The men were hot and tired. They had lost their enchantment for Seth’s hair-brained idea about a week ago when they had balked at investigating any more of his false leads. All they wanted to do was get back to the tribe.
It was insane to be risking their lives with the flamer on the loose. She had most likely laid her eggs by now and was collecting live prey to rot in the sun for her hatchlings. And, as they well knew, every once in a while the flamer chose to eat something herself. Usually alive. This time of the year, with most creatures in hiding, the number of carcasses remained low. Nature adapts to what is available and they had no intention of being on the menu.
“Okay, this will be the last spot we check. Let’s just take a look around. If it’s not the arsenal, we’ll head back.”
After much bitching from the men, they finally cut through the bushes and passed through what once had been the proud gates of Picatinny Arsenal.
The men walked the vast acreage which sported low growth and young trees, evidence of a huge network of roads with rotted and collapsed buildings.
They soon stumbled upon a derelict railroad, the iron rusted and eaten away, leaving channels to mark its ghostly track.
“Hey, Pedro. Didn’t your old man work for the railroads?”
“Yeah, boss. But this must have been private. The track channels seem awfully small to me. They probably used it to transport heavy munitions to a loading dock. Or underground storage.”
Seth eyes lit up. “Underground storage? That’s just what we need to find. Let’s go, boys.”
The track went on for two miles before it ended precisely where Seth had hoped.
The warped and useless iron door to the underground bunker lay flat on the ground—on the inside. Seth suspected the force from one of the New York City bombs had blown it off its mammoth hinges. They were only a mere seventy five minutes from what used to be the George Washington Bridge; the fabled bridge that had once spanned New York Harbor to connect New York and New Jersey.
It didn’t take them long to realize that the leather-clad armaments stored in the bunker were too unstable and dangerous to move. No one wanted to risk blowing themselves up for one of Seth’s megalomaniac plans to take over the tribe.
As the men headed back outside, Seth noticed a small door near the entrance. Pitted and covered with vines, it had been easy to overlook. Taking a crowbar to the door, they managed to wedge it open. Daylight made its way in to expose a network of intact metal, protected from the elements by the sealed door.
“We have something here. Don’t know what the Hell it is, but why go home empty handed? Let’s see if we can get it out of here and loaded into the wagon.”
Ripping away the unyielding door took some doing as it no longer sat trim in the door frame. The wider the door moved with the crowbar, the more sunlight pierced the gloom to expose a medium-sized skinny cannon on an iron frame. Hooked to the side of the cannon hung a half dozen finely-crafted long metal spears with a nasty, elongated arrow on the end.
“What the . . .” Seth’s heart sank. The men wanted to get home. His time was up.
“All right. Let’s pull it out. We’ll take it with us. We can scrap it and use the metal. We might get something out of this trip after all.” Seth walked out of the bunker’s mouth, disappointment heavy on his brow. He tried to show confidence to his men, but Andrew knew him better.
Approaching his lover, compassion in the sag of his face, Seth shoved him roughly away. “Not now, faggot.”
Andrew skittered away without comment, a loyal dog licking his wounds after a vicious kick from his master.
Seth did a slow simmer, all thoughts of his victorious, tribal coup up in smoke. What could he hope to achieve without a significant weapon? How would he depose Lorna now? He clenched his fists. Lafe . . . if only I still had Lafe. He would understand. He would tell me what to do. Seth stifled a sob.
A noisy clatter forced his thoughts back to his current failure. Turning, he forced himself to re-examine the hunk of metal they had found.
Andrew sidled over to him tentatively. “Do you know what it is, Seth?”
He honored Andrew with a raised eyebrow. “Well, spit it out, Andrew. You obviously think you know something.”
Andrew danced on his toes, mincing with excitement. “It’s a harpoon gun. I saw pictures in one of our books. They used to kill whales with them.”
“Kill, you say?” Seth took a closer look.
“Do you think we could make it work again?”
Everyone crowded around the old seafaring weapon. One of his men ran his hands over the metal.
