Gleanings

by Alice Sabo

  “Yo.” Martin acknowledged him as he dumped his pack of meat into the back of the van.

  Wisp waited for him to walk over. “Big group coming.” He pointed in the direction he felt the people.

  “How big?”

  “Over fifty, I can’t differentiate much over that.”

  “Trouble?”

  “They’re too far out to tell.”

  Martin’s eyes widened a fraction. He patted his belt for his radio, which he’d left on the dashboard of the van. “I’ll send out a scout,” he said as he headed for the front of the van.

  Chapter 7

  When the last train food factories failed, we hit our final crisis. If we could not band together to grow and prepare food for the coming winter, we would not survive.

  History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss

  BRIDGET WALKED ALONG the inside of the perimeter fence. The soldiers had worn a path through the persistent brambles over the years. The day was heating towards a scorcher, and her clothes were chafing in all the worst places. A rustle in the woods on the other side of the fence made her stop to investigate. After the world changed, the woods did, too. They were too quiet. But in the last few years, there were more normal sounds out there: birdsong and the squeaks and chirps of small rodents. One of the night-shift guys had been pushing for a hunt. She’d be happy to eat squirrel if it would give her a break from Stew-goo every day.

  Although she peered into the undergrowth, she couldn’t find the source of the rustling. It was a relief that some things might be coming back to normal. It didn’t solve their problem, though. They were stationed here at the Depository forever. There would never be new orders because there wasn’t an army anymore. Just the 342 of them protecting this building. She worried that one day the men would stop listening to General Dunham. But that would only be the ones that hadn’t been out there. It had taken her over six months to get here. After the riots. When things were breaking down fast. Her unit had had 100 troops when they left Montana in the spring. Between the flu and the fighting, only 24 of them had arrived in early fall.

  She was a part of a small army, but it was the real army. There were rumors of splinter groups elsewhere in the country, but nothing had been confirmed. Dunham had sent scouts out a few times, but none of them came back. They may have died of the flu, or fallen down a ravine, crushed by a falling tree in a bad storm. There were a lot of reasons for men not to return. But the fact of them all not returning was daunting.

  She continued her walk along the perimeter, eyes wide, ears open, not sure what she wanted to find. This year they lost another 35 men to the flu. She rounded the building and looked out on the graveyard. Dunham made sure that everyone was buried properly, and a marker of some sort put up. She had to admit that he was a smart man and a good leader. But he was getting old and tired. They all were. What was the point of keeping this place safe?

  Bridget stopped there because she knew what came next. They might be the only people left in the world. Guarding this place gave them purpose. The building was isolated, deep in a state forest with only one road in. The whole time they’d been here only one man had found them. He arrived during a winter’s storm and died of exposure within a day. It had been a reminder that there might not be anywhere else that was safe. They would continue to guard this building until the flu took them all.

  Chapter 8

  The factories producing the Stew-goo and Crunch had already been on the decline when the flu of Year Ten hit. They had been replacing lost workers with whoever the press gangs could deliver. Many worked against their will under the watchful eyes of armed guards. As soon as the number of men with guns dwindled to a certain point, mutinies could be expected.

  History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss

  TILLY SETTLED INTO the comfortable armchair in Angus’s office. “Why do you get to sit in here all day while I’m running around all over the place?” She added a smile to soften the words.

  “Actually my dear most of my work happens here,” he said, tapping his forehead.

  She snorted. “What are we discussing?” She glanced around at the empty chairs wondering who else was expected.

  “Expansion.” Angus sat next to her, settling a stack of papers in his lap. He took her hand just as she was about to protest. “I know this is difficult for you, but we’re bursting at the seams.”

  “I know. I just don’t like everyone being all over the place.” His presence was calming despite the topic. They never seemed to have time for just being together. She squeezed his hand and got a warm smile in return.

  “It’s a good sign that we have reached capacity. I didn’t expect it to happen this soon. But we have some very capable people with us now. Capable and eager to help.”

  “Logistics,” she grumbled. He kissed her fingers, and she knew he was trying to soften her up.

  “I know. That’s why I want to do a dry run with the new currency.”

  “It’s going to slow down the food lines.”

  Angus chuckled softly. “Do you remember paying for food? We’ll get back in the habit quickly.”

  “I’ll need a supply of coins for my newcomers. We can’t start asking for payment from people who haven’t had a chance to pitch in. I’ll need at least a couple days worth of meals depending on how healthy they are.”

  “Excellent.” Angus scribbled some notes on the papers in his lap “I knew you’d have concerns I hadn’t thought about.”

  “We’re going to need signage for the cafeteria. Who’s going to do that?”

  “Already taken care of.”

  “And cash boxes. And what about change?”

  “It’s all in the signage. I spoke with Eunice and Mary about having someone collect the money before people get in line. We might just run it for a few days with a select number of people—you, me, Nick, Wisp. See how that goes before we start instituting a full change over.”

  Tilly pulled out her own notebook to start making lists. “People are going to panic. What if parents don’t have enough to feed their kids?”

