by KM Fortune
IT WAS WELL INTO THE night by the time Raven pulled the young, but still heavy deer back into the clearing near her cabin. Dropping the doe’s hind legs, Raven sat down at the base of a tree to rest. She was not as anxious now the landmarks were familiar again and she was near home. For a few moments along the dark path back, she was afraid she made a wrong turn. The last thing she wanted was to get lost in the woods now.
Resting against the tree, Raven looked at the opening in the surrounding forest. It was the area she explored the most. In the faint moonlight, she could see the outline of one of the cabins she had searched and the mounds of snow she made around some of the burned out remains of the other buildings. Crisscrossing the snow were the many paths she made while stamping along, poking her walking stick into the drifts, looking for anything useful. It was all glaringly visible. If anyone came near here looking, it wouldn’t take them long to find me, she thought, noticing all the paths eventually lead back to the tunnel to her cabin. She got up again, grabbed the deer by its hind legs and began to pull. Tonight will be a long cold one, she thought, remembering her hurried dousing of the fire to avoid detection. But tomorrow will be a busy day. For Raven, it was time to go.
The realization frightened her. She did not know what the world was like beyond this patch of trees. She wondered if there were any friendly people left outside the mountain laboratory. Is there any place left even remotely normal? she thought. Only one thing was certain in Raven’s mind. She did not want to be here when the Patrols did come. She did not know how long it would take them to get back this way, but she was certain they would return.
CHAPTER 14
THE NEXT DAY, RAVEN walked along a narrow path, not much more than a deer trail, picking her way down the uneven mountain slope. Her progress was steady, but slow. Across her back was an old piece of carpet, bound at both ends with strips of blanket. Wrapped inside the pack was all Raven owned in the world. Two blankets, her dented stewpot, a fork, and a sharp piece of metal from the handle of a broken saucepan, which worked well for hacking at things. She still had the reading glasses to make fire with and was smart enough to think of bringing some of the bed’s mattress stuffing along for tinder. It worked well for starting fires when spread out between two pages of the old horror novel Raven still had with her. In her pocket, she carried the small knife she originally found on the mummy. Looped across her other shoulder, she carried as much of the young doe’s meat as she could manage. It was wrapped in a section of the deer’s hide, which she had struggled to skin with her rudimentary tools. She had packed it full with snow in hopes of keeping the meat from spoiling too quickly. In her hand, she carried the heavy walking stick, using it for balance and support.
The morning was surprisingly clear and the sun shone down occasionally as the gray clouds moved and swirled above her. The deer trail zigzagged down the mountain, passing between looming rocks twice as tall as Raven and then meandered across snow powdered meadows before ducking into the forest again. At times the trail paralleled a thin stream and Raven would stop and sip from the icy cold water. She had no easy way to carry it and the fact worried her as to what might happen if the trail turned away from the stream for good. At least as long as there was snow, she knew she could melt it down for drinking, but that would require stopping, gathering wood, and hoping for enough sunlight to start a fire. Raven sensed she did not have time for that sort of luxury at the moment. In her heart, she felt a need to hurry down from the mountains.
She had no idea where she was headed, but she believed her sense of direction was good enough to determine she was moving away from the laboratory she escaped from. She kept the sun as much in front of her as she could knowing it rose in the east. At times Raven saw glimpses into the high desert spread out below her and was certain she saw a long, paved road running off into the distance. It looked like it may have been an interstate at one time, but she could not be sure.
It felt good to be outdoors and moving, even if her destination was not clear. In her hurry, she could not help but notice how the mountains provided many beautiful sights and sounds. War may have ravaged the land as Matthew had suggested, but nature has rebounded, Raven thought. At least on this side of the mountain. Raven traveled on as she made her way toward the valley below. As the morning passed into afternoon, she saw no people, nor any sign of some. Raven had not come across any roads as she traveled, but even in the distance, when at times she could look down into the valley or out across the plateaus, she saw no houses or movement. Has the land been so ravaged that all such evidence of man was destroyed? Are there no longer people left outside the mountain colony?
