There Where the Power Lies (Monster of the Apocalypse Saga Book 2)

by C. Martens

  Tying Joe to the rear bumper, he edged out of town at a pace that would not tax the pony. The little guy appreciated being turned out with the other horses.

  At thirteen hands, Joe was small and the perfect size for a pack animal. One of the other horses was a fifteen hand, blue dun gelding. He was in his early prime and had been sent to school. The saddle fit the back of the dun, and Emmett found him to be a comfortable replacement for Joe.

  The little pinto seemed jealous after Emmett rode the dun. He sulked and refused to come to his human to be rubbed behind the ears.

  By the time the last epoxied boot was removed from the pinto’s hoof, a month after the move, he was over his snit. They were ready to move on.

  Emmett had seen no more dogs. More telling, he had seen no human beings, and he was getting used to it.

  §

  The afternoon before the planned departure, Emmett had an experience that drove a dagger through his heart and intensified his desire to leave.

  He was sitting on the porch of the small guest house, just on the edge of the once manicured lawns. The woods were bordered by an area of vegetation that descended in height as it approached the comfortable, little house.

  As he sipped a cup of tea, his feet up on the railing and his chair back on two legs, gently rocking, he heard a noise. Someone was humming! They were coming toward him through the woods!

  Dropping his chair legs down quietly, he waited for them to emerge.

  But they did not. The humming continued, and he heard rustling in the bushes. Eventually the sounds were close enough that Emmett realized there could be no person. There was movement in the foliage as something was approaching, but the vegetation was too low to hide a human.

  Mystified, Emmett listened to the humming rise in an ascending scale and then descend again in the same notes. What was going on?

  The movement in the grass, accompanied by the melody, suggested something that Emmett did not want to admit. He wondered if he had lost his mind. In his loneliness, had his cheese slipped off his cracker? Was his elevator missing a floor?

  Intense curiosity drove him to his feet, and he leaned as far out as he could from the porch, supported by the railing. The movement in the grass was almost close enough to see what was making it. The hum continued, unabated and unhurried. A happy sound.

  Finally, a small porcupine appeared, wending its way between the stalks in the unkempt grass. The little beast hummed one more time, peered up at Emmett with bleary eyes as it became aware of him and did a leisurely about face. Then it ambled away into the woods, silent now.

  The lonely young man was stunned. Emmett had no idea that porcupines hummed, and he broke down and wept with no idea of why. Eventually it dawned on him. His adrenaline had been pumping in his anticipation of another human being, and between that and the strange conclusion, the experience had been more than he could handle. Even though he was relieved that there was no gnome or fairy, which would have enforced his fear and suspicions of mental problems, the event spoke to him about his need for people.

  Joe and the dun were not enough.

  §

  The rains came as autumn progressed, and Emmett learned to enjoy them. Good raingear helped. The damp earth was easy on the horses’ hooves, and as long as they picked their route carefully, there was decent footing.

  Deciding that the highway along the coast was likely to be lightly traveled by survivors, Emmett decided to move inland. They would head north along the coast with the intent of cutting east at Reedsport to the superhighway. That would take them through more, well, hopefully more, populated areas. The young rider still had the rough idea to make his way to Whidbey Island, outside Seattle, just as Andy had intended. This new route would take them through Eugene, Salem, and Portland. They would stay off the road shoulder as much as possible, instead staying inside any pastures and cutting fence or opening gates as they went.

  The trio worked well together right away. The larger horse was a slight learning curve for Emmett as he felt uncomfortable being further off the ground, but after the first couple of days he hardly noticed the difference. The pinto wore the light pack saddle easily, and the burdens he carried were light. Emmett considered eliminating the lead rope completely, as the little horse seemed so willing to follow. Even though Emmett was beginning to understand equine psychology and the idea of a herd mentality, he valued the pony enough that he chose not to take a chance.

  As they left the estate, the gate was left open for the horses being left behind. They milled about and crowded through the gate, stopping a short distance away. Then as they cropped fresh grass they watched the rider and his charges depart. The loose horses realized that their friends were leaving, and they followed but only for short of a mile. The call of their old territory urged them to rethink, and they stopped and watched the trio pass out of sight.

  Because the rain softened the ground, noise was reduced, and the three were able to approach animals and situations that they would have otherwise missed. Emmett became an aficionado of wildlife and used every opportunity to stop and watch anything he saw. The porcupine had influenced his appreciation of the outdoors and sparked his curiosity of all things wild.

  After devouring the books on animal care, Emmett visited the library and downloaded several new books into a loaner pad. He felt uneasy and laughed when he read the notice outlining the return policy. The books he had chosen were geared toward the outdoors and in particular toward the northwest. Now, as he read the books whenever they stopped, he compared the knowledge to what he was seeing. He was surprised to see things not included, much like the porcupine encounter. The books were written so antiseptically.

