But now, it seemed that Redford had given up the chase, at least he hadn’t, nor any other member of the Red Chain, been back in almost a day. Chris was cautiously hopeful that the boy had lived, but he was realistically probably dead somewhere out in the woods, his body in rigor mortis.
It's funny, Chris thought. I’m more sad about Noah’s death than losing what was probably a power source for all of humanity. With the orb, Chris could have saved thousands, maybe millions, but he had always been more focused on the life in front of him than hypotheticals. To this day, he still wasn’t sure if that was a character weakness or a strength.
No, the reality was far grimmer. Realistically, even if Chris had brought back electricity, it would have just gone straight into Redford’s hands. He would have just delivered power to another madman in this mad world.
Chris heard footsteps behind him on the back porch. Without turning around, he huffed a puff of smoke, anger scratching his voice to a growl. “I haven't seen the boy at all. Come back to taunt me again, Redford?”
“No,” spoke a younger, tired voice. “I came to return a book.”
The cigarette fell from Chris’ mouth, and he turned. The youth stood with hollow cheeks, so dehydrated his skin looked like parchment. His leather jacket had been torn almost past the point of recognition. The young man’s eyes were dark with fatigue, and his hands shook like a leaf in a storm. Noah, Chris thought, trying to fight back the tears in his eyes.
The healer inside Chris instantly diagnosed the boy. He’s starting to show signs of vitamin C deficiency. He probably hasn't eaten since his escape. Needs fluids badly, maybe a bag of saline—wish I had the equipment for it. Minor and major abrasions. Lack of sleep. He’s in bad shape.
After the shock passed, Chris pulled out another cigarette and lit it. Despite his best effort, tears fell down his cheeks and his mouth split into a grin. "What the heck am I going to do with you?"
Chapter 6
Noah opened the sliding door of the hidden cubby inside Doc’s lab, basically where he lived now. He looked back and sighed, deciding to straighten up his sleeping area later. It could wait; now was time to find his de facto landlord and protector.
As he closed the door to his living space, hiding it again, he glanced around and shook his head in amusement. The lab itself was just a small room through a secret door from the makeshift medical bay in the cabin. The lab had been where Doc Broad had spent time breaking apart old gaming consoles and electronics, trying to figure out how the Shift had really affected electricity. Doc Broad’s grandfather had built the room, but then apparently had shown it to the entire world.
“Grandpa was incredibly paranoid,” Doc had reminisced fondly to Noah, about a month after the younger man had started living at the cabin. “Everyone in the family thought he was crazy because most all of them already knew about the room. What’s the point of a secret room if you don’t keep the room secret? So, Grandpa kind of built the cubby as a last ‘eff you’ to them. I guess he got the last laugh. He figured that if people found the first hidden room, they wouldn't think to look for another hidden compartment on top of that! A secret within a secret! Honestly, it’s worked for me. But I never thought I’d need to actually use it. Then you came along…”
The secret lab seemed destined to never be a secret. Not long after the Shift, when the Red Chain had first visited Chris Broad’s cabin, Redford had somehow noticed the lab on the first day. Despite the threat of violence during the entire meeting, the then-gang leader, now raider leader hadn’t touched the lab at all. He had even encouraged Doc to keep experimenting with electronics. However, Doc Broad had quickly given up on it. With nothing to show for his time but failure after failure and no glimmers of hope, he’d started to just use the lab for storage. But then Noah had come along, and with the orb, the clever man had been able to puzzle out a few more mysteries.
“For example, electricity isn’t just gone,” Doc had once explained to Noah after his discovery. “It is inaccessible. It’s difficult to explain in layman's terms unless you’re obsessed with the physics of how electricity actually works like I am.”
Noah gave him a look to challenge that. It wasn’t like he was an idiot. He knew a little—
“Do you know anything about wave functions?” Doc countered with a sly look before Noah could say anything. “Like, do you know what a galvanometer is?”
“Erm, no.”
