Forager (9781771275606)

Young Adult Dystopian by Ron
Scheer

It’s been thirty years since the
economy collapsed, and all Dillon has ever known is a world without
electricity or medicine, living in a community constantly under the
threat of starvation as they struggle to feed the rest of the
country.

Orphaned and alone, unsure of his
future, Dillon serves as a lookout, watching for the bands of
Scavengers that prey on towns like his—while also watching for the
mayor’s twin sons, who are bent on terrorizing him.

When a Forager rides into town, he
opens Dillon’s eyes to the possibility of a different life. And
when a Scavenger attack leaves the Forager injured, he sends Dillon
out on a mission that may mean the difference between life and
death for the mayor’s missing daughter. Dillon is about to find
more than a way to help his community—he’s about to find
himself.

The Forager

by Ron Scheer

Published by MuseItUp Publishing at
Smashwords

ISBN: 978-1-77127-560-6

Copyright 2014 Ron Scheer

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To Brandy, Sarah, and
Brandon.

Family—Always.

This book may have my name
on the cover, but there are a lot of other people who had a hand in
making this book a reality, and a dream come true for
me.

I must first thank my
parents for instilling in me a love of the written word. I still
remember the night when I was five years old, and those strange
characters suddenly started to make sense. Thanks, Mom and
Dad.

Every instructor, teacher,
and librarian that had the patience to “let me finish this page”
also deserves huge kudos. You all know who you are, but I would
especially like to thank Nancy Coffelt for her early help and
reviews. My early readers, Becky Teet and Cindy Shepard, also need
to be thanked. The editors, Katie Carroll and Nancy Canu, through
much patience, explained why they were right, and I was wrong. I
need to give Nancy Canu an additional thank you for her equestrian
expertise that kept me from repeatedly injuring Fred. The cover
artist, Carolina Bensler, did a remarkable job, as did everyone
else at MuseItUp. Thanks Lea.

In closing, I have to thank
the most important people of all, my family. To Brandy, my wife,
your encouragement and support never wavered, not once. Brandon and
Sarah get a very special thank you. Simply for being who you are,
you let your dad live a dream.

Bow in hand, I climbed the staircase. Each step launched
little puffs of plaster dust into the air. The smell of mold filled
the stairwell, and up along the walls the old lath peeked through
the gaps left by fallen plaster. How much longer would we be able
to use this ramshackle house at the edge of town?

I yelled up the stairs, “It’s Dillon! I’m coming up to relieve
you!”

Craig Black shouted back down, “It’s about time. You’re
late!”

At the top, I entered the empty bedroom that was my post.
Sunlight shone brightly through the broken window and a soft breeze
carried the smell of corn dust to my nose. Good—the combine
harvester was still working. The machine could harvest as much in
one hour as twenty people could in a day,
if
we could keep it running.

Pulling an arrow from the quiver on my back and nocking it on
the bowstring, I looked out the window. Below me, a rusty swing set
sat on a patch of yellow grass. Beyond, a strip of bare earth
separated the backyard from the fields.

“
What kept you?” Craig asked.

“
I stopped to talk to Chane.” I smiled. Chane was a year
younger than me. She was tall, with long blonde hair, brown eyes,
tanned skin. In other words, she was a knockout.

“
You’re going to get in trouble messing with the mayor’s
daughter.” His gaze shifted from the window to me with a look that
clearly said I didn’t measure up.

“
Yeah, but she can’t help it. I’m just too good-looking.” Craig
was taller than me, but I was catching up in the build department.
Over the last couple of years I’d developed some nice solid biceps
and my stomach was just as flat as his. The one thing he had over
me, though, was his blue eyes. Mine were green, with little flecks
of brown. Looking in a mirror, it always seemed like there were
flecks of manure floating in my eyes.

“
He let out a deep chuckle. “Just what does she see in you? No,
don’t answer that. I just hope I’m there when the mayor catches
you.”

Let Craig think what he liked, but the truth was the mayor
didn’t have anything to worry about. I loved watching words form on
Chane’s smooth, perfect lips, but so far, watching her lips was as
close as I gotten to them.

My lack of…progress with Chane was depressing, so the subject
was changed. “Anything happening out there?”

“
No,” Craig said, “but keep your eyes open. Today, tomorrow,
next week, those Scavengers will show up. They always do this time
of year.”

Craig and I, and several others, watched the old highway
for the bandits we called Scavengers. This bedroom window was one
of several different posts.
The need was
obvious
, but
could any job be more boring? The thought of staring out the window
all day without even a chair for comfort made me cringe,
but there were no more options
. Like a good citizen, I took up
my post. I’d sunk to this tedious position because I’d been useless
at all my other assigned jobs. It wasn’t like I didn’t try,
but somehow, they always managed to get screwed
up.

Looking down the long black road, I sighed. It split the
fields of corn and wheat like a seam in a quilt. The land rose
gently, and for almost three miles a clear view of the old highway
and the surrounding fields ready for harvest stretched out in front
of me. The one exception was a small tree line that ended about
twenty feet from the house. As long as I paid attention, there was
no way a band of Scavengers could catch our town unaware, at least
not from my post facing south.

