Forager - the Complete Six Book Series (A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Series)

by Peter R Stone

  "One designed to keep the population under the thumb. But don't worry about the money - I'll go back to work tomorrow. "

  "But you haven't recovered from your wounds yet."

  I looked into her caring face and I was moved by her beautiful, compassionate nature. She should be thinking about herself now, not me. "Don't worry; the boss'll give me light duties until I've got my strength back. Now, shall we go home?"

  "No - not until I've finished shopping - I'm not gonna to let them win."

  While I picked up the bags with hands that wouldn't stop shaking, Nanako bought the rest of the meat, veggies, fruit and drinks we needed. Some of the shopkeepers, in sympathy of what we just went through, even gave us what we tried to buy.

  When we got home, Nanako stripped off her oversized checked shirt, black riding shorts, and over-knee socks, and then flung them from her as though they were contaminated. "I'm gonna take a shower - I feel so unclean."

  "I'll put the stuff away," I said, not knowing what else to do.

  She got in the shower, and stayed there a long, long time. Meanwhile, I unpacked and put away the shopping and then hung up the new curtains, which were a plain soft yellow. And you know, they brightened the flat's atmosphere beautifully, just as we expected. But while I worked, I tried and failed to get the image of the Custodian frisking Nanako out of my mind, and the more I thought of it, the angrier I got. All sorts of scenarios fled through my mind of what I could have done to save her from being frisked, or of what I’d do if I ever met that private again.

  And while I struggled with my anger, I was hit by a sense of déjà vu as another temporal lobe seizure tore through me. The memory conjured by the seizure was of my Ranger squad and me looking at a teenage girl sprawled upon a dusty road. She was holding a rifle in one hand, but had been shot several times. A large pool of blood was expanding slowly on the road beneath her.

  As soon as the memory faded, I rode out the rest of the seizure while desperately trying to work out what the memory could mean. Who was the girl? Who had shot her, and why? She looked so innocent, so harmless. An insidious thought occurred to me – what if we’d shot her? Worse still, what if I’d shot her? Threads of fear spiralled out from my gut, went up the back of my neck and into my head - what did the Rangers and I get up to?

  I sank to my knees and sighed when I realised the wonderful joy that Nanako and I had experienced while choosing what to buy was gone.

  Nanako put on the black dress after she’d showered. "What do you think? Does it suit me?" she asked as she twirled in a circle

  "You look stunning," I said - and she did. The dress accentuated her figure and beautifully complimented her black hair and eye-liner. Sadly, though, she wasn’t smiling; the encounter with the Custodians had tarnished her mood far more than mine.

  "Do you want me to cancel the dinner tonight?" I asked.

  "No, I'm not gonna let those creeps ruin my day," she said, and then added with a forced smile. "Besides, I can't be bothered cooking tonight."

  * * *

  Dinner at my folk’s place turned out to be much simpler fare than when the Kings had come for dinner. Entrée was tomato soup, and main course was a plate of roast vegetables - potato, pumpkin, and carrot, which was accompanied by a side dish with boiled spinach, lentils and peas.

  My mother and my younger sister were overjoyed to see us, and both fussed over me when they saw I’d been wounded yet again. My older sister responded to our greeting impassively, but that was an improvement over the animosity she normally reserved for me.

  And my father seemed, well, either uncomfortable or displeased, or a mixture of both. As for us, we simply ignored him.

  For the first several minutes after dinner was served, no one spoke. My mother and elder sister remained at the doorway, waiting on us, as usual.

  Nanako was the first to break the silence.

  "You’re looking much better than when I last saw you, Meredith," she said to my younger sister, who sat at the table across from us.

  Father frowned at Nanako for speaking without permission.

  I nodded to Younger Sister, giving her permission to respond, which she did enthusiastically. "Thanks, Nanako - I'm feeling a lot better too. I've been doing chores and sewing, even helping with the cooking."

  "Your skin’s a healthier colour, too." Nanako turned to my mother. "You’ve been taking her outside, Mrs. Jones?"

  My father huffed and rammed a piece of roast pumpkin in his mouth, his anger mounting over Nanako’s continued lack of manners.

  My mother glanced at my father, but he refused to meet her gaze and give her permission to speak, so I sighed and nodded to her.

  "She’s been accompanying Elder Daughter and myself on our trips to the market," she said, smiling warmly.

  I tapped my sister's foot with mine under the table. "So you’ll be cooking the dinners by yourself soon too, eh?"

  She nodded excitedly.

  We all fell silent again, but as before; Nanako was the one to instigate conversation.

  "Has the spinach been genetically altered?" she asked me. "It tastes different to what I’m used to."

  My father slammed his cutlery onto the table. "Son, if you’re going to bring your foreign wife over for dinner, the least you can do is instruct her in our customs."

  My mother and sisters immediately shrunk back from the confrontation, but I wasn't so easily cowed. "Father, surely even you can see it's ridiculous that women aren’t allowed to talk freely with their own family at the dinner table?"

  My father glared at me. "It is a tradition this town has followed for generations, and one you adhered to without complaint until you met this girl."

  "That's because I didn't know any better," I shot back, incensed at his continued refusal to speak of Nanako by name.

  "And you still don't! And how could you - you are not yet nineteen! This girl has filled your head with subversive ideas - ideas that will corrode the very fabric of our society should they be allowed to fester."

  "If you think the fabric of our society is something to be cherished and preserved, Father, then we need such 'subversive ideas,' as you call them, to liberate us from their oppression."

  My father slapped the table with both hands. "Watch your tongue, Son! Should you even whisper a word of such nonsense outside the walls of this home, you'll be charged with treason. And I will not abide you speaking them within these walls either. And that is final."

  "Now you're talking like a Custodian, Father..."

  My discourse was interrupted by Nanako sliding back her chair and standing to her feet. "This isn't working," she said quietly. To my mother she added. "Sorry, Mrs. Jones." With that comment, she left the apartment with a decorum I wouldn't have thought possible, for I could see she was very angry. But angry with whom? With me was my guess, but why? What had I done wrong this time?

  Chapter Eleven

  "Sorry, I'd better go too," I said and hurried out of the flat.

  "Nanako, wait up," I called out when I caught sight of her approaching the elevator.

  "What did you think you were doing in there?" she asked as she turned to face me, glaring at me from beneath her bangs.

  "I..."

  "You can't go head to head with every person in this town because you think Newhome's got it wrong and the rest of the country's got it right."

  "What was I supposed to do then? Agree with him and tell you to get in the kitchen and only speak when spoken to?" I demanded angrily.

  "No! Yes! I don't know - but arguing with your father over your town's century old customs and traditions - what were you trying to achieve?"

  "You mean you want to be shackled by those traditions?" I asked incredulously.

  "I knew what I was getting myself into when I came to live with you here. To be honest, I find Newhome's customs and traditions archaic and chauvinistic, but also kind of quaint. But whether you and I agree with them or not, we can't change the mindset of the entire town."


  "So we do nothing?"

  "We do whatever we like in our own home, but when we go out, we have to fit in or at least protest quietly - and not go wasting our time making pointless arguments we can't win."

  "But my father's wrong!" I insisted - surely she could see that.

  "I do have a problem with your father," she replied, "But not over his adherence to your customs and traditions. I have a problem with what he did to us - and you didn't even raise that, did you?"

  I shook my head, finally understanding what she was getting at.

  "Your father hasn't apologised," she continued, "In fact, he hasn't even admitted that what he did to us was wrong."

  "No, he hasn't."

  Nanako sighed. "Let's go home - it's been a long day."

  * * *

  We’d been home less than five minutes when there was a knock on the door. As it was only an hour-and-a-half before curfew, I wondered who it could be. I had heard footsteps outside, but hadn't being paying any attention to them.

