The Wasteland Series: Books 1-3 of the post-apocalyptic survival series

by Jon Cronshaw

  “We got water,” Sis says. “We boil it like you say.”

  Abel takes the spoons from his rucksack, offering them to David and Sis. Grabbing his own tin, he drives the spoon inside, and shovels the beans into his mouth. “You two still okay with the plan?”

  “It's fine,” David says. “I just wish—” He looks up with a jerk as a person stands over him.

  “Hey,” says Abel, getting to his feet. He turns to David, putting an arm around the man. “Kid, remember me telling you about that wizard?”

  David nods. “Alf, right?”

  The wizard ignores David and turns to Abel. “Are we okay to talk, man?”

  “Sure, take a seat.”

  The wizard shakes his head. “Alone.”

  Abel shrugs. “Let me just grab these.” He leans down and picks up his tin of beans.

  “This way.”

  Abel follows the wizard past campfires and cars, the exposed metal along the Grid twinkling with the reflected moonlight. The wizard's poncho flaps as he walks, the plastic crackling and shifting in time with his steps. He comes to a halt at the Grid’s south end, stopping abruptly, Abel almost knocking into him. “How's it look?”

  The campervan stands in the night, its sides stripped away, back door bent against a wooden ramp extending beyond the cabin’s front.

  Abel’s eyes widen. “Wow.”

  The wizard walks over to the ramp, running a hand along its path. Reaching beneath the chassis, he drags out a tangled coil of chains. “I found this,” he says in a low voice.

  Abel nods. “Is that?”

  “Yeah. We know it can pull this thing.”

  Abel licks his lips, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right.” He looks around. “Is this the only way?”

  “This is no time to get sentimental, man. Give me a hand with this. We need to untangle it.”

  “Just going to finish these,” Abel says, gesturing to his tin. He spoons the beans into his mouth, his eyes drifting between the wizard and the campervan. Tossing the can aside, he wipes his spoon with a cloth and pockets it.

  “You should pick that up, man,” the wizard says. “It's not like when you were here. People care about this place. Some of us have been trying to make it good.”

  Going over to the tin, Abel squashes it beneath his foot and slips it into his pocket. He sits on the ground next to the wizard and takes up a piece of chain, straightening it along the ground, unravelling the knots. “If the plan works, you’re not going to be at this place for much longer.”

  “Maybe. Maybe, not.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if it doesn't work, this is it.”

  Abel yanks at another length of chain. “If it doesn't work, we'll be dead.”

  “I'll be fine.”

  “That's good. Confidence is good.”

  The wizard snorts. “I'm not confident. I'm staying here.”

  Abel raises an eyebrow and turns to the wizard. “Staying here?”

  “That's what I said.”

  “But we need all the people we can.”

  Shaking his head, the wizard puts down his chain and gets to his feet, brushing down his trousers. “These chains look good, man. I'm going to go eat.”

  “But what about Trinity?”

  The wizard shrugs. “This isn’t my battle, man. Why should I care? I'll come when I know it's safe.”

  Abel sighs. “You're a coward, you know that?”

  “I'm a survivor,” the wizard snaps. “Rather be a coward than dead.”

  28. Burden

  Abel trudges forward, leaning into the chain around his shoulders as he pulls the campervan’s remains onto the highway. The first flickers of sunlight shimmer above as Big Ned, David, and Second Bob come to a stop at Abel's side.

  “It's going to be hard run, mister,” Second Bob says.

  Abel wipes his brow, dropping the chains to the ground. “You’ve got that right. But if we work together, we can do this.”

  “They got to get got,” says Big Ned. “We got to get our women back.”

  Abel nods and turns to David. “Listen, kid. If I don't make it back, the garage is yours. Take Sis there, look after each other, keep each other safe.”

  David runs at Abel, hugging him. “I wish I was coming with you.”

  “It'll be alright, kid. You need to stay here.”

  “I know.” David looks at the ground, kicking a stone.

  “So proud of you, kid,” Abel says, tussling David's hair. “I really hope this isn't goodbye.”

