat could be. Taylor couldn’t wait for this trip to be over and to get back to his normal life.

  They rode in silence most of the day with Damon once again in the lead. Taylor continually had to correct Damon’s direction when he ventured off course. As Damon had planned, they stopped to make camp that evening a safe distance from Paradise, according to Taylor. They waited for the sun to set, again in silence, time dragging on slowly. Neither man cared anything about the other. They were only together because they’d both been forced into it. After the sun had disappeared, Damon had them wait another hour past dusk before moving out.

  During the wait, they had only spotted one wagon with one lone man at the reins as he casually rolled by on the well-worn trail toward the valley. Cautiously, they came out from the trees and proceeded south. The near darkness helped to give them cover but also made it harder for them to see any dangers ahead. When they were about a quarter-mile from where Taylor believed the valley rim to be, Damon had them dismount and tie up their horses and proceed on foot.

  At fifty yards they could barely make out the rims edge, visible only as a gaping black hole in the ground. Crawling on their hands and knees to the edge, Damon finally saw it. From what he could see at first glance, it appeared to be surprisingly just as Taylor had said. Smiling, Damon silently took in as much as he could under the dim light of the partly cloudy moon-lit sky. The windows in the homes stood out, glowing from the lights inside. Trees were scattered throughout and he thought he saw the reflection of the moonlight off the still water of a small lake. This is what he had hoped to find, but wouldn’t have been surprised if Taylor had exaggerated. He was becoming convinced. The governor would be very pleased.

  “I need to see more,” said Damon. “I need to determine if it’s actually worth fighting for.”

  Taylor couldn’t believe it. “I already reported everything I saw. You can see I was telling the truth about the valley. Why would I lie about what’s in it?”

  “I want to see for myself and we’re already here. Stay here and wait for me if you want. It shouldn’t take long for me to check it out.”

  Taylor had no intention of arguing about staying put. He couldn’t risk being spotted and identified by anyone there anyway. Most of the community had met him and would know him on sight. The chances of escaping again would be slim to impossible. He was glad to let Damon take the risk. Even if Damon was spotted, Taylor wasn’t sure anyone would recognize him with his current appearance. The only possibility would be if citizens who had come from Sector 4 recognized him, and if so, he would have the same slim chance to get away as Taylor did.

  However, from their encounter with Gant, it had been proven even people who knew Damon well wouldn’t necessarily recognize him. With his current garb and unshaven stubble, the odds were in hi
s favor. If seen, he would most likely be only seen as a stranger, because in a community this small, everyone knew everyone else. A stranger would stick out. But then again, these people were so naïve, they’d probably greet him warmly as a new arrival.

  “It’ll be better for both of us if no one sees you at all,” commented Taylor, “so no one will ever know we were here.” In reality, he didn’t care if Damon was captured, he knew the way back to Sector 4.

  Then a terrible thought occurred to him, in returning to Sector 4 without Damon the valley would remain unverified. The governor could blame him for Damon’s absence, whether captured or dead. This had just taken a nasty twist he hadn’t previously considered. He was going to have to make sure they both returned.

  “I’m coming too,” declared Taylor.

  “No. You stay here. We can’t risk someone recognizing you.”

  “The same goes for you. If anything happens to you, the governor’s going to blame me.”

  “So, you want to save your own hide. Very touching.”

  “You got it.”

  Damon thought a moment and then agreed, “You’re probably right. You know the lay of the land better than I do anyway.” He paused. “But if you do anything to bring attention to us, I’ll shoot you myself. Understand?”

  “Yeah, I understand perfectly.”

  Damon had Taylor go back to the horses and fetch a rope. He tied one end to a sturdy mesquite tree and threw the rest of the coil over the edge into the darkness below.

  Damon went first, rappelling to the valley floor, approximately thirty feet below. Taylor came next. Half-way down, while attempting to get a good foothold, several large fragments of sandstone broke free, noisily falling to the valley floor. “Look out!” Taylor whispered loudly.

  Damon jumped to the side just before the fragments hit the ground and rolled away. Taylor reached the bottom without another incident.

  “You almost got me!” said Damon angrily.

  Taylor began to reply, but decided against it.

  “Now, watch what you’re doing,” said Damon. “Someone may have heard the noise.” They stood motionless a few moments, listening for any sound of someone coming.

  “It was just rocks falling. Nothing suspicious,” whispered Taylor.

  “Take me on a tour around the perimeter. Remember, we don’t want to be seen by anyone,” said Damon. “In and out as quick as possible.”

  Taylor nodded. “Follow me.”

  Staying behind cover whenever possible and moving within the shadows, Taylor led him past the downtown area, skirting the residential, livestock and farming areas. They had only seen a couple of men, one closing up the blacksmith shop and one sitting and rocking on his front porch. Taylor recognized Samuel, but didn’t bother to point him out to Damon.

  Returning to where they had left the rope, they had to cross the one road leading into town. A sentry sat under a nearby tree. They saw no evidence of a weapon.

  “He’s not even armed,” whispered Damon.

  “They don’t believe in it,” replied Taylor. “If he sees something suspicious, he’s supposed to run to the church and ring the bell.”

