Pickers 2: The Trip (4 page)

"We might just get a harvest, if we start planting now." The old man, Stefan, said. "Enough to keep us in bread through winter, and a proper planting next year." He studied the two tubs that had been brought down from the wagons. "If they're immune. Roots haven't been so badly affected, but we didn't plant so much of those. Wheat was what we traded in for essentials. It's the towns as bought it that'll be worst affected."

"There's not a lot we can do for them. Except make sure the local farms might have a decent crop next year." Tony said. He prised open one of the tubs, and Stefan pushed his fingers into the grains, stirring them and letting handfuls tumble from his palm. His expression suggested it was a sensual experience he had been missing intensely.

"We could always take more grain. To plant a bigger crop." Stefan said.

"True, but so could every farm between here and home.  It's better if we leave a couple of tubs every few kilometres. It buys us more information to help along the way as well."

Stefan looked ready to argue the point some more, but ended up simply shrugging. He waved over two younger men- members of the big extended family that lived and worked on the farm- and they carried the tubs away.

Somehow, Maxine had convinced the children of the farm to crank the pump on the well and then help her carry the buckets of water to the wagons. She ordered them around with a grin and they replied with angelic cheek. All the while, somehow, the job got done. Maxine was always better with country kids, they were more like the feral child she had been when Tony had met her.

Veronique and Remy were by wagon one, consulting with Stefan's wife and daughter in law on the state of the roads and towns near about. One of the computer screens was mounted on the outside of the wagon and they had unfolded a table to lay maps on. Tony and Stefan stood at either end of the table, studying the sheets as Remy added new notes to them.

The maps were sandwiched between plastic covers, so that changes could be added and scrubbed off easily. The French ones hadn't been used for several years, and the old notes hadn't completely erased.

Veronique added the amendments to their map database, and they showed up, more neatly, on the big screen. It only came out for moments such as this, to impress customers. Right now, it was showing a lot of red hatching blocking their planned route. Areas where raiders had been active.

Tony calculated alternative routes and worked out different ways around, and all of them doubled their journey time. He glanced at Remy, and just knew his father in law was doing the same. But he had an expression that suggested he was remembering bolt holes and safe houses that would offer a more direct path.

There was a high pitched commotion from the back of wagon two. Maxine was perched inside the open back door as the kids held out little weapons, clamouring for her to fix or replace them.

Holding up a scaled down bow, Maxine tested the draw. It was satisfactory, but then she held it against the girl who had handed it over, and It was obviously too small for her. There was a smaller child to the girl's right. Maxine measured the bow against him, and nodded. He took it with a yell, and the girl handed over the quiver. Maxine produced a larger bow, and a small selection of arrows, from inside the wagon.

Maxine handed out another two bows to the crowd of children, and then shooed them away. They ran off to test their new weapons. One of the fathers brought out a bunch of rabbits, skinned and ready for the pot. They went in the cold box, meals for the next few days, so they wouldn't need to stop and hunt all the time. She locked up the wagon, then climbed onto its roof to watch the children practice.

The kids were still taking turns shooting a plank when Remy hammered on the side of the wagon and called up, "Time to go, Max. We want to get as many miles done as we can manage before dark!"

"You think Stefan was planning to take the rest of the seeds?" Veronique sounded dubious.

"I reckon the thought crossed his mind. How long it dawdled there on the way, I couldn't say." Tony shrugged.

"Well, at least we didn't hang around long enough to find out." Remy pulled one of the rabbits from over the fire and poked it with a knife. It wasn't quite ready. "Specially since Maxine armed all of their kids."

"Bows and arrows. We've got guns." Maxine was already creating new bows from branches she had found whilst scavenging for fire wood. "Not sure I could use them on kids, though."

"I guess the pattern is set, then, for every farm we stop at between here and the Alps. We can't hang around after we've traded with them, just in case they want to cross us." Veronique said.

