A Hole in the Sky

by William C. Dietz

  So if it hadn’t been for the ever-present threat of attack, the day would have been quite pleasant. Rowdy scouted ahead and they followed a path through a grove of nearly naked oaks. Their fallen leaves lay like a beautiful carpet on the ground and rustled underfoot.

  Then, at about four in the afternoon, they spotted vultures circling in the distance. Big birds that were already fat from feasting on death and were circling their next meal. Against the lead-gray sky they looked like black crosses. “Something died,” Susan commented. “Or is about to die.”

  “Yeah,” Capelli agreed. “I guess we should take a look.”

  With a low whistle he brought Rowdy in. Then, with the dog trotting alongside them, Capelli and Susan made their way up a gentle slope towards the top of a hill. Instead of breaking the skyline, they dropped onto their bellies short of the summit and crawled the rest of the way.

  After securing Rowdy to a sapling, Capelli elbowed his way to the crest of the hill where Susan was eyeing the area through the Fareye’s telescopic sight. Capelli brought the Marksman around for the same purpose. The first thing he saw was an overgrown field. Beyond that was some rusty farm equipment, a sad-looking farmhouse, and a barn.

  The birds were circling over the area in front of the house. That’s where what looked like a little girl was crouched next to a dead body. Capelli was reminded of Leena lying out in the middle of the highway with her daughter nearby.

  “See the little girl?” Susan inquired. “She needs help.”

  “It’s a trap,” Capelli said firmly. “Just like the one the circus people used to capture me. And there’s rules six and eight to consider.”

  Susan turned to look at him. “Which are?”

  “Mind your own business—and don’t trust anyone.”

  Capelli saw the quizzical expression on her face. “What?” he asked defensively. “You disagree?”

  “You would be dead if I believed in rule six.”

  Capelli thought about that. “Has anyone ever mentioned how obnoxious you are?”

  Susan chuckled. “My brother mentioned it almost every day as we were growing up.”

  Capelli heard laughter echo inside his head. He hadn’t told Susan about the voice and didn’t plan to. She’s smarter than you are, Hale said, so get used to it.

  Capelli sighed. “Okay. I’ll go down. At least I’ll have someone to cover me.”

  “Count on it,” Susan replied. “And be sure to circle around behind the barn. If there are people lying in wait you’ll see them.”

  It was good advice. So good it was what Capelli would have done anyway. He was about to say as much when he saw the look in her eye. He’d been talking to the ex–farm girl for the last few hours. This was the other Susan. The one who had been trained to kill people and was very good at it. He bit the words off. “Roger that. I’ll leave the Marksman and the pack here.”

  “Good idea. And take Rowdy.”

  Capelli nodded, put the rifle aside, and shrugged his way out of the pack. After he backed down the slope, he released the dog and headed north. The Bullseye was at the ready, and it felt good to be free of the pack.

  The dirt road cut through the saddle between two hills and offered a natural crossing point. Capelli slipped through, eyed the area ahead, and made for the barn. The vultures continued to circle overhead. But except for them, and the rabbit that led Rowdy north, the farm was empty of life. Or so it seemed, anyway.

  But Capelli wasn’t satisfied until he checked the barn’s interior, approached the house, and entered through the back door. The house had been looted, but there were no signs it was occupied. So where had the man and the little girl come from? That question was still on his mind as Capelli exited through the front door. What looked like a recent campfire was visible in front of the house. The body was still there, as was the little girl, who was wearing a coat that was much too large for her. She looked frightened.

  “Don’t be scared,” Capelli said gruffly. “I won’t hurt you. Is this your father?”

  “Daddy’s sick,” the grubby-faced moppet explained. “He won’t wake up.”

  Capelli knelt on the east side of the body so that if it came to sudden life he wouldn’t block Susan’s shot. Then he felt for a pulse. It was thready, and the man’s breathing was shallow.

  Capelli was no doctor, but he was an ex-soldier, and familiar with the symptoms of hypothermia. He looked up at the girl. “What’s your name, honey?”

