Land of the Dogs (Book 1)

by S. L. Rowland

  The house itself looked big enough to house a few large families. It was three stories tall and looked to be about six rooms wide. A red tin roof gleamed in the sun over white shutters on a tan frame. People were out working in the field. A few children were running in the front yard. There were black Angus and dairy cows in one pasture, goats in another, and horses on the far end. Chickens roamed freely.

  “How is this possible?” asked Simon. Everything looked normal as they gazed down at the farm, but even to the right of it, the trees and grass were gray and dead.

  “I guess we’re about to find out soon enough. It all just looks so welcoming.”

  “I’m not gonna lie,” he said “it does, but we still need to keep our guard up. We don’t know enough about these people.”

  “I don’t think we should wait until tomorrow to go in. We made quicker time than expected. They don’t seem very hostile. There is nothing but the picket fence protecting them from the outside. I don’t see guards or anything. Who are we supposed to even announce ourselves to?” she asked.

  “I don’t have a clue. Let’s just start walking down the driveway once we get there and see if anyone comes out.”

  They continued off the exit ramp and the quarter mile to the driveway. An old metal sign hung from an arch over the driveway. Rusted around the edges, it said ‘River Farms’ in dark red letters on a silver background.

  “Do you think we should blow the whistle?” asked Claire.

  “The Mayor did say to announce ourselves, so I guess we might as well and we can see what happens.” Simon still had the whistle around his neck from earlier. He lifted it to his lips and blew as hard as he could. The noise was shrill and sent a few birds flying from a nearby tree. “Do you think they heard it?” he asked. They waited for a few minutes as birds chirped in the trees around them.

  “Let’s just start walking,” said Claire.

  Thirty seconds later, a brown horse came galloping down the driveway, a tall man riding him fiercely. “Stop where you are!” he ordered. He had an arrow nocked and his bow pointed at Simon. He was well built, his muscles rippling through his white t-shirt, the kind of muscles one gets from hard manual labor. His hair was short and brown and his beard long and trimmed in the style of a lumberjack. His very presence was intimidating. “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “I’m Simon. Simon Finch. This is my sister Claire. We came from Town Hall. We were told to ask for Old Man River. We have a few questions for him. Our family is missing and we were told they might have come this way,” he said.

  The man lowered his bow. “Well, that’s not going to be possible. Old Man River is dead.”

  “I suggest you follow me,” the man on horseback told them before galloping off. It didn’t sound like a suggestion.

  Simon and Claire hurried to follow the man down the gravel road towards the Farm. The Farm was like a different world compared to everywhere they had passed on their way there.

  “Simon, do you see this? There are bugs and squirrels and birds in trees,” she said.

  “Yeah, it’s crazy. I haven’t seen any animals at all besides what was at Town Hall.”

  They passed a stream that went under the driveway. Fish and minnows swam in the water. Frogs sat on the bank and turtles bathed in the sun on a stray log. The air smelled cleaner. The sun felt warmer. The breeze was gentle and kind.

  “What is this place?” asked Simon.

  The man on horseback, who had been trotting several paces ahead of them, finally spoke again. “This is God’s country, Simon. Let us go inside.”

  An older lady with bushy gray hair sat knitting on the front porch, rocking back and forth in her rocking chair. The man climbed down from the horse and tied it to a stake at a nearby tree. The lady didn’t speak to them as they walked past, lost in her knitting. The children playing in the front yard stopped their game and stared at Simon and Claire as they walked by. Simon imagined visitors were a strange sight nowadays.

  The man opened the screen door for them and told Simon and Claire to go to the back room and sit on the couch. “Put your bags by the door and have a seat. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.” The house was everything to be expected from a farmhouse. It was filled with reds, yellows, and whites with pictures of roosters and corn and the occasional tractor hanging on the wall. The floors were a dark cherry wood, worn from years of use. They passed the kitchen on their way to the living room, it was walled with yellow and white tile. A calico cat lay in the hallway, oblivious to their arrival and seemingly uncaring of their approach. They stepped over it and walked into the back room.

