Years After Series | Book 1 | Nine Years After

by Clary, LeRoy

  With that, he took the top two blankets from the stack and hobbled up the rubble and debris until he reached the top, then moved to the soft grass that had once surrounding the destroyed house. The three of us grabbed the rest of the blankets and followed him.

  Each of us folded one blanket lengthways as he had done and used it for the ground. The other was wrapped around us as we lay outside on a cool but beautiful night.

  Coot said, “Been a long while since I’ve slept outside. One of my favorite things, when you get down to it.”

  “I love to look at the stars,” I said while lying on my back, hands cupping the back of my head.

  “Me too,” he agreed pleasantly. “But you know a lot of them up there ain’t stars.”

  I sort of thought of the stars as my personal thing to like and now he was saying they were not all stars. Next, he’d tell me they were not mine. It was not something I could pass on asking about as I tried to cool my temper at his tampering with my private possessions. “The moon, yes. I know.”

  His finger pointed. “That red one there not too high above the horizon? The planet Mars. Named after the God of war.”

  It sounded like he either knew his stuff or was the best liar I’d ever met.

  He shifted positions and pointed again. “That one there? The silver one moving fast? See it?”

  “I do.” I hadn’t ever noticed some stars move.

  “A satellite. We can’t even make decent gunpowder that doesn’t throw sparks so far you catch the forest on fire these days, but ten years ago things were different. That thing up there tells me how different. My old neighbor, long since dead, worked on that in a small factory, not a day’s walk from here. He helped make a little part—I don’t remember what it was, but it went on that satellite and now it circles the whole world.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “These days we can’t do any of those things. Just imagine that. Only ten years ago, we placed a new star in the heavens. Now we’re fighting over crusts of day-old bread. Makes me sick to even think about it. Will somebody please change the subject?” He spat to one side.

  Another place for me to avoid when walking tomorrow.

  Bream said, “Do you ever fish in the water beside the navy place where you live?”

  “That I do. Let me tell you about a king salmon that I tied into a year or so ago. Damn near pulled me into . . .”

  The fantastic and unbelievable story went on and on. I quit listening to the tale of the fish that was so big . . . I cannot remember the rest of it. While I can’t be sure, I think there was a smile on my face for the entire story.

  The unbelievable part of it was the most enjoyable. The company of friends talking with one another. However, what soothed my mind most was the realization that ever since Deep Hole had sent us outside, there had been an overriding sense of impending doom depressing me. If it was not one thing, it was another. First, were the imagined mutants in the radiation-ravaged land. Then had come the army that was trying to destroy our home. And after that, the threat of evil Sir Wilson.

  For the first time, there seemed to be hope.

  The folly might be that I believed Coot. Or not. My future and the futures of many people seemed to rest on the ravings and stories of the old man who was now telling a huge lie to Bream, who was right beside me. No fish had ever been that big or strong.

  Forcing my mind to face the future, I realized it was not Coot I had to believe. It was Sir Wilson, a person I’d never met, seen, or heard of two weeks ago.

  If I convinced those people down in the Everett Sanctuary to come above ground and equip Sir Wilson’s army with the new weapons, the results rested on my shoulders, good or bad. What if Coot was lying about that too? He seemed to be a very good liar. Sir Wilson could take the weapons, slay all those who had lived in the sanctuary, and use the weapons to conquer the next city.

  So, I had two missions. Convince me that Sir Wilson was who Coot claimed him to be and convince those thousands in Everett Sanctuary to give up their weapons and live on the surface.

  Three, if you counted returning to Deep Hole and trying to convince them.

  I went to sleep with those things on my mind and woke with a plan—of sorts. I wanted to meet and spend time with Sir Wilson. Talking with Coot was one thing but talking with Sir Wilson another. Convince me he was a better man than most thought. Then, I’d go down into the Everett Sanctuary and spend time with them and see what happened. I believed they would go along with me.

