The relative security of fences has
bred complacency which has in turn bred restlessness. Survival has
been trivialized by surviving, while trivial desires have been
tempered by unfulfilled passions. Dave surveys the yard with waning
vigilance, uneasy in his knowledge that survival is not enough
anymore. This is not the same group that cleared this yard and sowed
these fields, for if it had been they would have responded
differently to the distant report of gunfire.
The unmistakable report of a single
shot in the distance lingers in the air, ominously. Dave recognizes
it as a large caliber round fired from a rifle, faint in the distance
but still lingering in his ear. His attention immediately goes to his
son Benji who is standing next to Billy in the yard. They both stare
uneasily in the direction of the origin of the sound, as does Karen
who now stands with dirty knees in the field where she had been
tending the crops. Marci and Jae Kyu appear out of a doorway,
anxiously trying to assess the situation as Dave quickly inventories
the group in his head.
“Is everyone ok?” pleads Dave, not
waiting for an answer that he already knows as he ascends the nearest
tower in an effort to get eyes on the origin of the gun shot. He can
see no evidence of a threat from his vantage point. Nobody has been
injured by the shot, and in fact the gunfire doesn't appear to have
been directed at the prison at all. So who had been firing a weapon
in such close proximity to their outpost, and why? Even a threat not
directed at the group is a threat to the group, and any threat to the
group needs to be evaluated, so Dave descends into the yard as
quickly as he had ascended and begins to gather a scouting party.
“Billy, Jae Kyu, let's go.”
As the group gathers in the yard Marci
informs them that she is going with them and Dave nods his approval.
He wants to argue, but he knows it's useless. Benji looks expectantly
at his father, but Dave insists that he needs him to stay with his
infant sister. Benji wants to argue, but he knows it's useless.
“It sounded like it came from the
highway” surmises Billy, “probably a half mile away. Did you see
anything from the tower?”
“No, but it did sound like it came
from the highway” agrees Dave. “We'll go on foot. The noise
probably stirred the walkers, so stay sharp but avoid using guns. We
don't want to alert whoever fired that rifle to our presence.”
The team stays off the road behind the
tree line as they move up the highway until they spot a figure with
his back to them in the middle of the road, bulky under a dark hooded
robe. He is hunched over, diligently dressing a large buck that had
apparently been the target of the rifle fire under investigation. The
robed figure seems unaware of their presence until Dave sights in on
him with his scope.
“If you will do us the courtesy of
lowering your rifle, we will reciprocate in kind” comes the voice
from under the hood, calmly, without any other acknowledgement of the
group's presence as the shadowy figure continues to skillfully run
his sharp knife under the buckskin.
Startled and confused, Dave lowers his
rifle, and addressing the back of the mysterious figure, questions
“we?”
“You assumed I was alone? Thank you
for lowering your rifle. You have nothing to fear from us.”
“Who are you?” Dave's voice was
reticent.
“Some might call us hunters, killers,
scavengers... survivors... Most people who know us call us friends.
We are all of these. Sometimes we are a shadow in the night.
Sometimes we are a beacon of light. We are exactly what we need to
be, no more, no less. Right now, we are lucky to have more food than
we can eat, and we are inclined to share this bounty with the four of
you if you would put away your weapons and share our table in peace.”
The words emanate from under the hood that never faces Dave or his
group.
By now, Dave knows that the cryptic
robed figure is indeed not alone. He had known when Dave had raised
his weapon as well as when he lowered it and how many were in the
group without ever laying eyes on them and without ever faltering in
his task of undressing the deer. His voice was warm, his words were
friendly and his actions were unnaturally calm, even at gunpoint.
Still, Dave does not know this man's intentions toward his people,
whose safety depends on his decisions. So, Dave is cautious.
Altruism, if it had ever existed at all, had surely died with
civilization, yet here he was, faced with a mysterious man who
offered good will with no apparent agenda. So Dave doesn't respond.
He looks to his own companions, but sees in their face the same
confusion and distrust that he feels in his own heart. So, still, he
doesn't respond.
The robed figure continues silently
working with the knife until the buckskin is completely free of the
beast's flesh before he turns to face Dave, his gloved hand lowering
his hood to reveal a ballistic helmet with goggles and a black
ballistic mask decorated with a blacker peace sign, and as he draws
aside his robe to sheathe his knife Dave recognizes the ballistic
armor he wears as dragon skin, which had only been available to elite
military forces before civilization fell. This man is no ordinary
survivor, and he most certainly has an agenda, although Dave has no
idea what it might be.
“You still question our intentions?
If we harbored ill-intent towards you, don't you think that you would
know by now? I am Peace.” Peace approaches Dave, hand extended in
friendship. “You wish to know our agenda?”
Dave meets Peace cautiously to accept
his hand. “I am Dave. What is your business here? Do you have
business with us?”
“You found us, Dave, we didn't find
you. Shouldn't I be asking you that question?”
“We heard the gunshot. We came to see
if there was a threat.”
“And?”
“You tell me.”
“We are no threat to you so long as
you give us no reason to be. Now, we have to set up camp and
establish a perimeter, so if you would like to join us for dinner you
are welcome, but we can't stay in the middle of this road, so what
will it be?” With the low growl of a diesel engine, a matte black
armored Humvee emerges from the woods and approaches. As the vehicle
gathers speed a flag unfurls, blue, emblazoned with a golden phoenix.
“We have a safe outpost nearby”
offers Dave, “why don't you follow us there.”
“We appreciate your hospitable offer,
but we can't do that for obvious security reasons. As you are
cautious, so are we. How many are at this outpost of yours?”
“There are nine of us in all.”
“Go ahead and gather your people if
you like and meet us at the parking lot about eight-tenths of a mile
South of our position. We will go ahead and set up camp there. Don't
attempt to enter the perimeter. We will have to let you in.” Peace
signals the driver, who remains in the vehicle while another man,
larger than Peace but similarly robed, emerges from the back of the
Humvee to help Peace lift the deer carcass and hide onto the hood of
the Humvee and strap it down before they both get into the vehicle
and head south.
***
No comments:
Post a Comment