by Eric Keller
“To be fair, he was a small boy, to him the good size dog likely looked massive. Plus, back then, we talked about the threat of bears all the time. And, to his credit, it was black. But, thankfully, the dog was not a menace. In fact, it seemed quite happy to have a boy to play with. I suppose he should have realized bears did not wear collars or have long tails, but I guess, in all the excitement, he overlooked those facts.”
A few more laughs.
“When it saw me, the dog abandoned the stick game and bounded over. Jake darted at it, trying to use his branch to protect me. It took me a great deal of effort to convince the child the bear was, in fact, not a bear but a dog which meant us no harm. Finally, he put down the stick and let the beast approach and scratched into its fur behind his ears. I asked Jacob why he did not run away like we taught him and he said he wanted to make sure Griff got away first.”
She thought this part of the memory would have choked her up but, seeing everyone smiling up at her, made her recall only the joyful pride she felt at that moment. She shook her head and said, “Of course, we named the friendly dog Bear, and he lived out the rest of his life perpetually at Jacob’s side.”
. . .
Normally, Harrison would not allow a patrol to have campfires in the summer but, with this many men, remaining hidden was impossible regardless and the fool they were following seemed completely clueless. Two scouts constantly tracked Jacob, leaving a trail of string tied to tree branches so the main group could leisurely follow at a distance. They could not let the boy know he was leading them to his home.
Moving a patrol of twenty-five people was proving to be an extensive exercise in logistics. Each man needed to haul their weapons as well as all the food they could manage. Regardless, morale remained fine. Anticipation serving to motivate the group. However, Harrison feared a month or more on the road would wear them all down as the excitement of the mission waned beneath sore legs while stomachs tired of stale potatoes.
Sitting around the fire for another evening, listening to the same eager plans told by the same voices, appealed even less to Harrison tonight than usual. Harrison hated all the unknowns. Not knowing what they would find. Not knowing what they would face. Not knowing what how long they needed to walk.
Realizing frustratedly that he could do nothing to address these unknowns, he decide he needed to at least undertake something useful to distract himself. Harrison tossed his tin plate on the pile to be cleaned and, not wanting to waste valuable ammunition, grabbed up a bow. Everyone grew quiet when he approached the group. He pointed at Walker and Taco, decent bowmen who would not annoy him with inane chatter, saying, “You and you, let’s go and see if we can’t find some fresh meat.”
. . .
Clarence opening the cell door had surprised Kinma. Using a serious tone that did not match his nervous, twitchy nature, Clarence unlocked the padlock and explained he was freeing her only on the understanding she was now his. Kinma wanted to laugh, they were passing her around like a whiskey bottle on payday.
Numerous days spent in the darkness filled with fear and worry and grief left her mind muddled and hesitant as she squinted against the bright light of the outside world. Thankfully, the situation she found herself in did not need much intelligent surveying as the place was essentially deserted. Tall Tony, Walter, Link, and the women remained along with Kinma, Griff and Clarence. The remaining Bankers explained that a few days before her release, Harrison took off with a massive patrol to take over some settlement.
Kinma’s fleeting relief at being freed and not having to face Harrison, disappeared immediately and her heart fell. She should have known, should have known Harrison’s devious nature was at play. He left the door open on purpose and let Jacob escape so he could follow him straight back to Malden. She failed to see this simple scheme and convinced Jacob to go. Hell, she gave him directions.
Clearly, Harrison wanted all the healthy, fit men who could survive the trip in fighting form with him because he only left the weakest behind. Tall Tony, in his fifties, slow-moving and perpetually ill. Link, who she figured must be suffering from lung cancer as he coughed up blood with every other breath. Walter had been shot twice in the leg attacking the Preppers with Hale and remained far from recovered. Most of the women were physically strong enough to travel but years of living tough lives of abuse made it unlikely they could keep up with the patrol, plus they might be unpredictable in the new setting and could cause dispute amongst the men. Harrison must have decided they were not worth the hassle given that they were marching to fresh conquests. The only fully able person remaining was Clarence who constantly strutted around with the handgun eagerly displayed on his hip.