"And there I thought we'd only have to worry about raiders." Tony massaged his wife's shoulders. They had tensed up when he had mentioned his conversation with Stefan.

"I suppose...." Remy tested the rabbit again, this time he was satisfied it was cooked. He pushed it off its skewer onto a big plate for carving. "I suppose it's a risk. Harsh times, and all that." He set to carving all the meat from the carcass.

"I'll take first watch." Maxine offered.

There were more farms, and many more trades. By the time they reached the foothills of the Alps, the wagons were emptied of grain and filled with promissory notes and map notations.

There were convoys as well, struggling across the country to the promise of more food and better conditions. Some were heading for the coast, others for towns reputed to have had a bumper harvest. The one below them was making its way into the hills.

"All the way here, and not a single raider. Because they were all waiting to have a fight right in front of us now." Tony said. He slid down the ladder into wagon two and started breaking weapons out of the armoury.

The road they were on curved around the contours of the hill, down to a ford through a crystal clear river, and then on to the route up the valley. The steep walls closed in, until the road and river ran side by side and there was no run off on either side.

Fighting their way up the valley were three fuel burning trucks, loaded down with the lives of the people on board. Chasing them was an angry swarm of motorbikes and cars, nipping at them, trying to chip away at their defences until some brave raider could jump aboard a truck and fight it to a stop. As the road up the valley became steeper, the trucks would lose momentum and slow, drawing closer to the moment when they would be overwhelmed.

Tony hung the strap of Veronique’s favourite rifle over the back of the driver's seat. "We're going to need to fight our way through them, sooner or later." Remy's voice said over the radio. "Better we do it before they've blocked the pinch."

"I knew he'd say that." Tony kissed Veronique as wagon one pulled ahead of them, then set about transferring weapons to the roof. They went into the mounts built into the captain's chair, so that he had access to pistols for close range, a hunting rifle for distance and an assault rifle for when the fray got really crazy. There was a bag of Maxine's home made grenades as well- thermite, fragment and napalm. Tony felt his balls contract tight up into his body as he took the seat and fastened the belt about his waist. The seat was on suspension, which smoothed out some of the violent movements, but he would still need something that would hold him in place as the wagon bounced and sway over the rough terrain. Unlocking the seat, he rotated it through a full three sixty to check it was moving smoothly.

There was armour plate built into the back of the chair, and bolstering the sides as well. It would protect from light arms fire, providing he wasn't facing the shooter directly. Tony lifted his right foot and kicked the brake to lock the seat back in place. Up ahead, Maxine had been going through the same routine atop wagon one. She turned her seat to look back and give a thumbs up. With her other hand, she raised her hunting rifle. Time to thin the pack down below them, she was saying. They both turned their seats to look down into the valley.

Whilst the road was relatively smooth, Tony found he could almost hold a bead on targets. He found a pack of bikers close together, and got the little dot dancing around in the middle of them. As smoothly as he could, he drew his aim ahead of them, compensating for speed. He pulled the trigger. The rifle jumped, hammering against his shoulder. As the echo of the shot left his ears he could, just, hear the clatter of the ejected shell as it bounced down the length of the wagon's roof.

Bringing the scope down and back, Tony found the gaggle of bikers. They were all still there. Disappointed, he tried the shot another time. This time, he hit a rider, who tumbled and took another two down with him.

The wagon turned to the left, and seemed to fall away from Tony as its path grew steeper. For a moment, he pushed up at the straps that held him in the seat, and the rifle seemed ready to float from his grip. A van filled the sights, and he pulled the trigger from reflex.

They were rushing down the rutted slope toward the ford. After that there was a short ramp and they would be on the road, right in the front pack of raiders. Tony had just enough time to stow the hunting rifle and grab the assault rifle.

Wagon one hit the water of the river, raising waves either side of it nearly twice its height. For a frozen moment, the two walls of water hung before Tony, glittering. Then the water started splashing down around and over him, and he could see nothing for it. Wagon two slowed as it, too, hit the river and threw up spray.

