Avalon: The Retreat (26 page)

Morning came and she ventured out for a look around. There was nothing but her and Matthew as they began walking and she took out her compass to verify the course. Even though she had honed the skill at Quantico, her dad was the one who had taught her how to use a compass when she was a little girl. He taught her about camping too and those were some of her favorite memories.

Matthew didn’t say anything except, “Wait.”

She stopped and he ran behind a rock and emptied his bladder. When he came back out from behind the rock he said,

“I’m ready now.”

They began walking again and Beth calculated they might have two more weeks of hard hiking ahead of them to get to that old ranch. She hoped it was still there.

Two more incidents occurred where they saw people coming and hid. None of the people appeared to be anything other than refugees but Beth wasn’t going to take any chances. On the fifth day they passed a small house at the end of a field sitting in the shade of a stand of cottonwood trees. There was a cement-lined irrigation canal that passed by it, so she and Matthew climbed down into the canal and began to walk. It seemed like a better thing to do because they were hidden from view down here.

They came upon several skeletons in the canal a little further down; most were human, but she saw a few animal skeletons, as well. They still had some flesh on their bones and hair on their heads and they also had clothes on. One was dressed in jeans, a shirt, and boots and the other had on a dress. She wondered what happened here. The skulls displayed neat little holes in them and they looked like bullet holes; then she found a few shell casings lying on the sand-covered floor of the canal. This was a place of an execution and it gave her the creeps.

She wondered if Slavers had done this. Matthew stared at them and pushed against her tightly as they went by the bones. Ants and birds were everywhere and flies buzzed around the bones and made lots of noise. The birds were emboldened and did not move far from their feasting. The smell was stifling. The boy was scared.

They walked a little while longer and when they were adjacent to the little house, they got out and walked over to it. You could see for a mile or more in every direction and there was nothing in sight but weeds and hard-packed, sun-baked dirt.

The screen door hung by one hinge and banged occasionally against the jamb as the slight breeze coming out of the west pushed it gently back and forth. The sky was cloudless and baby blue. They walked into the little house that appeared to be abandoned and in disarray. Someone had been here and turned tables and chairs over and broke a few windows, but it could be livable again with just a little work. They turned on the spigot in the sink and nothing came out.

There was a noise in another room and Beth pulled the revolver from its holster, pointing it at the ceiling as her elbow bent at the joint with the movement. Her dad always told her to never point at anything you weren’t going to shoot. She put a hand to Matthew’s lips and walked toward the sound.

She went through the door and cocked the .357 at the same instant. A little girl was standing there near the entrance of a hidden closet with a can of peaches she had just dropped still rolling on the floor. She saw Matthew and Beth and instantly began to pee, it ran down her leg, and she stood in a puddle in her bare feet. She was dirty and Beth guessed she was about four or five. Her hair was straggly and dirty and she was shaking as if she was very cold. She trembled from head to foot.

Beth put the revolver in the holster and stretched her arms out to the little girl and went down on one knee. She wiggled her fingers to the girl beckoning her. The girl had her fingers from one hand in her mouth and tears were dripping down her cheeks. Beth inched her way toward her, scooted along and said in a gentle voice,

“Come here honey, no one is going to hurt you. My name is Beth. Come on, don’t be afraid, come on…”

The little girl ran over to Beth and threw her arms around her neck and was crying and saying something that neither Beth nor Matthew understood. They remained in that position until Beth began to feel it in her knees. So she straightened up and picked the girl up who promptly wrapped her wet legs around Beth’s sides, hugged her neck, and wouldn’t let go. It took awhile but the little girl finally said,

“My name is Glory and I’m five already. Some bad men came and took my daddy and mommy away and they never came back. I was eating the stuff in there and waitin’ for them to come back.”

She was referring to the canned food that was stored in the little storage room.

“I hid in there for a long time,” she pointed to the closet. “When the bad men came into the house, my mommy put me in there.” She hesitated, apparently remembering the scene in her mind. “Then she closed the door and put a chair in front of it. I heard screaming and yelling and then the voices got smaller. Later, I heard loud popping noises. I was quiet when the people came back and throwed things around and then they left. I opened canned stuff and ate it.”

Beth looked in the closet. There were three five-gallon water bottles in there and Glory had managed to get one open. She was drinking water from an empty can that was sitting on the floor next to the water bottle. There were still a lot of canned goods in there as well and they started looking for something to carry them in. She found a large water canteen and filled it up. A search of the house revealed a few pillow cases and she tore a few pieces off to make a harness so they could carry the water bottles on their backs.

It was the day before New Years. It was cold outside and the retreat was in what Mike referred to as “The Holiday Routine.” The normal jobs were getting done and the people stood their watches, but a new year was coming and people were painfully aware that it was a different world they were living in. What was in the past was now a poignant part of history, and it was time to begin recording what happened in the world and where things were headed.

