To the Barrens (Super Pulse Book 2)

by Dave Conifer

  “Every subcommittee will elect a leader, and that leader will report to the Committee,” Grover said. “Each subcommittee will be given a list of tasks and deadlines. The subcommittee will meet the timeline and get their tasks done, or they will answer to the Committee. If they have a better idea for approaching the problem, it’ll be time to put up or shut up. That’s the way it’s going to be.”

  “What were we just saying about a dictatorship?” Matt whispered.

  “Roethke – I mean, Ted – do you have anything you want to add?” Grover asked.

  Roethke cleared his throat as he made his way to the podium. “First, a little more about the subcommittees,” he said. “We’ve assembled a library for your use. There should be some hard, practical information that’ll be useful for your particular purpose. And spare us the morality lecture, anybody who's thinking about it. Nobody was using these books anyway, so we brought them here. You can find the library by following the signs. The signs say ‘library.’”

  After a smarmy chuckle at his own remark, Roethke continued. “When you return to your rooms, you’ll find a list of who has been assigned to what subcommittee, and what classroom that subcommittee works out of. You should report for your first meeting this afternoon at three o’clock. That's right before dinner. And by the way, don't get your hopes up for dinner. This isn't a five star restaurant, and it's never going to be.”

  Filing out of the meeting, Nick was uncomfortable with how unfamiliar he was with most of the other members. Hopefully that would change quickly. He thought about all the “get to know each other” activities that led off so many seminars and meet-ups. He’d always hated those games, preferring to jump in immediately on the task at hand. But now he was coming to see the value in such exercises.

  On their way back to their rooms after the meeting, Nick quietly pulled Matt away from the group. “We haven’t told anybody about Sarah and Dewey yet, right?”

  “I haven’t,” Matt said. “Other than you, I don’t know who else would have. But it’ll be obvious to them when they don’t show up for their meeting later.”

  “Yeah, sure, but do you think that’s the right way to go about it?” Nick asked. “Maybe it would be better to face the music, and go tell them directly. Now, I mean, before the meetings.” He glanced over to make sure the Helliksons were out of earshot. “I feel like we’re already on thin ice after we forced them to take Tom and Penny and all the kids. Grover and whoever else is in charge are turning out to be tough customers.” He shrugged. “I’m really not sure how to handle it.”

  “True,” Matt answered. “Might be better to be proactive. Want me to come along?”

