by Jill Cooper
“I will miss you, Marie.” Victor whispered and turned off the television as a barrage of banging on his door stole his attention.
Just when he was trying to come up with a plan, someone jimmied the handle. “Victor! Damn it, Victor?”
He sighed and adjusted the collar of his shirt before unlocking the door. Peering through the crack he saw Jeff Monroe, puffing out his cheeks and his face reddened as he sucked on his bottom lip. “What’s this about?” Victor asked as the door slammed open.
Jeff squeezed Victor’s throat and throttled him against the far wall. Victor yelped, trying to pry Jeff’s hands off his neck. “She was just a baby! What did you tell her? What!?”
Victor fell to his knees, gasping for breath as others rushed in and forced themselves between them. He coughed, rubbing at his neck, and held out a hand to stop the barrage of questions that came hard and fast from the others.
Jeff fought against the restraint of the others. “Jake went there to make peace and you couldn’t stand it, could you? Could you!?” He screamed, fighting to get his hands on him. “Let me go!”
Victor stood and coughed into his fist. “I assure you, whatever that has transpired in the capital is not of my doing. Not my fault, but it may be for the best.”
“The best!?” Jeff gritted his teeth. “We’re all going to be outed. There’s going to be nowhere safe for any of us anymore.”
“Jake did that himself.” Victor argued. “The moment he went to the senator, our time was quietly ticking by. Jake would have us neutered. Bowing to those that are weaker than us.”
Jeff shook his head, sucking in his breath. “He sees a world where we can work together.”
“Yes.” Victor rewound the footage on the television to highlight the protestor’s signs. “Monsters. Animals. They would rather have us dead, do you all see that? They want nothing to do with us and they don’t want us to live, especially when they are reminded of who we are. What we are. We are an inconvenience, my comrades.”
Meghan stood forward and shook her head. “She was just a girl. You had no right to fill her head…”
Victor shot her a dark, dangerous glower. “She was the only one here besides me who saw through the bull. Marie knew Jake would never move against the humans. He has too much love for them. But now, when the humans come, when they declare war on us, we’ll have no choice but to defend ourselves. And Jake will be forced to see.”
“See what?” Meghan asked.
“That I am right, of course. That it’s time we rise up and take our rightful place at the front of the pack.” His eyes glazed past all the fearful faces, the eyes who were open and searching for answers. “It’s time we stop living in fear.”
“How?” Jeff demanded to know.
“By bringing the US to its knees.” Victor made a tight fist.
“We can do that?” One asked. “How can we do that? There’s less than a hundred of us on the outside.”
For now, he was right. “But look where we are, friends. We’re in a rural farming municipality. We control the one thing the country needs to survive.”
Jeff swallowed hard and the fear in his eyes turned to clarity. “Food.”
Victor sighed with relief. He touched Jeff’s chin. “I knew you’d come around.”
Jeff shook his head and his eyes squeezed shut like he thought of something horrible. “We can’t…everyone will starve.”
Victor nodded his head to Herman. “Take Jeff and see him to his room, would you? The rest of us have plans to make.”
*****
Swift Current was a ghost town when Mark drove his pickup through. He didn’t see a single light on in a house or a person outside. The driveways were vacant like the citizens had fled and left for greener pastures. But Mark knew these people better. They would never run. When the chips were down, they would get together and come up with a plan.
So he headed west toward what was once the outskirts of town. Overlooking the blowing wheat of the prairie and the rolling hills was an old building that once was used as a church. It was a grand building, with a large steeple with reflective windows. Years had passed since the Alliance Church was in daily use and its edges were crumbling and weeds had overtaken the parking lot.
But it was full of cars just as Mark suspected. When chips were down, when times were tough, the town would gather together and come up with a plan. They were a community, filled with pride when it came to helping each other. It always made Mark happy his family settled here, but now as he cut his engine and searched for strength, he grew fearful.
What if his family was labeled a traitor? What if they ended up on their own?
