Seal Two

by Sara Shanning

  “Yup, we are. You got a weapon on you?”

  ‘We.’ Not good at all. Ashar wondered if Marcus was close. Telling them he didn’t have a weapon didn’t seem like a good choice if the voice was lying. Moving slowly, he stepped in front of Carl, still seeking the source of the speaker.

  “If we wanted you dead, you’d be dead already,” the voice called.

  Ashar couldn’t deny the truth of the words. “No weapon,” he revealed.

  His eyes shot to a tall clump of ferns as they shifted. A man stepped free, followed closely by another man. Both were tall and lanky, dark-haired, and looked so similar that he was positive they were brothers.

  Regarding each other, Ashar sized them up as he was sure they were doing of the two of them. Both of the men held themselves with an air of what he could only describe as a relaxed confidence. They didn’t spark him as threatening at all.

  Decided, he stepped forward, lifting a hand. “I’m Ashar. This is Carl.”

  Both groups moved forward, met. “John and Drew. Brothers.” Their grips were firm, acceptance given with a nod.

  “Is it just the two of you?” Ashar questioned, taking a closer look at them. Both of them had hair cropped close to their heads and their jawlines were neatly trimmed. Ashar ran a hand through his own ragged beard, his gaze skimming over their dress.

  Each wore a pack and a leather belt, things tucked haphazardly through straps and in pockets. A lightweight jacket hung from one strap of John’s pack, a tail from some animal peeked from one of pockets of his belt, and a water bottle was clipped to a hook against one thigh.

  Drew was much the same, except his belt held numerous knives tucked into leather casings and had a line of small animal trophies attached to it.

  “Just the two of us,” Drew acknowledged, following his line of sight. “You like it? I think it gives off an air of ‘don’t mess with me,’ don’t you think?”

  John snorted and clipped his brother on the shoulder. “You like to think. A rabbit’s tail doesn’t exude ‘scary’, bro.”

  Ashar smiled, thinking of Irv. He didn’t have the experience of a brother, but had wondered a few times what it would be like to have one since he’d known Irv, especially since his friend favored the word ‘bro’ himself.

  “Where are you heading? We have a small camp not far from here. A few more people. You’re both welcome to join us,” he invited. If the animal souvenirs were any indication, the two men knew how to hunt, and with winter coming, the more people around them with the skill, the better.

  The brothers looked at each other, communicated without a word, and nodded. “It would be nice to have someone other than John to look at,” Drew said with a grin. “Lead the way!”

  They asked questions as they made their way back, about the group and how they had been surviving. Ashar learned that Drew was by far the more talkative of the two, easily building a rapport with him and Carl, while John mostly listened, becoming engaged only when directly interacting with his brother.

  There wasn’t much activity around the camp when they entered. Ashar assumed the family still slept, Monty was holed up, Marcus still scouting.

  Adam looked up from where he sat, wood scattered around him. “Picking up more strays?” he asked, rope in one hand, a log in the other.

  Ashar smiled at Adam, introducing the two new faces.

  “What are you building?” Drew crouched close to Adam, examining the project taking shape.

  “Well, I’m attempting a swinging log trap that we can trip if we need to. We can put them around the camp for protection.”

  “Good idea!” Drew half rose and rummaged through the various logs Adam had strewn around him. “How much rope do we have?”

  “Not much.” Adam tossed a section over. “We could make some, but we need long segments to make these work.”

  “If you’re trying to protect the camp, we have some ideas. We set traps for animals all the time.” John poked through a pile of wood and took out a few thin sturdy sticks. “We could hone the ends of these, make a spike trap.”

  Adam looked startled. “That could really hurt someone!”

  John gave him a quizzical look. “If someone is trying to harm you or your friends, the whole point is to incapacitate them so that they can’t.”

  He settled on a stump and pulled a knife free from his belt. Ashar watched him slide the blade over the end of a stick in a long smooth motion.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, settling on the stump beside John.

  “You dig a pit, bury a bunch of these in the bottom and cover it up. It’s a trap. They fall in, they’ll be hurting.”