  “Amy.”

  “Tell me something, Amy! Are you cold?”

  The little girl shook her head. “Daddy gave me his jacket.”

  Susan arrived at that point. She was carrying both packs and the Marksman. “Who’s your new friend?”

  “This is Amy,” Capelli answered. “And the man is her father. I think he’s suffering from hypothermia. As far as I can tell, Amy and her dad don’t have any gear. And she’s wearing his jacket. Let’s get him into my sleeping bag, start a fire, and pour some tea down his gullet.”

  It took twenty minutes to warm the man to the point where he could speak. He was wrapped in Capelli’s sleeping bag with his back against Susan’s pack as he told the story.

  “My name is Shaw. Roger Shaw. Amy and I were thrown out of a community called Tunnel-Through. They left us with nothing more than my pocket knife and the clothes on our backs,” he said.

  “We spent the first night huddled in a hollow between some big boulders. I managed to start a fire the Boy Scout way, with a bow, a stick, and a fireboard. I knew the light could attract trouble, but we needed the heat, and it worked out okay.

  “When the sun came up, we set out to find a place where we could do some scavenging and wound up here. The house was pretty well picked over. There weren’t any clothes. But I found a can of peaches in the back of a cupboard, and was still searching the place, when two men arrived out front. They looked rough, and were well armed, so I figured we should hide.

  “I knew they’d search the house and I was right,” he continued. “As they came in the front door, we went out the back, and made straight for that truck.”

  The man was pointing towards the jumble of rusting farm machinery northwest of the house. There an old flatbed truck was sitting on blocks. Capelli nodded. “Then what?”

  “Then we got in, closed the door, and got down on the floor.” Shaw shrugged. “It was a good hiding spot. The men never came close. But rather than leave the way I hoped they would, the men set up camp. And as night fell it got colder. A lot colder. I gave Amy the peaches and juice a little bit at a time. That got her through.

  “Eventually morning rolled around, and the sun came up, but I couldn’t stop shivering. I began to feel dizzy, and was about to pass out, when the men finally left. I got out of the truck, stumbled over to where the campfire had been, and realized that I was going to need some firewood. So I was about to go find some when the lights went out. When I woke up you were here. Thank you, by the way—I’m very grateful.”

  Capelli stood and made a beeline for the truck. Rowdy went with him.

  Shaw frowned. “Where’s he going?”

  Susan was sitting cross-legged, trying to comb the tangles out of Amy’s dirty hair. “I’m not sure. But, if I had to guess, I’d say he’s going over to check on rule six. Or is it rule seven? No, that’s ‘pee when you can.’ ”

  Shaw, who was completely mystified, watched Capelli return.

  “So,” Susan said, “what did you conclude?”

  Capelli held an empty peach can up for her to see. “I found this in the cab.”

  “So they can come with us?”

  “Yeah,” Capelli said evenly. “They can.”

  Haven, Oklahoma

  The walk from the farmhouse to the outskirts of Haven was eerily quiet. It was open country, with occasional groves of trees, and lots of flat farmland. All of which appeared to be deserted. But Capelli knew that appearances can be deceiving as they entered the town. It looked as if a Chimeran hunter-killer team
had taken a stroll through Haven and leveled most of it. “I saw a flash of light from the direction of that tower,” Susan said. “Somebody’s watching us.”

  Capelli looked, saw a three-story structure poking up out of the ruins, and nodded approvingly. “As they should.”

  “What do you think they’ll do?”

  “I don’t know. If it was me, I’d let people stroll through. But if they began to poke around, or set up camp, I’d scare them off.”

  That made sense to Susan as the group made its way down what a sign proclaimed to be Grand Street. It wasn’t so grand anymore. The Chimera had left a broad swath of destruction through the town and no effort had been made to repair the damage, which made sense.

  One thing was strange, however. Or so it seemed to Susan, who had a sharp eye for details. There wasn’t very much lumber lying around. Of course, it takes plenty of wood to shore up tunnels and keep them in good repair. So if the locals were living underground, then most of the available materials had been put to use somewhere under her feet. Is this the place? she wondered. The kind of community she was looking for? Maybe. It was too early to tell.

