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

by C. Martens

  Caged animals, mostly rodents, died. Rabbits, guinea pigs, and hamsters, along with snakes and lizards and frogs, all went on “the long walk.” Ferrets might have survived, but most communities had come to their senses and established that they were potentially invasive. The few that escaped their cages were not enough to create a viable breeding population, and predation handled the problem. Rats were the only ones that escaped in any numbers, and they melded into the natural population.

  Neither the birds nor the fish had much impact in the initial year following the decline in human population. The caged animals had so little impact that it could not be said they had any.

  The largest result of loss of human control was in the predatory powers of their unfed pets. Dogs packed up and slaughtered anything they could find once they figured out how to eat something not out of a bag or can. “Muffy, the wonder dog” and “Spike, my best friend,” the animals that slept in bed with their masters, became lethal. The upside was that they predated themselves, and their numbers declined dramatically and quickly. In the end the few that survived would revert genetically over a relatively short time and become indistinguishable from wolves.

  The warm, furry bundle that occupied a lap, knowing she was the queen of the castle, was another story. Natural predators, cats thrived in communities where people would feed any that were allowed outside. Many went feral, even before humans disappeared, and where they did there were fewer songbirds and no quail. The urban bird population took a short hit when the kibble disappeared from the back porch. The sudden spike in bird deaths was short lived, though. Cats were not really intended to be wild, and they were not as successful as people imagined they would be. Dogs took most of them.

  That left livestock. Animals bred for a specific use are genetically programmed to implode.

  Sheep disappeared in the blink of an eye. Without anyone to protect them, all the teeth in the natural world focused on them. Goats did little better unless they had places to climb, and a few did. Some escaped into areas of rocky country, but the coyotes got them in the end.

  Llamas were large enough and vicious enough to repel the first onslaughts. The dogs ganged up on the llamas as the sheep disappeared and learned to separate individuals. A few llamas in the northern Rockies went feral and made an attempt at greater numbers. They managed to stay ahead and populate in higher elevations even as the grizzlies discovered them.

  In the southern states, hogs had long gone feral and were creating enough of a problem that there had been an open season on them. Their declining numbers reversed once again until a natural balance was reached. They contributed to the decline in dog numbers.

  Cattle? They had been bred into oblivion for the most part. Hornless and docile to the point of being defenseless, they wintered poorly without feed and died in great numbers. They did not know how to find grass just inches below the snow. The only places they survived in numbers were in southern climes and along the coasts, and they reverted back to their ancestral roots fairly quickly. Horns and spotted coats became the norm instead of the exception.

  The worst thing possible for nature, long term, were the horses. They were built to survive, and romance aside, that was not a good thing.

  When horses were domesticated, they were of use. The many uses they had were varied and often brutal. Numbers were kept in check by the attrition rate, and horses were prized as valuable because they were in demand. Escapees were hunted and gathered because of their value.

  Horses continued to decline in popularity as their usefulness tanked. Well-meaning people, unable or unwilling to feed and care for them, released many into the wild. The very conditions that people saw as abuse or neglect in pastures was tolerated in a setting they deemed “natural.”

  Without population control through predation or responsible ownership, horses eat themselves into starvation. A horse, on the same size piece of ground where a cow, sheep, elk, or buffalo can fatten up and reproduce, will rip out the grass with its teeth and stomp what is left into the center of the earth. Then they starve. They live for a quarter of a century and will have offspring every year. A mare, soon to die of old age, will produce a foal in her last year. The studs that never fight hard enough to breed still pound the ground and eat, and the ones that are driven from their harems live to eat and pound dirt as well.

  Many wild ponies’ lives end in drawn out misery. Time is not good to legs, hooves, and teeth, and as horses age they tend to have problems. Animals may last for years with crippling, painful injuries. There are other issues as well, issues not seen in wild animals.

  The only way to prevent horses from destroying themselves is to limit breeding opportunities or allow predators to take the majority of foals. That would happen over time as natural balances came about, but stabilization would take more than a century. There would be more deaths from starvation than any other factor until predators caught up. There are no good deaths in the wild.

  In the meantime, forage for natural populations of deer and elk would suffer. Buffalo that would eventually reestablish would be slowed greatly. Anything that horses were in competition with for nutrients would be at a disadvantage. All kinds of grasses would be impacted.

  One of the most beautiful creatures on earth, and clearly intended to be domestic, became a blight on the natural world.

  §

  In turning out the dappled mare, Emmett had no idea what he was doing. She was beautiful, and these magnificent creatures he was riding were his friends.

  They moved north. Eugene was close, and the man was anxious to find people.

  Topping a low hill, the rider on the baldy bay recognized devastation when he saw it. Taking a minute to process the vista before him, he studied the sudden lack of habitation and realized that there must be some kind of intent involved.

  The odor Emmett had been scenting, lightly for some time, was smoke still rising from several locations. Even with the prevailing winds to the east, he could draw breath and get a noseful of the smell. Between the shafts of shifting grey, there were no standing buildings. They looked like they had been run through a wood chipper. Even the cement and asphalt had been tilled into the soil.

