Circles in the Dust (21 page)

chapter 25

“Hello, David.”

He knew the Mayor was coming; there had been a thundering of footsteps when the men had returned from the fields, and he had been anxiously awaiting the Mayor’s arrival for a while. He must have gone to change before coming to see David. His clothes looked void of soil. He was standing very straight, with David’s pack in one hand.

David rolled away from the wall and stood up to face the man with the mission.

“Hello,” was his curt reply. The Mayor motioned for David to sit down, and plopped his considerable girth next to him. David heard the metal legs of the cot squeal in protest, but they held. He leaned the pack up against the side of the bed between them.

“So,” the Mayor said as he sat stolidly, as if waiting for a reply, though he kept his eyes forward, toward the door. Light trickled in from the hallway, the dull glow of evening, a light dimmed by the dismal walls and dark wood floors. This close up, David could see how much the man’s skin sagged, part of what made him appear so caecilian, and realized that the man had a paunch and carried a good amount of reserve fuel, but must at one time have been much larger. David had been rather surprised at first to see such an overweight man in this new world of hunger, but this must be skinny version of the Mayor.

“I guess you’re probably curious what we would like you to do,” the man rumbled.

“It’s crossed my mind.”

“Mm,” the frog responded. “And if I told you we don’t need your help?”

David had not been expecting this, and hoped it was a bluff, a hypothetical question. “Waste-not-want-not,” David intoned. “I’m offering my help, no strings attached.”

“Ah, but there are strings,” the Mayor countered, a devilish grin, one well crafted (surely due to much practice), decorating his jowls.

“I just want the chance to survive, like everyone else. Just like you,” he said pointedly, looking at the chubby man whose eyes remained fixed on the door.

“And you want us to give it to you.” This was a statement, but he turned to David as he said it, eyebrows raised, as if it were a question. And he looked like he was waiting for an answer.

“I just
—”

“I know, David. I just want to make sure that you are fully aware that you are not doing this as a selfless act. You are not a hero. Granted, you could have come over and joined the Outliers, you could still be planning on doing so. But know this. We are the ones with the resources. We are the ones that will carry on. You have not seen much of the people here, but they have been keeping those outside the walls from coming in for nearly two years, and they will fight to the death to keep it that way. Until a better scenario presents itself, at least. The water is choppy at the moment, it’s hard to tell which way we are headed, but I can tell you I would like it to be the path of peace. I do not want to see my people die, not a single one. I fear we are heading over a cliff into the violence that left us in this shit-hole, and that is the last thing that I want.

“We have tried to reason with them, we tried to give them some of what we have, but everything we have tried has failed. This can’t go on forever. By now, even if we had a solution, they would never accept it coming from one of us. There are hard feelings in both camps. Blood has been spilt. That’s a tough thing to reconcile, chumming up with the ones who killed your best friend or your wife or your son.” He paused and sighed, and David believed he saw a tear gathering in the corner of his eye. Perhaps the man was not so hard, after all.

“David, if you can do that, if you can bring our peoples closer together, you will deserve the thanks and respect of every man and woman left alive today. We may very well be the last chance humanity has; those who have left to find other sanctuaries of humanity have never, not once, returned, and food everywhere is running out. If we can’t make this work, we face extinction. I hate to say that I can’t do this, but maybe it is just beyond me. That’s why you’re here. That’s why I didn’t have you thrown out immediately. That’s why I didn’t strangle you myself when I thought you had kidnapped my daughter. That is why I am passing the torch on to you.”

He gave David a long, hard look containing the most emotion David had seen from this monolith. In it was the despair at being incapable of doing what needed to be done for the good of his people. The hope that David would be able to accomplish this feat. And the fear of what would happen if David was not up to the task.

But he was.

“I will do the best I can.”

“That’s all
—”

“No,” David interrupted, a fire rising within him. “I will do it. I will find a way. I will not let the impossible overwhelm me again. I won’t go there. I can’t. I’ve seen what life has to offer and I want it. I want everyone to have it. I’ve been alone, and it was too much for me to handle, so I will protect as many people as I can. You have my word. This place is an oasis, and it’s a desert out there. We all need this place. They know it out there, or they would have left by now. No, they know it just as well as you and I, and there has to be a way to make everyone happy, or at least keep them fed. There has to.” David quieted, his breathing labored, aware that his shirt was sticking to his back with sweat, and his face was flushed. He wasn’t looking at the Mayor anymore. His eyes were locked on the floor between his feet. “You’re right.”

