There was no guard at the container Dakota went to, so she had to open the doors herself. She felt exposed, being alone in the opening. Looking outward, there was nothing to see that she hadn’t seen before, but it was still unnerving. Maybe because she knew that on a normal day, teams would be out there, opening the containers that could be reached and identifying the contents, but none of the days lately had been normal. Dakota ended up opening the container doors on either side, blocking off her view of the outside world, so that no one out there could see her. The doors would have to be closed again later, but gathering the rebar was going to take a few trips anyway.
The rebar was very long, longer than the spear she had used to kill her first zombie. It was awkward, and heavy, and she could carry only three at a time if she didn’t want to drag any of it. Not having been told what it was going to be used for, she opted not to drag it. At least the length made it easy to get down off the container wall, as she could easily prop them up against the inner side before climbing down.
The first load she carried over to the end of the first row of containers, which consisted of the container streets Blue Square on one side, and Green Plus on the other. A pair of wall guards were waiting for her.
During her training, Dakota had seen some people using hand tools to burrow holes into the massive cement pad that made up the container yard’s ground. She had been curious when she saw people doing that, wondering what they were up to, but hadn’t bothered to ask. It was clearly a task that had been organized by Bronislav, Boyle, and even Crichton, as the work had started before anyone had left. As she watched now, one piece of rebar was lifted up and slotted into the hole, which was as close to the row of containers as they could make it. It didn’t slot into the rough hole all that well. Based on the hammer and ladder nearby, the guards knew this would be the case. She imagined that once they got enough of the rebar in, one would climb up onto the container and hammer it the rest of the way home.
One of the guards saw that Dakota was just standing there. “Go on,” he said. “Go get the rest. We need one for every hole.”
Dakota saw that there were four holes along the ground, two beside each container. When she looked up, she saw another team of two waiting beside the next row. She ran off to get more rebar.
It turned out that it didn’t matter if one end was dragged along the ground, so Dakota did just that in order to haul more along at once. The work quickly tired her out, and she wished Freya and Bronislav hadn’t made her run that morning. It wasn’t their fault; they didn’t know a storm was coming, but still. Based on what Dakota overheard as she went back and forth, the storm was slow moving, but still coming straight toward them. Even on the wall, she had yet to see it. A spotter, lying flat on top of the wall’s second layer, was monitoring its progress through a pair of high-powered binoculars.
Once Dakota had outpaced the teams waiting for the rebar, she allowed herself to slow down a little. She dragged four at a time, laying them down at the end of each row, so that once one of the three teams installing them had finished with their current task, the next was ready for them. Her legs felt like lead, making climbing up and down the ladder especially difficult. She eventually figured out how many were needed in total, as more were to go in at the far end of the rows as well, and propped them all up along the inner side of the wall. She had once complained that math seemed like a useless skill, and yet she had just used some to save her having to climb the ladder needlessly. She knew a couple of people who would be amused by that fact.
One of the pieces of rebar was badly rusted, and snapped as Dakota was dragging it. She screamed, tired and frustrated and knowing it meant getting another piece down from the wall. She would get that one last. The broken piece she just left where it had snapped off, dropping the other half to join it. Another kid had been given the job of gathering up loose items like them and putting them somewhere secure. The next time she picked up a load, she checked all the rebar for rust, and set aside three that looked like they might also snap. That meant grabbing four more from above: a whole load.
By the time Dakota finished her task, it was well past her usual lunchtime, and she was starving. Dragging her feet, her arms hanging dead at her sides, she made her way to the community centre. More clouds had appeared overhead: not the black clouds of the storm, but more white wisps that were being pushed along ahead of it. She had just been able to make out the storm clouds as she grabbed the last load from the top of the wall, and understood why everyone had become so worried.
None of her friends were in the community centre, so Dakota found a table where she could eat alone. She wasn’t alone for very long, however.
“Mind if I sit here?”
Dakota told herself to remain calm about Elijah’s sudden appearance. “No, go ahead.” Her exhaustion made it easier.
“Thanks. So what do they have you doing?”
“I was carrying rebar. I just finished though, so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next yet.”
“The rebar they’re hammering in beside the containers?”
“Yeah.”
“Are they that worried the storm might move them?”
Dakota shrugged. “The end containers were actually bolted down in place, so I don’t know why they think the rebar is needed as well. What have you been doing?”
“Paddling a chicken kayak. They’re moving the chickens to one of the containers, so I’m helping them come across.”
“Sounds like not so fun.”
“I’ll say.” Elijah pulled up his sleeves to show her where a few of the chickens had scratched and pecked at him. “My ankles are worse. They did not like being put in the bottom of the kayak.”
“I didn’t expect they would.”
“At least their poop was contained down there, although it still smelled like you wouldn’t believe.”
Dakota laughed when he did. “Are they moving all the animals off the island?”
“I think so. Does that normally happen?”
“No. They must be really worried about this storm.”
“Have you been hit by bad ones before?”
