Beyond All War

by Eric Keller

  A hulking man who’d been introduced to her as Jacob’s uncle, Leo, added quietly, “Taught us all how to fish the river and how to lay traps. Hell, we’d have nothing but skinny carrots to eat the last ten years without him showing us what to do.”

  She asked, “How’d he end up out here?”

  Paul shook his head. “Not really sure. I’ve been out hunting and scavenging with him a thousand times, night after night with nothing but a campfire between us. I like to talk, my brother can attest to that.”

  Leo took his cue and said, “Came out chattering at birth according to mom.”

  “Right. At first, I tried merely asking Sam about himself but might as well be questioning a stone, a deaf and mute stone. After that, I tried being more subtle, poke around the corners, but that got me nothing. I’d tell him all about my past, hoping something would get him to speak up about himself but that was pointless, although I do like talking about myself. Eventually, though, I managed to hear part of his story.”

  At this, Leo, sounding surprised, asked, “Really? He talked about himself?”

  Paul said, “Yeah, I decided, way back then, that I’d keep it to myself, you know out of respect for Sam as I didn’t think he’d like me telling his secrets but, with what’s happening now, I think it’s ok to tell what he told me.”

  Everyone leaned in closer to hear as Paul continued, “We’d found this half-fallen down cabin. Sam said it was used by winter trappers, but it looked like no one had used it for decades. Anyway, the place was empty but, under a loose floorboard in the corner, we found someone’s emergency supplies: a package of dried beans and a jar of what I guess you’d call moonshine.”

  One of the other men chirped in, “Don’t remember you ever bringing any of that back home with ya?”

  Paul shook his head with a smile. “Nah, we decided it was too fragile to make the trip so we made use of it where we were, hunkering down in the dark cabin, passing the jar back and forth. At first, there was only the usual quiet but, then, with the strong booze working, I began reminiscing about this time I went to watch hockey as a kid with my dad in Edmonton. Don’t know why that struck me as important but that’s what came to my half-drunk mind -”

  Leo piped up, “Alright, alright, what did Sam say?”

  “With his tongue apparently loosened by the drink, Sam said, honest to God, he said ‘I used to like watching hockey’.”

  They all waited for him to continue, but Paul merely looked around, shrugged and said, “That’s it, that’s all he said.”

  They softly chided Paul for his stupid sense of humor, but the silliness served the purpose of relaxing them somewhat. As the sun sank and stars appeared in the night sky, more pleasant stories followed. Of birthday parties. Of storms weathered. Of pranks played.

  Kinma served as their main audience and listened, occasionally prodding lightly. At first, the stories made her worried. She knew each of Harrison’s beasts out there, and she knew they were not cheerfully reminiscing in preparation for battle, they were eagerly anticipating their cruelty and depravity. Morreign and Louisa’s plan should give them an advantage but they would still need to fight and, while she deeply respected all of these nice people, she did not like their chances in a fight.

  Then, as pleasant tales kept unfolding, Kinma’s worry morphed into jealousy. These scared people knew only caring families and friends working together and had never even glimpsed the depths of depravity humans unhinged from society could engage in. Hardships existed for those in Malden, but there had been no inkling of the evil she saw daily for the last ten years.

  They were actually talking about raspberry pie when she heard someone unseen say, “They’re moving.”

  Everyone startled slightly before realizing it was Sam in the shadows. Fearful tension coursed back in as they all stood, happy storytelling forgotten. Kinma slid the handmade bow. Leo gave her onto a shoulder and checked her quiver.

  As the others milled around, the very embodiment of nervousness, Milo sidled up next to her and whispered, “These guys aren’t anywhere close to ready. Someone’s gotta say something, at least make sure they’re all pointed in the same direction and won’t run at the first hint of aggression.”

  Taco looked her in the eyes and nodded in stoic agreement.

  The idea of a speech did not appeal to her, but she realized they were right. Sam seemed to be the most rigid, the most cold-hearted, perhaps if he acted properly, the others would follow him. She moved next to Sam and, trying to sound surer than she felt, said, “I don’t know you, and you don’t know me but, before we head off together into this night, I’d like to say I’ve seen your home and heard your stories. The place you’ve built, the community you’ve created is clearly worthy of protecting.

  “Where I came from, the place created by the madman roaming around out there in the dark should have been burned to the ground long, long ago. But it was not, it festered and grew and then rotted more and more, a place run and filled by inhumane monsters. And now that place has come here in force.

  “These evil men and their leader will not hesitate to shoot, stab or beat everyone here to death if that means them getting half a step closer to sex, one tiny scrap of food or half a cup of cool water. If we hesitate, if we flinch, these animals will win, and they will utterly destroy everything you’ve built and replace it with their rot.”

  For a brief second, she met Sam’s gaze in the growing silver moonlight, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking or feeling. He merely gave a curt nod, before turning to stride into the pines, silently indicating for her to follow.

  . . .

