They had expanded their gardens to several yards, those they identified as having good soil, and others that simply had intact tall fences. Especially when it came to foods that deer liked, the high fences had been effective in keeping out the local deer population that was exploding in spite of regular hunting.
“Grandmother Madge said you were in Europe, or was it Africa?” Jess asked, dying to hear about the outside world, “How did you get here?”
Penelope and Kip’s faces grew grim. They glanced at each other for a moment and Penelope held out her mug to Kip for a refill. He was nearest the coffeepot. “That has been an adventure, let me tell you. Have any of you heard much of what is going on in the outside world, outside of the former United States?” she asked Jess and David. The word “former” raised David’s hackles a little. What did she mean former? They were still the United States...weren’t they?
Jess answered, “We heard that The Collapse spread past our borders. That it was kind of like a domino effect. First the economic collapse and then multiple civil wars and uprisings in places like Greece, the Middle East, even China after the U.S. dollar collapsed.”
She dug into old memories, from before the invasion by the Western Front, “There were a lot of problems with the Euro before the Collapse. But afterwards,” she shrugged, “we lost power and internet and my parents stopped talking about what was happening out there.”
She stared into the gathering darkness, “Maybe it was too big, too frightening even for them. And then afterwards, after I returned with David and Tina and Jacob, well, we haven’t exactly welcomed outsiders in Belton until more recently. The world has changed, I’m sure, but we only know what is nearby. There have been plenty of false starts into reasserting government on a broader level, but nothing that’s stuck.” She gestured toward the town center, “We have a militia, a mayor...”
“For whatever they are worth,” murmured David in disgust.
Jess shot him a glance, “...and a basic town government in place. Every so often someone gets their britches in a knot and wants something more, and starts talking about money and taxes and the federal government. That doesn’t last long.”
Penelope nodded. “When the United States collapsed, much of the world was already on the brink of complete chaos. The riots in Greece were just the beginning of what became an uprising, civil war, and eventually a full war through Europe.”
She gave a dark laugh, “Even Switzerland couldn’t sit this one out. And Africa had already been a hotbed, right along with the Middle East; so much infighting, along with the scourge of HIV and so many young people growing up without any parents, without any direction in their lives.”
She took a sip of the dark, heavily sweetened chicory and continued, “We were traveling with an independently funded humanitarian aid mission in Uganda. The Lord’s Resistance Army controlled much of the north at the time. The word got out that every American had better get out now, or else.” Her face had a wry look, “As if it were that easy.”
Her husband Kip, who had said little until this point, took up the story, “It took us nearly two years just to get out of Africa. Everything that could break down did—communications, monetary systems, and the American embassies, or any embassies friendly to United States interests were either closed, burned to the ground, or abandoned. The fact that we were Americans was suddenly a very bad thing. Luckily we had friends, those who had been helped by our organization, by us. We stayed with a string of them, until it became dangerous for them to keep us there. We eventually found our way to the Mediterranean and tried to enter Europe via Italy, and later Spain.” He shook his head.
Penelope continued, “It seemed that all of Europe was either involved in uprisings, civil war, or fighting each other. More than anything, though, we, well, any Americans were turned away. We ended up with several others from our aid group on a freighter, bound for Port-au-Prince. It was the closest thing we had to the U.S., although anyone we spoke to told us there had been nukes set off in the south and there were plenty of pointed fingers.”
She took another sip of the chicory, now cooled in the mug, and continued, “In the end, we don’t know how it started, or who pushed what buttons, but there were nuclear detonations recorded in Austin, D.C., and Los Angeles. It looks as if the Star Wars defense program took out most of the satellites in space at right around the same time—effectively ending world-wide communications.”
David remembered some of the talk, overheard through closed doors and muffled conversations between his parents. Hearing it so clear, so real from two people who had experienced it, it was surreal.
Jess remembered more, and hearing Kip and Penelope describe it, brought back the memories of the internet, intermittent, and her father shouting about the nuke in Austin before everything went down for good.
Penelope stared at the bottom of her cup, her vision clouded by the events that came next.
Kip waited for her to speak and then he continued the story, “We knew the chances of finding Madge were unlikely. There had been such chaos in the cities, we wondered if she ever even made it out. Not to mention that she had told Penelope and her other children of her illness and that she didn’t have long. Penelope had been scheduling a trip back to the States when everything went to hell. We just didn’t hold out much hope. We stayed in Haiti for nearly eighteen months trying to stay alive and figure out where to go next.”
Penelope sat there for a moment, her eyes and mind miles away, lost in memories of Haiti. She didn’t want to tell them of the disease, the murders, or how many times they had fought for just enough food to survive. She didn’t want to talk about the children she saw lying dead in the streets.
Penelope roused herself, “Florida was impossible—there were nearly a dozen naval bases there that banded together once communications with D.C. ceased. They patrol the waters and allow no one in. It’s a fire first, ask questions later situation. We couldn’t get close enough to tell them we were American, not that it would have mattered. They had locked it down to Florida residents anyway. Texas was a fallout zone, as was much of the Caribbean and the southern states,” she pursed her lips, “Not that they told Florida citizens that. They were actively denying it even after the first reports of radiation sickness. Once the Western Front started moving east into the Plains states, other factions of former military, along with extremists, rose up to define their own areas of control.”
