The Last Pilgrims (30 page)

“We’re only about a mile from Harmony, so we
won’t have to carry this stuff very far,” Timothy told her as they
headed to the west. “We should be there not long before sunrise and
we’ll be able to get some rest.”

The ride to Harmony was quiet and uneventful
and each member of the posse seemed to be both pensive and
reflective as they considered the death of the Vallensian women.
Ruth figured that the women had been captured during the attack up
near Comanche, and that the looters had been part of a group that
had participated in the slaughter of the 2,000 Valensians there.
She wondered how many more captive women or children might be out
there in the soulless and cruel hands of looters, thieves, and
rapists; and then she was forced to face the reality that her
father was in the hands of the same kind of people.

Times like this truly tested her faith. She
wanted to ask God how He could let things like this happen to such
a peaceful people; but her father was always telling her that faith
does not protect us
from
danger or trials or suffering…
faith strengthens us and gives us peace
in
dangers, and
trials, and suffering. “Nobody promised us a rose garden.” he would
always say.

Before she had time to get too deeply into
her own thoughts on the matter, they were drawing close to the
secretive place the Ghost militia called by its one-word title —
‘Harmony’.

When they were still several hundred yards
away, the posse reined up on the eastern edge of what looked like a
large but shallow canyon. She steadied Peloncio as Timothy came up
beside her.

“We have to signal from here. We’d likely be
dead if we tried descending into the caliche pit without
signaling.”

“Caliche pit?” she asked as she examined the
canyon.

“Caliche is a material that they used to use
as a road base for country roads back before the collapse.
‘Caliche’ means ‘clay’, and there are pits like this all over Texas
where they dug out the white, rocky clay to spread on the
roads.

“Phillip bought this pit and several hundred
acres around it almost a decade before the collapse. He set up a
small company that sold caliche to farmers and ranchers. All the
while he was building the Harmony facility in the wall of the pit.
It was the perfect cover for an excavating operation.”

“What is the Harmony facility?”

Timothy straightened up in his saddle,
stretching out his back after the long ride. As he stretched, Piggy
began making a very peculiar animal-like sound that Ruth could not
readily identify; but he did it loudly enough that they were all
certain that whatever militia guards were out there would know that
they had company coming.

“Harmony, in addition to being an armory and
storage facility, is an orphanage, school, and training center for
children and young men. I was raised and trained in a similar
school up north of here that Phillip started after the crash. He
had to open a few others because there were so many orphans around
then. As the militia patrolled this whole area of Central and North
Texas, orphans would be saved and gathered up and sent to the
orphanages.

“Once the orphans arrived at a place like
Harmony, they would be evaluated over several weeks as they were
fed and treated for malnourishment or whatever afflictions they
might have. If they were considered militia material, they were
enrolled in the militia schools and they would begin their
training. If it were to be determined that they were not militia
material—perhaps they were too docile or what Phillip might
consider to be inordinately sensitive—they would be placed in a
regular school, where they would remain until they could be adopted
out.”

“How would that work?” she asked. “I mean,
how did you adopt out orphans after the crash?”

Timothy laughed and gave her a sly look.
“Well, your father may not know it, but there were Vallenses in and
around San Angelo who knew Phillip and who quietly and privately
supported what he was doing. They would never let any of the
Vallensian elders know that they were materially supporting the
militia, but I guess it was one of the worst kept secrets around
before this war started.

“Out of 20,000 or so Vallenses, there were
many, many people who believed that they were obeying their
consciences by supporting the militias, even if they were not being
completely open with their own eldership about it. Anyway, these
Vallenses would take in the orphans whenever they could place them
in good homes. Many of the Vallensian families wanted more children
after the collapse, and some of them had lost some or most of their
own. Your people love large families and highly prize children (she
noticed a slight wetness in his eyes as he said this)—something
that was another stark difference between you and those in the
pre-crash world.

“I was one of those set aside for militia
training.”

“Did you enjoy it? What was it like?”

