The vehicle disappeared into the distance. Joanna waited until all was quiet, then helped the boy up again. She bent low and allowed him to climb onto her back. In the sky above a V of geese flew over, honking loudly as they made their way towards the afternoon sun.
They followed their direction in the hopes of finding the roads again and getting her bearings. It was tough enough trying to find somewhere based off a child’s directions, let alone finding yourself waylaid by bastards with working motors.
It was a tough world out there, for sure.
When the crops finished, and they found the road, she tentatively stepped out and felt the packed earth beneath her worn Nike trainers. She looked as far left and right as she could, studying the small gatherings of trees, the dips and rolls in the rural countryside for any sign of the vehicle. The coast was clear.
“Come on, Sunny. We’re good—”
She turned around and just managed to hold in her scream. A boy, not much into double figures, had Sunny’s head locked in the crook of his arm, a wide bat decorated with nails hanging from the hand on his side. There was a shuffling in the crops as an old man with a wicked grin stepped out and patted Sunny’s back.
“Gotcha.”
~ 1 ~
The morning dew was fresh on the grass and glistened all around him. With each breath, a fine mist billowed out from his mouth and separated into strings of nothing against the morning light. The sun was brimming its face over the horizon now and lighting up the trampled path leaving golden streamers of light striping the ground ahead.
Colin clicked off the wind-up flashlight and threw it into his canvas duffle bag where it cosied up and clinked against the other tools and tat that Colin had built up over the years. No need for that now. He needed to conserve power wherever he could. Even the toys you’d buy for kids – wind-up torches for camping and the like – were like gold dust now.
He blew into the holes in his gloves to try and warm his hands. Sure, the sun was out, but it was still icy cold. As it always seemed to be. Colin could hardly even remember summer anymore. Not a true summer like before. He’d lived through what felt like eight years of continuous autumns and winters. Rain most days and overcast on the others. As if the world itself had lost the will to smile.
Maybe on some level, it had.
But yet, still, the grass and the leaves and the greenery of the world grew and flowered, so maybe he just hadn’t been paying attention. Too distracted by his own thoughts to notice. After all, what exactly would he do with a summer now? A two-week trip to Ibiza was off the cards. A weekend around Europe drinking German ales was nothing but a pipe dream, and hell if he was ever going to climb Kilimanjaro. The last time he’d seen a plane he’d rubbed his cleanly shaven face and cried.
He idly stroked his ragged beard as Wheat streaked past his legs, disappearing between the trunks of trees.
In a flash of memory he remembered what it was like. Sitting on the beach, digging his toes into the warm sand, letting it fill the crevices between, as he closed his eyes and aimed his face at the sun. A cold fruity ice lolly in his hand. The sticky melting juice of it dripping down the wooden stick and onto his fingers.
For a second he could almost taste it, his tongue teasing his dry lips. But then he opened his eyes and it was all so distant again. A world from another life. Half-remembered from some other man’s dreams. He stepped onward, off the grass, and onto an old dirt path that led up through a tunnel of trees. This was the furthest he’d ever get from the farm. The furthest point of his patrol. The last of his duties for that morning.
Planting boot after boot, he walked through the thicket of trees. The sunlight cut into the tunnel, blinding his eyes, trapping him inside a zoetrope. He held his free hands up to block the worst of it, allowing the rifle and the duffle bag to hang loosely behind him.
When he saw the movement ahead, he stopped. It was a little brown creature alternating its legs as it burrowed into the ground.
Colin didn’t lift his rifle. He didn’t need to. Instead, he whipped off his glove, popped two fingers into his mouth, and whistled two quick bursts.
The creature lifted its head and looked to Colin. Its eyes were wide and excited. Its tail flapped from left to right. The thing barked.
“Dammit, Wheat. Shush!”