  It might take them sending a few more to the surface to verify what I said, but they’d only known me for days so that was understandable. In the end, I thought they would join.

  Because I believed Sir Wilson didn’t mean they would, and I had to keep that in mind. It was one of those decisions you only get to make once.

  The wrong choice would have devastating results, I knew and understood that. But there was only one outcome that seemed to help everyone.

  I sat up in the predawn with my blanket wrapped around my shoulders and for the first time in my life I felt at peace with the world. Worried, but hopeful.

  I watched another fast-moving star and wondered how it had felt to know you created a piece of something that orbited the earth. That friend of Coot must have gone outside every night to look and feel proud.

  In the morning, food was again delivered. The guards were respectful and quick to depart. Coot told them we’d arrive at the navy base in the latter part of the morning.

  After they were gone, I said, “Why not now?”

  “We’re not done talking yet. Besides, Sir Wilson won’t be awake for hours.”

  “What else do we have to talk about?” I asked.

  “A few things you should know on the front end. Reasons why Sir Wilson may be abrupt or sharp with you.”

  Tess said, “Now you mention it?”

  “When better?” he challenged her. “Last night, so your sleep suffered? Or never and you walk into my brother the buzz-saw?” A wad of spit sailed off to his left again.

  Bream said, “Was that king salmon the biggest fish you ever catched?”

  Coot chuckled and shook his head. “Now there is a boy who knows how to stay on track. No Bream there was a shark so big it pulled our little boat so far, we had to use the radio to call in and be rescued, but let’s save that story for another time. Right now, we need to talk about politics.”

  Bream looked disappointed and stood. “I will go walk.”

  Coot put two fingers to his lips and whistled. A pair of guards rushed to him. He said, “Follow this young man at a discrete distance. Do not let him get into trouble. Clear?”

  “Clear,” they said in unison and took off to catch up with Bream.

  I noticed the difference in Coot’s mannerisms and speech when the soldiers were there. He spoke gruffly, using correct English. With us, he often used words like ain’t, and his overall demeanor was that of a poorly educated farmer or hunter. At other times, he fell into character as well-educated, almost to the point of being a teacher.

  Was he putting on a show for us? I felt to some extent he was, however, at other times it seemed his natural character and the teacher-persona was phony.

  We ate a quick meal of dried and salted fish, heavy bread that was almost brown, and cold water. He seemed completely at ease and willing to speak of anything.

  A question popped into my head. I asked while there was a break in the conversation, “Why now? I mean, I get the feeling that time is an element. Why?”

  “Very perceptive,” Coot said.

  I waited for him to spit again, as he seemed to do when he made a specific point as if it was punctuation. He didn’t this time. Tess was quiet but also watching him.

  He said, “That is part of what we need to discuss. But maybe we do need to go see my brother this morning, after all.”

  “Now you have me curious,” Tess said. “First you want us to wait. Now we need to go there right away. What gives?”

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nbsp; He let out a sigh before speaking. “It is very important you get along with him, and him with you. I’m just tryin’ to grease the skids.”

  “I said, “Maybe if you give us an idea of what you think the problems might be, we can prepare ourselves.”

  “And if you have no warning, your reactions will be there for him to read, and that may be better because he will understand. I’m conflicted but think we should get this over with. One way or another.”

  Rey said nothing.

  Tess cast an enquiring look in my direction, but I didn’t have any answers. I didn’t have any good guesses. I said, “Bream?”

  “The men assigned to him will look out for him and escort him to where we’ll meet with my brother.”

  Tess said, “How do we know we’ll have safe passage?”

  Coot paused, gave it some thought, then answered without any of his usual sly humor or disrespect, and said, “I will vow that whatever happens to you will happen to me. I will protect your lives with mine.”

  Tess said, “This brother of yours, will we like him? I mean, I listened to his questions before, but never answered and didn’t get a good idea of what he’s like.”