  I hurried over and opened the door. And then stood there like a total goof with my mouth hanging open, for standing in front of me was Sienna King, her parents, and a young woman I’d never seen before. She was blond and short, and seemed so frail compared to the Kings. She must be Liam King's widow. I shuddered to think what her marriage must have been like.

  At that moment, another seizure exploded through me, leaving me with the image of another dead Japanese Ranger, a sergeant, if I wasn't mistaken. He was lying in the same ruined street I had seen previously. He'd been shot and was lying beside the cab of a large dark green truck. Was this man the sergeant of the Ranger squad in which I’d served? But who had shot him, and why hadn't I been there when it happened?

  "Well, are you going to leave us standing here or ask us in?" Mr. King asked, bringing me back to the present.

  "I’m sorry, I just…" I stammered, but then got my act together. "Mr. and Mrs. King, Sienna, ma'am - would you like to come in?"

  "Thank you," Mr. King replied curtly, and they filed solemnly into our tiny apartment, which created a problem, for we didn’t have enough chairs.

  Nanako was standing beside the sofa, eyes wide with disbelief – the Kings were the last people in the world we’d thought would visit us. She overcame her shock and sprang into action, playing the part of the perfect hostess.

  "Please accept our apologies for our lack of amenities, Mr. King. And please, take a seat," she said as she ushered the Kings towards our two-seat dining table. Luckily, the two chairs from the veranda were still at the table.

  The Kings sat, but turned two of the chairs outward to face us. I caught Sienna staring at me with a hint of animosity, but when she turned her gaze upon Nanako, her stare contained nothing but undisguised loathing.

  I considering telling the Kings Nanako and I were married now, but I figured Lieutenant King must have told them after he found out, otherwise they would have objected to her presence.

  "What may I get you to drink? Tea, lemonade, water?" Nanako asked politely.

  "Ethan, this is my daughter-in-law - Liam’s widow – Caroline," Mr. King said, completely ignoring Nanako.

  "My condolences, ma’am," I said to Mrs. King Junior as I went to stand beside my wife, who was fidgeting nervously because of Mr. King's snub.

  "What happened to my son, Ethan," Mr. King asked, getting straight to the point.

  How was I to answer that question? I wondered how he’d react if I told him Nanako shot him dead to stop him from killing me and blowing up Hamamachi with a hydrogen bomb. Honesty, I decided, was not the tack to use here. "Sir, I think you had best ask Custodian Command that question."

  "You think I haven't already done that?" he snapped. "They informed me this afternoon that Liam was killed in the line of duty - and that tells me nothing at all. But you, as I understand it, accompanied my son’s expedition to Hamamachi. Is that correct?"

  "Yes sir. Liam requested my foragers and I to accompany him."

  "So what happened to my son, Ethan?"

  I swallowed, and then told them the story we had tried to sell to Custodian Command. "We were hit by Skel, sir."

  "And? Don’t beat about the bush, Ethan, tell me the details," Mr. King demanded gruffly.

  "The Skel attacked us when we stopped for the night. Liam and his men tried to drive them off but there were too many of them. Liam and his men, and two of my foragers, were killed."

  I noticed Sienna glancing constantly between Nanako and me, and to be honest, I'd never seen someone so bitter, angry, and consumed with hatred. And I felt for her, as this mess was my father's doing. I wished I could go back in time and undo the whole affair so that Sienna's heart wouldn't be so twisted and marred.

  Caroline King touched Mr. King’s sleeve, requesting permission to speak, and he nodded his consent. "Did he suffer - was it a painful death?" she asked without meeting my eyes. I noticed she wasn't crying, though she was undoubtedly shocked and downcast.

  "It was over very quickly," I said, which was true enough. Though I wondered what her reaction would be if I told her Liam tried to murder me four times.

  "Thank you," she whispered.

  Mr. King gave me a baleful look and asked the question that was burning foremost in his mind. "Tell me, Ethan, how is it that the two of you survived?"

