TRIBES

by Mia Frances

  "I don't know," he responded off-handedly, more interested in eating than talking.

  "How far was your house from Fort Drum?" she pressed.

  "Seven or eight miles maybe. But we were already on the road by the time the bomb went off.

  "How do you know that?"

  "We'd been driving five or ten minutes when we saw the flash and the Watertown station went dead."

  "You actually saw it?"

  "Yeah. You couldn't miss it. It lit up the sky behind us. Like a big, bright flashbulb going off. Mama said not to look at it. That the flash could blind us. She told us to cover our eyes. You could hear it too," he said, remembering. "There was a loud boom. Like a shotgun blast. Only a hundred times louder. It was so loud it hurt your ears. And then the wind started. It was like a hurricane. The trees were bending; branches snapping off and flying through the air. Mama stomped on the gas; she was swerving all over the road, driving like a bat out of hell. She was sobbing, screaming, and praying all at once."

  "Did you see the mushroom cloud?"

  He shook his head. "There was this huge red cloud rising in the sky, but I didn't see anything that looked like a mushroom. Then the sky got real dark. Like storm clouds were coming in. When I looked in the side mirror, the horizon behind us was red and you could see smoke rising, like everything behind us was burning."

  "Were there a lot of cars on the highway?"

  He shook his head, ""Not many. I guess everyone decided to stay put like the news guy on TV said."

  "How come you didn't?"

  "There was no place in the house where we could hide. We were living in a trailer while we waited for our new house to get built. We didn't have a basement to go to. Mama said if we wanted to live, we had to get in the car and go. Outrun it." He paused, lost in thought. "She was right. There's no way the people who stayed behind made it. We saw a few of the survivors days later. I don't know exactly where they came from, but they were hurt real bad. Covered in cuts, bruises, burns, and sores. Puke and crap on their clothes. Mama said they were dying."

  "Did you see anything set up to help the sick and injured? Any emergency shelters?"

  "No!" he snorted. "There ain't no help out there! It's every man for himself! We saw people fighting outside a drugstore in Warrensburg, slashing each other with knives over a lousy bottle of aspirin. Even if there were emergency shelters set up, there isn't anything you can do for the people that are already sick. My mother was a nurse. She said there's no cure for it. Once you get radiation poisoning…you die! You can't be worrying about anybody but yourself and your family right now. You do what you have to do to stay alive. Try to survive as best you can. For as long as you can."

  Alex stared at him, not knowing what to say. He painted such a bleak picture of the world. All he saw was a planet populated by murderous thugs. "Where'd you stay?" she asked. "You had to seek shelter somewhere. You couldn't have been out in the elements all this time."

  "We spent the first few days in a culvert under the Northway, trying to keep the worst of the fallout off us. When we came out, Mama had us wearing bandanas over our noses and mouths so we wouldn't breathe in the dust. And when we were out of the car walking around, we had to be covered head to toe, with black garbage bags so the stuff wouldn't get on our skin. I thought it was pretty dumb, but I guess it worked. Then, like I told you, they stole our car. That same day we found a smelly, old crypt, I think that's what you call it, built into the side of a hill in a cemetery beside a Methodist Church. There were six coffins in it. We stayed there a couple of nights. Broke into the church hall to look for food. Wasn't a lot there, just a couple of cans of cling peaches, some canned tomatoes, and a few bottles of salad dressing. Probably left over from a church supper or something. We would've stayed longer, but then we started hearing gunfire. We decided we'd better get out of there while we still could. After that we kept moving, slept under bridges and in storm drains when we could find them and out in the woods when we couldn't."

  "How'd you keep from freezing?" It was more than just a cold snap they'd been having. The bombs had somehow screwed up the weather, plunging them into an early winter. She remembered reading that a volcano named Krakatoa somewhere in Indonesia had erupted in the 1880s, throwing so much ash into the atmosphere that it blocked the sun and cooled the climate for a time…months. If bombs had detonated all over the world, with the resulting fire, smoke, and ash, maybe the same thing was happening now. She studied Charles and then Jasmine. Dressed as they were, without adequate shelter or, at the very least, a warm sleeping bag, there was no way they could have survived a single night of the near freezing temperatures they'd been having and lived to tell about it.