  They only brought scant supplies, leaving everything else behind to make it look like they fled on short warning. So, despite it being summer, the damp chill of the night soaked into Louisa. Blankets would have been nice, but even more, she wanted a roaring fire, as much for warmth as for the comfort of having light to push back against the dark, brooding woods which seemed full of evil. However, no one would even discuss the possibility of lighting a fire tonight.

  Louisa had tried to convince Morreign that she should go with the others and help in the fight rather than fleeing and hiding. Her request was politely denied, Morreign saying she would be good at keeping the children calm and quiet. Louisa expected the real reason was how the could not predict how she might react if Jacob was with the attackers. She could not come up with a decent argument to refute this unsaid point, so she followed Morreign’s order and fled with the others.

  Wrapping her coat tighter around her shoulders, she listened intently to the breeze like Sam taught her. No one was speaking, all conversation having dried up when the sun set. She did not know if they were scared of being heard or if they also were straining to hear distant gunshots like her, probably both. Regardless, she heard nothing but the chirping of two frogs nearby.

  Griff slipped across the space to sit down beside her. He was fiddling with the short, yellow axe, the one him, Jacob and Tina always used to play the game Louisa was too bad at to join in on. After the trio disappeared, someone had stuck it in a poplar tree beside the river to serve as an informal memorial of sorts so now the yellow paint was faded and the metal was rusty. Louisa pressed her shoulder against him to steal some warmth and comfort as she softly said, “I wish all of this would hurry up.”

  “Really?”

  The reason she wanted the night to hurry up was so she could see Jacob. She knew she should be afraid, afraid for herself and for all the others. But her main emotion was anticipatory excitement. Jacob was close, she could feel it. All she wanted was for him to be here with her and she no longer cared if this was a selfish want.

  “I don’t know, I guess I hate the waiting and not knowing.”

 
“I’m pretty happy to sit and rest and wait, frankly. I’d wait forever actually. Although, I do feel like a useless twit, this is my fault, I should be out there with them, helping.”

  Louisa could understand why Morreign wanted Griff to stay behind. He looked painfully thin and tired and weathered. In no shape to fight if it came to that. Plus, when she looked in his eyes, they seemed strangely vacant and he sounded oddly distant when he spoke, his usual mocking tone completely gone. It was unnerving seeing her friend so changed.

  Wanting to reassure him, she said, “None of this is your fault, it’s all only horrible luck, and I think you’ve been through enough horrors that you can skip out on this one. There’ll be lots to do after this is over and, if the plan doesn’t work perfectly, we’ll need your help to get us and the children out of here.”

  “Kinma, Taco, and Milo traveled all the way here too, and they went with the others to fight.”

  He had not yet told her everything about what they endured and she doubted he ever would be able to, but he had said enough for Louisa to realize it was beyond terrible. “Yeah, but they’d not gone through what you did before that. And they know these attackers, so I think Morreign wanted’em up there to provide their insight.”

  Griff, who used to love debate, gave up on the argument too easily as he merely said, “Sure, I suppose.”

  She opened her mouth to reassure him further, but she felt his breathing going slow and steady. Not sure if he actually fell asleep but he was definitely done talking. Pressing against him to steal some warmth and share some comfort, she sighed, forcing herself not to think of the pain her friend must have endured in order for him to have changed so completely. Staring into the blackness, she hoped time would heal him, bring back the coarsely funny and difficult boy she never thought she could want back so desperately.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-Five

  AUGUST 4, 2046

  DAY THREE THOUSAND EIGHT HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN

  Silence hung over the clearing. No light in the windows. No movement. Harrison knew the men wanted to rush in, but he figured caution was warranted as odd situations required caution. He made a crisp chirping noise three times, the sound carrying easily across the empty space, signaling the others to stay put.

  He stood, clicked the safety off his rifle, enjoying the once familiar sensation of being properly armed, and slipped out of the trees. Sending in someone else to survey was an option, but he wanted to see things with his own eyes. Plus, taking on the risky assignments himself always garnered respect from the men.

  Moving in behind a nearby cabin, Harrison peered inside the window. The room was gloomy but he could see the orange glow of embers in the wood stove. The dim light cast over the cramped space showed no people in the bed and dirty dishes on the table, a chair toppled over and a chess set scattered on the floor.

  He hurried to the main building, moving in a crouch to a low window. Remnants of a recent fire in a stone fireplace and, through the shadows, he could make out a long table with dishes, but he saw no people. It was not late, unbelievable a whole village would be asleep already with things left in such disarray.

  Carefully, he went to the porch and crept up the steps. No lock on the wide door so he opened it less than a crack and waited, holding his breath, expecting the barrage of an ambush but there was none. Leading with his rifle muzzle, he stepped into the lodge.

  He quickly became sure the building was empty and a familiar wave of anger rolled over him. The fireplace still warm. Food, lots of food, prepared to be eaten in short order and all of it abandoned haphazardly. These people fled recently, very recently. They had been close, within reach, and they had all got away. One of his clumsy-footed scouts must have been seen.

