Surviving For Humanity (Book 4): Tides of Humanity

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Surviving For Humanity (Book 4): Tides of Humanity Page 2

by Nelson, Kip


  He pulled a chair away from Jessica's desk and spun it into the middle of the room, facing Anthony. It was a fairly typical girl’s room, but Tillman did notice a sleeping bag had been laid out on the floor. It made him smile to think the two of them had been respecting the rules of the house and each other by not sleeping in the same bed. It gave him confidence to know that, despite the carnage caused by Javier, the family still had managed to raise Jessica to be sensible, and to be a good judge of character.

  “Have you ever read any Greek literature, like The Iliad or The Odyssey? The warriors there are weeping all the time, and I'm not sure you'd find any finer example of manhood in any other form of literature,” Tillman continued. Anthony shook his head, and then coughed to clear his throat. His eyes were raw and they glistened with a sheen of sorrow.

  “Looking at that photo album brought back memories of your parents, didn't it?” Tillman said. Anthony nodded. Tillman remained silent, waiting for Anthony to talk.

  “Things have been so crazy around here I haven't really been able to think about it properly, and now I wish things still were crazy. Now that they're settling down I just can't stop thinking about them. They're out there, somewhere, probably dead, but they might still be alive, and I just feel so powerless. What am I supposed to do?”

  Tillman paused before he answered. He remembered feeling exactly as Anthony did, although to a lesser extent, since he never had undergone a tragedy like this in his youth.

  “You know, I remember a time when I felt powerless as well. I was about your age, and the teachers at school were trying to prepare us for our life after school. But any time I thought about the future I felt so uneasy. I knew what I wanted to do with my life, but I didn't know how I was going to get there. Pretty much anyone I talked to told me I should try getting a solid foundation of a career first, so I could fall back on something else if gaming didn't work out. And even though I knew what I wanted to do, it felt as though I wasn't able to put my plans in motion. I haven't felt that way in years, but it happened again, the night this world fell apart. I looked around and all I could think was, 'What the hell am I going to do?'”

  “How do you cope with it?” Anthony asked, sniffing deeply.

  “I try putting things into two categories. The things I can control, and the things I can't. I try to worry about the former, and let go of the latter. It's never quite that simple, but the grounding gives me confidence. It reminds me there are things in this world I can control.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like my reactions to things. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I'm assuming at the moment that you are feeling helpless because you don't think there's anything you can do for your parents?” Anthony nodded, so Tillman continued. “That's not precisely true. You do have a few options, but it's important you find peace with your choice. Otherwise, it's going to tear you apart.”

  “I have been thinking I should go looking for them,” Anthony said. He wiped his eyes again, and this time he seemed to be calmer.

  “But?”

  “I think about Jessica and all you here, and I know that I'm safe here. But then I feel guilty because my parents are out there somewhere, and I'm supposed to be going to save them. I'm their son. I should do what you did and find them.”

  “The difference between me and you is I knew where my parents would be. Now, if you do decide to go out into the wild and find them, I'm sure everyone here will back you up. But I'm not sure any of us will allow Jessica to go with you. I'd rather that argument didn't happen because there's no way Morelle or my parents would be happy with that. But there's concern for your safety as well. How much do you know about surviving in the wild? Do you know how to build a fire? Which berries are safe to eat? How to kill and skin an animal?”

  Tillman's questions all were met with a blank stare, and then Anthony simply hung his head.

  “I just feel like I should be doing something to help them,” Anthony said.

  “I know. It's hard when people we love are suffering and there's nothing we can do about it. I don't know your parents but given the kind of man you are I can tell they were good people. I'm sure above all else they'd want you to be safe. I also imagine they feel the same way about you, and they'll be trying their hardest to get back to you. If you leave now, you might miss them when they return.”

  Anthony smirked grimly. “That's the first time anyone ever has called me a man,” he said.