Kip chimed in, “The Allied South struggled to consolidate Louisiana, Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, and South Carolina. Mexico had surged into Arizona, New Mexico, and the most southern section of California and there was chaos there—lines drawn between the white, Hispanic, and Native American populations. The drug cartels made a move for power. The east coast had three different contingents—the Northern Allies who were struggling to define the borders of half a dozen small states, the Unionists that controlled some parts of the southeast, and the Patriots who were hopelessly divided through infighting in Kentucky, Ohio, and Indiana.”
Even Jacob and Becka, who understood little of the states being discussed, having been born after the Collapse, were silent. Erin, just four years old, had curled up in David’s arms, and was sucking her thumb, listening intently to Kip and Penelope’s account.
Penelope continued, “We finally found entry just west of Biloxi, Mississippi. There had been a radiation fallout scare and much of the area was deserted. We headed up Highway 49. After that it was a zigzag route, we entered Tennessee, tried to go through the northwest section, but there were a chain of small towns, all with militias, and we were turned back at Tiptonville.” She took another sip, “The Western Front had torn through that region and everyone was on edge. If you weren’t a resident they turned you away, no questions, no argument.” She smiled wryly, “After all, they were the ones with the guns. You can’t argue much with the business end of a gun.”
Kip spoke, “We spent a winter in Arkansas. There were migrant groups moving
through the areas, many of them working crops, building or reinforcing town borders, living like gypsies as they searched for a place to stay. We moved in and out of these groups—diseases we hadn’t seen in decades in the Western world ran rampant. Cholera, bouts of dysentery, and a host of other illnesses could be found in any group we joined. But the alternative was to go it alone, without some of the protection a group could provide. Sometimes it was worth it, other times it wasn’t.”
Penelope spoke, “And eventually we moved through parts of Oklahoma, Kansas, and then finally Missouri. Once we hit Missouri I was determined to find my mother. I had thought about it a lot, wondering what she would do, where she would go if she knew she only had a short time to live. I doubted that she would have stayed in her home there in Kansas City, and we were close to the archaeology site she had been working on for the last few years. I had been given the opportunity to visit the site the first year they had begun work, so I was familiar with where to find it. I figured if she wasn’t there, I would try finding her in KC. I wasn’t holding out much hope either way.”
She paused, drained the last of the chicory from her cup, and said, “I noticed the cairn immediately. When we arrived at the cave I was convinced that the full team had to have been there, since there was evidence of more than just Mom. It took me a while to go deeper into the cave. I was wondering where everyone went, even though it was obvious it had been a while. I had completely forgotten about the long passage. Finding your letter, even as it raised more questions, gave me some measure of peace.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears, “She wasn’t alone when she passed. That means so much to me to know that she had someone with her as she passed into the world of spirits.” She wiped at a tear that had escaped and began trickling down her cheek. “And eventually we came here, looking for you, Jess.”
Jess realized then that her own cheeks were wet with tears. The few months they had spent with Madge had been beautiful ones. The old woman had given her so much—love, acceptance, and peace—even now, six years later, she remembered it like it was yesterday. Just when her faith in humans and life in general had been so sorely tested, Madge had reminded her of all she had to live for, all that she could be for Jacob, the others, and for herself. Healing during those months in the cave had allowed her to have some trust in others again. She had emerged from the cave as more than just a ghost filled with grief over the loss of her friend, Erin.
Grandmother, that is what she asked us to call her, took us in, and taught us how to survive here, in this cave through the winter. It is now March, late March, and no snow has fallen in several weeks. The temperatures are rising and it is time for me to try to finish my journey home.
“I have her journal. The personal one that she kept,” Jess remembered suddenly. “I can get it for you.”
Penelope held up a hand, “Tomorrow. Can I come again tomorrow?” The sun had set and the darkness had closed in. “We are staying in town. That they let us in at all was a surprise, but apparently the militia is allowing traders and migrant workers in these days, so we will be here for another day or perhaps two.”
Jess nodded, “Yes, yes of course. Come by tomorrow.” They said their goodbyes and she watched Penelope and Kip walk away into the darkness. It was a new moon in the sky, and the darkness seemed overwhelming as they disappeared into the night. She gave a small start when David put his hand on her shoulder.
“She wants something, doesn’t she?” he asked, his voice quiet in the gloom.
“Yeah...” Jess didn’t know how to say it better, “She wants Tina.”
“What?!” David sounded outraged and he looked as though he was ready to run after the couple and confront them.
Jess hastily explained, “There’s a group of doctors, healers, working together in the city, or what’s left of Kansas City, to create a new learning center for the healing arts. Sarah Turner told her about us, about Tina, and Penelope says it would be an apprenticeship.” She grabbed his sleeve, “They are coming back tomorrow. We will learn more about them then. Okay? Let’s not jump to any decision right now. They seem alright, and you can say no, but at least let’s hear them out. It might actually be a chance for Tina to become a doctor...someone necessary...a future she might want.”
