“Jacob and Dana and I would like to move into town. Perhaps, into the neighborhood where Wayne lives,” he nodded in the man's direction. There was silence, no one murmured, no questions. Dan got up and walked to the fire, poked at the log with his boot. The two were very close to the same height, with wide shoulders, wide grins and gray green eyes. Like father, like son, sturdy as a workhorse.
“Why would you want to do that?” he asked the young man beside him.
Clayton looked to his sister and friend for some support and tried not to notice the surprised expression of his mother. “We have talked about this for quite a while. I know some of the people in the city militia and some other folks in town. They are groups who are really making an effort to restore some order and build the city up again. There is work to do and help is needed.”
Dan said, “Well, that's admirable, Son. You wouldn't necessarily have to move into the city to join in some of those efforts.”
“Yes, yes we would Dad...we...” he looked at his sister, his eyes pleaded for back-up.
Dana stood up. She was twenty-two now, not large like her father and brother, just average. Her brown hair was kept short and a few freckles scattered across her fair skin. Like all the residents of Dan's farm, she had no lack of competence and strength. Both hands stuffed down in her jean's pockets, “Listen. Mom, Dad...all of you, we love you very much. You have kept us safe, taken care of us and you have taught us. The farm is a great home. Think about it, please. We are young, we need to meet other people.” She looked over to the young company, “Like Chris and Brent. We want to be part of re-building, we can't just stay here on the farm and grow old.”
A short, stocky man with touches of gray in his hair, put his wide brown hand on the shoulder of his eighteen year old son, “Jacob, is this what you want?”
Jacob placed his hand on top of his father's, “Yes, Pop. I think it's the right thing to do. It's not like we are deserting the family. We'll be around here all the time.” Jacob, with his mother and father made the long journey on the paddle wheeler, ten years earlier. They joined Allie and her mother Angel and captain Clay in a perilous nearly one thousand mile adventure, to reach the haven of Dan's farm. This is why Jacob and Allie were as close as any brother and sister.
Now, there was a low rumble of chatter around the room. All of a sudden, Allie sprang up, her short legs stomped her heavy boots around the floor. “Wait a minute! Wait-t-one-minute...ya'll are not going to leave me here...stuck on the farm.” She pushed the glasses on the elastic up on her head and kept pacing, “I'm sorry Mommy, but dang-it, I'm no baby.”
Clayton captured her in the circle of his big arm and bent to whisper in her ear, “Hang on, little girl, just listen a little.” He talked again, mainly directed at his mother, “Here's the other thing. In town, two days ago, one of the militia guys told me they had taken two young girls and a boy from some people at the market. The slugs offered them for sale or services.” His mother cursed, he continued, “They don't know if the people were their parents or kidnappers, slavers.” The girls were close to Allie's age, maybe fourteen and the boy is about eight. You all know the punishment for harming children. The people are permanently gone. The kids need a home. My friend told me they have no one to take them right now.”
Even though his Dad started to object, his mother did not miss a beat, she said, “Of course, they can come here. We will take them in, Son.”
All of these people were unknown to her, Chris just listened to see how this would work out. Allie's little parade continued. Clayton looked at the petite girl's father, the uncle he was named after and gave him a wink, spoke to the girl, “So, you wouldn't be stuck out here alone, girl. You are so smart and you know how to survive and be tough. These kids need you to teach them all the things that you already know. Before you know it, you will be old enough to decide where you want to live.”
The girl stopped her agitated movement, her lip still pouted out just a bit, her dainty hands rested on her hips. Brent watched the feisty young girl with total fascination. He said, “I would be happy to come out to the farm and help with whatever I can...chores, those kids training. Not like I have a lot to do at home.”
Allie pushed her glasses down on her nose and looked at the young man that spoke. He bent down to pick up a napkin he dropped and slightly caught the edge of a side table with his head, “Ow-w,” he mumbled. She giggled out loud.
