Luke's Trek (America Falls Book 5)

by Scott Medbury

  Silence fell over the group, the horror of what had happened two years before still fresh on their faces.

  “So, they haven’t been back?”

  “Of course, they’ve been back,” spat Diana. “They’re like a cancer, you can’t get rid of them. They come back every full moon, and we give ‘em a ‘contribution’.”

  “A contribution?”

  “It’s what they call it. Food and stuff we’ve grown or stuff we’ve scavenged that we think they might want.”

  “What happens if you don’t?”

  She looked at him like he had turned idiot.

  “What do you think happens? We haven’t let ourselves find out. This time, they’ll be taking Tommy and Jacob with them. They’re of age.” She nodded in the direction of a teenage girl with sad eyes. “And probably Sarah too…”

  Diana’s eyes told him all he needed to know about why they’d be taking the girl. He looked up at the perfect half-moon – that meant they had roughly a week before the Brothers were due.

  “You could fight them you know? I could help you.”

  “No. We fight, we die.”

  “We could fight, Di!” said Tommy coming forward. Hid friend Jacob backed him up with a solid, “yeah!”

  “Don’t be fools!” she snapped, then put her hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “You’ll be the first ones they kill Tommy, I can’t lose you too. At least this way you’ll be alive, and you and Jacob can look after each other and look out for Sarah.”

  Tommy let it go.

  “It’s time to bed down,” said Diana. “Stoke the fire, for our guest.”

  “You’re going to leave me here?” Luke asked.

  “Yep,” she said, smiling but not unkindly as she draped a threadbare blanket over him. “I was actually going to slash your throat if you caused a ruckus, but I think you’re alright. If you behave tonight, we’ll talk more in the morning. I might even untie you.”

  “Gee, thanks,” he said.

  “You’re welcome,” she said.

  He couldn’t tell if she was ignoring his sarcasm or didn’t notice it.

  Jacob and Tommy put some more wood on the fire as everyone started to head into the houses. When they had it roaring nicely, Tommy came across and stood over him.

  “No funny business, Mister, or a throat slashing is the least you’ll have to worry about.”

  Luke looked up at him, suppressing a smile. The kid was a bear cub trying to protect his family.

  “Sure thing, Tommy. I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

  Satisfied, the boy nodded and turned and headed back across the road to the house Diana had gone into. His friend followed him.

  Luke tested his restraints. There was no give. Nothing for it but to try and sleep. He was warm and comfortable, but his head ached. His leg was throbbing a little now too. He began to think about his next move.

  He suspected he was going to be able to leave Willatan Green with no problem. Diana and her group seemed decent enough and he didn’t intend on giving them any trouble. Problem was, if they were right about Portland, he would have to change his plans – no sense walking out of the frying pan into the fire. That wasn’t the worst of it though.

  Luke had always hated bullies and this ‘Brotherhood’ sounded like the worst type. The type who killed in the name of God. He was surprised that this was the first time he’d heard of such a group since the flu had wiped out the country. In nearly every movie or book he’d consumed about the end of the world as a teenager, religious fanatics made at least one appearance.

  It wasn’t a stretch to believe that the post-apocalyptic world would be fertile ground for people looking to find meaning in what had happened and in their new lives by turning to religion. There was nothing wrong with that, in fact it was human nature, but there were always those who could twist it to their own wicked interpretation, one needed to look no further than Islamic Jihadists.

  Luke fell asleep about an hour after his hosts had retired for the evening.

  14

  Luke woke up to find a young boy of about eight looking down and examining him curiously. The throbbing in his leg was worse than it had been the night before. On a positive note though, his head seemed better.

  “Samuel! Leave the man alone, you’ll freak him out.”

  Diana was at the fire stirring a large pot hanging over it on a rudely made timber frame. The kid retreated. The resemblance to Diana was obvious, they both had the same dark eyes and olive skin.

  “Your son?” Luke asked, brushing the hair from his brow, only then realizing he was untied.

  She nodded.

  “He looks like you.”

  Carefully, he swung his legs over and sat up on the deck chair. It creaked under his weight. No one else had yet emerged from the other houses.

  “Thanks for letting me loose.”

  “You’re welcome. Want some oatmeal?”

  “Oatmeal? Where the hell did you get oatmeal?”

  “We grow the oats of course.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Sure, want to see?”

  “Yes, I do!”

  Luke stood up and gingerly put weight on his bandaged leg. It was painful, but in a stinging kind of way rather than achy.

  “You all right?” Diana asked, walking over to him.

  “Yeah, it’s just sore.”

  “What about your head?”