“It’s sturdy enough. Not too much rust. We can clean that off. Maybe take a few potshots at something with it. Check it out, it might be effective.”
Seth walked around the metal heap, dismantling a harpoon to examine the tip. He frowned. “Hmmm. I need to think about this. We might have just found the answer to our plans. If we can bring down the flamer with this, we’d be heroes.”
His men shrank back. “You won’t get me anywhere near that flamer.” The rest of the men grumbled their assent.
Andrew whispered in his ear, one hand tenderly on his arm. “How will that make us the new leaders, Seth?”
Shrugging away Andrew’s arm, he replied, “Don’t question me, faggot. I know we’re on to something. Let’s get this baby home.” He turned to his men. “Load ‘er up boys.”
As they began the long walk back to their village near the Franklin Mine, Seth’s mental wheels turned, a bright gleam in his eye. He knew he didn’t have a plan yet, but he also knew that someone . . . somewhere, was going to suffer a whole lot of hurt.
His shriveled heart expanded and sang.
Chapter 14
The months flew by swiftly for the survivors at the Hive. The shock of losing two of the keepers had been felt for weeks with everyone frightened for their own safety, slowing down their plans to build by months. Then a miracle happened.
One morning, Cobby, Johno and Clyde returned early from their daily surreptitious explorations above ground.
The survivors were sitting around Netty’s kitchen gossiping after a light lunch of green rolled apple and walnut fritters when the men burst into the room.
“Quick, everyone. Come outside. You have to see this.”
Netty and Wil stood together. “What’s the matter, gentlemen? Is everything okay?” Netty moved toward the gathering crowd, concern wrinkling her brow. The men wore grins that split from ear to ear.
“Come on, see for yourself.”
The survivors raced through the Hive; Caesar, Echo, Baby, Barney and doggy posse in tow.
As soon as they hit the fresh air, sounds met their ears; musical, wonderful, alive sounds. They ran down the pathway to the edge of the woods. Looking down the hill they saw magic in the making.
A small herd of plum-colored deer were grazing near a stand of young trees covered with dangling red ornaments that had attracted the attentions of bird-like creatures, graceful in their improbable box-like figures, their bodies glinting in the sunlight like square diamond rings.
Giant butterflies flitted from one spot to another, angling to show their electric colors to their best advantage.
An odd gingerbread figure, all spongy and featureless, jumped from a high branch to float to the ground surprising a blue, mouse-like creature, popping it into a mouth that flashed with needle-like teeth.
“Oh my.” The survivors stared and listened, the sounds joyful and overwhelming. Life had come back and life was good.
Wil breathed a sigh of relief. “I think we can move forward with our plans.” He turned and held up a hand for slaps from the other men.
“I don’t know what’s just happened, but I’m sure we’ll figure it out in time.”
And so the survivors moved on. They lugged wood, cleared land, set boundaries, planted crops, and nurtured saplings. And at night they returned to the Hive to care for the animals, eat, laugh and make love.
&nb
sp; It was a heady time. They felt safe.
From time to time, Father Garcia and Maddy even brought the babies to visit. Little Maya liked dancing alongside as if she were the supervisor in charge, her tiny wings uncontrolled and her tail wrapped tightly to her waist so it couldn’t be pulled; a favorite pastime of the jokesters in the group.
As the first dwellings began to go up, some of the men transported the bones of Netty’s kitchen to the first completed building. It was a painstaking job to remake the fireplace, having dismantled it stone by stone.
Johno turned out to be a master at knowing something about all the phases of construction, having built his mother and father’s house in Africa. It had been a home to rival the neighbors with his first earnings as a keeper when he was a young man.
Luckily, the new red dirt under their feet made superb bricks, just as it did in Africa. Mixed with chopped weeds for binding, and loose gravel where they found it, the fresh bricks piled up, drying quickly in the hot sun. It was a simple matter to preserve their limited lumber for bracing and roof joists.