Many of them felt that they should adopt a new flag because there wasn’t much left of the U.S. anymore. They decided to put the word out to the group and have people enter a contest by submitting designs as to how it should look. At another meeting, someone proposed adding a different banner to the American flag, one of their own designs that would represent them as a group and reflect the new country they were in the process of building. They agreed that everyone would submit their own rendition of what the new flag should look like.

They worked on it tirelessly. There were some very innovative designs and each was labeled with the designer’s name; the distinctive designs grew rapidly. Some submitted different conceptions and others seemed to be very creative and proposed various innovations regularly. No decision was made and after awhile the zeal to submit began to ebb away until there were no more being submitted and then they all forgot about it.

It was at one of those after dinner meetings that a proposal was put forward to begin writing a history of Avalon and its people. There would be births and deaths, much would happen, and changes were bound to become their own history as time went by. It needed to be recorded for the generations that would follow. Those children not yet born would deserve to know what it was like during the war and what happened to every person at Avalon as the progress of time ebbed away. There were also those who wanted the history of not only the United States to be preserved but the history of the rest of the world as well. Nothing should ever be intentionally left out of the story.

“If there are no objections,” Linda, the resident Chef, said after raising her hand and being recognized, “I recommend that Penny Rolls be the person to do that.”

She paused, and everyone concurred. Penny smiled a little self-consciously for being put on the spot but didn’t object.

“How do you feel about this important responsibility, Penny?” Mike asked her in a direct way, making eye contact. He waited and she answered by saying,

“It would be an honor to document the happenings and preserve what transpires here. In fact, I have been doing just that since I became a member of the group. I have been writing down most everything in my personal diary. Now, I can make it official to you all.”

She paused to take a deep breath and continue, but Sam raised his hand to be recognized.

“Yes, Sam,” she was somewhat glad to take the spotlight off of herself. “What is it?”

“Penny,” Sam got a wide grin on his face as he spoke, “Does that mean we will all be able to read what you have written in your diary?”

“Not all of it, Sam,” she smiled, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “There are certain parts I will keep for myself.”

Sam replied a little too quickly, “Does that mean all that stuff about you and Harlan is going to remain a secret?”

Crystal could not believe he said it and she punched him in the ribs; everybody laughed. Sam feigned being hurt. “A doctor,” he yelled, “I need a doctor. Anybody know where I can find a doctor?”

The laughter was contagious and the place was alive with laughter and more than a few comments. Harlan Herrera stepped over to Penny’s side and put an arm around her waist and was smiling from ear to ear. Everyone knew what was going on between them and it was sanctioned by one and all, not that they needed approval.

Penny became the historian of the group. Years ago, she brought with her cases of blank, bound books, and added them to the library. She also hoarded reams of paper that she brought up those many times and every day she wrote in precise penmanship the happenings at Avalon. She posted them at the entry to the doorway of the huge lounge in the main building where everyone could read it each and every day from that day forward. It was named the
Avalon Reporter
.

That night the dining area was still set up as it was for the Christmas party the week before. Chad and Linda laid everything out on joined tables buffet-style and the food was spectacular as usual, except for one difference. This was a special moment for all of them. They were beginning a new year at Avalon and it was the beginning of a new life for each of them.

Nothing would ever be as it was; every one of them knew they had lost friends and loved ones due to the war and the keenly distressing problems the war caused. They were grateful for Avalon and to Mike and Dan because through them, they were here. They followed the progress of the war and the ravages it caused from the radio broadcasts and they learned there were people all over the planet suffering incredible hardships and even death.

They were thriving here. They lived, they laughed, and they worked side-by-side. These were people whom they chose to be with until they died. It was their choice… they made it when they had the freedom to decide for themselves and did not have those decisions passed down to them by some obscure edict dreamed up by some bureaucrat. The children were growing up with a value system that would carry them through all of their adult lives with a sense of dignity and self worth. A lot could be attributed to Avalon, but this place was only a shell or the body of something much larger. It was the people who made the soul of Avalon.

The people came one by one and some came together to this New Year celebration. They came laughing and chattering and some held hands while others locked arms. Happiness fell on the place like a comforter full of warmth. The watch standers were the only people left out of the festivities, but at a different time, such a vacancy would be rectified.

People were enjoying themselves thoroughly now as the festivities began. A prayer was offered and everyone bowed their heads. Each person listened but also said a silent prayer of their own to give thanks for the blessings of Avalon and the people residing here. With a closing “Amen,” they were ready to eat.

They headed for the plates, piled on the food, and then sat down and ate a wonderful and filling meal. The small calf they had slaughtered was the main course and the mashed potatoes and beef chunky gravy topped it off. There were green peas and sweet potatoes scooped out on most of the plates followed by tender and succulent squash smothered in melted butter. The desserts were apple pie, peach cobbler, and fruit cake loaded with nuts, wild blueberries, and candied fruits. The group talked and had coffee with either real cream or milk. Some preferred water but whatever they had, it was refreshing and they were thankful to be here together to celebrate a year of freedom and safety.