by Jon Cronshaw
David chuckles. “You got poked with that good.”
Abel grins and shakes his head. “Right, kid.”
She looks up at the hole in the roof in the far right corner, light spilling in and illuminating the white ashes of the previous night’s fire. With cautious steps, she heads towards the seat, tilting her head as she examines the rowing boat standing on a two-wheeled steel trailer. “What's that?”
Abel follows her gaze and nods. “It's the boat. You use it to go on water.”
“Like a river?”
“Like a river,” Abel agrees. “I use it to go into the city.” He hands the rabbit to David. “You want to try making a pot? You remember what I showed you?”
David rubs his chin, the side of his mouth twitching. “Do I need to skin it?”
Abel folds his arms and offers him a grin. “You tell me.”
David looks into the rabbit's dead eyes then nods to himself. “We don't want fur in the pot. We'll keep that aside.”
Abel nods and pats David’s shoulder. “Good, kid.” He squeezes past the boat, elbows brushing along the left wall, and drags a toolbox from beneath a pile of junk in the corner. He walks past Sis and drops it next to the trolley. “Let’s see if we can fix this.”
Sis walks over and crouches next to her bike as Abel lifts the coil of snapped chain from her basket, puts the rifles and bullets to one side, and flips the bike upside-down, letting it rest on its saddle and handlebars.
“Any idea?”
Sis sighs. “Never broke before.”
Staring at the chain for several seconds, he looks at the large gear next to the pedals. He stretches the chain taut, letting it line up with the teeth and fall into place. “I think we can do this,” he says, wrapping the chain around the smaller gear on the back wheel. “Hold this.” He passes the two ends of chain to Sis and squints at the broken links. “I’m not sure,” he says, getting up.
Sis moves her fingers around the chain, manipulating the joins until something clicks. She turns the pedal and the back wheel spins. “It’s done,” she says. “It’s fixed.”
Abel smiles. “Good work, Sis. That’s great.” He rummages through his toolbox, retrieving a bottle of oil. “You should put a bit of this on the chain, stop it from rusting.”
“Will you?” she asks, looking unsure.
Turning the pedal slowly, Abel lets a small amount of oil drip from the bottle, watching as it coats the chain in glistening black. He lets the wheel slow to a gradual stop, gets to his feet, and drops the bottle back into his toolbox.
Sis flips the bike and leans it against the trolley. Reaching down, she puts the bullets and rifles back into the basket, turns to Abel, and smiles. “Thanks.”
“It’s nothing,” Abel says, waving a hand.
“I’m going to go now.”
“Back to that town?”
Sis nods. “King pass now.”
“That guy on the horse?”
Sis takes the handlebars and turns the bike around to face the shutters.
“We’re having some rabbit stew. You look like you could do with a good meal. Eat with us.”
There’s a long silence. Sis glances over at David as he peels the skin from the rabbit with a hunting knife. “You give me food?”
“Yep. If you help gather wood for the fire, you’re more than welcome to share.”
Sis swallows and nods, the faint trace of a smile flickering at the side of her mouth. “Okay.”
THE FLAMES CRACKLE in the corner while Abel, Sis and David sit elbow-to-elbow on the car seat. Abel puts his empty bowl on the floor next to his feet and sits back, patting his stomach. “That was good, kid. You’re really getting the hang of this.”
Sis slurps the last mouthful of stew, belches, and wipes her mouth with a bony wrist. “I like warm food,” she says, grinning. “Not had warm for long time.”
David nods and gets to his feet, picking up Abel’s bowl and taking Sis’s. “There’s usually more. It wasn’t the biggest rabbit. The potatoes and carrots were good though.”
Abel leans forward, rests his elbows on his knees, and turns to Sis. “What do you know about that king guy?”
Sis shudders. “He burn places, kill people. He take everything.”
“You saw him?”
Sis nods. “A place past my town. I go and get food. The king was there. He was killing people with rope, making them dance. He was laughing.”