The Mayor cocked his head questioningly.

“I’m not a hero. I want this for myself as much as for everyone else. But that changes nothing.”

David saw the Mayor beaming at him from the corner of his eye.

“I think you’re just what we need.”

chapter 26

David had thrown out his idea of getting the Outliers to turn on each other, at least so they could be dealt with in groups rather than as a whole. He thought maybe the Mayor would be more open to this idea than Elizabeth had been, though he felt guilty introducing the plan behind her back. When the Mayor heard the proposed strategy, he had given David a look like they shared a secret, the corners of his mouth curling up and his eyes narrowing. He had cleared his throat and rejected it, though, saying they should focus on a peaceful option; the other might work in the short term, but may be the first step onto a slippery slope. David agreed.

After the Mayor left, David went through his bag to make sure everything was there. His supplies (clothes, a knife, tarp, etc.) were all present. There had even been added a few cans of beans and other assorted food. The only thing missing, the most important thing, was his bow. The revolver he was not so concerned about; he was nearly out of ammunition anyway and he was more proficient with his bow. Once a hammer had stuck on a gun he relied on and it nearly cost him his life. The bow was just more practical. It didn’t hurt that the ammo was reusable either.

He hadn’t asked why his weapons were not being returned to him, but he assumed he knew why. They may invest a modicum of trust in him, but not to a fault. He would have nothing to fight with should the conflict boil over between the Base and their neighbors. He could try and find it, but then he risked being caught lurking around and that may dissipate the good will he had garnered thus far.

He had until morning to decide. The Mayor had instructed him to leave just before dawn. Someone would come to see him off in that gray void before the morning, and he would be off. He could sleep, or he could try to find his bow. Maybe he could get someone’s help.

Now was not the time though. He would ask her tomorrow. If he saw her, which he hoped he would. He could always sneak upstairs once the Base quieted down. He rose and went to the door, peeking his head out to see if anyone was around. His head made contact with the folds of an old leather jacket worn by a very tall, lean man with his back to the door. He turned and studied David with an annoyed grimace, and David smiled, embarrassed, and retreated back to his bunk. Perhaps he should get some shut-eye.

“Thanks for watching out for me. Slept a lot easier with you out here.” David flashed a falsely appreciative smile at the man guarding his door as he made his way out into the hallway. He had not slept much at all.

The man grunted and sidled down the hall, surely perturbed at having to spend the night guarding a closet. He had been the one to knock on the door and growl that it was time to go, but David knew the way to the front door and the man had not seemed to care if he went alone.

David watched him turning the corner, then hurried in the opposite direction to Elizabeth’s room. He knocked as quietly as he could on the door, which swung open at his touch. It was empty, the blankets on the bed ruffled, but clearly void of any sleepers. There was a thin mattress on the floor that was inhabited by another girl. Anne, he guessed. He couldn’t be sure in the dark, but it was certainly not the one he had come to find.

David shut the door carefully and tiptoed back down the stairs, cursing the old house and all the noise aroused by every shifting of his weight on the treacherous floorboards. When he reached the front door, he stepped out into the dark morning, taking a deep breath through his nose of the crisp air. It felt frosty in his nostrils. There wasn’t much time before the snow once again buried them, and perhaps broke the back of the camel that kept the two armies in relative peace. David did not have an exact time limit, but the Mayor had surmised (and he agreed) that if the Outliers were becoming so desperate and running completely out of food, they probably could not last another winter on their own, and would attack the Base rather than limp to the grave.

This gave him about two weeks. An optimistic estimate.

He took one foot off the porch and onto the ground, then the other; his boots crunching in the dirt path that led to the main gate. David strolled forward, puffing his chest out, trying to look the very epitome of courage, though there was no one around to impress. The Mayor had planned to send him over the wall opposite the Outliers’ camp. Mitch knew David was on his way to the Base last they had seen each other though, so he made his way to the front of the compound. He was alone until he reached the gate, where there were four guards, two standing on the ground, and two on a platform that allowed them to see over the wall. David looked over and saw that the wall was dotted with guards all along its length.

