Father had never been tempted to take another wife. Women in the community recognized him as a potential mate for themselves, their sisters and even their daughters. He was encouraged by other men. He said it wasn’t in him, and when the community declared their mother dead, he became and stayed a widower.
The community was led by a man and woman that survived the plagues as one of the very few existing pre-plague couples. They gathered people to them like a garden attracts life.
Early on the community began practicing polygamy under the guidance of this kind octogenarian with a long beard and a longer staff. It was not a religious practice as much as a practical one. A woman was beaten to death by her husband, a match made when her first choice was married to another. The leader’s wife spoke up, noting that in this new world some men were better suited to be husbands and fathers than others and that women or their children should not be forced into accepting men that could not, or would not, provide them a safe and loving home. It being a small community, and the elderly couple being well respected, the discussion was short. Once it was decided that first wives had to agree, and no woman would be forced to accept polygamy, and that a woman must be old enough to make that decision on her own, the practice was reluctantly accepted.
The sister of the beating victim had stuck a knife in her brother-in-law’s chest. It had been ruled a justifiable act. She had been living unwed, with her sister and her sister’s husband, and now stood up and in a loud clear voice proposed marriage to a man and his wife that had no inkling of her interest. The man, startled, looked to his wife. His wife made the decision. There were two other proposals over the next week, including a woman that was married to a man that drank too much and a woman that had been cheated on. Three marriages in a week, it was a good start.
It was becoming a custom to wed couples under the spreading branches of the huge tree in front of the old city office building. A new kind of ceremony, developed under the many limbs, somehow seemed appropriate.
As the population grew, accidents and disease took their toll. Situations changed, circumstances evolved, wanderers found them and decided to stay.
Lecti was fourteen when the old leader died shortly after his wife. A wanderer with a wise demeanor and an aura of gentle kindness led the group through their mourning and soon began gathering support among the men without wives. Within a year, after some unusual deaths, several of these men had forced marriages, including some younger girls formerly considered too young to wed.
Lecti was gathering unwanted attention. While she had crushes on young men of her own age, her father noticed the glances she elicited from the older men.
On a warm summer night her father explained to her what was happening and explained his plan to keep her safe. She was almost sixteen and Deo was already thirteen. They would be leaving immediately. Their backpacks were already waiting.
Leaving seemed so uneventful, so easy. They did not know about the sniper that had been in position since soon after the change in leadership. It was obvious that their father was dead when they started running.
“Hey, Sis!” Deo woke her from her reverie. “Look, the intersection ahead means we’re almost to the top of the pass. I’m worried about Toshi. We need to catch up.”
Lecti was surprised they hadn’t caught up with her already. She looked back. It would be just like Toshi to hide along the trail and come up behind them after making them apprehensive.
“Look, you know she’s using you, and she’ll throw you away whenever it suits her.” Lecti told Deo.
“I love her.” This raised an eyebrow. Deo had never told her that. “And she’s really trying to be your friend. She likes you, you know.”
“Yea, you would think that because you can’t see how she works, but I can, and you need to wake up and see what she’s really doing.”
Deo gave her a look, half dangerous and angry, half pitiful and sorry. “Don’t say that. I don’t want you to talk about her that way.” He almost sounded ready to cry. “If you’d ever felt the way I do you would understand.”
Lecti didn’t want to see Deo hurt, and she could either let Toshi hurt him or hurt him herself with very little chance of changing his mind and opening his eyes. Her worst fear was that Toshi would separate them somehow and then lead Deo away from her. It would be easier if Deo were angry. Easier still if he thought he was in love.
“You’re my little brother, I have to protect you, but you’re making it very hard. Please, please, think about how she treats you, and ask yourself if you would treat her that way. I love you, little brother. If you decide to stay with her, I’m with you too.” Lecti used a conciliatory tone, “Just remember, if you need to talk, I’m here for you.”
She gave Deo a hug, which he seemed to accept. “Love you, bro.”
Toshi had stayed ahead of them all the way to the pass. She sat on a rock in the shade, shoes off and picking at her toes, waiting for them. Her pack and the skateboard had been thrown on the pavement to sit in the sun. She smiled as they approached, standing up and picking the shorts out of her ass.
“Yo, ‘bout time you got here! The road looks good!” she yelled.
Apparently she was over her snit, but underlying her smile was a coolness that chilled Lecti.
Toshi eyed them both intently as they got close. Seeing the look in their eyes she knew they had been talking about her. Lecti was still being difficult, but Toshi imagined herself to be a patient person and willed herself to be nice. She must not be upset in front of Deo. She would wait her chance. Soon she would either take Deo for her own and get rid of Lecti or just lose them both and move on to better things.
As Lecti approached, she criticized Toshi for leaving them behind.
Toshi snapped, “Get over yourself, Lecti. I’ll do as I please, and you know it.”
The façade that Toshi had projected was cracking, and Lecti took advantage. “Well you sure seem to be in a mood.”
“I don’t Tra-la-la when I feel like crap,” fumed Toshi with an evil look.
Deo came between them, “Calm down. You guys will argue over anything.” He pointed ahead. “Why don’t we take a look at this hill? C’mon.”
