by E A Lake
Far on the north end of the Eau Claire community, protests sprang up. People were upset to learn they would receive no food rations this week. Normally, a group of four received a pound of hamburger, two-dozen eggs, a daily milk allotment and other sundries from the community workers at the warehouse. Today, a simple sign greeted them:
Due to low productivity in the waste area, rations have been pulled this week. Workers are urged to be more diligent in their duties and sort waste with more caution. Failure to do so will result in zero rations next week as well. Anyone harboring a problem with this remedy is to bring it to the city commissioner’s office. Complaints will be heard each day this week only from noon to noon-fifteen. Workers will not be allowed to leave their waste posts during these hours. Only spouses will be heard. Please register at the clerk’s office two days in advance. Full names and addresses will be required.
The protests lasted one hour before an armed unit of the community guard dispersed the group. By the end of the day, 15 people had been reported missing.
Chapter Eighteen
Getting out the door in the morning became a larger production than most days for Wilson. With four extra travelers, time melted away faster than ice on a blacktop road in summer. Judy and Sharon understood the delays. The boys were young and needed help getting ready. While Miranda aided Brock, Judy and Sharon did their best with the Hardy boys.
Wilson paced outside the old farmhouse. Sitting quietly on the porch, Tiny watched his best friend put on a show he had rarely seen. When he wasn’t kicking at the dirt cussing, Wilson nearly wore a rut in the ground, walking back and forth, shaking his head and cussing more. Finally, he’d had enough.
He stormed back into the kitchen. Seeing no one, he squeezed his hands together tightly, his face felt flushed with anger. “For the love of St. Peter, let’s get going,” he screamed down the hall. “Me and Tiny been ready for two hours now. What the devil is the hold-up back there?” He finished with a kick of an empty tin can on the old wood floor.
Judy came running from the back end of the house. “We’re almost ready, Jim. We’re just packing their clothes a little better.” She ignored his leer and started for the back again. “You don’t want all their stuff mixed in with ours when we get to Eau Claire today, do you?” She shot him one last smile before disappearing into one of the bedrooms.
Wilson stood with his mouth hanging open. He stared up at the ceiling and let out a huge sigh. “Oh, is that where we’re headed? Eau Claire?” he yelled down the empty hall. “’Cuz at this rate, we ain’t gonna make the next farm today. Come on, move it, will ya?” He turned and stormed outside once more.
Within a few moments, the group of eight began their walk down the driveway and back onto the road, headed east.
Miranda stared sternly at him. “He’s just so crabby all of the time,” she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. Wilson grinned and glanced back, noticing Judy gently take Miranda’s hand as they continued walking.
“He likes to get going early,” she said to the teen. “Always has. Of course, he’s always the first one up, so we’re used to him being antsy in the morning.”
Miranda shook her head and stared at his back. “You got some big plans today?” she called ahead. He ignored her, so she yelled ahead one more time. “Wilson, what’s the rush?”
He stopped and whipped around, smiling at the girl. “Oh, I got big plans all right, Randa. First, we’re gonna drop you and the boys off with the city people, so they can start finding a home for you all. Then, I’m gonna make some trades and we’re gonna get the necessary provisions for most of the rest of our trip.” He turned and continued walking after Judy and Miranda came even with him.
“Then, and this is so sweet, I’m gonna get a nice warm bath, get my hair cut and sleep in a nice comfy bed tonight. Probably gonna have a steak dinner, if they got any steak there. In the morning, we’ll have a big breakfast and then be back on our way to Ashland.” He grinned, still thinking about the steak dinner.
Miranda walked and screwed up her face. “And what happens to me and the boys again?” Wilson shrugged. When it looked like she was going to let him have all of her mind, Judy squeezed her hand tightly.
“First, we’ll see if your parents are registered in Eau Claire,” Judy began. “If they are, you’ll be reunited yet today, I hope.” Miranda’s expression was hopeless. Judy seemed to pick up on her sour expression. “Otherwise, most big communities have centers for displaced children. You’ll be able to stay together, go to school, eat nice meals and sleep in decent beds.” Miranda’s eyes floated to Judy’s face. As always, a smile covered the young woman’s features.
