by Lissa Bryan
He smiled. He always liked when Carly had these grandiose fantasies. It meant she thought of their story as having a happy ending. That fate really was leading them, and the generations that would come after them, to a great destiny.
“Someday, they will write poems about you. The legend of the warrior-king.”
Carly said it in a light, teasing manner, but he knew she did wonder about it. How they would be remembered. How they would be judged for the decisions they made in its creation, and its protection.
“Someday, they will write fairy tales about you,” Justin replied. “The Druid Queen who could call animals to her side, whose judgments were compassionate and just, and whose beauty was like the summer sunshine.”
She smiled. “You are quite the poet yourself.”
“Will they remember how much I loved you? That’s the most important part of the story. I want the world to remember that. I want to write it in the stars.”
She turned and kissed him, and then there was no more need for words.
Chapter Five
The sunlight was fierce, beating down on her back. Carly dropped a piece of potato down into the hole and began to form the earth around it. She had a momentary urge to take a bite out of the thing. She’d been craving a baked potato for weeks. She’d hoped with the last harvest they would have enough to start eating them, but no, they all needed to go back into seed. She remembered the disappointment on the faces of her friends as they’d begun to dig and pulled up small numbers of little potatoes, some as small as a gumball.
What were they doing wrong? The weather had been mostly sunny and the rainfall had been good. This was their second sad harvest of potatoes, which she’d always believed were the easiest crop to grow. Just stick an eye in the ground and dig up a bountiful bag of them. But nothing seemed to be growing well. Something had to be wrong with the soil, she thought. Maybe if there were some fertilizer.
“You need to take a break,” Justin said.
She looked up to see him standing behind her and gave him a brief smile before she shook her head.
“After I get this row done.” She rubbed the back of her glove over her sweaty forehead and went back to mounding the soil around the potato plants.
Justin shook his head, too, but he knew Carly’s determination when there was a task to be completed. He knelt down on the other side of the row from her and began to cup the soil in his hands around the next plant. The kids were walking behind the adults, who dug the holes, dropping a sprout in each one.
“We think we’ve got the water system going with that ram pump. Damn thing’s a Rube Goldberg device, but we’ve got it going.” He explained how a windmill drew up the water from the well and a series of chutes and pipes created enough descent for the falling water to power the ram pump that then drove it through the irrigation pipes. It should be enough to water the crops if the rain was poor, and supply the town’s water needs, at least until their population grew. Carly let Justin’s voice flow over her without really absorbing the words as he talked about connecting pipes and angles of descent.
They reached the end of the row and Carly stood, arching to stretch her aching back. They were trying to time this planting in such a way that there would be a constant harvest of potatoes—once they started getting enough to matter, that is.
Justin was still talking. “—taking Pearl scouting with me.”
“What?” Carly blinked.
Justin frowned. “You’re overheated. Come over here and sit with me for a minute.” He led her over to the pool of shade beneath a willow tree and brought her a Mason jar wrapped with wet cloth to keep the contents cool. They had fashioned something like a sports drink with a little honey and salt, with a little raspberry juice for flavoring. It tasted terrible, but it would replace some of the electrolytes she lost.
Justin took off her big floppy hat and fanned her face with it. “I was saying I’m heading to Brewster tomorrow morning and I’m thinking of taking Pearl with me.”
It had been just a week since Pearl’s arrival. Did Justin trust her so much already?
Carly looked down the field and saw Pearl on the far side, patting dirt around a potato plant, her face halfway concealed by the large hat she wore. She was turning out to be a valuable member of the community, always willing to lend a hand. A few days ago, she had helped Carly make soap. Together, they had drained the water from the wood ash barrel and mixed it with the melted alligator fat. The stench of the rendering should have made the task distasteful, but Carly and Pearl had been engrossed in conversation, giggling like young girls over stories of old boyfriends and youthful hijinks. Miz Marson had smiled and shook her head as she watched them, and Carly wondered if she had stories of her own she wasn’t volunteering.
Pearl had joined Justin’s classes and also volunteered for a shift on the Watch, but had Justin really been able to get a good enough sense of her capabilities and trustworthiness in that short period of time?
Justin tucked a stray strand of Carly’s hair behind her ear. “What do you think?”
“I’d rather it was me going with you,” Carly muttered.
Justin grinned at her. “Carly, are you jealous?”
“No! Absolutely not! Not at all.”
He waited.
“Okay, maybe a little. She’s, like, the girl version of you.”
Justin laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. “You know you have nothing to worry about, right?”
She gave him a brief smile. “Yes, I know that. I do. I just can’t help but wish … well, I kind of wish I was more like her. Tough and self-reliant.”
“You are tough and self-reliant.”
She puffed out a breath of frustration. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t think I do.” He cupped her cheek in his palm. “Carly, you’re perfect for me, just the way you are. We complement each other’s strengths and make up for each other’s weaknesses. A true partnership on every level. It’s enough to almost make me believe in that fate stuff you’re always talking about.”
