Their second gift was five handheld two-way radios. “Traveling with hostile forces about, you may need to communicate,” Jodie told Luke.
They thanked the Roans for their gifts, and the Roans in turn thanked them for the warning about the station. They planned to camp for a day and then take a team down to fix it. They promised to have all their stations repaired and in good working order before the mission came back that way.
While the trucks charged, Lorn and Luke consulted. They set a new semi-permanent driving roster, abandoning the rotation. Amy and Lexa were in the lead truck, as the two best drivers. Lorn and Spider drove second to guard the front, and Luke and Patrick drove at the back as rearguard.
They set out just after moonrise. The path turned south, and true to Lexa’s word, it was straight and level. In fact, they soon turned down a long ramp onto an ancient highway, still in fair repair.
Amy found it spooky to drive on this road at night, thinking about the hundreds of cars that once went up and down it at all hours of the day and night. At intervals, large lonely signs reared up in the dim moonlight. Behind and to the sides, the broken remains of buildings stared emptily at them.
“When I was a kid I went up to one of those buildings with my older brother,” Owl said sleepily. “Out back was this huge truck, must have been forty feet long.”
“A semi,” Amy said. “My dad drove one for a time.”
“My brother told me they had once hauled things all over the country in those trucks, but I wouldn’t believe him. I couldn’t imagine that anything that big could move.” Owl laughed. “I still find it hard to believe, but riding in this truck has made me a believer.”
“You’ve never ridden in anything this big before?” Amy knew it was a stupid question as soon as she said it. She hadn’t ridden in anything this big before either.
The truth was that she was a little rattled. Owl couldn’t drive, so he wasn’t on the rotation at all. When he offered to ride up front with them, she had assumed that Lexa’s charm was at work. Lexa was already curled up asleep on his far shoulder, and Owl was showing more attention to Amy than she was either used to or comfortable with.
Amy fished the radio out of her lap. “Bad patch up ahead, potholes the size of a horse.” Spider’s voice crackled an acknowledgment followed by several others. The radios were already paying off in a surprising way. Early warning from the lead truck was allowing them to travel faster and safer than they could ever have without them.
Owl and Amy continued to converse until the moon stood high in the sky. There was a longer than usual pause and then a slight snore from the man. He barely moved when Lexa and Amy changed places at the midnight break.
Amy woke in the morning to find herself curled against his warm muscular side, his arm casually over her shoulder. She straightened stiffly.
“She awakens,” he commented casually to Lexa. They had obviously been awake and talking for some time.
“What did I miss?” she asked, still groggy.
“Nothing but dark skies and empty horizons,” Owl said.
“The next stop is just a few minutes away,” Lexa added.
Looking into the dawn, Amy spotted the wind generator turning lazily in the morning breeze. They had a quick hot breakfast, a shower, and most importantly, an hour away from the trucks. Then back in for another long haul.
Amy drove the first morning stretch, with Lexa’s guidance. They turned southwest on another old highway. This one was not in nearly as good of shape. A low river, more of a stream really, ran parallel to the road. Over the years, its course had shifted, and it had eroded most of the shoulder and at times threatened to engulf the road entirely.
“Oh crap,” Lexa said. Amy followed Lexa’s pointed finger. At the top of the next hill sat a Jeep. They could see the outline of several men watching them. There was no mistaking the crossbows.
“Everyone see that?” Lorn voice crackled through the radio. There was a chorus of “ayes.”
A voice boomed through an old bullhorn. “Pull to the side of the road,” the voice commanded.
“No way. We know what they’ll do,” Owl said.
Lorn’s voice echoed the sentiment through the radio, “We are not stopping.”
“Let me and Luke through,” Patrick’s voice said. “We will buy the rest of you some time.”
“The tires!” Amy screamed as it hit her. She grabbed the radio from Lexa’s mystified hand. “Don’t,” she said. “Just follow me.”
The men saw them rolling by faster. The silhouettes were gone, and the Jeep was speeding down toward them. They were on an intercept course and going twice as fast as the trucks could manage.