One of the guards heard David’s approach and whirled around. He approached, rifle in hand, the butt to his shoulder but the muzzle aimed down. When he came close enough for facial features to be recognizable, he seemed to relax. David thought it was odd that he had seemed so tense; shouldn’t he be more worried about someone coming in from the other side of the wall? Pretty jumpy, he thought.

“Hey, I’m—”David began.

“We’ve been expecting you.”

The guard turned back around and shouted something to the other guard on the ground. The man turned and propped his hunting rifle up against the wall. The guard that had spoken to David did the same and they worked together to lift what must have been the trunk of a pine tree from where it had been barring the gate. They set it down and one of them pushed the gate open. This was it.

“Thanks,” David said.

“Good luck out there,” one of the guards said. David raised a hand to him and wondered if he was the one that had led the welcoming committee that placed David in the basement. No use holding a grudge, he decided, and turned back to face the outside world. He turned as the gatekeeper said something else.

             
“In case anyone’s watching.” Rough hands spun him around and shoved him hard, sending him sprawling into the mud outside the Base.

The large wooden gate slammed behind him and he heard the shuffle as they replaced the bar. A few words escaped through the cracks of the wall. He imagined it was something along the lines of ‘I wouldn’t doubt him’ or ‘I bet he’ll do it’ though it was probably more like ‘I doubt we’ll be seeing him again.’

chapter 27

It didn’t take long to locate the Outliers. There were a few columns of smoke rising from the forest, so David headed toward the thickest one, hoping to find the main group camped there. He hoped to be recognized by more than just Mitch. He had little time to make himself known to everyone. More than anything, he prayed that they would believe his alibi.

He stumbled through the short grass, having to stop and rest occasionally, his legs not having fully recovered from the several days’ worth of cramps he had earned in the cellar. The day before had also left him sore. If only everyone could get along, he wouldn’t have to walk back and forth between camps.

It was cold enough that he was surprised not to see his breath swirl around him; he guessed it wouldn’t take much to change that. Soon the ground would harden, the frost would coat everything, and then the snow would bury them. His time here would be brief, and he would have to work fast. He wished there were birds to chirp from the trees. It was too quiet, nothing but the sound of his own footsteps over the still-healing forest floor. Looking down, he passed over a dry patch of dirt and had the feeling he was picking at someone else’s scab; he immediately avoided it and stuck to the grass as he entered the trees.

Even with his task at hand keeping him from stomaching anything more than a few sips of water that morning, being surrounded by the timeless entities that had outlived the desolation of man’s oldest societies made him feel better. They knew how to persevere, at least most of them. Those who had survived the long winter would go on to repopulate the Earth. Hopefully it wouldn’t be just the trees.

Looking warily around, David felt he had to be close to the fire. Soon there would be the remnants of those who had fled to Mother Nature’s bosom. Some from Canada, Mitch had said. David may have found the survivors he thought were all dead, but this had to be it. This was really it.

It was harder to see the smoke now that he was in the forest, but he knew he was headed the right direction. Soon, very soon—

“Hey!”

David cringed. It had begun. No turning back now.

He threw his hands up in the air, turning to face the voice that assailed him.

“Who are you, and what are you doing out here?” The voice belonged to a burly man covered in scars. A bruiser. How lucky.

“My name’s David, I came to
—”

“You came from the Base, didn’t you?” he yelled, now close enough there was no need to shout, but he used his outside voice nonetheless. “Came to spy on us?” His face was contorted with rage and David braced himself for a blow as the man neared. He kept his hands up in the air, not wanting to give the man any extra reason to strike him. To his surprise, the man stopped two feet in front of him, close enough to assault him, but he did so with nothing more than his rancid breath propelled by his haggard breathing.

“No, I came to—”

“To bargain?” he shouted, snorting with contempt. “We’ve had enough of your offers. We’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m not from the Base,” David finally managed. “I’m—”

“Not from the Base? You came straight from that direction.”

David breathed a sigh of frustration, knowing now was not the time to lose his temper.