  Angus nodded thoughtfully. “All right let’s make a rule right now. Children under ten years of age eat free.”

  “Fourteen.”

  “Twelve.”

  “I hate it that you think making children work is okay.” Tilly couldn’t keep the scowl off her face. There were things that she wanted to control in this new world, and every time she turned around, Angus was taking one more thing away from her.

  “Ted’s kids have already earned enough to start a savings account. I think we may need a banker soon,” he said with a teasing smile.

  Tilly wasn’t going to give in to his charms that easily. “When did you start paying them?”

  “As soon as the coins were made. I thought they would be a good group to start with. They are more savvy about things than some of the others.”

  “And some of them are younger than twelve. If they can eat for free, what are they going to do with their money?” Lately, she’d found herself playing devil’s advocate more often than she liked.

  Angus’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “They have already started hiring each other for chores.”

  Tilly groaned out a sigh. “I don’t think I like where this is going.”

  Angus waved away her complaint. “I imagine we will have more difficulty with people who have been with us longer. Someone like Lottie might feel slighted that she gets the same amount to start with as everyone else when she’s been working so hard for the settlement.”

  “And me,” Tilly said flatly. “What’s my wage?”

  “Your...” Angus frowned at her.

  “What are you going to pay yourself?” She was quite pleased to see a look of befuddlement on his face.

  “Perhaps we should ask the governing committee to set a wage for us.”

  She was just about to start in on an argument she knew she couldn’t win when an alarm started howling.

  Chapter 9

  Luck
ily there were a few working farms that had been supplying the Stew-goo and Crunch factories. When the crew in those factories revolted, effectively shutting them down, the supply chain disintegrated. Farms are not so easily foiled. That food was then up for grabs to whoever could negotiate the best deal.

  History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss

  WISP WHEELED A CART, which was piled with the Hunters’ packs of meat, down the back hallway to the kitchen door just as the alarm sounded. Martin had created a set of alarms with a specific meaning: siren for storm warning, repeating horn blasts for battle stations and church bells for unspecified danger. Although that last one made him chuckle, the people needed to be prepared to hunker down.

  Eunice came out of the kitchen to supervise the delivery of the meat and to mark the book for credit to the Hunters’ account. She gave Wisp a nervous look. “What do the bells mean again?”

  “Just a warning. There’s a group of people approaching. We’re not sure who they are.”

  “Probably hungry, though,” she said with a firm nod. “Mary!” she shouted into the kitchen, “Company coming.”

  Wisp was impressed by her composure. Her initial alarm was smothered by duty and trust. She seemed to have no doubt that the Watch, and its new counterparts the Rovers and Sentinels, would keep her safe. He agreed with her assessment, but he’d had first-hand experience with the men and women on the new front line.

  Eunice struggled with the tightly wrapped bundles. Wisp helped her untie the ropes and peel back the bloody tarps to expose the meat. She poked it and sniffed it intently. “Venison?”

  “Elk.”

  “How come you’re bringing this in?” Eunice asked.

  “Brad was hurt. The Hunters are all in the infirmary.”

  “Oh. I am sorry to hear that.” Eunice frowned, and Wisp could feel a seesaw of concern and guilt in her.

  “Are they supplying a lot of meat?” Wisp asked.

  Her guilt increased. “We’ve got so many people to feed right now,” she confessed. A ripple of relief following her words made Wisp realize that regardless of how capable she looked, she was under tremendous pressure.

  “He broke his leg,” Wisp informed her. She stared at him, and he knew she needed more. “A compound fracture like that could be a death sentence in the wild. If the pain and blood loss didn’t kill you, infection probably would. And even if he survived that, the limb would be weaker if it wasn’t set perfectly. He’s very lucky to have skilled doctors available.”

  Eunice gave him another firm nod. “Better get this in the cooler.” She tugged the cart around and pushed it into the kitchen.

  Wisp ducked into the dish room to wash his hands. Then curiosity made him head for the new Strategy Room. One of the Rovers had dubbed it the War Room, pinning up a handwritten sign. Angus didn’t like the name and made him change it. It was a classroom by the front door with a working live wall and a few rows of chairs. Nick and Martin were already there. A few more members of the Watch and Sentinels entered behind Wisp.

  “What do we know?” Angus asked as he entered the room. Tilly was right behind him.

  “A large group of people moving slowly toward us,” Martin reported. “I’ve got a couple scouts checking them out.” Martin’s words were calm and measured, but there was a rumble of anxiety below them.

  This close, Wisp could feel the emotions in the room range from fear to excitement. There were a number of new members of the Sentinels that were eager to show their worth. Martin was working with two radios. One was giving him reports on how well people were following direction to the various safe zones. The other was a count off of the Sentinel placements. The furthest sentinel posts reported in through relays giving an “all quiet”.

  “Sounds like there aren’t any other groups flanking us,” Martin said gruffly.

  “That’s a relief,” Tilly said. Wisp was surprised at how level her emotions were. Despite her comment, she didn’t seem worried at all. Another sign of the trust people had in Martin’s men.