  “Well, it's true. We all have to grow up a little more quickly than we'd like. That was true as much in the old world as it is in this one. I'm impressed with the way you've conducted yourself.”

  “I just don't want to be a coward.”

  “Just because you choose not to do something dangerous doesn't make you a coward. If you leave, there's no guarantee you'll even find your parents, let alone help them. I know that's hard to handle, and I wish it could be different. I wish I could tell you something else, but that's the cold hard truth. And the thing is, there are people around here who need your help. This place will need people like you if it is going to thrive. I even could see you being a leader one day. You and Jessica are the future of this community. I'm just trying to get the foundations in place so you two have fewer things to worry about,” Tillman said with a grin.

  Anthony's brow creased as he thought about Tillman's words.

  “Do you really think so?”

  “I do.”

  “I've never thought of myself in that way before.”

  “Now is the time when you should start thinking about yourself a little more differently. Think of it like playing a game. At the beginning you're never the same as when you end. This is you gaining experience and leveling up.”

  Anthony's face lit up at the thought. He'd never considered it from that perspective. But the grin quickly faded.

  “I just wish there was something I could do to help them...”

  “I know,” Tillman replied in a somber tone. “There are people out there I wish I could help as well, but we never get to do everything we want. There are people here we can help, though, and there's lots to be done. I'm going to need your help. Because there are a lot of plans we need to think about.”

  “Shouldn't we wait for the votes to be counted before we think about them?”

  “There's no harm in planning. Believe me, any leader is going to appreciate other people doing their work for them. It'll help take your mind off things as well.”

  Anthony nodded and wiped his face a final time. Then he stretched out his limbs and moved his head from side to side. Tillman was glad to see he wasn't letting himself surrender to the pain in his heart. That steely resolve was the pride of humanity, and it was the quality that was going to see them thrive. It would have been easy for everyone to shut themselves away and wallow in their misery, to weep through the days until they withered and died. But no, people were stronger than that, more determined. They were going to fight until their last breath, fight to see the dawning of a new day.

  “What have you got in mind?” Anthony asked, leaning forward.

  “One of the most important things is going to be fresh water. We've been lucky so far, but soon enough we're going to choke the taps dry. Food we should be able to manage by hunting wild animals, although we might have to eat a few things we wouldn't find at the grocery store. Water is the thing we're going to have to focus on if we're going to survive. And not just for drinking. If we don't wash, we're all going to drive each other crazy with the smell.”

  Tillman meant the last part half-jokingly, and he was pleased when Anthony laughed too.

  “So, I was thinking,” Tillman continued, “we should build a road to one of the river's tributaries, the nearest one if possible. It's going to take a lot of manpower, though. I'd like your help in deciding how we go about doing this, and how what resources it's going to take. I know that we, as gamers, have a good mind for resource management. I'm going to get Penelope to help as well, since this is the kind of game she l
ikes playing the most.”

  “Isn't it strange to think of real life as a game, though?” Anthony asked.

  “Perhaps, but many principles are the same. Of course, I don't mean to say we should treat these things lightly. Then again, I never took any game lightly.”

  “You know, it wasn't too long ago that I wanted to be just like you. I wanted to compete against you and lift the trophy. I wanted to become the new Tillman Torres.”

  “You wouldn't be the first. But you should focus on being the first Anthony before you start trying to be someone else,” Tillman said, offering Anthony a reassuring smile.

  There was a soft knock at the door. Jessica was standing there.

  “I thought I'd see how you two were getting along,” she said, “and Tillman, Mom wants to see you.”

  “Things are just fine now,” Tillman said as he rose from the chair and put it back under the desk. Anthony smiled sheepishly toward Jessica. “We had a good chat, and now I'll leave him in your capable hands.”

  Jessica smiled widely as she sat beside Anthony and placed her head on his shoulder. Tillman closed the door behind him, offering them some privacy, and then he smiled. It really was like looking at a younger version of himself and Angela. He just hoped Jessica and Anthony had a happier ending.

