“Cool it, Shawn,” Patrick said softly. “If Luke wants to go that way, we’ll go that way.”
Luke took a deep breath and then said. “Okay, now that that’s settled, let’s set camp for the night. We will go back down this hill a ways to be out of sight. MREs, I am afraid. We will not risk a fire. We can only assume we are in enemy territory from now on.”
Amy sank down beside Luke. He was sitting at the crest of the hill looking out over the gathering twilight. After ordering the setting of camp, he had assigned sentry duty, giving himself the first shift. Amy knew it was just an excuse to get away for a while.
“That was close,” he said after a while.
“You can take Shawn,” she said.
“Perhaps, but not Patrick,” he replied. “But that doesn’t matter. We can’t be fighting each other like this. This is what I feared. They don’t respect me as their leader.”
“Well, they should,” she said. “They were all there. They heard Jacob.”
“That doesn’t mean much out here. I just hope it doesn’t happen again.”
“It will. One of these days, you are going to have to put Shawn in his place, Patrick too most likely.”
“Damn!” Amy cussed. “This one’s a bust too.” They had reached Shelan late the next morning. It was now just after noon. After a quick reconnaissance, Luke had signaled everyone into town.
At first it appeared to be exactly what they hoped for, row after row of deserted houses. It was strange; the ranch only had one building like these, the community hall. At Liberty Farm, everyone had lived in the tall square buildings. Here, there must have been three or four dozen all lined up in a neat grid work.
“Where did they grow their food?” Kurt wondered aloud.
“They didn’t,” Luke told him. “Farmers grew it elsewhere, and these people bought it.”
“What a strange life,” Kurt commented.
The boys quickly lost interest. They lounged in the small park they discovered at the center of town, clearly feeling it was not their responsibility to help with the actual salvaging.
Not that they would have found much to do anyway
, Amy thought sourly as she walked down the street. Daniel, Luke and she had spent the last two hours going from one empty shell to another.
“What do you make of it?” Luke asked.
“They’re all the same,” Daniel said, “just empty.”
“This place has already been scavenged,” Amy replied, “and very thoroughly. I suppose we should have expected as much. After thirty years, we can’t be the only ones running out of things.”
Luke sighed. “I suppose not, but it does complicate the mission greatly. Now what are we going to do?”
“Head for that other town, I guess,” Daniel said.
“I fear we will find the same thing,” Amy said.
Kurt came running up.
“What is it?” Luke asked.
“They found something,” he said. “Mark and Patrick. They climbed one of those big metal round buildings at the edge of town, you remember?”
“The silos, yes.”
“They spotted smoke.”
Minutes later, they were there. With only a brief hesitation about the height, Amy followed Luke up the ladder. At the top, on a short gangplank, Patrick and Mark were taking turns looking through the scope on Patrick’s rifle.
“There’s your hostiles for you,” Patrick said.
Luke looked through his binoculars. “Can’t tell much from here,” he said. “Can’t see what’s making the smoke. It’s just one line, so it’s something small and contained, like a cook fire.” He paused and looked at Patrick. “Salvage is a bust. I say we check this out.”
“Right on.”
The rest were not hard to convince either. Soon everyone was packed up, and they were off. Before long they could all see the smoke. Distance on the prairie, however, can be deceptive. It took them almost three hours to reach the origin.
From the top of the rise, Luke peered through the binoculars. Then he crawled back down to where the rest were waiting.
“I was right,” he said. “It’s just over this hill, a farm or something, one house and one small barn. Odd-looking house. Can’t tell what it’s made of. It could be stone or something. Has an earthen roof like back home, though. Anyway, it’s one story and not very big. One family down there at most. No sign of any vehicles. Either they don’t have one or it’s gone somewhere.”
He paused to consider his words. “The whole set up is definitely civilian. I think we should go down.”
Shawn and Mark brandished their guns.
“Some of us should go down,” Luke corrected. “Peacefully.”
“To barter?” Kurt asked. “Will they have what we need?”
“I doubt it,” Amy said. “Not from that description.”