  Grand Street delivered the group into the center of town, where they found themselves facing what was once a park. The tower they had seen earlier was off to the left. Shattered storefronts, piles of rubble, and wrecked vehicles surrounded the square, the exceptions being a library, which looked to be intact; a whitewashed church; and a partially damaged bank.

  Shaw had caught up with them by then. Amy was perched on his shoulders. “Are you sure people live here?”

  “I’m not sure of anything,” Capelli responded. “But yeah! I think people are watching us. Let’s see if I can flush them out.”

  Capelli took a dozen steps forward to ensure that he could be seen from the tower and all of the other structures around the square. The sky was blue and the afternoon air was still. He took a deep breath and shouted as loudly as he could, “I’m a runner—and I’m here to see Terri Locke! If Terri Locke is here, I would like to speak with her on behalf of her brother Alvin.”

  No response. Not even an echo. Or so it seemed until Rowdy began to bark and an elderly man appeared. He was wearing a knit hat and a blue overcoat, and he walked with the aid of a cane. Capelli took hold of Rowdy’s collar as the man drew near. “Hello! My name is Capelli. Joe Capelli. And you are?”

  “Expendable,” the man answered with a grin. “That’s why they send me out to talk with people.”

  Capelli laughed. “Well, you have nothing to fear from us. I’m a runner and I have a package for Terri Locke.”

  The man nodded noncommittally as he turned to Susan and smiled. “Welcome to Haven, my dear. My name is Frank Potter.”

  Susan took the opportunity to introduce both herself and the Shaws. Amy was hiding behind her father but came out when Potter offered her a piece of peppermint candy.

  Capelli watched with interest. Potter might describe himself as “expendable,” but his blue eyes were extremely bright, and they never lingered anywhere for very long. Capelli had the feeling that in a matter of three or four minutes the entire party had been evaluated, inventoried, and categorized. Whatever happened next would depend on Potter’s judgment.

  And that was clearly the case. After a few minutes of seemingly idle chatter Potter turned to Capelli. “Let’s go over to my office and discuss the matter further. Please leave your pack and weapons here.”

  So Capelli shrugged the pack off and gave the pistol, Marksman, and Bullseye to Susan for safekeeping. Then, with Potter at his side, he walked east towards the bank.

  “My grandfather founded it,” the old man explained, “and it has been in the family ever since. It has seen better days, though. Watch your head as you pass through the front door.”

  Capelli had to duck under a sagging support beam in order to follow Potter into a generously proportioned lobby. From there the old man led him past a row of teller’s cages to a damaged door. Broken glass and other bits of debris crunched under Capelli’s boots as they entered an office that was open to sky. Weather had taken quite a toll, but the banker’s huge desk was still there, and a pleasant-looking middle-aged woman was perched on one corner of it. She had brown hair and a full face, and was dressed for a winter day. “I’m Terri Locke,” she said as she stood, and offered a gloved hand.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Capelli said sincerely, as they shook. “My name is Joe Capelli. Alvin hired me to escort him from Burlington, Colorado, to Haven. He said this is a wonderful place to live and it was his intention to settle here.”

  Tears had begun to well up and trickle down Terri’s cheeks. She wiped them away. “He’s dead isn’t he?”

  Capelli nodded soberly. “We were ambushed by a large number of Grims near Colby, Kansas. Al was badly wounded and died a few days later.”

  Terri accepted a handkerchief from Potter and blew her nose. “And you came all the way to Oklahoma to tell me that?”

  “No,” Capelli answered as he unbuckled the money belt. I came to Haven to give you this. I knew Al would want you to have it.”

  Terri accepted the belt, peeked into one of the pockets, and looked up at Capelli. “Gold?” There was a look of consternation on her face.

  “Yes, ma’am. There was more originally. However, I was captured by a group of people who took some of the coins and spent them. But, thanks to the woman who is waiting out in the square, I was able to recover the belt and bring it here.”

