Gleanings

by Alice Sabo

  Somehow that made him think of Jean. He wondered if she’d gotten a fluffy bathrobe. If she hadn’t, maybe he’d give her his. He wanted a little down time and realized he wanted to spend it with her. It felt selfish, in the middle of everything that was going on, but it was true. He wanted to eat a leisurely meal and sit with Jean and talk about nothing of dire consequence. And maybe he would put his name in for one of the houses the Divvy Committee was cleaning up. Having a place of his own was a new idea, but it felt like a good one. And if he had a place of his own, he could share it with someone. But he didn’t want to think about that too much.

  By the time he was dressed, he’d planned the day. A picnic somewhere, just the two of them. He was headed to the kitchen to see what he could finagle out of Eunice when the alarms went off. Three horn blasts like a tug boat coming through – battle stations.

  The hallway had signs up for Angus’s meeting of the Survivor’s Alliance which was supposed to start tomorrow. He’d heard that people had already started arriving for it. More strangers to take care of in a crisis. He jogged down to the Strategy Room to find it full of ragged, half-starved strangers. “Where do you want me?” he asked Martin.

  “Nick, good, I want you with General Dunham,” Martin said with a gesture at the thinnest, most raggedy of the bunch. “They are our new partners,” he said meeting Nick’s eye to underscore the seriousness of it. “Please take them up to the map room and show them our borders.”

  Nick hesitated. He wanted to know what was going on, and why he was being excluded.

  Martin seemed to read his mind. “Group of armed men coming in from the west on the Continental Line. NTA shut it down at Clarkeston. We’ll meet them there.”

  “High Meadow station under control?” Nick asked.

  “Manned and clear.”

  Nick turned to shake hands with the general. “Let’s get out of here,” he said with a gesture. He led them up the stairs to the map room with a running commentary. “After we found out about General Washburn, Angus decided it was time to take control of a good portion of territory if we wanted to continue working on our sustainability.”

  “Why not merge with him?” Dunham asked.

  “That wouldn’t be an option,” Nick said flatly. “I don’t think he’s open to any compromises.”

  “Are you?”

  Nick gestured them into the map room. “Depends on what. Washburn was involved in the pressgangs and abandoning children. That’s not how we do things here. People are free to come and go as they please. Makes security a little more complicated, but we consider it worth the price.” Nick stood at the map and launched into a description of the territory, and what it contained, the farms, the dairy and the saw mill. How they were doing a survey of the land and turning up survivors.

  “What if they don’t want to join?” asked a grizzled old veteran.

  “There really isn’t anything to join,” Nick said with a one-shoulder shrug. “If you want food or clothing or to see the doctor, we ask for work in return. There used to be a job board, but we’ve had so many people come in since the trains shut down that we’ve had to get more creative. We’ve got a committee for that now, but mostly people just go where they feel comfortable.”

  “And you let them?”

  “Haven’t had an issue, yet. We’ve got new stuff starting practically every day, and we end up needing all sorts of skills. A barber just opened a shop by the train station. We’ve got a team of hunters that got together with a tailor, and they’re making coats out of the tanned hides. We’ve got people like Bruno, our Master Forager. His settlement was wiped out by mercenaries. He can’t handle being around too many people now, so he walks the streets looking for goods we might need. We bring them back, store them in a warehouse. Some stuff I can use for barter. Some we all need, like sheets and towels and socks.”

  “What if you can’t work?”

  “We’re not that hard,” Nick said with a twitch of a smile. “I think Tilly’s rule of thumb is about a week. After you’ve been eating our food, sleeping safe and resting up for a week, you need to start giving back.”

  “Sounds a little too good,” someone grumbled.

  Nick didn’t see who it was but accepted it as the perfect opening. “It is. We don’t have a jail. We can’t support those who refuse to contribute to the community. There cannot be dissent. If we want to survive this winter without train food, we need to protect the farms, help with the harvest, process it for storage, and everyone needs to work together doing it. Whether you’re guarding the border or picking apples or feeding the chickens.”

  “Tell me about your agreement with the train stations,” Dunham asked.

  A sudden rumble through the room startled Nick until he saw Wisp at the door.

  “Biobot!” the old vet growled.

  Nick started across the room to intercept. Wisp could handle himself, but a confrontation wouldn’t help this new collaboration. A woman cut off the old vet, staring him down, giving Nick an extra second to get there. “He’s part of our community,” he said firmly.

  “They’re monsters!”

  “He saved my life,” the woman said. She pushed the older man back a step.

  “No. You just think that. He set you up.”

  “My unit was surrounded. We’d taken a wrong turn and got trapped in a blind canyon. He came to our aid,” she said.

  “He killed human beings?” the vet demanded.

  “Not as many as I did,” she snapped back.

  Dunham raised a hand to quiet the argument. “Will you vouch for his behavior?” he asked Nick.

  “Absolutely,” Nick said. “But I’m not his keeper. We have a number of biobots here. That’s something that you’re going to have to come to terms with. And I can assure you that we would never have anyone here that was a danger to the settlement.”

  “What’s he trained for?” Dunham asked.

  Nick hesitated. He didn’t feel it was his story to tell.