“No, I agree they won’t,” Luke said. “I saw somebody out front. I didn’t get a good look, but I think it was an old lady. She shouldn’t be any danger, and she may have information.”
“Barter is a waste of time,” Patrick said. “But interrogation . . .”
“We are just going to talk,” Luke growled. “Three of us will go down. Amy, you’re coming. They’ll be more likely to believe we come in peace if we have a woman with us.”
“You are taking a woman into a potentially hostile situation?” Patrick asked.
“It looks like a civilian outpost to me,” Luke answered coolly.
“And if it’s not?” Patrick demanded. “If this old lady of yours is the cook for a whole garrison of enemy soldiers?”
“That’s why I am also taking you.”
Patrick paused to consider. “Okay, but I want to be perfectly clear. This mission is vital. If I think for one minute that your wishy-washiness is threatening the mission, I will not hesitate to correct the situation. Understood?” Without waiting for a reply, he hefted his rifle. “Let’s go.”
PART TWO
The Quiet Earth
Chapter 4
ROGER'S STORY
Amy, Patrick, and Luke crested the hill together. Luke thought the most direct approach was the best. They did not want to startle the people living down there into any rash action.
Daniel took up a covering position at the top of the hill. Amy was glad it was him and not a trigger-happy Mark or Shawn. Luke and Patrick both had their rifles on their shoulders, apparent but not threatening, they claimed. Amy was sure she’d feel threatened, but there was no convincing them.
The house was low with heavy, earthen walls that were not quite square, but not quite rounded either, and a heavy sod roof. A chimney rose out of the roof, but the smoke issued from the other side of the building. Small windows were recessed deep into the walls. It had a cozy feel to it, like it grew out of the plains, Amy thought.
The smell of baking bread greeted them as they rounded the west side of the building. The south side of the building had larger windows. In front of the house was a round dome of earthen material about waist high. It had a small door, and the smoke and smell was emanating from it.
An elderly lady was tending the dome. She had long dark hair and nut brown skin. She wielded a long wooden paddle. She deftly reached the paddle in through a door and removed several steaming loaves of bread and set them on a low table sitting next to the dome. Then she fed several more thick lumps of dough in. She appeared to take no notice of them.
“Do you think the Chinese have taken over?” Patrick whispered.
“No, dummy,” Amy hissed back. “There were lots of Asian people already living in the US before the blast.”
“Excuse me,” Luke said, stepping forward.
The lady turned, showing no surprise, and approached, still carrying the long paddle. “My name is Ruth Akira. May I be of service?”
“My name is Luke Zachary,” Luke responded. “We come in peace.”
“That’s very nice,” she responded. A chicken clucked as it strolled by.
“Aren’t you afraid?” Patrick demanded. Amy groaned. Luke should have never brought him. She could tell by his look that Luke was thinking the same thing.
“Should I be?” Ruth asked.
“No, of course not,” Luke replied, shooting a warning look at Patrick. Patrick ignored it.
“You don’t need to be afraid.” Patrick said, “as long as you do as you are told.”
“And if I don’t?” Ruth asked.
“We have guns.”
“Patrick!” Luke hissed, “That’s enough!”
“I told you I would not stand for wishy-washiness,” Patrick hissed back.
“Not when it comes to interrogations, eh?” Ruth asked.
Patrick spun around and stared at her.
“Sound really travels out here,” she said. “Your friend wanted to come in peace. I too practice peace and harmony. Please put your guns down so we can talk.”
“You’ll learn some respect or— “Patrick slung the rifle off his shoulder.
It was over in a matter of seconds. One instant Ruth was standing stock-still and the next she was gone. Patrick hit the ground with a yowl of pain. The long wooden paddle swept in a graceful circle as Ruth spun back in front of him. It stopped inches from his throat, pinning him to the ground. Her eyes, however, were on Luke.
Luke slowly un-slung his rifle and laid it on the ground. “I regret my friend’s behavior very much, and I am sure he does too. I apologize.”
With a graceful flick of her wrist, Ruth knocked Patrick’s rifle several feet away and stepped back two paces so he could rise shakily to his feet. “We had bandits out here in the early days. We can defend ourselves at need. I trust you will not want a second demonstration?”