  “Okay,” David manages, blinking.

  “Same goes for you,” Abel says when Sis emerges from behind the ramp. “Keep each other safe, this is no world to be alone.”

  Scores of people gather near the campervan, some of them with guns, most of them with spears, spikes, and bows. A dozen or so car doors are held on the shoulders of men and women. Residents of Trinity, the Grid, and Town stand shoulder-to-shoulder.

  A young woman with straggly blonde hair stares at the ramp, shaking her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. She locks eyes with Abel and smiles.

  Big Ned leaps onto the ramp, clambering to the top. He spins in a crouch, his spear held out before him. “These people took our people and they burn our home. We need to fight. They got to get got. They got to get got real good. Let's go kill. They no more than critters.”

  Many people let out a cheer when Big Ned drops down from the ramp. Others look at each other with confused expressions on their faces.

  Sal sidles up to Abel. “Should I speak to them?” she asks in a hushed voice.

  Abel nods. “They'll want to hear from you.”

  Taking a deep breath, Sal makes her way up the ramp with tiny, tentative steps, one hand placed down for support. She looks around as the people stare up at her, pushing herself to a standing position. “I want to thank everybody for their sacrifice. Those of us who came from Trinity know what a difficult journey lies ahead. You know what we will face when we arrive. I've prayed for all of us and I'm so grateful for the assistance and support of those of you who have not been part of our community before. Going forward, this will change and I know we will be successful.” She bows her head, pushing her hands together in prayer. “Let us pray,” she says. “Dear Lord, please give us the strength to complete our journey and offer us your protection in our time of struggle. We hope that you will bless us with the power and the conviction to carry out this journey and to assist us in taking back our home so we can continue to do your work on Earth. Amen.”

  A muttering spreads through the crowd and Sal descends the ramp. She walks over to Abel who smiles at her. “That was good,” he says.

  “Thank you.”

  Abel climbs the ramp and looks over the crowd. “I'm going to need some volunteers to help pull this thing, maybe a few to push as well.”

  Big Ned steps forward, raising a hand. “I'll do that.”

  “That's great,” Abel says. “I'll do it as well. That's two. We can do with four at the front, so two more.”

  Sal steps forward. “I will take up the burden.”

  Abel shakes his head. “You should stay here. If Alf is staying, then it's only right.”

  “I need to lead my people. I need to lead by example. I will not stay behind while everybody else takes great risk.” She folds her arms. “I'm coming and I'm going to pull that thing.”

  After a moment's silence, Abel shrugs. “Okay, so long as you're sure.” He looks around. “One more?”

  The young woman with blonde straggly hair raises a hand and calls out in a weak voice.

  Abel gives her an unsure look. “I don't think that's a good idea. Doesn't seem right.”

  “I pulled this before,” she says. “I can do it.”

  “But—”

  “Don't talk me out of it. Last time I did this, I was forced. When I think of pulling this thing, it's all about badness. If I do it for something good and it's my choice, I know it's the right thing. I need to.�
�

  Abel pats the woman’s shoulder and offers her a smile. “Okay,” he says. “Let's do this.”

  29. Guards

  Abel, Big Ned and a few others wheel the ramp off the highway’s edge, pushing it towards a copse of trees. The moon beams down from above, the sky clear and air still. Wiping his brow with a sleeve, Abel scrambles up the ramp, the crowd looking up at him. “I know it's going to be hard, but you will need to try to get some rest. We need to be as refreshed as possible for tomorrow.”

  “How are we going to sleep out here?” a man asks.

  “You've got cover from the trees. We should be okay making fires here. It's not perfect, but it's better than nothing.”

  “We want to go now,” Big Ned says, beating his chest with the side of his spear. “Let's go get them.”

  “Not yet,” Abel says, raising a hand. “There's no point in going in until we know what we're dealing with.”

  “We already know what we’re dealing with,” a man calls. “We were there when they took our homes.”