“If they don’t eventually find your folks,” Sharon added from behind, “they’ll find nice families for you all. I’ll be sure to tell them to keep you all together if they can. It might just be you and Brock, but maybe there’ll be someone who can take all four of you.” Miranda gazed back at Sharon and they exchanged small, sad smiles.
The day’s seven-mile hike would take twice as long with three small boys in tow. Every time Wilson looked behind, one or another had fallen back, chasing a frog or a butterfly. Sharon and Judy had their hands full keeping three free spirits pointed in the same direction.
Judy and Sharon lagged behind Wilson by more than 50 yards. Just as he was about to turn and say something to Sharon, Wilson stopped and threw up his right arm, signaling the rest to stop as well. He gazed to his left, deep into the brush. Finally, he saw movement and two filthy older men emerged with crude weapons.
Tiny hustled up to where Wilson stood frozen. Judy and Sharon herded the boys to the side of the road. Miranda stood between the two groups, staring back at the boys. Just as it looked like she might retreat to safety, the girl turned and ran to catch Tiny. Wilson’s stomach fell.
“Miranda, no!” Sharon called out. But it was too late. She already stood between the two men, facing the road bandits.
The groups stared fiercely at one another. Wilson slid forward a half step and moved Miranda towards his back. He knew why she wanted to be part of the action; she was protecting the boys.
“Well lookie here, Gus,” one man started. “We got a whole family out on the road today. What’s in the bag, fellars?” The two men stared intently at the three.
Wilson remained silent, eyes locked on the troublesome pair.
“Cat got your tongue, boy?” the other man called out. Wilson’s eyes narrowed. The old coot looked past Wilson at Miranda. “Well, hello there little lady. How are you doing today?”
“Leave her out of this,” Wilson shot at the men. “And as for what’s in our bags, none of your business.” His words came out with authority, his eyes still locked on the pair.
“What do you say you give us a look? Just satisfy our curiosity.” The first man spoke again, his stained, rotting teeth on display for those close enough to see. He grinned, looking over at his partner. “Maybe we’d leave you alone if that there girl gave us each a little smooch.” He leered at Miranda, licking his dry, chapped lips. Miranda snuck in closer behind Wilson.
“What do you say you just crawl back under that rock you climbed out from today?” Wilson retorted. “And if you look at that girl again, I’ll come over there and kick your old ass. Got it?” Wilson’s voice came out steady and vicious, just as he intended.
The two men grinned at each another. “Watch your mouth boy, I got an ax.” The two chuckled and leered again at the girl.
Wilson’s face softened and a grin appeared. “Good luck finding that when Tiny gets done shoving that thing up where the sun don’t shine.” He tipped his head at his large friend. Tiny took a big step forward, towards the men. They seemed unimpressed. “Oh yeah,” Wilson continued. “I almost forgot. I got a gun, too.” He nodded slowly at the pair. They stiffened.
A standoff ensued. Wilson, Tiny and Miranda stared tight-faced at the men. The men stared back, calculating the odds most likely. Tension built and eyes flashed between
the opponents. Wilson slowly reached behind his back with his right hand, between his jacket and his pack.
Finally, the two took a small step back. “Go on past,” one said. “You ain’t got nothing worth getting shot over.”
Wilson looked behind and brought the others forward with a jerk of his head. Quietly, the five hurried past the down-trodden pair. Sharon and Judy herded the boys forward, steering them away from the trouble. Miranda and Tiny joined them as they continued down the road.
Wilson continued to stare at the men. Being sure the rest were safely ahead, he spat at their feet. “Road scum,” he shot their direction as he backed up towards his group.
“Filthy finders,” one of the men responded.
Wilson finally turned on the pair and trotted ahead with his group. They walked tightly together until the men disappeared back into the woods, waiting for their next, perhaps easier, prey.