“Of course not,” Luke said. “Again, I apologize for my friend’s behavior.”
“He’s lucky,” Ruth told them. “My husband has a gun trained on you as well. Leave your guns where they are. Tell your friends to do the same and they can come down. We have little to ‘seize,’ but we will gladly share a meal or two, and perhaps some news.”
Ruth turned and walked away. She used her paddle to scoop up two loaves of bread and went off toward the house. Patrick eyed his gun, but Luke’s angry motion stopped him from trying for it. “Get the others,” Luke growled. “And so help me if I see one gun down here, I’ll shoot you myself.”
Patrick turned and walked off. Amy followed the woman into the house.
It was cool inside. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she looked around her. It was small, but neat and clean. Couches and shelves grew out of the walls and were made of the same stuff. There was a crude wooden table and a few chairs, but not many furnishings. Amy felt at home, as if the house itself calmed her nerves.
Ruth’s husband was there, looking out one of the windows. He had a single-shot .22 in his hands that looked as if it hadn’t been shot in years. He was a thin man with a pockmarked face. He was, to all appearances, white, or at least once had been. Years in the sun had turned him only a shade or two lighter than his wife. His hair was shoulder length and gray, pulled back into a ponytail. His hairline had receded most of the way back to expose a freckled and mole-covered scalp. His wrinkled hands were covered in liver spots, but were rock steady as he held the gun. Ruth introduced him as Roger.
Luke quickly explained who they were and what their mission was. The couple listened intently. Afterward, Roger seemed to come to a decision. He set the gun down and took Luke’s hand.
“Never heard of anyone living up in the mountains anymore, but Ruth and I have never turned down someone in need. We don’t have much, but we can spare a meal or two for you and your men. Maybe we can give you some good advice too. Sounds like you have been out of the loop for a long time.”
By this time, Patrick was back with the others. “Let’s take this out on the porch,” Ruth said. “This little cabin isn’t big enough for all of us.”
They gathered outside the cottage and began to talk. Luke, Roger, and Patrick sat on wooden chairs that Ruth brought out of the kitchen. Amy and Ruth sat together on a small bench that grew out of the house itself, and the rest laid their packs down and ranged out on the ground.
“Tell me more about this disease you ran into,” Roger said. “We’ll need to warn the neighbors if there is something new going around.”
“Well, we don’t know much about it actually,” Luke said. “We have no medic with us. It seemed like something from the food we ate, but we don’t know for sure.”
“What was it you ate?”
“Well, we shot a deer that day.”
“Did it appear ill in any way?” Roger asked.
“No. It seemed fine.”
“There is a wasting disease they get sometimes, but that usually shows. Besides it wouldn’t have affected you that quickly. I used to hunt a fair bit and never had any trouble with the deer around here. That’s been a few years ago, mind.”
“We’ve eaten deer since with no trouble,” Amy said.
“Well, what else was there?”
“Nothing odd,” Luke replied. “Some corn. That was all.”
“Corn?” Roger’s eyes went wide in surprise. “You ate corn?”
“Yeah, what wrong with that?” Patrick asked. “We eat corn all the time at home.”
Roger whistled. “Man, you have been out of touch a long time. You really eat corn?”
“Yeah.”
Ruth nodded. “They’ve been up there at least thirty years, I’d say. Imagine, clean seeds. No plague.”
“Plague? What plague?” Luke asked.
“The transgenetic plague,” Roger answered.
“Trans what?” Shawn asked.
“The transgenetic plague,” Roger repeated. “No one has eaten corn down here in over thirty years. It can be deadly, as you unfortunately found out.” He watched their puzzled looks. “You really don’t know anything about it? Okay, we need to start from the beginning, and that could easily take some time.
“You kids give me a few minutes here; it’s been a long time since I talked about this, and I need to get things right in my head.” He sat thinking for a long while.
“It was one year before the blast in Chicago . . .” he began.
“The blast,” Luke said. “That was when we broke contact completely. The ranch had already been self-sufficient for three years.”