  Coot’s eyes twinkled. “Do you like men so tall they have to duck to enter a room? Men who can bend iron bars into rings when others can’t make an arc with them? What if I tell you he is not only the strongest man in these parts, but he is the fastest? His beard grows so fast you can almost see it getting longer.”

  “Not someone I want to make angry,” I said.

  “You’ll see,” Coot said.

  It was not what he said, but how. My poker senses were suddenly on point. He was lying. And enjoying every word.

  The problem was, I had no idea what he was lying about, only that he was.

  We gathered our things while I studied him and attempted to put together the clues I thought were there. He didn’t whistle for the army or call out to them, but as we trekked a few city blocks to the side of the hill that would take us to the navy base, nearly twenty soldiers surrounded us, all at a distance in a protective ring.

  We talked little as we walked down the middle of one of the larger streets, a handful of guards escorting us on either side. Abandoned and destroyed buildings stood as if watching with dead eyes. Many were blackened by fire. Here and there, people paused and watched quietly as we passed.

  None called out to us in a friendly manner, or made obscene gestures, or shot at us. They were simply curious.

  One encouraging item made itself known. They were not frightened by the soldiers. They were not overly friendly with them, but there seemed no animosity.

  There should have been if all the bad I’d heard about the mistreatment by Sir Wilson was true.

  In the ten blocks we walked, there were no rocks hurled from hidden locations, no shots taken, and no insults shouted. They knew the soldiers were dressed in the blue uniforms of Sir Wilson. It confused me and I spent most of the walk watching the city-dwellers carefully.

  Tess had moved to walk beside Coot. If he tried anything, she was right there, her weapon at her hand.

  I didn’t think she was going to need it.

  But I appreciated her doing it. If nothing else, it gave me more time to study our surroundings and it came to me that Tess had not only lived her life on the surface, but she had spent several days here while I was held captive in Everett Sanctuary. She knew much more about what was happening than me.

  We walked right through the gate of the military base, past the armed guards. Coot gave them a little two-finger salute to his forehead. They snapped to and returned full military ones. While many were recruits still learning to be soldiers and following the exasperating orders shouted by their corporals and sergeants, others were older and experienced. Their eyes paced us without a word passing between them. They knew something was about to happen—and were ready for it, whatever might come.

  Past the eating hall, we walked to the three buildings we’d decided were reserved for Sir Wilson and his highest lieutenants. We’d been right about that.

  At the metal door to the center one, Coot threw it open and held it for us to enter before him. I walked in thinking this would either work out or I’d die inside the place. Oddly, it didn’t bother me as much as it should have, and my step never faltered.

  Inside were wood floors, stained dark brown, heavy red drapes for the windows, and sparse furniture that appeared as if it had come from a museum displaying items from a hundred years earlier. It was massive, the upholstery new. Near the center of the large room was a circular firepit easily ten feet in diameter and a copper exhaust hood hanging from the ceiling. A fire burned, and the room was overly warm because of it.

  A soldier with lots of gold braid and hash marks on his sleeve entered came to attention and wordlessly waited, his eyes on Coot. He said to the soldier in a friendly manner, “Will you please have my evil brother join us?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Without comment about the word “evil,” the man spun on his heel and departed with each step a clack of sound on the hard, wooden floors. Coot pointed to the over-stuffed chairs and sofas situated around the fire pit, obviously the focal point of the room.

  Rey sat alone. Tess and I sat together while Coot went to a bar and poured himself a glass of brown liquid. He held up the bottle, silently asking if either of us wanted some. Before I could accept, Tess said, “Water for us, please.”

  Her hand was near her pistol at all times. As a story I’d read described a similar situation, we were in the belly of the beast. I repositioned my holster so I could draw the weapon faster. Coot’s sharp eyes caught the move. I didn’t explain, nor did I have to.

  He poured water from a pitcher and after handing heavy glasses cut with intricate floral designs to us, perched on the edge of the stone firepit wearing what I’d consider a secret smile.