“They are going to block us off,” Lexa said nervously.
No doubt everyone else is thinking it as well
, Amy thought scanning the banks frantically. She spied a low stretch and swerved, hoping the others would follow. The truck splashed heavily into the shallow river.
I just hope it is a shallow as it looks,
she thought.
If
the water comes up to the engine, we’re through.
To her relief, moments later she was splashing up on the other side. The heavy electric truck with its massive torque ground noisily through the mud.
“They’re almost here,” Lexa said as they cleared the bank.
The smaller and faster Jeep had made good use of the momentary slowing of the trucks as they plowed through the water. It had reached the bank about thirty feet downstream and easily plowed across the river. Then it hit the trap that Amy had hoped for. Being lighter, the Jeep’s old tires spun in the mud, gaining no traction.
The final caravan truck cleared the river. There were shouts of glee coming through the radio as Amy pulled up the far bank. A loud retort broke the celebration momentarily. Amy gasped as she noticed a small crack in the passenger-side window, only inches from Owl’s face.
In complete defiance of common sense, he peered out the window. Seeing her look of concern, he calmly said, “We’re out of range now. They’ll not waste another shot.
“Any damage?” Patrick was asking over the radio. Amy could guess who was really asking.
“Window’s cracked, but no injuries,” Lexa answered. Spider reported the same. Apparently it had been a wild shot, taken at the edge of range.
A mile or so farther on, they took a short stop. After that harrowing close call, they needed a minute to regroup and to plot a new course.
It was decided that they would continue on this side for most of the day. They did not know how long the Jeep would be stuck for, where the other truck was, or if the scavengers had any sort of means of communication. There could all too easily be another trap waiting for them.
By late afternoon, they would have no choice but to cross the river again. They couldn’t run the risk of missing the next station.
The day passed with agonizing slowness. They saw nothing but jumped at every shadow. Weighing in the back of everyone’s mind was the thought that the scavengers might reach the station ahead of them. Then what would they do?
As they disembarked at the next fueling station, Amy noted the signs of stress and fatigue in every face. They set a guard and stayed close to the trucks while they charged.
“We need at least one more night run before we can assume we are safely ahead of them,” Lorn said. “Is that feasible?”
“Should be,” Lexa answered. “The route from here on is pretty clear, mostly old highways.”
“Now that we have passed them, they will probably push on through the night as well,” Luke pointed out.
“They don’t know who we are or where we are going,” Patrick offered.
“Or that we know what they are up to,” Mark agreed.
“In a situation like this, we can’t afford to assume,” Luke countered. “They may have guessed.”
“They will at least have guessed that we are headed in the right direction to run into the Stewards. They will not want any warning of their presence,” Lorn said then sighed. “I agree . . . we assume the worst.”
Lexa sighed too. “Three days and nights, and we are there, if we can maintain the pace that is.”
“Tonight then, at least. We drive through the night, and we decide after,” Lorn said. Everyone nodded. As tired as they all were, nobody wanted to stay there longer than necessary.
The next four days were a blur. In the end, they compromised. They had driven all night the first night and at least half the night for the next three. That put them in Steward territory by noon the fourth day.
They knew the instant they reached it. They passed over a hill and found a high metal fence that stretched from one horizon to the other.
Chapter 13
THE STEWARDS
“Everything beyond that fence is uninhabitable,” Owl said, “due to radiation and toxins. It’s not deadly all at once; you can cross the fence, but you do so at your own risk.”
They left the woods behind and entered a vast land of rolling hills and tall grasses. Except for the fence, there was no indication that the land beyond was dangerous.
Perched on a low hill on the distant horizon was an immense building of concrete and brick. “Almost there,” Lexa breathed in relief.
The buildings were contained in their own fence. There was a gatehouse on the north side. They drove straight for it. A well-muscled black man wearing denim overalls and a wide-brimmed straw hat greeted them at the gate. Gray hair at his temples seemed to accent his worried look. He was tall, well over six feet, and had the easy grace of someone accustomed to hard labor.