“Pretty bad.” Dakota shrugged, not really knowing what he considered a bad one. “I know that people worry about a hurricane hitting us directly.”
“Hurricane?”
“Yeah, they hit along the coast from time to time. We’ve never taken a direct hit, but we’ve gotten a ton of rain from the edges of them.”
“I’ve never seen the ocean before. I don’t know much about hurricanes.”
“Really? You’ve never seen the ocean before?” As someone who had lived for five years with the horizon all around, it was strange for Dakota to think that some people had never seen it.
“I grew up inland. It wasn’t until two years ago that I had to move, and eventually joined up with Evans’ party.”
Dakota wondered why he had to move, but resisted asking. The details didn’t really matter, did they? All asking would likely do was dredge up pain. “After the storm, you should go down to the shore and see it. The ocean, I mean. I mean, technically, yeah, our bay is a part of the ocean, but it’s not the same as seeing it stretch all the way away.” Dakota stared down at her food, feeling like a moron after saying all that.
“Maybe I will,” Elijah said, his tone neither suggesting it was a good idea nor a bad one, leaving Dakota to torment herself about it.
They lapsed back into silence. Dakota thought that maybe he was thinking about his reasons for having to move. She shouldn’t have questioned him about having never seen the ocean. That was stupid of her. Eating a little faster, she hoped to get back to work sooner and forget that this awkward moment had ever happened.
“Can I comment on something I noticed while living here?” Elijah asked before Dakota could finish her meal.
“I guess.”
“You all talk with your hands a lot.” He mimed sign language as he spoke.
“Sorry.” Dakota noticed she s
igned the word as she said it. Hopefully he just thought it was a joke. “We all know sign language, more or less. I don’t know about everyone, but my age group was taught by signing while we speak, so it became a bit of a habit. I think we also keep doing it because it helps to keep those who don’t get out and use it much from losing the language.”
Elijah nodded. “I’ve been getting lessons, but I don’t know much more than numbers and a few letters right now.”
“They always start with numbers and letters. That way you can at least spell out whatever you mean, if you need to.”
“If only my spelling weren’t so atrocious, then that might be useful.” Elijah grinned to indicate that this was a joke, so Dakota laughed.
“Well, I’m done eating,” Dakota observed. “I should go find out what they want me to do next.”
“See you later.”
“Yeah, see you.”
Her meeting with Elijah had thrown her into an emotional turmoil again, so Dakota was looking forward to her next assignment to provide some distraction. No one in the community centre had a job for her, but they did tell Dakota that Bronislav could be found over by the submarine, so she headed that way. The clouds overhead had thickened while she had eaten. The sun and sky were now completely hidden by a layer of grey, that got darker toward the direction of the sea.
“Dakota, finish your task?” Bronislav asked as he spotted her walking down the dock. On the submarine, men worked to remove the plates of metal that had been used as a sort of armour for the deck. They weren’t even trying to save the bullet-riddled hulks of scrap. One dropped off with a great splash as it was cut free, and then swiftly sank. The cranes were already gone.
“All the rebar’s been delivered.” As Dakota walked, she noticed that large spools of heavy ropes and chains had been rolled out of storage. It looked like they intended to attach one end to the rebar, and maybe wrap the ropes around the fronts of the containers or over the tops, she couldn’t say.
“I’ve already asked your foster mother this, and she said it’s okay, but feel free to reject the next task I have for you.”
Dakota immediately stood up straighter. What task could Bronislav give her that she was allowed to say no to? Something dangerous?
“This dock is not a good one for the submarine to be tied alongside when the storm hits,” Bronislav explained. “We’re going to sail her out to sea, where she can hopefully dive beneath the storm and ride it out, safe from harm. Enough crew were left behind here to pilot her, but I’m asking for a few more hands to join us should we suddenly need them. We’re unlikely to, but I would feel better about it. How would you like to be my personal assistant on board?”
“Me?” Dakota wasn’t sure she had heard right.
“I’ve asked some of the more mature young ones already. They’ll be assisting some others on board. Shadowing them, if you will. It could come in handy, having some more people know a thing or two about the submarine.”
Dakota stared at the sub. “And Cameron said that it’s okay?”
“You’ll likely be much safer on the submarine than you will be on land.”
“Yes. Yes, I want to assist you on the submarine.”
“Excellent. We’re still getting her ready to go, but stick close to me. I may need you to run a few messages before we depart.”
Dakota forgot all about her conversation with Elijah in an instant. This was definitely the most exciting part of the day. She was finally going to get to ride in the submarine!
16: Evans
6 Days After the Bombing
Waiting at the rendezvous point had been nerve wracking. Every time a silent one showed up, Evans wondered if it was someone from their group, or some spy that was infiltrating their numbers. At least he knew when Gerald arrived. The teenager was accompanied by two others, who were leading him with hands on his shoulders.
“Evans,” he hissed, a little more loudly than anyone would have liked.
“I’m right here,” Evans whispered back.
“Jesus, I thought they were leading me away to kill me or something.”
“You kept your mouth shut, though?”