The roofs presented another problem. They had no shingles. Clyde suggested they tear all of the doors and paneling out of the library. Most of the paneling was buckled and split from the rough conditions during the underground journey to the Hive. But no one saw that as a problem. They decided to fit doors and pieces of walnut paneling over the roof joists as underlayment. On top, they laid mats of woven reeds held together with saplings. The reed mats were then plastered with elephant dung.
When dried in the sun, the dung became a weatherproof barrier, keeping out rain and hot sun. Altogether, a very satisfactory solution.
*
Kenya and Chloe rested under an acacia tree near a rock outcrop to get a respite from the heat of the noon time sun. Caesar, Echo and Barney lay panting under a deciduous tree that trickled leaves from its branches, signs the weather might soon start to cool. Scotty and Kane hauled lunch and containers of water from Netty’s new kitchen.
Only now it was called Dezi’s. He cooked, cleaned and lived there along with Father Garcia and Maddy, who had eased up on their responsibilities for the infants as the parents had taken over, bringing them in at breakfast for nursery care only.
Chloe reached into the box. “I see something good. You want some, Kenya?” She pulled out a huge wedge of berry tasset, a rich mixture of greens from Oolaha that Dezi ground into a paste before adding all kinds of berries and roasts. The paste puffed up, encasing the fruits inside a hard, crusty, spicy shell.
“Chickey, if you think I’m gunna apply any of that rich temptation to my new beautiful thighs, you have got to have your brain examined.” Kenya preened on her back, posing with her lovely, svelte legs high in the sky.
“Okay, we get it. You have the best legs on the planet.” Chloe laughed.
“Oh, chickey, thank you. Them words are music to my ears after decades of lugging—”
Kane crashed down near her, grabbing her by the waist to sling her over his lap. “Lugging what . . . your watermelon?”
Kenya pealed with laughter. “No, you gorgeous hunk of old man. My darling baby girl. Our baby girl.”
Kane turned to Chloe. “Did I tell you how beautiful she looked this morning? Those big eyes of hers, just like her smart-ass beautiful momma.” Kane turned back to crush his lips down on Kenya’s.
Chloe looked out over the field. She was happy for her friends, although she had trouble admitting to the twinges of jealousy. It was long past the time she had first hungered for a child for her and Scotty. It wasn’t easy accepting it would never happen. She fought off the tears that threatened to spill over.
“Hey, hon. Got some more of that in there for me?”
Chloe reached in to get a hunk of tasset for Scotty, who reached out with his foot to give Kane a kick. “Get a room, you two.”
Kane snorted and sheepishly reached into the food box.
“Sorry, gang. It’s just like we’re on a honeymoon after being cooped up for so long in the Hive. And now that Kenya’s not pregnant . . .”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. We get it Kane. You don’t need to spell it out.” She ripped off a piece of tasset.
“Here, Barney. Want a piece?” Barney scrambled up and stepped toward the tidbit. He stopped and looked longingly back at Echo. Eyeing the goody, he licked his lips, but, with another look back at Echo, returned to her side to curl up. He nestled in closer to the creature without taking his eye off the treat. Echo slipped her arm around the little white dog’s neck then sat up to wobble over to retrieve the goody and offer it to a grateful Barney.
“They really love one another, don’t they?” Kenya asked.
Scotty watched his two favorite buddies as he chewed his lunch, nodding his head. “Never seen anything like it before. It’s an odd pairing, but I’m happy for them both.”
Kane changed the subject. “Looks like the weather might give us a turn. The leaves are falling from some of the trees.”
“Don’t worry, Johno said these acacia trees only grow in dry, warm climates. I don’t imagine it gets too cold around here at any time of the year. I sure hope he’s right. I don’t relish what six inches of snow would do to our crops.”
Kane leaned back, scanning their hard work that now covered five acres. Five acres of shimmering fruit trees and long rows of healthy vegetables and mystery plants supplied from Oolaha. They estimated they would lose 15 percent of all crops to hungry wildlife. That number would rise sharply when they released the Hive wildlife. Their biggest concern was keeping the elephant herd out of the field. They hoped to rely on Echo to communicate the need for them to find their own food sources. Hardly a chore in their new environment, which supported such a wild variety of conifers and deciduous trees.
