by T. S. Frost
Once they were ready, Piotr tossed in the rope as well and climbed in himself with all the ease and fluidity of the water around them, and pushed them away from the mainland docks. He took the controls, and then the craft turned quickly and shot towards the island in the distance with the same surprising speed as before. Alexa looked around, but couldn't figure out how the solar panels hooked into the engine, and finally said, “Hey, uh, Piotr–“
“You may call me Peter,” the man interrupted. “As my friends here do.”
Alexa grinned at him. “Peter it is! So, uh, how are you getting the speed? You're not even using the sails to augment the engine! How is the engine set up? And just how did you manage to get all the way here, anyway? The West Coast would have been much easier to reach from Russia.”
“The engine would take too long to explain in any real detail and as for how we got here... that, also, is a very long story.” Peter answered with a tired sigh.
Alexa looked skeptical, and opened her mouth to argue. But Casey elbowed her hard in the ribs, this time and glared at Alexa so hard she could almost feel the burning holes in her face. The message was clear: don't start.
Thankfully, Peter was seated at the front of the boat with his back to them as he directed the craft, and had not witnessed the exchange. Alexa covered up her pained grunt at the elbow to the ribcage with a faint, “Okay,” and once she'd recovered her breath, added with more genuine interest, “So, uh, things are going alright where you're from, then?”
Peter glanced over his shoulder for a moment and frowned. “Yes,” he said slowly, “Things are going very well in Russia.” The response sounded clipped, guarded, and just slightly bitter.
Alexa winced. “Ah. Uh. Sorry. Didn't mean to like, pry or anything...”
But Peter shook his head. “My apologies. I did not mean to be curt with you. Russian politics have been... strained... of late.” After a moment of hesitation, he added more softly, “Most of my people believe our isolationist policy is to our benefit and live comfortably enough, as though the world is not dying. But not all of us agree that this is right.”
“I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess that's why you're hanging around New Avalon?”
“Yes. I, and a few others, have left at the behest of our faction and are hoping to make a difference.” Peter sighed, and glanced back over his shoulder, this time towards the ruined skyline. “Though I fear we may have made the decision a bit too late.”
“Better late than never,” Alexa told him, with a cheer that wasn't entirely forced. Beside her, Casey nodded quietly.
They switched to lighter topics for a short time, as Peter guided the craft closer to the island. Alexa enthusiastically asked about how things worked in his country, which the Russian answered with patience and occasional amusement, and he in turn asked questions about America–what it had been like before, and what it was like now.
Casey, for the most part, remained quiet, although he occasionally volunteered his own opinions or observations on the things he'd seen since being woken. Not that either of them mentioned that part.
Then at last they had arrived. Peter carefully shifted the boat up next to the docks that lead up to the town. He helped them out of the boat, handing them their packs carefully, and then leaped up onto the docks after them one last time to say his farewells.
“I have been working in concert with New Avalon and its leaders for several months now, as have my companions,” he told them. “It has been the most agreeable and accepting colony we have found so far, and it suits us. We will be here for some time yet. I do not know how long the two of you intend to remain here, but if you require assistance in the future–perhaps transportation to a safer part of the Coast–do not hesitate to ask.”
“Wow, Peter, that's real nice of you,” Alexa said. “Not that I don't appreciate it, but any reason why?”
Peter shrugged. “Adapting to the new world has been... difficult,” he explained. “It is no wonder; your people are frightened and worn, and most of them distrust us because they believe we abandoned them. It has been a pleasure to meet travelers with a more positive outlook on life.”
Well, that certainly explained the wariness earlier. Peter had probably been expecting ranting or outright rejection from weary, frightened travelers. “Oh. Well, y'know. Anytime!”
Peter chuckled. “It has been good to meet you, Alexa,” he said, and then said something to Casey in Russian. Casey responded in kind, and Peter nodded before leaping back to his boat, with ease. The boat turned in the water and moved off to return to patrolling a moment later, leaving them standing alone.
“Okay,” Alexa said, “That was pretty cool. Now I really can't wait to talk to my friend here, I've got a lot more questions for him then I first thought.” She shouldered her pack and gestured for Casey to follow after her.
Once upon a time the island had hosted numerous robust trees, part of the island had even been a nature reserve. But both those days and those trees were long gone now, chopped down to provide lumber for New Avalon's various construction projects. It made the island look a bit barren and dead, and Alexa almost wondered if it would have been preferable to try to preserve at least some of them.
It also meant there was absolutely zero obstacles to obscure the docks or anyone who might want to use them, meaning the guards were waiting for them when they finally approached. There were eight of them on the ground that stood on either side of the gate.