  One day they were passing a large barn after cutting through fence a ways back. A big owl launched itself from inside and flew over an adjoining pond and away to some trees growing along a line of fence at some distance. Emmett reined the dun in and sat watching as several small, quick birds dropped out of trees close to the barn and pursued the owl. He was surprised to realize that the little gang members were not just harassing the larger bird but were actually landing on the owl’s back and riding it. No books mentioned that.

  Hawks became a passion, and Emmett watched every time he saw one. Perhaps the birds did not see a rider as a threat, or they were just getting unused to humans and were losing their caution, but there were several opportunities to watch them stoop off of a high perch and latch onto small birds. Once, an unusually small hawk took a grasshopper in flight close to the ground. After the birds subdued their prey, Emmett would watch them eat until there was little left. He learned that the only things they left of birds were the feathers and the beak.

  With all the exercise, the young rider worried about his ponies. Not Joe so much, because he was carrying hardly any weight, but the dun might need to be rested. He decided to keep his eyes peeled for another horse to add to his string. Over several days he cut fence to release several, and they always came to investigate the person with the pliers, but he had yet to see anything he wanted. He was learning to discriminate, and there was no hurry.

  Not long after the intersection at Highway 5, there was a car that passed them. Emmett had dismounted to relieve himself and had no warning, so he missed the chance to wave it down.

  They were close to the small, old station wagon as it passed, and he got a good look at the driver. She was an older woman who looked haggard as she slouched close to the wheel, nose almost touching it. What bothered him was what he thought he saw in the back seat. The rear windows were darkened, so he could not be sure, but it looked like someone had a gun to the driver’s head and was watching him as they drove past. He could not be sure, but that was what it looked like. The horses were visible, saddled, and Emmett considered that anyone in the car would likely have seen them. If the driver had not stopped because of a fear for her life and not fear of the strange horseman at the side of the road, then there was something else going on.

  The relief the young
man felt at seeing another person was tempered by the realization that there were no longer any laws being enforced. Once again there was a paradigm shift in his awareness.

  There was nothing he could do. There were no authorities to inform. He was on horseback, and there was no way that he could follow the woman and help her. By the time he found a vehicle fast enough to catch up, the car could be anywhere. He considered the possibilities but found nothing worth pursuing. Guilty, he resigned himself to future guilt as well. He was sure there were going to be more impossible situations as he progressed forward. They were inevitable.

  Emmett cut a lot of fences as they moved along the highway. Over the years the whole length had been developed, either as subdivisions or ranchettes, and the size of what developers defined as ranchettes had shrunk. No longer twenty acres, they had decreased to ten, then five, and then anything approaching an acre.

  Sad sights were common. The small acreages held more animals than open country. With no one to feed the animals, the tiny pastures were insufficient to support them. Horses were especially hard hit as they destroyed any pasture on an acre. Where a cow or several sheep could live on a well maintained and watered acre of ground, a horse would drive the grass into oblivion with sharp hooves.

  Emmett started to hate horse owners. Instead of confining the animals to a small enclosure and growing grass for the horse to be turned out on for limited times, they would release the animal over the entire area in a misguided act of kindness. In giving them a larger space “to run” they had consigned their pet to death. He found numbers that had starved where a cow here or there was still alive.

  There were no sheep. What evidence Emmett found was carcasses that had been torn apart. Dogs, he was sure.

  He felt terrible when he found a dead horse on dirt, right next to a green pasture of the same size full of sheep bones and wooly bits of hide.

  There was no way Emmett could keep up. Any animals that he released spilled out, and there were more just away from the freeway. He hardened his heart and began to ride the median.

  He was camping one evening in another barn full of hay when Emmett saw his second vehicle. Well, actually two more. There were two men on lectricycles that passed, going south in the same direction as the car he had seen days ago.

  Again, not being in a position to wave them down, he missed the chance, but as they went by he was relieved. The two men looked rough. They might have been ministers or accountants for all Emmett knew, but he evaluated them by their appearance and embraced a long politically unpopular practice…profiling. He was almost glad they had not seen him.

  Encouraged by having finally seen people, Emmett expected to eventually find someone he could speak to. But with the strange circumstances of both sightings, he understood he would have to be wary.

  That evening he rode Joe bareback into the neighborhoods and into an upper class area. The larger ranchettes were away from the highway, and where there is money for acreage and big houses, there is also money for horseflesh.

  Large paddocks of green grass bordered by white fencing lined a drive. Imagining how expensive a concrete entry of this length must have cost, the pinto rider urged his pony up toward the house. The place dripped wealth. Not content to have mere acreage, the owners had a view as well.

  At the top of the drive, the material underfoot changed to brick, and the surface opened to a large parking area in front of the house.

  Noticing security cameras festooning the under eaves of every building, he dismounted the pinto and decided to knock. Not expecting an answer, he was not disappointed.

  A garage with eight roll up doors beckoned him. Finding it locked, he used the wrecking bar he carried. He was getting used to popping doors open, and this one was as easy as any of the others.

  Emmett did not need to turn on any lights. They came on automatically, and he noticed cameras in the corners tracking him as well.

