“I was actually looking to see if you needed us to run the pumps, but no one was here. That early lunch is going to take some getting used to.”
“We would’ve been here if that Sentry hadn't reminded us about the meal change.”
“That one?” He pointed toward the observation post, and Lana turned to look. “Do you know him?”
“No. Why?”
“Nothing...”
The Sentry was now walking the perimeter of the school's roof. A rifle slung across his shoulder as he moved toward a second outpost. He stopped and removed a pair of binoculars, glassing over the tree-filled hills. His head shook, seemingly disappointed there wasn't anything more to do than harass the residents and shift about along the roof. I could do that job. Doesn't seem like it's that difficult.
“Xavier?” She waved her hand in front of his face.
“I'm sorry, what were you saying?”
“I didn't say anything other than your name.” Lana gave him a look, indicating that their conversation was over. “Let me check on the wat—”
“Are you in charge of all of this?” Xavier asked, even though he already knew the answer. “I mean like the food, animals, everything?”
“Yeah. It can be quite a lot.”
“I bet.”
“Hey, why don't you go ahead and grab a couple of tomatoes for you and Grant? I'm going to go check on the water levels and see what we need done.”
Xavier worked his eyes over the massive growth of green foliage punctuated with red tomatoes. Their vines crawled all along the monkey bars, swing sets, and jungle gym. The playground equipment had originally been planned for deconstruction, but Grant's deceased wife thought better of it. Her concept of growing up instead of out had proved more efficient and led to an expansive scaffolding project that had yet to be completed. Soon, the entire interior wall would be lined with tomatoes.
He found a tomato he liked and twisted it from its truss. This treat—the whole thing just for him—was a rare occasion. Most produce was used in stews, sauces, and soups to spread the servings, but not this one. This one would be enjoyed on an individual basis.
It gave, just slightly, between his thumb and fingers as he squeezed. His mouth opened, and his teeth pierced through its red skin. Xavier continued to chew through its flesh while searching for another one just for Grant. He unrolled his shirt sleeves and wiped the trickle of tomato juice from his face. This one looks good. He tucked the tomato for Grant into his cargo pants pocket and looked back to his, but unfortunately it was finished.
“That was delicious,” he said, as he joined Lana by the reservoir tanks. “Thanks.”
“You're welcome.” She pointed to his chin. “You still have a bit on your face.”
Xavier wiped his mouth again.
“There you go. Looking good.”
“What's the plan for these?” He pointed to the water tanks.
Lana put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “I really wanted to hold off, but it’s been too long. We still have several days’ worth, but some of the general use tanks are looking much worse.”
“Yeah, no, I get it.” Xavier nodded to her. “There's no way to predict the weather, so I'll take care of it. It won't take long.”
She sighed. “I'll feel a lot better seeing them full.”
…
Xavier worked his way back through the school and into the maintenance room. The shop was empty except for the stinging smell of gasoline and solvents that accosted him as he entered. He took the tomato from his pocket and set it on Grant's plate. It wouldn't be possible that Grant would miss the vivid red orb against the surrounding space of black and white—the color hidden by layers of grease.
A thick wooden workbench along the back wall endured the weight of unfinished projects and repairs. The shelving underneath was littered with scrap metal, screws, and whatever other grime settled there. At one point, the floors had been white, or at least close to it, but what point was there to trying anymore? A taupe floor worked just as well. A film of lubricants and dust caked the windows—shielding the room from most natural light. He pushed them open to let some fresh air into the room. Much better.
The generator best suited for the river pumps was unavailable. It sat on a side table, completely open and exposed, clearly in the middle of an in-depth tune-up. Xavier slid it toward him to examine its specifications. He needed a qualified substitute. As he read the placard, he noticed a droplet of blood on the edge of the table. Then one on its leg. And then a few on the floor. I guess Grant’s cut really wasn't all that bad.
