Marching As to War: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel (4 page)

“Sure. I’ve known Church
of God people.”

“Now, we don’t hold with handling snakes, drinking poison,
or any of that ‘signs’ foolishness.”

I nodded, but I was thinking,
Handling
snakes might be safer than what you’re trying to do.

“What about you?” she said, smiling.
“I take you for a pretty starchy Baptist.”

I laughed and told her she was right. My family had been
Baptists of one sort or another for generations. Then I started talking about
my family and our farm, though I didn’t mention Maggie. And for a while, we
were just two people passing the time. Then I asked about her messages from
God. I just couldn’t help but be curious.

“Do you want to know?
For real?”

“Tell me.”

She drew a long breath as if gathering her strength.
“Sometimes the message is a feeling that blows through me. It’s like a strong
wind in the trees. Everything in me just bends to it. Sometimes, it’s words,
just a few simple words. I hear them inside, but it’s not like thinking. It’s
not like a voice. The words are just there.”

I said nothing.

“Sometimes, I pray, and God puts a picture in my heart. At
first, I may not know what it means. But if I keep holding it in my heart, I
understand. Sometimes it’s a dream. I knew when David Winslow died. God gave a
dream. Clear as anything. I didn’t tell anyone about it, but when we heard he’d
died, I knew God had a purpose for me.”

I still said nothing.

“Ever since, God has been showing me through the Spirit the
dangers our people face. And He has showed me what I must do.”

“You really think Winslow will talk with you?”

“If it’s God’s will, it will happen. And it is God’s will.”

“But that Lieutenant Gordon won’t give you the time of day.
How are you going to get to Winslow?”

“Don’t know. If God wants it, He will make a way. I just
have to be ready.”

“And God wants this war? I mean, He wants us to fight the
Government?”

Jane looked at me and said. “You’ve killed?”

“Yeah,” I said. Her look made me feel uncomfortable. And I
remembered the feel of the blue-eyed man’s throat in my hands.

“Why?”

“They were thieves and raiders. It was my duty.”

“I’m glad you did your duty. But if you can kill for an
earthly reason, why not kill for a heavenly reason, for God?”

Riley stumbled into the light of our fire and sat down. From
the smell of him, I guessed he and his friend had shared some homebrewed
whiskey.

When I turned back to Jane, she was already behind the
blanket in her lean-to.

Soon Riley lay down, and I helped him get under his
blankets. Before long, he was snoring softly as he always did. He never had
trouble going to sleep. A little whiskey only made it easier. I built up our
fire a little and got under my blanket. I didn’t go to sleep right away.
Instead, I watched the fire burn and thought about what Jane had said, “Why not
kill for God?”

Jane
, I thought,
what if you’re wrong about what God wants?

And then I
thought,
What if she’s right?

I slammed the blue-eyed man’s head against the rock. He was
trying to rip my hands from his throat. But then his hands turned weak and fell
away. I could barely breathe from the effort as I hit his head on the rock.
Then I heard that wet cracking sound.

I opened my eyes and saw the sky. Dawn. I sat up, breathing
hard, shaking. Then I realized Jane was sitting outside her lean-to, watching
me. I didn’t want her to see me like this.

She said something, but I didn’t understand.

“What?” I said.

“A dream?”

“Yeah.”

“Bad?”

“Yeah, bad.”

I had the feeling she wanted me to tell her about the dream.
Some folks say it helps to talk, but I wouldn’t do it. Just couldn’t.
Especially not with her.
I got up, grabbed my rifle, and walked
away.

I wanted to keep clear of Jane, of everybody, for a while.
As soon as the sun got up, she would go to Gordon again and demand to see
Charles Winslow. Riley would go with her. They didn’t need me. So I wandered
around the camp. I thought some about things Jane had said last night, but
mostly I just wanted to be alone.

All that stopped when a man stepped in front of me. He was
filthy, and his nose was large and misshapen, like it had been broken a few
times. “Hey,” he said, “ain’t you one of them what brought in that girl?”

Every camp, like every little town, has its bully. I was
just today’s sport for this one. But I wouldn’t play.

“You’re crowding me,” I said.

“How come she’s wearing britches and all?” the man said.
“Something wrong with her?”

“None of your concern.”

“What’s she doing here?”

“Out of my way.”
I said each word
slow.

He stepped aside and let me pass. Then he said, “Hey, how
much she
charge
for a quick fuck?”

I turned and hit him with the stock of my rifle. He landed
on the ground with blood all over his right ear. I was about to start working
him over with my boots when the some of the other men around grabbed me and
pulled me back. I lost my rifle and hat as I struggled. By the time, the man I
had hit was back on his feet, a big man was between us, shouting, “Stop it!”

Everyone around me stopped, but I was still trying to get
loose. The big man put one hand on my chest and looked me in the eye. He said,
“You want to fight me, boy?”

I looked up at him. He was half a head taller than me and
wore the insignia of a squad leader. I shook my head and stood still.