  Chrome and glistening paint assailed his eyes. Two very expensive European cars, probably daily drivers, were parked next to the door. Next, a large truck equipped for rough country, but obviously never intended for that kind of use, filled a stall. Then a really nice boat and a light trailer holding four small, personal watercraft. The last three stalls held antique vehicles. The first was a vintage, gasoline powered V-12 Ferrari. The car was one of the last models produced before the sports cars became all-electric.

  Next, an old, four-door Chevy, probably fifties, thought Emmett. The last stall held a big truck, a Diamond T from the emblem, and a massive beast it was. Emmett had no way to know that it was the smallest the company had ever built, a model 200, which correlated with a full size, one ton pick-up. Used to the light electric vehicles in use recently, Emmett thought the “T” was huge. The big, high-sided flatbed with the rounded back edges contributed to his impression.

  The stables to the rear of the house were where the quickly learning horseman’s interest lay. As he got close he felt some trepidation. The now familiar smell prepared him for what he found. In twenty stalls he found six carcasses. They had been high powered animals at one time.

  Behind the barn he had better luck. There were two horses in yards big enough to have grass. Though the grass was getting thin, the horses were in good condition.

  Emmett fell in love.

  A grey mare, dappled brightly and well proportioned, came up to nuzzle his hand immediately. She was gorgeous. She made the pinto and even the dun look like farm animals.

  The young rider turned her down with a heavy heart and would often wonder about his decision later in retrospect. But he had a good reason. Mares are great animals, but they have a cycle just as many females do, and problems can develop if there are any males around. Even geldings get antsy, and in reading his books Emmett had learned a lesson many people with more emotional attachments would ignore. Emmett turned the mare out after he pulled her shoes.

  The other horse was a gelding, slightly larger than the dun, and a dark bay. Well coupled and attractive in every way except one, he moved like an athlete. The one fault, at least to people that enjoyed perfection, was his baldy head. His face was completely white, side to side and top to bottom. The man that had owned him and used him as his favorite had saved him from being sold as flawed. His faith in the horse had proven out. Professional training and maturity had made the horse a better ride than any the man had owned. Many people that began an outing with the owner and thought the gelding ugly had by the end of the ride made an offer to buy the horse.

  Emmett rode the horse bareback in the pasture before he made a decision. The stark white face took some getting used to, but the gelding moved so easily. Emmett was impressed. The stable would yield a halter and a long lunge line.

  The pinto, neck arched, touched noses with the new horse, and the baldy bay found a home on Emmett’s string.

  Chapter 21

  The earth healed. In Asia, the coal that was used in both industry and homes ceased being consumed immediately. Although the effects would take some time, the few remaining krill would be saved as a result. That was the first massive benefit from removing the human weight from the neck of Mother Nature.

  Development stopped. In fact, it not only stopped, but reversed. The natural absorption of man-made structures began and accelerated as maintenance ended and water found a way into cracks, with roots following the moisture.

  Natural events, long under the control of humans, reverted to natural cycles. Automation delayed the inevitable, but many of mankind’s finest designs need maintenance. Irrigation stopped and gates remained open. Flood and drought returned. Fires raged, and in the long term the forest would be healthier for it.

  The scourge that would last the longest in North America, in terms of continued abuse of the natural environment, was domestic animals. They were not designed for the natural world. Some would succeed, and some would fail.

  One of the oddities of animal populations is how wild can be identified from domestic. Wild animals are uni
form. All natural colors and patterns are within a small, distinct range. They are also all the same size within their types. Truly wild, undomesticated horses, the Asian tarpan, are all similarly colored with a stripe running down their backs and bristly, dark manes that stand up. All zebras are black and white and have similar patterns within a species. Wild cats are similar within species. One need not look any further than the coat to determine whether a cat is a tiger, lion, leopard, or cheetah.

  But domestic animals are different. What color is a horse? What size is a dog? Even birds and fish vary greatly in human-modeled breeds.

  Animals that have been the companions of people, changed greatly in size and color, are different psychologically as well. As the wolf is removed, the dog becomes more predictable. Docility in livestock is a breeding selection criterion.

  There are exceptions, but as they say, those prove the rule. Domesticated animals were just not intended to be left to their own devices. Domestication is unnatural.

  Many exotic birds had already established a foothold in southern states. Parrots and parakeets acted much like native species and while competitive with them, coexisted well for the most part. Especially now that the starlings were removed, birds flourished right away. The bright exotic colorations would fade over time until parakeets were uniformly green again. The native birds of Hawaii were less fortunate. The cats would die out, but the rats and snakes that were imported would continue to end native birds.

  In areas where unnatural fish had been released, most thrived at the expense of natives. Most were relatives of the carp. When the electric currents in the upper waters leading to the Great Lakes failed, the Asian carp had invaded and established a breeding population. People had learned to enjoy carp at the expense of more palatable fish. Much the same thing happened on a small scale with goldfish and koi that escaped small ponds. The problem would be ongoing for thousands of years until all water environments became genetically naturalized once more.