by JK Accinni
“I know, Cobby. I know exactly—”
From down the pathway a sudden shriek, then a heart-rendering scream, abruptly silenced. They looked toward the pathway and saw a dark shape move across the sky, briefly obscuring the moon.
“Oh my God, Cobby. The keepers?”
Cobby’s lips set in a grim line. “I better go investigate.”
She clutched at him in horror. “No. Let me go. I can protect myself. I won’t have you put yourself at risk. Stay with Netty and look after Kenya.” She gently touched the side of his face, then stepped away from the rock to flex her wings. Then she was gone.
All her confusing thoughts about Cobby were pushed to the back of her mind to savor in privacy as she flew over the path to the hill where the keepers kept watch.
Touching down on the ground, she saw one of the keepers prone and unmoving, half his skull missing, blood pooling under his neck. Hurriedly looking around, she was unable to locate the other keeper, even as his bedroll remained heaped in disarray. They had no bonfire, even though a pile of kindling and larger logs lay piled in the clearing.
She sniffed the air, redolent with the faint stench of carrion. This was not good. Stillness greeted her ears, haunting in its overwhelming eeriness.
Taking wing, she wondered how she would have the courage to break the news to Johno.
A rustle in the bushes announced her return. Stepping into the clearing, she beheld Kenya’s tired smile and the jubilant grins of Netty and Cobby. In Kenya’s trembling arms lay her newborn baby girl. The first and the last child to be born to humans in the new world.
*
The joy over the birth of Kenya’s baby was overshadowed by the death of the keepers. Losing two members of their tightly-knit community was a loss felt by all. Worse yet was the prospect of danger it presented for their fledgling settlement.
Understandably, the mothers were the most vocal.
“Cobby, you can’t expect us to put the babies in danger. Our lives are fine here. We have everything we need.” Karen‘s voice strained with her arguments against moving to the settlement.
“Are you out of your mind? If you think any human will choose to live underground when we have the chance to reclaim our world, you’re crazy. And the baby would never grow up. Is that what you want?” Cobby’s words unexpectedly stung.
Her voice low, she responded, “I’m just thinking of our safety.”
Cobby took her in his arms, surprised at his shortness. “I know you are, Karen. I know. Try not to worry. We have plenty of time to investigate. It’s going to take us a good year or more just to get the settlement in enough of a rough shape to move into. We’re down two men now. That’s going to cost us. It might take us longer than we expect. We have so much to do. And you need to help. I’m sure we’ll have a complete picture of the dangers before we give up the Hive.” He gazed into her trusting eyes.
“Promise?”
He held her again as he tried to fight his century-long and futile desire for it to be Abby in his arms. “Yes, I promise.”
Chapter 13
2148 AD
Lorna surveyed the construction site. If only her mother, Suzy, had lived to see this. Her dream of freedom was what had driven the women of the tribe to overthrow the diabolical control of the barbaric men who had ruled them during the first twenty eight years of life in the mines.
She had no memory of her father, Doc Benjamin. The memory of his rule glowed bright and embellished in the minds of the men of the tribe. Quietly, that is. The female leaders of Lorna’s inner circle allowed the worship without comment, instead preferring to encourage a healthier discourse of kindness and sharing. The women knew the memory of Doc Benjamin’s reign would die out after the next generation.
Lorna and her twin brother Seth were now sixty one and relatively fit. They attributed their health to the miracle produce from the growing field which no one seemed to remember planting.
Under Lorna’s leadership, the men had gradually been convinced to participate in the work around camp, reducing their caloric intake and losing some of the puffy chubbiness that came from ingesting prodigious amounts of fruit.
Lorna’s habit of banning a man from his home and his females had curbed much of the formerly rampant crime. Unfortunately, not all abuses had stopped, but just went unreported or underground. Lorna and her inner circle knew the men had an unknown ringleader who thwarted their every move, but they had made progress all the same. Mostly with the women. It was amazing how manipulative a woman could be with sex when it was applied for the greater good. It was a weapon the subversive men did not have in their arsenal.