Xavier grabbed a hand cart and led it to the spare generators. He looked them over for what he needed and found a red and black Honda that would suffice. It was heavy. Or at least it was for a teenager without a decent meal in months. He picked up one end and then the other, shimmying it onto the bed of the cart. A few gas cans sat nearby, and Xavier picked one, swiveling the can by its handle—the gasoline inside crashed from wall to wall. “That should be enough,” he said, and he placed it next to the generator. He grabbed his tool bag and pulled the cart through the double doors—back into the heat.
From the top of the hill, just barely over the wall, he could see the Ohio River. It was calmer today than most others—still flowing through the Midwest with its usual brown color. The hills and forests of Kentucky teetered on the edge of the opposite bank, leaning over the river, observing him as he worked. Xavier had wasted hours of work over the past year imagining himself wandering the land. Someday…
He hustled the hand truck down the hill along a dirt path that sliced through the tall grasses. The cart thundered toward the riverbank as it shook over the unevenness of the ground beneath it. He parked it on a concrete slab and chocked the wheels with a nearby river stone.
The water pumps were parallel to one another, secured to a stout wooden platform constructed just beyond the sand of the bank. Large tubes of PVC fed the pumps all the water they could handle from the river.
With the ground cable connected to the generator, he unrolled the opposite end up the hill, dragging it through the overgrown lawn searching for the ground rod. A strong wind moved across the tops of the green blades, shuffling them about. The pink flagging tape marking the rod was finally visible. He wriggled the cable into the clamp. The bolt rotated, tighter and tighter as Xavier spun his wrench. He then connected the water pumps to the generator and poured the gasoline into its tank—just enough, nothing more.
The generator began to purr while Xavier monitored its gauges momentarily before allowing the pumps to do their job. The PVC pipes jolted from the initial pressure as the water began flowing up and over the rear wall of the school. A complex system of pipes invaded the rooftop like ivy, spreading to all corners, distributing the water to the town through various tanks and filters.
While waiting for the overflow basin to begin filling, he took a seat on the edge of the hand truck. He spotted an ant crawling along the concrete toward the other end.
Your life really hasn’t changed much, has it? It’s been the same as it’s always been. You have no idea how far the world has fallen. I envy you, but honestly, how could you know? You just do your job, no complaining. If you were as big as me—you’ve probably traveled miles upon miles today. I can’t do that. A hard day’s work out of you means the difference between life and death for so many others. Just one little ant. One piece of a larger machine geared for survival in this crazy world.
But still, you are just one ant. The queen wouldn't miss just one tiny ant. Another could do your job just as well. You’re replaceable. Especially you! You aren’t following orders. Clearly, you’re off track—lost—or simply horrible at being an ant. You’re no use to the colony. Here you are goofing off. You’re not helping anything. There’s no food on this concrete slab. You can’t be relied upon to ensure the survival of the others. You don't know how good you have it. You’re taking advantage of your good fortune.
Xavier zeroed in on t
he ant and brought his foot down. Its body twitched for just a moment, and then it didn't. He watched as another ant marched along the same path, passing the corpse, never even giving it pause.
The sloshing sound of water pouring into the overflow basin distracted Xavier from the ants. He powered down the pumps and the generator and loaded up the remaining equipment.
Gravity seemed to be toying with him as the wheels of the hand cart creaked back up the hill. Each tug and grunt inched the heavy load closer and closer to the school. Sweat beaded around his hairline, occasionally dripping along the features of his face. His entire body touched with pearls of sweat. His chest pumped vigorously as it tried to catch up from the labor. Finally, Xavier could rest and wipe his brow. Damn!
His uniform was soaked. A shower would be nice, but it wasn't his day to do so. He would simply have to manage with a change of clothes before heading off to eat. Or did he? A quick soak in the river just to cool off couldn't hurt anything.
He decided to go for it. His uniform lay in a heap as Xavier, eager to cleanse himself, threw it to the ground. He waded waist deep into the pool of brown water that snuck under the school's perimeter wall. His body cooled in an instant as he lowered himself below the surface. The echoes of the water passed over his ears until, of course, he had to breathe. His head surfaced. He bounced his knees while keeping his shoulders just below the water.