  Tillman walked downstairs and found Morelle in the kitchen, sitting with Greg and Penelope.

  “Jessica said you wanted something?” Tillman asked.

  “Yes, I was just talking with Greg about people in the neighborhood and there's one man I think you should seek out. His name is Bobby Fox, although he prefers to be called Mr. Fox. He lives at number 38, I think. He used to be an engineer. He's someone who could be important,” she said. Tillman thanked her, and then asked Penelope if she wanted to join him. Penelope jumped at the chance.

  Chapter Three

  Tillman and Penelope walked through the neighborhood looking for number 38. Tillman couldn't remember meeting a Mr. Fox, but there were so many faces he knew that he still hadn't met. However, everyone knew about him, and everyone seemed to have an opinion about him. People turned to greet him, and most were friendly. There still was some latent hostility in some glances, though, although Tillman wasn't sure if this was because of what he had done with Khan, or because of the battle for leadership. The votes would be counted soon, and then this community could start to move fully into the future.

  “How do you deal with it, all of them looking at you like this?” Penelope said.

  Tillman shrugged. “You get used to it. I'm used to having a lot of attention on me, although I preferred it in a competition setting.”

  “So what are you going to ask this Mr. Fox about?”

  “A few things, but mostly water. I think we need to start preparing for the day when the taps run dry,” Tillman said, then stopped talking as he saw a small crowd gathered around a dark-skinned man wearing a fine suit. He had his arms out wide and was in the middle of a story.

  “...and then they lifted the lid and the pie was filled with naked people!”

  He was met with strong laughter, and then his dark eyes met Tillman's.

  “Well, it appears as though Mr. Torres here would like a few words with me, and of course I'm happy to oblige him. Please, let me give my mouth a rest, and I'll be seeing you all again real soon,” he said with a smooth voice and a twinkling smile.

  Tillman turned to Penelope and arched an eyebrow. Mr. Fox gestured for Tillman to come inside, and they followed him into his home, leaving the crowd behind.

  “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tillman. This has been a long time coming. I've been waiting to meet you. Your words were spellbinding and I have to thank you for what you did with Khan. I saw everyone running around here like little bees preparing for war, and I felt my heart sink. I wanted to protest. But I knew people were scared, and scared people don't usually listen too well, especially not to an old man like me. But everything worked out alright in the end, didn't it? Now then, what can I do you for?” he asked. Then he turned to Penelope. “And who is this pretty lady?”

  Penelope introduced herself and blushed as Mr. Fox took her hand, pressing his leathery lips to her skin. Tillman smirked.

  “I hardly think you're old, Mr. Fox, and it didn't seem as though anyone had trouble listening to you,” Tillman said.

  “Oh well, my father always used to say that if you had people's attention they couldn't get into any trouble. And I figure there's a lot of trouble people could be getting into nowadays. Did you see that barnstorming fight between Jeff and Ben this morning? Whoo-ee! They were like two pigs in a pen. I thought they were going to tear each other's hair out,” Mr. Fox said, slapping his thigh.

  “I'm glad it didn't come to that.”

  “Me too, the last thing we need after that business with Khan is a civil war here. The biggest problem with this new way of thinking is people are too ready to give up everything they learned. You've got to hold onto the important things, that's the only way we're going to survive this,” he said.

  “I can see that. So your suit is something important to you? I have to admit you're the best-dressed man I've seen in an apocalypse.”

  Mr. Fox smiled broadly. “Well, that's all about respect, you see. My daddy always said that respect is what the world is built upon, not power, not money, but respect. You ain't ever going to get anywhere if people don't respect you, and that's just as true now as it ever was. I wear this suit because it reminds me and everybody else that we don't have to live in squalor, and we don't have to forget the finer things in life.”

  “That's a good attitude to have,” Tillman said warmly. He hadn't been sure what to expect when he first saw Bobby Fox, but he quickly warmed to the man. Given the effect he had on Penelope, even though he was in his late 50s at least, Tillman was sure Mr. Fox had been quite the ladies' man in his day.