Most of the edible fruit, vegetables, and nuts had been harvested from the Hive. The survivors had banded together three months ago to help Netty can everything and move it to a root cellar behind Dezi’s kitchen. It had only taken four men a week to dig the vital storage and install a door. Most of the survivors marveled at Netty’s forethought to keep the canned supplies hidden until just this moment.
“Do you guys have any idea why the wildlife was missing when we first surfaced? When we lost the keepers?” Chloe asked.
Scotty wrapped up the covering of his tasset, tossing it toward the box. “I don’t know, babe. But I guess it had something to do with whatever took the keepers.” No one mentioned the fact that the body of the second keeper had vanished while Abby had gone for help.
“I think the native wildlife is just as afraid of the thing as we are.”
A golden aura stabbed at Scotty’s mind. “You will learn to cope with danger just as other life has learned, Brother. We are watched.”
That got Scotty’s attention. He grinned at Echo. “I know, the Womb watches us all.”
“Yes, but the Womb is not the only watcher.”
“Exactly what do you mean, Echo?”
But Echo would say no more, tucking herself and Barney closer to Caesar.
Kane yawned and wrinkled his nose. “Now that Echo says it, I’ve had that weird feeling now and then. The last few days, I think. Just a prickle on my neck as if someone’s standing behind me and watching.”
Kenya fluffed her hair. “Are you sure it wasn’t me, babe? You know I love to watch you. Even with your clothes on.” Kane’s face turned color as Chloe and Scotty burst out laughing.
“Come on. I’m not telling you guys anything anymore.” Kane stood up. “Let’s get back to work. Isn’t the Kreyven going to make our irrigation trench today?”
“Yeah, Wil said it’ll come from the Hive’s water supply. The Kreyven will tunnel through the hill, giving a natural path to the well we dug. Thank heavens we won’t need to lug water anymore. I think we’re close to being self-sufficient.”
Scotty stood, flexed his tail, and stretched his wings to their full, glorious span. “Ahh, it’s so good to be out in the open. I feel
like I can breathe. And the stars. I forgot how awesome they look at night.”
Chloe linked her arm through his as he folded his wings tight to his body. “Tonight will be our first night under the stars. Dezi has a cookout planned.”
“I can’t wait to get our housing assignments tonight,” Kenya said.
“This will be the last night we sleep in the Hive. Tomorrow begins the release of our animals.” Scotty shook his head. “I don’t know how we’re going to make this work. Wil better have some good ideas to share.”
“Come on, Scotty. We need to get back to the fields. Why don’t you and Kane go check to see if the Kreyven has shown up? Kenya and I will clean up here and catch up with you.”
Scotty and Kane hurried off to leave the girls to return the remains of their lunch to Dezi’s kitchen. Echo and Barney strolled after them, leaving Caesar behind with the girls. Gathering the remains, Kenya chatted merrily about her plans to decorate the baby’s room. “Do you think it matters what colors I use? I just can’t find much pink cloth in the store room.”
Kenya turned to Chloe and watched her sit under the acacia tree. “What’s wrong, chickey?”
Chloe rested her head on her knees then raised her head, wiping at a tear. “Don’t mind me, Kenya. It just gets the best of me sometimes. We’re very happy for you and Kane. It just that . . .”
Kenya’s face fell. “Oh, chickey, I’m so sorry. Sometimes I’m just plain thoughtless.” She moved toward the acacia tree and immediately froze.
“Chloe?”
Her head rested back on her knees.
“Chloe. I’m going to ask you to not move a muscle.”
Caesar padded closer, a wicked growl announcing his presence.
Chloe took that moment to raise her head and change her position, frightening the timber rattlesnake that had surfaced from its den while they ate. It struck hard and lightning fast.
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