To Kinma it was obvious, Harrison had abandoned Thule for good, leaving those he thought were useless or troublesome behind on the pretence of protecting the home front. Clarence, however, did not reach this conclusion as he continually barked out orders about maintaining the building and storing food in preparation for everyone’s return. The others seemed to understand better than him but were apparently content in their less crowded home with decent supplies, so they placated Clarence by slowly following his pointless demands.
The penetrating ache over the loss of Hale was compounded with fresher worries over Jacob and his home. With Jacob’s stories filling her mind, she knew she could not simply allow that existing vestige of humanity to burn or rot like this place. If Hale had known about Jacob’s home, he would want to save it, needed to save it. Kinma’s decision was made instantly and easily.
Being four days behind the patrol meant she needed to move immediately, but she could not simply abandon Griff without a word. She found him sitting alone outside the main doors, a blanket over his slumped shoulders and a plate of lumpy cornmeal on his lap. Surprising he was upright as, in the light of day, it had become clear his injuries were worse than they thought back in the cell.
A wide, deep purple bruise covered his lower back with black bruises along his left side. His piss came out an alarming orange color. A severe injury to the kidneys with internal bleeding along with the remnants of a concussion was her unprofessional diagnosis. Remarkable he survived, and now he clearly needed a long spell of bed rest.
Sitting next to him, she said, “Nice to see you out and about, I thought you’d be laid up for a few more days at least.”
Shifting slightly but not looking up at her, Griff winced and muttered, “I’ve got to get moving. Gotta get going.”
Apparently, Griff had spoken with the others too. He forced down a spoonful of the gruel, grimaced and said, “Have to go, have to find Jacob. That asshole is following him. We should’ve seen it. I need to get to him before he accidentally leads the monsters right to Malden.”
Kinma briefly considered the possibility of taking Griff with her, but he could barely even sit up, and they would need to move fast and long. She asked, “You think you’re strong enough to chase a patrol cross country?”
He sighed with fatigue and discomfort. “You know, I’ve been trying to think, but I can’t, you know, I can’t recall.”
“Recall what?”
“Whether I’ve ever gone a day without seeing Jake. And, I can’t, I can’t remember a single day. Sounds weird, I know, but ever since we were kids we’ve spent all our time together, at the very least saw each other every day, even if we were sick or whatever. Seems wrong that I don’t know where he is, what he’s doing. I mean, I can’t even contemplate Tina being gone, not yet anyhow. But I understand being separated from Jacob is wrong, I understand that wrongness requires me to act.”
Kinma wanted to tell him she thought Jacob and Malden would be fine, but she could not lie to the battered boy. Not sure what to say, she dumbly said, “I can understand that. You’ve gone through hell.”
He continued with a minor scoff, “And I know Jacob. Funny thing is, the thing I worry about the most, is how he’ll react when he realizes he was followed. He’ll hate himself even though it ain’t his fault. He’s the kind of guy who blames himself when it rains. You know anyone like that?”
Immediately thinking of Hale, Kinma felt a hitch in her throat when she said, “Yeah, I do. I did.”
“Anyway, I’ve got to get on my feet again, got to get moving. I never should’ve let him go alone.”
Griff forced himself to eat the mushy cereal and vainly tried to stretch his limbs. Kinma could see the resolve on his face, and she thought back to all she had heard about Malden.
The stories. All the stories Jacob told her as they sat in the darkness, the scenes and the characters coming to life and helping her anguished mind. Children scurrying around the lodge as adults played cards in the firelight. People working side by side in a wide garden full of vegetables. Sleeping in a cabin, warm with family members under thick quilts as snow fell outside. That being eagerly and happily destroyed by a horde of unthinking brutes was unbelievably, cruelly and wrong.