  "We huddled together. Slept in pine beds."

  "Pine beds?" she repeated.

  "Yeah. You cut the bottom branches off an evergreen tree, anything with needles, and make a mattress. Nice and thick. Then you cover yourself with more. I read about it in a book once. It's not all that comfortable, but it keeps you pretty warm."

  Pine boughs might protect a person from the cold, but they wouldn't protect them from fallout. They'd been wandering around out in the open, exposed to radiation while the levels were dangerously high if not lethal. "None of you got sick?"

  "Sure. We all got colds, but that's about it."

  "Nothing else?" she asked, unconvinced.

  "No."

  "What about the fallout. Didn't you get sick from that?" she challenged.

  He shook his head. "Nah. We had the runs and Mama and Jasmine threw up a little, but it didn't last long. I think we got sick from eating the salad dressing. All the oil," he explained. "If it had been radiation sickness or poisoning, whatever they call it, we'd probably be dead by now. I don't think we got very much fallout anyway, the wind was blowing pretty hard that day. I think it got carried east to Plattsburgh and Vermont."

  Alex nodded her head, then turned away. He was so sure they'd escaped it. The winds that swept over the Adirondacks came from the west. For years, they'd carried pollutants from smokestacks in the Midwest that produced acid rain. Now they carried something far more lethal. Perhaps the drifting fallout wasn't enough to kill them outright, not today, or even tomorrow, but 10 or 20 years from now, if they hadn't already starved, frozen to death, or stopped a bullet, would they still be alive? They were ticking time bombs. For all she knew the war might still be going on. Bombs hitting targets, annihilating everything in their path. Mushroom clouds raining down death. There was no way of knowing. She couldn't take the time to mourn the past or lament the future, the present was all that mattered. This minute. This hour. This day. "Where are you going?" she asked, wondering what would become of them.

  Charles shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know." His face looked weary. "We got this far, I guess we'll just keep going until we find a camp or something, someplace safe." He put a protective arm around his sister. "Where you headed?"

  "I've got a camp near Blue Mountain Lake; we're going there."

  "You got family waiting?"

  "No." There was a pause. "At least I don't think so."

  "Is it a good-sized village?"

  "No. Tiny. Smaller than Indian Lake."

  "Do you suppose there are shelters there for survivors?"

  "I doubt it. It's going to take time for the government to prepare and mobilize any kind of relief effort. I think it's going to be a while before help gets through to us."

  "This camp you're going to, you got food stashed there?"

  Alex shook her head.

  "How will you survive?" he asked, looking around at the other kids.

  "We'll have to live off the land until help arrives. Gather whatever wild plants we can, fish, learn to hunt."

  "Is it safe? There's lots of people roaming around these mountains who'd kill for a place to live."

  "It's remote, off by itself, three miles down an old, rutted, logging road. The closest neighbor is two and a half miles away and our property borders a huge tract of
state land. I doubt anybody even knows it's there. The road's like a cow path. It's muddy and overgrown. I don't think we'll have any problems."

  "Big place?"

  "No. Just a kitchen, living room and bedroom downstairs, and two sleeping lofts in the rafters. It's pretty primitive. There's no electricity except for two portable solar panels that we use to power the lights and refrigerator when we're there. There's no indoor plumbing. You have to haul water in from the pump outside. We used to use a one-holer..."

  "A one-holer?" he interrupted, looking confused. "What's that?"

  "An outhouse. You know, an outside toilet. But now we have a small, portable, indoor, composting toilet too."

  "Oh," Charles responded. He didn't know what a composting toilet was either, but he wasn't going to ask her and have her think him stupid. He looked around at the children. She certainly had a lot of kids. Strange, but none of them looked like her. "All these kids yours?" he asked pointedly.

