Dark New World (Book 1): Dark New World

by Henry G. Foster

  Cassy returned to the roasting rabbit, which she’d been turning every so often, and thought it done enough to eat her fill; what remained, she would leave behind for the scavengers. She sliced off thin bits of rabbit and made sure each sliver was cooked, since wild rabbits often had parasites. When she had enough silvers to fill her, she ate it quickly and chased it down with water and a couple of the berries and leaves she’d foraged along the way.

  She put out the fire, tore down her lean-to, and retrieved her water bottles. She found what had to be more or less west by the sun, and headed out with renewed energy and raised spirits.

  Cassy spared a thought for what a morale raiser a simple hot meal could make, and filed that away for future reference.

  * * *

  Cassy followed the stream for what had to be miles. She knew her pace count, the number of steps it took her to go 100 yards across mostly even ground, but the terrain was far from mostly even. She guessed she had gone about four miles, but knew that was misleading because she’d kept the stream in sight as she walked and it wandered back and forth. She therefore didn’t know exactly where she was, but the stream went mostly westward and would eventually lead to a bridge, and a road. It was also the only source of water with which to refill her bottles.

  The stream swerved abruptly south, which was not at all in the right direction, and she had a choice to make. “Damn,” she said aloud, “do I cut west or keep following this, hoping it changes direction again?”

  In the end she decided it must just be going around higher ground, and kept following the stream. If it didn’t turn after a mile or two she could backtrack, but wanted fresh water available more than she wanted to save an hour of time.

  Shortly before noon, her gamble paid off when the stream swept back towards the north-west, in the direction she needed to go. With a thanks to the powers that be, Cassy cut across to her right, heading northwest, intent on shaving some distance off the travel and meeting back up with the stream a short time later. After nearly half an hour, she reached the edge of the woods along the stream and smiled at the thought that her direction sense was improving.

  And then she saw that near the stream was a mom-and-pop gas station, and that meant a road. Her little smile edged into a huge grin, and she squatted down to wait, watch and listen. “If this luck keeps up,” she muttered, “then I’ll find Jaz in there with my pack, a beer, and a bag of chocolate. Please, God, let there be chocolate.”

  Then she realized she was talking out loud, and clamped her mouth shut as she waited. And waited. But after half an hour she still saw no one and heard nothing, so she crept along the edge of cover to a position behind the store. She was about to move out in a crouching rush, when she saw a camera covering the rear of the store. By reflex she froze—anyone inside would see her on the camera. But then she nearly laughed out loud when she remembered there was no power. And just as quickly, felt sad that all she remembered that went along with the grid had come down. Just get on with it, she told herself and moved out, putting other thoughts behind her.

  Cassy reached the back of the store and saw that the rear door was closed. No lock on it, but no handle either so it must only be opened from inside. She crept along the wall of the building, around the side, and crouched when she came to the corner leading to the front of the store. She peered around and saw the station had only two pumps, neither of which was lit up of course. But rather than the huge plate glass windows of a modern gas station, there were only two moderate-sized windows on the front, and a single glass entry door. She crawled to the first window and, exposing as little of herself as possible, looked inside.

  The interior was completely ransacked. Probably everything she could eat or drink was long gone, but she decided it was worth the time to check it out anyway, just in case. She went to the second window and repeated the process, but still saw no movement inside. Only then did she feel confident going through the door, which was slightly ajar. As she looked at it, heart beating faster, she cursed herself for not taking some tactical combat classes. She was aware that doorways were terribly dangerous places to be, but didn’t know the “best” way to handle it. So, taking three deep breaths, she rushed through the door, inside, and darted to the left away from the door and counter. She then crouched and paused to listen.

  She didn’t have to wait long. “Well hey there, lady,” came a voice from the counter, and she spun in place, wishing she had come in with her gun drawn.