Several more were up on the reinforced walls, behind strong, tall stone partitions. All but two were armed with various models of bows and crossbows, and the last two more impressively with hunting rifles, all of which were trained on Alexa and Casey as they approached.
There were also two dogs, large well-muscled specimens of indeterminate breed, each one standing next to its master with the air of well-trained police animals. None of them made a noise, just waited as the two travelers approached.
Alexa was aware of the low rumbling noise in Casey's throat very suddenly, and realized her companion was tensing up again, looking like he was preparing for a fight.
“Woah, Casey,” she hissed as warning, reminding him who he was supposed to be at the moment, “Relax, everything's okay! They just guard the place, make sure no zombies get in. They just have to make sure we're not zoms or zoms-in-waiting. Just stay calm and do what they tell you, alright?”
Casey did not look happy with this order, and clearly did not enjoy having the weapons trained on them like this. Or rather, Alexa realized after a moment, he didn't seem to like that they were trained on her, which she supposed made sense; Casey was tougher than her and might survive getting shot by everything here, after all, but she would be turned into swiss cheese pretty fast.
It might have worried him, but it was misplaced. She'd just have to show Casey it was okay before he did something too rash.
Grinning with as much cheer and charm as she could muster, Alexa stepped forward into speaking range, holding up her hands slowly to show she was unarmed.
“Hey guys,” she said, being very careful to accentuate the fact that she could speak as well, “Just a couple travelers stopping in for some trade and a chance to rest safely. No dead heads here.”
The guards nodded to show they heard her, but did not lower the weapons just yet. “Your friend?”
“Go ahead and introduce yourself, Casey,” Alexa told him–stressing the name again between them, just to be safe–and then to the guards she added for Casey's benefit, “I found him running it solo down south, figured he could probably use the rest, but he, uh, hasn't been around people for a while. Bit jumpy.”
Well, it was mostly true, anyway, and it wouldn't be the first time newbies had been shocked and nervous about New Avalon's security. Sure enough, one of the guards nodded, and said sternly but not unkindly, “Just give us yer name, okay, kid?”
Casey grit his teeth and glared at the guards a little distrustfully, but after a moment said, “My name is Case
y. I'm not a zom.”
This seemed to be enough for the guards to lower their weapons, although the bowmen kept arrows nocked if not drawn, just to be safe. “You can come forward to be searched,” the lead guard told them, gesturing with one hand as he set aside his rifle.
“Searched?” Casey questioned, still sounding distrustful.
“They just have to make sure we weren't bitten,” Alexa assured him hastily. “Or that we're not carrying anything that could infect people. They don't want to let anybody in that could turn while inside the walls. One zombie on the inside could ruin everything they've worked for.”
Alexa stepped forward and handed over her pack, and then dutifully obeyed the instructions of the guards, shrugging off her jacket so they could check her for tell-tale bites or bloodstains. They worked quickly and efficiently to look her over, while another guard looked quickly through her supplies and trade goods and then set it down for the guard dog to examine.
Nothing was found on Alexa or in the pack, and just as quickly the guards handed her her jacket and repacked her possessions, returning them without any attempts at bribery or theft. New Avalon ran a tight ship with its guards, who were extremely well-trained, disciplined, and hand-picked by the head of security.
A breakdown in security would put the entire island at risk, and New Avalon's leaders were determined to prevent it from even becoming a problem to begin with.
Casey still hadn't come forward for his own search, and did not seem pleased with the precautions. Alexa winced a little inwardly. She'd been wondering how Casey would react tor people that weren't her, and had hoped after meeting Peter that he'd handle it okay.
Apparently being trained to be a living weapon, followed by three years of isolation in a pod and then a month of survival training, were not really things that helped one develop good social skills. Casey was not comfortable with the situation, and when he got uncomfortable he also had a tendency to get violent.
“Casey,” she said, “It's fine. Seriously. Just takes a few seconds. Relax, we've got nothing to hide, remember?”
It was a subtle reminder to not cause trouble because if they did people would start looking closer, and if they started looking closer at Casey... well, it could be bad.
Casey got the message, clearly, because although he grit his teeth and his frown was so deep it was almost scary, he grudgingly came forward and handed over his pack. Just like Alexa, the search was over quickly, but even so Casey was tense the entire time and clearly was not fond of people being this close to him or touching him.
“There ya go, kid,” the same guard as before said–again, not unkindly–as he handed the bag back. The men seemed to think Casey was one of the more shell-shocked zom survivors, dazed or frightened by too much human contact, and were at least attempting to make things easier on him.
It wouldn't be the first time they'd met civilians so unused to people or kindness after surviving that they didn't know how to handle it, after all. “Doing just fine. Just the dog test and yer done.”
“Dog test?” Casey questioned, giving Alexa a quick look.