  "No. They're my nieces and nephews."

  "None of them are yours?" he asked surprised. "You looking after them?" He may have misjudged her.

  Alex nodded, trying to decide whether he was simply making idle chatter or pumping her for information.

  "You know," he said, eyes brightening. "'I can shoot a bow and arrow and can make a snare. I'm a pretty good hunter; I could teach you if you want."

  Alex's gaze shifted nervously to the ground. She knew what he was thinking, but it was totally out of the question. She could hardly be sure of finding enough food to feed her own kin, let alone two more hungry mouths. She couldn't assume that kind of responsibility. They'd have to make their own way as best they could. "It's nice of you to offer, but we really have to go. We've got a lot of ground to cover before it gets dark." She rose to her feet ready to leave.

  "Could we walk with you a ways?" he pleaded. "We're going in the same direction. We wouldn't slow you down none. We'd keep up."

  "'I don't think that's a good idea,'" she stammered, fidgeting with her pack. It was an awkward moment for both of them.

  Charles looked crestfallen. He nodded, the little glimmer of hope in his eyes fading. She'd given them some food. In these tough times, he was lucky to have gotten that. She'd done her good deed for the day, now she could go on about her business without giving him and Jasmine a second thought. They meant nothing to her. Well she could damn well go, he wasn't going to beg. He didn't need her! They could get by on their own. He'd carry on just the way Mama would have wanted, looking out for Jasmine, being the man of the family.

  One by one the children got to their feet and put their packs on, though they seemed reluctant to go. Deana and Justin scowled at their aunt. How could she go off and leave them like that?

  "Good bye. I hope…" Alex stopped, unable to continue. What could she say to them? That she hoped they'd live long enough to see tomorrow? That they wouldn't freeze, or starve, or die at the hands of some half-crazed lunatic who took a liking to their clothes or thought they might have food. Alex squared her shoulders and began walking up the hill.

  Charles said nothing as he watched them go. Not even a thank you for the food. He kept swallowing hard, trying to keep from bawling. They were out here alone, with no place to hide, and no one to protect them. They had no food, no shelter, no one to care for them. How would they survive? God how he wished Mama were here! Jasmine was shivering. He put his arm around her and noticed she was crying. "Hey come on," he coaxed, forcing a weak smile. "Quit that! We don't need them. We're gonna be fine." He held her close as he blinked back tears. He was afraid.

  Alex's pace quickened as she reached the trail. She didn't dare look back, worried her resolve would weaken. She felt heartsick leaving them, but what other choice did she have? The welfare of her family had to come first! She couldn't take in every homeless stray she found on the trail.

  She couldn't be her brother's keeper! The noble platitudes she'd heard in church had no place in this terrifying dog-eat-dog world. Alex wasn't a saint, just a human being struggling to survive. Trying to do the best she could for the family that depended on her. With two more mouths to feed, the chances of any of them surviving got slimmer. But no matter how many times she told herself she was doing the right thing, Alex couldn't help feeling guilty. Turning her back on them was the same as pointing a gun at their heads and pulling the trigger.

  Morality was a muddle. Good and evil no longer existed at opposite ends of the spectrum. They melded together now, so much so that even a theologian couldn't sort out right from wrong.

  Alex sighed in resignation. She was probably going to regret this! "All right. Everybody off the trail." Deana smiled in relief and quickly began shepherding the younger members of the clan into the underbrush.

  Alex shook her head as she watched her niece. The more the merrier? Is that what she was thinking? Hardly! The girl wouldn't be smiling when she came face to face with starvation!