Carly took off the cloth around the jar and used it to wipe her hot face and neck. They had agreed Carly would stay in the town while Justin was gone, because of Dagny. He said it was because Carly was still breastfeeding, but the truth of the matter was Justin had argued that Carly was the more ‘valuable’ parent. If Carly went with him, Dagny might lose both.
Carly didn’t like it, but she had agreed for Justin’s peace of mind. The compromise was he had to take someone with him, someone who would watch his back.
“Do you have to go now? Can’t you … wait a while?”
Justin drew back to look down into Carly’s eyes. “Do you not trust her?”
“It’s not that. It’s … just …”
He nodded. “If our positions were reversed, I’d be saying the same thing. She’s untested.”
Carly was relieved he’d put it into words. “Exactly. I know I can trust Stan to take care of you.”
Justin grinned. “As long as there’s nothing for him to trip over.”
She gave him a reproving look and a playful swat. “Be serious.”
Justin sobered. “I understand where you’re coming from. You never truly know someone until you’re under fire with them.”
“Take Stan,” she said. “Leave Kaden here with me. Tell him he’s needed to watch over the place or something. Please.”
“All right, if it will make you feel better.” He drew her into his arms, and Carly laid her head against his chest. She heard the strong, steady thump of his heart, the heart that held her whole world.
Carly glanced over at Pearl again and found her deep in conversation with Veronica, the little girl Mark and Stacy had brought with them when they arrived right after the Infection swept through Colby. They had also brought a little boy they called Michael because of the St. Michael medallion he wore. He didn’t speak. They didn’t know if he had been unable to talk before the Crisis or
if it was due to the shock and horror he had endured. He was of Asian ancestry, so they had speculated at one point that he might not speak English. But he responded to requests and was an avid reader, according to Stacy. He simply wouldn’t communicate, not even in sign. Unlike Veronica, he spent most of his time in his room, emerging only for food and bathroom breaks.
Before Pearl had come, Veronica spent most of her time in the fields, working from dawn to dusk, just like the adults, hoping Justin would notice her diligence. Yet she somehow still had the energy for that endless stream of conversation she directed at anyone who would listen. Pearl’s house was only a couple of doors down from where Veronica lived, and if she was overwhelmed by Veronica’s exuberant chatter, she never said a word.
Veronica now spent as much time with her “neighbor” as possible, following Pearl around and helping with the daily chores. It was understandable. Stacy had little time outside of her frantic medical study, and Veronica was starved for attention. She also seemed to think Pearl would be an ally in her quest to be treated like an adult. Veronica was eager to prove she was as intelligent, capable, and responsible as an adult so she could be in Justin’s classes, instead of having to wait four more years until she was fifteen, which she said was ridiculous.
Justin followed Carly’s gaze and watched Pearl for a moment. She had a somewhat bemused smile on her face as she listened to Veronica’s narrative about all her friends here in town.
He turned back to Carly. “I think she’ll do fine, honey.”
Carly put her arms around Justin’s neck and held him tight. “I can’t help but worry about you, you kn—”
“What the hell is that?” Justin blurted. They both stood, transfixed by the odd chugging noise that was getting louder with every moment. Then it turned the corner and they saw the source of it—the bright red Massey-Ferguson tractor, a wood gasifier tank mounted on its side.
Carly gave a scream of delight and took off running across the field, jumping over the rows of potatoes. Everyone else was doing the same, surrounding the tractor in a cheering crowd. Jason looked proud enough to burst. He grinned at all of them and patted the tractor’s hood.
Over the engine’s loud rumble, Carly could hear Justin explaining to Pearl how it worked: “… double tanks. There’s a fire in the outer tank that heats up wood inside the inner tank. Once the right temperature is reached, the wood in the inner tank will release a combustible gas.”
Carly put an arm around his waist. “This is a historic day, you know. We need to remember this.”
“A new holiday. Tractor Day.”
She looked around at the faces of her neighbors and friends and saw something in their faces that made her even happier than having the tractor: hope.
The next afternoon, Carly ran the roller brush over the carpet, trying not to think about the dust and debris worked down into the fibers where the roller brush couldn’t reach. This wasn’t really sweeping, she thought, a grumpy frown turning her lips. It was just picking up crumbs on the surface.
Justin didn’t get how squicked-out Carly was by the idea of her baby crawling around on that carpet. He’d said they’d just get another carpet whenever Carly felt it was too dirty to use anymore.
“We can’t just throw things away when they get dirty!” she had said, aghast.
“Sure we can. It’s not like there’s a shortage of area rugs.”
She had given him a reproving glance. “No, we’re not starting up a disposable consumer economy again, Justin. We need to start as we intend to go on, using resources wisely.”
Justin had looked like he was going to say something but just sighed. He’d rolled up the carpet, taken it outside and lain it over the fence, where he’d beaten it with a baseball bat until no more dust would come out.
Next on Carly’s list was mopping the floor, and it brought to mind that it wouldn’t be too much longer before all of the cleaning products from Before were gone and she’d be reduced to using the handmade soap to clean.
She was heating up some mop water on the stove when someone hammered on the screen door and shouted her name. Carly darted over to the door and saw Stacy on the other side, her eyes wide and scared.
“What is it?”