Her contemplation was interrupted when Clarence strode by, the handgun prominently on his hip and Tall Tony following obediently behind. Seeing them sitting there, he said, “Come on now, Kinma, he’s still recovering, but you’re ok. There are lots of chores in need of doing, let’s be useful.”
Neither of them responded, but Clarence did not push the matter, pretending the minor disobedience was beneath his notice as he walked past. Tony, his greying, grimy beard falling to his chest, gave her a lecherous wink and licked his dry lips as they passed. She glared at the sad duo as it disappeared. Kinma could not leave the damaged boy in this damaged place.
She turned to Griff and said, “I’m going after Jacob. Eat up, you’ll need your strength if you’re coming along.”
. . .
Dinner was a handful of unripe berries and the last, shrivelled potato. Jacob’s stomach ached with hunger, but he chewed slowly, wanting the tiny amount of food to last for as long as possible. With the sun setting, he was also growing cold, but he felt too tired to build a fire, he wrapped his damp blanket around him and climbed under some pine bows.
After escaping, he had run as fast as possible. The difficult terrain mixed with his sore body and being filled with terror at the idea of Harrison catching him made it a clumsy affair. He tripped and fell and got turned around multiple times, but when the sun finally rose, Jacob figured he traveled enough distance through deep woods to be able to declare the escape a success.
Now, lying, half-starved and shivering under a tree with no idea how much longer he needed to endure, Jacob thought of the elk calf they chased after so long ago. It jumped out of the boat, desperate to get away, never considering that being in the icy river could be far worse. Realizing he may have made the same mistake as the elk, he quietly laughed into the blanket, the sound scaring him slightly.
Jacob doubted he would actually sleep, but maybe, if he managed to push away the aches, the cold and the hunger and he could conjure up pleasant memories of Louisa to fall into.
CHAPTER TWENTY-Eight
JULY 11, 2046
DAY THREE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND NINETY-ONE
As expected, the trail was easy to follow, two dozen people hauling supplies left explicit tracks. The signs of the patrol were getting fresher all the time making Kinma believe they were gaining on them. Regardless, tired and hungry she currently regretted her hasty decision to leave the comfort and food of Thule. Even though in her past, she spent a great deal of time in the wilderness, not having a stocked pantry, cooler or cupboard drained a person.
Griff handed her a nearly empty water bottle, mumbling, “We need to find water.”
Kinma nodded, having already been worried about the water supply for the last day or so. Before long they would be too hungry and thirsty to walk. Perhaps going this quickly was a huge mistake.
She said, “Let’s keep our eyes open for signs of a stream or pond. Let me know if you see any willow trees, flocks of birds, things like that.”
Griff had shown impressive resolve, pushing through his injuries and keeping up, but he still looked dangerously pale and exhausted. He said, “Ok, guess I’ll hope we see some damn birds soon.”
Before Kinma could respond, the sound of cracking branches startled her. Dusk made the trees into a mass of infuriating shadows, and she vainly scanned where the sounds came from, the hunting knife in her hand feeling shockingly inconsequential as sharp laughter came from behind her.
Kinma wheeled toward the unseen source of sound.
“Damn it, girl, you two make more noise than a herd of drunk rhinos.”
She dropped the knife into the grass, threw up her arms and darted forward. “Milo! You jerk, you scared me shitless.”
He leaned back, a massive smile splitting his black beard. “Sorry, too good to resist.”
She turned to the other prankster. “Good evening, Taco. You couldn’t talk him out of this?”
Taco, in his bright blue jacket, grinned and shrugged as he held up two rabbits. Kinma moved over, hugged Taco and took the offered meat. Griff, looking frightened, asked, “What is this? I mean, what is going on?”
Kinma turned to him. “Sorry. Don’t worry, they’re friends.”
