The Seeds of Man (6 page)

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Authors: William C. Dietz

BOOK: The Seeds of Man
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The bullet hit Valez in the chest, plucked him off his feet, and dumped him onto the ground. None of the protectors had killed a citizen before, so the death stunned everyone except former police officer Larry Fry, who opened fire with his assault weapon. The slugs were intentionally aimed low, so most of the protectors had their legs knocked out from under them. But automatic weapons have a tendency to rise as they’re fired—and as Lora looked on she saw a bullet smash into Hal Mackey’s face. As he fell, George grabbed her arm. “Get on the Sno-Cat—now!”

Lora did as she was told, heard the doors slam, and felt the vehicle jerk into motion. As she looked out the window, she could see protectors sprawled in all sorts of positions. Most were out of action, but one fired a pistol. Fry shot her dead.

Hatch 5 was open by that time, and snowflakes swirled around the Sno-Cat as the V-shaped blade mounted on the front of the vehicle pushed through a snowdrift. The headlights swung wildly and Lora got a glimpse of stunted trees as the driver turned onto an old access road. Lora heard someone say, “The second Cat is out,” and knew the group was in the clear—all except for Stan Valez. He was dead and she was to blame. Lora began to cry, and a woman named Cassie Elano tried to comfort her. “Everything will be okay,” Cassie said, but Lora knew better. Everything
wouldn’t
be okay, couldn’t be okay after what she’d done. The Cat bounced wildly as it passed over an obstacle, the headlights bored holes in the darkness, and the wilderness consumed them.

Lora stopped crying after a while and sat with her eyes closed and listened to the adults talk. The majority believed there was very little chance that the council would send protectors after them. For one thing, the leavers had both Sno-Cats. Even so, the protectors could follow on snowmobiles if they chose to. But most thought they wouldn’t. The keepers feared the outer world and were unlikely to send protectors into it.

Regardless, the leavers wanted to put some distance between themselves and the Sanctuary. The plan was to keep going. Eventually the voices started to fade, and the drone of the engine lulled Lora to sleep. When she awoke, it was to find that the Sno-Cat was stopped. It was dark outside and she could see snow falling through the beams from the headlights. “Where are we?”

“About a hundred miles south of the Sanctuary,” Cassie replied. “There’s a restaurant off to our left. Fry took a couple of men to check it out. Assuming it’s clear, we’ll go in and take a break.”

The all clear came a few minutes later, and both Snow-Cats pulled into the area behind the restaurant. Lora felt a blast of cold air as somebody opened a door. A man named Harvey Nix instructed them to bring all the packs inside, and so they did. The snow was about a foot deep, making it difficult to walk, and because Lora was wearing school shoes rather than boots, her feet were cold and wet by the time she entered the building.

Battery-powered lamps were set up on tables in a back room where the light wouldn’t be visible through the front windows. The building had clearly been looted, but most of the furniture was intact. “Put the packs on the tables,” Harvey Nix instructed. “Then look for the one with your name on it. Once you find it, I suggest that you remove the parka and boots. You’ll want to wear them from this point forward.”

One of the adults called Lora’s name and waved her over. The pack was dark blue and clearly full. A ground tarp, sleeping bag, and snowshoes were attached to it. Lora felt grateful. Now she had something of her own. But once the parka and boots were removed from the pack, it was half-empty. That was something of a shock and made her wonder. Did the group have enough supplies?

Only one pack went unclaimed—the one with the name “Stan Valez” on it. “We’ll divvy Stan’s stuff up during the next couple of days,” Nix said.

His statement triggered a series of comments. “Poor bastard.”

“Did you see that? He charged them!”

“Yeah, but how did the protectors know?”

“Hal Mackey was with them.”

“Okay, but how did
he
know?“

The last question was followed by a moment of silence. George Larsy broke it. His expression was bleak. “What about that, Lora? Do you know how Mr. Mackey found out?”

Lora felt an overwhelming sense of shame as all eyes focused on her. She looked down at her feet. “I told his son, Matt. He promised not to tell.”

George nodded. “I think we can assume that Matt broke his promise to you. Just as you broke your promise to me. I’m very sorry,” George said as he looked from face to face. “I thought I could trust Lora and I was wrong. I hope you can forgive us.”