  "I think I better go it alone," Nick said. "These guys like their secrets. They have a real small circle of trust. I just hope I'm in it."

  ~~~

  Nick wondered how he would find anybody to talk to about it after reversing course and heading back in the direction of the cafeteria, but that turned out not to be a problem. After rounding the corner he saw Roethke and Grover walking quickly up the hallway in the opposite direction. They must have heard his footsteps, because they turned to face him just as reached them at a full trot.

  "If it isn't our resident roofer," Roethke said. "Aren't you late for a Construction meeting?"

  "That’s not until three o’clock,” Nick replied, knowing full well that Roethke was aware of this. “Is that what subcommittee I'm on? I haven't seen the list."

  "So you sprinted up the hall just to say hello," Roethke said. "Why am I so sure we're not so lucky?"

  Someday I'm going to nail this guy with a fist or ten, Nick thought. But now was not the time to be thinking that way. "We had a couple of our people take a quick detour on the way here last night," he began. "I thought I should report it."

  Grover had continued up the corridor, clearly disinterested, but when he heard this bit of news he whirled and returned to where Nick and Roethke were standing.

  "Stop sugar-coating," Roethke said. "Tell me exactly what you're talking about."

  "Sarah and Dewey got off the bus near Medford," Nick said.

  "Full names, please."

  "Sarah McElligott-Cohen and Dewey Bishop."

  "Oh, yes," Roethke said. "She's the hyphened shooter. He's the slacker. Pity we've lost her. Him, not so much."

  "They did this voluntarily?" Grover asked.

  "Yes," Nick said. "Sarah lives nearby. She--"

  "We all live nearby," Roethke said.

  "Dewey Bishop," Grover said, almost as though he was talking to himself. “Henry, right? I believe I removed two slugs from his leg just two days ago. Or was it yesterday?"

  "Yes, that's him," Nick said. "Sarah has this notion that her husband is waiting for her at their house in Medford. I couldn't talk her out of it. I had no idea Dewey was going with her. I doubt that she expected that, either. Before we knew it, he was gone, too."

  "She'd be better off without a wounded man to take care of," Grover said. "But it's not our problem. Not anymore."

  "Especially that wounded man," Roethke echoed. "Easy come, easy go, I always say."

  "Did they take any food or water with them?" Grover asked. "Are they armed?"

  "No on the food and water," Nick replied. "We think she might still have the gun your representative gave her. So at least there's that."

  "Remove them from the subcommittee rosters," Grover told Roethke. "Move anybody around as you see fit, to compensate for this." He turned to go.

  "But this isn't permanent," Nick protested. "She just wanted to look for her husband. Who wouldn't? She'll be back. They know where we are."

  "I doubt if she'll be back," Grover said. "Even if she changes her mind and decides she wants to be here. Don't you know what's going on out there? But even if they survive, even if they make it here, we don't want them. We don't want anybody who's not fully committed. And we definitely don't want people with poor judgment and who behave so unpredictably." He turned to Roethke. "See that they're turned away if they show up at the door. But if they have anything of ours, specifically a weapon, take that from them first."

  "Grover, that's not right," Nick said, advancing on him. Grover's icy stare stopped him in his tracks.

  Roethke rolled his eyes at Nick. "Always the drama queen," he said before catching up with Grover. Dumbfounded, Nick watched the two men until they reached the end of the hallway and disappeared through a doorway. Maybe he should have known better, but he hadn't seen that coming.

  ~~~

  Nick wandered away, neither in the direction Grover and Roethke had gone nor back to his room. He needed to think. He needed -- something. What was crushing him the most at the moment was that the very person that could help him wasn't there. In fact, she had been the very topic of the argument that had him so overwrought. If only he could get outside, get away from everybody for a little while.

  He found himself at the front door, but that looked like a bad idea. There were too many people out there, several of them holding rifles as if they were on guard. Those were the ones who'd soon be instructed to take Sarah's weapon and send her and Dewey back into the dangerous world they'd just survived to get there, he thought bitterly. After moving on, he found a quieter side door around a few corners. A sticker on the handle told him that “Alarm will sound when door opened.” He could only wish that were true.