The topic of discussion became the condition of the road. It looked great. It was a solid, smooth surface with very little debris. Some drifted or washed sand along the edges could mean some weaving might be necessary but as far as they could see, nothing large or dangerous. It was a long way to the bottom, however, and they could not see beyond the first curve.
“Look,” Lecti said, “not too fast and watch ahead. If you can’t see far enough ahead, then slow down.”
“Sounds good to me,” simpered Toshi, “I’d just as soon get down in one piece. Deo, you go first.”
“Yeah, fun!” Deo was all too ready.
“No, Deo goes last in case he needs to help us if we get in trouble,” vetoed Lecti. “Besides, I don’t want him to leave us behind.”
“Well then, I’ll go first,” said Toshi. “Try to keep up.”
She sat on her board, her pack in front between her legs, ready to use her feet as brakes. Putting her feet up on the board and pushing with her arms, she was off.
Lecti was surprised and didn’t want to get left too far behind. Despite her feelings about Toshi, she did not want to see her get hurt.
Hurrying, she sat on her board and pushed off just as Toshi rounded the curve, out of sight. She could hear Deo close behind her.
Catching up with Toshi was easy. She was cautious but fast enough to have fun. A couple of abandoned cars, a tree across their path, and a gully cut through the road. Minor stuff in Lecti’s mind and she was relieved by the easy distance they covered. If it had not involved a grueling hike back to the top, she would have done it again, and even faster.
Deo passed her when they could see the bottom, and the look on his face said it all.
A couple of skateboards abandoned in the sagebrush attested to the idea having been tried already. The
ir boards joined the others, and with packs slung over shoulders, they approached Carson City.
Chapter 3
Carson City, Nevada, had grown to just under two hundred thousand souls when the plagues hit. The valley filled, and as it overflowed with people, the outlying areas of Moundhouse, Washoe Valley, and the south Carson Valley either industrialized or filled with cardboard shanties just as other towns had.
The state capitol had a good number of emergency procedures in place and the equipment to back them up. Hazmat suits were the only real defense against airborne contagion, but they only helped if a problem was recognized. The first plague operated unusually. It infected and lay dormant for months while still being incredibly contagious. Within weeks, everyone who was going to be infected was infected. Those tainted began to die suddenly with few symptoms or warning. Then the other plagues hit. Some communities had greater numbers of survivors by percentage, others less. Roseburg, Oregon, had over ninety that lived, even though it was a smaller community than Carson. Baltimore, a city that had grown into being a large part of the East Coast Metroplex, had none. In Carson City the number was twelve. By percentage, a typical outcome. What followed was typical as well.
Of the four adults, two committed suicide within a month. Two of the remaining eight were teenagers. One took a motorcycle and all the food he could carry and headed north to Reno, then east on I-80. He had mechanical problems and died in the desert. Of the six children, two were killed by the other teenager as they played in the street. He was racing through side streets in a beautifully restored Hemi Cuda. That evening he drowned when he passed out in a swimming pool after chugging a bottle of expensive scotch.
Of the remaining two adults, one was a woman that seemed to be able to function despite the horror. She was lucky to find and eventually gather the four remaining children to her. After moving them all into a cozy house close to a grocery store, she started to raise them as her own. She made sure they all had chores and lessons and tried to teach them to be self-sufficient and independent. She failed one night when she forgot to turn off the stove before she went to bed.
The remaining adult was named Hal, a thirty-eight year old man with thin hair, glasses, and a checkered past. Petty crimes involving larceny and more serious crimes involving arson and child pornography were part of his police file.
When he saw the big smoke of a fire he naturally gravitated toward it. He was enjoying the show when a toddler with soot covering her face grasped his pant leg, startling him. When he leaned down to wipe the soot off with his thumb he discovered her skin was just as dark.
From that moment until Lecti, Deo, and Toshi entered town twenty years later, the indigenous population of Carson City was two. The end result of the plagues was that within a year of the last disease-caused deaths, after suicide and sudden accidents decimated the remaining survivors, on average there was just over one person remaining for every one hundred thousand souls in the pre-plague world.
§
The city looked like others Deo had seen. Ever since his and Lecti’s father had died in Roseburg, Oregon, they had traveled and seen enough that the condition of an abandoned town didn’t surprise him. Roseburg had a significant population that survived the plagues and attracted others from among the survivors that drifted through. The other cities and towns they encountered had very few survivors and sometimes none at all, so the common appearance of any town became one of disrepair and abandonment.
As Deo surveyed the road into Carson, he was on alert. He knew Lecti was scanning the buildings and any obstacles for signs of movement. He had learned from his father to be cautious but did not understand the deadly importance until they were on the road themselves. Now he moved up to the front in order to put himself between the women and any threat. At the same time he kept track of any shelter he could dive behind should it be necessary. The light rifle he carried was loaded, and his finger was on the safety.
When her brother moved forward, Lecti didn’t object. She knew what he was doing to protect them and knew that any serious threat would just as likely take out the people in the rear first. Still, she appreciated his thoughtfulness and admired the way he had grown up on their journey.