The father and son stood side by side, in front of the fire. Dan looked at Wayne, “Friend, you've been in the edge of the city all these years. What do you think?”
Wayne said, “There has been some progress in the last year or so. I can understand the young people's need to feel like they are contributing to some recovery and that they should be around other young adults,” he looked a little sheepishly at Chris. “There is a house about three lots down from our house, it has been deserted a long time. They could probably move in there.”
Dan looked at his daughter and his wife, he spoke, “I guess it would actually be an alliance, more of a connection to the city and our good friends. If you three moved in the house near Wayne, I would feel better. I will support you in whatever you think you need to do. And Brent, you are welcome here anytime. There is never a lack of work to do, your help would be appreciated.”
Allie's parents, Clay and Angel stood with their arms around each other and gave Clayton a look of understanding. Their eyes sent thanks to him for soothing their spunky young daughter, she would stay near them for a while longer.
There would be a lot more talks and plans tomorrow. Tonight, it was the watches and sleep. The end of a day full of unpleasant surprises and unexpected changes.
***
Chris watched sadly as the wagon, pulled by an old tractor stopped in front of the house across the street. The city crew finally arrived to remove Mr. Reed's body from his house. “Damn,” she quietly cursed, as she peered through the mesh in the living room window. Not the most efficient, the crew made an effort though. When they removed a body or if someone passed the information along to them that a house was deserted, they pulled the electric meter and closed up the house. They even removed any spoiled food. It was a crappy job, but if the city was ever going to have a handle on disease, it had to be done.
There was a system to physically move around the city, make lists of houses that seemed to be inhabited, had functional electricity to the location. If that person never showed up and made some type of payment at the warehouse, it would likely not be noticed. It created a list to follow up with, however. A not very effective system, but they had to begin somewhere. The clean-ups, the power police, the militia; it would take a lot of co-operation before any restoration progress would happen in the city. That is exactly why Clayton, his sister and Jacob wanted to join the cause.
The deserted house that sat three lots north of Wayne's house, to a large degree appeared like just walked away from. The refrigerator stood open, no food left there and no power on. The closed up house revealed some signs of mice and bugs, however the house was not a complete trash heap like so many. Chris had told Dana, “I'll be glad to help you and the men clean and air out the house.”
Wayne helped the young men board up the windows, showed them how his own windows were boarded, yet had some light and view with the mesh. Recovery was not anywhere near the point where each person did not have to provide for their own safety and security.
Clayton went to his friends, in the city. He told them that the three now inhabited the house in the neighborhood. The new neighborhood residents had their small ration of power. When the light in the refrigerator came on, Dana was amazed and excited, “Look, we have a refrigerator!” Not to rain on her parade, Chris carefully explained the rationing and how she would have to be careful of her usage.
At the big warehouse, which was also more or less headquarters for the developing city groups, the leader of the newly formed militia and Clayton shook hands, “Real glad to have you, friend. You kn
ow, of course, you'll have to provide your own weapon and ammunition. We have a small brigade now, we need many more. There is about a ten mile perimeter around the city. We still have to be extremely vigilant of outside intruders, like the slimes that had those kids, we can't keep all from sneaking in. Then, there's the residents that don't like to abide by the rules and like to cause trouble.” The man shook his head in disgust.
The militia tried to enforce some sort of law and order, such as no slavers and they managed to run some of the local troublemakers from the city. All the residents were still on their own as far as protecting themselves from any outsiders with ill intentions.
“I am glad to join in,” said Clayton. “I'll tell you the story later of our little battle at the farm, a few days ago. You know that my father and the men at the farm, keep tight security. They will maintain some watch on that side of town. I believe that Wayne would like to help, in the militia. Actually, my sister Dana and Wayne's daughter, Chris are no slouches with guns. Although, I heard them say the other day they would like to volunteer over at the clinic. Jacob expressed his interest in the water or power plant.”