“It’s Veronica. She’s missing.”
“What? How? When?” Carly took the pot off the stove and grabbed her baby carrier from the wall. She plunked Dagny inside and strapped her to her back.
Dagny let out a squeal of delight, kicking in her eagerness. “Go, go, go!”
“I don’t know. She was doing schoolwork after breakfast. That was the last time I saw her. I searched the entire house.”
“We’ll find her. She can’t have gone far. Go to the courthouse and ring the bell. I’ll go find Grady and take Dagny to the Reverend’s house and meet you there.”
Stacy nodded. “It’s—it’s all my fault. I know it is.”
“Stacy, there will be time for that later. Right now, I need you to ring that bell so we can get help for our search.” Carly nudged Stacy out the door and took off down the sidewalk toward Grady’s post on the Wall. He manned the area beside the retractable door, shaded by a beach umbrella mounted on the back of his chair. A rifle rested across his knees.
Carly called his name and he stood when she approached, and turned to smile at her. He had the look of a stereotypical suburban dad, soft around the middle and of thinning hair, but under that pleasant exterior was a sharp-eyed former police dispatcher. It was what made him so good at organizing their security. “Hey, Miss Carly! What can I do for you?”
“We have a missing child,” Carly said, sparing no words. “Veronica.”
Grady was at the base of the stairs in an instant. “Any sign of struggle?”
“Not that Stacy mentioned.”
He nodded. “I’ll check the fence.”
She understood. If someone had taken Veronica, they would have had to cut through the fence. There was no way they could climb it with a child in their arms, especially one which might be struggling. But Carly didn’t want to think about that possibility.
“Thank you.”
The bell in front of the courthouse began clanging, and people soon spilled from their homes and returned from the fields, hoes in hand, puzzled looks on their faces. Carly headed toward the sound just as they did, lost in thought.
It seemed unlikely that Veronica had been taken by force. Someone would have seen or heard something in this quiet world. There were no background noises, no radios or car engines to muffle the sound of a cry for help. But where would Veronica have gone? The answer occurred to her just as she was starting to wish Justin and his tracking skills were here.
Pearl. Just yesterday, Carly had been thinking about how Veronica idolized her. What if Veronica had followed them on their scouting mission? Brewster was some distance away, and it was possible they would be gone overnight. Could an eleven-year-old girl follow Justin’s small band and not be detected? Carly doubted it.
Despite her suspicions, Carly decided it was best to mount a search, just in case she was wrong. She would feel awful if her hunch turned out to be false and something had happened to Veronica.
In the courthouse was a box of flashlights, the cheap plastic type powered by D cells, kept handy for just these kinds of emergencies. Carly went inside and grabbed it while a choked-up Stacy explained to the townsfolk why they’d been summoned. Carly then distributed the flashlights outside and passed out assignments of regions to be searched, while Stacy’s boyfriend, Mark, passed out whistles so they could alert others if they found something.
“I’m sorry,” Stacy said. Tears flowed down her cheeks. “It’s all my fault.”
“Yes,” Mark said. “It is.”
Everyone froze in place and turned to stare at Mark. He didn’t seem to notice. He was staring at his girlfriend, his eyes blazing. “How many hours was it before you noticed she was gone, Stacy?”
There were soft gasps from the small crowd. Pete stepped
forward and put a hand on Mark’s shoulder. Though in his mid-forties, a lifetime of working outside in the sun as a roofer had made Pete look far older. “Now isn’t the time, son,” he murmured.
Mark ignored him, shrugging hard to knock Pete’s hand away. “How many times, Stacy? How many times did I tell you that you were neglecting the kids? Neglecting everything but that damn clinic and your studying?”
Stacy put her hands over her face. Mark’s words had the air of an argument that had been repeated many times. “I don’t have a choice, Mark! I can’t have someone on the table for an emergency appendectomy while I look up how to do it in a reference book! I have a responsibility—”
“Your first responsibility is to your family,” Mark shouted. “Look at Michael. He’s still not talking, and what’s your solution? Ignore it and hope he gets better on his own. Because it’s easier having him hiding in his room all the time, isn’t it?”
Stacy’s eyes flashed beneath the sheen of tears. “I am not a child psychologist and neither are you—”
Carly stepped between them.
“Stop this.” Her tone was hard enough to startle the both of them into silence. “Pete is right. Now is not the time. Now is the time to look for Veronica and—”
“They’re back!” Carly spun and saw Kross standing atop the Wall, waving his arms. The seventeen-year-old boy was one of Justin’s students, one Justin relied on to keep the younger kids in line. He’s got the kid with him, and … holy shit!”
Oh no, oh no, Carly thought as a million possibilities of what had made Kross swear spun through her mind.
Pete ran over to the chain beside the door and yanked, pulling down hard with all of his body weight. The door lifted and revealed the wagon, pulled by Shadowfax, with Stan and Justin walking alongside. Pearl was in the driver’s seat and Veronica was seated beside her, staring down at her hands in her lap. Carly gaped at the creature tied to the back of the wagon.
“A cow?” She ran over to Justin, giving him a swift hard hug of greeting. “Where did you find it?”