Danger was the last thing on Toshi’s mind. She was hoping to find a distraction from the boredom of the road. Entertainment being the priority, she stuck to the sides of the road most likely to contain buildings in good repair, hoping to find something interesting and maybe even signs of people. She almost missed the faded spray paint on the inside of the storefront window she was passing.
“Store open,” it proclaimed, and underneath, “north thru town.”
There was no reason to hurry. They had seen other signs that led to disappointments and even danger.
Main Street turned north off the ancient freeway as soon as they reached the lower elevations. There was no parking on Main, so cover was scarce. Most storefronts were looted as well.
After peering in a few windows and opening a few doors, Toshi suggested they move one street up toward the foothills. Her motivation was to find more interesting attractions. Lecti and Deo were glad to oblige her so that they would have better cover with more vehicles parked along the sides of the road.
The wood sculpture gallery was bypassed without interest because the huge pieces, so painstakingly fashioned and intricately carved, had been chain-sawed and hauled off for firewood. The grocery was looted thoroughly, the canned and dried products hauled off, remnants of fresh produce lay as dry and brittle husks in their cases.
Lecti noted the lack of product on the shelves.
“There might be a population here. The shelves are too bare to be scavenged by travelers like us.”
Deo had noticed something, and he had a different take on the missing goods. “Yeah, but look here, the smoked oysters and mustard sardines haven’t been touched, but the rest of the canned fish is gone. A bunch of people would have taken everything because there would be different tastes, but this looks like somebody didn’t like oysters. I think that someone took everything to set up that store…you know, the one on the sign we saw.”
Lecti was impressed. It was something that she had missed, and it made sense.
Toshi hadn’t joined the conversation, but as she moved among the aisles away from her companions she sang her strange little melody. She was betting on people.
Attached to the old grocery was a small sporting goods store. Deo looked longingly at the kayaks. Lecti looked for a new sleeping bag with no success. A winter hat with several tasseled balls hanging on long, knit dangles caught Toshi’s eye. She wore it out of the store, but by the time they reached the street again, she dropped it on the ground mumbling that it was too hot.
Next, a casino held no interest and was bypassed. So were the car dealerships. A magnificent tree, the rare survivor of a garden center, was casting a cool shade on local grasses that had repopulated the area. The heat of the day had sapped enough energy that all three felt a nap was a good idea. They lay among the surviving garden sculptures and snoozed a good portion of the early afternoon away.
Lecti slept lightly. She was wary in strange surroundings and was expecting to wake to Deo and Toshi off doing their usual.
When Toshi started to snore in a serious way, Lecti quit dozing and decided to scout around.
A cow path cut through the garden center, meandering between obstacles, always taking the path of least resistance. Lecti knew that the trail would lead to water, and dodging fresh cow flops, she made her way downhill along it. Soon it crested the old roadbed above a swampy area, full of cattails and reeds and dark water.
Across the swampy area, a museum housing restored steam locomotives and railcars remained fairly intact. What appeared to be a parts area full of time- and weather-wrecked railroad equipment lay to the north of the wet spot and would afford access to the restored trains. This would be a good place to spend the night after offering some interesting entertainment.
Returning q
uickly, Lecti found Toshi sitting on a stone bench beneath another tree close to the cow path.
“So,” she said softly, eyeing Lecti, “what’s ahead?”
“Swampy area, kinda small but might have fish, and a cool kinda place full of old trains. It’ll be fun to explore. Looks like the cows will probably come down for water there, too. If we could make some noise, I’d say let’s eat meat tonight.”
“I’m all for that. I’m tired of this crap we scavenge.”
Lecti looked thoughtful. “Yea, but I’m not real comfortable with gunfire in town. Don’t know who might be listening.”
“Oh, Jeez,” Toshi said with a disgusted look and a roll of her eyes. “You’re not gonna be that way, are ya? We haven’t had meat since forever, and if I get a chance to, I’ll take my shot and take my chances too.”
Lecti paused, looking directly into Toshi’s eyes. Toshi knew she was being stared down and let Lecti have the win. She would wait her chance.
When Toshi lowered her gaze, Lecti spoke, “You aren’t the only one here. If you shoot that gun you put us all in danger. Please, Toshi, let’s be safe.”
Toshi shrugged her shoulders and without looking at Lecti, mumbled under her breath, “We’ll see.”
“C’mon, let’s get Deo. You’re gonna want to see this place. And if we can we’ll catch fish.”
Deo was sleeping with his mouth open and a big fly crawling across his lip. He woke reluctantly as usual. Hearing about the trains interested him and got him motivated, and he was ready to go quickly.
The swampy pond held their interest first since they had to skirt it as they approached the museum. It was small and thick with water plants. With no sign of fish, they decided to not waste time making a fish trap much less try to fish with lines.
A broken door provided access to the museum. Dust lay heavy on display cases, some of which were broken, the contents either missing or scattered on the floor. They wiped the dust in smears from the intact ones in order to peer inside. The huge black locomotives with all their brass and exposed mechanics were fascinating to Deo in particular. The restorations were meticulous and had lasted well in this giant sealed hall.
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