Judy reached out and took Wilson’s hand. “Well done, Jim,” she said quietly, sharing a glance with him. He nodded and the group continued ahead, still some three hours from their destination.
Later in the morning, Wayne stared at the massive pile of charts lying on his desk. The guys at the city office had laid everything out for him, as best they could. He wanted numbers; they gave him piles of numbers. Enough charts full of numbers to keep him off their backs for quite a while he figured.
“Jerry,” Wayne said softly. “Is any of this supposed to make any sense?” He handed a pile of paper across his desk to the younger man.
Jerry sat up and studied the charts. “Okay, we’ve got a population of 7,822 now. Fifty-eight percent of those are men and boys. That leaves to rest being females.” Wayne nodded while jotting notes on his pad. “Twelve percent of our population is under the age of 19. That’s 940 in total.” Jerry pointed at the number allowing Wayne to be sure he understood.
“Of those 940,” Jerry continued, “350 are female.” Jerry sat back and stared at Wayne.
“What was the breakdown back sixteen years ago?” Wayne asked. “Are those numbers in there somewhere?”
Jerry rifled through the paper and smiled when he found what he sought. “According to this, of the almost 70,000 people who once called Eau Claire home, 48 percent were males.”
Wayne whistled at the revelation. “So we’re way up on guys and way down on children. Right?” Jerry nodded. Wayne leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Why are we so down on our most precious commodity, Jerry?”
The younger man shrugged. “To grow, we need 50 babies born every year. Last year there were only 22, and four of them died before their first birthday.” He watched as Wayne contemplated his words. “Our population is aging, becoming predominantly male, and has super low birth rates. That’s what all those numbers mean, Captain.”
Wayne leaned forward on his elbows. “Where’d all the women go then? Why don’t we have more women?” His tone took on an edge.
Cautiously, Jerry thought of his response. “Remember the last four years we’ve had trouble with the crops. Food got a little low. So, the council decided barren women needed to leave. Too many unproductive mouths to feed.”
“How many?” Wayne asked, his anger becoming more obvious.
“I think somewhere around 120. I could be a little off, but close to that number.” Wayne knew that Jerry knew the number was closer to 300, but wanted to temper his boss’ anger.
Wayne sighed. “That council ought to be shot. Dumb idea,” he yelled. Jerry remained glued to his chair. Truth was, it had been his own idea. The council only agreed to keep him happy, like with every vote they took. Debate the subject, listen to Wayne, and vote his way. That kept the food and necessities flowing, to their homes at least.
“We need fertile women and we need babies, Jerry,” he surmised. “Does Swanson know about these numbers? More importantly, does he know I know?”
Jerry nodded slowly. “He was an important member of the team. Just as you requested, sir.”
Wayne grinned. “Good. That’ll keep him busy at the lab for a while.” Wayne rocked back and looked at the sunny day outside. “Just where I want him. And with his full attention on the solution.”
Chapter Nineteen
Dalton and Timmy sat on the side of the road, red-faced. With great care, Judy gave them each a bottle of water to suck on and handfuls of carrots and apples to munch on. Standing away from the boys, Sharon and Miranda talked quietly. Wilson figured something was up with those two, but decided not to interrupt. His patience wore thin though.
“Judy,” he said poking her in the shoulder. “How long we gonna sit here? We got miles to make still.” No matter how hard Wilson stared, she refused to even glance back.
“As soon as they cool down a little bit,” she said, offering pears to the two. Finally, she shot the ornery man a quick gaze. “Just like I told you when you asked two minutes ago. Now go sit in the shade by Tiny and relax. We’re in no big hurry today.” Judy stood and shooed him towards the woods, just off the ditch.
“Maybe you ain’t in no hurry,” Wilson muttered mostly to himself. He decided to see what Sharon and Randa were up to. As he approached, they became quiet and looked his way, arms crossed.
“You know, secrets ain’t polite, my mom always said,” he shot at the pair.
Sharon shook him away. “This is women talk, Jim. Not for you,” she said, pushing him towards Tiny.