“Don’t worry; most people wouldn’t. As for how the electricity is behaving, I barely understand it myself,” Doc conceded.
Sometime after that, Doc had confided some of his regrets from before the Shift. Sometimes the clean-shaven man fantasized about having pursued his passion in physics and energy in college instead of just doing what every other Broad in his family had done. He had just sort of bowed to tradition. Noah had related to the story on some level, and he’d felt bad for the other man, but also somewhat comforted. If even a man as smart as Christopher Broad could have regrets, maybe anyone could. Doc really was a genius, after all.
The energetic, smoking man had explained that by the age of eight, he’d been able to list every bone and muscle in the human body, along with their general function. At nine, his parents had taught him all of the most important medical stitches. In the beginning, his study had just been a fun competition between him and his siblings. Then after a few years of always winning, he’d grown bored, and had also realized that his parents had already picked his path in life out for him. He was supposed to be another doctor, of course.
Doc’s ability had become a curse after the Shift. His compulsion to help everyone had been borne in part because he had the skills to do so. He could never back down from helping others, even at the risk to his own life. Retreating to his family’s cabin to survive the apocalypse had been as much about living remotely as it was for safety.
And today, months after showing up to the cabin and being allowed to live there, Noah finally located Doc and asked, “Any update today?” The question was probably getting old, but Noah still couldn’t help asking every day. Out of habit, he used the cracked purple orb in his hand to expand his hearing, making sure no one was around except for the two of them. So far it’s safe, he thought. If anyone comes by, I’ll just go back into the cubby. Noah felt extremely jumpy these days. Ever since Redford had snuck up on him months before, he didn’t take safety or privacy for granted and usually searched for sounds of others at least once per hour.
Doc shook his head as he walked past a pile of empty cigarette cartons. “I'm close,” he answered. “Well, I—never mind, I don’t want to show you anything until it’s concrete. It’s also not enough that only I understand what I’m doing. I need to make sure that if something happens to me, you could hand someone else my findings and they’d be able to understand my research.
That made sense to Noah, and he slowly nodded. The two of them walked to the back porch as Noah cradled the orb in his hand. They had come close to being caught a few times by members of the Chain that Redford had sent back to spy on Doc. Chris Broad remained valuable enough that Red wouldn’t kill him for no reason, not with the orb being “missing.” Doc could still treat slaves. All that would change if the Chain ever discovered Noah there, though. So far, every time other people had come around, Noah had escaped into his hidden cubby. Luckily, the remote cabin didn’t get many visitors.
Redford would never accept that Noah was dead - a fact that had been confirmed by Doc. The last time he’d spoken to the Red Chain leader, the man had stated as a fact that he’d get the orb back. Then he’d threatened Doc, telling him he’d better not move from the cabin or try to escape. Red still intended to bring him the orb for experiments after he managed to recover it. Noah shook his head at the memory of Doc’s story. Then thinking about Red also reminded him of how he’d eluded the Chain.
The evening he’d finally made it back to the cabin, sure that he had eluded the Chain, he’d felt like death walking. Apparently, he’d looked l
ike it too, because Doc’s face had gotten white as a sheet when they’d met. Then the crying man had asked him how he’d survived.
Noah had asked for water first, then explained how he’d heard the Chain warning each other about traps in the woods. There hadn’t been any real purpose for the traps, not made around the cabin, so Noah had reasoned the raiders had been practicing wilderness skills. They might have been hedging their bets to create early warning against ambushes, too. Most folks visiting Doc took the trail, and the slight man had never mentioned anyone dying in the woods, so he probably hadn’t known the surrounding forest had been trapped either.
The night of the escape, after Noah had heard about the traps, he’d started looking for a hole. Some crazy part of Noah’s mind had told him that a trap might be one of the last places Redford would check for him…if the Chain even remembered where they’d placed them all in the first place. To this day, Noah couldn’t tell if the thought had been his own, or if the orb had helped. At the time, he hadn’t had any other plans and had jumped into a hole on purpose. Luckily, the sharpened stakes at the bottom had bent and rotted over time, and his boots had crushed one that he’d landed on. Then he’d covered the whole thing with dirt and sticks. The slight drizzle that had started soon after had made him huddle in the muddy hole, miserable, but he’d been glad the weather would help cover his tracks.