  Some distance away there was a horizon of structures burning. Against it, a massive dozer belched black smoke as it tore into a house. To the right, where the highway entered the city, a huge track hoe sat idle.

  Construction equipment had not followed the trends that other vehicles had. While most local delivery trucks and buses had gone to fuel cells and most personal vehicles had gone to variations on electricity to power them, the big boys stuck with diesel. Emmett sat his pony and watched for some time.

  There was no alternative. He would have to approach the big, muddy, yellow monster if he wanted to meet a human being. Although there were automated dozers, controlled remotely, Emmett could see this one’s operator as he manhandled the levers. Now was as good a time as any.

  The baldy carefully picked his way forward through the rubble. The ground was soft and yielding, but the chunks of concrete and the shards of shattered lumber sticking up made the footing treacherous. Emmett considered tying the horse to a piece of rebar that exited and then returned inside a block of concrete so he could continue alone. He wanted the option of retreating quickly, though, and even with the danger, the horse was his best chance to exit intact.

  He looked back at Joe and the dun, making sure they were secure where he had left them.

  The dozer positioned itself suddenly, as though it would crush them if it came forward. Just as quickly it revved, and the engine died.

  By the time Emmett was within speaking distance, the man had climbed down and off of the big machine. He approached to the end of the blade and stopped. So did Emmett.

  The dozer operator was huge. He was easily half a foot taller than Emmett and outweighed him three times. Somehow Emmett knew that his bulk would not keep him from being quick.

  Emmett dismounted, his holster already tied to hi
s thigh and the leather security thong free of the hammer.

  Probably in the range of mid-fifties, the man fastened a steely gaze on Emmett and his horse. He evaluated Emmett, and then his eyes moved to the horse and his equipment. He had no hesitation as he panned the holstered .45. This was a man of experience, and after his short but pointed inspection, he quickly raised his eyes to engage Emmett’s.

  In his turn, the younger man weighed the older. He noted the large belly but also the relaxed but ready stance. There was no weapon visible, but the man kept his right hand in a position where he could reach around behind easily. He was on the side of the blade where a right handed person would want to be in a gun battle. An unshaven, salt-and-pepper stubble graced his face, and his eyes sparkled now with an inner humor. Unless Emmett was reading him wrong, they were going to be okay.

  Stepping forward, the big guy offered an open palm the size of a small ham.

  Not even thinking of any necessity for maintaining a distance, Emmett reciprocated.

  “Brody, Brody Wilcox.” The man spoke in a confident soft voice. “Whut’s yer name?”

  Emmett introduced himself and felt dwarfed in the man’s grip, both for its size and its strength.

  “So…Where ya headed, Emmett?” It was a friendly inquiry, certainly not meant to be intrusive.

  Emmett did a quick assessment of the thoughts the question brought to him. Brody noticed but stayed silent.

  “You’re the first human being I’ve met,” said Emmett.

  The statement hung in the air. They both knew what he meant.

  Finally, the big man spoke, again softly. “It’s strange, Emmett. Really. How much do you know?” He squinted as he asked, “Where’d ya come from?”

  Why he was having such a difficult time speaking was baffling the young rider. In all of the scenarios he had imagined, none seemed to have him tongue tied. He was not sure what to say.

  Emmett looked around at the devastation. He felt lightheaded.

  “It’s okay, buddy, we can talk later.” Brody laid one of his hams on the younger man’s shoulder. His eyes were kind.

  The physical contact broke Emmett. He gulped air, and putting his head on his chest, he wept. It surprised him, and he was embarrassed. But the reaction of the huge stranger broke him even further. Brody gathered him in like a small child. They stood facing each other, arms wrapped around, and quaked together. It was so strange, weeping with another man, and a complete stranger, but it felt so good. Emmett had not realized how great his burden was.

  Time seemed to stop, and suddenly there was a mutual feeling of completion. They backed away from each other and, wiping their eyes, smiled.

  “You won’t tell anybody, will ya?” Brody asked in a low voice, meant to seem conspiratorial.

  Emmett laughed out loud, “Hell, no, are you kidding?”

  The ice was broken, and a bond had formed. Again, the younger man looked around.

  “What the hell are you doing?” He waved his arm to indicate the slashed and burned landscape.

  The older man looked around, too. “Well, it’s whut the robots wanted, and who am I to argue? Besides, it gives me sumthin ta do.”

  Emmett gave the man a look. He suddenly doubted some of the things he had been thinking.

  Brody leveled a look himself and was serious as he offered to explain. “I know, I know. It’s a long story. Let’s find some place to sit down. It’s not like I have a schedule, ya’know.” He laughed.

  The bay perked his ears and arched his neck as he looked back at the other two horses. Emmett explained that he had ponies hitched just out of sight.

  “I thought ya might,” the big guy offered. “Go get’um and I’ll meet’cha down there by the highway. I got a truck down there. And for Christ’s sake, don’t come through this mess. It’s too dangerous. Down by the road there’s a strip o’grass.”