His baseball hat in his hand, Mark headed inside. He let the big old metal door shut lightly behind him. His fingers touched the scratches and indents from decades passed when townsmen had locked themselves inside. Hiding inside from the glistening who fought to kill, maim, and eat those inside. Bravely, the men fought to keep the doors closed to them, women, and children.
They won that day and it was proof that Saskatchewan people had a strong constitution. The war was over, or so they thought and it seemed now their prairie was the start of a new war. A new battlefront.
Mark wanted no part in it.
He shuffled over to the main sanctuary and there were dozens of hushed voices speaking at once. The mayor, Greg Musket, was up at the podium, gavel in hand. He gave it a few good bangs to bring order to the meeting. “Now, hush up people. This isn’t making it any better. We need to discuss what we know. And what the hell we’re going to do.”
“There are glistenings living among us. We know who they are and where they are. What’s to discuss?”
“We need to get them to leave. I don’t want them here! I don’t care why they’re here. I don’t care how nice they pretend to be. I have kids and I’ll be damned…”
“How do we get them to leave? Ask nicely? C’mon, they’re glistenings. They can shoot fire out their eyes!”
“I read once they eat their young as part of some sort of ritual.”
Mark took a deep breath, folding the rim of his hat. He put it on his head, held his breath and stepped out behind the wall and walked down the aisle. The crowd fell silent and all eyes were on him like he was some sort of blushing bride. Their heads followed him and no one spoke or said a word as he stepped up to the pulpit.
The mayor nodded and extended his hand to him. Mark gave it a firm handshake and Greg slapped him on the back. “I hope you can make some sense of this, Mark. It’s a clusterfuck.”
Wasn’t that the truth?
When Greg gave him the nod, Mark addressed the hall, all waiting for him to say something. He had trouble looking at their faces, felt like he forced this upon his friends; his family. Instead he kept his eyes level with the podium. “Most of you know me, I’m Mark Nuefeld of the Nuefeld family farm. My family’s been Saskachewan farmers for generations and God be with me, will continue to do so.” Mark took a deep breath. “I’m shocked, just as you all are about this turn of events. I thought Nick was a good guy, just like us.”
Greg clasped his shoulder. “You were fooled, as we all were.”
Mark breathed a sigh of relief that at least someone understood. “We broke bread with Nick. He helped me when we went through a rough time. Now I don’t know what his intentions were. If he was manipulating me or not.” Mark’s mind drifted to all the early morning sunsets they had worked through because of harvest. Of working until the sun had set and how Nick never complained, never asked for anything.
His heart was panged with guilt, but he pushed on. “I know I vouched for him. Helped him secure land. For that, I’m sorry. I am here now to pledge my support to the community. To Saskachewan. I won’t turn my back on you.”
Mark glanced up as applause broke out. A few people stood up, but there were a few who refused to rise. They sat with their arms crossed, the contempt in their eyes boring holes through his skin, into his soul. But Mark couldn’t be conce
rned with them. He had enough on his side to keep his family safe. That was what mattered the most. Maybe the glistenings just wanted to live in peace, maybe they didn’t, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t align himself with them.
People returned to their seats and another stood. It was Mark’s own farm hand, the one who harassed Liz time and time again. Mark knew he should have gotten rid of that boy long before now. “You expect us all to believe that, Mr. Nuefeld? That you, that Lizzie, didn’t know he was a glistening?”
Mark’s chest puffed up. “Of course I didn’t, son. You know I would never side with a glistening. They’re monsters.”
“Which is why you ate dinner with him? Gave him supplies, right? Supplies other farmers could have used.”
A gasp collected in the front pew. Mark took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “I was repaying a favor. I didn’t know…”
Charles’ eyes glinted. “And your girl, Lizzie? Did she know? I saw those two at the café shop just a few days ago. Hanging out. Looking chummy. His dirty rotten hands all over her.”