  He rapped himself on the skull.

  “Hard as ever. Which way?”

  “Samuel,” she said to her son. “Stay here and stir the oats, we’ll be back soon. Just gonna show the man the farm.”

  “It’s Luke.”

  She smiled.

  “I’m just going to show Luke the farm.”

  The ‘farm’ was actually a repurposed park in the center of the subdivision. Despite this, Luke couldn’t help but be impressed. It was barely half an acre but had been sectioned into four segments and, to his untrained eye, was flourishing.

  “That’s the oats crop,” Diana said, pointing to the largest of the section. It just looked like tall dry weeds to Luke and he said as much.

  “I guess it does,” she laughed.

  As they walked closer, Diana explained that Stephen had grown up on his father’s farm. One of the first things he’d insisted on, was growing crops. After the Chinese had retreated, he had spent at least a month on a trip to Montville, the town where he grew up, scavenging as many seeds and grain and tools as he could.

  His efforts had borne fruit… and vegetable and grains. They grew potatoes, pumpkin and carrots and had a decent plot of corn as well as the oat crop. Luke ran his hand over the feathery tops of the oat grass.

  “So how do you harvest it? Must be hard work.”

  “Oh no, harvesting is the easy bit,” she said. “Separating the chaff from the grain is the worst bit.”

  Luke looked at her blankly.

  “Sorry, I’m a city boy through and through.”

  “Here,” she said, pulling a long stem towards her. She pointed to the seed heads lining the long stems. “See these pointy bits, they’re the husks and inside them are the actual oat grains. We gotta separate them from the grains by hand before we can mill them. We’re due to harvest this crop in a couple of days actually.”

  Luke looked over the field.

  “Holy cow. Even in this little patch you must have millions of them.”

  “Yep, so when you’re eating your oatmeal in a minute, just remember how much blood, sweat and tears went into it.”

  “Yum, sounds appetizing.”

  She laughed, deciding right then she liked him.

  “Come on, enough of the tour, now you get to sample the goods.”

  “So, what do you do for meat?” he asked her, on the way back. “You know, when strangers aren’t leading dogs to you.”

  “Apart from the chickens, and the occasional rabbit,” she said, her cheeks reddening. “We’ve just gone without. We have two goats. We’d never eat those, the ki
ds raised them from babies so they’re just for milk.”

  He was glad to see he wasn’t the only one who felt a bit funny about eating dog. Perhaps it was a necessity, but it didn’t mean they had to like it.

  “Where are the rest of the dogs we killed?”

  “Butchered and salted. We have a house set aside for that. We’ll give the Brothers four and keep the last one.”

  They headed back to the fire and she served him a steaming plate of oatmeal.

  “So, how much of your crops do you have to give them?”

  “Half.”

  “And how many people do you have altogether?”

  “Thirty-five.”

  Luke did some figuring in his head.

  “That doesn’t leave you with much.”

  No wonder they were so happy about the dogs.

  “We get by,” she said and shrugged.

  ***

  Later that day, Luke sat on a bench by the fire as she unwrapped the bandaging on his leg. The bite marks were starting to scab over and thankfully, there was none of the redness or swelling that might indicate infection.

  “So,” he said, as she was re-bandaging. “My plan of visiting Portland is dead in the water. Do you mind if I stick around for a while?”

  She pondered this for a moment, several emotions at war on her face, and when she opened her mouth to answer, he knew the answer would be no.

  “I can help around the place,” he said, preempting her. “Hunting and such. I’m not even above de-husking the oats if you want. I promise I’ll bring more food in than I eat.”

  “I really like you Luke, but I can’t say yes. I would have to call a meeting, so everyone could vote. Even if they said yes though, it would be pointless – if you’re here when the Brotherhood come in a week or so, they’ll take you… or kill you if you resist.”

  “You’re really going to let them take the kids?”

  Luke immediately regretted the question. Diana paused replacing the bandage, and her eyes filled with tears.

  “You think I want to?” she asked through gritted teeth. “He’s my kid brother. But if you’re asking if I’d prefer to see him go with them than dead on the ground, the answer is yes.”

  “Sorry,” said Luke, feeling like a heel. He decided to persevere though. “Listen, I can hide out when they come. Besides, when they take the three, you’ll be down numbers and I can help bear some of the load.”

  She bit her lip and concentrated on finishing her job before looking up at him.

  “I’ll put it to a vote,” she said, and stood up, wiping her hands on her jeans. “But the answer will be final.”

  “Okay,” he agreed. “So where is this little church?”