And of course, her mother had been the chosen leader; chosen by Doc Benjamin himself.
Her own leadership had been preordained. She herself had seen sparks of resentment and jealousy from her brother Seth as they were children and well into their teens. But Seth had come around. Just as their brother Lafe had.
Lafe had become her mother’s most reliant member of her inner circle. When the older members of her father’s old entourage had balked at a new directive, Lafe had been the first to take her mother’s side. He had been an elder adviser when she had taken over after her mother’s death sixteen years ago in a drowning accident at the falls when she was visiting Tom, an old family friend who operated their power grid.
She had continued to consult with Lafe up until his death ten years ago. Surprisingly, Seth had been beside himself at his funeral, throwing himself at the foot of Lafe’s funeral pyre even as it burned. She had no knowledge of their relationship and shrugged it off, the control of the burning funeral pyre more of a concern.
Fire had become her friend. Fire kept them healthy. Whenever an outbreak of disease struck, she ordered everything they had touched to be burned and the sick quarantined in another cave with no contact from the others. Their meals and water were left at the mouth of the cave. When the healthy were healed, they rejoined the tribe. The bodies of the dead and all their belongings in the cave were burned.
They had been lucky to find a cave that evinced an upward draft, allowing the smoke to escape. The disposal of the dead for any reason became another event for fire. It cleansed. That was all that mattered.
The tribe had lived in the mines for eighty seven years. Three years ago, the council had voted to send out scouts for the first time. A great ceremony had been held to honor the two men chosen for the dubious distinction. There had been no guarantee they would come back alive.
It had taken the scouts three whole nail-biting days before they appeared with garlands of green vines on their heads and strange mushroom-shaped red growths that had hung from branches of a tree they had failed to recognize.
“It’s okay. We saw squirrels . . . yes, squirrels and odd little glass boxes with wings eating them. The corner of the boxes had beaks so we guessed they were birds. The sun was out . . . everything’s green. We can go outside now. It’s safe.”
The scouts babbled about the abundance of life. Deer the color of plums, huge rabbits with legs that enabled them to walk and run like a man. So much food to trap.
“No. There will be no trapping and eating of the animals. We live long and healthy lives with the produce we grow. We have more than we’ll ever need. Our bodies were not made to eat the flesh of another. There will be no more death. Life is for the living.”
And so Lorna had made a decree that had saved them from the wrath of the Womb. Unknowing to them, they would be granted the same last chance granted to the survivors of the Hive; the same chance that came with the same unfortunate downside. For strangely enough, not one child had been born to the tribe in the three years they had begun to build their village and live under the watchful eye of the bright and humid sun.
Lorna stood on a hillock which gave her a good view of the village with its ramshackle lumber holding together their attempt at permanent homes. A large building that served as the Council Center was ringed by dwellings in the same pecking order as in
the mine. Lorna smiled as she admitted to herself that they were unimaginative creatures of habit. But it gave everyone a sense of comfort. A feeling sorely needed in their sometimes-dangerous new world.
She turned to greet Seth as he joined her on the hillock. “Everyone battened down?” she asked.
“Yes, Lorna. The flamer’ll go without a member of our tribe this year. Do you think it’s a new one or the same one each year?” Seth scanned the sky, cupping his eyes from the beating sun. His bland good looks and slight build created a stark contrast to Lorna’s large and Amazonian dark stature.
“It’s the same one. They seem to be territorial. That’s why we’ve never seen more than one at a time. She should show up any day now. All the other creatures are in hiding. Did you notice the sudden silence yesterday? We’ll never get a better warning than that.”
Lorna turned and left the hillock, Seth trailing behind. “Did you put together the team for my excursion to Lily Pond Road?” she asked.