Colin had almost been excited at the prospect of a companion when he’d begun his patrols for the LeShards. Maybe even figured that a golden retriever would make for a pretty decent working dog. But boy was he wrong. What Wheat had done for the LeShards as a family pet, he had failed to do as a guard dog. He was made for gentle companionship. Built for fetching toys and making cute faces. He was a dog that only understood the most basic of commands. And that was only when he wasn’t barking with excitement and rolling around in fox crap. But still, regardless of breed or temperament, dogs did make for great rot-detectors. Even Wheat.
Still, Colin wondered, when was the last time they’d even seen a rotter?
Wheat approached and brushed his snout into Colin’s calloused palm. It was cold and wet and dirtied from the hole he’d been digging. His big brown eyes looked up at him lovingly as his tail wagged left to right.
“Come on,” Colin sighed, “we’re nearly there.”
As they reached the end of the woods they came to a clearing on a small hillock. He looked out at the view, taking a deep breath of clean country air.
It was for this view that Colin found the motivation to make his patrols each day. With the clearing of the woods behind he was given a perfect landscape view of the patchwork of fields, bathed in the glow of sunrise. In the distance, he could see where the hill sloped down towards the Redhill estates. The abandoned construction site that looked set to become some kind of idyllic suburban paradise.
Colin could picture it now. Neat little tarmac roads connecting squared-off gardens and freshly constructed houses. The sun beating down as kids played and laughed, their mothers watching and shaking their heads as their dads squirted them with the hose, ruining their Sunday bests.
Gone now. Forever abandoned.
The property developers must have only gotten halfway through construction when the rot struck, leaving the estates to stand as nothing but excavated soil and bare inner walls of houses. The structures were there, sure, but the roads were yet to be laid, the windows yet to be fitted, and the gardens yet to be planted. It looked to Colin like a promise never kept, a dirty graveyard with blank limestone gravestones and blank epitaphs.
He reached into his duffel bag and pulled out the binoculars as Wheat took a seat on top of his toes, panting loudly.
Running his finger over the red lens to wipe away the build-up of dust he put them up to his eyes and looked down at the empty construction site. Though they weren’t professional by any measure, they were good enough to get him a closer view. Out of his entire patrol route, this was the area that gave him the most concern. The Redhill estates were a perfect place for a camp of nomads or scavvies to set themselves up – high walls and a place to lay their heads. That was about all they required. And with the farm so close it wouldn’t take long for potential squatters to discover the farm and come for their rations.
Colin felt himself grow angry at the thought. The idea of another chance encounter with scavvies was enough to bring back a bubble of memories – dark ink etched onto faces, hungry looks in cold eyes, a knife to his throat.
Wheat whined as he lay down next to Colin, propping his paw on his boot.
Colin ignored him and continued to scout the construction site. There was no evidence of camping fires or bunks. Same as always. Same shit, different day.
He scanned once more, when Wheat leapt to his feet and barked.
Instinctively, Colin turned and scuffled to get his rifle up, pointing in the direction Wheat was yapping – down the long corridor of the trees, out towards the south-east of the farm. There wasn’t much to see that way but more fields and dirt roads. Keeping his gun steady with his righ
t hand he tucked his head beneath the strap of the duffle bag and dropped it to the floor. He steadied the gun with his second hand and walked forwards, towards where Wheat’s eye-line was trained.
Wheat barked again and a small flock of birds burst from the trees, peppering the sky with black dots. Colin huffed, lowered his gun and studied Wheat as the birds flew low over the fields, out towards the estate. Wheat’s eyes followed the flock until they were far out of sight.
Half a smile crept onto Colin’s face.
“When was the last time you saw birds out here, Wheat?” Colin dropped the rifle and picked up the bag. “Perhaps they’re right. Perhaps the tide is turning…”
Suddenly something caught his eye. Movement. The smallest speck amongst the grey walls.
“Huh?” Colin rifled through the bag and withdrew the binoculars. He peered down and, for a half a second, saw someone. A very young someone with blond hair. Without thinking, he lowered the binoculars and automatically reached for the little gold ring on the chain he wore around his neck. He wiped his eyes, looked again and the child was gone. He frantically searched for several minutes before giving up. Perhaps he was seeing things. It sure couldn’t have been who he thought it was.