  “Nothing,” Wisp said. “I was slated for termination.”

  “But you’re a trained fighter,” the woman said. “I saw you.” She took a step closer to Wisp and Nick saw a warm look in her eyes that surprised him. “Where did you train?”

  “Surviving on my own,” Wisp said quietly.

  Nick was doubly surprised to see Wisp speaking directly to the woman. In fact, he was even leaning towards her in an unusual way.

  “Bridget,” she said and offered her hand.

  Surprise number three, Wisp shook hands with her. “I am called Wisp.”

  Nick pulled his eyes away from this peculiar encounter to scan the room. There were more than a few scowls. “So General, how do you prefer to see your men deployed?” He pulled the focus back to the map.

  Chapter 54

  There has been war since the first human staked claim to a plot of land.

  History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss

  THE TRAIN CAME BARRELING into the station, and Bridget braced herself for casualties. She was furious at being delegated to triage, but part of her understood. When she looked at the well-fed Rovers and Sentinels that went off to fight, she felt diminished. Just getting down to the station and helping set up the first aid station had exhausted her. She didn’t realize how malnourished she was until she’d seen them. Staring at other starving faces for months had her thinking they all looked fine.

  Ruth was yelling instructions over the sound of the air brakes, but Bridget ignored her. They knew what to do with wounded. The doors slammed open, and Bridget steeled herself. Two men with brown armbands carried out an unconscious man in a sand-colored uniform. She hurried into the train car to find four more injured men in similar uniforms. A quick glance showed her no brown or red armbands among the wounded. A feeling of pride tightened her throat. Martin obviously knew how to train them.

  As soon as they got the wounded off, the train left. She had that odd feeling again that the cars were almost intuitive. But then one of the R
overs waved at someone overhead. Bridget squinted into the lights to see the catwalk where a man in the National Train Authority uniform waved back.

  Her people helped sort and clean up the wounded. They all had plenty of experience dealing with wounded in the field. The fact that they had this nice clean station, plenty of light and supplies made it a cakewalk. Some of the supplies made her feel like she’d been hurtled back in time. There were poultices and pots of ointment among the gauze and surgical glue.

  Armed men from the Watch were stationed on the stairs. She had heard Martin giving out the orders. Watch was responsible for High Meadow and the train station. The Sentinels were doing a sweep of the borders to make sure this wasn’t a distraction for a larger attack. The Rovers and something called the Ready Team were the main attack force.

  “Just tape it up, I gotta get back.” One of the Rovers who had come with the train was complaining to Ruth. He wiped blood out of his eyes from a gash on his forehead.

  “Your injury isn’t life threatening,” she snapped back.

  Bridget understood both sides of that argument. The enemy soldiers were in bad shape and the Rover only had a flesh wound. She hurried over. “I can take care of him.”

  Ruth waved at the big toolbox filled with medical supplies. “Help yourself.”

  She grabbed some swabs and tape, then waved the fellow over to a bench. “How’s it going?”

  “We took the station. Pushed ‘em out into the town now.” He grunted as she cleaned the wound.

  “What kind of town?”

  “Clarkeston almost burned to the ground awhile back. Wildfire. Not a lot of people living there now. So it’s hide and seek mostly.”

  “That’ll take time.” She taped the edges of the wound shut. It was still leaking a little blood, but it would do for now.

  “They haven’t a clue. Ran like little girls when we got there.” The Rover grinned at her.

  She knew the drill. “You’re good to go.”

  “’preciate it.”

  Another train thundered into the station. She walked along to get up to a door. The two Rovers that had come on the previous train helped move a few more wounded then boarded to travel back. Two new Rovers arrived with this load. Bridget noted that once again all the wounded wore that sand-colored uniform.

  “It isn’t military.” Jace came to join her on a bench. There wasn’t a lot that needed to be done. This bunch was too efficient.

  Bridget took a closer look at the insignia, and lack of it on the uniforms. “Looks like they’re playing soldiers.”

  “From what one of the Rovers said, sounds like they can’t fight worth shit.”

  “Why would they attack?”

  “Maybe the bully just met his match.”

  Bridget nodded. She watched the medical team pull a blanket over a body and wondered if they would bury him somewhere. She took a count, nine wounded, all from the other side, one dead and two nearly there. It wasn’t the doctor’s fault. She knew at a glance that most of them wouldn’t make it.

  Dunham came down the stairs with his escort, Nick. He glanced at the wounded, then came straight to her. “Any word?”

  “They took the station. Out to house to house,” Bridget reported.

  Nick grunted. “We’ll be mopping that up for days. Any word on Washburn?”

  She shook her head.

  Nick looked around and called over one of the Rovers. “Everett, surprised to see you here.”

  Bridget looked him over. A tall man, broad shouldered with a faint scent of horses about him.

  “Just transporting the wounded,” he told Nick before giving them all a polite nod.

  “Have you heard anything about Washburn?”

  Everett’s mouth turned down like he’d bitten into a wormy apple. “Apparently he doesn’t lead his men. They’ve taken out the leaders. Just some frightened boys running around town now.”

  “Idiots,” Nick snapped. “More humans dead.”