“Yeah, yeah, I kept quiet. Pretty sure someone would have stabbed me if I hadn’t.”
“Good.”
Evans had spent the time waiting figuring out where they were, and which way would be the best to get to their destination. Thankfully, they were closer than when Evans and Gerald had first run into the silent ones, and they didn’t need to go around their territory.
“Everyone is here,” the silent one who had come to get Evans and Gerald told them once a final straggler had arrived.
“All right, let’s get going then. I want to be as far away from here as possible by the time the sun comes up.” And that was only a few hours away, as far as Evans could tell.
Evans led the way with Moe, the camels formed a neat line behind them, and the silent ones flanked the animals. Gerald stuck close to Evans, clearly not liking the idea of splitting up again.
They all walked in silence. Only Moe and the camels made the occasional noise, but nothing too loud. Evans had them follow a road for a short distance, then went overland for a while until they reached a different road. They didn’t stay on that one long, turning at the next intersection. Evans didn’t want to make it easy for anyone who might try to track them down come daylight. He deliberately took an odd route, one that didn’t lead straight toward where they wanted to go. At least not during those early hours. Once he knew that they weren’t being followed, he would choose the quickest path.
As the coming dawn began to turn the eastern horizon grey, Evans started to search for a place where they could stop and rest for a little while. He also had a few questions for the silent ones.
“What about there?” Gerald pointed ahead and a little to the west. He had been watching Evans and recognized when he started to look for a rest stop.
“It’ll do, provided the weather holds.” The place Gerald had pointed out was a rather drafty looking barn, but it was large enough to hold everyone, as well as the camels and Moe.
Evans led them across a field that had become dry and dusty. Without tilling and irrigation, it had reverted back to a patch of land that was inhospitable to most plants. Although weeds still managed to find several places to grow.
The barn was old and ill built. The boards that made up its sides weren’t flush together, and there were holes in the roof. When the sun finished rising, it would be fairly well lit. Rotten hay sat in piles in a couple of corners.
“Watch for mice, rats, and snakes,” Evans warned as they all entered. “We’ll stop here for a few hours, and then move on. I suggest you nap if you can.”
Many of the silent ones took bedrolls off the camels and lay them out on the earthen floor. A few decided to explore the barn a little, stabbing at the hay to make sure there was nothing living in it. Evans noticed that out of the eleven silent ones, three were children. Other than that, he couldn’t distinguish one from another. Considering how clean the streets were that they had lived on, Evans was a little surprised to see just how comfortable they were with the condition of the barn.
Evans himself didn’t feel very tired, and after the ether, he wasn’t sure he’d want to sleep even if he were. It wasn’t often he willingly stayed up all night and the following day, but this particular situation called for the rare exception. Gerald was perfectly happy to take a nap, but one of the other silent ones stayed awake. He couldn’t be certain, but Evans thought it might have been one of the guards who had accompanied their host. Whoever was beneath that heap of rags, they were continuing to keep an eye on Evans and Gerald. Evans didn’t mind. He would have done the same if their positions were switched.
Moe had still not adjusted to the rags on his feet, which had become dirty and torn during their walk. Seeing that he would remain uncomfortable with them, Evans took the time to remove them. He left the other rags hanging from the horse’s tack, and intended
to keep his own on. It was decent camouflage. However, once the horse’s feet were freed, he took the fur off from around his boots. His footfalls wouldn’t be as quiet, but he’d rather have traction.
The rags taken care of, Evans went on to search through the gear that had been loaded onto Moe. He was most glad to discover that his sword had been returned to him. He didn’t feel comfortable without it slung across his back. Gerald’s knife was also among their packs, which he would be happy about. Still, Evans debated withholding it from him until the kid became more comfortable with the silent ones. Even now, despite feeling comfortable enough to sleep, Gerald had set up his bedding as far away from the others as he could.
The hours passed slowly, but at least it wasn’t as silent as the cell had been. Evans listened to the birds outside sing their morning songs. A gentle breeze ruffled the weeds, and softly whistled through a few of the cracks in the barn. Moe and the camels kept moving about in the small space they had been allotted, scuffing the dirt with every footfall. Their breathing was heavier, more audible, than that of the sleeping humans. Evans stayed put after checking the gear, knowing his own footfalls might wake up the sound-sensitive silent ones, but the other person who was awake did not. He or she moved about, maintaining a constant patrol in case some critter came crawling out of the hay. Evans watched the way the silent one moved, trying to learn the secret of their stealth. The tattered rags made this difficult, since they hid and distorted the human body’s natural lines and curves, including some of the ways they moved.
“All right, it’s time to get up,” Evans eventually spoke.
The silent ones all woke up right away, some even startling upright, fearing an attack. Gerald had to be lightly shaken.
“We’ll eat, and then we’ll head out,” Evans told the group.
He watched as the silent ones picked out food from their gear upon the camels. When it looked like they were serving themselves fair to large sized portions, Evans intervened.
Survival Instinct (Book 5): Social Instinct Page 24