  It was an entertainment room of sorts. A long yellow couch on one side, two red chairs with cushy arms on the other. A wooden coffee table stood in the center with a thirty-pound bible lying face open in the middle.

  “Have a seat, I guess,” said Simon.

  “It seems like a normal enough place if you ask me,” said Claire.

  “Yeah, but let’s just wait to hear what he has to say.” They both took a seat on the couch, looking around the room at the ancient pictures of who they imagined were ancestors. Black and white photos of men posing with pitchforks and shovels, women on horseback, and a couple standing in front of an old barn. The Bible lay open in front of them, the bright red letters of Christ leaping off the page. Claire flipped it to the beginning where it chronicled four generations in which the Bible had been passed down.

  The screen door slammed shut and the beat of heavy boots upon the wooden floor announced the man as he walked down the hall. When he entered the room, the stony expression he had carried on the walk to the house was replaced with a smile. “Sorry about that. I had business to attend. You came on a busy day. My name is David.” He reached out and shook each of their hands then took a seat in one of the red chairs. “What can I help you with?” he asked.

  “We’ve been looking for our family and we were told they might have been this way. Our mother’s name is Julie, and our brother is Dan. Have you seen them?”

  He sat forward in the chair and put his hands together. “They came through around two months ago, I would say. They were looking for you, I believe.” He motioned to Claire. “It would seem they haven’t found you yet.” He smiled underneath his beard.

  “I was never actually missing. It’s a long story. Do you happen to know where they went?” asked Claire.

  “I believe they were going to the High School, but you know how these things go. People change course and in the blink of an eye, you’re a million miles away.” David seemed to float away into his own distant memories for a moment. “They stayed here for a night. I got to know your mother quite well during the short time. At least as well as you can know someone in a day. She is a strong woman. Been through a lot. I’m sure she’s still out there searching for you. I told her she was welcome to come back and stay, once she got everything sorted out.” He paused. “I can see in your eyes that you are ready to head out after them right away, but I think you would be better off staying the night here. It’s a few days’ journey to the High School. Stay here tonight and rest and be on your way tomorrow.” He ran his fingers through his beard. “Say, are you two hungry? Dinner should be ready in about an hour.”

  “That would be wonderful,” said Simon. It would be good to rest for a bit. His feet were already aching from the walk from Town Hall. “It’s amazing everything that you have been able to do with this place. It’s so much different than everything out there.”

  “Don’t give me all the credit. I’m just the mule most of the time. We have a lot of people who help make this place work. Old Man River had a vision. A vision of what this place could be and a vision of what the new world could be. And I’m keeping it alive. As best I can, anyways,” said David.

  “What happened to him?” asked Claire.

  “Thrown off a horse, if you can believe it. I told him he shouldn’t still be riding at eighty years old, but you couldn’t tell that man anything. He liked to
work as hard as anyone. Just unlucky, all it was. He got bucked off and came down wrong. Cracked his neck and that was all she wrote. But that didn’t stop us. He taught us well. He raised me like one of his own. I was five when he took me in. ‘God has a plan for all of us,’ he said. My drugged out mother and father left me in a hot car one day in the middle of summer. Old Man River busted out the windows and waited for my family to come back. When they did, he socked my father right in the eye. He said, ‘Jesus said to turn the other cheek, but I don’t want to hit you twice.’ I still remember it. Then he told my father that he was taking me to live with him, and that if my dad had a problem with it, he knew where to find me. That was the last I ever saw of the bastard, pardon my French.”

  “Sounds like quite the man.” said Claire.

  “He was. Still is in some capacity, I guess,” said David. “If you would like, I can show you around the property before dinner. We’ve done some pretty amazing things here. We have a few people who used to live at Town Hall, they say you’ve done some good things there, but nothing like this, I promise. Do either of you know how to ride a horse?”