Abel shakes his head. “Damn raiders,” he mutters.
“He say he rule these lands. He say to pledge al...al...”
“Allegiance?” Abel ventures.
“Yeah. He say the kingdom his. He say he ruler. He scare me.”
Abel rises to his feet and looks outside. “You can stick with us if you’re scared. We look out for each other. You know much about hunting?”
She gives him a blank look.
“How have you been eating?”
Sis stares down at her hands. “I find things, old things. I take them to settlement and they give me food.”
“You trade?”
Sis shrugs. “The king kill people I got food from.” She bites her bottom lip.
Abel nods. “I’ve been teaching the kid how to live. I can do the same for you.” He turns to David. “We should go check on those other traps and show Sis what you’ve been learning.”
ABEL CROUCHES OVER the body of a dead fox, one of its legs chewed to the bone around the trap's thread. “Foxes aren't great for meat—too bitter.”
Sis pushes the back of her hand against the fox's tail. “It's rough.”
“We can use the fur,” David says, unwrapping the twine from the fox's leg.
Abel gets to his feet, considering the fox for several moments. “We should take this to Big Ned. He'll know what to do with it.”
David lets out a loud sigh.
“What?” asks Abel.
“I hate that place. It's too weird.”
“Weird or not, they're good people.”
David turns to Sis. “Have you ever been to Town?”
She stares at him blankly and turns to Abel.
“It's a settlement west of here. They like to keep to themselves.”
“They’re weird,” David spits.
Abel’s lips grow tight. “And they’re our friends.”
“I still say they’re weird.”
“We’ll head there at first light.” Abel turns to Sis. “You’re welcome to stay with us tonight. We’ve got some spare blankets, and once the fire’s going it gets pretty warm.”
“I...I...” Sis stares down at her handlebars, shaking her head.
“You said yourself those raiders hit that place you got food,” David says. “Stay with us.”
“Okay.”
3. The Cow
Abel pours the beans from a pair of tins into three bowls, handing one to Sis and the other to David. Rubbing his eyes, Abel coughs as the wood smoke billows around him. The fox rests on the boat’s seat, a crescent of orange and white. “We should eat and get on the road. It’s a few hours to Town, so I want to get there and back while there’s still light.”
“You know they’ll just give you some rotten meat,” David says, rolling his eyes. “We should take those knives and forks we got and head straight for Trinity.”
Abel drops his spoon into his bowl, wiping his mouth with a forearm. “It’s too far, kid.”
“We’ve done it loads of times. You’re only saying that because you like Sal.”
“That’s not true.” Abel shakes his head, his eyes narrowing. “The days are getting shorter and it’s getting colder out there. We can’t afford to get caught in a blizzard.” He glances at the half-filled sack of root vegetables resting behind the boat and goes over to them. “We’ve got enough potatoes and carrots to last a few weeks. We’ve got a few dozen tins, and we’ve probably got another few weeks before the animals hibernate.”
David places his bowl on the ground and looks over to Sis as she polishes off the
last of her beans. “Slow down. You’ll give yourself a bad stomach.”
Sis ignores him.
David turns to Abel. “If she’s staying with us, food’s going to run out quicker.” He makes a furtive glance towards Sis. “Especially if she keeps eating like that.”
Abel nods and sits on the floor in front of the fire, poking it with a stick before picking up his bowl. “We’ll sort something,” he says, between mouthfuls. He turns to Sis. “What do you think?”
She gives an unsure look. “I don’t want to take your food.”
A half-smile curls at the corners of Abel’s lips. “We get food together and we share it. With three of us working together to hunt and find stuff for trade...” His half-smile turns into a grin. “The kid was saying we should start growing our own food. You think you could help with that?”
David looks up from his bowl. “We could plant potatoes and beets,” he says, eyes brightening. “We could even get chickens eventually, and goats.”
