Beyond All War

by Eric Keller

  Motherly worry soaked into Morreign. Her son was still out there, under the watch of a madman and his hoard of beasts. “And he’s following Jacob?”

  Nodding somberly, Kinma said, “Yes, Harrison did everything he could to get Jacob and Griff to tell him where their home was, but they somehow managed to remain strong and refuse. Then, Harrison let Jacob escape, and we were too foolish to see his plan. Jacob, of course, came straight for here, the meanest members of the Bank easily following every step of the way. We passed Harrison a day ago. They won’t be far behind.”

  Morreign needed to remind herself that at least Jacob was alive when she had essentially presumed her son dead. This mental exercise did nothing to truly comfort her. She foolishly ignored her instincts, the same instincts that caused her to prepare to flee Thule way back before the Longest Night. Regardless, she forced herself to focus on the dire problem at hand: these monsters were coming for them, not in some hazy dream but in crystal clear reality.

  The one called Milo interjected into the silence, “On top of all that, I’ve been out on patrol with Harrison, he’s a great and patient tactician. He won’t get tricked up on defences like hastily set up trenches or fences. Unpredictable aggression by us is probably the best option, use the fact that he doesn’t know you’re expecting him.”

  Ram Bosh snarled about being ready for the heathens. Others joined in, saying they would fight to the last man to ensure that no harm came to Malden. It sounded to Morreign like the blather spewed before a football game and, without thought, she slammed her bony hand against the table. “Enough. We need a serious plan, lives are at stake. All of our lives.”

  The pep talk stopped as they all stared at her. She ignored the hurt looks of bruised egos and calmly turned again to Kinma, asking, “These men have been traveling for over a month now?”

  “Yes, but you should not think that’ll make them weaker. They survived all this time since the Bombs by pillaging and scavenging. Thirty days out on a patrol is a long time, but they’ll not be too put out by living rough. They’ll be tired and hungry, but they’ve come here for food and women so they’ll be very motivated.”

  Louisa had been standing, forgotten, in the corner. She stepped forward and softly said, “I have an idea.”

  Strange for a teenager take part in a meeting like this, but Morreign had learned Louisa was not to be underestimated. She nodded and said, “Good, I’m glad someone does. Tell us.”

  As Louisa spoke, Morreign first thought it was too fraught with risk, but then she realized they needed something risky given the odds they faced and the threads of Louisa’s idea began twisting together in Morreign’s mind, forming into a plausible plan. In an instant she started taking inventory of the supplies they could use while envisioning the method for implementing them. When Louisa finished, Morreign looked over at Kinma, Milo and the silent man they called Taco. They all nodded. Morreign said, “I like it. It might give us the chance we need.”

  Everyone leaned forward as she began to divvy out the necessary actions.

  . . .

  Kinma listened intently to the idea. They would be giving up their location and element of surprise, but it might work. Harrison was smart though, very smart. He might see through it. Regardless, Kinma decided it was worth taking the shot since, it seemed, it was the only shot they had to take. The others, including Milo and Taco, seemed to be similarly intrigued and they easily agreed with implementing the plan.

  A lengthy discussion played out as a carefully orchestrated timeline was determined before Morreign doled out assignments and the meeting broke up. Kinma, not sure what to do, stood to follow Milo and Taco out of the lodge to help set up.

  Morreign touched her arm, coaxing her back as the others left and said, “Sorry, I know I’ve only met you, but I appreciate what you did, coming back here and it seems you probably have the clearest sense of all of this. Do you think this’ll work? Am I making a mistake by not settling in for a straight on fight when they get here? ”

  Looking into her tired face, Kinma did not think the woman was seeking approval or fake reassurance, but she genuinely wanted advice. Kinma immediately liked her, she had command of all these men but was humble enough to listen to a stranger. She answered, “In all honesty, I don’t think a fight is winnable. Everyone here seems very proud and decent but, even if they had weeks to build up defences, Harrison would still win. Basically, I picture the Bankers streaming in here at night with their rifles and killing anything that moves before we can properly react. Or, if we have time to hunker down, they’ll merely wait us out or burn us out. These are not the type of men to merely give up and go away.”

  Strangely, this got a chuckle from Morreign. “Yeah, the men here are hardworking and strong, but they’re not killers, more likely to try and shake these assholes’ hands than put an arrow in them.”

  Kinma could not help but laugh herself. “That’s not a bad thing, trust me, I’ve lived amongst very able killers for far too long.”

  “You’re right, and I shouldn’t laugh, but right now I’d trade a few kind souls for one cold-hearted sharpshooter with a decent rifle.”

  Kinma said, “Yeah, but all we got is the kindly type, and we have to play that hand.”

  “Well, we also have Sam.”

  “Right Griff mentioned him. When can I meet him?”

  “He was here, the one back in the corner with no beard.”

  Furrowing her brow, Kinma said, “I don’t recall seeing him.”

  That got a sly smile from Morreign, “That’s sort of his thing. Like in all other things at Malden, I imagine Sam will be key to us getting out of this mess.”

  “He’s our cold-hearted sharpshooter?”