It was frustrating not being able to recall where she was, or more accurately, who she had been. So much of her memory was still an empty void. She remembered strange things, such as the names of all the fifty states which made up the United States, but of those states, she could not bring to mind which one she had lived in or even visited. Where are all the signs? Raven wondered. Something pointing to a city? Frustrated, Raven walked on.
GABRIEL SAT WITH THE wounded soldier. The doctor had just left and he said the nerves along the cheek were severed and the bone around the eye socket was fractured. Gabriel knew it would probably never completely heal. One of the major side effects of cloned humans was their inability to recover from injury. Broken bones especially. A majority of the time, the body simply refused to begin the rebuilding of cells, which meant a broken limb or a deep gash or burned flesh was permanent damage. In these cases, the clone was terminated. Their usefulness was no longer outweighing their burden on the colony. It was a fact of life in Eden and all the brothers understood it.
Which meant Gabriel was now faced with the decision of what to do with the damaged man. He considered assigning him to manual labor or perhaps letting him be on the squad responsible for the armory, but those tasks were not what the clone had been bred to be. His genetic design was hunter/follower. Trying to assign him to another role was usually unwise. It was not something Gabriel preferred to do. The best thing for everyone, even the man himself, would be to have him terminated.
What a waste, Gabriel thought, signing the necessary paperwork to end the clone’s existence. Good soldiers without serious genetic flaws, like psychosis, were hard to get anymore. The gene pool was too thin and the product created was unreliable. The last batch produced ten men of which two had already gone berserk, having to be gunned down on the spot less they rampage through the colony, and a third had committed suicide for reasons Gabriel could not fathom. Now this one, also from the last batch, is damaged, Gabriel thought, which left the Patrols with only about 50% usability from the new recruit roster. Another batch would have to be generated to fortify his troops and Gabriel was already not looking forward to it. New recruits were a pain. Even though they were genetically prepared for combat, they could not shoot, march, or obey tactical commands without training. To top it off, Gabriel had just learned he was going to have to accept a “reclassified” clone. The scientist who had not followed protocol and let the female specimen escape.
It didn’t feel right, training a scientist to be a soldier, but the order came from high up the chain. He wondered why they could not just terminate the man if he wasn’t working out, but apparently this was an unusual case. Gabriel sighed. A scientist to fortify my troops, it is a wonder I have enough men of quality to patrol at all, he thought believing the whole idea was a big waste of his time. Training with the Patrols was hardcore. The scientist would be lucky to last a week before he either washed out or was damaged beyond repair.
RAVEN ADDED WOOD TO her small campfire and watched the sun set over the mountain peaks to the west. As she absorbed the dazzling colors, her mind again wandered back to the idea of finding a road sign. It would help considerably and then she could determine which direction to walk. Perhaps if I find a city, I can locate survivors as well, she thought. It felt like a good plan, or at least it was better than having none. The thought of walking
along a road was a little unsettling. If anyone was hunting for her, as she imagined they were, being near something as obvious as a highway would make her an easy target. Still, if I’m alert and only walk along the road in short sections, sticking to a parallel path off in the brush the rest of the time, I should be okay. It was riskier, but the more Raven thought about finding a city, the more she knew it was something she needed to do.
“I must find some people,” she said to herself, as she lay back among her blankets. Raven closed her eyes and imagined what a city might be like now. It was not a reassuring image, but then her mind turned to faces of others and Raven realized she knew these were memories of those she once spent time with and loved. Sadness crept in on Raven as she wondered what happened to all of them. War and so much time certainly had wiped them away. As a few tears slipped from under Raven’s closed lids, she prayed to the powers of the heavenly universe their lives and deaths had been gentle. Raven pulled the blankets tighter around her, trying to block out the sudden strong feelings of loneliness. She needed to find people. Making up her mind, she decided she would go down to the interstate she could see from the ridge and follow it. No matter where it lead.