When he’d heard about Noah’s escape, Doc had frowned and said, “That wasn't the brightest idea. How did you know it would work?”
“I didn’t, but it was the only plan I had.” Noah shrugged.
Doc Broad had nodded. “Sometimes, the most desperate plans seem to attract the most luck or misfortune.” At the time, Noah could only agree with that and ask for more water.
Back in the present, the young man took his customary place leaning against the railing of the cabin porch. Since Doc wasn’t ready to tell him about his research with the orb yet, he decided to revisit a well-worn subject between the two. He pointed up and asked, “Where is Ursa Major? I mean, I know where it’s supposed to be, but it’s impossible to see the third star.” He squinted, his tongue between his teeth before pointing at a specific spot in the sky. “Right there. It’s a little off from its normal location.”
Doc pulled out a cigarette and offered it to Noah. The young man declined with a hand gesture, and the wiry older man lit his ‘cancer stick,’ as he affectionately called them. “You know, space is a lonely place. If you look at the stars, the sky seems bright. But if you pay attention to the space between the stars and realize how many light years there are of nothing out there, it can make you feel tiny, like you don’t matter.”
A moment of silence stretched between them as Noah absorbed the words and stared into the heavens. When he’d been younger, people had said he wasn’t a good listener, but Doc had a way of speaking that drew him in. The wiry man would probably be a great teacher.
Finally, Doc continued his train of thought. “By tracing the invisible paths between the stars, we can make some sense of the universe. Constellations, imaginary connections. To many, especially now, those connections are the things that matter. In our world after the Shift, after electricity and gunpowder and every form of advanced technology failed, we lost everything that kept us together. Right now, we all might feel like a single star alone in our own quiet galaxy. The first step of understanding the importance of communication is appreciating the invisible connections between us, what holds our universes together.”
Noah tried to ignore the philosophy in Doc’s reply, but some of it was sticking. He had gotten used to Doc’s musings but never really seemed to respond to them the way Doc wanted him to. Since the smoking man hadn’t answered his question about Ursa Major, Noah figured he might be missing something, had not asked the right question, or would receive a longer, but more thorough answer later. He was fairly used to it now. Doc was just like that. Noah pursed his lips, thinking about where the conversation might be heading, and asked, “What do you think caused the Shift?”
Even as the question left his mouth, he stiffened. Probably every surviving person on Earth had uttered those words at some point. After the first year, people seemed to care less, though. Survivors had stopped speculating. People had become more concerned with either holding onto what was theirs or taking resources from others. Surviving the Shift had become drastically more important than figuring out why it had happened.
Doc inhaled deeply and blew out a large cloud of smoke. “The Aelves,” he said with a tone of complete certainty.
Noah narrowed his eyes. He had heard of the elves constantly after the Shift, or at least within the last year. Even Redford and the Red Chain threw the word around like the boogie-man or the chupacabra.
It wasn’t like Noah didn’t understand the fear. He’d seen first-hand what the bastards were capable of. From a distance, he’d witnessed the smoking ruins of a small town, small fires still burning. Headless bodies had been stacked like cordwood.
Noah shuddered. “I’ve never actually seen them. Do you know about the elves? I still don’t understand why fantasy people are supposedly attacking us.”
Doc matched his gaze with a grave look. “Not e-l-v-e-s, A-e-l-v-e-s. That’s what we’re calling them at least; it might even be what they call themselves. After the Shift, there was a lack of communication, well, everywhere. Ironically enough, the most connected people now are the raider factions because they're the most mobile. It all kind of reminds me of how the post office used to deliver messages by horse. I guess one advantage of treating anyone that comes by my cabin is a decent access to word of mouth. Usually, news is hard to come by.