Tony was pressed into the seat as the wagon hit the river bank and started climbing. He shook his head and blinked his eyes clear just in time to see wagon one cresting the bank and nearly getting all its wheels in the air. He was vaguely aware of a crashing as it came back down to earth. He braced, just as wagon two's front wheels started spinning on air.

For another slow motion moment, the wagon hung in the air between the top of the river bank and the rough pack of the road. The front of the vehicle began to pivot down again, and Tony pressed himself into the seat. The tyres landed on something that wasn't earth, and there was a nasty sound of metal tearing. Tony bounced in his seat as the rear wheels ran over whatever they had hit. The wagon heeled over as it turned sharply, and there was a crash as it collided with the same obstacle wagon one had hit. Tony saw the remnants of a car rolling away from them to hit another pursuing vehicle.

The wagon rocked upright again, and Tony spun his seat so he was facing backwards. They had driven into the pack of raiders, separating the vanguard, but making themselves a prime target. It was Tony's job to drive off the raiders behind them.

There was a red smear across the road that Tony recognised as a biker they had landed on upon cresting the river bank. His comrades were swerving around the mess of flesh and metal he had left behind. Tony loosed a volley at them, then traversed to fire at the group coming around the wrecks on the other side of the road.

When the magazine was empty, Tony stowed the assault rifle and reached into the bag of grenades. It didn't matter which type he pulled out, he wrapped the string trigger around the fingers of his left hand and tore it out. Tossing the grenade under arm so that it just passed over the far end of the wagon, he reached into the bag for another.

The fuse was short, but, still, half the pack had passed the grenade before it went off, throwing sticky flames all over a van and several bikers. Tony had already thrown a second grenade, and was preparing a third. He tossed this one off to the side, guessing where parts of the splitting pack might go. A fourth grenade went to the other side, then he tore the string from his fingers and grabbed the assault rifle again.

There were projectiles in the air between the wagon and the vehicles behind, dark slashes arcing through various trajectories. A crossbow bolt embedded in the roof beside the captain's chair, and another bounced off it. Tony had another magazine in the assault rifle now. He raised it and started squeezing off three shot bursts at their pursuers. They seemed to be dropping back, bikers and cars pulling away from the pursuit. The largest remaining vehicle was a pickup, and it appeared relentless. Tony fired several bursts at it, marking the plate across the windscreen, then putting several holes in the thinner metal of the bonnet. Something gave way, and there was a burst of flame and then smoke. The pickup slowed abruptly and waggled across the road.

The wagon slewed sideways, dodging around a burning wreck in the middle of the road. Maxine was obviously doing a good job of thinning out the raiders between the two wagons. As the vehicles behind dropped even further back, Tony spun the seat around again to face forwards. There were several bikes and two cars in the gap. Tony fed the assault rifle another magazine, and started firing into the group.

Up ahead, the valley closed in sharply and the road became steeper. The trucks they chased had slowed dramatically, and wagon one was closing on them almost too fast. It braked hard, and the rear waggled. The cars peeled to either side of it, avoiding collision, but not disaster. The one that went to the left hit a rock, folding one of the front wheels almost all the way back to the rear, and flipping it over. The one heading right found itself in the air, flying out and across the river to collide with the steep bank on the far side.

One motor bike couldn't stop in time, and ran into the rear of wagon one. The rider tumbled down the bank to the river, and wagon two ran over the remains of the bike. The remaining bikers braked sharply, laying their bikes to skid along on their sides if they had to, to get out of the closing gap between the wagons.

Tony spun his seat around again. What was left of the pack were milling around, soon to be out of range. The bikers who had crashed to get away from the wagons could have been easy targets, but that wasn't the sort of thing he wanted to do. Now that the wagons had slowed, however, he remained alert for further trouble.

A short way ahead, the road flattened out again, and the trucks could speed up again. They maintained the new pace for less than a minute, before vehicles coming down the road from the head of the valley made them slow and stop.