  I couldn’t help but think of another time I’d had a meeting with leaders and was offered water to drink—laced with the drugs to put me to sleep. Instead of small-talk, we remained uncomfortably silent. Coot still wore the same mysterious smile.

  Eventually, after perhaps ten minutes, Sir Wilson entered. We’d heard the stories, knew what to expect, and we were prepared for him. Nearly seven feet tall, a face contorted with madness, and bulging arms wouldn’t be out of character. The kind of man who lifted the front end of cars for pleasure.

  The Sir Wilson that entered, at a guess, may have been five-and-a-half feet tall and shy of hundred pounds. He was in a chair built on two large wheels, and the fancily-dressed soldier pushed him along. The three of us were stunned. He looked nothing like what we’d imagined.

  His voice was high-pitched, almost a woman’s when he spoke. He had no facial hair. His spindly legs were covered with a wool blanket and he was pushed near the fire where he locked eyes with me.

  His first words were directed my way, “Why did you let someone do that to your skin?”

  “You should have seen what the sun did to it when I first came outside.”

  “You didn’t know about sunburn?”

  I decided the conversation was going nowhere but making me look ignorant. “We’re here to talk. Some sort of compromise, Coot said.”

  Sir Wilson turned to his brother. “Will you please pour me a scotch? And did you actually use the word, compromise in a sentence? If so, I’m impressed, brother.”

  Coot snorted as he lifted a bottle and poured an inch into a short glass. “Can’t say for sure I did or didn’t.”

  The small man in the wheelchair turned back us. “I don’t suppose Coot told you that he was a political science professor at a major college before the war. Wrote a book or two on the subject. No matter. We should talk among ourselves and perhaps save a lot of lives if we find a compromise.”

  Tess spoke up, her face tinged pink with sudden anger. “It seems like you take a lot from them as you take from the farmers and everyone else. You’re a selfish user. You want it all for yourself.
Compromise that.”

  Sir Wilson placed one hand on the left wheel of his chair and spun it slightly, so the chair turned, and he faced her. “Tess, I believe. In the spirit of speaking openly and honestly, let’s begin by addressing your comments.”

  “Go ahead,” she waved an arm and gave him a slight bow as if allowing royalty to pass by her.

  “Your second comment, first, if I may. There is nothing much to take from most people these days. They barely have enough to get by. I give them protection from raiders, food, mostly fish, and have set up community farms for growing potatoes, carrots, onions, beets, and corn. All that is distributed, primarily in the winter, to supplement what they get on their own, at no cost to them.”

  “Cap, my husband, and I were farmers and your men took our calves, piglets, and lambs, as well as some of the adult animals. Don’t try and tell me you didn’t. And you never paid us anything or paid anyone we knew.”

  He wore a faint smile. “We, meaning me, did do that. Let me ask you, why?”

  “To feed your precious army.”

  Sir Wilson turned to look at his brother and said, “See? I told you they would come right at me.”

  Coot took a swig of his drink and remained silent.

  For me, I reviewed the conversations about the use of the north as a large community farm, the protective barrier, and the geography of the area. Tess had not been there to hear any of that, and neither had Bream or Rey.

  That entire concept had been what had convinced me. Without it, I may not have shifted my beliefs, so I looked anxiously at the three of them and waited.

  Sir Wilson turned back to Tess. “Part of being a good farmer is anticipating future needs and balancing them against available resources. Right? Answer me this. How did your calves, piglet, and lambs feed my soldiers? One of them wouldn’t make a good meal for a squad. You ask why didn’t we only take adult animals that had enough meat to feed our people. We always left you a few of the young. Do you know why we took the young?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Those baby farm animals grow up and can feed many people. They were not slaughtered to feed my people, as you think. They were taken north of the city of Marysville where the land is flat, secured by the bay on one side, the mountains on the other, and grazing land clear up to Vancouver. I have hundreds of men and women up there raising and breeding them. In another year, there will be enough stock to feed all our people year around.”