  He paused long enough to make sure nobody was watching, and then pushed his way out. Across the parking lot were two dumpsters peeking out from a block wall. Perfect, he decided. It would be an ideal hiding place and it somehow suited his mood, he decided as he entered the enclosure. As he found a resting spot with his back against one dumpster and his toes against the other, he wished to God that he'd made one last trip to his basement back home and loaded up on a few bottles of supplies.

  ~~~

  Soon after they returned from the assembly, a woman that none of them had ever seen delivered a single sheet of paper to Matt, who was standing in the hallway outs
ide their room anticipating the visit. He nodded as he took it before dashing back into the room where everybody was waiting. "I'm on Water Supply," he said without looking up from the paper. "That's no surprise. Nick's on Construction."

  "Hey, where is Nick, anyway?" Tom asked. He was sprawled on his back on a cot a few feet away.

  "Good question," Matt answered. "Last I saw he was chasing down the bosses to tell them about Sarah and Dewey. Maybe he's still with them."

  "How about the rest of us?" Tom asked. “Where do we work?”

  "Sarah's on Security," Matt said. "She really made an impression with her shooting, looks like. Tom, you're on Child Care. That's a surprise. I thought you'd be on Security, too, after what you did that night. I guess they figure you're good with kids, since you have so much experience."

  "With this hole in my shoulder, I'll have a hard time keeping up with any kids they put me in charge of," Tom said. "At least for a while. Of course, Security would be even a tougher racket."

  "Dewey is on Food Production. It says ‘hunting’ in parentheses," Matt continued. "That seems odd. Nick told me he’d never hurt a flea. He escorted every little insect out the front door because he didn’t want to hurt it. Not that it matters now."

  "It's a whole new world," Penny said. "We're all going to be learning new stuff. What about me?"

  "You're on Food Production," Matt said. "Ellie, you're not going to like this. You got Sanitation."

  "Eew," Ellie said. "That doesn't sound good."

  "It stinks," Tom said.

  "Ha ha," Ellie answered.

  "How long do we have before the meetings?" Penny asked. "And what about the kids?"

  "The kids go to the Child Care meeting, it says here," Matt answered. "Maybe they can just tag along with Tom. It's in the cafeteria. They must have something planned for them."

  "Jenny ought to be a counselor at Child Care," Penny said. "Right Jen? Tom, make sure you point out that she's not really a kid."

  "Sure, but I think they already know how old everybody is," Tom said.

  "I'm not exactly sure what time it is right now," Matt said. "Dewey had the only watch that worked. I hope Nick makes it back in time."

  "We haven't even had lunch yet," Tom said.

  "I heard somebody say that we don't do lunch around here," Matt said. "Breakfast and dinner only. And Nick doesn't know what his subcommittee is, or where it meets. He needs to get back here to find out from us."

  Five

  Sarah and Dewey had trekked through the dark roads of Medford for the rest of the night, just as Sarah had planned. When sunlight began to show what had happened to the beautiful place she'd lived, she was overcome by a deep sadness. She dismissed the feeling. Sure, it hurt to see it like that, but it wasn't anything different than what Nick and the rest of them must have been feeling about their own neighborhood for the past few months. This was the new world, and there weren't going to be many places that went untouched. Migrating to the least-affected places was the purpose of joining Grover's sect. She tried to keep that in perspective while leaving emotion out of it.

  Were she and Dewey still part of the sect after what they'd done? She didn't know. On the one hand, she was aware that she'd made a great impression with her ability with firearms, despite her lack of enthusiasm for these skills. Those were valuable, and they'd want her around because of them. On the other hand, she knew from everything Nick had told her that Grover was not the kind of man who would take desertion lightly, regardless of the reason. If anybody would turn his back on the value she brought in order to enforce loyalty and obedience, Grover would. And that scared her. Being alone was a bad way to be right now. Maybe she'd made a mistake.

  They were currently hidden behind the tree line along Dixontown Road. On the other side of the road was a single house. They'd successfully passed through the more densely populated area along Main Street while it was still dark. They both felt safer now that they'd reached an area where the population was sparser. Sarah hadn't expected to get so far so fast. She'd either over-estimated the distance or they were moving more quickly than anticipated. The lay of the land was familiar to her. She thought they were no more than an hour’s walk from her home, and a possible reunion with Eli.

  The idea of pushing on despite the coming daylight was appealing to her. Although it had been mostly dark, she felt encouraged that they hadn't seen anybody. On top of that, Dewey's leg was bearing up better than expected, so she thought he could keep going, too. Getting home sooner was, of course, better than later.

  The problem was that they were hurting for food and desperate for water. It wasn't like they could expect a bounty of meat and drink once they reached the house. Her heart told her to push on, but her head overruled. It was time to stop, stay out of sight, and take care of themselves.

