Future Rebuilt: A Post-Apocalyptic Harem (Future Reborn Book 2)

by Daniel Pierce

  “A gap? Why?” Mira asked.

  “Call me a hopeless optimist, but I think we should start making space for homes. We’ll have more people, and they’ll need to live somewhere. When they arrive and prove their value, they can build. By having a plan, we grow in a smart way, instead of chaotic streets and random channels of flowing water. The wheel shape works, but only if people can live in concentric rings. Better for defense, and better for order,” I said.

  “What will they build their houses from, Jack?” Natif asked. He touched a sizzling piece of pork, burned his fingers, and stuck them in his mouth with a rueful grin.

  “There’s plenty of stone for foundations, and we can run water to each house if they’re lined up the right way. I think we plan on two materials—wood and stone. That’s one of the reasons we need a sawmill. Or at least, we need a way to cut big lumber. If we can, it changes things. We can think beyond a simple house. We can build walls. Towers. All of the things we need to repel an attack,” I said.

  “But we’re not under attack,” Natif protested.

  “We will be,” Doss said. “As soon as word of this gets out, people will want to live here. That’s great, because we need the help, but when someone comes who we don’t want?” He chopped his hand down onto one knee, hard. “We got a fight.”

  “Are we ever gonna eat?” Korina asked, pouring tea that had cooled somewhat. She was handing cups around while her brother fetched more water. The tea was different than water, which kept me from going insane while we figured out a way to brew beer, or we found a random herd of cows for milk. I needed variety in my diet, just like my life.

  I took a bite of the pork. It was good. Better than good, because it wasn’t blood chicken, which doesn’t taste like chicken, but gamey turkey with an attitude. Still, it was better than starving, and we were close to having a fully producing garden system. “We can eat. Come on and get yours. There’s plenty to go around.”

  We spent the next few minutes eating in companionable silence, the night closing in slowly. The trees offered shade, cooler air, and a sense of security from the wide-open skies that made The Empty seem vaguely dangerous, even on a sunny day. I did some quick math and made a decision about planting the next day. It was time to put plans into motion for the Free Oasis as more than a community, but a hub, and the fulcrum upon which we could build a society.

  “If we protect the water from evaporation, how far can we expect it to flow outward form the springs?” I asked everyone. I knew we would eventually hit a limit to how far the water would travel, limiting the size of our town. I needed ideas to combat that, and right away.

  “Three things,” Doss Harling said, pointing down a row of trees where water ran on either side. “We’ve got plenty of water right now, too much in fact. We don’t have to save it because there’s only the few of us. That’s gonna change, like you’re thinking.”

  “Give me the ideas in order, based on what you think will work. Then we can pick one and move forward. We’re planting tomorrow, and I want us to have a plan in motion for when this forest gets big enough to change the way we live,” I said.

  “It already has,” Lasser said. “But soon, it will be too big for us to think of as a garden. It will be a thing all its own, a place, and we will go from tenders to invaders. Life will find the trees, and we must make certain that we’re welcome in our own homes.”

  “It’s already happening. Birds, small animals—they’re all here, and it will only get better. I see it as a good thing, but you’re right. We need to make sure the forest provides us with protection as well as a home. The two are different. What’s your first idea, Doss?” I asked.

  “Mud,” he said.

  “Mud?” I asked. “There’s more, right?”

  “Indeed. Mud tiles. Long, flat, baked in the sun. We cover the channels with them, and they keep the sun away from the water. Make the tiles easy to move, and we can slide them outward along the channels, because the trees provide cover in the forest. The saplings and vegetable areas can’t. We can probably—” He thought for a moment, chewing. “—extend the flow of the springs by a full klick to the west, maybe a klick and a half in every other direction. There’s a rise to the west; it will cause the water to pond. Which brings me to my second idea.”

  “Go ahead,” I said. He was sharp. The idea already sounded good.

  “A pond or a series of cisterns. Or both. Make that the second and third ideas, but they would work together and let us build the Oasis outward. Make a hub of homes around a cistern, instead of a ring of homes. You see the logic?” he asked.

  Mira did. So did Silk. Silk spoke first. “The ring of homes would get too wide to protect, and we would continually be building outward in thin lines of defense. We can—”

  “Build hubs and then build an outer wall,” I finished. “Then, as people arrive, we can build a second wall, but that only happens if we add one critical thing.”

  “Which is?” Silk asked.

  “More water,” I said.

  “We already have it,” Doss said. “To the east, three hundred meters. You know the clump of succulents?” He pointed across the forest to an invisible depression filled with a colony of fat-leaved plants that looked like broad, spineless cacti.

  “Sure. You think there’s water there?” I asked.

  “I know it. Those succulents wouldn’t be there if there wasn’t a source. How deep it is, I don’t know, but their roots can’t go more than ten meters. What if we build our cistern there, stone the walls of the well, and start planting a second forest. We connect the two by a road and triple the size of the oasis before people can begin settling here.” He grinned, then added, “With your permission, of course.”

  “I’ve always wanted to be an emperor. Just didn’t know it would be in Oklahoma,” I said, laughing.

  “What’s Oklahoma?” Natif asked.

  “All around you. This used to be called Oklahoma, but now you call it The Empty. Would have worked as a name in my time, too, but we have a chance to reclaim it.” I rubbed my hands together, thinking. “It’s a good idea, Doss. More water is good, and covering the channels will let us extend our irrigation. Three ponds, then one cistern, and we mark out a place for a defensive wall at some point in the future. I don’t like having all of this wealth with our asses hanging out exposed to the next petty tyrant who thinks they can take control of the world.”

  “That’s your job, right?” Mira asked, reaching out to touch my face. Her lips were curled up in the hint of a laugh.

  “I’ve always wanted to wear a crown. Just make sure it isn’t gold,” I said.

  “Why? Gold is fancy,” Fleura said, grinning.

  “Yeah, but whoever wears a gold crown never keeps their head for very long. I like mine attached,” I said. “Okay, in the morning Doss can show us how to make tiles out of mud, and we’ll get on tree detail. Let’s build an empire.”

  “I’d settle for a comfortable bed,” Mira groused.

  I drew close as everyone began standing to go off on their own for the moment, my voice low and in her ear. “I’ll be under you. Don’t worry about being comfortable.”

  Her answer was a hand on my leg and a smile filled with promise.

  3

  “Wagon approaching,” Fleura said. “Single, three ogres. Coming from the northwest.”

  “Let’s make ready to greet them,” I said, moving along the path without a backward glance. Natif was already in motion, rounding everyone up. He’d been marking three rows for new saplings, a practice we found much more sensible given the irritation of hauling young trees through hallways and stairs. We would load five at a time, staging them just out of the sun so they didn’t wilt in the open central area where the stairwell emerged into the heart of our Oasis.

  “Any idea who?” Mira called, joining me. Silk was with her, both their faces grim with the unknown.

  “Don’t think it’s hostile. Too small for a raiding party, and damned stupid if they a
re,” I said. “What’s that?” I pointed to a shadowed form, high above and looping a lazy circle.

  “Not a blood chicken. Too big for a hawk,” Mira said. She had a hand held over her eyes at an angle, shielding herself from the worst of the morning sun.

  Lasser was some distance away, emerging from the trees. He held a pistol low, barrel down and head titled as he considered the unusual shape. “Not an eagle, either. Far too large.”

  “Something new, then, and following our guests with some interest. Mira, grab your rifle just in case. Let’s greet the wagon and keep an eye on the sky.” In the desert, there was lack of context to judge how big things were, even when they were fairly close. That was a problem, because I had the suspicion whatever made lazy circles over—

  “It’s Derin,” Mira said, her voice raised with excitement. “And Scoot, too!” She began trotting out into the open, hailing the pair as they waved from the wagon seat. The ogres began to slow, and Scoot leapt down to hand them a wooden bowl, filling it from a skin as the beasts stood panting in the sun.

