Gleanings

by Alice Sabo

  The first issue was food. That was something that the old government had gotten right. If they hadn’t had the train food to rely on all these years, there would be a lot fewer people around. But that wasn’t something they could manufacture with the equipment at the school. It made much more sense to spread things out. They needed backups in case the High Meadow kitchen couldn’t produce for some reason. She put that thought to the side because she didn’t want to have to consider what might make that happen.

  Having Holly Hill and the Creamery as their only main sources of food was scary enough. If they could get a few more small subsistence farms going this year, they would have a safety cushion should something happen. The bus detoured around a downed tree as if underlining her thoughts. A tornado had taken out a whole field of wheat. It could do the same to a herd of cows or a group of Sentinels. She shivered, planning for the worst always conjured up images she’d rather leave behind.

  The shuttle made its next stop. Tilly disembarked uneasily. Then she shook herself, angrily. She was only a couple of blocks from the high school. There was no reason to feel so unsettled. The warehouse was across the street. The front door of the office was open. She squared her shoulders before entering.

  Jean was standing in an inner doorway with a clipboard in hand. “I just asked if anyone knew when you’d be here.”

  “Here I am,” Tilly said with false cheer.

  “Let me give you the tour.”

  Tilly followed into the warehouse proper. It was a cavernous space, high ceilings and rows of shelving that reached high over her head. It had obviously been a warehouse previously, but she couldn’t tell for what. Only a few shelves held boxes or crates. All the rest of the racks were empty, marching away into the dimness. It looked a bit bleak to her, until she saw the haul of toilet paper. That managed to cheer her up considerably. She didn’t want to think about what they would do when the country ran out of manufactured toilet paper.

  Jean led her back to a loading dock. A huge truck was backed up, and men were unloading it with forklifts. For a moment, Tilly felt transported back into the world she remembered. Everything looked so normal.

  “Bruno gave me a list of the stores. They are going to empty them one by one. This shipment is from a clothing store.” Jean gestured Tilly forward.

  Stacks of pants had been lashed onto a pallet. Tilly looked back into the truck. There were dozens of these pallets. She thought of Claude working away in the Wardrobe to make sure everyone had clothing for the winter. And now they had hundreds of pants. “What...” she sputtered, unable to get her muddled thoughts into order.

  “We’re opening a clothing depot,” Jean said, addressing the biggest question. “There’s a good space on the other side of town. Bruno’s having the racks sent along, too. And we can use some unskilled labor to sort things by size and get them on hangers or shelves.”

  Tilly stared at the truck, tears pricking her eyes. Was she superfluous now?

  “The next store is a pharmacy. All the drugs will be out of date, but the bandages and things should be okay. I was wondering if we should find a clinic or a doctor’s office and move the infirmary.”

  Tilly turned her startled gaze to Jean. “Do we know about a place like that?”

  “I haven’t looked at the maps.”

  “I’ll talk to the surveyors.” The words came out of her mouth so easily that she didn’t think Jean could tell how shaken she was.

  “Because we’re probably going to need a larger infirmary or clinic.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Babies,” Jean said. “Have you noticed how many women are pregnant?”

  Tilly thought she detected a touch of heat in that question. It made her wonder if Jean was feeling left out. But with her exotic looks, she shouldn’t have to search far for a partner. Or maybe that was the problem, the partner she’d like wasn’t making himself available. A sudden thought of the sick baby and desperate mother that Nick had brought in, made her change gears. “Maybe we need a mother and child center.”

  A van, going too fast, squealed around the truck and screeched to a stop blocking the loading zone. Tilly recognized the vehicle as one of Martin’s. The five men that piled out were wearing the green armbands of the Watch, but once again, Tilly didn’t recognize any of them. They all carried guns, which made her wonder if there was a problem she should know about. They sauntered, grinning too widely, making her hackles rise.

  “We’ll take that, now,” said the first one. He had frizzy blond hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and bloodshot blue eyes.