  “Not particularly,” said Simon.

  “Not a problem, we have a carriage that can take us around. Horse riding is a bit of a lost art these days. It’s a requirement for living here, though. With no cars or tractors, horses are the next best way to get around. And if you train them well, they can do most of the heavy lifting.”

  “How many people live here?” asked Claire.

  “It fluctuates. We have a few people who roam around the area, camping out in various places and surveying the land. We knew you were coming about four hours before you got here. But right about now, I’d say thirty people on the premises.”

  “It looks like you grow enough food to feed several thousand,” said Simon. He remembered what the Mayor had said about how they gave most of their food to the High School.

  “Not quite that much, but we grow a lot. And we have no possible use for it all, but it gives everyone a purpose and we hate to see it go to waste, so we trade it off to other settlements, most notably the High School. They aren’t very adept at farming, but they have a lot of bodies and weapons. So we feed them and they let everyone else know not to mess with us. And so far, we’ve had no problems. We have a truce to run our own camps as we see fit, and nobody gets hurt,” said David.

  “Is it really as bad as everyone says, at the High School?” asked Simon.

  “Yes and no. It all depends on the way you look at it. But that is a discussion for another time, Simon. You should never discuss politics on the first date.” David winked.

  It took nearly an hour to ride around the property. They went by all of the gardens, of which there were many. Pretty much anything that could grow in the South was there. They rode past the stables and all of the animals. They had enough cattle and pigs to eat beef and bacon every day. There was raw cow and goat milk. And they had just recently begun attempting to make their own cheese. There were tree farms where they cut wood for bows and arrows. Even a natural spring that provided fresh water for the entire farm. In the center of it all was a small church; its steeple caught the fading sunlight and stood as a beacon amongst the trees.

  “This is where we go after dinner every night. Old Man River built it with his own two hands. It’s a work of art if you ask me,” said David. They pulled the carriage to a stop and walked inside.

  The church was small compared to the size of the house and farm, but it could snugly fit about fifty people. There were five rows of pews, each able to hold ten people, give or take. It was painted white, though the paint was flaking off in places, with a gold steeple on top. Giant windows on both sides gave views of the fields on one side and the flowers on the other. A small pulpit looked down upon the congregation, and a single circular window radiated light down upon whoever took the stage.

  “It’s beautiful!” said Claire. She rubbed her finger along one of the polished cherry pews.

  “Indeed, it is. This is where we all find our solace in these trying times.” David looked around, smiling as he did. “Let’s go. There’s one more thing I must show you before we head back.”

  They climbed back in the carriage and rode to a clearing back amongst the woods. It was the only section of the Farm that wasn’t as green and vibrant as the rest. “This is where we bury the dead,” David told them. There were hundreds of small grave markers; tiny stones sticking out from the earth that refused to grow grass. Nothing but gray dirt covered in dead leaves. The ground crunched beneath their feet as they walked. “We don’t kill them unless we have to. Most of them are just buried. We try to wrangle them when we can. Like cattle. Then we put them in a box and nail it shut. The ones with flowers on the graves are still alive, or alive as they can be. Old Man River is one of them. If someone ever finds a cure to this, we want to be able to bring back all that we can.” They walked amongst the graves, taking it all in.

  “I’m not sure what to say to this,” said Simon. He had wondered himself what should be done with the dead when he saw his father, but looking out at all the grave markers gave Simon an understanding of just how bad the world was. “It makes sense on a certain level, but there are just so many graves. Don’t you think they could ever bust out?”

  “Hasn’t happened yet. We make sure to do everything properly and securely, every time. We should be getting back, though, dinner is almost ready,” said David. “I just thought you should see this. Everyone has their own way of dealing with the dead. This is how we choose to do it.”