Abel chuckles. “One step at a time, kid.”
“We could make it like Trinity,” David says, getting to his feet. “We could build a fence and have cows.”
“What’s cows?” Sis asks.
“Big things with horns,” Abel says.
David mimes the shape of horns protruding from the sides of his temples with his fingers. “They make milk.”
Sis gives a confused look. “Milk?”
David leans back and lets out a loud mooing sound. Sis flinches and darts to her feet, pushing her back against the wall, wide-eyed.
“Hey,” Abel says. “It’s okay. He’s just playing. That’s the noise cows make.”
Sis’s eyes shift from Abel to David and back.
“He’s not going to hurt you,” Abel says. He smiles and puts his hands up to his ears, making horns with his fingers. “Moo,” he says, winking at Sis. “Moo.”
David laughs and does the same.
Sis gives a nervous smile. “Moo,” she says, her smile softening. “Moo.”
“She’s getting it, kid.” Abel says, laughing. He walks over to the shutters and raises them. “What do you think?” he asks, gesturing to the sky.
David stands at Abel’s side, his hand raised to shield his eyes from the glare. “Clouds are light. They’re not really moving.”
“So, what should we do?”
“It looks okay. I don’t think we’ll get rain.”
Abel pats David’s shoulder. “That’s good, kid. I think we’ll be alright.”
“How you know?” Sis asks, joining them.
“You can sometimes guess what’s going to happen by looking at the sky,” David says. “If the clouds are moving fast one way, but the wind’s going another, then you know to get shelter.”
Sis raises her eyebrows and turns to Abel. “You see that from sky?”
“Yep.” Abel rubs his beard. “It’s not always right, but you can usually make a good guess. You’ve got to watch and listen. You’ll start getting a feel for things when you let yourself.”
Sis nods. “We look for things different. I look for moving things. If something moves, I can tell before they see me. I scare them away and they won’t hurt me.”
“You mean, when you shoot at people?”
Sis licks her bottom lip and stares at Abel. “I don’t want them to do what they did to Becca.”
There’s a long silence and Abel nods. “You’ve had it hard, Sis. We’ll make sure you don’t have to shoot any more people. It’s not right.”
“You gave me food and blankets when I killed those people kicking at you.”
Abel rubs the back of his neck. “That was different...” His voice trails off. “It’s not for me to judge. I just want you to know that if you want to run with us, you can.”
A tiny smile edges across her face. She squints, scanning the trees, and then looks back into the garage. “Okay.”
4. Town
Abel trudges along the highway, the dead fox pushing against the back of his neck and shoulders, David at his side. Sis rides on ahead, circling back occasionally to let them know the road ahead is clear.
“You think she’s alright?” David asks in a low voice.
“What do you mean?”
David shrugs. “I don’t know. She seems alright. Bit jumpy, I guess.”
Abel sighs. “She’s had it hard, kid. I remember when I first met you. You’ve come on so much.”
“We all have.”
“Yep.”
They walk in silence past dead pines and bent lampposts. The highway’s mossy surface lies torn and patchy, revealing the asphalt beneath. Cars rest on their sides, tipped onto the bare earth at the highway’s edge.
“Everything’s moved,” David says, pointing to a pickup truck, lying on its roof, half-submerged in wet dirt.
“Those raiders must have cleared the way for their truck.”
“There’s people,” Sis says, bringing her bike to a stop.
When Abel and David catch up to her, she signals to a point in the distance. Abel stares for a long time, squinting as he sweeps his gaze across the rolling landscape. “I don’t see anything.”
“There.” Sis points again.
Abel shakes his head and turns to David. “What do you reckon, kid?”
David shrugs.
“There’s two people.” She takes a rifle from her basket and raises the sight up to her right eye.
“Don’t,” Abel snaps.
Sis turns to him, scowling. “I won’t shoot.” She lines-up the sight again and gestures to Abel, pointing at the lens. “Look.”