Milo happily said, “Hey Griff. Every time I find you, you look like crap.”
Kinma asked, “I thought you went with Harrison. Are you scouting? Are we that close?”
Milo shook his head and said, “Not scouting, deserting. We bailed on the patrol the moment Harrison’s back was turned long enough to escape. We were heading back to Thule, going to check on you and deal with Clarence, do a little scavenging before finding a way to ride out our final years that didn’t involve Harrison and killing farmers. We came across your tracks up by the cutline and decided to circle back and check them out. What’re you two doing way out here?”
Kinma, not wanting to say it out loud, looked over at Griff. Milo, always seeing the angles, started to laugh, “Damn it, you’re going to try and stop Harrison from wrecking this kid’s picturesque home.”
Appreciating why he was laughing did not stop her from being annoyed at the laughing, Kinma said, “Yeah, that’s exactly what we’re doing out here.”
“Doubt I can convince you to forget this foolishness, get you to come and find a nice and peaceful life with us.”
She shook her head, “Doubt it.”
Milo sighed and looked over at Taco who merely grinned and nodded. Milo turned back to Kinma and said, “I guess then playing at saviour is what we’re all doing now.”
. . .
The last of the men who had been sent out to look returned with no information. Milo and Taco were clearly gone. Disappeared. Harrison would waste no more time or effort on them. He disliked but respected Milo and appreciated Taco’s abilities, but he could not say their disappearance overly upset him. The only reason he sent out men to look for them was a vague concern the duo might double back, looking to cause him trouble.
Their abandonment highlighted that desertion could become an issue. The patrol’s pace was too slow, the men were getting antsy. Harrison figured the kid would be soft but not this soft. He seemed wholly unable to march with any pace at all. Men from the Bank were expected to travel all day without slowing, or they would simply be left behind. Jacob infuriated Harrison by resting repeatedly or stopping to look for food. To make matters worse, the kid was walking vaguely north but, with no idea of the terrain, he needed to constantly circle around hills, gullies, and overly dense forest.
They made it to the Canzie River a couple days back where the kid turned up
stream, and Harrison hoped this easier path would speed their trip. But Jacob only went a few miles before he came across the collapsed bridge where he crossed and carried on, wandering tediously north. Now, the patrol was moving along an overgrown roadway as the kid pushed through the nearby forest, unaware of the much easier trail that existed only a quarter a mile to his right.
His patience waning, Harrison tried to make Jacob’s journey easier and quicker. He had the scouts repeatedly leave useful items in his path until the idiot found them. The carcass of a young deer. A water jug. An extra blanket. Regardless, the fool still spent half of the daylight hours napping or foraging.
Pulling out his notebook, Harrison looked up who would be going out next to keep an eye on the kid as he would go out with them. Time to hurry the kid along.
. . .
Cracking a charred rabbit bone in his teeth, Milo finally asked the question which was hanging over the campsite, “So, you have a plan?”
The realization of how far they were behind Harrison’s army worried Kinma as she was not sure they could catch them but, at least, the distance meant they could light a fire without fear of detection. Despite the warmth from the food drawing forth her ingrained fatigue Kinma, grateful for the pleasant company, stayed awake with Milo sitting on the non-smoky side of the fire while Griff and Taco snored underneath nearby pines.
Kinma poked at the embers and said, “Don’t really have one, right now I’m only hoping to catch up before they get to this mythical village. If we somehow manage that feat, then I get to worry about step two.”
Milo tossed the chewed bone into the fire. She always was jealous of Milo, of his relationship with Hale. The two of them could sit on the rooftop, their feet up on the railing, watching the nothingness below and not speak of anything for hours, neither of them finding this odd. Or, they could be sitting at a table with other people, share a look and laugh at something unknown to everyone else. More importantly, while Hale discussed things with Kinma, it normally came at her prodding, and the discussion always involved explanations. With Milo, conversation came organically with no extraneous explanations needed.