  “But I'm sure you ain't here to talk about my suits,” Mr. Fox said, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled.

  “No. No, we're not. Actually, my sister told me I should come speak to you because you might have some skills that could be of use.”

  “Ah yes, Morelle, such a sweet girl. She always came to make sure my plants were watered. We had a few good conversations, although there always was a sadness about her. Well, anyway, I'm assuming those would be my skills as an engineer?”

  “They would indeed. We're going to need a lot of things if we're going to make this community functional and provide it with everything it needs. I'm thinking at the moment we have to look at water, and creating a delivery system from a nearby tributary. Do you think that's something you can develop?”

  “Oh surely I can! It's been a while since I've done anything in that line of work, but it's just like riding a bike. I'll have some blueprints drawn up for you right away,” he said enthusiastically. But then he leaned forward and whispered in a conspiratorial tone. “But don't you think you're jumping the gun mighty quickly?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The votes haven't been counted yet, Mr. Torres. I know you have done a fine amount for these people already, but you shouldn't go assuming you're going to win,” Mr. Fox said.

  Tillman smiled and bowed his head. “I assure you I'm not doing anything of the sort. But I am trying to make sure plans are in place. We can't spend our lives waiting for a vote.”

  “No, we surely can't. But I don't think we'll have to wait much longer,” Mr. Fox said.

  Tillman had the feeling that if he didn't excuse himself, he would spend all day listening to this charismatic man. When he left he wondered if Mr. Fox was actually in the running for a leadership position himself. He certainly had plenty of charisma, and Tillman doubted there was anyone in the neighborhood who thought badly of him.

  “You don't meet someone like him every day,” Penelope said, still smiling.

  “No, he's from a lost era. That kinda charm you can't manufacture, and it's rare to see the likes of it now,” Tillman said.


  He and Penelope returned to their house while they talked about plans for the water system. Penelope had good ideas and Tillman listened to them thoughtfully. The hours passed quickly, then the silence outside was broken by a shrill whistle. Tillman and the others rushed outside to see Declan and a few others standing there. Because of his work with the Scouts, Declan had been put in charge of counting the votes. He seemed honest, and Tillman couldn't think of a better choice.

  “Thank you to all the people of this neighborhood who have taken the time to vote. We have counted them all thoroughly and we now are able to reveal who this community has picked to lead us. I will go through the roles one by one. And I hope I have no need to remind you that these people have been picked by this community. So, if you disagree with the choice, then you are in the minority.”

  His small joke was met with tittering laughter from the crowd. They all stood in hushed anticipation, their eyes glued to Declan, who read out the names one by one. Tillman noticed that a few of them had their fingers crossed. This superstition always seemed silly to him. The decision already had been reached. Nothing any of them did now would influence it. A knot of anxiety twisted in his gut, for it was only in this moment that he was able to admit to himself how much he really wanted to be a part of this leadership council.

  “I know that all of you have given this a lot of thought, and I'm sure that whoever has been voted in will do their best. So, without further ado, I'll start reading the names. For the first category we have Projects. To oversee this the people have chosen Mr. Fox.”

  There was a warm round of applause, and Tillman couldn't say he was surprised. It was a good choice as well, since he had a background in engineering.

  “Now then, for Food the people have chosen Annabelle Clayton,” Declan said. Tillman looked across the crowd as a slim woman clapped her hands to her face in shock. Tillman recognized her face, but he didn't think he had met her.

  “For Law we have Jack Parish,” Declan said. Again, no surprise. Even though he had been a medic in the army, Jack still was an imposing figure and knew discipline. Tillman wasn't sure if he'd be happy he was voted in, though. The only thing he'd shown a desire for was spending time with his wife. However, men like him usually couldn't turn away duty, and Tillman was sure Jack would do his best.

 

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