  Mounting the bay, Emmett thanked him. He trusted the horse to pick his way back. By the time he found his way to the road and followed the grassy path to the truck, Brody had a cooler on the tailgate and two lawn chairs unfolded.

  Emmett hitched his horses on the fence posts close to the truck so they could munch grass, and he sat in the chair that was offered. He wondered how the light chairs could support the big man. The cooler was full of soda pop. Only one brand, and it was diet. Not something he would normally drink, but wanting to be polite, he took one.

  The conversation was good and mainly one-sided. Brody filled Emmett in on what he knew of the plagues, that they seemed to have dissipated, and even that there was a rumor that the contaminated bottled water had become safe.

  In his turn, the rider spoke of his isolation in the Cape Blanco cabin and his time in Coos Bay. He also mentioned the woman in the car and the two cyclists.

  “Yeah, you can’t be too careful, Emmett.” Brody got a hard look. “I was a cop up in Alaska… Valdez…and I’ve seen some bad things. But this’s a whole new ball game. People have gone off the deep end. I got a feelin’ that the worst’ll be comin’ out and for quite a while. Anybody without a real moral base will have their demons released.” He gave the younger man a look. “You need to stay armed, Emmett. It’s a whole new world.”

  They compared weapons, a sure sign of confidence in each other. The big man carried a big gun. He never mentioned the second one in an ankle holster. Emmett wondered. After all, the guy had said he was a cop.

  Even sipping the nasty diet drink, Emmett finally drained it. So far there had been no explanation of the robot comment. He inquired, trying to be casual about something he considered, well, maybe touchy.

  “Oh, yeah. I did mention that, dint I?” Brody smiled. The smile was hard to read, and Emmett shifted in his chair.

  There were robots at the zoo when Brody had gone there to shoot a tiger. He was an avid hunter. Surprising Emmett, he claimed to enjoy a blood lust and felt no compunction to save the animals. He intended to turn the tiger loose but only for the sport of tracking and killing it. If there were other interesting beasts, they would do as well and would be released in their turn.

  But there were robots at the zoo.

  They were unlike anything Brody had ever seen. Well, not exactly. They resembled house bots, enough that they might have passed as such. But they were certainly not domestics. They were emptying the cages and loading the animals. A few they turned loose, but the big cats, rhino, elephants, and the more threatened species they were taking to an unnamed location.

  They ignored him as they worked. He had a good chance to study them as they stepped around him.

  Finally, he grabbed one by the arm. It stopped immediately, and its optics focused on his face.

  “What can I do for you?” it asked, otherwise frozen.

  What followed was an eerie conversation. The bot responded as a human would for the most part. It had a mission and explained its purpose in terms that Brody understood well. It described what they were attempting and some of how they were doing it. One question it would not answer was where the animals were going. It offered that the information “is a security issue.”

  Finally, Brody ran out of questions. He released the robot’s arm, and it resumed its course as though nothing had happened.

  Before the big man had moved, as he stood there contemplating what was going on, the bot stopped and turned around.

  “You can do something for us,” it said.

  Stunned, Brody asked, “What?”

  The bot proceeded to explain that the earth needed to be returned to a better state for the animals to survive, and it offered some suggestions in how the man could help.

  Brody had thought about it for some time and then found a couple of big machines.

  Chapter 22

  Shadows were starting to get long, and Emmett began to wonder when he might be able to break away and find a place to spend the night.

  The big man in the overloaded chair suddenly understood that the younger man was getting unsure of what he should be d
oing next.

  “Oh, by the way, you can camp with us down th’road.”

  The statement shook Emmett. He had not considered that there might be more people.

  “You aren’t alone?”

  Brody nodded but said, “Nope.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Nine this morning.” Brody’s face clouded. There was something he was not saying.

  What he did say was that there was a brand new apartment building not far away. A couple of people that had found each other had decided to move into it because it might be clean of disease. Brody had seen one of the new inhabitants as he was foraging at the market across the street. Later, he called up to the woman on the balcony and asked if she was okay, did she need anything? The conversation led to him being invited to fill another space. As the woman was the first person he had seen in quite some time, he accepted. There was no reason to stay in the little home he had shared with his wife.

  As the apartment building was just off the highway near a ramp, they decided to troll for survivors. They visited a lumber yard and carried off two four-by-eight-foot pieces of sign board. Placing vehicles on the highway in each of the opposing lanes, they painted signs indicating that there were people living just off the road. There was no way the signs could be missed.

  After another couple of people showed up, Brody devised a security system, a balcony equipped with a tripod-mounted rifle so they could “introduce” themselves before offering sanctuary to strangers. Others showed up. Some wanted to stay and were invited. Others wanted to stay and were encouraged to keep moving. There were not many of either.

  Some of the people showing up were kids. They were gathered from the city rather than from the road as people searched for necessities. The woman that had invited Brody to stay began to act motherly.