  Ashar looked around, contemplating the area around the camp for possibilities. “I’m not sure how we would be sure none of us would end up hurt.”

  John dropped a sharpened stick and picked up another. “It’s your call. Never hurts to be prepared and have things ready. Things aren’t good out there.”

  “Have you been in the forest for awhile?” Ashar was curious about their story, about everyone's story, but it wasn’t something he felt anyone really wanted to talk about.

  “Nah, we’re Wanderers,” Drew spoke up.

  “What does that mean?” Adam asked.

  “That’s what Irv is, what they call people like him,” Ashar explained. “He wanders through what’s left of the cities and collects information and things that are useful. They aren’t settled anywhere. Drifters.”

  “If you’re going to be out here long term, you need to take stock of your supplies and think through every possibility,” John said.

  Drew nodded his agreement. “Yeah, like most others, I don’t think in the beginning we ever seriously considered that this could be a forever scenario, but now that we know more, we’ve been talking about finding a place to hunker down and set up some defensive maneuvers.”

  “So, what are you thinking?” Ashar inquired.

  “We’re hunters. Were hunters. Whatever.” Drew motioned between himself and his brother. “Not like now, in survival mode.”

  John was nodding in agreement, his hands resting lightly on his thighs, the stick and knife still, his focus contained to the conversation. “We could get some things that would make life easier. We’re willing to go on a scavenger hunt and contribute.”

  “The two of us on our own is a different scenario.” He arched his arm in a circle to indicate the cluster of shelters. “This is a purpose. Something to fight for.” He punched each fist out in front of him, like a kick boxer.

  Drew continued. “We were thinking we need a bow and arrows, a crossbow, guns.” He mimicked pulling a bow back as he spoke. “For a group, even a small group, it’s going to get harder to eat when the berries and plants are gone, so you have to think bigger.”

  “Bigger?” Ashar asked. They’d been in the camp five minutes and were already talking like they’d been there for awhile. Seeing the big picture. Irv had taught him to use the traps and snares, and that was the extent of his hunting skills. If Irv knew more, there hadn’t been a reason to teach him.

  It was probable that if the brothers did leave for the supplies they were talking about, Irv would go with them. He didn’t like the emotions being dredged up at the thought of Irv leaving again so soon. If it was as bad as Irv said, then it was possible none of them would return and he was still worried about his friend.

  “Deer,” John explained. “You take down a deer and it’s enough to feed people for awhile.”

  Drew was bobbing his head. “You get more than meat from a deer too. Blankets from the fur for pallets, helps keep the cold from the ground from seeping into your body. To make clothing. You can also make all kinds of useful survival things from parts of a deer too. Sewing thread, a string for a bow, tallow for candles, fishing bait.”

  This was all news to Ashar. He hadn’t been aware of the many uses.

  “It’s a good thought,” he admitted. “But isn’t a whole deer too much meat? I’d hate to see what’s
left after we eat spoil.”

  “You smoke it,” John countered. “Turn it into jerky. Jerky can last up to three months and it’s all protein, so if you run out of food, it could be exactly what you need to stay alive.”

  “I like jerky,” Carl interjected.

  Ashar ignored him. “How would we store it?” Ashar didn’t think that the brothers had thought this through. They didn’t have access to the things hunters normally would have available.

  Drew jumped up, and began pacing excitedly. “We’ve thought this out! There’s been lots of time to discuss survival strategy since the war started. See, we dig a hole in the ground, use wood to line it.” With his hands he imitated whatever he was seeing in his head. The act of lining a hole, sliding in pieces of wood. “Then, we use one of the hides to cover it, place boards over that, and then rocks.”

  John was nodding in agreement again. “It’ll be the perfect time of year soon. The ground will be cold. We could bury it, and when the ground freezes, well, so does the meat. So the wood creates a box without needing nails we don’t have. Ground freezer!”

  Ashar could picture exactly what they were describing. “It’s kind of genius!” he acknowledged.