He looked at me a moment longer and said, “Let him go.” The
men were slow to obey, and I wrenched my arms free. After straightening my
coat, I picked up my hat and rifle, and set off as slow as I could. I didn’t
look back as I went down the hill.

When I got to Jane and Riley, still waiting for Gordon, both
looked at me.

“Hey,” Riley said.

“Hey,” I said.

“Where you been?”

“Round about.”

“Anything wrong?”

I just shook my head. I would tell him later. Jane looked at
me a moment longer and then turned back to watch for Gordon. I sat. It would
take me a while to settle down. I had been in enough fights to know once you
got your blood up it was hard to stop, and harder to get over it. The thing
that bothered me most is why I even hit that man. I made him move aside. Then I
hit him because he’d said something about Jane. I’d given him a way to get
under my skin.

I was thinking about my stupidity when a man walked up and
said to Jane, “There’s some folks here for you. Down at the east gate.”

“For me?
What folks?” Jane said.

“Don’t know. They just ask for, ‘the girl who heals.’
That make
any sense to you?”

Jane said she would come.

We went out through the front gate to a field at the eastern
side the camp. Maybe a dozen people stood, waiting. When they saw Jane coming,
they rushed forward, surrounding her, all talking at once.

Riley and I looked at each other and shrugged. We asked one
man at the edge of the crowd why he was here. He said he had heard Jane had
healed a little girl.

Riley said, “This is getting right interesting.”

“Look,” I said and nodded toward the far side of the field,
where the trail came out of the woods. A woman, almost staggering, carried a
child on her back. Just behind her, two men bore a skinny little boy on a
pallet. A woman walked next to the boy, talking to him, pointing across the
field to Jane.

“Damn, more of ‘
em
,” Riley said.
“What do we do now?”

I shrugged and said, “Don’t know.”

But Jane knew. She handed her rifle to me and led everyone
over to one edge of the field where the people could rest in the shade. Growing
up, I had seen a fair number of traveling preachers and even a few who claimed
to do healings. All of them put on a big show of standing up and, well,
preaching at folks. I had always treated such preachers as free entertainment.

Maybe I should have known better by then, but I expected
Jane to put on a show, to start preaching about her messages from God and all
that. But she didn’t. Instead, she just had a little private time with folks.
Sometimes it was a whole family carrying a sick child, or one of their old
folks, to see Jane. Sometimes it was just a mother or a father with a baby. She
just visited with them, listened to each and every one of them. She would pray
and lay hands upon the sick and the hurt. You could hear other folks praying
along with her. A few had their arms lifted up and were speaking in tongues. Other
folks who had been with Jane, or were still waiting, took to singing the old
hymns everyone knew.

Riley and I stayed busy helping newcomers get settled. And
they kept coming. Soon we had fifty people in the crowd. Men from the camp were
drifting down to watch the strange doings. After two hours or so, I saw
Lieutenant Gordon and another officer, a thin gray-haired man, coming toward
us.

Gordon waved me over. “What’s going on here?” He sounded
angry.

I explained about the healing at the Baker place, and I
guessed that the story had spread.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Didn’t seem important, Sir. We didn’t know these people
would come here.”

“They have to go. Move them.
Now.”

“No, Lieutenant,” the other officer said. “We don’t treat
our people like livestock.” He called to one of the men on guard duty, “Bring
down some food and water for these folks.
Whatever you can
find.
Anyone gives you trouble, tell them Colonel Campbell sent you.” He
said to Gordon, “You can go. I’ll see to this.”

Gordon looked angry, but he said, “Yes, Sir.”

I watched him walk away.
Good
riddance
, I thought.

The Colonel took a step toward me and said, “Tell me about
the girl.”

I told him what Jane had said about her mission from God,
fighting the Government, what had happened at the Baker place, how Gordon had
treated her, everything. He listened and looked at the crowd around Jane. From
his questions, I could tell he already knew some things, likely from the sealed
letter I had brought. But he wanted to hear it all from me.

When I was done, he said, “You believe her?”

“Sir, I don’t know what to believe. But she believes.”

“That might be enough. I’d like to talk with her.”

I led him down to Jane, who stood up when she saw him
coming, and shook hands with him as any man would have done. They walked off a
little way together. I watched as they spoke, but couldn’t hear what was said.
Each looked directly at the other. Neither smiled, but each nodded as the other
spoke. He gave a final nod and walked away.

He came to me and said, “If she needs anything, let me know.
I’m Colonel Campbell, General Winslow’s Chief of Staff.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said, and I watched him head back into camp.

Riley came up.
“What happened?”

“Not sure,” I said, “but I think Jane just found her first
friend up on the hill.”

“About damn time,” he said.

People kept arriving in twos and threes all through the
afternoon. When Jane left them, perhaps seventy people were camped for the
night in the field. As we walked to our campsite, I could tell she was worn
out. So I didn’t bother to ask what Campbell
had said to her. She went right into her lean-to without saying goodnight.