  Sitting behind the counter reading an adult magazine was a man who looked her over without bothering to take his hiking-boot-clad feet off the counter. He was pretty average in height and build from what Cassy could see, and wore jeans, a t-shirt, and a sheepskin jacket. Dark hair, dark eyes, average looking. She didn’t see any tattoos, which made her feel a little better. Better yet, she didn’t see any weapons pointed at her. That was a good sign...

  “I didn’t see you there, mister. Sorry for barging in.”

  “No problem. I’m just camping out here. Good shelter, lots to burn. But as you can see, there isn’t any food in here. Hell, even the dog food is gone. So’s the water, soda, and worst of all, the liquor’s gone too. There’s nothing here for you.” The man then smiled at Cassy, baring his teeth, and she didn’t think he looked friendly at all, anymore.

  “Damn. Well, I’ll be looking around for anything I can use, and then be off. I won’t look for food, scout’s honor. It’s just that I got robbed, and I need a few things. All I saved was my little pocket knife.” Because, screw this guy, he didn’t need to know she was armed.

  The man took his feet off the counter and stood from the little clerk’s chair he’d been lounging on. He picked up a backpack from behind the counter and set it next to the register. “Everything worth having that’s left here is in my bag. That makes it mine. And seeing as how you’re unarmed and all, I don’t think I’ll let you take any of it. Shove off, lady. Unless you want to earn loot some other way, it’s time you move on—and you don’t look like the kind to trade that way. My buddies will be back soon and they don’t trade at all, if you get my drift.”

  A chill went up Cassy’s spine as she recalled the scene in the Camaro, two or three days and one collapsed civilization ago. “Fine, I’ll go. But I’m not leaving without what I need, and they’re things you can spare. A map, some shoelaces, and fishing line if there’s any here.”

  The man stared at her. Finally, one corner of his mouth turned up and his eyes lost their granite focus as he seemed to come to a decision. “Yeah, fine. Maps are by the back door there, and you can look for the rest yourself, but then you need to go. I’d be quick about looking, because I really don’t want you here when my friends get back.”

  Cassy nodded and then moved quickly up and down the aisles, starting with the one in front of the window, then the others. She grabbed up six pairs of shoelaces, two BIC lighters, and came to the fishing supplies. She grabbed two packs of small hooks and a spool of line without looking at the sizes or test weight of the line. Lastly, she grabbed a map from the rack at the back of the store near the counter.

  Then her eyes fixed on the display case at the counter, which held knives of different shapes and sizes, bigger and more useful than her pocket knife. She was about to ask about them when the man’s head whipped towards the bay windows.

  “Damn, time’s up lady. Go now, or I think you won’t be leaving at all.”

  Cassy could hear the panicked edge to the man’s voice, and sprinted towards the back door praying it would open. Thankfully it did, and just as she heard the front door opening several aisles over, she pushed it slowly open just wide enough to slip out.

  “Damn, Mike, you look like you seen a ghost. What’s going on?” said someone she couldn’t see. The last thing Cassy heard as she slipped out the back was the man behind the counter saying, “No one here but us chickens, Bret.”

  She sprinted to the tree line and didn’t slow down until she was well beyond. She ducked behind a large
tree and pulled out her pistol, glanced around either side of the tree to be sure she had not been followed, and then slid panting to the ground to rest against her sheltering tree.

  She was happy to be free, but berated herself for being reckless. She should have checked more carefully before going into the gas station, damn it, and the only thing that saved her from being either captured, dead, or shooting her way out had been the fact that the man in the store was a decent guy. And, she told herself, such decent people would be getting rarer by the day now that the food was mostly gone. Even good people would do terrible things when desperate to feed their children.

  Part of her wondered just how far she would go in that situation, but she didn’t like the thoughts the question led to, so she stuffed it away and buried it inside a mental box for later. After all, she’d probably find out soon enough.

  Still, her spirits were raised. Her recent experiences with people had not been all negative, and her self-identity held strongly to the belief that she was a good person; finding other good people gave her hope that she could stay so, even in these dire straits.

