Homecoming
A Badlands Novella
Book Two of the
Mountain Man series
by
Nathan Jones
Copyright © 2019 Nathan Jones
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The events depicted in this novel are fictional. The characters in this story are also fictional, and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is entirely unintentional.
Author's Note
After completing Homeland, I looked back and started to wonder if having a four-year gap between it and Badlands wasn't a bit abrupt. Especially when I began getting feedback from Badlands readers about how they were looking forward to seeing what happens next. Four years later is technically “next”, but I couldn't help but feel like some people who were looking forward to seeing where the story went with Tom, Kristy, and Skyler all returning to his mountain home might be disappointed with just a summary of events at the beginning of Homeland.
So I began writing Homecoming. I knew there probably wasn't enough story there for a full novel, but it works just about perfectly as a novella. While I realize it's a bit awkward to squeeze it in between Badlands and Homeland as book two in the series after the fact, and those who've already read Homeland will be jumping around in the story, I think it fits in well bridging the gap between the end of Badlands and the beginning of Homeland.
So here it is, the new Book Two of the Mountain Man series.
by Nathan Jones
POST-APOCALYPTIC
BEST LAID PLANS
Fuel
Shortage
Invasion
Reclamation
Determination
NUCLEAR WINTER
First Winter
First Spring
Chain Breakers
Going Home
Fallen City
MOUNTAIN MAN
Badlands
Homecoming
Homeland
Mountain War (upcoming)
SCIENCE FICTION
STELLAR MERGER
Boralene
Ensom (upcoming)
STAG PRIVATEERS
Last Stand
Caretakers (upcoming)
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
Author's Note
Links to books by Nathan Jones
Prologue
Final Stretch
Tom Miller had a good head for recognizing terrain he'd been through before.
Kind of an important skill, given he'd spent most of the last ten or so years since global thermonuclear war wandering the Southwest of what had once been the United States, trading and guiding convoys.
He'd roamed to every place people could live outside the fallout zones where major population centers used to be, usually desolate and inhospitable regions since those were the only places left. He'd trekked across vast tracts of barren badlands just to see what was on the other side, and gotten to know people in tiny towns, small trading hubs, and members of the trading convoys who went from place to place scrabbling to buy and sell to people struggling just to survive day to day in nineteenth-century conditions.
Tom had even learned Spanish so he could talk to folks closer to what had once been the border with Mexico, and even strayed across it from time to time to find folks living in the same harsh circumstances there.
Although considering recent events, he kind of wished he'd picked up Portuguese as well.
There'd been plenty of close calls during his travels, from facing nature's harshest extremes to being stalked by predators of the four-legged and two-legged variety. But one thing he could always say is that he'd never had trouble recognizing the landscape he passed through to retrace his steps home.
Of course, that wasn't any real feat at the moment, since the convoy he was currently leading was only a few miles away from Emery, Utah; he knew the land around here like the back of his hand.
The circumstances of the convoy were unusual, even for the world after the Ultimatum. They'd originally hired Tom on in Emery after setting out from the Utah Valley fallout zone to the north, settlers headed to a new life in Texas led by a man named Simon Randall. Apparently, an influx of trade from Central and South America was turning the area around a trading post down there called Newpost into a beacon of hope, possibly even the beginning of a new United States.
It all turned out to be a trick, though; as soon as the place started to boom, a lot of convoys in the Southwest redirecting their routes to the new trade hub, the trade from the south was replaced by bandits. Bandits who somehow had vehicles, even though the EMPs that had blanketed most of the developed world during the Ultimatum had knocked out most technology.
These invaders had swarmed across Texas, taken Newpost, and started to spread out into the nearby states, ransacking convoys and taking anyone they captured as slaves. That had been the fate of Simon's convoy as well, all but Tom, who'd been scouting at the time, and a young woman named Kristy Graham and her nine year old son Skyler, who'd been the only ones to run away at his warning while the rest of the convoy circled up to try to fight.
Simon and his people had been captured and taken away in the vehicles, leaving Tom, the young mother, and her son out in the middle of the badlands with no mounts and few supplies.
Long story short, from there Kristy had convinced Tom to lead them the rest of the way to Newpost, since they didn't know the place had been taken. She'd promised him a cache of wealth she'd left behind in northern Utah, scavenged from the Utah Valley fallout zone by her late husband Miles, who'd died of radiation poisoning.
Against his better judgment, Tom had agreed. And it had turned out to be a blessing in disguise for the people of Simon's convoy, who'd been taken back to Newpost where they were being brutally mistreated. The bandits had been planning to send them all south to live miserable lives as slaves, and Tom was able to ambush the trucks carrying them, killing the drivers and guards and freeing the imprisoned people.