The militia leader wasn't much older than Clayton, perhaps in his late twenties. “We would be grateful to have any and all of that help,” said the man.
“I don't consider myself to be stupid,” smiled Clayton, “Jacob, however, is extremely smart. He was only eight when the event happened. Like most of us, he was educated by his parents. His father, Louis, went to college, is really intelligent and taught Jacob well. The guy is interested in anything to do with engineering and lots more. I think he could be a big asset at the plants.”
So, it was established with the city groups, where the three from the farm, as well as Wayne and Chris felt they could help out. Since the three had vacated their rooms at the farm, moved into the neighborhood house, it was time to get the rescued kids and settle them out at the compound. After their rescue, the militia kept them fed and sheltered. It would be in the best interest of the children and the militia for them to find a home. Brent asked to go along with Clayton. Two dirty, raggedy and very frightened teen girls, with the boy hugged up to them, stood in front of them. Even though, Clayton tried to explain to them, they obviously had no idea what would happen to them next, no trust of the men who slowly walked them through the city, the neighborhood and towards the woods.
Clayton whistled a code at the gate and it swung open, they were in. Brent closed and secured it behind them. As they walked the three up on the porch, the kids looked around with curiosity. Clayton's mother came out the door. The three were bedraggled and obviously frightened, her deep mother's instinct told her to move slowly with them. She held the door open and said, “Welcome, come on in.”
Another shrill whistle echoed and Allie came into view, she ran full speed up from the paddle wheeler down at the dock. “Hey-y! You're here...” She nearly reached the porch when two lumbering mutts, descendents of many farm mongrels before them, charged up to greet her. The second one easily clipped her legs out from under her and with no grace, she sat down hard on the ground.
Brent, from the porch said, “Oh-h,” and with just a very slight stump of his toe, went down the steps to help. While two long wet tongues licked at both of their faces, he reached down to help her up.
Allie sprang to her feet. Brent reached out to brush wet snow from the back of her loose fitting jacket, his hand drew near her muddy wet bottom. He thought better of it, his hand jerked away. She grumbled, “Dang it, dogs...get outta here!”
Clayton's mother stood with the door open, she and her son exchanged a look, tried not to laugh out loud. Easy to see, Brent was smitten and this might be one of those birds of a feather affairs. The newly arrived kids still huddled together and looked around the big farmhouse, something cooked, as always and the aroma filled the house. They were led into the kitchen.
Clayton left them all in the big kitchen. He knew a flurry would follow, the orphans washed up and fed, rooms moved into. They would all be busy for a while, that included the dangerous duo of Allie and Brent. Clayton went to find his father.
He found his uncle Clay and Jacob's father doing some fence repairs, down near the paddle wheeler. He gave them a report on getting settled in the house, told them about how they volunteered for various jobs and that the rescued kids had been brought to the farm. “That sounds good,” said Clay. “We will all meet the kids later. Your dad is in the barn, he's working on the still, I think”
At the big barn, the son gave his father the same update. He said to Dan, “Dad, I told my friend, the militia leader, that we had good security out here and we keep a pretty close watch on the area. I've been thinking that if we had some sort of a warning signal, maybe an old church bell or some sort of siren, it would be a way to relay if you needed help here or if we had trouble in the neighborhood. We could even send an alert on to the city.”
His father wiped his hands off on an old red shop rag, looked at a metal part of the liquor still that he worked on, “That's a good idea. Do you think we could find or construct something that would be loud enough to travel that two or three miles?”
A fire burned in an old cast iron pot bellied stove, well away from any fuel or such. The heater just barely took some chill off of the cavernous barn. The other man, one of the ex military guys tinkered with something on the work bench and said, “I think it would be feasible. Remember how we used to hear the bell from the Catholic Church in the city? Granted, it was louder some days than others. That Jacob, I bet he can help you figure something out.” Clayton asked him about his partner healing from the gun shot wound, he said, “Thanks he's doing pretty good.”