David pulled away. “She isn’t your sister, Jess. You can’t just make this decision for her, or for me.” His tone was defensive, even bitter.
Jess felt a surge of pain. They had spent years together, and she loved Tina just as much as she loved David or Jacob. “Of course not...I’m not trying to make a decision for her. I’m just...I’m just saying we should listen to what they say.”
David walked in the opposite direction, away from where Penelope and Kip had headed into town, away from the house and Jess. She watched him go, feeling hurt and defensive. She knew he had a right to his feelings, but his abrupt departure wounded her. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was suggest that she wanted Tina should go away.
I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. But I’m writing this letter and then hiding the box where only someone who knows Madge and inner twists and turns of this cave will be able to find it. I have to be sure, you see. It still isn’t safe. They have sent out soldiers hunting for us and I don’t know that they aren’t still out there, looking.
The next day, David seemed better. They had worked on the house, repairing a section of the roof, and then weeding several of the beds of potatoes and lettuce. Jess had made up her mind to tell Penelope they weren’t interested, that Tina was far too young. What possible apprenticeship could apply to a young child? As she watched Penelope approach, her long-legged stride fluid on the broken pavement of the street, Jess could see that Sarah Turner had joined her and that Penelope’s husband, Kip, was not with them.
Sarah was a kind woman. She had always treated Jess as an equal—and during those first months and years, she had championed the younger woman’s cause, and that of their motley group of children more than once. Sarah was quite protective, in fact, which made Jess wonder about the older woman’s past, and that of her children, who were nearly the same age as Jess. Sarah had always been rather close-mouthed about where she had come from, or where Cody and Laura’s father was.
What would Sarah have to contribute to all of this? Jess wasn’t sure what to think. A quick glance at David’s face signaled trouble. Tina was his sister, and he had a right to his opinion, but for the first time Jess wondered what Tina wanted. Stay or go, wasn’t it up to her? After all, Tina was nearly the age that David had been when they all first met in Clinton. He had been old enough to make a decision then, a decision that taken him away from everything familiar, everything that reminded him of home. Shouldn’t Tina have the right to make that same decision? Even at the age of ten years?
Jess was conflicted and she knew it showed in her face. Sarah took it in, smiled at her, and gave her a warm hug. “Good morning Jess!” Since her daughter Laura had married Todd Stevens the laugh lines on her face had deepened. The births of Laura and Todd’s two boys had brought happiness, along with something Jess could only describe as longing to Sarah’s face. Jess wondered if Sarah was thinking of the husband she had left behind. Jess had listened to so many stories, so many unfinished, unknown fates of loved ones. It was perhaps the most haunting part of her job as historian— the unknown fates of so many. Sarah’s story was one of dozens.
It was hours before dinner and they had had lunch just two hours earlier, but Sarah produced a loaf of her sourdough bread, a favorite of David’s. That was combined with a bag of fruits that Kip had sent along, payment for some picking work they had both done earlier in the day. Jess and David, along with Tina, Sarah, and Penelope, sat down for a bite to eat and some conversation. It was stilted at first, mainly due to David, who felt cornered and resentful. Jess laid her hand on his knee, reminding him silently that she was his ally. He stared at her hand as she made small talk with Penelope and Sarah, concentrated on the long, tapered fingers
. They were rough with callouses, but still delicate. He looked at them and tried to calm his fears—of losing his sister, knowing how much she wanted to go.
Tina had come to him that morning, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, and quietly folded herself on the floor of his room, quietly so she didn’t wake Jacob. Her room was right next door, shared with Becka and Erin, when one or the other wasn’t curled in bed next to Jess. “I want to go with her,” was all that she had said when he opened one bleary eye and focused on her. They had engaged in a silent contest of wills, him glaring, her just staring back, until he had finally turned away and pulled the covers over his head and tried to ignore her. When he had turned back over a few moments later she was gone.
The small talk had progressed while he was woolgathering. Penelope was describing her mother’s house in Kansas City. “It’s over 130 years old and solid brick. Surprisingly, it’s rather intact considering the dire situation that most residents were in before and during the collapse. Most of her books are still there,” Penelope smiled at Jess, “she wrote about all kinds of recent history, as well as anthropology. She had quite an obsession with Jesse James and also had notes on Pendergast, a corrupt political boss in the early 20th century.” She turned toward David, who just shrugged and shook his head. He had never heard of Jesse James or Pendergast.
“In any case, the house was gone through, but not much was taken and it was empty when we visited it last week. We are planning to stay there and work with a medical group that is forming.” She looked at Tina and smiled at her, then back to David where her smile faltered a brief second, “If it would be all right, Tina could come with us to Kansas City, and stay in the house. There is plenty of room and there are other students who she would be learning side-by-side with. You could come too, David, to see for yourself, if you liked.”
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