“As you know, since the madness after the first month or two of the Shift, everybody had been focused on protecting themselves and building new communities. At first, this made sense, but it also kind of presents better targets, like for the raider factions.”
Noah made a face. “What does this have to do with the Aelves? From what I’ve been able to pick up, they weren’t even really around during the Shift.” This conversation didn't seem like one of Doc’s philosophical musings. He wasn’t sure what Doc would say. Noah still remembered the fear in Redford’s voice when Doc had mentioned the Aelves months earlier.
Doc Broad shook his head. “I’ve actually heard reports of their activity from the beginning. The average person seemed to be aware of them about six months after the Shift, but I believe they were here since day one. The evidence is damning. I mean, what better way to prey on humans than wiping out our technology and letting us stew in madness for a couple years? We’ve done a pretty good job of making ourselves weak enough to attack.” Doc tapped some ash and continued, “I’m fairly sure this is an invasion, and the main force of the Aelves are coming eventually.”
“But what are they?” demanded Noah. He was surprised by the heat in his own voice, but the subject made the hair on the back of his neck rise. Things had gotten bad, really bad after the Shift, but the destroyed village had haunted him for some time now. People could be truly terrible to each other, but human violence was rarely that…organized.
The wiry man said, “From what I’ve gathered, they look mostly like us, but different in a way that is striking. They definitely aren’t like pop culture elves. I have a number of what I believe to be legit reports that they’ve raided human fortresses. Only a few Aelves come at a time, but that’s all that are needed—their power is overwhelming. Survivors are always absolutely terrified. Aelves are worse than raiders who just go after resources, even worse than slavers. See, they don't kill everyone. Instead, they eliminate and dismember a number of humans and kidnap the rest, then disappear to God knows where.” Doc paused for a couple seconds and amended, “Well, I guess that makes them exactly like raiders and slavers except for the rumors that they eat their captives. Anyway, the craziest thing I’ve heard about them is that they use magic.”
For what seemed like the first time in two years, Noah let out a belly laugh. “That
doesn’t make any sense,” he said. But even as he spoke, he realized it actually did. He was literally holding proof of some form of magic in his hand. The orb had clearly cracked and was probably damaged, but it had given him strange abilities and new insights.
As difficult as it was for Noah to accept, the more he thought about it, the more the possibility sunk in. The whole world had gone upside down after the Shift. Electricity, gunpowder, engines, none of it worked anymore. Even people trying to harness solar or nuclear power had no luck. And now there were rumors of creatures kidnapping and eating people? All of it had to be connected. It was the only thing that made sense. Magic.
When Noah nodded, Doc Broad gave him an approving look. “I felt the same way at first,” he said. “Although I had to work out all this stuff on my own. It just didn’t make sense. Have you ever wondered why a flashlight won’t work, but lightning still happens during storms and seems unaffected?” Doc took another puff on his cigarette and shook his head.
The orb pulsed heavily without warning in Noah's hand, something it never done before unless he hummed the mysterious tune in his head. Now it seemed to be reacting to Doc Broad’s words. Any doubts Noah might have had before were immediately banished. He decided to keep the orb’s reaction to himself. Instead, Noah asked, “What kind of magic do they have?”
“Elemental—foundation of creation. Fire. Ice. Stuff that you'd see in the old RPG games and fantasy movies. I’ve heard that not all the Aelves use it, but this kind of magic is taking out entire towns and fortresses. Magical WMDs, or at least artillery—it’s heavy stuff. So anyway, they're making a b-line from the West Coast to the East Coast, but it’s confusing. Why aren't they launching a full-scale war? If the Aelves are the ones responsible for taking out humanity's technology with the Shift, then why aren’t they attacking the entire Earth at the same time? If they have this magic, then they could wipe us all out at once. I think we are seeing a scout force, and the main force is still coming. Maybe they are going to snuff us, but it’ll just take time.”
First Song Page 5