Seth frowned. “No, not yet. I’m working on another project that needs my strongest men.”
Lorna raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Your men?”
Seth winced. “No, of course . . . I meant our men.”
Lorna stopped and reached her hand out. “Show me the map.”
Reluctantly, Seth removed a newly-discovered map from under his layers of rags. The map had been found during the last cleanout of the mine. It had remained hidden under discarded debris for decades.
Opening the map of Sussex County, New Jersey, Lorna studied the word Franklin, then traced her fingers northwest to the town of Andover where she stopped at the words, Lily Pond Road; a simple left turn off the Newton-Sparta Road which was a twenty-five-minute drive from where they stood. She estimated it would take them less than two days to get there if they stopped to sleep under some cover. The hardest thing to do would be to cut through all the overgrowth and evade the sharp eyes of the flamer.
“I want to leave now. The flamer might not return for a while yet. We might have one more day of safety if we get started right away. Prepare the men to leave after lunch. Are you coming with us?”
Seth blinked, his face neutral. “Of course, dear sister. I can’t have you going off on your own. It’s too dangerous. God forbid any danger affect you. I just don’t want you to set yourself up for disappointment. They might be long gone. And Grandfather will have died long ago. Mother said she thought he was an old man when the bombs fell.”
Lorna shook her head. “Mother said he drove a truck to make a living. He was still working when the bombs hit or Grandmother wouldn’t have been alone in the resort town in Florida. Mother remembered the beach,” Lorna reminisced dreamily. “She always said she wanted to see it again before she died.”
Shaking her head of foolishness, she added, “Grandfather couldn’t have been too old if he was still working. He must have been carrying supplies for the bomb shelter. He might have been working for the old government. I have to know for sure. They might have resources we can use. Or maybe we can share our seeds with them to some advantage.”
She turned back to Seth. “Make sure you bring seed with us. Just in case.” Without waiting for an answer, she handed him the map and walked toward the Council Center.
*
Seth trudged back to the mine where his men waited. This was not good. He would look weak in their eyes. He steamed with frustration and bitterness over the influence his sister exerted in the tribe. It was his birthright. It should be him. Just as Lafe had drummed into him since he was a child old enough to talk. And old enough to see the pleasure he had given Lafe in their stolen moments of passion.
His heart shuddered with pain as he thought of his deceased love. No man could come close to the pleasure they had found in each other’s arms. The forbidden moments, Lafe’s hot, fervent whispers and cajoling demands. Demands made of a child, but lusted for as an adult. Demands Lafe insisted they keep a vital secret from all. In public, they appeared to be disinterested brothers, albeit Lafe was adopted. In private, Lafe took him to heights of pleasure no man was meant to experience outside of a woman’s arms.
While they had reveled in their stolen moments, Lafe had taught him the truth of Lorna’s rise to power. A fabled eyeless beast she controlled and the false claim of Doc Benjamin’s appointment testified to by his mother’s second-in-command, a woman named Liselle. Too bad Liselle had met an accidental death by drowning at the waterfall a few years later. Seth smirked.
But by then it had been too late. Lorna and her inner circle had wormed their way into the hearts of most of the tribe with improvements in health, rights for the women and education for the urchins.
So Lafe had encouraged him to seek out like-minded men of the tribe; those that nursed grievances or dark passions against women. Many a night deep in the mine, they’d bring an unsuspecting young girl, lured away with sweet promises. She would meet her end in their protected cave, safe from discovery as the men raped and tortured the girl. Lafe and Seth always enjoyed the scene from afar, after a raucous spate of passion for themselves first.
It had been Lafe that had taught him to keep his shriveled gimp hand hidden among the layers of rags he wore until most forgot he even had a defect. But he never did, he never forgot. How could he when he confronted the perfection of his sister’s miraculously-healed hand on a daily basis?
All the while, they both functioned in public as loyal confidants of first Suzy, then Lorna.