  The Sentinel’s radio clicked. “Go ahead,” Martin answered.

  “We got a lot of refugees here. We’re gonna need transport and water right away.”

  “Do you need the medics out there now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where’s Emergency Services?” Martin asked, scanning the room.

  Coco stepped forward. “I’ve got two vans ready to go.”

  Wisp was surprised at how quickly she had recuperated once she was reunited with her son Willboy, who now preferred to be called Willy. Her trials before coming to High Meadow were not spoken of, which worried Wisp. But she felt a strong sense of belonging here. She had worked for a plumbing company as a dispatcher and had been happy to take on the coordination of the new first responders.

  “Send ‘em out,” Martin said.

  She walked out of the room, speaking on her radio, Willy on her heels. Tilly was close behind her. “I’ll warn the kitchen and the Greeting Committee.”

  “On their way,” Martin said into the radio.

  “We’re going to need more hands out here, Cap.”

  Martin’s men wanted him to have a rank. After a lot of discussion and dissension, he begrudgingly had accepted the title of Captain. “I’ll get em out there as soon as possible.”

  Wisp knew what was coming next when Martin raised an eyebrow in question at him. “I’ll walk a perimeter,” he acknowledged. It was something he wanted to do anyway.

  He filled a couple of bottles with water, grabbed a first aid kit and a radio for his pack before heading out. He jogged down the driveway and up the road toward Barberry Cove. The further away he got, the easier it was to block the people in the building. Soon he was able to lower his barriers, and he began to sense the cluster of refugees.

  The low sun cast long shadows on a stack of stones marking a newly cut path into the woods. He followed the trail. The Watch patrolled the High Meadow vicinity. The Sentinels were being set up in posts on the borders of the area Angus was claiming. The Rovers watched anything in between, constantly moving through the area. New trails like this were being established every day.

  The path wound through trees and around boulders in the dim light of the forest. Wisp covered ground in an easy lope, the pack snugged to his back. On the backside of a ridge, he stopped at a rest point. A fallen tree had been fashioned into a bench. There was also a small storage locker with water, train food, first aid and a radio. The bench would work as a safe place while he searched. Although he usually liked to put his back to a sturdy tree, this was easier. He settled on the bench before closing his eyes and reaching out his senses in every direction.

  Since he had vetted most of the newcomers, it was easy for him to identify who was where. A thick throb of emotions behind him indicated High Meadow. Beyond that he could feel a few people on the roads, but nothing out of the ordinary. He pushed his senses out to the directions where there shouldn’t be people. A flicker far off to one side felt familiar and was probably a Rover. To the other side a cluster of small minds, a herd of deer most likely. Wisp tried to pinpoint it to tell the Hunters. They were tracking the handful of large game in the area to be sure not to take more than the recovering populations could handle. On second thought, it might be the missing herd of horses. He’d need to mention that to Harlan and Everett. They’d want to bring them back in, if possible.

  He pulled back, realizing he was covered in sweat and breathing hard. Mental work could be as hard as climbing a mountain. He took a two-minute break and drank some water before tackling the next scan. Tree branches swayed above him in a brisk wind. The light dimmed as a cloud covered the sun. Wisp could smell rain in the air. The weather patterns were changing again. After the long, chilly weeks of rain and fog, they were finally back to dry hot days of summer. They hadn’t had any violent storms yet, but with the way the days were heating up, that wasn’t far behind.

  Wisp reached out again, finding the mass of refugees easily. There we
re more than he’d expected. The main group was already with the Sentinels, but he could feel a ragged trail of pain and fear miles back. He took the radio out of his pack but got no reception. He hiked back up to the ridge before a crackle told him he was in range. “Wisp here.”

  “Martin here. What have you got?”

  “Sick and injured extending back a couple miles.”

  “Anyone watching?”

  Wisp understood Martin’s cryptic question. Was this flood of refugees a ruse to get them looking in the wrong direction? “Nothing I can feel right now.” A warm breeze lifted the loose hairs on the back of his neck. “Better check the weather station. Feels like a change is coming.”

  There was no response. He assumed Martin had someone run out to the weather station to check the barometric pressure. The radio clicked. “Damn, you’re good. Pressure’s dropping fast.”

  “How long do we have?” Wisp asked.

  “They’re putting together a timeframe now, but it doesn’t look good. It’ll be dark in an hour. Storm will probably be here before then. Come on back, I’ll want you out on the front line.”

  Wisp wasn’t sure when they stopped asking and started telling him where to go and what to do. And he wasn’t sure why that didn’t bother him. He liked that they needed him and appreciated his skills. He liked the safety of knowing that no one here would kill him for simply being who he was. He enjoyed the fresh food prepared by skilled cooks. Most of all, he appreciated Angus’s vision of what could be. But a restless thread of resistance in the back of his mind asked if that was enough in exchange for his freedom.

  Chapter 10

  Once more people were on the move. This time, they had no guidance. They wandered the country searching for safety.

  History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss