Ryan’s road to recovery was a longer one. After busting his gut during his rehabilitation sessions, he had improved to the point that he could get around with crutches or a walking frame. However, it was hard work and he tired quickly. A tear slid down my cheek as I regarding his slim body. He’d lost so much weight in the past three months, despite my attempts to combat that by feeding him as much as I could. I wasn’t worried, though, for I knew we’d be back in the gym and drinking protein shakes as soon as he was well enough to do so.
Reaching the back corner of the warehouse, we came upon a huge pile of hardback books dumped together.
“What am I looking at? Don’t tell me you rounded up every copy of A Better Way in the town?” Ryan asked.
“Almost,” I said, smiling. A Better Way was the book the chancellor wrote to control the town’s population, disguising it as a guide to creating the perfect post-apocalyptic society.
“Why ‘almost?’ Are some copies not accounted for?”
“We didn’t force anyone to give them up. A lot of people still believe the chancellor’s way is the right way.”
“You’re kidding.”
“We’ve been following the Founders’ decrees and philosophies for a century. It’s going to take time to deprogram everyone.” And that was true throughout the town. Although it was now mandatory for girls to attend school alongside the boys, many families were still keeping their daughters home to learn housekeeping skills as per the Founders’ instructions. Some of the more progressive restaurants and clubs were openly welcoming women customers, while others still wouldn’t let them in the door.
Ryan whistled. “How did you manage to collect them all, anyway? Must have taken days.”
“Nope. Just one evening,” Romy said, moving about slowly the mound of books on her crutches.
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. We got all the high school students together – from both North End and Newhome Proper – and assigned them into small groups that doorknocked every apartment in town.”
“Impressive.” Ryan looked pleased. “Are we going to use the pages for toilet paper?”
“No, something better,” I said. “We’re going to recycle them into the new constitution that will be delivered to every citizen.”
“A fitting end for the detestable things,” Bhagya said. “Well, for most of them. I already burned mine into a pile of ash.”
“Such a wanton display of anger! Isn’t that a bit emotional for you, Bhagya?” Ryan said with a twinkle in his eye.
She stepped closer and gave him a clip over the top of the head. “That’s Miss Singhe to you, mister.”
“Watch out, Ryan, she’s not the old, cold Bhagya we came to know and love,” I said.
“Nope. The ice is thawing,” Romy added with a laugh.
“And you guys are my friends?” Bhagya asked, shaking her head.
While Bhagya and Romy wandered away to explore another part of the warehouse looking for discarded furniture to buy or borrow, I sat on a pile of books and studied Ryan’s face.
“What?” he said.
“I thought I told you not to entertain those thoughts anymore.”
“You’re a mind reader now?”
“I’ve been taking lessons from Bhagya.” I lifted an eyebrow.
“Oh good. Now you can read my body language and know when I’m lying? Don’t like the sound of that – it’s an unfair advantage.”
“Hey, I’ll take all the advantages I can get, buster,” I said, giving him a winning smile. “I want to be able to read body language like Bhagya so I can be a more effective leader. I want to know whom I can trust and when someone’s trying to pull one over me.”
“And it’s just convenient that you can read my body language too?”
“And I’m reading it loud and clear now, despite your attempts to distract me.” I reached out and placed my hands on his knees.
“Chelsea–”
“No, don’t go there again, Ryan. As I keep telling you every time you bring this up, my feelings for you are not dependant on whether you can walk normally again or not. I just want to spend the rest of my days with you, remember?”
The glimmer of doubt in his eyes faded a bit more. I would keep telling him this until there was no trace of it left. We had waited so long and fought so hard to free the town of the chancellor’s oppression so we could be together. There was no way I was going to let anything get in the way of our happiness now.
“Anyways, we’d better get going. Ethan and Nanako wanted to have dinner with us tonight,” I said, gripping the wheelchair and spinning it round.
Ryan suddenly flinched and swore and I just about had a heart attack. Because standing stock still less than a meter from us was the couple in question.
“Jones, Nanako – I hate the way you two keep appearing out of thin air like that,” Ryan growled.
“We know – that’s why we do it,” Ethan said. “Hey, when are you two gonna get hitched? What are you waiting for?”
“When I can walk down the aisle,” Ryan said, meeting my gaze.
“You can already do that,” I said.
“Note the word ‘walk,’ not hobble.”
“That blasted pride of yours.”
He didn’t reply, but he didn’t need to. His noble bearing and the pride he took in himself and his actions were two aspects of his character that drew me to him.
“What’s the latest on Anna Georgiou. You still seeing her?” Ethan asked.
“Yeah. I pop over to the psych ward every weekend,” I said.
“Is she progressing?”
“Sadly, no. When the psychologists finally managed to strip away the Round Room’s conditioning, they found it masked a deeper, more serious problem.”
“Oh?”
“Anna’s a psychopath. She looks normal on the outside but underneath lacks anything even remotely resembling a conscience. She remembers killing her sisters and doesn’t care in the slightest.”
“Can they treat her?” Nanako asked, genuinely concerned.
“They said they will try, but not to get our hopes up. She’ll probably be institutionalised for the rest of her life.”
“That’s a shame. I was hoping she could get out of the psych ward and join us. Claire’s been given a clean bill of mental health and has been released, by the way,” Ethan said.
“That’s great news. What’s she doing now?”
“She wanted to come back here, but they wouldn’t let her, not with the quarantine and all. She’s currently in discussions about going to university in Inverloch.”