“Tell it to Stan,” one of the men said bitterly.

“She’s only a kid,” Cassie put in.

“A stupid kid,” one of the others said, and Lora knew he was right. Trusting Matt had been very stupid indeed.

The impromptu meeting broke up as people went to work pulling on boots and inspecting the items in their packs. That was when George came over to wrap an arm around Lora’s shoulders. She was sobbing. “I’m sorry, honey . . . but there was no way to conceal what you did—and it would have been wrong to try. Don’t worry. Time will pass, and as people get to know you, feelings will change.”

Lora wiped her face with her sleeve. She didn’t believe it but nodded anyway.

After spending the night in the restaurant, the leavers got up, made individual breakfasts, and were back in the Sno-Cats by nine a.m. There had been no signs of pursuit, and morale was high, the single exception being Lora. Her father spoke to her, as did Cassie, but the rest of the group seemed determined to ignore her.
But you’re used to that,
Lora told herself.
And you deserve it.

Lora retreated into herself as the Sno-Cat followed the highway south. And there was plenty to think about. She loved her father but knew him to be an idealist and less than pragmatic. Yet there had been no reason to assume that
all
the leavers were equally lame. To the contrary, Lora had assumed that the others were competent. Unfortunately, as the hours passed, they proved her wrong.

The first problem was that half of the Sno-Cat’s fuel supply was gone. She could see that by looking at the gauge. And while math wasn’t Lora’s best subject, she knew that if the Cat could hold twenty-five gallons of fuel and it was crawling along at ten miles per hour, the leavers could travel only 250 miles before they ran out of gas. Then what?

After asking a series of questions, she was able to learn that, no, the group didn’t expect to find any additional fuel, and, yes, they planned to proceed on foot. The prospect didn’t seem to worry her companions in spite of the fact that at least half of them were clearly out of shape.

But given her age and lack of social standing, Lora knew none of them would listen to her. So all she could do was sit wedged between her father and Cassie while the wintry scenery rolled past. It seemed as if the two adults had a lot to say to each other, and while most of it had to do with their unrealistic hopes for the future, there were other undertones as well, what Lora recognized as man-woman stuff. And that was when Lora realized something very disturbing. Her father was interested in Cassie!

Not counting her mother, he’d never had a relationship before, not so far as Lora knew, so why now? Maybe the answer lay in the almost giddy sense of freedom that the people around her seemed to be experiencing. Whatever the reason, Lora didn’t like it. Her father was the one person she had left, and if Cassie took him she’d be all alone.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Cats turned off the road and followed a long driveway up to a house and barn. They stopped short of the buildings so a team led by Fry could check them both.

With that out of the way, both vehicles were driven into the barn and parked side by side—for good, Lora thought, given the fact that the fuel gauge in her vehicle was sitting on “E.” That judgment was confirmed an hour later as the group met in the barn, which was empty except for the Cats, an old tractor, and lots of rusty junk. Lora could see her breath, but Fry said they couldn’t have a fire until nightfall, when the smoke wouldn’t show.

Once again it seemed as if Nix was in charge. “We’re about 225 miles south of the Sanctuary,” he said proudly, “and that means phase one of our plan is complete. Tomorrow marks the beginning of phase two. Since the Sno-Cats are nearly out of fuel, we’ll walk from this point forward. Each person will be responsible for their own pack, and we’ll take turns carrying the seeds.”

By that time Lora had seen the trunk-sized containers and knew that each one was filled with pilfered seed packets. The goal was to find the right community and plant them, triggering what the group imagined would be a virtuous cycle. As crops were harvested, seeds would be put aside for sharing, and that would lead to the rebirth of agriculture in North America.

It was a noble ambition, and one that Lora favored, the problem being that lots of things could go wrong. The leavers were committed to the concept, however, and if any members of the group had doubts, they didn’t choose to voice them.

“Okay,” Nix finished, “eat dinner and get some sleep. Most of us are out of shape, so we’ll take it easy tomorrow. The goal is to walk ten miles. Any questions?”