“It was all I knew. I never knew any other
life, and I still don’t. The time I have spent with you and your
family at your ranch was the first time I’ve ever seen a glimpse
that there might be another life available out there.” He paused
for a moment, looking down, “We need to go… the others are heading
down.”

Harmony was a huge underground facility
built into the walls of the caliche pit. It was completely obscured
from the outside by the boulders, rocks, and bushes that were
carefully arranged outside of its entrance. Ruth didn’t see any of
the facility guards, but she was told that there were always 20 or
more of the Ghost militia on guard at any time, protecting the
facility.

Inside she was amazed at the complexity and
size of the Harmony facility. There were teaching facilities,
barracks, an armory, a kitchen, and a large common area the boys
there called ‘The Plaza’. During the day, when the children were
not in school or in training, they were permitted to explore around
the caliche pit while militia and training guards watched out for
any individuals or groups that might be approaching. A simple
signal from a guard would send everyone, with military precision,
scrambling back into the facility. The students and the instructors
had been very carefully and expertly trained in the defense of the
complex.

At any given time, Timothy informed her,
there were up to 100 students at Harmony, which was the largest of
the militia training facilities. Regular supplies and materials,
usually donated by participating Vallenses, or purchased, bartered,
or traded with other traveling traders, were brought in militia
caravans to the complex.

All of the students at Harmony, both militia
and those who were assigned for adoption, received an education
while they were there. She knew now why all of the militia men
seemed to be so well-spoken and intelligent. Timothy told her that
they were expected to read and write well and to be familiar with
the basics of different areas of philosophy and economics. They
were also well versed in many of the classics of literature, which
is why so many of the militia men were able to quote from those
classics, and why they argued and debated esoteric points of
Shakespeare and Tolstoy, often even while they were actively
training.

Ruth was assigned to a room, and Peloncio
was led off by an eager eleven year old boy who promised to feed,
water, and comb the horse out for her.

There were no beds in the rooms at Harmony.
Everyone slept on the floor. She was told that her room was
actually extraordinary, in that it included a blanket and a
homemade pillow. This room was only for guests and children slated
for adoption, she was told. Militia trainees were expected to sleep
on the ground, with only their coats and clothing for any added
comfort. Most often they slept outside, and sometimes they trained
by sleeping on the sides of the cliffs, or even on horses. She was
glad to have a blanket and a pillow, and upon lying down, she was
deeply asleep in minutes.

When she awoke, she wandered around the
complex until she found Timothy and the rest of the posse in the
kitchen, gathered around a long wooden table and drinking some kind
of herbal tea. She didn’t ask what it was when it was offered to
her, but upon tasting it she decided that it was quite nice. She
figured she’d probably rather not know what was in it.

“Glad to see you got some rest,” Timothy
said, greeting her with a smile.

“Look,” Piggy said, good-naturedly, “it’s
the old ball and chain.”

Ruth saw Tim scowl at Piggy and then punch
him very hard in his upper arm.

“Ouch!” Piggy yelled, feigning great pain
and emotional distress. “I will not be mauled and abused by the
likes of you!”

“Quit being a jerk, then,” Tim replied,
shaking his head.

“That’s it! I’m going to see if we can find
a cook to scare us up some vittles… unless,” he looked at Ruth with
sudden mock seriousness, “unless you are planning on non-violently
dragging in a panther or a T-Rex or something?”

“I could see to it that there is Piggy on
the menu, if you’d like to keep it up?”

“Oh, no ma’am! I’ll be good. Oink! Oink!” He
pirouetted, before turning back to her and laughing, “Two legs
good, four legs bad!”

The rest of the posse got up with Piggy,
laughing at his antics. They all waved at Tim as they started out
of the kitchen to see if they could locate the cook. As they were
walking out, Ruth shouted to Marbus Claim to remain. He looked
around, not understanding why, but obediently came back to the
table.