  “You were right about one thing. If we could get past the Raiders, we could take this place easily.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying,” said Taylor, exasperated.

  * * *

  Gant and his men returned to Sector 4. Most were relieved when the encounter with the Raiders had not escalated. Only a couple had voiced their disappointment. Gant hadn’t been surprised. These men were always ready to fight just for the sake of fighting, no matter what the reason. In the beginning, it had been easy to fill positions in the Guard with the requirements set extremely low. A warm body who could follow orders was essentially all it took. Volunteers had been plentiful since recruitment included a place to live within the prison walls for themselves and their families along with regular meals, something not always possible on the outside. As the ranks were filled, the standards became stiffer, with many turned away.

  Many of the families had come to the ‘safe haven’ in response to circulars delivered to their dying communities, claiming to provide a place of safety with plenty of food and water. In the beginning, it was an enticement most couldn’t ignore. At the time, the only other option had been to make due on your own and pray you could survive. Contrary to the governor’s promise food and water became harder to come by every day. Conditions had quickly deteriorated at Tent City as the truth became evident. Their safe haven had turned into a work camp with no way of escape. Trapped, they were forced to do whatever they were told or suffer the consequences. Family welfare was a powerful means of leverage.

  Gant was summoned to Governor Davis’ office as soon as he had passed through the gates and before he had time to dismount. He sighed heavily. On the long ride back he had continued to think about Samuel’s invitation to come to the valley with his family. He had told Samuel it was too late. He had made his choice. But, was there still time to make a change? Didn’t his family deserve a better life? When he’d taken this position, there hadn’t been any options. Now, there was a choice. But, perhaps the other people at the valley wouldn’t welcome him as openly as Samuel would. His options ran through his mind once again as he walked to the governor’s office.

  He also thought about what he would say to the governor. Yes, there had been a chance they could have defeated the Raiders and advanced to the valley, but his heart hadn’t been in it and knowing his men, neither was theirs. These men weren’t soldiers. Besides, his long-time friend, Samuel, had been there and he couldn’t let anything happen to him. Gant had never seen his friend’s valley, but he knew it existed and from what he had heard it was a beautiful place, a paradise in an otherwise damaged and hostile world. He had already made up his mind, he wouldn’t be a willing aid in the governor’s plan, knowing it would destroy such a place.

  Gant knocked on the open door, waiting for permission to enter. Governor Davis, sitting at his desk, looked up and smiled.

  “Ah, Master Gant, please come in and have a seat,” said Davis, motioning him to the chair facing his desk.

  Gant straightened his uniform and removed his cap as he sat down, expecting a reprimand for his failed mission.

  Davis looked at him for a few moments before speaking, collecting his thoughts, and then realized he was making Gant uncomfortable. He needed to be tactful. Gant had been with him since Sector 4’s inception and had been an integral part of his success. Even though he was the governor and what he said was final, he didn’t want to say anything that Gant might take exception to. Granted, the mission had been a failure, but that could only have happened if the situation had been out of Gant’s control. A direct accusation of failure wouldn’t do. Gant was a great leader and all of his men liked and respected him. He was the key to his continued success.

  “Master Gant, I understand you encountered resistance in the search for the valley.”

  “Yes, sir.” Gant kept it short, feeling he didn’t need to explain, knowing Taylor had already told his side of the story.

  “You know, we need that valley. Not just for me, but for all of us. According to Taylor, the valley has all the resources we need to make things better for our life here. Wouldn’t you like for your family to receive better and more plentiful rations? And at the same time surely you can see how it would go a long way in improving morale around here. We have to have it.”

  “Then you’re sending us back?” Gant asked.

  “As soon as Taylor’s story has been verified. I sent Damon with Taylor to be my eyes to check it out.”

  “We met them on the trail.”

  “If Damon comes back with a positive report, you will be sent to claim the valley for us.”

  “Respectfully, Governor, I’m afraid the price may be too high. There were significantly more Raiders than we had men. And those were just the ones we saw.”

  “That may be, Master Gant, but they are scavengers,
society rejects. Your men have been trained by you. I’m confident you’ve taught them well and they’ll be more than ready to meet any challenge.”

  “You honor me, sir, but we could lose many of your men,” pleaded Gant.

  Davis didn’t like having his orders questioned and he was losing his patience. But he took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Be prepared to go when I give the word. Now, go and get ready. And no excuses this time. Understand? And don’t worry about the men. We can always find replacements.”

  “Yes, Governor.”

  * * *

  Gant entered his family’s living quarters within the prison walls. His wife, Donna, could tell immediately something was wrong. She had already received word through the grapevine that the men were back and had been waiting patiently to welcome him home. Their twin sons, fifteen years old, too young for the Guard but too old for school, were somewhere inside the walls on a maintenance and stocking detail. Those living inside the walls didn’t work in the fields with the Tent City people. Early on, jealousy had become an issue between the two groups, the haves and the have not’s. So, the governor had segregated the two groups to eliminate future problems and the exchange of information.

  “What’s wrong, Daniel?” she asked with concern.

  “Have you ever thought about leaving this place?”

  * * *

  Chapter 16