Abel frowns and slips the fox from his shoulders, laying it carefully on the road. He lines his right eye against the sight and looks through. “We know them.” He turns to David. “It’s Second Bob and Edna.”
“Why are they on the road?”
Abel shrugs and steps away from Sis, looking to where the sight was pointing. “Damn it, Sis,” he says, scooping up the fox and draping it over his shoulders, shuffling to distribute its weight. “You’ve got better eyes than me.”
Sis turns to him, shaking her head. “We look for different things.”
They walk for another ten minutes until Second Bob spots them and scrambles up the grassy embankment.
“Wait,” Abel calls out. “It’s just us.”
Second Bob stops as Edna emerges from behind a bramble bush, a tiny baby suckling at her breast. They stare at Abel with wild green eyes, their hair bright red and faces identical.
“Hey,” Abel smiles, gesturing to the child. “Is this the little one?”
“My boy,” Second Bob says, puffing out his chest.
“What’s he called?”
Second Bob gives a confused look. “Second Second Bob.”
“Why not Third Bob?” David asks.
“Third Bob dead. He traitor.”
“He looks like he’ll be a strong kid,” Abel says. “Just like his pa.”
“Thanks, mister.”
“Is Big Ned around? I’ve got this.” Abel pats the fox.
“You too late.”
“For what?”
“They break everything,” Edna says, pulling her top down and resting the baby over her shoulder.
“They burn our homes, mister. They take some women.”
“Who?”
“They came in night, mister. Had biggest critter I ever seen.”
“The king,” Sis says.
Second Bob gives her a blank look.
“Are they still there now?” Abel asks.
Second Bob shakes his head. “They gone.”
Abel clenches his fists. “Which way did they go?”
Second Bob exchanges a look with Edna, and shrugs. “It was dark, mister. We not see.”
“Where’s Big Ned?”
Second Bob gestures over his shoulder. “Town. But it not really Town now.”
THE WINDING DIRT TRACK towards Town lies clear. A trail of scattered tree trunks and car parts lines the r
oadside. “They make good path,” Second Bob says, looking around. “They had magic box. It went on wheels by itself.”
“We saw that,” David says. “It came up here?”
“They put our things in it. Took things from our wall too.” When the trail flattens to a plateau, he comes to halt and turns to Abel.
The cars that once stood as a wall around the settlement lie on their roofs, some still smouldering from the fires.
Several huts slump in collapsed heaps. Piles of wood and debris lie strewn across the ground. Strips of blue polythene hang tattered among the ruins. People meander around, some aimlessly, others trying to rebuild.
A tall man, identical to Second Bob save for a cleft palate, gets to his feet and puffs out his chest, his left eye swollen shut. “Abel,” he says. “They destroy us.”
Abel frowns at Big Ned, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe they did this.”
“It was man who keep calling himself king.”
“What happened to your eye?”
Big Ned snorts and spits out a glob of phlegm. “He ask me to bend my knee and kiss hand.” He lets out a wheezing laugh. “I told him I no kiss men.”
Abel looks around, frowning. “Everyone okay?”
“They kill three my boys and take four women. King pull the boys up on rope at that tree.” He takes in a sharp breath. “They laughed at my boys. They got to get got.”
“Did you see which way they went?”
Big Ned tugs at his rat skull necklace. “They head to where sun goes at night.”
Abel looks west and nods. He stops. “Are they on the highway?”
Big Ned knits his brow.
“The big road.” Abel gestures behind him.
“That where they went.”
Abel sighs. “They’re heading towards Trinity,” he says, turning to David. “We need to warn them.”
“That look like good eats,” Big Ned says, nodding towards the fox. “We got no trades.”
Abel lets the fox slide to the ground, its legs spindly against the dirt. “It’s yours. Don’t worry about trade. Make sure your people are fed.”
Big Ned nods and pats Abel’s back. “Next time you here, we make good eats.”