  One reason she’d chosen to stop there in the first place was the lingering smell of cooking meat. She’d smelled it for at least a mile, and so had Dewey. There was no reason to suspect it was coming from that house, except that there was nothing else around. The smell was so tantalizing that she sensed an unspoken vow that they were going to check that house out. But for now they needed to watch the place, because the downside of finding food in the house would likely be finding people there as well. They decided to watch for activity before deciding what to do.

  Sarah was lying flat on her back looking at the leaves above and fantasizing about a jug of ice water when Dewey patted her shoulder excitedly. “Someone’s there!” he whispered. She rolled over in time to see two men walking down the front steps. One carried a crossbow. The other had a sack slung over his back. She estimated that the men were in their forties, although it was getting so all men looked the same age with their unkempt, graying beards and shaggy hair. The two men reached the bottom of the steps and walked around to the back of the house, where they disappeared into the woods. It all made sense to Sarah now.

  “Dewey, they’re going hunting,” she whispered. “These woods are full of deer. That must be what we’re smelling. They’re cooking it, probably on some kind of outdoor grill.”

  “Yeah, maybe they’re smoking it,” Dewey said. “Like, that makes it last longer. Matt was telling me about that. Venison. That’s what deer meat is called, I think.”

  “Do you think anybody’s left in the house?” Sarah asked.

  “There’s no way to know,” Dewey answered.

  “It’s still kind of dark,” Sarah said. “I think it’s safe to poke around. I’m going over there to find out.” She stood up with a yawn, then stretched her limbs. Now that she’d had a little down time, she noticed for the first time how tired and sore she was after getting back on her feet. “Hand me the pistol, will you?”

  “What are you going to do?” Dewey asked after handing it over.

  “I’ll just have a look in the windows for now.” Before he could protest, if he was even going to, she set out across the street and took shelter in a stand of bushes beneath the porch rail. She waited there for a few minutes until she was sure nobody inside the house had seen her. Then she walked all the way around the house looking for a way to see inside.

  In back she saw what looked like an oversized grill. There was no smoke at the moment, but the smell was stronger back there. Maybe it was a smoker. Sarah’s hunger intensified now that she was certain that this was the source of the meat smell. Now all she had to do was make sure the house was empty, something that was certainly not guaranteed.

  She eyed a set of wooden steps on the back of the house. There was a plain door with glass panels on the landing. Perfect. She quietly ascended the stairs, took a deep breath, and pressed her face against the window, cupping her hands on the glass to shield her eyes from the glare. Two minutes later she was back across the road in the woods with Dewey.

  “Looks empty,” she reported. “I have mixed feelings about this. I’ve never stolen anything in my life. But we need to not die, you know? I’ll see what they have, and bring it out if I ca
n.”

  “What should I do?” he asked.

  She pulled the gun from the back of her waist band and held it out. “You keep this. If you see anybody, fire it off. Not too many shots, though. They have a bow. They might shoot back. Then, run straight back into the woods. If they follow, you’ll have to use the rest of that magazine to take them out.” She gave him the Glock.

  “I just pull the trigger, right?” he asked. “There’s nothing else to it?”

  “That’s it,” she told him. “Don’t wait too long to shoot if you see them. I’ll need some time to get out of there. It’s more of a signal to me than anything else. Got it?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right back. Hopefully.” She quickly made her way over to the house again, hoping to take advantage of the remaining dawn for cover. This time she twisted the knob on the door after ascending the back steps. It was locked, of course. Why wouldn’t it be? Knowing she’d come too far to turn back, she picked up a ceramic flower pot which held nothing but dirt and a long-dried flower. After a deep breath, she smashed the lower pane of glass with the pot and knocked the hanging shards out of the way. After that it was a simple matter to reach in and turn the knob from the inside, opening the door.

  Once inside, she couldn’t believe her luck. Everything she could possibly have been looking for was right there. At least two-dozen milk jugs filled with water were on the floor beneath a table. On the counter were pyramids of what looked like foot-long hoagies wrapped in paper. The greasy stains on the paper told her all she needed to know. These were rolls of venison, wrapped to go, probably fresh off the smoker she’d seen in the back yard.

  This almost looked like a venison factory, it was so organized. All the better, she thought. They’ll hardly notice what I take. They have enough. The downside was that it appeared that there were a lot of people involved. Certainly more than the two men she and Dewey had seen, at least. Hanging around for too long was a bad idea. She was already working on a plan to carry out as much water and venison as she could when a woman in a shapeless print dress appeared in a doorway.