From there they'd hightailed it back to Grand Junction, Colorado, and then Tom had announced he was heading back to Utah. Almost thirty people from Simon's convoy had joined him, including Kristy and Skyler and their friends the Hendricksons, and over the last few weeks, they'd pushed hard to make it to Emery.
Hopefully, to make a more successful attempt at starting new lives.
Tom was currently scouting ahead, and while he couldn't see Emery yet he was confident the rest of the distance to the town was safe. The area around here was under the protection of the place's sheriff, Parley Mitchells, who'd done a decent job over the years keeping the peace.
Satisfied with his scouting, Tom turned back for the convoy to give the good news. A few minutes later he spotted the small train of wagons, one pulled by his and Kristy's two horses and another pulled by the Hendricksons' mule, as well as several handcarts. They were winding along up the road towards him, making good time even though he wasn't there to chivvy them every step of the way.
Good people, and all the more impressive considering the hardships they'd recently endured.
As Tom approached the convoy, a woman in her late twenties broke away from the others to meet him,
long flaxen hair streaming in the wind. At her approach, he couldn't help but pause to stare like an idiot.
Kristy was, no exaggeration, one of the most exceptional women he'd ever met. Not to mention one of the prettiest; tall and slender, with eyes blue as the noonday sky and soft features just made for breaking a man's heart. She also had a fierce determination that had carried her and her son across one of the hardest trails in the Southwest.
He could honestly say he'd never met anyone like her. And the more he'd gotten to know her over that last stretch to Newpost after the bandit attack, and then on this trip back to Emery from Grand Junction, the more he'd found about her to admire.
It had to be some sort of miracle that she actually seemed to share his feelings.
“How's it looking?” she called as she came in comfortable earshot.
“Should make it there in an hour or so,” Tom replied. “Just enough time before dark for people to introduce themselves to the townspeople, then start making tentative plans for getting started on their new lives before turning in.”
Kristy gave him an admiring look, which he had to admit straightened his weary shoulders a little. “All this way, and you managed to plan the trip so we made it to our destination just about when we'd usually stop for the night?”
He chuckled. “Half planning, half luck. And, of course, half everyone pushing themselves hard every day to make good progress in spite of their previous hardships.”
“That adds up to more than one,” she pointed out wryly.
Tom nodded, sobering. “That's what happens when good people give their all for the hope of a better future . . . they do more than anyone expects.”
The flaxen-haired woman's eyes softened, and as she joined him she took his hand. “It helps when they have someone giving them reason to hope.”
That definitely put some iron in his backbone.
They made their way back to the convoy together. As they approached, Kristy's nine-year-old son Skyler, walking near his slightly younger friend Lisa Hendrickson by the wagon the two families shared, waved to them. Lisa's dad Bob was driving at the moment, while Tom didn't see her mom Vicky anywhere.
The poor woman had probably gone off for some time alone. She'd been doing that the last few days, and he supposed needing a bit of privacy every now and again was understandable after what she'd suffered in Newpost. Kristy had tried to keep her company at first, only to be gently but firmly, then simply firmly, rebuffed.
At the head of the train, probably largely to thank for keeping everyone moving at a good pace while Tom was out scouting, was Brandon Gerry, a young man of nineteen who'd been a teamster with Simon's convoy. On this trip back he'd proven to be one of the most helpful people in Tom's convoy as well, not just in terms of knowledge and skills but in terms of willingness to pitch in.
Not only that, but he'd gone a long ways towards keeping things running smoothly among the traumatized convoy members, mostly because he quietly deferred to Tom and everyone seemed to like him.
Heck, Tom couldn't help but like the young man, too.
Brandon was currently helping pull the handcart belonging to the Williamson siblings: seventeen-year-old Fiona Williamson and her thirteen-year-old brother Logan, orphans of one of the convoy members who'd died of hardship and privation in Newpost.
Rather than pull the man away from the task, Tom reluctantly freed his hand from Kristy's and went over to put his own shoulder to the back of the cart so he could chat with him. Kristy waved goodbye as she returned to their wagon to walk beside her son.
Tom nodded greetings to Brandon and the Williamsons. “We'll be there in a bit less than an hour,” he told them.
The young man looked relieved; manhandling a handcart was no easy task, as Tom knew well. “Mind if I volunteer myself to take a break from pushing go let everyone else know?” he asked.
Actually, Tom didn't mind at all; he got on well enough with everyone, but he'd been a solitary sort for over a decade now and old habits died hard, so it was always a relief to delegate speaking to the others to someone else. “Knock yourself out.”
Brandon murmured a few words to Fiona, ruffled Logan's hair affectionately, and trotted off. Which left Tom with the siblings in a somewhat uncomfortable silence; as previously stated, he was a solitary sort, while Logan seemed to hold him in tongue-tied awe and Fiona, well . . .