  15

  Diana left him alone in the hall of the small community center. Their place of worship was, as he expected, quite Spartan. An optimistic number of chairs were set in rows facing the front where a roughly hewn but impressive cross made of two weathered railway sleepers hung on the wall above a low dais and lectern.

  As he walked to the front, he looked at the faded posters that lined the wall. They advertised book drives and child minding and the like. A monument to the original purpose of the building. It was comforting but sad at the same time.

  He sat on a chair and closed his eyes.

  “God,” he began. “I want to believe you’re there. I need to. So here goes. Please look after my beautiful Brooke, and our baby…” His voice cracked, and he took a deep breath before continuing. “They were taken from me, but I want to believe you had a reason for allowing that to happen. It doesn’t make me feel any better about it but – I guess I just need to get this out.

  “I fucking hate you for taking them from me. I mean what were you thinking, dude? The only thing that keeps me going is that I can still see good in this messed up world.

  “Sorry for swearing but… man.”

  He took another deep breath and wiped away his tears with the back of his hand.

  “Anyway. I want you to tell Brooke I love her and our baby with all my heart. Tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t save her, but I promise I’ll try and make up for it. That’s it I guess. Except I’ll see her before long.”

  He stood up.

  “Thanks, and… amen.”

  ***

  Diana stood up after the evening meal.

  “We’re taking a vote. Luke wants to stay on for a time.”

  There were a few claps and a whistle.

  “I’m voting no. The Brotherhood are due soon and if he’s found here he’ll be taken or killed and they’ll probably kill a few more of us for good measure. If he manages to stay undiscovered when they come, it will be another mouth for us to feed and, no offence Luke,” she said, looking up at him. “A pretty big one at that.”

  This drew some laughter.

  “Do you want to say anything before the vote, Luke?”

  “Sure. Well I just want to say, thanks for taking me in and I’ll accept whatever you decide. If you let me stay I promise I’ll work hard and do my best to produce more than I use – or eat,” he said, putting a hand on his belly and looking sidelong at Diana.

  The result was 23 to 9 in favor of no.

  “Sorry,” said Diana, coming across to him afterwards.

  “It’s okay. I understand it’s a pretty big deal to take a perfect stranger in.”

  “You’re welcome to stay for two more nights. That’ll give you plenty of time to get your strength back and your leg should be as right as rain by then.”

  “Thanks.”

  Luke made an effort to socialize with the rest of the group afterwards. He had no hard feelings towards them; he may have even voted the same way himself if he’d been in their position. He liked that every night through the spring and summer they had a communal fire, and all ate together. They were a small enough group to do that and it really added to a sense of community. What a shame they’d been interfered with by this ‘Brotherhood’.

  He graduated to an old sleeping bag in front of the fire that night. He half-expected a visit in the night from Diana’s friend, Cathy. She had spent a good part of the night flirting with him, but he hoped his gentle rebuffs had gotten the message through.

  An awkward scene was the last thing he wanted.

  16

  The next day they began scything and harvesting the oats. Luke was happy to help. He noticed an unspoken ramping up in the speed of their work and knew it had to do with the impending visit of the Brothers in five days.

  “Thanks so much,” Diana said that night as they sat around the fire, nursing blisters and sore muscles. “It normally takes a day and a half to scythe the whole field, but we did it in one.”

  “Not a problem, it took me a while to work out how to hold the damn thing with this,” he said, holding up his hook. “But once I did it was a breeze.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” she laughed.

  “No, you’re right,” he grinned, and rubbed the shoulder where he had wedged the handle while he’d swung the bladed tool with his good hand. “My armpit hurts like a bitch. Not to mention my back.”

  “You sure that’s not from the pitching?”

  During their break for lunch he’d spotted Tommy and Jacob playing with a beaten up old Louisville slugger and an even more beaten, out of shape ball. He asked if he could join in. They’d let him, grudgingly, and he took turns pitching to them. While they’d been cagey at first, still not trusting him entirely, before long they were happily taking turns, listening to his random stories about the history of the game.

  “Positive! That part was fun,” he said, holding up his hook. “Even if I didn’t get a turn at bat because of this.”

  ***

  The next day they began de-husking and separating the grains from the chaff. Diana was right. Harvesting had been the easy part and, in a way, Luke was glad he didn’t have two hands. He made up for it by helping with the heavy lifting, stacking and anything else that needed doing, so that the nimble hands of the
rest could concentrate on the task at hand.

  They would be at it for days, but still, it was honest work and the sense of community still shone through, no matter how tedious the work was. By the end of that day they had two sacks full and still had three quarters of the bushels they had cut down to go.