  “No. Well, kind of, I suppose. He’s hard to explain, but he handles things better than most. Anyway, what about Louisa’s scheme? You think it can make enough of a difference?”

  Having heard all about Louisa from Jacob, Kinma was not surprised the witty girl he so deeply loved was the one to come up with the most viable plan. She answered, “In all honesty, I’m not sure. It’s pretty ingenious and way better than facing them straight on, that much I’m sure of. She’s a smart girl.”

  Morreign leaned back and said, “She is, I’m learning it more every day. But, you know these beasts, tell me any flaws in the idea that you see.”

  Again appreciating that the woman was willing to have her plan criticized by an outsider, Kinma said, “Harrison might be able to sniff it out. He’s not driven by emotion or even physical needs so he’ll not be easily tricked. If it looks at all like a trap, he’ll see it as a trap.”

  They discussed how to better camouflage the rouge before Morreign said, “Alright, we at least have a plan. If nothing else, that makes me feel better. We best get at it.”

  Turning to leave, Kinma noticed a sign on the wall with faded green letters, “Sychar Lodge and Resort.” Before she could catch herself, she let out a soft laugh.

  Morreign asked, “Something actually funny?”

  “Oh, sorry, I noticed the sign. Interesting to see it here.”

  Turning awkwardly in her chair, Morreign looked at the simple sign. “Really? The kids found that under the porch years ago, we think it was an old owner’s name.”

  While not raised religious, Kinma found a Bible in the first motel room her and her mother had stayed in when they moved north, and the rhythmic stories appealed to her teenaged self so she carried it with her in those early years to keep her company when she felt alone. Kinma said, “Sychar is a place in the bible. A man builds a well there, and Jesus comes along and sees a woman who he asks for a drink of water. This was strange back then, I guess men didn’t talk to women alone in the olden days. But Jesus doe
s and then he ends up teaching her about faith and hope.”

  Morreign turned back to the sign for a second before looking back to Kinma. “Interesting. Wonder if the owner’s of this place knew that.”

  Kinma shrugged and said, “Don’t know about the old owners, but the reason I laughed is because the man who built the well in the Bible, his name was Jacob. Sychar is the place of Jacob’s well, the place where a poor woman learned about faith and hope.”

  For a moment, Morreign looked at the sign as tears broke from her eyes. She stiffly moved to Kinma and hugged her as Kinma felt her own tears rise up at the simple gesture of humanity. Morreign said, “I forgot to say thank you, you did not need to come here and risk everything. Thank you. No matter what happens, you gave us a chance. You gave me hope.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-Four

  AUGUST 4, 2046

  DAY THREE THOUSAND EIGHT HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN

  Despite being unable to see anything, Jacob thought his eyes were open, but he tried to open them again anyway. Only a sheet of unbroken grey. Dead, he was obviously dead. Before he could truly contemplate that circumstance, a tiny sharp pain hit him out of the abyss.

  His ankle. A pain in his ankle. Without thought, he kicked, but something stabbed into his other leg. Pain in his calf. He kicked away at whatever was tormenting him and turned his face out of the dirt, blinking his eyes until his blurred vision finally cleared enough to see.

  Coyotes. Their muzzles low to the ground as they circled him, darting in and then backing off. Far from bold but, if Jacob didn’t move, they would get braver. All he wanted was to close his eyes, stay off his ruined feet and let his sick body sleep. His mouth felt like it was full of bitter slime, his head screamed with waves of throbbing agony, and the fever made his skin send chilling shivers throughout all his muscles. But he forced himself to move.

  Sitting up hurt immensely and dizziness nearly overwhelmed him, but the motion caused the scrawny dogs to scurry back into the underbrush. Not long ago, being surrounded by snapping coyotes might be frightening; now, after enduring the true terrors this world had to offer, he barely noticed them.

  Ignoring pain and vertigo, Jacob got to his swollen feet, and the skinny coyotes skittered away, chirping their displeasure at their meal not being dead. Silently thanking them for waking him from what might have been his last sleep, Jacob took one tortured-filled step, followed by another, and another, moving very slowly away from home, leading the danger away.

  . . .

  Fatigue pulled at Morreign, her hip angry at all the unusual activity and lack of rest. She took a deep drink of water, hoping it would refresh her. It didn’t, but she moved to the front of the Lodge’s main room regardless.

  Everyone, dressed in heavy clothes, nervously awaiting the trip, stared up at her. While many seemed to have steeled themselves, a cloud of worry filled the space, and she knew they were intensely scared because she was intensely scared.

  She forced her voice to fill the room, “I felt like this ten years ago, frightened, very frightened and unsure. We fled then, but I am calming myself with the knowledge that this is different, this is immensely different. Back then we fled through the Longest Night, knowing only vaguely if the life raft of Malden even existed and knowing we would never get to go back to our homes. Tonight, we flee again, but this time we will come back to our home, all of us and soon. Yet, I am frightened because we are facing a difficult threat but, as always, we will work together and protect one another and come back home together.”