Fiona was a rare beauty: tall and willowy, with honey blond hair and green eyes. Not that she held a candle to Kristy, of course. Still, it was no surprise Brandon was eager to stick by her side. Although not too close, sadly, and for the same reason that made the poor girl stand out for Tom, little as he liked to contemplate it.
That was because back in Newpost, after Tom had spotted his opportunity to attack those bandit trucks and free the convoy members, the drivers had delayed their preparations to leave so they could drag Fiona into a building for unspeakable abuse. Horrific as that had been, and much as it hurt his soul for the young woman's sake, it had kept the two soldiers from driving their trucks out of the captured trading post to take the enslaved members of the convoy south, to whatever miserable life awaited them.
That had given Tom time to get in place to set up his ambush, kill the bandits, free the convoy members, steal the two trucks, and finally pick up Kristy and Skyler and drive everyone safely back to Grand Junction. The timing of events had been a godsend for all of them, and he couldn't complain.
Still, he deeply regretted he hadn't been able to spare Fiona from that last cruelty. Or what had been suffered by most of the other women in the convoy as well; they'd all been forced to endure those same horrors for weeks in Newpost.
In any case, ever since then Brandon had stayed faithfully beside the siblings, offering what comfort he could and giving space when needed. Tom hadn't noticed any signs of it before the bandits attacked, but apparently the young man had been sweet on Fiona and tentatively courting her for most of the journey from Emery.
Captivity and abuse had shattered that romance, at least until they had some serious time to heal from the mental and emotional trauma of Newpost. Tom just hoped it worked out for them; they were good kids and deserved a chance to move past what they'd experienced and find a good life for themselves.
After a minute or so of awkward silence Logan, pulling at the front with Fiona, spoke up suddenly. “Brandon said you live near here?”
Tom nodded, which was pretty useless since the kid was facing forward. He cleared his throat. “Just in those mountains up ahead. A bit over half a day's walk from Emery.”
The teenager stared forward at the foothills covered with scrub oak, rising up into slopes forested with aspen and evergreens. “Weird. It's a lot greener than the foothills east of Utah Valley, and Timpanogos and Cascade. But it's also a lot more desolate.”
“Less water, but better soil and southward facing,” Tom said, then shrugged. “Although don't take my word for it . . . like I told Kristy once, I've got the opposite of a green thumb.”
“Yeah, me too.” Logan was silent for long enough Tom had allowed himself to hope that was the end of it, before abruptly speaking again. “Is she really going to live up in the mountains with you?”
Tom stumbled in surprise, enough that the cart lurched and Fiona noticed. She glanced back at him, embarrassed. “Logan!” she hissed, surprising Tom; usually the fragile young woman didn't talk much, unless she was alone with her brother or Brandon. And always in a soft, timid voice. Now, however, she seemed like an older sister as she scolded the young teenager. “That's none of your business.”
The kid hunched his shoulders. “With Skyler and Lisa and her family, too, I mean. That's what Skyler told me. He wasn't acting like it was a secret or anything, either. What's the big deal?”
To Tom's relief, he saw Brandon heading back their way. A chance to get him out of this awkward conversation, as well as go ask Kristy what exactly her plans were once they reached Emery. Somehow, on the trip from Grand Junction, he'd never
really talked to her about it; they'd joked about all living in the mountains together before leaving the trade city, but that was it.
What exactly would it mean if Kristy wanted to come with him? That seemed like a pretty big sign that she had feelings for him. Real feelings, and plans for a real future. Did he dare assume that was even possible?
Brandon rejoined them, seeming disappointed when Tom immediately excused himself. “Just a bit longer,” he said. “Then you can finally get some rest.”
“Then I can finally start trying to eke out a living in a desert,” the young man said wryly. But he waved him away. “I got this.”
Tom nodded and headed back to the wagon, arriving at the same time as Vicky; pale and drawn, the poor woman was listlessly climbing back up onto the seat beside her husband. Tom felt bad that he hadn't been out scouting while she was gone; he usually tried to be out there between her and any danger when she went off alone, since even though he did his best to give the poor woman her privacy he still wanted to make sure nothing unfriendly was creeping up on her.
Well, hopefully any danger was well behind them at this point. He nodded to Bob as well, and ruffled Skyler's hair and waved to Lisa as he fell into step beside Kristy, who immediately reached for his hand.
He could definitely get used to that. “Ready for this trip to be over?”
“Like you wouldn't believe,” she replied. “I've had enough walking to last a lifetime.”
Tom hesitated, then mustered his courage. “Speaking of which, we never really talked about your family's and the Hendricksons' plans for when we got to Emery.”
The flaxen-haired woman gave him a surprised, slightly cautious look. “Didn't we? I, um, thought we'd talked in Grand Junction about heading up into the mountains with you. I know that's what Vicky and Bob assumed.” It was her turn to hesitate, a moment of vulnerability. “That is, if the offer's still open.”
Mountain Man (Book 2): Homecoming Page 1