  With the voice of reason inside her head bemoaning her stupidity, Alex started back down the trail. Before she knew it, she was standing atop the slope, her eyes searching the trees below. Alex started down, trying to keep from falling on the loose rocks and shifting soil. She'd gone only a little way when she saw the two frightened children come out from behind the trees. They looked at once both hopeful and afraid. She grabbed ahold of a sapling to steady herself, and called out to them. "Come on. You're coming with us." What a sap! The voice inside her head berated her. Twigs snapped and cracked under their feet as they ran to her. There was a moment's uncertainty as they hesitated just beyond her reach, then, tears streaming down their faces, rushed into her welcoming arms.

  Chapter 9

  Just a little further. Her stomach was churning, muscles tense. There'd been no sign of anyone since beginning the last leg of their journey down the old logging road. The camps they'd passed had been deserted. From the highway, the road appeared to be little more than two parallel ruts leading off into the woods. If a person didn't know it existed, hidden as it was amid the trees and tall grasses, they'd pass right by without even noticing. To the observant eye, there were obvious clues to the fact that the road wasn't as desolate and uninhabited as it seemed. At the edge of the highway, 30 feet off the shoulder, stood a wooden pole, strung with a single black wire that carried electricity into the wilderness. It was a dead giveaway. She'd feared that someone might spot it and venture in to investigate; but, from the look of the Callahan and Freedman places, both only a half-mile's walk from the highway, no one had. Beyond them, the condition of the road quickly deteriorated, the ruts filled with water, flooding the low spots, making it look like a swamp. Underbrush encroaching on the sides and high weeds in the center gave it the appearance of not having been traveled in a long time. She and Matt often talked of widening the road and extending the power line…thank God they hadn't! The wire ended at Freedman's and hopefully that was as far as any strangers would go. Even if outsiders did wander in, she figured they'd quickly turn back after a mile or so, leaving Alex and her little tribe in peace.

  Once they were safely settled, Alex planned to return to the camps and look around. Since both families were from the city, one from Brooklyn, and the other from Staten Island, it seemed unlikely they'd escaped the devastation. Even if they had, they weren't here now! She intended to help herself to whatever she could use. Her neighbors would rather she have it than total strangers. At least that's what she told herself.

  Her relationship with her neighbors hadn't progressed much beyond a nodding acquaintance, Alex waving and smiling as she rode by. She didn't know a lot about them, except that Mr. Freedman fancied himself a hunter. He owned a gun, a rifle or shotgun of some sort. She'd seen him with it last fall. Up for the weekend, she'd been out searching for pine cones to make a wreath when she bumped into him. The encounter had scared the crap out of her. She'd emerged from behind a tree to find Freedman standing on the road, his gun pointed at her, ready to fire. He'd apologized profusely, explaining that he'd been out h
unting rabbits and thought from the noise, that there was a bear in the woods. Shaken, she'd returned to her cabin, vowing to stay out of the forest when the downstate menace was out and about. She hadn't forgotten the look of the weapon. Staring down that long barrel had made quite an impression on her. She wondered if the gun was still at the camp. A lot of people in the mountains kept guns, some hunted, but they were mostly used for protection and to scare off bears and raccoons. In a place where the distance to neighbors and help was measured in miles and not feet, where women and children often spent summer weekdays alone in remote locales while their men were off working in distant cities, a weapon, any weapon, provided a comforting sense of security. She'd always hated guns, was afraid of them; but now having one seemed like a necessity, the difference between being victimized or surviving. If the gun was still at the camp, she wanted to get it before someone else did.

  "We made it," Deana crowed, giving her aunt a congratulatory slap on the back for a job well done. "l can hardly believe it; we're really here."

  Alex looked at her wearily. "We're not out of the woods yet kiddo," she reminded. "It's not going to be any picnic here either. This is only a holding action; we sit and wait, and try to survive until the government gets back on its feet and starts functioning again. Sets up feeding centers and shelters and begins the rebuilding effort."

  Deana shook her head, her enthusiasm undampened. "Everything's going to be fine now; I just know it. The worst is over for us. We're safe; we've got a roof over our heads, a stove to keep us warm, and a forest full of food to eat." She paused, "It won't be long now, you'll see. We'll be able to go home."