  “What does that mean?” Bridget asked. This was the guy who had protected the biobot. She suddenly doubted him.

  “It means that when the human race is extinct, we’ll be the ones responsible.

  Chapter 55

  Humankind is hardwired to try for more—more food, more territory, more comfort. It’s a shame we aren’t similarly wired for logic.

  History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss

  THE SMELL OF ASHES and singed wood was suffocating. Wisp crept along a fence line of charcoal stumps. This part of Clarkeston had been hard hit by the wildfire. Every house on the block had been reduced to stone foundations and fireplaces. Regardless of how carefully he placed his feet, puffs of ashes rose around him.

  There were people nearby. None of them felt familiar. Martin had sent most of the Rovers out into the town. The Ready Team was securing the area around the train station. Wisp didn’t know all of the new Rovers, so he couldn’t tell if the people were friend or foe.

  He moved down an alley to a street choked with the remains of houses. What hadn’t burned on this block had been knocked down in the last storm. Charred wood and snapped beams lay across collapse walls creating a dangerous maze of jagged edges and unstable footing.

  A rattle of gunfire announced an altercation off to his left. Wisp reached out in that direction but didn’t know the fighters on either side. It was his job to find the stragglers. That sounded like someone had found a couple.

  He found a path through the edge of the wreckage to another street. There was nowhere safe enough for him to do a deep search, so he had to go with a shallower scan. No one was in the vicinity. He turned down a street that had been less damaged. The yards were destroyed and the houses were singed, but they looked mostly intact.

  The reek of ashes was making him feel sick. He stopped to take a drink of water. There was something off. He slipped into the shadow of a garage just as a vehicle came around the corner. It rumbled down the street in a choking cloud of ash and cinders, taking the next corner a little too fast.

  Wisp reached for his radio. It looked like reinforcements were arriving.

  Chapter 56

  After all the planning and preparation of food to make it through the winter, it’s hard to acknowledge that we can do nothing about the upcoming flu season.

  History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss

  TED WAS FINISHING A cup of tea in the cafeteria when he heard a sound that could be bad. Wishing as hard as he could, he crept to the door. It didn’t have to be a gunshot. Maybe he heard a branch break. Maybe it was the kids doing something. The front doors clanged open and heavy boots marched down the hall. His heart fell as he heard the rumbling voices. He slid down the wall, keeping out of sight until they had passed. He could still be wrong. Maybe they were just workers. Men coming back from a job.

  He peeked into the hallway, and his heart sunk even further. Three men that walked like Wisp. They were warriors. The odd bulge in the center of that one’s back was surely a gun. His heart pounded, and his hands went slick with sweat. He wasn’t a warrior. He couldn’t take them on. Think, think, think, he had to do something.

  The door from the kitchen bumped open, and he turned to see Tilly watching him. He could tell that she knew something was wrong from the sharp look in her eyes. He needed to phrase his words in a way that would let her know there was trouble, and she needed to prepare, and he didn’t want to argue about it.

  “Get your gun,” he whispered.

  And then he knew what he could do and he was running down the hall to the staircase as fast as he could. Every inch of skin on his back was twitching with the expectation of a bullet. He burst through the door and took the stairs two at a time. He had to be on time.

  JEAN TOSSED ANOTHER pair of sheets onto another cot in the infirmary when Lily skidded in the door.

  “Help, help, help!”

  “What is it, Lily?” Jean asked warily. There wasn’t a scratch on the child, but she was flushed and shaky.

  “
Bad men took Elsa!”

  Jean patted the solid lump in her pocket. “Where?”

  “By the classrooms. We won’t let them take her!” Lily stamped her foot before dashing back into the hall.

  Jean marched out the door with a sense of strength that she hadn’t felt before. When the mercenaries had killed all her friends at Riverbank, she had huddled in a corner and cried. Now she had a gun, and Martin had made sure that she knew how to use it. She jogged down the steps to the classroom level and walked out into a scene of total chaos.

  NICK WAS JUST BEGINNING to feel especially useless when the alarm sounded.

  Everett came over at a run. “That’s not Martin’s codes,” he said.

  It wasn’t church bells or siren or tugboat. A high pitched sound like an old fashioned factory whistle but in burst and pauses. “That’s an SOS.” Nick scanned the station for familiar faces but found only the medics and two Rovers.

  He spun to the visitors. “General, High Meadow’s under attack.”

  Dunham called an order, and his soldiers formed up instantly. They followed Nick’s headlong race up the stairs to the vans waiting on the street. He jumped into the driver’s seat, and the soldiers tumbled in after. He took off shouting orders to them.

  “There’s weapons in the compartments. Ammo, too. Load up. We might need to go in shooting.”

  “Rules of engagement?” Dunham asked.

  “Anybody that hurts my people gets hurt in return,” Nick snapped.

  “Non-combatants?”

  “Probably,” Nick grumbled. “They might be after the food....” Nick shook his head even as he said it. It didn’t make sense. They weren’t flanked. This was a distraction to steal something, but a costly one considering the number of wounded at the station.

  “Maybe they’re after the Fonts,” Bridget said.