  Tilly heard Jean gasp and stepped in front of her as if her scrawny old body was any kind of shield. They weren’t the real Watch. This was what happened when a community grew too fast. Strangers were placed in positions of trust before they earned them.

  “What are you going to do with two hundred pairs of women’s pants in red and,” she glanced back toward the truck, “oh, dear, bright orange.” She traded a glance with one of the helpers in the truck. He must have understood her slight twitch of the head because he hid behind a pile of pallets.

  The raider looked baffled. “I don’t care what it is, this whole place is ours now.” He waved an automatic weapon at her.

  “Why?” Tilly asked. She was holding on to her temper, hoping she could change this situation, but knowing it was going to end in bloodshed. And praying to any god that would listen that the blood wouldn’t be hers.

  A stocky man wearing a bandana on his head and mirrored sunglasses that hid his eyes stepped forward. “Because we can old woman.” He pointed a gun at her.

  “This truck is full of clothes,” she said, hearing her voice climb. She didn’t need to fake the fear, just control it. “It isn’t worth anything to you.” She heard the soft shuffling of footsteps as the rest of the crew inside the warehouse escaped. The best she could do in this situation was to stall long enough for the others to get to safety.

  “You don’t get it,” Bandana snarled. “We’re taking the warehouse.”

  Behind the fear and frustration, Tilly wanted to give them a lecture on supply and demand, on economics and geographics. She settled for explaining the current state of the food supply. “The fresh food in here won’t last long. Most of it has to be prepared for storage. If you want to get through the winter—”

  A gunshot cut her off. She flinched, but it hadn’t been aimed at her. Ponytail had his gun pointed at the sky. “The next one goes through you. Now back off.”

  A flicker of movement caught Tilly’s eye. A man was hiding in the trees off to the left. She saw another flicker on the right and felt sure that the real Watch had arrived. She just needed to give them enough time to get into place. Jean put a hand on her shoulder, offering her what support she could.

  “I don’t want any trouble,” Tilly said. She raised her hands in surrender. “Can we just talk about how you’re going to distribute—”

  Another gunshot, Tilly saw a starburst of blood scatter from her hand. Her first reaction was white-hot fury; the second, shock that the idiot had actually shot her. Jean grabbed her and hauled her into cover behind some crates. She put her back to the wall and closed her eyes. A bright pain shot through her hand. Then there was a barrage of gunfire. A bullet ricocheted off the metal frame of the door. Her heart was beating so hard her whole body was vibrating. When she looked over, she saw Jean holding a gun, and it made her feel unprepared. It hadn’t occurred to her to arm herself before leaving the school.

  Jean had come a long way from the day she’d survived the massacre at Riverbank. Today, she was armed and ready to use it. Tilly didn’t think she’d actually fired the gun yet. She was pretty sure that the gunfire had all come from outside.

  For a moment, a tense silence settled over them. Her hand throbbed horribly. She was afraid to look but knew she should do something about the bleeding. Then she heard a familiar voice. “Tilly, you okay?” Tall Joe yelled from the loading zone.

  She didn�
��t know if her legs would hold her, so she stayed where she was, leaning on the wall. “I’m okay,” she said, but her voice was a rough whisper.

  Tall Joe walked in the big door, squinting into the darkness of the warehouse. “You’re hurt.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wound it around her hand. The cloth was pale blue and his name was embroidered on one corner. That was Old Agnus’s work. She didn’t even have enough energy left to fuss over getting blood on such a pretty handkerchief.

  “The men?” she asked, surprised to hear how frail her voice sounded.

  “Tall Joe put his arm around her shoulders and turned her away from the door. “Don’t you worry about that. We’ve got it all in hand.”

  She had no choice but to lean on him. Her legs were shaky, and she was having trouble catching her breath. He was warm and strong, and she let herself be taken care of for once.