  Once she caught her breath, Cassy took everything she had foraged out of their wrappings, save for the hooks, and tossed the crinkly, noisy plastic. She stuffed everything but the wrappers back into her cargo pockets, and set out for the stream again.

  It was slow going, but she guessed it to be a half hour later when she came to a large, 4-lane bridge. Her heart soared, as now she could figure out just where the hell she was and get reoriented towards her mom’s house, and her kids.

  Though she wanted to walk right up to the road, she forced herself to be calm and careful. Yet again she waited to watch and listen, but this time she also circled as far as she could from within the trees. She wanted to look at the bridge and the opposite tree line from different angles. Only when she was sure there was no one nearby did she cautiously step out from among the trees to approach the road. She saw the name of the stream posted by the bridge, and a road sign. Then she slipped back into the cover of trees, and pulled out the map.

  And cursed out loud. Oh, for God’s sake, when she had gotten lost she had travelled too far south. She was still ten miles from Chesterbrook, now south of the town at Highway 3 just before it went through Ridley Creek State Park. If she had kept going west she would have walked right into the sleepy town of Edgemont, which was now probably anything but sleepy. It wasn’t all bad, though; she could follow the stream north for quite a way, move a little cross backcountry, and then be at an unlabeled system of streams that drained toward Chesterbrook. There was no way she could get lost now, unless she had to move away from the water for some reason.

  * * *

  Jaz again cursed her luck. Nothing was going right, damn it. First she’d gotten lost after lifting that one chick’s backpack, only to find there were only some granola bars and a half-eaten MRE in it, aside from crap like string and duct tape. And then she had stumbled right into the camp of three totally hickerbilly rednecks, and they didn’t let her go. Oh, they fed her some great-tasting rabbit and filled her with water and booze, which was totes amaze, but then they did what lots of guys did to her. She didn’t mind that, so much—it was more or less what she expected from guys. No, the worst part was that they hadn’t showered in who knows how long, and they were all hairy. It was one thing to give it up for the quarterback or frat guys, because they always gave her a ride home and invited her to the next great party. These retro rednecks, though, were an entirely different story.

  Still, they had guns and promised to keep her safe. They said people were starting to shoot first, just to get stuff like her granola bars. She sure didn’t want that to happen. And anyway, they were pretty nice to her, other than smelling bad. At least they were gentle with her when they did what guys do. And they fed her, and looked like they could stay fed out here in the woods even if the lights never came back on. Yeah, she could always just close her eyes... Besides, when something better came along, she would trade up. Always trade up, her mom had told her. To Jaz, this was just another chance to start over.

  But now they were using her for other, more dangerous tasks. For example, going into the camp they’d just found, which had three families and a bunch of ice chests. The people didn’t look hungry, and they had awesome tents. Tents her guardians wanted, whatever it took.

  So, they had loaded her up with a plastic pouch full of rabbit meat and told her to get everyone in that camp together around the fire. Talk to them, they said. Use your charms, they said. This was so stupid, and yet there she was about to stroll into camp with a smile and a bag of rabbit. Like, what if they just shot her? She’d just have to scrunch up her courage and do it.

  She got to where she could just see the camp, and crept forward to watch. Just like the rednecks said, there were three couples and three kids in two huge Army-style tents. And there was food, or at least a lot of coolers. Briefly, she watched the kids playing with a Frisbee, like they were on vacation or something. The adults laughed and cheered. They seemed nice, but there was no way she was going to risk getting kicked out of her group for these peeps. So she stood, messed with her hair a bit to get it looking nicer and get the twigs out, and then straightened her top and jeans to look just so. The women might hate her, she thought with a smile, but the men would do anything she asked if they thought they could get her pants down, even if they wouldn’t do so with their wives there, and all. Men were the easiest to deal with. So, she waited until all three women were on the other side of the tents and then briskly walked out towards the men.