Lora had questions but couldn’t ask them publically, so she went to her father. He was busy laying his sleeping bag on a blue tarp and smiled when he saw her. “There you are! It might be a good idea to keep your clothes on tonight. It’s bound to get even colder.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Lora said obediently. “I have a question about tomorrow. What if we run into the barbarians? Mr. Fry won’t be able to defend us all by himself. Shouldn’t he train people to fight?”

“That’s a very good question,” George said, “and we discussed it. But here’s the problem. If we were to stay here for a week, we would consume seven days’ worth of rations, and we can’t afford to do that. So Mr. Fry will train us while we travel south.”

Much to Lora’s surprise, the answer made sense. It was risky, however, because there was a chance that the party would be attacked
before
the training took place, but at least the leavers had given the matter some thought.

So Lora said good night and went over to the area where the single females were going to sleep and got ready for bed. Fortunately it was warm inside the sleeping bag and it wasn’t long before Lora fell asleep.

Morning came quickly, and when it did most of the leavers rose in a good mood, eager to tackle the task ahead. Many ate hearty breakfasts, but Lora was the exception. Some of the adults thought the party would find food along the way, but Lora had seen the inside of the restaurant and thought that a substantial find was unlikely. She consumed half of what she wanted to, stored the rest of her breakfast in her pack, and spent the rest of the time adjusting her pack and getting used to the snowshoes.

Once the group was ready to go, Fry led them out. He had two people with him at all times. Their job was to break trail while learning whatever they could from the ex-protector, who, truth be told, hadn’t been trained for cross-country hikes. In fact, according to Lora’s analysis, the only thing Fry could teach them was how to use firearms. And once the rest of the adults acquired that knowledge, they would be as skilled as he was. Still, most of the leavers seemed to take comfort in the myth that Fry could protect them, and that was good for morale.

As the leavers left the barn, they stepped into bright sunshine, which was rare due to all the smoke and particulate matter thrown up into the atmosphere by the nuclear war five decades earlier. So the clear weather seemed like a good omen, and even Lora felt a sense of optimism as they set out. Not counting the trip in the Sno-Cat, and brief journeys to and from it, this was the first time she’d been outside the Sanctuary. She delighted in the cold, crisp air, the crunching sound that her snowshoes made as they broke through crusty snow, and all the wild vegetation. Wherever Lora looked, there were trees, bushes, and a wide variety of plants, all growing in a random manner. It was very different from the strictly controlled environment she was used to.

She’d seen pictures, of course, but the foliage looked greener, the ice crystals embedded in the top layer of snow glittered like tiny diamonds, and the sky was a beautiful blue. Up front she could see Fry, accompanied by her father and Don Beck, both armed with rifles. Then came Ed Dero and Jon Gore, carrying a trunk full of seeds on what amounted to a litter. Tim Hobbs and Ralph Kilmer were right behind them with a second box. Because each container weighed a hundred pounds, both men were carrying fifty pounds in addition to their packs. That made it difficult for them to match the pace of the people who weren’t carrying an extra burden.

Meanwhile, Lora was stepping on her own snowshoes. Gradually she discovered that it was necessary to adopt a wider stance. That helped, but there were slippery spots and places where it was necessary to negotiate obstacles. Lora began to watch for small trees that could be used to make trekking poles.

Then, as the road began to rise, the group was forced to use the traction devices on the bottom of their snowshoes and the pace slowed. Shortly thereafter the rotations started, and Lora and three adult women were brought forward to carry a seed box.

Lora didn’t mind carrying her share of the load but could tell that some of the older women were struggling, and she thought she knew why. It wasn’t the weight so much as the need to stay in step with each other. Something to think about.

Clouds gradually moved in to block the sun, and what originally seemed like fun became a grueling march. Three hours later, when the group arrived at what had been a combination gas station and country store, all of them were ready for a rest. The complex had been looted so many times that all the windows were broken, the shelves were empty, and the gas pumps were riddled with bullet holes. Still, it was a place to pause, and people went every which way looking for places to sit and eat.

Lora took the opportunity to seek out her father. He was sitting on a seed trunk next to Cassie, and as they looked up at her, the two adults wore guilty expressions, like kids caught raiding a cookie jar. Lora felt the usual sense of resentment but pushed it away. Her father desired some happiness, and if that meant Cassie, then so be it. Lora would get out of the way. “Hey, Lora,” George said awkwardly. “How’s it going?”

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