  I felt the same twinge, watching the ogres drink slowly then wipe their mouths with broad, furred hands. So close to us, and we did this to them. Someday, I’ll find out who.

  I cupped my hands to bellow a greeting when a shadow raced across the ground, the shape a massive delta. “Scoot, down!” I shouted, but she was already diving to the sands, her father raising his gun in a desperate attempt to track the streaking shape.

  The predator slammed into the lead ogre like a freight train, sending the ogre’s head skyward in a spurt of hot blood. It turned for another pass as the ogre slumped over, limp and dead, dragging its yoke mate to the ground in a hooting frenzy. The other ogres went back-to-back, instincts kicking in as they raised their spade-like hands in a defensive posture. They were slow but hideously strong, and if the attacking flyer came close enough to grab, I had no doubt they would tear it apart before we could intervene.

  I waved at Derin to get his attention. His rifle was trained in our general direction, and as fast as the unknown killer was flying, I didn’t like his chances with a rifle shot.

  I raised my shotgun and waited as the stone-colored beast finished its turn, a long neck and open maw greeting me as it came due south in a blur. Unlike some hunters, I believe in the power of shooting as soon as your target is in range.

  Like now.

  I fired twice, the first cloud of shot shredding the left wing of the beast, sending it into a savage yaw that brought the stubby tail around to catch my second shot, which pulped the ass end with a spectacular spray of gore.

  The monster crashed skull first into the ground, sending gravel and sand flying as the wide breastbone dug a trench like a plow, stopping with a brutal crack as the chest hit a stone. Flipping end to end, the monster slid to a stop between me and the dead ogre, twitching in surface spasms that made the dark gray skin seem alive with electrical current. The mouth—a long, narrow passage with triangular teeth—snapped shut like a coffin as the round, black eyes glazed over in death. Snot bubbled out of a hole at the top of a head ridge shaped like a knife, extending backward from the graceful snout. The bat-like fingers tensed once and fell still as the creature voided its bowels onto the sand in an ammoniac spray.

  “Well that’s fucking gross,” I said.

  “Smells like fish and—um, dead fish,” Mira said with a shrug. “What is it?”

  “Damned if I know. I’m new here. Like a dinosaur, but without the long tail,” I said, looking over the winged terror. It was a hunter, all right, but unlike any animal that had been in the skies for sixty-five million years or more. “Great. Fucking dragons are back, too.”

  “Dragon?” Lasser asked. He’d joined the entire party staring down at the beast as blood seeped from the constellation of wounds from my buckshot.

  “Pterosaur, we called them, or rather scientists did, but not really. It’s not a natural creature, at least not in my time. Or yours, either, given the reaction?” I asked Mira.

  “Never seen one, but then again, we’ve never had a forest here. The Empty has been dead for a long time,” she said.

  “If you plant it, they will come,” I mused, thinking that I’d made a mistake in assuming everyone who showed up to the Oasis would be friendly. The flying lizard with an attitude proved that theory wrong. “How long had it been overhead, Derin?”

  “Not long. Spotted us just south of the last rocky outcroppings. You know the ones east of the path?” Derin said, taking my offered hand.

  “So a southern critter. Good to know. Seems like the kind of thing that would live along coasts for some reason, but I’m not sure. Scoot, you okay?” I asked her.

  “I’m okay. Ogres are sad,” she said, her face wrinkled with concern.

  “Do they grieve like we do?” I said.

  “Sort of. It’s slower for them—everything is—but we’ll bury the big guy and let the others wander around in the forest, if that’s okay?” Derin asked.

  “Fine with us. There’s water, and we can feed them if necessary,” I said, as Scoot urged the remaining ogres forward, their mournful groans sounding like a funeral dirge. “What’s in the wagon?”

  “A forge. An anvil. Everything I have, and everything you need. How’s that for starters?” he asked, smiling broadly.

  “You are a welcome sight, friend. Glad you took me up on that offer. Wetterick getting out of hand?” I asked.