  With that, she grabbed her pack, turned and strode out of the Lodge, trying to hide her limp and her reluctance at having to leave as she fought the urge to look behind her to make sure they were following. Thankfully, before long, others moved past her into the Clearing.

  Paul walked up beside her. “Good speech.”

  She asked, “You think?”

  “It was short and everyone followed you, so I guess it was good enough.”

  “I’ll take that. How’re you making out?”

  He shrugged. “Feeling too old and tired for fleeing, for enduring another Longest Night but managing. You?”

  “Same. Let’s not make this a ten-year tradition.”

  He took a few silent steps and then asked, “You think this’ll work?”

  “I don’t know Paul, I really don’t, but when you’ve only got one option, you take it. What do you think?”

  Without slowing, he reached over and took her hand, saying, “I like it, it is a sound plan, brilliant actually. Frankly, Mo, I think you’ve probably saved us again.”

  She squeezed his hand and replied, “It was Louisa’s idea, I only fleshed it out. I think it’ll be ok, the world can’t be that cruel, I mean, it can’t bring Jacob to our doorstep, have him go through all he went through only to have everything destroyed around us. The world wouldn’t do that to him, do that to us, would it?”

  Apparently deciding to avoid the question, Paul said, “Remember when we drove here how Jacob was fascinated with the winch on the truck, how he liked to flip the switch? That was all he cared about all that night while the rest of us were terrified. The whole time he was curious about how it worked.”

  She nodded, realizing Paul’s instinct to avoid the scary reality was correct this time as worrying about Jacob could not help, it would only further complicate a complex situation. She forced unfelt cheer into her tone as she said, “Yeah, he almost winched your arm off.”

  Paul said, “Yeah, Mo, he does not give in to fear like other people. He’ll be ok, he’s smart and tough and will not give up on finding a way through all of this. I think we’ll see him again.”

  Listening to her instincts, Morreign realized she agreed, and she felt slightly better as she softly said, “I think so too.”

  They walked in silence, Morreign focussing on each step instead of thinking of what would soon be occurring behind them. When they got to the creek, she said to Paul, “You need to circle back.”

  He stopped, and they looked at each other. “Take care of yourself.”

  “You too. I mean it, Paul, take care of yourself. I cannot lose you.”

  Paul nodded with a seriousness that looked odd on him before he jogged off, displaying that a hint of his juvenile, peppy gait was still present after all these hard years.

  . . .

  Harrison only sent out three scouts to get the lay of the land, and he ordered them to keep their distance from the settlement. Normally, he could trust his men to be smart enough not to be seen and ruin the element of surprise but, after thirty days in the woods, he was worried they might try to sneak in on their own to get a better look or even to steal a taste ahead of the others. Plus, he had done his own surveillance and what he saw made him even more confident as there appeared to be no guards, dogs or defenses. Not much scouting was needed, it would be a simple, multiple-front storm and conquer attack.

  Set up a mile from the settlement, well hidden by the thick pine trees, the men were trying to stay quiet as they cleaned rifles, sharpened blades and use charcoal to blacken their skin. Would be normal to expect some nervous energy but the Bankers were all blood-tested, so Harrison only sensed excitement at obtaining the prize with no worry over the battle. As he watched them calmly joke with each other, Harrison realized this was the reason for all the cruelty and violence, for the intensity of his leadership.

  Because his group was so hardened they would be able to easily conquer these much softer survivors and take what they deserved as the apex of the remnants of mankind. Having proven they were the fittest, they would then establish a society of strong people which would be able to flourish and grow outside the bounds of Thule. This was how natural selection was meant to work, this
was how evolution was meant to work. And he would be at the head of it all.

  Suddenly, Harrison’s usual patience started to wane. He wanted to move now. He wanted to finish what he started ten years ago. He checked the sun. It hovered on the treetops. Waiting until the middle of the night was not needed. Two hours. He could wait two hours.

  He stepped amongst the cluster of men and calmly said, “Two more hours. Two more hours and our ordeals of the last ten years will be completed and rewarded. We will take on our rightful role of the rebuilders of a better mankind.”

  . . .

  Sam stepped out of the bushes. While Kinma had been told he could move silently in the woods, his sudden arrival shocked her. The group, ten men and six women, plus her, Milo and Taco, all gathered around as Paul asked Sam, “Anything?”

  “They’ve crossed the river and are camped a mile to the east. Getting ready to attack.”

  Kinma asked, “Anyone see you?”

  Sam merely looked at her with cold eyes, silence his only answer to the apparently foolish question.

  Paul asked, “Jacob with them?”

  Sam shook his head.

  He then silently slipped back into the undergrowth, instantly disappearing. Paul, with too much nervousness in his voice, said, “Ok, well, we knew this was coming. At least it will be over and done with tonight.”

  The others nodded and returned to their uneasy waiting in the dim light. Feeling the tension, Kinma decided they might benefit from some distracting conversation so, in a low voice, she asked, “What’s the deal with Sam?”

  Paul scoffed slightly. “Yeah, you might say he lacks social skills, but he made this wilderness his home long before we got here. I can’t even come close to being able to count the number of ways having him here allowed us to survive.”