Making his way in the dimness with only a tallow candle, the electricity lines long taken down and restrung in the village, he ran his hands along the tunnel wall he knew so well.
“It’s about time. Where ya been? Did she take the map?” His current lover, Andrew, paced in their cavern; the other dozen men quiet and anxious.
“Plans have changed. Our excursion to the arsenal will need ta wait.”
Seth opened the map and pressed it flat to the floor. His grimy fingers followed Route 15 until it converged with Route 80. It put them closer to New York City, but still far enough from what they suspected might contain enough radiation to still bring on the sickness.
It was an acceptable risk. Less than a quarter of a mile before the merger with Route 80, the map showed hundreds of acres marked Picatinny Arsenal U.S. Army. An Army base for munitions and civil engineers, it had been an important employer for the county for eighty years until the economy had busted after the last war. They hoped it would be a gold mine of weapons waiting to be unearthed. They would salvage them to bring back to the tribe for the coming insurrection that would imprison the current inner circle, including his sister, and install him and his men as the new leaders of the tribe, as he so richly deserved. Lafe would have been so proud.
“Let’s make some notes. Lorna might just decide ta take the map away from me, the self-righteous bitch. We need ta be prepared.”
Amid his men’s indignant voices, Seth dreamed of the moment of success and the shocked look he would find on his despised sister’s face. He laughed to himself. He knew he had failed to distinguish himself in the eyes of the inner circle. He often thought himself an unnecessary pet Lorna kept on her leash.
Lafe had been right . . . keep your enemies close, the better to blindside them and grind them under your feet.
*
Lorna and Seth trudged along the red dirt road, cement and asphalt long broken down and vanquished by the elements. Vines and overgrowth made staying on what they guessed to be the road difficult.
The third day of the journey was half over, the sun directly overhead. It was time to stop for lunch. They were accompanied by a mixture of inner circle members and Seth’s men to pull the wagon that carried their supplies, weapons, bedding, and seed.
Their journey was non-eventful, most creatures taking refuge until the flamer had laid her eggs, and hatched and raised her newborn, forcing them to migrate to other lands until the next breeding season. It was almost like the winters of old when creatures hibernated. They st
ored up resources for the winter months and emerged in the spring. Only now, they emerged when the flamer was gone. An occasional stray deer or oddly-colored bird was seen hunting for food. All bound to fall victim to the flamer eventually.
“I think we should go this way. Have the men cut through that overgrowth. It should put us on Lily Pond Road if we aren’t already,” Lorna directed as she studied the map.
As the men cut away at the overgrowth, the scouting party turned a bend. Everyone froze as voices wafted down a hill rising above an open plain, clearly an old subdivision location.
They slowly crouched down to observe the figures standing at the crest of the hill, all with their faces turned up to the sun.
“Holy shit. Do you see what I see?” Seth’s face was alive with awe, his voice full of unmitigated fright.
“Yes . . . I see. Several of them have wings. Do you see the small golden one?” Sunlight hit the horns on the winged figures’ heads, refracting bright rays back to the scouts hidden in the bush.
It was clear they had just arrived. If it truly was the people from their grandfather’s bomb shelter, they had better rethink their plans. The disclosure of men and women with wings had them reeling.
“What should we do, Lorna?” asked Seth.
Lorna watched them all turn away, carrying one of their members who appeared to have been struck with a sudden sickness. From above, the deadly shadow of the flamer floated over the hillside, the strangers oblivious. The scouts froze.
“I think we need to return home, Seth. I need some time to think about this turn of events. We’ll return during the flamer’s migration when the danger has passed. We need to take care of our own tribe right now. This will keep. At least I’m satisfied.” Lorna’s face sagged as her mother’s story was verified. Her heart ached for what could have been.
“They were here all this time. So close . . .”
Keeping low and clinging to bushes, they made their way back to the tribe, Lorna excited about the opportunity this could mean for her people.