  “Yeah!” Drew exclaimed, smiling widely like he agreed.

  “You have to think like the pioneers. What they did to survive before there were things like electricity and all of the technological advancements.” John gathered his pile of sharpened sticks and carried them over to set them beside the kitchen slab.

  Patrick emerged with his family behind him, a scowl erupting the moment he spied the brothers. Chloe pushed past him, marching to stand in front of Ashar and placing her hands on her hips. “We can’t just take on whoever you come across!” she exclaimed irritably. “We eat enough tasteless plants as it is! There was nothing wrong with our group just how it was!”

  Carl waved a hand up and down at her. “Some people can make things easier for us, Chloe! Stop being dramatic, we’re making a plan here.”

  Chloe squinted at Carl, her nose wrinkled, mouth open. “Always the optimistic one, aren’t you?” she snapped. “Are they going to magically supply us with a grocery store, a stove and a refrigerator? That would make things easier for us.”

  Heaving a sigh, Carl spoke up and ignored her. “What other things do we need to think about? When it does snow, we aren’t going to be warm enough, are we?”

  “Probably we’ll freeze to death.” Chloe’s comment was delivered with head shifting and eye blinking. Ashar choked back a laugh. It was obvious Chloe had not awakened from her nap in a good mood.

  “Mommy, I don’t want to freeze to death!” Kate ran forward to tug at her mother’s shirt hem, tears welling in her frightened eyes.

  “If she’s gonna start crying, take her somewhere else. I’m hungry.” Monty stood just outside the circle of stumps, his hair standing in clumps, the same scowling discontent on his face that he wore like his frumpy clothing.

  “No one is going to freeze to death, Kate.” Patrick gathered his daughter up in his arms and hugged her close. “What plan?” he asked.

  “Long-term supplies,” Ashar explained. “Warm clothing, hunting… tools?” He looked at John for confirmation at his word choice. John grinned and shook his head.

  Carl lifted a foot. “Shoes. Good ones.”

  “I’ll take earplugs.” Monty scowled at Kate, who hid her face in Patrick’s shoulder.

  Mariah appeared, silently joined the group, her eyes appraising Drew and John curiously.

  “I’ll want to talk to Irv. This is my first winter in the outdoors too.” They were going to need more shelters too. Their group had gotten larger quickly.

  “That’s encouraging,” Monty muttered irritably.

  Mariah crossed her arms. “Enough, Monty. Ashar has been doing just fine, and he knows far more than you. Hold your tongue and try to learn something. Bitterness will get you nowhere.”

  Monty responded by stomping off.

  “Something wrong with that boy?” Marcus stepped into the assembly, looking after Monty. He set down a bag that was bulging at the sides. “Walnuts.”

  “He’s hurting, Mariah. Let the kid be,” Patrick admonished.

  “Aren’t we all?” Mariah demanded staunchly. She rolled her shoulders back, tilted her chin up and narrowed her eyes at Patrick. She looked like she was about to challenge him, but with an abrupt shake of her head, she faced Ashar, holding out her hand to offer him back his Bible. “I don’t know what you were reading from earlier, but I read a lot from Matthew.”

  The familiar feel of the book in his hand soothed Ashar. “Matthew is a good book to read.”

  “I had a son named Matthew, so it felt right. Do you believe all of it?”

  Another tidbit of information he hadn’t known. He wanted to ask her more about her son, but was afraid of the grief the question might bring. Saving it for another time, he answered her question. “Yes, I do. Every word.” He did, now, more than ever.

  “A lot of it doesn’t seem to make sense to me, but it says to watch for Him, to be ready, or I’ll suffer forever. Did I read it right?”

  Slowly, Ashar nodded. “Yes. He is coming back for all those who believe in Him, and I believe that is soon.” He paused, the weight of words from the book in his hand pressing on his soul.

  A slow slide of cold went through him. Words in the last chapter of the book came back to him. Prophecies about the end. His breath held. His bones seared hot on his back. Ashar twitched, shifting his shoulder bones at the unfamiliar heat. A heaviness filled him and gathered in his stomach.