“Just gotta walk past the dogs,” Alexa supplied for him quickly. “Remember how animals out in the wilderness could tell when zoms were around and they'd run or go quiet? Well, people figured out you can train dogs to do the same thing. If we were infected they'd know and start barking and stuff. But they won't, because we're not.”
She gestured for them to move forward when the guards signaled they were ready, with one dog set up on either side like a primitive biological metal detector. The dogs sat there placidly, unconcerned, although the one on Casey's side gave him a quizzical sniff at the unfamiliar scent before tentatively licking his hand.
Casey blinked, but gave the dog a careful pat on the head in return, smiling faintly. Alexa thought it was kind of funny, and a little sad, that Casey did better with the burly, scary-looking zom-dogs than with other people, but kept her observations to herself.
“You're good,” the guard leader said to Alexa, as Casey left the dog and came to stand behind her. “You need instructions or references for inside?”
“No, I know where I'm going and who I'm speaking to,” Alexa assured quickly. “Been here a few times.” The guard nodded, and signaled to several of the others up on the walls. A moment later the gate creaked open just enough to let a person slip through, and Alexa led the way into New Avalon proper.
Chapter 6
“I didn't like that,” Casey growled, glancing distastefully over his shoulder as the gate snapped shut behind them again. He still looked a little anxious, and that caused him to be a bit snappish, and surly as a result. “They could have shot you. Or made a mistake. Or taken all the things we scavenged.”
Alexa sighed. “I don't like it either, LS, but it is necessary. They're strict about it here–this is the only way in, those gates lead to steep bluffs about a hundred yards in either direction, and everybody gets checked, every time. Better to just deal with it, especially since New Avalon is pretty good about having decent guards.”
Casey did not look appeased. After a moment, though, he asked, “What would have happened if one of us got infected?”
“They wouldn't get to come in,” Alexa said, rather evasively. It wasn't a topic she wanted to pursue further.
She'd seen the results, here and elsewhere, and it was always haunting and unpleasant: infected victims, or their terrified family members or friends, pleading, for the victims to be let inside. It couldn't happen–a single infected victim could spread the Z-plague quickly and suddenly through an unsuspecting community, and they couldn't take the risk.
It was still sickening and terrifying to watch those people be torn away from their families or denied their last shred of a chance at hope and comfort. And sometimes it was worse.
At New Avalon, they simply turned infected victims away. Alexa had heard of a few shoot-on-sight policies at other colonies. In some places it was considered a mercy, but to Alexa it was just plain wrong.
Casey caught the darker tone in her voice quickly, and didn't push further, for which Alexa was grateful. She really didn't want to discuss this with Casey right now. Instead, she gestured to the landscape in front of her and said, “Well, here we are. What do you think?”
If New Avalon was impressive on the outside, it was even more so on the inside. The northernmost point, where they were situated, had once been a tree-lined road, followed by open grounds with information booths where tourists could get situated and make arrangements if they were planning to stay the night.
The trees, like the ones outside the gate, had long since been cut down and converted to lumber, but the booths remained; some were used as watch points and security stations, while others had clearly been converted to storage sheds or workshops.
The ground was almost invisible by now – the wide-open courtyards and lawns had long since become an intricate system of semi-permanent weaving streets, stalls, and lean-to shelters. Visitors could rest, trade for goods and news, gossip, or look for work here.
On the far side of the island, spreading from west to east, were the major buildings that had made up the original town, and still served as vital parts of New Avalon today.
There were people everywhere. While many of them had the haggard, dull-eyed look of people barely pulling through in the apocalypse, there were just as many that were bright-eyed and energetic, going about their day without that air of inevitability hanging over their shoulders. Life was hard here, but not impossible, and these people had some degree of hope.
Alexa had been to New Avalon several times, now–she liked to check in with her friends and trade for supplies here in between trips–but it never ceased to amaze her. She was pretty sure it had one of the highest populations out of the major colonies, but even so they managed to keep a stunning amount of order here at the same time, and the people actually felt, if not happy, at least somewhat content here and safe.
They weren't living
in terror of zoms or distrust of their fellow humans; they were surviving, there was community, and there was control, which was better than what most of the world had at the moment.
A quick glance at Casey told her the clone was equally amazed by what he was seeing, although perhaps not for the same reasons. Alexa appreciated New Avalon for the potential good future it offered, and for being granted the ability to see some semblance of society again.
While she spent most of her time wandering the world alone, it was always nice to see people, just to be reminded you weren't the only one left in the world. Casey, on the other hand, had never seen this many people gathered together before in one place, and appeared a little overwhelmed by the crowds and the rush of sights, smells, sounds, and general feeling of life everywhere.
“There's so many,” Casey said, almost weakly. “And they're all... none of them are...”