  “He’ll lose control of the post in three months. The Hannahs hold control over Silk’s place, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they showed up here, too. They were rounding up wagons as we left, but we couldn’t wait for them. The post is done. Kassos sent traders to clean us out, and I knew what was coming next. Packed up in the dark and made off without a word. It was the only way to get free without Wetterick trying to take a cut. Or all of it. You’ll see,” Derin said.

  “Armor?” I asked.

  “And weapons, but a lot of materials, too. I remember what you said, Jack, and I know you need me. I need you too, and so does Scoot. All we want is a chance,” he said.

  “You have it, and more. Welcome to the Free Oasis,” I told him, waving my arm to indicate his new home.

  “Smells good. You cooking?” Derin asked.

  “A pig the size of a house. If you’re hungry, you’ve come to the right place. Pick a spot for your forge, and we’ll start dropping the heavy stuff now. We’re planting this afternoon, but you come first,” I told him.

  “Pork and freedom. It’s like a story made real,” Derin said with a laugh. “I have a suggestion about the forge?”

  “It’s your field of expertise. Tell me,” I said.

  “It should be away from where Scoot and I will live, and away from everyone else, too. Lots of heat and noise, you know,” Derin said.

  “Let’s pick the spot. We can use your shop as the heart of our official crafter’s district, and plan for growth around it. You’ll need access to water, right?” I asked him.

  “Water, sand. A safe place for cooling racks would be good, and a roof. I don’t necessarily need walls, but out here any wind would be welcome,” he said.

  “Then follow me. I’ve got an idea.” I led him, along with everyone else, to an outer location, free from the trees and in open air. It was on the eastern side of the Oasis, closer to the place we would make our second habitat.

  When we arrived, he looked around, curious but uncertain. “Why here?”

  “We’re sinking a well over there, and then we’re going to build a wall. This will be a defensible position, but also livable. We’re not building a prison. You can put your shop here, and we’ll expand north and south from your place to make a row of crafters. There are three channels here, and plenty of water. It will work,” I said.

  “It will. Mind if I sketch an outline?” he asked.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Scoot? Opposite side mark our lines,” he told his daughter, who marched across the sand across from him. They stepp
ed off a circle, then a square attached to it. “The forge will go here. The rest is our shop, and access for everyone else. I’ll put a low wall for safety. Is there stone nearby?”

  “More than we can ever use. There are a dozen outcroppings in a half klick, and that’s not using any of the ruins that I know are nearby,” I told him.

  “Then this is the place.” He approached and shook my hand with a wide smile. “Thank you for this, Jack. It’s a new beginning.”

  I looked back to where the pterosaur had fallen, my thoughts going dark. “For all of us,” I said.

  4

  “Shh,” Silk said, her leg slipping over mine, hands working down the muscles of my stomach.

  “Hey,” I whispered. There were only stars above, flaring to life through the light movement of leaves. The fire was gone, light snores coming from everyone around it. “Not that I’m complaining.”

  She kissed me, hard, then lowered herself onto me, riding in a soft rhythm. At the top of each stroke, she would hesitate, like a rollercoaster, then plunge down smoothly, waiting, watching. Her eyes were bright, her hands warm on my chest.

  We moved together in complete silence until I felt the beginning of her crest, a wave of motion that sent her eyes into a flutter. “Timing is everything,” I whispered, letting go while trying hard not to make any noise.

  Her breasts pushed into me, heavy and slick with sweat. It was a cool night, and our bodies radiated heat even as she edged to one side, but I wasn’t done with her. I put a firm hand on her hip, entering her again from the side, and we locked together, barely moving. Despite her pleasure, she was troubled. Silk was many things, but with me, she was no liar.

  “What is it?” I asked, moving inside her at a glacial pace.

  “The Hannahs will be here soon, and I don’t want to share. I have—” She pushed against me, hot with need. “—Mira in my life, but she loves you and she’s not—”

  “Trained to extract money and secrets from men with her golden kitty?” I asked, smiling.