“Talking about the quarantine, what do you think will happen when it’s lifted in three years?” Ryan asked.
“A lot of people will want to leave when they find out they’re allowed to go,” Ethan said.
“I don’t think it will be that simple, though,” I said. “The Victorian country towns won’t be able to cope if hundreds of Newhomers suddenly turn up, hoping to live there.”
“You have a solution?” Ethan said.
“I plan on visiting the closer towns to discuss a strategy to regulate how many Newhome immigrants they can accept per year,” I said.
“What about the opposite?” Ryan said. “People will want to migrate to Newhome too.”
“You reckon? Why would they want to do that?” Ethan asked.
“I think a lot of country folk will jump at the chance to live in a walled town where they’ll be safe from Skel and raiders,” Ryan replied.
“You know, I think you’re right.”
“We’ll probably have to make the genetic modification available to anyone willing to pay a reasonable price for it, too. Could be Newhome’s principal service to sell and trade,” I said.
“Don’t you think we should stay quiet about that and only make it available to our own citizens?” Ethan asked.
“And create an ‘us and them’ mentality with the other towns?” I said. “What do you think the other towns will say and do if they su
spect we’re breeding a race of supermen?”
“A topic to be discussed at a future council meeting,” Ryan said. He had joined the council to act as liaison between it and the Custodian police force.
Nanako stood. “That’s enough talk about work. I thought we were going on a double-date this evening.”
“You got anywhere in mind?” I asked.
“Of course,” Ethan replied. “Our friends have set up a ‘roof-top’ restaurant on top of our apartment block and are preparing a three course meal. You’ll love it, especially the view.”
“You’ll love Ethan’s no-longer-banned binoculars, too,” Nanako said.
“Okay, let’s head over there.” I gave Ryan’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze and grabbed the handles of his wheelchair. Pushing him towards the exit, I called out for Bhagya and Romy to join us. I knew Ethan said we were going on a double date, but for him that just meant more than four people.
As we went, I realised the future no longer seemed so hopeless and bleak. My life until this point had been so characterised by suffering and disappointment that I had learned not to entertain any hope for the future. I couldn’t handle the disappointment that came when those hopes were crushed.
Now I understood the extent to which I had wounded my inner self by clinging to such a pessimistic attitude. Unlike me, Ryan refused to abandon his hope that we would one day have a better future, one where the town would be free and we could be together. Not only was his hope justified, but it also gave him strength. From now on, I would let it strengthen me too.
Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.
(Proverbs 13:12)
New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011
A Note from the Author
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading my book.
I was wondering if I could ask for your help.
Could you please take a moment to leave a brief review of my book on Amazon, and also share that you read the book with your Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads friends?
Kindest Regards,
Peter R Stone
Acknowledgements
Thank you, Lord Jesus, my ever present help – You are the One in whom the nations will put their hope. Matthew 12:21.
Thanks also to:
Alice Kurata, the lovely model pictured on the book's cover to represent Nanako.
Dafeenah Jameel at Indie Designz for the amazing book covers.
Gordon A. Long, for his invaluable critique of the manuscripts, and for his assistance with revision and editing.
Juliet, for finding holes in the synopsis for me to fix and for her feedback after reading the finished manuscripts.
Faith Blum, for her editing, and comments that had me in stitches.
Ben Hamono, whose enthusiasm to read my work motivates me to write faster, and for his helpful editing.
Hannah Stone, for all the priceless chats we had while reading the book to her.
Rachel Barret and Rachel Malcom, for beta reading completed manuscripts and finding so many errors I’d missed.
Tim Steen, for his continued encouragement and editing of the manuscript.
David Caldwell, for spotting typos the rest of us had missed.
Amanda Septer for beta reading the manuscripts, spotting those errors, and for her great suggestions on how to add depth to the story
Melissa A. Craven for her wonderful editing, guidance and suggestions for improving the manuscript. Also for the laughs from comparing Australian and American lingo.
Therese Arkenberg, my new editor, for her fantastic work in editing the manuscript and pointing out areas that could be improved.
About the Author
Peter R Stone is an award-winning writer, winning the Faithwriters Writing Challenge on three separate occasions, as well as frequently being a Faithwriters Editor's Choice top ten winner. His winning entries include The Medal and Dreams Forsaken.
Peter R Stone, an avid student of history, was reading books on Ancient Greece from the age of four. Periods of interest include the ancient world, medieval era, Napoleonic times, and the Second World War. He still mourns the untimely passing of King Leonidas of Sparta and Field Marshal Michel Ney of France.
A product of the Cold War Generation, Peter Stone studied the ramifications of a nuclear missile strike when he was in his senior year of high school, learning the effects of nuclear fallout and how to (hopefully) survive it. He has ever been drawn to post-apocalyptic and dystopian novels and films, and eagerly devoured The Day of the Triffids and John Christopher's Tripod Trilogy when he was a child. He is also an avid fan of science fiction, and his favorite books include the Lensmen Series by E.E.Doc.Smith, anything by Alastair Reynolds, and the Evergence trilogy by Sean Williams.
Peter Stone graduated from Melbourne School of Ministries Bible College in 1988. He has been teaching Sunday School and playing the keyboard in church for over twenty-five years. His wife is from Japan and they have two wonderful children. He has worked in the same games company for over twenty years, but still does not comprehend why they expect him to work all day instead of playing games.
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