  His first instinct was to gather his men and track these cowards down, kill anyone able to fight back and harshly enslave the others. However, after a month of marching, the men would not take kindly to leaving warm buildings full of food to go floundering about in the dark woods. Also, there was a good chance he could be leading them straight in an arrow-filled ambush.

  Harrison walked around the barely lit room one more time and decided it would have to be enough of a reward for tonight. He stepped out onto the porch and let out a crow’s double caw to signal the eagerly waiting men that they could advance.

  . . .

  Lying on the hard ground, the cold dug into her hip like a knife. Morreign forced herself to her feet and then forced herself to take a handful of steps. She knew, if she did not walk about for a while, before long she would not be able to move at all and tonight would be extremely bad timing to come up completely lame.

  Around her, a handful of people lay or sat, wrapped in their coats. No one but the children slept as everyone waited anxiously and uncertainly. In the dark night, people were unidentifiable lumps of shadow but, as she moved among them, she realized she could correctly name each of the human lumps as she recognized the sound of their breathing.

  As she limped painfully past the shadows she knew to be Louisa and Griff huddled side by side, Louisa whispered out, “Morreign?”

  Morreign did not really want company at that moment, but the girl stood up and began moving slowly around the makeshift campsite with her.

  Louisa asked, “Can’t sleep?”

  “Trying to loosen up this damn hip. Don’t think anyone’s sleeping tonight anyhow.”

  “Griff might be but no one else is getting much rest.”

  The strikingly hollow look in Griff’s eyes had concerned Morreign. She always figured his constant joking and ridiculing hid a deeper sensitivity and, with his defence mechanism of humor beaten away, she became worried Griff would be unable to deal with all he had been through. At least, for now, the boy was so exhausted Morreign doubted he was thinking about much of anything. If they had a future, she would have to look out for his emotional wellbeing.

  “Stay close to him. Make sure he’s alright, make sure he doesn’t do anything foolish.”

  Sounding somewhat confused, Louisa said, “Sure. I will, but I don’t think he’s up for doing much of anything, foolish or otherwise. I’m sure once Jacob is back and things return to normal, he’ll be ok.”

  Morreign only hesitated slightly before saying, “Alright, but keep an eye on him anyway. Things might not go easy, things generally don’t these days.”

  . . .

  Clearly, he could not stop them, best to let it play out. Harrison moved aside to supervise as the men tore through the heaps of supplies in the main building.

  Shortly after calling them in, the well-trained men rapidly scoured the area and found nothing to kill or rape. Even in the darkness, they easily found the clear tracks of a mass of people recently fleeing away, moving away from the river, further into the trees. Talk of chasing the cowards down, mainly to take women, ended when Harrison raised the likelihood of them being ambushed in the blackness. Their easily distracted attention then shifted to the copious amounts of food. Tonight they would gorge and, at first light, they would chase down their prey.

  There were only some brief squabbles over the best of the fare but, with more than enough for everyone, the minor arguments did not escalate far. Harrison usually followed the dictum that leaders ate last when on patrol but, given all the excess, he filled a plate and took a spot in the middle of the table as those nearby clapped him on the back. Harrison decided he deserved to, for once, greedily eat his fill and, when he was done, he would take his leave from the gorging brutes and relieve a guard outside.

  . . .

  Sam led the way, deftly stepping over roots and ducking under branches Kinma could not even see. Despite having spent much of her life in the woods, she felt painfully awkward as she tried to keep up and, when he abrup
tly stopped, she nearly crashed into his back.

  Crawling the last ten feet through dewy grass, they reached the edge of the clearing beside the lodge. The windows were filled with light and people moved about inside. The predators were inside, not hunting through the woods. This was good news.

  Sam pointed to one corner, and she saw a faintly visible shadow moving outside. As she wondered how Sam picked him out, the man crossed near a window allowing her to recognize him as Young Eddie carrying a rifle as he patrolled.

  She whispered, “How many guards?”

  Sam did not answer. Time seemed to stretch on forever as she focussed on keeping her breathing regular and quiet. Eventually, Young Eddie passed the window again.

  Only one guard. It seemed wrong Harrison would be so lax. She opened her mouth to say this, but Sam pointed at the roof of a nearby cabin. Kinma strained to see and, eventually, the hint of the shape of a man crouched on the roof could be made out. A second guard in an elevated, hidden position, this was more like Harrison.

  Sam whispered, “Only two. Rest inside. You watch, I’ll get the others.”

  He slipped back into the trees to pass along the information. Kinma remained, laying on her belly, watching and listening. Her heart pounded in her chest, and a deep worry clutched at her. Despite being surrounded by violence and violent men for many years, she never actually took part in the killing until her last days at Thule. Tonight, intense bloodshed would come, and it would come because of her involvement as, without her warning, Morreign and the others might have surrendered. Likely Harrison would have done great damage to them regardless but, if this plan goes wrong, he would utterly and painfully destroy them for their defiance.

  As she laid in the grass, fighting back fear, keeping watch and waiting for the eruption of fighting, she saw light spill out into the clearing. The door of the lodge opening. The sounds of loud men filled the night air for an instant before the light and sound faded with the door closing.