Colin threw the binoculars back into the bag and patted Wheat’s head. “Come on, mutt. Let’s get you some food.”
Wheat raced ahead, wagging his tail excitedly.
~ 2 ~
Jerry LeShard met them at the door.
“You know what you need, kid?” Jerry asked, watching as Colin slipped off his boots and dropped them to the floor. Each one thumping the wooden walkway.
“Beer?” Colin grunted. Wheat padded eagerly out of sight into the kitchen.
Jerry shook his head and chuckled.
“We all need beer, kid. What I’d give for a Newkie Brown right now. My kingdom for a goddamn Newkie Brown.” Jerry draped an arm across Colin’s shoulder and guided him inside. “No, what you really need is a triple S. You know what a triple S is?”
“Here we go,” Kitty said as the steaming kettle whistled away on the flaming hob. The smell of the porridge filled the air and his stomach grunted with hunger.
Colin rolled his eyes and spoke at the same time as Jerry, knowing it off by heart by now. “Shit… Shower… and a Shave.”
They were all in fits. Jerry doubled over, Kitty wiped a tear away as she gestured for Colin’s coat, and Colin couldn’t help but chuckle through the thickness of his wiry beard.
“Shave? That’s a luxury I’d like to afford. Are you holding out on me, Jerry? You got a beard trimmer, Gandalf?”
“Do I look like I’ve got a beard trimmer?” Jerry said, pointing to the giant white wizard beard on his chin, crossing his eyes and doing his best impression of a goon.
Wheat barked loudly from his bed in the corner.
“Oh give it a rest you mangy mutt,” Jerry grinned, knocking a newspaper across Wheat’s nose.
“Hey, less of that. He’s family,” Kitty said as she slopped the sticky white porridge into the bowls on the table.
Colin sat at the small round table with Jerry across from him. He grabbed his spoon and dug into the steaming mush. Kitty pulled up her own chair and placed her morning tea on the table in front of her. She sniffed at the rising steam and took a deep breath as Wheat left his bed and laid down beneath the table with a hungry whine.
They sat in silence whilst they ate. Occasionally Jerry would load a spoon, reach under the table and let Wheat lick the metal clean. Kitty rolled her eyes affectionately as he brought it back up and to his mouth. Colin shook his head with disapproval. After they were all done, Kitty jumped up and took the bowls to the sink. While she clanked away, Jerry sat back in his chair, let out a satisfied burp, and picked stubborn bits of oat from his teeth.
“Don’t you want to know about the patrol?” Colin said as he sat back and patted his own stomach.
“I’d have known if you’d seen something,”
“How?”
“You think you’d wait this long to tell me if you had? C’mon, Colin. We know you better than that.” He turned to Kitty. “Remember that first week he came to stay with us? He was breathless at the door all because he saw a rotter approaching in the distance over by the old pumpkin patches.”
Colin felt himself blushing.
“Oh that’s right,” Kitty said, laughing into the dishes.
“But it wasn’t a rotter, was it, Col?”
“No.”
“What was it?”
Colin lowered his head. “A scarecrow.”
The room exploded with laughter. Wheat jumped on and off Jerry’s lap. Colin felt his cheeks flush and his spirits lift. It was true. When he’d first come to stay with the LeShards everything had seemed like a hazard. It all seemed too good to be true. A solitary farm in the middle of nowhere, offering a safe zone in the hands of two amazingly generous citizens. On some level, he almost assumed that it would be ripped out from beneath him. That someone would come and take it all away. That was the theme of Colin’s life. At least since…
His mind jumped back to Redhill estates. The brief flash of the blond child from afar. A face that haunted him in dreaming nights and waking days.
Colin didn’t notice the room go quiet.
“What’s wrong, kid?”
He looked into Jerry’s concerned face. Beard dipping into his glass of water on the table. For a second he thought about telling them. Just letting the demons out. Instead, he said, “I guess I’m just wondering whether it’s time to move on.”