“Marbus,” she said, “the Vallensian
ordnung
—these are the unwritten but inviolable rules we live
by—does not allow for a woman… or a girl… and man to be alone with
someone of the opposite sex who is not their spouse. I’d appreciate
it if you would stay here and join us.”

“Sure,” Marbus answered. “I don’t get most
of their jokes anyway. So I just maintain my right to remain
silent.”

“Probably a good policy,” Timothy nodded,
before turning to Ruth. “We’ve decided that it is most probable
that your father has been taken to El Paso and not to New Rome. I’m
sad to tell you that it is not likely that we’ll catch the men who
took him before they make it to the city. We could ride hard and
fast and try to catch them, but from here on in we are going to be
increasingly out in the open in the badlands, and it wouldn’t be
wise for us to try it. We might harm the horses, or ride into an
ambush.

“So,” he said, sighing, “we’ve decided to
keep on moving methodically towards El Paso, and when we get there
we’ll try to figure out what to do.”

“I see,” she said.

“The militia has at least one spy in the
castle at El Paso. We’re hoping that when we get there, we’ll be
able to locate him and plan a rescue.”

“Ok,” she said resignedly. “I know that you
men know more about this than I do. I’m in it for the long haul,
and I know that you all want my father back safely as well. So,
count me in. Just… please make sure to keep me informed on what is
going on. If something changes, or… if you receive bad news… I do
want to know about it.”

“It’s a deal.”

Later that afternoon, after a delicious meal
of heavy acorn bread, lentil soup, and boiled potatoes, the posse
gathered together in front of the entrance as their horses were led
out to them by the boys of Harmony. As they prepared and checked
their saddles and equipment, they heard the distinctive call of a
militiaman approaching. They were all a bit shocked to see The
Mountain ride up and dismount.

Rollo nodded at the group as he gave
instructions to the boys to swap out horses for him. After he had
arranged for a fresh horse, he approached the group.

“Phillip sent me to join up with you,” he
said, with a sideways look at Ruth. “I have an urgent message to
deliver to her father when we find him.”

Traveling across the badlands in the summer
on horseback is a rough and difficult journey even if you are
practiced, prepared, and intelligent. Trying to do so while stupid
is a recipe for disaster. Jonathan was trying not to be
uncharitable—even in his thoughts—but after his captors had killed
their second horse, he was forced to conclude that stupidity may
not be a sin
per se
, but it sure can be costly.

After covering almost 100 miles on the first
full day after his capture, with temperatures nearing the century
mark, his kidnappers had tried to duplicate the feat on the second
day but had been forced to slow way down after the sudden death of
the second horse. His captors had to be thinking that the militia
would be hot on their trail, and they needed to get to El Paso as
soon as possible in order to avoid being captured.

What they did not know, and probably could
not even fathom, was that the militia posse—which was undoubtedly
following them—wouldn’t be willing to kill their own horses and
strand themselves in the Chihuahuan Desert just to make haste.
Instead, they would be tracking their quarry slowly and
steadily—waiting for the Aztlanis to make a mistake. His trio of
captors had made nothing but mistakes, and it was inevitable that
there would be more errors in their future. His job would be to
exacerbate those errors.

The initial operation of kidnapping him had
been fairly well thought out, and it had gone off without a hitch.
The three Aztlani spies, dressed as straggling Vallensian refugees
recently arrived from the south, had called to him from the side of
the road. When he approached them, one of the men grabbed his horse
by the reins. The militia guards—Morell, and the young man they
called Raymond—obviously believing that the three men speaking to
Jonathan were Vallenses who knew him, rode over to see what was
going on. That was when the Aztlani soldier named Leo suddenly ran
Morell through with a sword that he had hidden under his cloak.
Raymond had barely enough time to register what was happening, and
to begin to react, when Leo spun around and caught him across the
hip and thigh with a massive swing of the heavy sword. Raymond had
escaped, but Jonathan knew that the boy was hurt badly. He hoped
that God had spared the young man’s life, but the wound looked
very, very bad to him.