“Oh, this is a real fun day. We’re just blazing down the road,” he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. Flopping down next to Tiny, he lay back and closed his eyes. “Tiny, you awake?” he whispered.
Tiny looked somewhere between awake and dream world. He’d probably heard Wilson, he just couldn’t figure out exactly where he was. He snorted several times and fell into a deeper sleep, ignoring his friend completely.
Wilson carefully considered the trouble they had stumbled upon earlier in the day. Road bandits mostly kept to the busy stretches of highway, where most of the people roamed. He thought it was strange to run into a pair of old farts like those two, especially on what was an otherwise deserted road. And they weren’t really good bandits, all things considered. The one man had an old rusty ax, the other held what appeared to be a wooden bat. Neither had much size to them. And they seemed more desperate than troublesome.
“Randa,” Wilson called out from his prone position in the shade. “Run over here if you’re done chatting about nothing with Sharon.” Through squinted eyes, he saw her approach. He smiled briefly.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“You seen much trouble on the side roads the last few years? Like those two this morning?” He studied her face carefully as she thought about his question.
“Dad always said the closer you got to any community, the more trouble you’d have. We had mostly beggars coming by the farm.” She turned to catch on Dalton’s progress. Seeing he was in good hands, she turned back to Wilson. “Why do you ask? You afraid of dying?”
Wilson sat up on his elbows and studied the teen. She knew enough; she made a good travel companion in his mind. “Just ain’t run across that much before. Couple times, a few years back, some of the communities were surrounded by the less desirable from life. But not road bandits.” He tipped his head to the side. “And I ain’t afraid of a pair like that, for sure.”
Miranda knelt next to him. “Did you have your gun in your back waistband this morning?” she asked as though she wondered if it was a bluff or not.
Wilson smiled broadly. “That was a bluff. Damn good one, too.” He nodded next to him. “It’s still in the bottom of the bag. Never really had much of a need for one in the last five or six years. So I keep forgetting about it being there. Worked this morning though.”
She raised her eyebrows and rose. “Seemed good enough. I thought you were reaching for it. They sure did.” She left Wilson and went by Judy to check on the boys.
“Get them filled up on water and let’s get moving, Judy,” he called out one
last time. “We ain’t got all day, right Tiny?” He poked at his friend.
Tiny let out a grunt and a moan and rolled over, away from Wilson. Apparently, Wilson was the only one in a hurry.
With the boys cooled down, the group got back on the road. Finally. He grumped and pouted during the entire break. He had trades and steak dinners on his mind today. And a nice clean comfy bed. If it weren’t for these little brats, he figured, they’d already be lounging in Eau Claire by now.
As the day wore on, they started to see more people on the road. Normal-looking people, thankfully. Men and women and the occasional family passed them headed out of the community. Several even greeted them as they passed one another.
Just after a sign post reading ‘Eau Claire 3’, they stopped for another break. One of the boys, Timmy – the youngest and most vocal – claimed his feet were burning up. Sharon and Judy made a careful inspection once they pried his shoes off. Blisters had started to form. Sharon shook her head, trying to think of a solution.
“Tiny,” she called out. “How about you carry this one on your back the rest of the way?” Sharon looked up to see Tiny approaching.
Just as he arrived, Wilson bolted in front of the large man and shot an evil glare at Sharon. “It don’t work like that, Sharon,” he seethed between gritted teeth. “Everyone pulls their own on the road. Tiny’s got a heavy pack already. He can’t be lugging some kid around. Who’s gonna carry his pack then?”
Tiny stepped next to Wilson. “I’ll just carry him on my side. It’s no big deal, Jim.” He spoke easily to the group. He could carry more than his fair share.
“This is a real crap storm,” Wilson said. He flailed his arms and stepped back angrily. “This is exactly why we don’t bring no tagalongs.” He spoke directly to Sharon, but he made it plain to everyone that he was in a foul mood. “After this, none.” He turned and took off down the road alone.