“I just came back from trying to get in there. I heard about it a while ago, and I wasn’t going to come, thought it sounded too good to be true, but
—”

“They kicked you out, huh? ‘Just can’t take on anyone else. At max capacity.’ Something like that?” The muscled Outlier was smiling now. Despite his man-handling of the conversation, it had ended up where David had hoped.

“Yeah,” he said, relieved. “Exactly. Though not before I got to spend a few nights in the cellar.” David had decided to add this to his story, hoping he could use the Base as a common enemy to start with, though he hoped it wouldn’t go too far.

“Those bastards,” the man cursed. “That’s low. Even for them.” He curled one hand into a fist and pounded it against his other palm. Despite the brisk morning air, he was clad in a sleeveless black shirt, the hair and numerous scars on his bare arms out for all to admire. His muscles were visible as well, under all that, and they were menacing.

“I understand though. They said they had to have a meeting to see if they could take someone else in, and—”

“Oh, yeah, right! If they had any ‘room,’ they know just where to find a few starving souls. Don’t even send us food anymore. We’ve done our best, but…” He trailed off, seeming to be only talking to himself. Then he swung his attention back to David.

“You must be hungry. We haven’t much, but I’m sure we could rustle up a little something for a fellow survivor.” He turned away and marched back the direction he had come from. David assumed he was meant to follow, and trailed after him.

As they went, David was shocked by the lack of cans and general garbage that was typical of most survivors. Tidiness was a thing of the past, and though he himself had started bringing it back into style at his cabin, he had done so only after the death of the land and its inhabitants had left him with nothing to occupy his time. Perhaps they were in the same boat.

After a minute David noticed a few large, dark mounds against the botanical background. He wondered what these were, figuring they must be tents or some other form of shelter. He was shocked to see that they were, upon closer inspection, cabins! Not so unlike his, though perhaps a little more regular in shape. They must have come to perfect the structure with practice, as there were at least ten of them clustered in a rough circle, with a few tents interspersed between them. He hadn’t been the only one to see the advantages of a permanent housing situation, and they must have realized they would be out here for the long haul and dug in their roots. So far, nothing had been as expected. Maybe that was a good thing.

“Hey, Mort!” someone shouted cheerfully.

The burly man raised a hand in greeting, and David saw a gruff smile ruffle his graying beard when he turned his head.

“Hey, Ron! How’s the project coming?”

“It’s coming, I guess. Who’d you find out there?”

“A little lost sheep,” he shot back. David wondered if he should say something for himself; he kept silent instead.

“He’s got some meat on his bones. Make a good meal.”

The large man, Mort, chuckled, as did Ron, but said nothing in reply. They pushed on, past the first cabin, with its rough log walls and a roof that seemed to be made mostly of pine boughs and needles. There was a square carved out of the side, a window (clever, David thought), though he could see nothing but darkness through the open shutters. These were not the chaotic marauders he had imagined.

They emerged into a cleared area in the middle of the circle of buildings. There was a large fire pit, where a roaring fire blazed, fed a constant diet of nature’s best logs by a young boy of maybe fifteen years. The ground was covered in pine needles but little else, save for a menagerie of obviously home-made chairs and a few cooking utensils by the fire.

A tall man rose from his seat by the boy, where he had been sitting with his hands extended toward the heat, and strutted over in Mort’s direction when he heard the approaching footsteps. The short, black facial hair and those large, intelligent eyes gave away his identity.

“Mitch?” David said, acting surprised, though he had expected to see him here.

“David? How’d you come across my old friend, Mort?” David was glad that Mitch didn’t acknowledge their meeting a few days past.

“Found him wandering the woods, coming back from the Base. Rejected, as usual,” Mort explained, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the man in his shadow. “You know him?”

“Yeah, me and David go way back,” he said with a warm smile that spread from ear-to-ear, the disarming weapon that had been a staple of his charm, his greatest tool of survival.

“Huh.” Mort tossed a look of appraisal over David. “I was bringing him to you, figuring he might be a spy or something.” David looked at him, slightly aghast. He had to be more careful with who he trusted. Maybe Mort had a trick or two up his own sleeve.

“No, David’s no threat to us,” he said, laughing. He reached out to embrace his old friend. He broke away and held David at arm’s length. “In fact, he may be a real asset. With that bow of his—“ He paused and looked to either side of David. He shot David a concerned, questioning look.