There was a brief moment as Kitty turned around and caught Jerry’s eyes. He shot her a look that brought her back to the dishes.
“Move on?” Jerry laughed, less convincing this time. “We’ve spoken about this, Col. What do you think is out there? You think you’re going to find a town full of rations? Maybe even a group of people that have remembered how to live like human beings and get along without stabbing each other five minutes later? C’mon, we know better than that. It’s all well and good to hope, but things have changed. You should know that better than anybody.”
“Jerry…” Kitty warned, leaving the dishes now and addressing the room.
Though there was still a small smile on Jerry’s face, slowly slipping. Colin saw an offended look in his eye. The atmosphere turned a shade tenser with every word Jerry uttered. “I just mean that…”
“Let me tell you something. That, out there?” Jerry pointed a bony finger toward the window. “The world is one big death trap. Full of scavvies, rotters, and who knows what else? The world’s changed and that’s that. You want to go and find out, fine. But me and Kitty have done pretty well here so far, so just leave us here where it’s safe.”
“No, I mean all of us,” Colin said, feeling himself becoming heated. He stood up, feeling his presence as a black cloud looming over Jerry. Sure Jerry’s tongue was sharp, and he certainly had a hold on Colin, but that was nothing to the great beast that Colin became when he was angry. With beard bristling and eyes blazing he was a terrifying force to behold. “I’ve been walking these fields for years now and I’ve seen no hide nor hair of any rotters at all. All I see are ways for scavvies to break in. There’re no defences, there’s nothing at all to stop a group of scavvies trotting over the fields and taking this place while we sleep. And with all of these supplies you got lying around, it’s a damn paradise for travellers. We’re lucky we’ve even made it this far. Not to mention that car—”
“—What about the car?—”
“—You realise that thing is rarer than a sushi roll, right? I mean… you’re just asking for trouble. If we can just look at expanding our patrol, maybe even taking a trip out for a few miles…”
“Colin,” Jerry said, hands shaking, doing his best to calm the tone a little. “We’ve lived in this farm for over thirty years. We were here long before the rot came, and we plan to stay long after. We’re not going anywhere.”
“So we just sit and wait until
we’re raided?”
Jerry stood up, walked across to Kitty and put his arm around her. She leant her head against his chest and flashed a half smile at Colin before her eyes quickly moved away.
Jerry spoke, softer now. “We ain’t worried about no retard with a spear he’s made out of some stick he found in the woods.”
“Why the hell not?” Colin said, slumping back into his seat.
“Because we got you, kid” Jerry smiled. “And I don’t think no scavs would come messing around here, because we got you and… well… have you ever met you? You’re as scary as a taxman on payday, Col.” He walked closer to Colin. “You’re one scary son-of-a-bitch!”
Jerry patted Colin’s shoulder, that winning smile appearing and erasing any memory that only minutes before had been a face of anger. Colin idly stroked his beard, watching Kitty out the corner of his eyes as she shuffled awkwardly, apparently not sure whether to become a part of the moment or to finish cleaning.
“I wouldn’t speak too soon,” Colin grumbled, eyes trained on Kitty. “I’m not quite sure what side I’m settling on.”
“Well, I know you’ll make the right decision,” Jerry winked, bending down and planting a wet kiss on Colin’s face. He grunted in disgust and wiped away the moisture. “Now, unless I’m very much mistaken, breakfast is finished, and that means it’s car tinkering time. You coming to help an old man, Col?”
Colin told Jerry he’d be through in a second. That he wanted to finish his drink. When Jerry left the room fell in silence, with Kitty shuffling about the kitchen collecting the last remnants of their meal. Occasionally she’d catch Colin’s eye, but that would only be for half a second before she found something else to busy herself with. After a couple of minutes, Colin was about to leave the room when she spoke.
“He’s a good guy, you know. He trusts people. He puts a lot of trust in you. I hope you can see that.”
“I do.”
Keep My Bones Page 3