  Abel nods. “True enough. But how many guards are there by the front gate? How many are there around the back? Do the guards have routes they follow?”

  The man drops his gaze. “You made your point.”

  “I'm going to take a look myself and see what we’re dealing with. I'll be gone for a few hours. If I’m not back by sunrise, assume the worst.” He swallows.

  “I want to come with you,” Sal says.

  “No,” Abel says, shaking his head. “I need to do this alone. I'm pretty good at hiding when I need to. The more people that go, the more chance there is of getting spotted.” He climbs down from the ramp, removing his pack and shotgun. “I need you to look after these. They'll just slow me down.”

  “You can't go out there unarmed.”

  “If I get caught, one weapon isn't going to help me. I’ve got my knife and pistol.” He shrugs. “Not that I can do anything with it.”

  ABEL APPROACHES TRINITY from the west, his head ducked as he creeps between hay bales. He blinks in the low light as the stars twinkle beyond the milky white moon. Shadowy smoke rises from inside as dark shapes glide along the fence’s top.

  Moving toward the road, he squints at the fence, keeping his eyes averted from the moonlight, a hand held over his brow. He reaches the edge of an irrigation ditch, its sides piled with earth. With a sigh, he drops down to his belly and rests his chin on his crossed forearms, watching, waiting.

  Every few minutes, two guards raise their heads over the fence, look around a few times, and then move on.

  Abel shudders as coldness grips him, muscles seizing as his breath turns to steam. He sits up, shivering, his teeth chattering as he rubs his thighs and wiggles his toes inside his boots.

  The heads appear again and Abel ducks. He counts to twenty before looking up. A guard calls out and Abel scrambles to his feet, staggering backwards as his boots catch on the uneven ground, head smacking against a stone.

  Shaking free of the purple and white spots that fill his vision, Abel gets up, frowning as Trinity’s entrance slides open and two armed men emerge.

  “Damn it,” he mutters, turning and running.

  He flinches at the crack of a rifle. The bullet sends a clump of soil into the air to his right. Glancing over his shoulder, he curses as the men stride over to the road’s edge, taking aim. He lowers his head, running and stumbling in zigzags. When he reaches a hay bale, he takes cover behind it to catch his breath, his back pushed against the stiff, spiky hay.

  Poking his head around the side, he watches as the men shrug and amble back inside, closing the fence behind them.

  He waits for several minutes, his sweat turning icy along his body. After a while, the guards fall back into their usual pattern. Abel sighs and heads back towards the camp.

  THE CLUSTER OF CAMPFIRES burns in a blinding orange, the light reflecting against the whites of people's eyes as they glance up at Abel.

  Sal runs towards him, embracing him. “I was so worried about you. How was it?” She picks a twig from his beard.

  “Hard to say,” Abel says, rubbing the back of his neck. “There are a couple of people on watch. They spotted me, but I managed to hide. Apart from that it was pretty quiet.”

  “So what should we do?”

  “We need to get the ramp to the main entrance. I was thinking a couple of us could go in first. It will be a lot easier if we can get the gate open.”

  “What about those guards?”

  “I was thinking we could send Big Ned's people across the fields to create a diversion around the other side.”

  “Can’t we all just use the ramp?”

  “It’s not going to work. There’s too many of us. It will take too long.”

  “I'm scared,” Sal says, biting her bottom lip.

  “Scared is good—it will keep you sharp.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Try to sleep.”

  “I don't think that's going to happen tonight.”

  “As soon as we start to see the sun coming up, we need to be on the road. You’re not going to be any use to anyone if you're tired.” Abel shudders and rubs his hands.

  Sal places a hand on his forehead. “You should get yourself warm, you feel like ice.”

  “I need to speak to Big Ned. I’ll get myself warm by his fire.”

  “They’ve been cooking something rancid. There’s been some horrible smells.”

  “Should be easy to find them.” Abel smiles. “Now try to sleep.” He turns and wanders through the camp. People lie huddled on the ground, fires burning at their feet.