  * * *

  Frank sat with Jed and Mike around the fire, cheering the kids as they played Frisbee. He was in good mood because they had caught some fish, and one of the traps bagged them an actual, honest-to-god turkey. There’d be good eating tonight.

  He was roused from his thoughts when Jed nudged him with his elbow, and Frank saw that Jed was looking beyond the kids. Frank looked over and saw what had Jed’s attention, a young woman coming out of the trees.

  “What do you suppose a girl like that is doing out here, Frank?” said Jed, grinning.

  “Damn good question, Jed. Why don’t you ask your wife to go find out?”

  Jed frowned and glared at Frank out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t be like that, Frank. There’s no harm in looking, and she’s a looker for sure. But maybe she needs help. We should find out, right? The Christian thing to do, and all that.”

  Frank rolled his eyes. Jed might be lecherous, but he wasn’t a cheater so far as Frank knew. He was right about the woman, though; she was stunning. As the thought hit him, his eyes darted over to where their wives were prepping the turkey on the other side of camp. He figured as soon as they saw what was going on they’d be over in a flash. The thought made him smile.

  Jed stood up first, greeting the girl with a wave. Michael was only a second behind Jed. So, with a sigh, Frank stood as well and waved while the girl came within easy speaking distance.

  “We’re not buying any,” Frank said, forcing a smile.

  Jed chuckled. “Don’t be like that, Frank. Everything okay, miss?”

  The girl glanced between each of the three men, and Frank realized she was sizing them up. Then she smiled at Jed, and it lit up her face. She was even more beautiful smiling, and Jed clearly ate it up because he stuck out his hand.

  “Hi, I’m Jaz,” said the girl as she looked right into Jed’s eyes. “No, no help. I got me a rabbit, but after I saw you had kids, I thought I’d see if you needed the leftovers. Great looking kids you got. They definitely take after their dads,” she smiled again.

  Behind Frank, Michael muttered, “Every damn time, Jed,” before stepping forward to introduce himself. “I’m Michael, and Don Juan here is Jed. The surly, quiet guy is Frank. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  Jaz looked over to where the women were, and nodded. “Pleased to meet you. I wouldn’t have come over, but then I saw you had some other girls here. I don’t walk
up to strange men in the woods!” She laughed and looked over to Jed out of the corner of her eye, still smiling. “It wouldn’t be safe otherwise, right?”

  A voice careened through the camp. “What do we have here?” Amber asked as she walked quickly toward the group.

  Damn and damn, thought Frank. He bolted to his feet and intercepted Amber, blocking her path. He leaned over and whispered, “You better not draw that damn pistol again, Amber. Ain’t no call for that. You pull it again, you better use it, and it better be justified.” Then Frank turned to smile at Jaz, and returned to his seat.

  Jed took a step away from Jaz and turned to his wife. “Well, hon, Jaz here just came out of the woods and offered up some rabbit for the kids. Says she has more than she can eat. Isn’t that nice of her?”

  Amber smiled as she looked at Jaz, but Frank thought her eyes looked wary. “Hi, Jaz. I’m Amber, Jed’s wife.” She motioned the other two women, who were a few steps behind her. “This is Mary and Tiffany, who are married to these other two louts. So what brings you to our lovely camp, and when will you be moving along?”

  Jaz looked down, then back at Amber. “I’m just moving through, going to Philly to get to my Dad’s. There’s no food out there, but lots of bunnies and so on out here, so. Anyway, I just thought maybe your kids might like some fresh meat? Maybe trade for some fish, or a water bottle. And I thought you could tell me what you’ve heard. Everyone wants to know, and no one has answers. Then I’ll move right along.”

  Amber smiled, and Frank thought again what a great woman Amber was, despite having grown territorial of Jed in the last few years. No business of his, he reminded himself. He and Jed might be friends, but damn if he could figure out why she was with Jed. But of course, theirs had been a shotgun wedding, which explained a lot.