Amy tried not to stare. She had never seen a black person before.
“Something is wrong, very wrong,” Lexa said.
“Why?” Amy asked.
“Look at his belt.”
Amy noticed for the first time the heavy black pistol. The man swung himself onto the running board and peered through Lexa’s open window.
“Lexa Greenbowe and company,” he said, trying to sound casual. “And I see you’ve picked up an aborigine.”
Owl smiled. “Joseph,” he said. And to Amy, “Joseph thinks we are all nuts for living in the woods.”
“We got trouble,” Lexa said.
“So do we,” Joseph answered. “And I am guessing it’s the same trouble. Let’s get inside and we’ll discuss it.
He waved them through. In the rearview mirror, Amy saw a woman close the gate behind the last truck. She could not tell if the woman was armed or not.
They pulled into a huge garage on one side of the building. Joseph indicated where to park and jumped off the running board.
Amy couldn’t help but feel embarrassed for the expedition, yet again. She had at least made an effort not to stare. None of the men had ever seen a black person before either. They had been raised to believe them lesser. That didn’t mean they had to stare at this guy like he was a bug or something.
If Joseph noticed the extra attention, he made no sign. He saw Lorn and went straight to him. “Lorn,” he cried happily.
“It has been a long time,” Lorn answered.
“Years,” Joseph agreed. He patted Lorn’s belly, “What happened to the scrawny little kid the Greenbowes adopted?”
“They have fed me well, that’s all.”
“As will we, I promise,” Joseph replied. “And we will provide hospitality as tradition demands. But today, events dictate news first.”
“I agree,” Lorn said, introducing the others.
They were led to a small conference room. Amy marveled as she went. She didn’t know exactly what she expected of the Stewards, but it wasn’t this.
No, wait. I do know what I’d expected.
The outside of the building had more or less confirmed it. The Stewards were a monastic order. All the books she had read showed solemn monks in drab robes wandering around dim stone corridors. Instead, the whole inside of the building overflowed with life. Giant pools were overgrown with reeds. Vast glass tanks revealed fish and other underwater life. It was like the pictures she had seen of the botanical center where her grandmother had been married.
The people here defied the usual idea of a monk as well. Many wore loose, flowing robes but no uniforms seemed to be in effect. The closest thing was that those going out of doors seemed to favor denim overalls and wide brimmed hats, like Joseph wore. The clothes were often of bright colors that did not put the word “monk” into mind.
All around was a bustle of quiet activity. Few showed it outwardly, but tension hung in the air. Amy thought she spied one woman crying as she tended to the plants in a tank.
The conference room was drab only in comparison to the rest of the place. An aquarium some twenty feet long took up most of one wall. Plants in stands grew in each corner.
The center of the room was made up of a long wooden table filled with refreshments: water, bread, and raw vegetables. Tired and hungry, they all fell to eating while Joseph, Lorn, and Luke talked.
“We tried to send a warning over the satellite,” Joseph told them after they had explained about the scavengers, “but you had left.”
“Then you already knew?” Lorn said.
Joseph nodded. “We did not know their location or that you would meet them, but we knew they were in the area. Another monastery in our order sent us warning. They did not want us to get caught unawares. They had already been accosted by these people.”
“What nonsense is this anyway?” Lorn scoffed. “Everyone knows that the Stewards don’t gather material wealth. Why would anyone try to rob you?”
“You do have a stash of precious metals though, don’t you?” Luke said.
“Yes,” Joseph admitted. “We do.”
“What?” Lorn almost jumped to his feet. “Since when? You are the Stewards. Have you forsaken your vows to protect humanity?”
“That’s why you have the metals, isn’t it?” Luke said.
“Exactly,” Joseph said. “We have not forsaken our vows.”
“I am sorry,” Lorn said. “I spoke rashly. Of course you would not. I don’t understand though. It seems so incomprehensible.”
“Is it?” Joseph asked. “There was much wealth in the cities of old. Chicago was a wealthy city once.”