  They bundled her up into one of the real Watch’s vans and had her back at the school before she knew it. Tall Joe stayed with her all the way to the infirmary where she was glad to see Dr. Jameson was on duty. Angus appeared to hold her other hand.

  “You scared me, my dear,” Angus said as he kissed her cheek.

  “It’s not bad, I mean, I don’t think...” she looked to him, keeping her gaze away from whatever Dr. Jameson was doing. It hurt like hell, but she’d always been able to block out pain.

  “Just a graze I think,” Angus reassured her. He glanced over to the doctor and back with a smile.

  “They had green armbands,” Tilly said, her anger coming back.

  Tall Joe folded his arms, a tight frown wrinkling his brow. “This is my fault. I wasn’t paying attention. I don’t know how they got the armbands, but it gave them access to everything we got. They checked out weapons and took a van. Nobody stopped them. Looks like I need to beef up security.”

  “We’ll need to issue some kind of IDs,” Angus suggested. “There're so many new men, I don’t know them by sight anymore.

  Tall Joe nodded without making eye contact. “I’m sorry Tilly, Angus.”

  “We’re all learning here,” Angus said. “Our population exploded. Nearly every face I see is a new one. We can thank Wisp that we’re pretty sure that most of them are good eggs. But we aren’t programmed to think like bad eggs, and they will try to get past whatever measures we put in place.”

  The head of the Watch seemed to relax a little. Then Martin clattered in the door making Tall Joe flinch. “Tilly! What happened?” Martin caught sight of Tall Joe and scowled at him.

  “I’m okay,” Tilly said, pleased that her voice was finally stronger than a mouse-squeak. “It was a bunch of idiots. What were they thinking? They said they wanted the warehouse, but if they took it over, didn’t it occur to them that we would stop shipping things there?”

  Angus laughed. “I don’t think they got that far my dear. I think it was probably a much shorter thought process starting with ‘that looks like good stuff’ and ending with ‘I want it’”.

  “But why? Why would they want a warehouse full of random items?”

  “They probably didn’t know that,” Martin said. “I doubt they did much research or they would have known our response times.” He gave Tall Joe a nod that Tilly interpreted as approval.

  “And now what do we do with them?” Tilly said, her anger rising again. They were going to end up feeding these awful men and housing them. It infuriated her that they would be responsible for the wellbeing of violent, stupid people.

  “That’s not an issue,” Tall Joe said quietly.

  “Of course it is,” Tilly snapped. “Where are we going to keep them?”

  Tall Joe shifted his weight and looked to Martin. “When he shot you, Tilly, my men opened fire. Ain’t one of ‘em that would let those bastards get away with hurting you. Only thing we need to do now is bury them.”

  Chapter 38

  As the factories shut down, rumors of the pressgangs ceased.

  History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss

  BRIDGET WAS EXCITED and scared in equal doses. Leaving the damaged building had felt all kinds of wrong, but walking through the woods on a sunny day was improving her mood. The soldiers would easily get the place repaired without her help. Dunham had given her a different task. She and Jace would hike the twelve miles to the train station and spend the night in the shelter cubbies, then leave first thing the next day for High Meadow.

  They traveled carefully and silently. By mid-afternoon, she was exhausted as much from being constantly alert as from the hike. Even though she walked patrol every day, this hike over uneven ground made her leg muscles ache. And every odd sound in the forest had them freezing in place until it was sorted out.

  The sight of the station lit with golden light from the late day sun was a relief. They approached warily but found the station empty. The lights and air conditioning were on. She couldn’t stop herself from checking the food storage room and was unreasonably disappointed to find it empty.

  “The showers are working,” Jace reported, wiping sweat off his face with the front of his shirt.