  The stench of rotting meat drifts through the air. He follows the smell, dipping his head beneath branches as ferns whip his legs. Reaching a clearing, Big Ned and Second Bob sit poking a fire. “Ned, can I have a word?”

  “You want talks?”

  “Yep. Mind if I sit by your fire?”

  “Sit.” Big Ned pats the ground. “You had eats?”

  Abel kneels before the flames, holding his hands out to the heat. He glances at the chunks of half-cooked meat lying in the dirt. “Had some beans earlier. I’m good.”

  Big Ned snorts out a laugh. “Beans make you weak.”

  “And do trumps, mister,” Second Bob says. “Make bad smells.”

  “We eat meat. Make us ready for fight.”

  “Had some of that critter left you brought us,” Second Bob says. “Bit green, but it still good eats.”

  Abel waves his hands. “Honestly, I’d rather you kept strong. For tomorrow.”

  “You got plans?” Big Ned asks.

  “We need you and your people to approach Trinity from the rear. I was thinking you could cause a distraction, try to get in at the other end.”

  “We not missing out. We need to fight. They got to get got.”

  “This is the best way. If anything you'll be the first ones.”

  Big Ned grins.

  “It's going to be difficult to know who's doing what. You should have a couple of your people sending signals?”

  Big Ned shakes his head. “What you mean? We fighters.”

  Abel tugs at his beard. “Yep. You are stronger and tougher than anyone I know, but there's no point in us going up there with the ramp to get in if you don't know when to go.”

  There’s a long pause as Big Ned rubs his chin. “Shenanigans. We trick them good. Like hunting tree critter.”

  “Right,” Abel agrees. “That's it.”

  “One of you shakes it out of tree, other bash it with club. Then you got some good eats.” He wrinkles his nose. “I ain't eating no people.”

  “No one is expecting you to,” Abel says, frowning. “Keep focused on the signal and give them all you've got when it's time.”

  Big Ned slaps Abel on the arm, his lips peeling back in a toothy grin. “We can get this king. We're going to bash them up good.” He rubs his hands together. “They'll all get got and we'll get our women back.”

  30. The
Fence

  Abel stops at the highway’s edge, signalling for the others to bring the campervan to a halt. “Ned,” he says in a hushed voice. “I need you to take your people across this field. You should see the fence after a while to the right.”

  “We wait for signal,” Big Ned says.

  Abel nods, switching the shotgun to his other shoulder, lifting it awkwardly around his backpack. “Be as quiet as you can. Remember, if this is going to work, they need to hear you first.”

  “We be creeping. Don't worry. We'll get them good.” Big Ned drops from the highway, leading Town’s residents into the darkness.

  Abel turns to Sal. “You ready?”

  “You sure this is going to work?”

  Abel shrugs. “Best not think about that.” He looks past Sal, casting his gaze over the scores of people looking back at him, eyes bright with reflected moonlight. “Sun's going to be up real soon. Does anyone need me to go over the plan?” Abel waits as a few people shuffle and cough. “Good. Let's do this.”

  The trail towards Trinity snakes ahead, the road surface shrouded in blackness. Abel and Sal switch places with the people towing the ramp, helping each other fasten the chains around their shoulders. A man and woman join them as a couple of people hold car doors out in front of them like shields. Abel takes the strain, grunting as the wheels start to turn. Sal mutters something to Abel's right. “What was that?” he asks.

  Sal takes in a deep breath through her nose. “I'm trying to pray.”

  “You and God still on good terms then?”

  “I'm looking for a sign.”

  “Right.” Abel leans forward, regaining his balance as his feet catch on discarded junk. The first hints of gloaming shimmer along the sky to his right, faint flickers of oranges and purples and reds catching the edges of clouds.

  “Damn it,” Abel says, as a sheet of wood slips beneath his foot. He looks down at the gaping trench. “Wait.”

  The others stagger to a halt. “What is it?” a man asks.

  “I need a couple of the people with doors to go on ahead. I think we can steer around this one, but I don't want any of us falling into any of these pits.”