Before he left, Craig pulled a whistle and a pair of
binoculars from around his neck and handed them to me. “Seriously,
Dillon, get your thoughts off Chane’s chest and watch that road.
Those stinkin’ Scavengers could show up at any time.”

Despite his warning, twenty minutes later, I found myself
thinking about Chane. She looked gorgeous this morning. High
cheekbones accenting her cute upturned nose. Long, blonde hair
flowing over her shoulders and catching the morning sunlight,
making it shine. She wore light-blue denim cutoffs and a brown
swimsuit top that definitely got my attention.

I shook myself out of the daydream and checked the distance
with the binoculars.
As much as fantasizing
about Chane captivated me,
I needed to focus. I studied the road.
Fortunately, everything was clear—for now.

The morning passed slowly. From time to time, I stared out at
the empty road. The occasional gust of wind blew a few leaves
across its black surface, but, like every other day, the only thing
that changed was the position of the sun. Now it hung almost
directly overhead, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before someone
brought me lunch.

A movement at the end of the tree line grabbed my attention. I
snatched up the binoculars. At first, I thought my eyes were
playing tricks on me, or one of the lenses had reflected a glint of
light from the midday sun. Lowering the field glasses, I rubbed my
eyes, put the whistle to my lips, and looked again.

Was this the beginning of a Scavenger attack? A strange,
excited fear gripped me. My pulse raced. My breath came short and
fast. After all the hours of boring watching, there might be action
at last!

Was it a scout doing reconnaissance? Or was it the lead
Scavenger, with more close behind? Either way, I pictured myself as
a hero, everyone clapping and cheering. Chane running toward me,
arms spread wide with a big victory kiss on her lips, knowing my
quick actions foiled the attack.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears. I almost blew the whistle,
but in a rare moment of clarity I realized I needed to be sure. A
false alarm was not going to get me that kiss.

Hand trembling, I lifted the field glasses looking down
through the long rows of corn. Not seeing anything, I almost
chalked it up to a trick of the light and a bad case of boredom
when a second flicker caught my eye.

This time I held the binoculars steady, and watched
something brown moving across the rows. My muscles tensed. A
thousand thoughts raced through my mind. Before thinking, I dropped
the binoculars and whistle, grabbed the bow, and drew the length of
the arrow back to my ear. A moment later, antlers poked up through
the dry stalks of corn.
Letting the
bowstring, and my body relax, I shook my head at those foolish
dreams of heroism.

“
Hey, Orphan Boy. Shooting at shadows, or were you just
daydreaming about shooting a Scavenger?”

The excitement of the moment turned into a hard lump of dread.
I knew that sneering voice. I hated it. Without turning, I said,
“No, Josh. I…I saw movement…out in the cornfield. It…it was just a
deer.” My voice wavered. I hated the helplessness that smothered me
when he was around.

He was my age, but a full foot taller, crew-cut dark hair and
brown eyes with a build that I would kill for. Not only was he what
girls would call handsome, he looked like he could walk right
through a brick wall. The worst part was he knew it. No, the worst
part was that he and his twin brother, Jason, were the mayor’s
sons. Chane’s brothers.

“
Good thing you pulled the arrow down. I would hate to see the
Bulls give you any more jolts.” I knew he didn’t mean it. If it
were up to him I’d get a jolt a day just for being me.

Jolts were punishments, and the Bulls were the governor’s
enforcers, carrying out all punishments regardless of what law was
broken.

I’ve no idea where they
found that old stun baton, but I knew it hurt.
Missing a shift of work or
spilling fuel was one jolt, unauthorized possession of food was
two, fighting three, and so on. Hunting earned the maximum eight.
With eight, a person could usually be back to work the next day, if
a little stiff and jerky.

My jolts came two weeks ago. Josh, or maybe it was Jason,
threw an apple into my RV. It was a stupid prank, but for whatever
reason, they got a huge thrill out of it. Me, I got two jolts for
having food in my RV. And I was lucky. Several people had been
jolted before me, so the charge in the batteries was weak. The
thought of being hit with a fresh set made my legs wobble. Not that
we had any. All our batteries were weak from constant charging. In
fact, part of the punishment was two hours on a pedal-generator for
each jolt.

I stared out the window refusing to look at Josh, silently
wishing him away. I clamped my mouth shut, but he wasn’t leaving
until satisfied he’d gotten the best of me. I might as well get
this over with. “What do you want, Josh?” The fewer words I shared
with this animal the better.

“
Wow, you sound like you don’t want me here, and I brought your
lunch and everything.”

Turning to face him, the evil grin on his face soured my
stomach. His hands were empty. No food. I knew where my lunch was,
but he wouldn’t leave without the satisfaction of telling
me.

“
Where’s my lunch?” My voice shook.

“
I ate it. It was good too. Roast beef sandwich with lots of
fresh churned butter, potato salad, and Millie’s special
applesauce.”