The North (#wattys2016)

Chapter 20

Sid told me there was enough fuel in the front-end loader to top up the carriers as well as our Jerry cans. It would be dark soon and I wanted to put as much distance as possible between us and Dinsmore. After a quick consultation with Cruze, we decided we’d keep going for another hour or so. Our destination was a thick stand of trees about 20 km to the northwest. We’d be hatches down for a second night - not entirely desirable, given that every one of us was dead dog tired of being crammed inside the APC’s, but necessary, given the threat of armed patrols.

So we pushed on, bouncing across farmers’ fields and traversing at least half a dozen grid roads. The temperature had plummeted - small flecks of snow began falling, landing on the hull and then melting from the heat of the engine. We’d covered nearly five hundred kilometers since we broke out of the city. I wanted to take comfort in our success, but what about Eden? My gut, which was rumbling almost as loudly as our engines, told me that for a huge group of survivors to band together so quickly - well, it just didn’t make a whole hell of a lot of sense. Every instinct a survivor possesses is to protect what they’ve got. Why would farm families create a makeshift society when so many would slit your throat for a freaking can of beans? The Eden tribe possessed military hardware, they’d laid claim to land stretching for miles in every direction, they’d cobbled together roving security patrols. There had to be a central figure that was pulling the strings. But no leader, however skilled in the art of diplomacy or how inspiring he or she might be, could rebuild so quickly after the last one disintegrated unless they had expert help that could only come from one source: the army.

I needed more information from Dawn-Marie.

We pulled into a hide deep inside a thick stand of poplars that stretched for about three clicks across a ridge overlooking dry, frost covered farmer’s fields. When I crawled into Ark Two, it was shortly past nine o’clock. Melanie Dixon was fast asleep against the rear door and Kenny Howard was perched up in the turret, keeping a watch on things with the infra-red.

“Everyone been fed?” I asked, as Cruze made me a cup of hot chocolate from a small pot on her mountain stove.

She handed me the steaming tin mug and I blew on it before taking a sip. “Yeah, everyone’s had some chow – even our honored guest.”

I glanced over at Dawn-Marie, still fastened by one arm to the hull tie-down. She looked like she’d been crying, and I wondered if the tears were genuine or if she was trying to play Cruze’s team. She stared blankly at the rear doors through puffy red eyes as I gestured for her to take a sip of my hot chocolate. She shook her head and sniffled.

“You’re smart, Dawn-Marie,” I said quietly. “By now you must realize we didn’t want to get into a fight with your people.”

“That explains why you bombed the shit out of us then, doesn’t it?” she shot back.

She was still as defiant as ever. I nodded to show that I meant her no harm, so I kept my tone as non-threatening as before. “What happened to your parents? Your brothers and sisters?”

“Dead – what are you, stupid or something? Nearly everyone died in the days after the outbreak.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I replied.

“No you’re not!” she snapped. “Empty words at the end of the world – that’s all you’re good for.”

I took a deep, patient breath and said, “My mother took her own life. We were hiding out in Mewata Armory. We were hunkered down there for six months. She couldn’t take it. I guess lots of people made the same choice as she did.”

Cruze nodded slowly. “My family died on the second day. They were torn apart in front of me.”

The girl shifted her gaze toward Cruze. Her features softened a little. “Everyone has a story of loss, don’t they? Christ, what kind of world is this now? People are animals – sometimes they’re just as bad as the stiffs. What are you going to do with me?”