  “That’s an amazing story,” Terri said. “And you are an amazing man. Most people would have kept the coins for themselves. I’d like to give you a reward.”

  Capelli shook his head. “No thank you, ma’am. But there is something you could do for me. If you’re willing, that is.”

  Terri’s eyebrows rose. “Really? What’s that?”

  Capelli jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Susan and I are looking for a place to settle down. And Roger and Amy need a place to live too. Is there any chance we could stay here?”

  There was a long moment of silence. Potter was the one who broke it. He was seated in the same chair his father had occupied years before. “I vote yes.”

  Terri smiled. “I’m the mayor, and Frank sits on the city council, so you have two votes. But you’ll need more in order to stay. And folks will want to get acquainted with you and your friends before they take you in. That means a trial period. One in which you will have some but not all the privileges of citizenship. Would you and the others agree to that?”

  “I would,” Capelli answered. “And I think Susan and Roger will as well.”

  “Good,” Terri said genially. “Welcome to Haven.”

  Three weeks passed. The townspeople assumed that Capelli and Susan were a couple. And, since neither of them denied it, they were assigned to what was referred to as a “starter” just off the main north-south tunnel. The so-called starter was really no more than an opportunity to excavate their own underground home. It wasn’t stated in so many words, but both of them knew that if they were invited to stay in Haven it would have a lot to do with how hard they worked on the starter, and for the benefit of the community.

  So Capelli volunteered to help with the community center that was being dug under the town square, and joined the forty-six-person defense force, which was led by a no-nonsense ex-marine named Tig Kosmo. The ex-noncom was suspicious of Capelli at first, but was soon won over by the newcomer’s willingness to follow orders, and understanding of everything military. None of which prevented Kosmo from referring to Capelli as a “doggie,” which was his name for anyone who had served in the Army.

  Susan was invited to participate in the food-gathering parties that ventured out to gather such edibles as were available at that time of year. A task that Terri Locke and many of the community’s women took part in.

  So there was a bit of a stir when Susan asked if she could be a hunter instead. Because as the lead hunter, a cantankerous man named Levi Smith, put it,
“Outside of my momma, I ain’t never seen a woman who could hit the broad side of a barn with a shotgun, and our job is to hunt meat, not excuses.”

  But at Terri’s insistence, Susan was given an opportunity to prove her skill. And when Susan dropped a deer at 650 yards, Smith not only put her on the three-person team, he kicked a man off to make room for her.

  So that, plus Susan’s country-girl skills at everything from sewing to candle-making, won her fans among men and women alike. Meanwhile, it was her expertise at digging tunnels and shoring them up that enabled the twosome to take their “starter” and enlarge it into a relatively spacious twelve-by-sixteen-foot room complete with an eight-foot ceiling, built-in shelving, and a salvaged sink. The starter didn’t have any running water, not yet anyway, but it was furnished with items scrounged from abandoned houses.

  Meanwhile, Capelli thought that his relationship with Susan was going well. They agreed on the important things, were a good team, and had been sleeping together since arriving in Haven. And maybe that was enough. But by then Capelli knew that certain symbols were important to her.

  Still, knowing that and doing something about it were two different things until the day when Kosmo led Capelli and a squad of volunteer fighters into a town about five miles from Haven. The objective was to find and destroy Spinners, their pods, and any stinks that might be in the area. And it was a good thing, too, because after entering the town the team flushed a Spinner out of the local grade school, and killed it.

  Of course, the presence of a Spinner suggested the possibility of pods, so it was necessary to sweep the entire town, and it was while searching the inside of what had been a jewelry store that Capelli found the item he needed.

  The store had clearly been looted more than once. But someone, a thief most likely, had dropped a piece of jewelry on the floor. And none of the people who had passed through during the subsequent months had been fortunate enough to spot it. Not until Capelli came along, a rare ray of sunshine penetrated the nearby window, and the unmistakable glint of silver caught his eye. Capelli bent over, picked the ring up off the floor, and smiled.