BOOK III - DISCOVERY
CHAPTER 1
KIT, WRAPPED IN HER dark cloak, and home from her scouting journey across the plains, was content. She had eaten her fill and drank some of her friend Blue’s thistle cactus wine. She rested, her cape wrapped around her, at the edge of the group of people gathered at the large hearth of the clan’s shelter. Her friends and family lounged in the room with her, careful to give her space, but warm in their reception of her at long last return. It had been a good day, and everyone was happy to see her. They had been worried. Both mutants and Patrols were sighted in the area lately and both had shown pronounced signs of restlessness and unease. There was much speculation as to why. Blue especially shared his opinion on the subject. Kit listened from the shadows while the grizzly man explained again and again the mutants were only responding to the strange behavior of the Patrols. “When have we seen two-man teams spread so thin and searching so wide? They’re after something,” Blue had said for what Kit counted to be the eleventh time tonight. She watched him take another draw on his bottle of wine before pointing his large hand at the group. “Something’s escaped from the Great Cave, I tell you. Something dangerous to them and to us. They’ve done nothing for two weeks but look for it. To kill it, by the amount of weapons they are carrying.”
“But what?” Blaze asked, distractedly poking a stick into the fire. “Let’s hear it, since you seem to know everything. What are they looking for?” Blue gave Blaze a look of disdain, but then settled back to expand on his theory. Blue loved to expand on anything. He laced his long fingers over his stomach and moved his shoulders to find a more comfortable spot against the rock where he reclined. Everyone around the fireside waited. Blue was ornery and cantankerous, but he was also very entertaining. The man paused for dramatic effect, the firelight from the hearth reflecting off the large, port wine stain which covered half his face and disappeared beneath his heavy coat of gray beard.
“Well,” he began slowly. “It appears they’ve lost something. I imagine one of their soldiers took it upon himself to steal a sack full of embryos from one of their labs and has run off to the south to sell them or create a colony of his own. We all know they grow clones like plants in there. I can’t imagine it would take much for an insider to grab a bushel and steal a jeep. I bet one clever fellow decided he’d had enough of the cave dwelling and is headed for the beach!” Some of the group around the fire laughed. Headed for the beach? As if there was such a place!
Blaze did not laugh. He stared into the fire. The light from the flames danced in his serious hazel eyes and turned his red hair to a fiery bronze. At only nineteen thaws, Blaze was a lot younger than Blue, but he was far old enough to be considered a man among the group. People looked up to him to make decisions and help lead them. Although he was moody and quick to anger, he was a favorite of almost everyone.
“If they’re chasing a rogue soldier in a jeep, why are they searching on foot?” Blaze asked, as much to himself as to the grizzly faced Blue. Blue was about to give another long-winded reply when Willow came into the large room where they all huddled.
WILLOW WAS TALL, TALLER than anyone else in the clan, and she was the second oldest at only a season younger than Blue. In twenty-eight thaws, she had seen much, survived more, and was the primary authority over the clan. No one ever challenged her status even though no one had ever officially given her the position. It simply was as it should be.
She walked along the edge of the firelight, taking in the sudden quiet and the unease of the group, noting especially Blaze and Blue’s growing animosity toward each other and wondered if the day would come the two of them would fight each other with more than just words. She hoped it did not have to come to it, but Blaze, smart for his age and a natural leader, had too much of a temper to let Blue bully him much longer. And Blue is a bully, she thought. He always took advantage whenever it was convenient, but was quick to duck any real responsibility. It seemed all the man wanted to do was drink his wine and talk and he had a lot to talk about lately. Willow had heard the end of Blue’s explanation and Blaze’s rebuttal. It was a topic which came up every night now. What is causing the Patrols to act so strange? Willow worried about it too. It was hard enough to avoid the wandering Patrols, but lately there were two man teams everywhere. Even more bothersome was they were especially on edge. Ready to fire at anything that moved.
