The Protectors (7 page)

"What's this?" I ask.

"An almanac," he answers. "It tells me that tonight should be cold and a full moon. With any luck it will be a clear sky, maybe we'll get a good wind too."

My hand jerks back from the book and I freeze
for a moment. "How can a book tell you that? Is it magic?"

"I've told you before, Teal. There's no such thing as magic. It's just a book that you can use to predict future weather based on past data. It's not looking into the future, only making a calculated prediction from sound scientific measurements."

Steering clear of the smaller book I touch pages of the three larger ones, all are open to sections showing lines intersecting with numbers and symbols.

"Wiring schematics," Grandpa sa
ys. "They tell me how to wire up the speaker to do what I want it to do."

Down on the floor ther
e are buckets filled with broken glass and sharp gravel. I am trying to take in everything, figure out what I can. "What about this stuff? This is not electronics."

Grandpa frowns
and turns away. "No. That is what I hope will give us an edge tonight."

"Tonight?"
I ask as a heaviness settles into my stomach. "What will the gravel and glass do?"

He points
to the inside of the large open speaker. "Inside there will be the normal speaker parts, but also explosives and a radio controlled detonator. The gravel and glass will be packed around it all to serve as projectiles that should at least wound anyone nearby when it goes off."

There was so muc
h of what he was saying that doesn't make sense to me, but one part is clear. "But what about the Chit Girls? They'll be in there too."

That frequent sadness pulls at
Grandpa's expression. "We're going to try to warn them, but we're not sure which can be trusted. A few are with us, but they've warned us to be wary of the rest."

"But
they're part of us. They're not with the Shriekers."

"That's true, but some of those women are so beat down that they would never think of crossing their masters. That's one of the
crimes of the Chit and the abuse it brings. It tends to take away your free will while making you grateful for the degradation."

"It doesn't seem right."

"Nothing about this situation is right. We have to make hard choices here and consider the greater good. If we're going to succeed we can't take any chances that someone might tip the Shriekers off."

I pick
up a handful of glass and squeezed it lightly in my hand. As I opened my hand again I see a thin line of blood on my palm. There is no pain, just that small red slash. I tell myself that hopefully, there will be no pain for any innocent harmed by Grandpa's speaker. I am probably lying to myself. The broken glass with my blood on it trickles back into the pail.

"I need you to go to R
euben's for me. Tell him it will be tonight and to send everything he has."

"Everything of what?"

"He'll know. Now go, Teal, and be careful."

I already know to be
careful, still I heed his words anew. Staying within the shelter of buildings as much as possible I watch carefully for Protectors before walking quickly to the next building and repeating the process. All the while my heart feels like it's beating too fast and I debate for perhaps the hundredth time if I have done right by setting all this into motion.

Reuben's house i
s easy to find. Like our home it has a small shed in the back, but this one has wood piled up around the outside along with baskets of rotting and half frozen peaches. The heavy smell of fermentation makes me wrinkle my nose.

I knock
on the outer door lightly and then enter. Reuben is tending a fire under a large enclosed copper bowl. He wears a thick leather apron and dirty gloves.

"Teal," Reuben
is not surprised. "On an errand from your grandfather I suspect."

He also is not drunk
. "Yes. Grandpa said tonight is the night and to send everything you got."

Reuben nods and goes
back to his work.

"All of what? What are you sending and to where?"

"Peach hard liquor, best in town," Reuben answers grinning. "Wine goes further, but the hard stuff is stronger. We want the Shriekers to have as little of their senses as possible when the time comes."

I thought of that handful of bloody glass. "Why not just poison them?"

Now Reuben is surprised and possibly there is a slight bit of respect. "A good idea. We talked about it, but none of us knows enough about poisons."

"Lots of things are poisonous," I say. "Surely we could put something in."

"Yes, but it wouldn't be tasteless. No one knows of any poison that can be added that won't alter the taste. And for all their lack of sophistication, the Shriekers like their alcohol to taste a certain way. I earned myself enough whippings to learn that."

I
had not been in here before. Various tubes and containers are tucked everywhere. A clear liquid drips into a large ceramic jug next to others of its like. The fumes are starting to make me dizzy.

"Was there something else?" h
e cocks his head. "You want to try a little bit?"

"No," I
retreat towards the door.

"Suit
yourself," his back is already to me as he keeps working.

Closing the shed door I pull
my coat up around my neck to keep out the bitter wind. Making my way to my Afternoon Shift in the goat field I try not to think about what will happen to us if we are found out.

Or fail
.

*******

The Old Ones and most of those Of Age are noticeably absent from the Remembering that night, all except Broily who has to play his part.

"I want to go with you," I'd told Grandpa.

"We need to keep up appearances as much as possible," he answered. "Every house has to have someone here to put the little ones to bed and settled down. We don't want them worrying. You've got Victor to take care of."

"But after he's asleep,
can I come join you?"

Grunting he
nodded his head reluctantly. "Yes. We're gathering at your grandmother's old bridal shop. Come when you can."

"You won't start without me will you?"

"No, it will likely be late," he answered sternly. "You seem in a damn hurry to get yourself killed."

I shake
my head. "I'm responsible for all this. At least in part. I should be there, no matter how it turns out."

His eyes soften
. "You're not responsible. I know you think that, but we would have had to do something eventually. You just helped me see the truth. No matter how things turn out tonight, this is not your doing or your fault."