  The sun had set by the time they arrived back at the house; everyone had gathered to help prepare dinner. The stoves were all wood burning. They had used wood stoves even before the power went out. Old Man River preferred it that way. He enjoyed cutting firewood about as much as anything. Roasted corn, steamed beans, mashed potatoes, and pork chops were today’s meal. Plates were already set when they arrived. The dining room was large. Big enough to hold two long tables with sixteen chairs. The plates were fine china with gold trim. Candles were centered along the table; their wax slowly beginning to edge down the side of each candle. The food was being set out and drinks were being poured.

  A little girl ran over to Simon and Claire. “Would you like tea or water to drink?” she asked.

  “The tea is good. It’s not sweet. Sugar is one of the few things we have to use as sparse as possible, but we have plenty of lemon,” said David.

  “That sounds lovely,” said Claire.

  “Yeah, I’ll have some too,” said Simon.

  “If you want to take a seat over there, I’ll gather everyone up and we can say grace,” said David.

  Simon and Claire took their seats and soon everyone had gathered around. The tabled filled up quickly and there were only a few spaces left open. No one had sat on Claire’s other side, so David took the seat. Across from them sat a family of four. A middle-aged man with his wife and two teenage sons. David stood up and all eyes were on him. “Bow your heads while I give thanks for our food.” Everyone bowed their heads but Simon and Claire. They looked around at the others as David began to pray.

  “Dear Father,” he began, “I thank you for the food laid before us. For the hard work and dedication it took to bring this food to the table, and your grace in aiding and providing all that we have asked for. I thank you for keeping us safe and strong to provide a beacon of hope to the world in these dark times. I know there is a plan for all of us, and I thank you for that plan. And I thank you for bringing Simon and Claire into our home, and pray that you keep them safe along their journey as well. Amen.”

  “Amen,” they all answered.

  “Alright, everyone, dig in.” David sat down.

  Most of the meal was spent discussing various jobs and operations around the farm. ‘Had the carrots been weeded?’ ‘Had the barn been cleaned?’ ‘How was progress on cheese going?’ Everyone wanted to tell David of any new developments. He had clearly earned their admiration. Sim
on and Claire didn’t speak much, and no one asked them questions either. They were all friendly. They all had smiles to give. But their talk consisted of the farm, and Simon and Claire were not part of the Farm.

  Simon leaned over to Claire. “It’s pretty awesome. How this few people are able to run a place like this. Don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, it really is,” she replied.

  “Makes me wonder what kind of place we could make for ourselves. You know, once we find Mom and Dan,” Simon said.

  “Sounds like a lot of hard work. Don’t you think it would be easier to just find a place to fit in?” she asked.

  “Maybe easier, but look at the joy they get out of it.”

  “If I might interject,” said David, “it’s not just that we are able to provide for ourselves that makes this place so good. It’s that we are a community. Not just a physical community, but a spiritual community as well. We all know that there is a place prepared for us when we leave this world. But we know that right now, at this moment in time, we are God’s vessels. We are here to reclaim the Earth. For whatever reason, God has chosen to cleanse the Earth. And we have been chosen to bring the world back to God’s ways. The time for rebirth is now. As we revive the plants slowly acre by acre, animals return to them. We don’t know where they come from, but they appear. And as the animals return and thrive in our gardens, we hope to bring people back to the Lord, so that they may know and accept him, and live one day in his kingdom beyond this world. That is the true promise. That is why we enjoy our hard work and the fellowship that being in the company of others provides. It is because we know that one day, the hard work will be over and nothing but rejoicing will remain.”

  Everyone at the table nodded in agreement. A few made comments like ‘that’s right’ and ‘amen.’

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend you or be rude, so don’t misunderstand what I am saying,” said Simon. “I only want to ask to better understand. But how can you believe that this is all caused by God, when there was clear evidence that the Koreans shut down the power and likely dropped chemical warfare upon the world?” Simon had never been one for blind faith. Everything had a reason, even the fact he had disappeared for two years. He was certain.