“They didn’t let me leave with it, the Base,” he explained, shrugging. “I didn’t think they were going to let me leave at all.” He was grateful that the paranoid Mayor had not returned his cherished weapon. This made his story so much easier to sell.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be a great help nonetheless.”

A question was blossoming in David’s mind. Mort was bringing David to Mitch…? “So, are you the leader here or something?” he spat out.

Mitch looked abashed and grinned at the ground. “Someone has to be in charge, I suppose. I speak for us. The ‘Outliers,’ as they call us. We make all our decisions as a whole, though.” Mitch’s rise to the top was no real surprise. There was a reason he had always been the one to head into camps while David watched from afar.

“Are you hungry, old buddy? I’ve got a few little treats back at my place.”

“I could go for a little breakfast.” David followed Mitch to a cabin on the far side of the circle, exaggerating a limp. Mort disappeared behind a cabin in the opposite direction, and David was relieved to be alone with Mitch. There was something in the look he had given David, something David could not quite put his finger on. There was concern, but something else as well. Surprise? That was understandable, given David’s own feigned shock at their meeting. Suspicion? Maybe, but why? It was probably all in his head.

They came to the cabin and Mitch held out an arm to usher David in. He entered, and found the cabin to be much like his own. There were shelves on one wall, dotted with a few cans and jars, though most of what littered the uneven planks were what looked like dried roots and tubers, some woven bowls of berries, and even a few bits of bark. There was a pile of boughs in the corner covered with a couple of thin blankets, which served as a bed. The floor was all dirt and there was a pile of hiking packs along one wall, along with a few things like tarps and what must be tents, fishing poles, and a line of boots.

“Did you just copy my cabin?” David joked.

“Honestly, I did use yours as a sort of template,” Mitch admitted. David had built it before he and Mitch had become so completely estranged, and Mitch must have committed it pretty well to memory, though David had never come across anything like his own home back in their valley. “I was working on building my own back home, before I caught wind of this place. You know most of these people were living in teepees? Their tent stakes and poles hadn’t lasted too long, obviously, and a bunch of them had just used the tent canvas and their tarps to make them? I guess it’s not a bad idea, they can be moved around.” Mitch took a seat on a little wooden stool at the foot of the bad, inviting David to a similar one next to it. David leaned his pack up against the wall and accepted.

Mitch sighed and stared at David for a minute before speaking again. “Didn’t go too well over there, huh?”

“Not exactly,” David responded, trying to sound embarrassed.

“I told you.” Mitch shook his head. “You never did listen to me, though, did you?”

“I had to know for myself. Go off on my own, you know?” There was a hardness to his voice. Mitch picked up the hint.

“Fair enough, fair enough. They kept your bow though? That’s harsh. I wouldn’t have expected that of them. I’m surprised they didn’t just tell you to get lost. What took you so long? I was expecting to see you again in a couple hours.”

“They let me in and gave me something to eat,” David began, reciting the answer he had been rehearsing all morning. “They were nice enough, and seemed like they didn’t want to send me out, but in the end I guess they just couldn’t let me in.”

“They don’t let anyone in, David,” Mitch said gravely. “Otherwise we’d have more to eat than roots and bark.” His voice turned dark and resentful as he rose to grab a handful of withered, leathery plants off one of the shelves. “It’s perfectly edible,” he explained as he handed one to David, “doesn’t taste great, but it’ll fill you up. One of the guys here used to work in a greenhouse, and that saved our asses. Wouldn’t have made it this long without all the roots and bark he showed us we could eat, though we’ve had to really spread out to find enough. We’ve practically run out of everything else.”

“Sounds rough.” David tried to say it with as much sympathy as he could muster. “I finished off the last of what I had on the way over here; thought I’d see if what you tried telling me was really worth going after. I didn’t expect to find anything, but I wasn’t about to die lying down.” The image of the sky the morning he had literally laid down to die came back to him, and the supreme irony of what he was saying almost forced a macabre smile to his lips.

“You never did give in,” Mitch said. “You knew we couldn’t go on taking from others forever, you were the one that wanted to try that garden. I’m guessing it didn’t work out too well?”