  "I'm sorry, Mr. King, but I was shot in the head - just a glancing blow - after the others had been overcome. I don't remember much after that, just being dragged away by Nanako, David, and Shorty, and having to hide in a basement for hours until the Skel left the area." Just like the Custodians at the gate, Mr. King suspected us of deserting the expedition and leaving Lieutenant King and the others to their fate. He just wasn't going to come straight out and say it. It was fortunate that my head was swathed in bandages, for if I'd been sitting here without a scratch, they wouldn't have bought my story.

  Mr. King's eyes flittered unsympathetically to the bandage on my head.

  "And then Ethan's wound got infected," Nanako added, though only Caroline King looked at her while she spoke. "We had to hide in a ruined house until he was well enough to travel, and then we walked the rest of the way here."

  Mr. King rose to his feet, and the three women followed suit. He gave me a stiff handshake "Thank you for talking with us, but we have taken up enough of your time," he said, speaking as though each word cost him great effort.

  "I'm sorry we couldn't be of more help, sir, and once again, I'm really sorry for your loss," I said as I walked them to the door.

  Sienna was the last to leave. She paused at the threshold, laid a long-fingered hand upon my shoulder, and whispered in my ear. "I'm going to make the two of you pay for humiliating me."

  She locked her brown eyes with mine for a moment and then she was gone.

  Nanako sat on the bed cross-legged and sighed deeply. I went over and joined her.

  "I think you handled that pretty well, all things considered," she said.

  I nodded, but didn't speak, for my mind was a chaos of conflicting thoughts: of memory fragments I couldn't put in context - two dead Rangers and a dead teenage girl, and an insidious threat from my ex-fiancé. I considered telling Nanako about these things, but I didn't want to worry her unduly. Besides, what exactly did Sienna think she could do to us? Her threat was nothing but hot air.

  "What are you thinking about?" she asked.

  "Nothing much," I said with a chuckle as I studied her beautiful, round face, and gentle dark-brown eyes. I took her hands in mind. "I'm sorry for being such a disappointment to you today."

  She seemed genuinely confused by the comment. "What on earth are you talking about?"

  "You know, at the shop, and at my parents."

  "Oh don't be silly," she said with a laugh. "It's normal for a couple to argue and fight."

  "It is?" I asked, for I'd never seen my parents argue, not even once - my father's word was law. And I think that was pretty typical for families in Newhome.

  Nanako
put her arms around me and lay her head on my shoulder. "Yes, it is. And you know, I keep forgetting this is all completely new to you. I know you like the back of my hand but you barely know me at all. Don't worry, though, you'll - we'll - get there, okay?"

  I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her forehead. "Sounds good to me."

  * * *

  I woke to the sound of frying eggs and saw Nanako preparing breakfast: she was cutting fruit into thin slices and popping them into bowls of soy yogurt while eggs fried in the pan beside her. She was wearing her black over-knee socks, shorts and hoodie, and her pink and black wig. I was glad she still dressed this way at home, for these clothes did everything for her figure. Not to mention I could lie here and stare at the mesmerising glimpse of her exposed thighs all day.

  Sadly, I had to work today, so I rose and dressed. After that, we ate breakfast together, which was so much better than me eating alone while she waited on me as per the custom in Newhome.

  "So, are you really gonna go to work today?" she asked while sipping soymilk.

  "Have to. The question is, are you gonna miss me?"

  "I dunno, I'm thinking I might get more done if you’re not around," she teased. "And I’m gonna ask your mother if I can go shopping with her so I can buy some cloth and threads to make my own clothes."

  "Sounds good," I said, and then remembered something I’d been meaning to ask her. "Hey, you haven’t told when your birthday is, just that it’s near the end of December."

  "It’s tomorrow."

  "What? Why didn’t you tell me!" I exclaimed.

  "I was hoping you’d remember."

  "That’s not fair – what if I didn’t?"

  "Then I would’ve ribbed you for forgetting my birthday for the rest of time," she chuckled.

  "Except I’d have the best excuse ever for forgetting it."

  She shook her head, her dark-pink fringe swinging gently from side to side as she leaned forward. "There’s no acceptable excuse for a guy forgetting his girl’s birthday."