  His eyes slid between those around him, settled back on Mariah. “It talks about this.” Ashar lifted the book, stared at it. “War, suffering.” He was thinking too much. He needed to find a quiet place to read through the chapter he was thinking of again.

  “Or it’s just a war and not some prophecy coming to life,” Marcus suggested. “War happens. You’re reading too much into nothing.”

  Ashar didn’t know Marcus well enough to feel comfortable confronting his response. Irv had told him of a military background. War would be something Marcus was familiar with, something that had helped to shape his view of the world and life as a whole.

  “Well, wait,” Carl said, holding up a palm in Marcus’s direction. “What is Mariah talking about? I want to know. I’ve had enough suffering already.”

  All eyes turned to Ashar. He could feel himself trembling. Was it possible? His small faith battled doubt.

  What if it was? What if Revelation was happening around them right now? What if they all died and he told them nothing? If eternity, if salvation was all that was left, could he deny them? The heat was still humming like fire along the bones on his back. Telling him what his mind sought.

  “God says if you believe in Him and that He died and rose again for your sins, that if you ask Him to forgive you for those sins, then you will live with Him in heaven for all of eternity.” Ashar said the words in a rush. “If you don’t choose Him, you are doomed for an eternity in hell, which is ruled by darkness. No light, no hope, no relief.”

  His mind scrambled back over the words he had just said. Tried to grasp if he had said enough or too much, or left anything important out. Marcus had a sneer on his face, but Mariah, Carl and Adam were all attentive. There was a yearning on Mariah’s face that touched his heart. His heart was scrambling. He felt stupid.

  Mariah dropped to her knees in front of him. “What if He doesn’t forgive everything? What then?” Pain gleamed in her eyes. She held her hands out, palms up, as though if he had something tangible to give her, she would be ready.

  Ashar stared at her upturned hands. He didn’t have the words. His fingers pressed tight around the Bible. God did. “‘Whosoever believes in me, shall not perish, but have everlasting life.’” He opened the pages of the Bible to John 3:16 and held the book out to Mariah. She accepted it into her waiting hands, turning it to read greedily, tears beginning to fall.
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br />   He saw it on her face. The revelation, the joy, the acceptance. The lines on her face smoothed, her eyes brightened, her lips moved as she read it again. It was beautiful. His bones burned. Awe struck deep.

  “Can I read it too?” Carl asked, his voice hovering above a whisper.

  A glance at him and Ashar saw the same hunger he had seen in Mariah.

  Mariah lifted her head, her eyes sparkling as she offered the book. “Can we add another bible to our supply list? I want to read more!”

  Ashar looked at Chloe, at Patrick. At the disapproval on Marcus’s face. Adam, with his intelligent eyes, the wheels all but visible as they turned in his head. Were any of them feeling God move in their hearts? He was feeling overwhelmed.

  Mariah rose, swiping at a tear on her cheek. She smiled up at the trees, at Chloe and Patrick and the kids. “Adam!” Mariah reached out a hand to him. “You should read this after Carl is done! I actually feel different!”

  Adam shook his head and rubbed his hands on his jeans. “Um, not tonight. I’ll let you two read from it, okay?”

  Mariah and Carl didn’t argue. Carl was reading more of the page in front of him. The heat was gone from his bones.

  Ashar went to check on Irv, easing his door open and stepping inside. He knelt beside Irv. “Hey, you okay?” He touched his friend’s shoulder.

  Irv stirred a bit, his eyes parting. He pushed back his hair as he rose to an elbow. “I’m so tired.”

  “You okay, Irv?” Ashar repeated.

  “I just need to find myself again. I need some more time.” Weariness pulled at his eyes, his movements were sluggish.

  Ashar put a hand on Irv's shoulder. “We’ll talk in the morning. Get some more rest.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  In the morning, Ashar found Irv at the bank of the lake, a line cast out and floating undisturbed in the water. Ash cast the line he had brought, in no hurry to push Irv into talking.