“You’re lying. Nick would never…” Mark’s words trailed off as he realized what he was going to say. Who he was going to defend.
Charles snorted. “See you can’t go five minutes without defending him. You liked him.” His tongue ran out across his lips. “And who’s to say, a few favors here and there…you wouldn’t pick his kind over us. Hell, you make me eat in the kitchen like a damn dog, but you always invited the boy in, didn’t you?”
“If we knew.” Mark turned his head to the mayor, but Greg’s eyes were less than convinced. “If Liz knew, she’d never…She’s just a kid. What’s she know?”
“I bet she knew.” Charles said. “I saw the way she looked at him. Like she was ready to rip off his clothes. And the way he talked to me. Well, it was clear he thought he was better than me. He treated her like a possession. You shouda seen it. All of you.”
“Liz wouldn’t stand for that. You’re making this up!” Mark grabbed the scruff of Charles’ shirt and Charles guffawed ‘Har-Har-Har’ like it was the funniest thing he had heard. Mark made a fist and coiled his fist back.
He stopped himself when a girl stood up from the pew. She was one of Liz’s friends from School, Marcy. She raised her hand timidly, like she was in class. “Actually, Mr. Nuefeld, Liz told me a few days ago…how much she liked Nick. How they had this big talk before he left. And they kissed, Sir. What if…what if she did know?”
His heart raced and his head pounded. What they were saying couldn’t be true. “Just because they talked or kissed…”
Everyone started shouting at once. Inside, Mark was shaking and overcome with rage and the urge to rush home, grab his family and run. If Liz knew…God, he had to hope she didn’t. She was a good kid. There was no way that she could keep something like that secret. Mark saw the look on her face in the kitchen. Liz was floored, just like the rest of them.
But Mark saw their angry faces, he had to find a way to make them understand. But was it even possible? He might as well have tried to make a case for the bogeyman.
Greg held up his hands. “Settle down everyone. Settle down. The Nuefelds are as Saskatchewan as wheat. We need calm heads to prevail, folks.”
“Mark helped them buy the property. It’s his fault they’re still here!”
“And what are we going to do about it, huh? How are we going to get rid of them before they get rid of us?”
“We put it to a vote as we do everything.” Greg sighed and tugged on the belt hoops of his jeans. “Two distinct options. We can handle this ourselves or alert the US government and they’ll send someone, or many someones, to handle it for us.”
A hush fell over the room. “But we’ve always said we handle things ourselves.”
“We don’t want the Americans here!”
“We’re Canadians, not Americans! If they come here, they may never leave!”
Mark had to agree. They were a territory and on their own for the most part. They had their own police, more like a militia. Saskatchewan handled their own problems which gave them freedom, unlike the poor suckers in the east and look what that left them—unable to make their own decisions, bowing to US law.
“They’ll also have more support. Bigger weapons. Tanks, planes, whatever is necessary to apprehend the glistenings or at worse…kill them. We can call them and wash our hands of it. And most likely we’ll be safe.”
“Most likely?” A voice shouted from the middle pews.
“Or,” Greg cleared his throat. “We can go there with what we have with the sheriff’s office. Give them one chance to clear out. If this Nick—Jake kid is right, they want to be left alone in peace. They’ll move on if that peace is threatened.”
“And if he’s wrong? Lying? We can’t fight off a bunch of glistenings!”
Greg’s bottom lip turned out as he surveyed the group. “Those are our only two options, friends. Personally I want my kids to grow up safe, free. My heart lies with this great land. I don’t want the US muddling it up either. But if we can’t get the glistenings to leave, I say that leaves us with only one option.”
“Now,” Greg’s voice boomed and was filled with authority. Aggression filled his eyes. “Yay we handle this ourselves. Tonight. Nay, we contact the authorities and we sit back and watch. Let’s not forget, friends, this is our land. Our family. Our crops.”
