Forager (9781771275606) (19 page)

I heard a round whistle past my ear. I’m almost positive
the bullet zoomed by before I heard the
bang
.

I tried to turn in the saddle and aim the rifle at the thicket
hiding the man. The motion almost caused me to fall out of the
saddle. Deciding it might be a better idea to stay as low as
possible in the saddle, I held on for my life.

The Scavenger’s rifle let go with another round. I ducked even
lower.

I worked Sawyer’s gun back into the scabbard as Fred
galloped up a hill.
If we can get over the top we’ll be safe.

I was wrong. Again.

Five more men, all armed, stepped over the crest. I yanked the
reins hard to the right. Fred turned and galloped directly toward a
barbwire fence. Sawyer hadn’t given me any instruction on jumping.
I hoped I was a fast learner.

Fred leapt and almost left me behind. Before I lost my seat
completely, her hooves touched down and tore through the overgrown
field in front of us. My rump slammed back into the saddle, and the
horn jabbed me in the stomach as I rebounded forward.

Sawyer and I had galloped through town a couple of days ago,
but whether it was because she was now only carrying one rider or
because she was as scared as I was, her speed was amazing. Tears
streamed from my eyes every time I tried to look ahead to see what
was coming.

I resisted my instinct to rein in. Riding this fast was
terrifying but necessary. I wasn’t sure which I was more scared of,
the men shooting at us or Fred’s whirlwind pace. Another bullet
buzzing past decided me.

I hoped Fred wouldn’t misstep. One hoof planted wrong, and our
race for safety would be over. Every second was an hour, but every
second put us further and further away. I tried to think of
something to do to help us escape, but my mind was filled with
rifle reports and the thudding hooves.

I risked a look back. I wished I hadn’t. All six of the men
pointed their rifles right at us. I even saw smoke come out of the
barrel of one of the guns a split second before the dirt kicked up
where Fred’s hoof had landed just a step before. We were moving
fast, but bullets traveled faster. Our only hope was to keep going.
I considered taking the reins and moving Fred in a zigzag as she
ran, but decided against it. It would only slow us down.

Fred ran on and I tried not to throw up.

Risking a second look back, I was amazed at how far we’d come.
Little by little, the men shrank into the distance. I’d been taught
in school that a rifle bullet could travel as much as mile, but it
was next to impossible to be accurate at that range. We were far
enough away from the men that I began to relax. Fred galloped on
until we neared the barbwire fence bordering the road of the next
mile.

Fred’s front legs lifted, and for a split-second I enjoyed our
shared weightlessness as we arced over the fence onto the road.
Naturally, that’s when it all went wrong. My feet lost the
stirrups, and as Fred’s front feet landed, my butt lifted out of
the saddle—leaving my head to follow.

It could have been worse. That hard gravel road could have
been asphalt. I could have broken something, or multiple
somethings. Fred could have left me there with my scrapes and
bruises.

Picking myself up, I brushed gravel out of my abraded skin
and clothes. Fred waited for me on the far side of the road. I
looked back across the field, but didn’t see the bandits. Fred
snorted.
What’d you do that for?
I imagined her saying.

I refrained from retorting. She had just saved my
life.

Before I remounted, I checked to make sure she wasn’t hurt,
and that the alternator survived our wild ride.

We were half a mile down the road before I collected myself
enough to wonder why the Scavengers had tried to stop me. Sawyer
had told me they rarely bothered Foragers. Maybe they were
desperate. Maybe I’d been traveling the wrong road at the wrong
time. Whatever the reason, having bullets zinging by my head was
not an experience I wanted to repeat.

Was this the same band that kidnapped Chane? I hadn’t gotten a
good look at any of them, but short of seeing Rasp, the leader, I
doubted I’d recognize them anyway.

Mile after mile I rode on.
Whatever
was waiting for me back in town
, it couldn’t be worse than being shot at by
Scavengers. I sighed with relief when the outskirts came in sight.
I’d only been gone a couple of days, but the old buildings welcomed
me with their familiarity.

I wondered if I should avoid riding through the middle of
town. I wasn’t sure if I wanted anyone to see me. Word would
spread, and I’d have to deal with the mayor. At the same time, I
wanted people to know I was the one who found the
alternator.

Who should I see first? Sawyer, to tell him all about my trip?
Or Millie, to let her know I was safe. Or Frank Miller, to inform
him I’d found the alternator. What about Charlie? He was the one
that really needed the part.

Riding past the buildings in the late afternoon, I wasn’t
surprised to find the town quiet. Everyone would be on the south
end, hopefully ransoming Chane.

The thought of seeing Chane freed from the Scavengers spurred
me on to the rendezvous. Frank would be there and, unfortunately,
the mayor. I’d have to deal with him sooner or later. Would Sawyer
be with the defenders? I hoped his leg was better.

It took a little time to ride Fred to the other end of town. I
searched for Sawyer among the crowd, but with six hundred
weapon-laden people all massed together and facing away from me, it
was impossible to tell one person from the next. As I got closer, I
stared over their heads at the highway beyond.

The mayor sat on horseback with a Bull on either side. Josh
and Jason were also mounted, their horses behind those of the
Bulls. The five of them were in a heated discussion with Rasp and
her guards. Along the side of the road were the wagons that held
Chane’s ransom.

I didn’t see Chane. Was she riding behind Rasp like last time?
Or was she in the huge pack of Scavengers on the road a hundred
yards back?

I was too far away to hear the words, but I could tell things
weren’t going smoothly. The mayor pointed at Rasp and even from
behind the crowd, I saw his angry red neck.

A moment later, Josh’s arm came up.
Bang!
Muzzle fire flashed. Rasp swayed, and then
toppled out of her saddle.