Xavier pushed slightly against the bottom letting his body float for a bit before submerging again. Thoughts of Sam began to run through his mind as he tried to see how long he could stay under. Sam… You didn’t deserve that. We have every right to be pissed. I can’t believe everyone just stood there. I— well, I couldn’t have helped, but… Something has to change. His lungs tightened. He gave in. The sunlight blinded him for a moment as he emerged from the water.
“Hey boy!” Grant called out while jogging down the hill toward the riverbank, keeping careful watch over his footing. A frayed bath towel hung around his neck. “Need you to dry up now! Not surprisin’ you’re goofin’ off when we gotta be somewhere! What you doin’ out here?”
“I refilled the water tanks.” Xavier ran his fingers through his hair then motioned for the towel as he stepped out from the water. “You should hop in for a second. It feels great.”
“I'm sure it does.” Grant launched the towel into Xavier’s face, briefly covering his ridiculous grin before it fell. He snatched it from the ground, shook it off, and began drying his skin.
“Thanks?”
“I'm serious.” A strange eagerness to Grant’s voice. “Let's get goin’.”
“I've never seen you in such a hurry for lunch. I got you a to—”
“It ain't lunch, boy. Quit foolin’ around and come on!”
“Alright, just give me a chance to dry off.” Xavier rubbed the worn towel over his body. “What's going on?”
“We gotta meet up with Mayor Haverty. Big plans are coming down the line, and he's gonna explain it all in his office.”
“I need to eat,” Xavier said.
“You should've gone already. What the hell were you waitin’ for?”
“I didn't go yet, because I was waiting for you. I thought you were hurt. If I had known tha—”
“Settle down.” Grant waved Xavier's concern off with his hand. “Haverty's gonna have some lunch waitin’ for us. Quit your fussin’.”
“I'm not fussing. I'm just trying to explain why I waited.”
“I hear you, just start gettin’ dried up”
“But seriously, are you all right? I saw a little bit of blood down that side table in the shop.”
“Yep. There's a reason there's a little bit of blood. I was a little bit of hurt.” Grant peeled the bandage slightly from his finger to show the stitches. “See. Nothin’ to it. A few stitches is all. Usually, I wouldn't even go. You know that. This was just a little deeper than I like.”
“Let me get my stuff on.” Xavier tossed the damp towel to Grant and collected his clothing from the ground. He brushed the debris from his uniform and pulled the sleeves back through. The sweat-soaked shirt and pants gripped Xavier's body as he slid them on. “Do I have time to get a fresh pair?”
“Nope. You made that choice now live with it.”
Xavier replaced his glasses.
“Those the ones you picked out?”
“These are the ones that work.”
“As long as you can see, they look good. Now let’s go!” Grant climbed the hill. Xavier followed. “Don't be lookin’ so down. This is excitin’ news, boy. Gonna be great.”
“How do you know?
He turned back to Xavier, a sharp grin on his face. “Just got that feelin’.”
Chapter Four
“Lemme do the talkin’,” Grant said to Xavier as they hurried down the hallway to Haverty's office. “Whatever he's gotta say will affect us both, but don't get emotional. I ain't gonna let anything crazy happen to us.”
“You don't know anything about this?”
“Nope.”
Out of all the people in the school, why us?
The very little Xavier knew about Haverty was negative. This man, who was rarely ever seen, came to River's Edge with some sort of an agenda. It seemed he was nothing more than a control mechanism aimed squarely at the lives of the people. Nothing but rule changes. “It's going to be more bad news. I just know it.”
“It's gonna be alright.” Grant patted him on the back. “Let's give it a chance. I swear even Haverty's assistant was braggin’ on it.”
“And you trust that?” Xavier asked, as he stopped in the middle of the hall.
“We ain’t got time for all this nonsense.” Grant's patience seemed to be wearing thin. “What's the matter, boy?”
“I don’t know if we should believe them or not.”
“So far, so good, in my opinion.”