  She shouldn’t have separated from him. They should have stayed together, alert, and cleared the whole station first. But she was out of practice. The safety of the Depository had made her sloppy. They took turns showering while the other stood guard. She took her time under the hot water, knowing that it wasn’t rationed. No one else needed the facilities. When it was Jace’s turn, he took just as long. They ate a quick meal, sharing a packet of stew-goo. It tasted flat after the recent additions. It wasn’t enough, but it was all she was allowed. She drank a lot of water and hit the sack.

  The next morning, waking up in the cubby startled her. She was used to her quarters, a repurposed office that she shared with two other women. Having a little space to herself felt luxurious. She washed up and found Jace sitting on the stairs eating Crunch. He wordlessly passed her the packet. It tasted rich to her. She was so used to watered down porridge that having a whole bar to herself felt extravagant. It was a reminder of what this mission might bring them. Would they find a town, farms, a way to get supplies? Or would they find a group of victims, starving and sick? She wished with all her might that it would be the former.

  Once they were done eating, they headed up to the train platform. She checked the big board to see what train lines were operating. They could take the Eastern Linkline south to the Continental Line. That put them a couple stops east of High Meadow. Depending on the train schedule, they could get there by lunch. Her palms were a little sweaty, and the skin on the back of her neck itched. She felt very exposed in the big empty space.

  “Hey, look at this?” Jace called. His voice sounded dangerously loud, echoing off the high ceiling. She rushed over to see what he’d found. Partly because he’d startled her, and she felt especially on edge, and partly because she wanted good news. He was sitting at an ether booth with a big grin on his face, so she hoped it was really good news.

  “The ether works?” She was stunned. “How come ours doesn’t?”

  Jace shrugged, his fingers playing over the keyboard. “Looks like there isn’t a whole lot out there. But you can check the train schedule. And look, there’s a weather forecast.”

  “Weather satellites fell out of orbit years ago. It’s probably just some automated program that somebody never turned off.”

  After they checked all the working sites that they could find, she and Jace settled on the platform to wait for the next train. According to the ether, one should be through in forty-five minutes. Then they’d have a half-hour wait at Westfield Station to catch a westbound train to High Meadow.

  “This seems a little too easy,” Jace said softly.

  “I don’t remember hearing anything about a settlement at High Meadow when I came through.”

  “That was six years ago, maybe it’s new.”

  Bridget shook her head. “Not many new settlements starting up this late.”

  Jace grunted agreement,
and they sat in silence until the train burst into the station.

  Although she jumped to her feet when it arrived, Bridget hesitated to enter the car. It looked wrong. The train was only one car long, and she had the weirdest feeling that it had been sent just for them. The door remained open, beckoning. Jace swung his pack over his shoulder and headed in. She forced her legs to move after him. Something big was about to happen. She could feel it in her bones. And it was this instinct that had saved her life in a firefight or two, so she remained alert.

  The trip to Westfield was uneventful. As soon as they disembarked from the train, Bridget went to check the big board. Like Fielding Station, this one had the territories marked out. It occurred to her that it might be coming from the train authorities because the lines running through the troubled areas were dark. She topped off her water bottle, and they went to find a bench on the westbound platform.

  Jace’s words kept running through her mind, this was too easy. But she wasn’t sure what should be happening that would make it harder. The train rattled into the station. She stared at it, trying figure out what she was seeing. This train was two cars long, but the second car was not normal.

  “Is that a cattle car?” Jace asked. The doors clanked open and a whiff of barnyard gave them the answer.

  Bridget turned to frown at Jace. “Well, that’s kind of weird.” She led the way to the usual type of car.

  “Manure,” Jace said in a whisper.

  It took Bridget a minute to figure out why Jace thought manure should be a secret. “Somebody is shipping animals,” she responded in a low voice.

  “Cows?” Jace’s eyes were wide.

  Bridget fought down a rising hope. They had to be on the alert. They couldn’t let anything lull them into thinking that they were safe, or that the world might be normal.

  The trip was short, only two stations to the High Meadow stop. They disembarked to find people on the platform waiting for the train. She froze and Jace bumped into her from behind.