“Yeah, I will talk to Jacob and we will work on it. I will ask some of the city people, too. There might be a bell or siren still around town or in storage. I have seen people going in and out of the Catholic Church, I believe folks of all beliefs use the church now. So, that big bell would not be an option for us, but it would send out an alert from the city.” He moved back to Dan, “I'm headed back to the neighborhood. I doubt that Brent is ready to leave yet. Would you see that someone escorts him back to the edge of the woods, later? After what happened the other day, it's probably wise to get away well before dark and for us all to mostly travel in pairs.”
“Got cha', Son. The kid is pretty competent, but a bit green.” He looked at him and said, “Does that include you? You do a lot of moving around, all alone.”
“Not always, Dad. I do pay attention, you taught me well how to protect myself,” said Clayton.
“You just be careful. See ya later.” He returned to his work on the liquor still.
***
Wayne walked towards the city, he planned to talk to the militia leader about his willingness to be active in the group. As he passed the house of the kids, he visually checked that it looked secure. It pleased him that the three moved in there. Chris and Brent enjoyed the interaction with the other young adults and he loved to see them interested and happy. Ironically, the dangerous situation a few days before was invigorating for him, a change for them all.
From the day the mother of his children, his beloved wife passed away, he felt semi-conscious, just going through the motions and not really alive. The incident at the farm was like a hard pinch, a wake up. The unified effort to defeat the attackers, the camaraderie afterward and the alliance they formed reminded him, the work of living was yet an option for him.
Large patches of snow splattered the ground. He walked out of the neighborhood, pushed the AR to his back and looked around, remembered how colorful the world used to be. When and why did everything turn to drab gray? he thought. As he moved along, he looked in earnest at the landscape that was now. Of course, this time of year, no green grass and flowers; even in the Spring, they would only last until the summer heat cooked them to yellow. Signs...road signs, business signs, bill boards...all were faded away or down. Vehicles, whether moved to the side of the road or still squatted in dr
iveways and parking lots, wore coverings of weeds and winter brown vines.
He walked under a washed out pink stop sign, ahead of him the square. The deserted park was empty of traders today. Some trash blew across the plaza. Of course, everyone was responsible for their own garbage. That meant a constant scent of fires, it also meant that lots of trash and garbage did not get disposed of. A man walked out of the church, bundled up against the chilly air. He scoured his memory, a name popped to his head, “James? Is that you, how are you doing?” he reached out his hand as he drew closer.
The man with a stubble of a beard and scraggly hair gave him a blank look at first, then said, “Wayne...it's Wayne, isn't it? Haven't seen you in ages.”
“Yeah,” said Wayne as they shook hands. “Why don't you walk with me a bit.”
The two walked around the square, by the storefronts with broken windows, no fresh and assorted goods filled the racks and shelves, no shoppers going in and out. The old movie theater marquee, still had Now Playing...Hunger Games displayed. The man commented on the irony of that. At one time, the man owned and operated a general merchandise store, here in the older downtown, his family ran it for decades. They approached the store, looted and wrecked, the man stood in front of it and said, “What in hell happened to our world, old friend?”
Wayne said, “I don't know. I have just recently decided that it doesn't matter. I am tired of wasting away like these buildings, just existing. Some folks are trying to restore and recover. I think I want to be a part of that, do whatever I can.” It turned out that the man also lost his wife, not long after the kid's mother died. He perfectly understood the feeling of hopelessness and the retreat into just breathing in and out, nothing more.
They left the older part of town, walked through the newer section of town, that once teemed with modern businesses. The same dilapidated state as everywhere else prevailed here. The man still accompanied Wayne and it seemed they both picked up their pace. Shadows darted here and there, in between buildings, inside wide open stores. Whether people just like themselves or people that were up to nothing good and shouldn't be there, unknown to them. The man stopped, they both noticed the lurking figures. He looked behind them, “Wayne, where are you headed?”
The Days After (The Tenth Year) Page 3