Yeah, right. Xavier raised an eyebrow, clearly judging the honesty of Grant's statement.
“Okay, yeah, the food business is a little off, but that supply change ain’t gonna affect us. You got your glasses didn't you?”
“That supply change affected Sam and—”
“Sam's a hothead and prolly had it comin’. I know I wasn't there, but they got rules we gotta follow, ya know?”
“You're right.” Xavier's voice was fierce and quick. “You weren't there. So you wouldn't know. No matter what he did... them hitting him like that was stupid.”
“Calm yourself, boy,” Grant forced the words through clenched teeth. “Was he speakin’ against the S.A.?”
“I guess so.”
“They don’t tolerate that kind of stuff.”
“So you get beat?”
“Look!” Grant shot back. “They gonna open up a whole world of stuff to us. Make things easier for everyone. People just need to follow the rules, or they’ll mess the whole thing up.”
“What whole thing?”
“We haven't been attacked for awhile now. That ain't no coincidence. There's a reason for that, and it's Haverty—the Second Alliance. You ain't dumb, so don't start actin’ like it now.”
“We were doing just fine without them.”
“Tell that to Dale and my wife!” Grant shouted then lowered his voice. “I’m sure if they were still alive, they would’ve rather had that protection.”
“Yeah…” Xavier stood frozen in the hallway—his face lacking expression, his heart sinking. There had been too much loss over the years. He hadn’t meant anything. Only that he didn’t want Sam to be the next one. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re all worried about Sam, but what about the others, Xavier?” Grant paused, clearly hurting inside. He closed his eyes for a moment then started again, “I know seein’ Sam get hit like that up close had an effect on ya. I get that, but—“
“This whole thing sucks.”
“This whole thing’s our chance. Our chance that there won't ever be another Lynn or another Dale.” Grant looked him straight in the eyes. “I get you bein
’ nervous. The rules are tighter, that’s true, but I swear it’s gettin’ better.”
“So, what? We just wait? Accept all this?”
“Yep. We need to wait and see for now.”
I can't do that. Not a chance. “Okay.”
“You ready for this?” Grant leaned toward him, nodding his head, almost mocking him. “Is this little therapy session over?” Grant turned abruptly from Xavier, starting toward Haverty's office again.
“I’m sorry, but I have to know if you saw Sam when you were getting your stitches.”
“Boy, I don't know.” Grant paused midstep and briefly closed his eyes, breathing deeply before continuing his words. “Come on, what’s gotten into you? I don’t wanna be in the business of askin’ questions around here…”
Xavier stared at him.
Grant took another deep breath. “He wasn’t there, no, but I’m sure he’s fine. They prolly put him somewhere else to rest, so people ain't comin’ and goin’ all day.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Who’s side is he on? “It’s just that… this is weird. I agree they’re protecting us from others, but who’s watching out for us?” Xavier swallowed. “I mean, like, from them? They’re handling our supplies. They’re making the rules. Two meals? Every bit of our town’s hard work gathering, growing... whatever else we did.” Sam’s words clearly had an impact on Xavier’s thoughts. “We have no say now. It just doesn’t seem ri—”
“Stop!” Grant’s hand, shaped like a gun, shook in Xavier’s face. “Most everyone here’s happy to have them. They’re puttin’ their people in because they know what they’re doin’.”
Xavier wasn’t impressed.
“Okay?” Grant asked. “I’m serious. When we go in there you need to just stop, okay?”
Not going to happen. Xavier walked past Grant, purposely bumping into him. Grant turned, lunged at Xavier, and pinned him in place by the shoulder. He pulled hard to spin Xavier around, but it was resisted—shrugged off.
“Boy!” Grant scoffed.
A dull rumbling sound could be heard coming from down the hallway. A young girl pulling a wagon loaded down with books walked toward them. Grant straightened up, moving to the side, letting her pass. Xavier also gave her notice, backing up to the wall.
Almawt Virus Series (Book 2): Days Since...Xavier [Day 853] Page 5