The crowd erupted. Everyone began yelling at once. “What
happened? Is she dead?” Somebody screamed. It was a loud, piercing
shriek that echoed into silence. For five seconds nothing happened.
Then, like it was ordered, everyone flipped their safeties off and
trained their weapons directly at the Scavengers.

Rasp climbed to her knees. Her guards pointed their rifles
straight at the mayor’s group, who, with the exception of Josh,
were unarmed. Jason snatched the gun out of Josh’s hand and rode
forward, handing it to the mayor.

Rasp stood. Her lips moved, but the sound failed to reach me.
Whatever she said, her guards didn’t like it. One of them shook his
head no. She spoke again, this time pointing at the defenders. Both
men hesitantly lowered their rifles. The crowd, me included,
exhaled as one.

Some of the townsfolk followed the guards’ example and lowered
their own weapons, but most stayed poised to shoot. Rasp pointed an
angry finger at the mayor, said something, mounted, and rode off.
Her guards followed.

The mayor’s group rode back to the now murmuring
crowd.

“
Quiet down, everyone!” he yelled. His face, which I expected
to be inflamed with anger, was bleak and grim. “Thanks to my son
here,” he pointed an angry finger at Josh, “the Scavengers have
tripled Chane’s ransom. I—I don’t—I don’t know what to
do.”

The crowd started its jabbering again. I didn’t blame them. No
one had ever heard those words come out of the mayor’s
mouth.

I was wondering what I should do when Frank Miller stepped up
beside Fred. “Dillon, get down off that horse before the mayor or
anyone else sees you,” he hissed. “And take off that
hat.”

I did as he instructed.

“
Did you get it? Did you find the alternator?”

Nodding, I pointed to where the part was secured to the saddle
horn.

“
Good. Look, I’ve only got a minute before the mayor calls me,
probably less. Take that alternator out to Charlie Meyer. He’s
still in the east fields.”

“
Okay, but why do you care if the mayor sees me?” I
asked

“
He doesn’t know you left. I never told—”

“
Frank—? Frank, I need you here with me.” It was the
mayor.

“
I’ve got to go. Get out of here before someone sees you. Get
that alternator to Charlie!”

“
But—” It was too late. Frank slipped into the crowd, away from
me.

I led Fred around a corner and out of sight. When I was
confident we wouldn’t be seen, I remounted and headed out to the
east fields.

How could the mayor not know I’d been gone for two days? Did
no one know? It seemed that way. It was a disturbing thought. It
seemed nobody even missed me.

Just out of town, I passed a grain wagon pulled by a team of
horses. Scott Taylor, one of the field hands, drove the team. I
knew Scott from school, though he’d been a couple years ahead of
me. “Did the mayor get his daughter back?” he asked, like he
expected I would have been there with everyone else to watch the
negotiations, and not out of town searching for a
alternator.

Luckily, I’d seen enough to answer. “No, things are worse.” I
told him what I’d seen and about the triple ransom.

“
Can we make quota and still have enough food for
us?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, Scott. All we can do is try.
We’ve got to get Chane back. I can’t imagine what she’s going
through.”

“
This is going to sound cold, but is she worth it? Is anyone?
What I mean is, if we’re all going to starve to save one person,
who’ll end up starving right along with the rest of us, is it worth
it?”

My first thought was, of course she’s worth it, but Scott made
a sound point. “I don’t know what the right answer is.”

“
Don’t get me wrong. I like Chane as much as the next person. I
don’t want anything to happen to her, but sometimes we have to look
beyond the here and now. We’ve got to see past what’s right in
front of our eyes and look at the long term.”

I could only nod. In his way, he was right. I tapped Fred’s
sides lightly and Scott got his team moving in the opposite
direction. He’d given me a lot to think about.

When I arrived at the east fields where Charlie harvested,
clouds of corn dust filled the air. The heaviest dust settled right
back to the ground in the still air. The harvester was almost to
the end of the field, moving away from me. I stopped and waited for
Charlie to get to the end of the row and turn the harvester
around.

I was positive Frank had kept my leaving a secret. I’d have to
ask him how he’d managed it. On one side, I was glad I wouldn’t be
banished. On the other, no one would know that I found the
alternator.

Charlie waved at me from inside the combine’s cab. I motioned
for him to stop. When the big machine’s wheels came to a halt, he
opened the door and climbed down from the cab. “Dillon, what brings
ya out here? I thought you was sick.”

That explained it. I figured since Frank had worked so hard to
keep me out of trouble, I’d better play along.

“
Frank sent me out here with this.” I pointed to the alternator
still tied to the saddle horn.

Charlie’s face lit up with the biggest smile I’d ever seen. He
placed his thumbs through the shoulder straps of his overalls and
leaned forward on the balls of his feet. I thought he might do a
little jig right there. “Now where’d ya get this little beauty?”
Charlie asked. “Never mind, I don’t care where it came from, long
as it works.”

I was glad he didn’t want an answer. I didn’t want to
lie.

“
I see your still ridin’ that Forager’s horse. How’s he doin’?
That leg o’ his heal up alright?”

“
I don’t know. I haven’t seen him for a couple of
days.”

“
That’s right, you wouldn’t have seen him, being sick and all.
Looks like you’re better now. He got any tools in those horse
bags?”

I smiled and nodded.

“
Well, get ’em out! We got us a combine to fix!”

It almost made me sick for real to watch Charlie change out
the alternator. His scar-covered hands used the same wrench I’d use
to remove it, yet he made it look easy. Like the tools were oddly
shaped fingers that were as much a part of him as the ones he’d
been born with.

Not once did the wrench slip. He didn’t turn the bolts the
wrong way. No skinned knuckles. No dropped tools. In no time at
all, the old alternator was out.