Riley and I got a fire going and talked quietly so as not to
disturb Jane.

“So,” Riley said, “
whatcha
think?”

“Don’t know.”

“Still think she’s crazy?”

“Don’t know.”

“Don’t know?
After what we saw today?
You still don’t know?”

“That’s right. I still don’t know. Yeah, she took good care
of these folks, but it’s got nothing to do with a war with the Government, now
does it?”

“Come on. If Jane hadn’t healed that little girl, none of
them would be here. We’d still be waiting on that Lieutenant Gordon.”

“So you reckon she can do miracles?” I said.

“Yes, I reckon she can.”

“You ain’t gone Jesusy on me, have you?”

“No, I ain’t gone Jesusy. But partner, comes a time when you
shit or get off the pot.”

I felt pulled toward what Riley wanted me to say, but
something in me just wouldn’t do it. I said, “Well, I don’t know.”

He stood up, snatched his rifle, and walked off into the
darkness. After a while, I got my bedroll and lay down for the night. But, of
course, I didn’t go to sleep for a long time. I lay thinking, fighting the
things Riley had said.

The dream of the blue-eyed man started the way it always
did. We fought until I had him down. While he struggled to get free, I tried to
slam his head against the rock. And then everything changed. The blue-eye man
looked up at me and spoke, even though my hands squeezed his throat. He said, “Let
me go.” His voice was calm.

“No!” I said.

“Let me go.”

“No!” I tried to slam his head against the rock. But I
couldn’t move him. I felt weak.

“Let me go.”

I cried out, terrified of what he would do to me. Yet part
of was glad to be done, glad to die. Maybe there would be some peace in it. So
I let go of his throat, ready to take whatever came next.

Then I was awake, lying in the twisted blankets of my
bedroll. It was dawn.

I jumped a little when Jane spoke, just a few feet away.

“He’s gone,” she said.

She couldn’t know about the blue-eyed man. I had never told
anyone. But somehow, she did. I turned and looked at her, squatting next to the
ashes of our fire, holding her rifle with both hands. My mouth was very dry.

“You let him go,” she said.

“What’s it mean?” My voice was shaky.

I wanted to know what she was going to say. But I also
wanted to run from her, from my bad dreams, from the militia, from my family
and Maggie, from the future itself. Yet she held me.

“It means you’re free,” she said.
“If you
want to be.”
She stood up and walked away, disappearing into the trees.
Shivering, I sat up and watched her go. Then I wiped my tears away with the
sleeve of my coat.

That morning, when Jane got to the field in front of the
camp, at least a hundred people were waiting for her, with more arriving all
day. Riley and I worked as before, settling the newcomers and making sure the
water and food kept coming. Several times, I saw Campbell
watching from a distance, but he didn’t come down to speak to Jane.

She listened to folks and prayed, laid hands upon the sick
and suffering, but there were no sudden healings, no miracles. If those folks
were disappointed, I didn’t see it. They prayed and sang, shared the food and
water, and watched Jane with eyes full of hope.

During a quiet stretch in the afternoon, when no new folks
had shown up for a while, I found Riley standing back from the crowd. I walked
over slow and stood next to him. For a little time, we were quiet, just
watching Jane. It was up to me to speak first, and I knew it.

“Thought about what you were saying last night.”

“Yeah.”

“About shitting or getting off the pot.”

“I recall.”

“Well . . . I’m shitting.”

Riley laughed. “Damn, but don’t you just have a way with
words.
Must be all that education you got.”

Grinning, I didn’t say anything. Riley was quiet too. We
stood there for a while watching Jane and the crowd. It was nice, this feeling
of being in this together--whatever this was.

It was close to sunset when we were finished for the day.
Jane was working her way through the crowd toward the camp, when a man walked
up with a folded piece of paper. He handed it to me and said, “It’s for the
girl. Urgent.”

I took the message to Jane.

She was at the edge of the crowd when I reached her. She
took the paper, unfolded it, and looked at it for a long moment.

“I can’t read,” she said.

I took it and read aloud. “General Winslow wishes to meet
you. Please come to his residence as soon as possible.”

She took the message from me and looked at it again. She
whispered a few words I couldn’t hear. Then she turned back to the crowd and
held the paper up in the air. “Let us praise God for the mountains He moves
when we have faith,” she shouted. “Charles Winslow, the leader of our people,
will meet with me. I’m sorry. I’ll not be with you again, for now God has other
work for me. Go home and tell everyone that a new day has dawned. Please keep
me, our people, and our leader in your prayers. In God’s name, we will
prevail.”

The crowd burst with excited talk and shouts. Those closest
to Jane hugged her. Others hugged whoever was standing close by. I heard
snatches of shouted prayers. It was that time of day, when for a few moments,
the light of the setting sun becomes golden. I looked at the joyful faces, the
faces that had made the important men on the hill pay attention to this
unimportant girl. The moment was golden.