A chorus of yays came up from the pews, like a worship song. Full of harmony, conviction. Mark stared down at his shoes, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what was the best way to vote. He didn’t want to face the glistenings, they were former friends, but he wanted to vote with his fellow farmers. His community.
Greg looked to him. “How do you vote, Mark?” Greg said.
His throat was tied up and he was barely able to speak. “Yay.” He muttered softly, cleared the lump in his throat and repeated it only louder.
Greg clamped his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Then tonight we move. As their friend, someone who helped them settle on the old Brisbee Farm, do you think you can lead us there? Get them out to talk to us if we promise no violence?”
Anger erupted from the crowd. Fist pumping, screaming with glares of indigination at the suggestion. Greg narrowed his eyes and called for calm. “We will go prepared. But we need to try for peace. We have no political stance on what is going on in the US. We just want to be left alone, and if we can do that without anyone getting hurt…”
Mark nodded even as his heart told him it was the wrong thing to do, but he had to secure a future for his family. And there was no future if he sided with the glistenings. “I’ll do what I can. Nick’s father is a friend. He can be made to understand.”
Greg nodded and banged his gavel on the podium. “Good. Then we have things to plan for. Now, the next order of business….”
Chapter Seventeen Jake
Jake’s eyes snapped open. His lungs filled with breath and he quickly sat up, looking around the room.
A spacious bedroom decorated in dark greens and browns. Was he back at Rebecca Seers’ house? Or was he somewhere else? He couldn’t remember anything after being rushed from the capitol building.
He tugged on his hair with both hands, shoulders rounded, and Jake took a deep, labored sigh. His heart pounded and then he remembered. His body screamed in pain and his mind flashed to an explosion. Shards of metal, clothing and people threw him back. He remembered Dirk grabbing him and forcing him to safety inside a van.
But Marie…
Marie.
Tears filled his eyes. “Damn you, Marie.” He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to stop the images from coming. Jake would give anything not to remember.
Marie’s face was lost in a fireball and while he didn’t witness her body being torn to shreds, that must have been what happened.
There was no room inside his heart for anything but deep rooted anger. How dare she do this? How dare she leave him just when Jake needed her more than any
thing? Glistenings did not need an act of war. Marie, his baby sister, was wrong. But this time, Jake couldn’t fix her mistake. He couldn’t argue with her.
She was gone.
Jake smashed his fists against his eyes, fighting strings of tears. He flopped back onto the bed, smashing his head into the pillow. Any hope of peace was gone. There was no way he could broker any resolution now thanks to Marie. Thanks to damn Victor.
No one had to tell him Victor put his sister up to this. She never would have come up with a violent plan on her own. Damn you, Victor.
When he got out of there, wherever he was, the first thing Jake was going to do was find Victor and kill him. He wouldn’t even need to turn into a glistening to do it. He would do it with his own bare hands. Jake would squeeze until Victor’s eyeballs popped out and then he’d stop, just so he could do it again.
“Arggg!” Jake screamed and smashed his fist into the mahogany end table. Over and over…he couldn’t stop. His anger was getting away from him. His skin was glistening and turning blue.
Then the door to the room was unlocked and someone came in.
Jake didn’t look, he kept his head toward the window. The green drapes were so dark he couldn’t tell if it was morning any longer or if it was night time. His fist released and slowly, his blue skin returned to peach.
He heard someone sit down beside him. When he turned he saw Dirk. He had no opinion about Dirk one way or another. It was Jenna for some reason that had his loyalty, just like he had hers. Didn’t know why it was that way. It was just the way it was. When he looked in her eyes, Jake saw something he recognized. Saw someone he’d call friend under different circumstances.
He had no qualms with Dirk, other than the obvious; he was raising his son. Travis was Jake’s, but Dirk was dad. It was the kind of thing that was enough to drive you mad.
But, Dirk’s eyes were compassionate. “I’m sorry,” Dirk said and there wasn’t a trace of insincerity in his voice or on his face. His eyes were wet like he had been crying. What would make a strong guy like that cry?