“I agree with Blue on one account,” Willow said, stepping closer to the hearth and into the light. Blue grinned smugly at Blaze as Willow continued. “Something important has escaped from the Great Cave, but not in a jeep.” Blaze shot Blue a look before turning his full attention to Willow. She went on. “The Patrols are searching for something on foot, hiding in the woods, or on the high desert, so driving the roads isn’t enough. They move in two-man teams, as if hunting, wanting to kill what it is they are searching for. Whatever has gotten away from them makes them afraid.” There was an answering murmur from the others. Blue nodded and sipped more wine. Blaze continued his vigil at the fireside, his angry stabs at the embers sending some sparks up into the air. Willow listened to the speculations rising up from her comment, but had no more to say to the clan at the moment. She stepped back from the hearth and looked around for her favorite, smiling when she saw the small form.
WILLOW MOVED QUIETLY to the side of Kit and looked down at the child size figure. Kit smiled up at her. Willow returned it and even though her face was lined with age and years of roaming the high desert, the smile was gentle and genuine. Even the presence of a long scar, which ran from Willow’s chin to her left temple did not detract from the warmth in her face. She sank down beside Kit and took her hand. Willow looked at the pink flesh, still tender from a recent burn, but healing well. Willow ran a thumb gently over the smoothed skin of Kit’s palm. “In a fight?” Willow asked quietly. Kit nodded and made an ugly face, mimicking a mean looking cat. Willow frowned
“A mutant? Of a cat?”
Kit nodded again and held up two fingers.
Willow lifted an eyebrow. “And two others?” Kit grinned at her. Willow sighed and shook her head. “You should be more careful, Kit. Three to one is not smart odds.” Kit frowned, thinking for a moment Willow was unhappy with her, but then Willow gave her a hug and Kit relaxed. She smiled again and rested in the older woman’s arms.
Blue picked up an old harmonica and started to play a slow tune, which quickly quieted the group. The sound was lonesome, but not sad. The small clan around the fire settled in. Mothers pulled blankets over their children and then curled around them. Blaze stood up and went to fetch more logs to stoke the fire. As he walked past Kit and Willow, he paused, kneeling down beside them. “How are you, Kit?” he asked. Kit smiled her answer. Blaze looked to Willow. “I’m worried,” he whispered, glancing back at the
fire to see if anyone was listening. “The Patrols have never been like this. I’ve never seen them afraid before. What monster could they have unleashed who frightens them?” Willow thought about this, but had no answer. She shook her head and Blaze nodded, knowing she knew no more than the rest of them. He moved on to get the wood.
Kit rested, watching the fire, her head against Willow’s leg. She thought of what Willow and Blaze talked about and agreed the Patrols were acting strange and actually nervous. She did not know for certain why, but her thoughts kept returning to the funny hermit in the mountains near the Great Cave. The one who was tall, but looked weak and carried no weapons, just a walking stick. Could this be what the Patrols are hunting for? This person living in the woods? she wondered. Kit could not convince herself it was so. Still, she resolved to go back and observe the stranger further. Perhaps the funny man knew some sort of magic? Or had some power the Patrols could not control? Tomorrow she would gather some supplies and prepare. It was time to go on another scout already.
CHAPTER 2
RAVEN WALKED. IT HAD taken her three days of constant and careful travel to get down from the mountain cabin where she had been hiding and onto the flat high desert plateau. When she had glimpsed the abandoned highway from above, she had not realized the distance was so far and a few times on the way over the rocks and through the patches of trees, Raven thought she was turned the wrong way. Fate had guided her steps though, and by the afternoon of the fourth day, she started to walk on more level ground. The long gray line of the highway was visible ahead of her on the horizon. She realized she was getting her hopes up, expecting the old, cracked road to be the key to finding people, but she could not help herself. After so many days and nights alone in an environment so different than the one she faintly remembered, her faith that the road might bring help was the only thing keeping her from complete despair.