"You sound as if you expect us to fail."

"No, this is a good plan. The best one we could come up with, but it hinges on women and girls being willing to fight the Shriekers. They think they can, but until the actual moment, who knows? Very few of us here have ever dared defy them or remember how to fight. There's a lot of ingrained submission in this town. Success will depend on whether we can overcome that habit or not."

I thought of
Mother with her knife and knew she would fight. I hope she doesn't do it alone and am determined that at least she will have me by her side.

"It's dark and we have to go now," Grandpa sa
ys. "After the Remembering, and once Victor is bedded down, you make your way to the shop."

Now I am
sitting in the Meeting Hall and listening to Broily drone on. Normally fascinated by his tales, I can't concentrate tonight. Most of the room seems pensive and out of sorts. Small children cry or squeal and older siblings react sternly, worry on their faces.

"
The cities were the worst," says Broily. "Once the government had broken down, not even food subsidies arrived. Millions of people crammed into sprawling urban areas with not enough food and water, even after most had died off. Transportation had ceased so nothing arrived and it was impossible to leave. Groups of desperate men and women banded together and preyed on each other."

"And everyone had to eat bodies," sa
ys little Samantha. "That's nasty."

"That mostly came later,"
answers Broily, "although I'm sure some did terrible things to survive. Fires raged in the cities day and night. The fumes and smoke killed many and drove more away from shelter and into areas where they were easy prey for the gangs."

"Road gangs?" asks
Bobby a young teenager.

"These were just gangs. The road gangs had motorcycles and were already around before
the End. When the world started to fall apart, they roamed the highways killing and robbing those trapped in long lines of cars. They had nowhere to go and, unlike the cars, the motorcycles could make their way through the packed lines of stationary vehicles."

"Is that what the
Shriekers did?" asks Jenny, a little redhead.

"I imagine it was," says
Broily, "but we don't know much about them before they came here."

"And now they protect us," says
Jenny cheerfully. "My momma says that without the Protectors we'd all be dead. We pray for them every night."

"That's very good," says Broily with the
tired Sad One smile. "We should all pray for each other this night and for our town. Now I think that's enough for tonight. Off to bed, little ones."

"What about
the Knights of the Watch?" asks Samantha in the stalling tactic that never fails.

"Not tonight," the old man surprises
us all. "Now everyone go off to bed, your mothers will be along soon, there're doing important work tonight."

The childre
n and older siblings quietly make their way out of the Meeting Hall and back to the Dormitory or their homes. Victor walks silently beside me and I am grateful for his presence. We both look up at the clear sky and the stars that seemed to go on forever.

"What wrong, Teal?" Victor asks
suddenly.

"Nothing's wrong
," I answer surprised at his intuitiveness.

"Where Miss Margaret?
Where Grandpa?"

"They're busy doing something for
the Protectors," I answer. "They'll be home soon, now let's get inside out of the cold."

I stir
up the fire and put on another log. On second thought, I add another just in case we are gone longer than I expect. Laying out Victor's pallet I look at him expectantly, and he dutifully takes off his boots and lies down in front of the fire cradling his rainmaker in his arms. After draping a blanket over his huge shoulders I sit in Grandpa's chair.

"You stay with me?" asks
Victor.

"I'll be right here," I lie
. "Just go to sleep."

I wait until I hear
his loud snores before arising. Starting to walk out the door I stop and stare at Victor for a few minutes, wondering what will happen to him if we don't return. On impulse I walk over and gently kiss him on the forehead and brush the hair out of his face. He smiles and rolls over.

Putting on my coat, I walk
out the door of our home into the expectant darkness.

*******

At first I think they are all gone, but then I see the slight movement in the back of the bridal shop. I have forgotten how large the interior is and the fact that there are storerooms in the back. Nearly eighty people are crammed together, makeshift spears, clubs, and axes in shaking hands or leaning against walls.

Grandpa and
Mother are the closest to the front. He is in his wheelchair and she stands behind him. Both are looking out the shattered front windows at the Shrieker House across the courthouse lawn. He has a blanket in his lap against the cold, but I can tell there is something bulky under the blanket.

"When?"
I ask.

"Not yet," Grandpa says
. "We want them to be as tipsy as possible. The music gets louder as they get drunker. We have many hours to go yet. Just relax."

I pace for a while and talk
to the other girls, but everyone is too nervous for conversation. Finally, I go and sit down near Grandpa and Mother, leaning back against the side of his wheelchair and burrowing under the edge of the blanket in his lap.

I dream I'm in the goat field and it's a beautiful day. The goats and dogs are all around me and I'm the only human in sight. Worriedly I search the perimeter for the Protectors or other girls, but I am alone and it's gettin
g dark. A familiar sound makes me squint through the dim light. A faint growl. Soon all the dogs take up the warning. I look for the threat, but see none and notice the dogs have surrounded me and the goats. They are growling at us. A dog leaps on a baby goat and tears its throat out and I yell for him stop. The goats are in a panic now bleating and screaming in fear and pain as the dogs attack from all directions. Suddenly it is quiet and all the goats are dead. I am surrounded by a ring of hungry dogs with glowing eyes. Turning, I look for a way out as they stalk forward. I scream as the dogs leap and bear me to the ground.