Wasteland

America’s Demise

By

Jacqueline Druga

Wasteland

America’s Demise

By Jacqueline Druga

Copyright 2011 by Jacqueline Druga.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover image provided by: prozac1 / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Thanks to Liz for her inspiration

Ann, you rock, that’s all I can say. Thanks for taking this one on and being eagle eyes for me.

1.  The Home Front

“Daddy, I’m thirsty.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

Falcon pulled the sheet up to the chest of his eight year old son. It wasn’t cold. In fact, it was very hot but he knew sometimes a sheet could make things seem cooler.

His son Josh was thin and small for his age which wasn’t unusual. Falcon brought his fingers to his son’s cheek. It was dry and the skin looked pale. He ran his rough fingers over Josh’s lips. Then he reached over to his daughter Lilly, sound asleep in the same bed. Her skin didn’t feel dry nor did she look pale. Falcon then knew. “When did you have a drink last?” he asked Josh.

“Two hours ago, after dinner. I saved my drink, remember?”

Falcon nodded with disbelief. “Really? When? When was the last time you had a drink?”

“This morning.”

“Don’t make me wake your sister and ask.”

“She’s six. She lies,” Josh said defensively.

“She tattles.” Falcon said. “Now tell me. When?”

Josh took a deep breath.

“Aw, Josh. Did you give your water to that dog again?”

“Daddy, his tongue was …”

“Josh, Baby, you know the rules.”

Josh nodded.

“No wonder you’re thirsty.” Falcon lifted the glass from the night stand and then the canteen which he kept like a gun on a belt around his waist. He filled the glass a third of a way.

Josh scooted up and took the glass. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. Drink.” Falcon watched the child savor each sip of water until he had finished the glass, allowing the last drop to dribble on his dry lips. The boy bit his bottom lip bringing in that final bit of water. “Good?”

“Thank you.”

“Get some sleep. I love you.”

“I love you too.

Falcon placed his lips to his son’s forehead. He left them there for a moment as he closed his eyes and said a silent prayer, a prayer of gratefulness that God had given him another day with his children. Whether that was truly a blessing for them, Falcon didn’t know. But it was for Falcon. Without Josh and Lilly, Falcon would literally die, because he would take his own life. He had nothing else.

He smoothed out the sheet, then stood and blew out the candle on the night stand next to Josh. The room was lit by the extremely bright moon. Falcon paused by the window, staring out, listening to Josh’s breaths. The boy was always fast to fall asleep but hard to get into bed. He loved to listen to the child breathe before he fell asleep. Normal breaths and then the breathing turned deep.

It was hot, extremely hot, and Falcon wanted nothing more than to open a window but he couldn’t chance a dust storm. They blew in without warning and were devastating.

The dust storms were like a blow dryer, blasting the dry dirt everywhere. It would carry in through the windows and Falcon couldn’t chance the children breathing it in.

The moon was exceptionally bright. Falcon thought back for a moment to when he was Josh’s age, when the world was normal, busy, buzzing and alive.

The moon back then wasn’t anywhere nearly as big or bright. Once in a while it would look huge in the sky, but it really wasn’t. Now, it was. It was always big. Instead of just a spot of white in the sky, it was like a planet that hovered nearby. At least that was how it looked. No one really was around to explain it, to explain if the moon was closer or if it was the change in the atmosphere causing an illusion.

Often Falcon commented about the ‘baby’ moon of the past.

Josh loved hearing tales of the past. Lilly was still too young to care about the story contents.

Falcon hated telling the tales, but did so for Josh because the boy asked constantly, every day, to hear the same stories. It frustrated Falcon. Life was better in the past; it was easier.

How do you tell a child he or she lives in a dying world? Falcon manipulated the stories, telling Josh it was better, when it wasn’t. One day when the child was older, Falcon would tell him the truth.

That is, if he lived.

Falcon was in his thirties, but he was considered old. An older body had a hard time tolerating the little food and the little bit of water, if there was any. The elderly, like children, were few and far between. They didn’t last.

If someone lived to see sixty they were granted preservation.

Or so Falcon heard.

There was only one preservation camp and it was out west. It was run by the western government. But again, it was only what Falcon had heard.

Supposedly it was a clean, cool, environment with water and food, where the elderly are taken care of but made to work. The work though wasn’t manual, it was memory based.

They wrote down history— everything they could remember about the past.

Journals composed for future generations to read.

If there were any future generations.

Falcon remembered a time when sixty wasn’t old. When people still worked at sixty and lived full lives, when children ran around, filling schools, playing in the streets and parks.

Parks.

Josh and Lilly would never know a park.

They’d never know a lot of things. They could see a television, a computer and a phone, but they didn’t work.

There was no power.

All of that had been gone since Josh was two years old and Lilly an infant.

Slowly, it went. It wasn’t as if it happened over night. It happened at the end of the Twenty Year War. Although the war was actually lasted twenty-four years, it was easier to call it the Twenty Year War.

It was a world war like no other before it.

Falcon fought fourteen of those years. In fact, he got the name ‘Falcon’ in the service. It wasn’t his real name. Falcon was given to him because he was quiet and quick.

He joined the military at sixteen and served as a soldier in one capacity or another until the war was declared officially over.

There were no winners in the war.

Everyone, everywhere, in every country … was a loser.

For the last two years of the war Falcon worked as a soldier in the ration centers of Kentucky three miles from his farm.

His wife’s farm, actually. One she inherited from her family.

It had its own well water. It was secure and it had survived the war.

Falcon always said it survived because his wife Stacy and her family were generous. The land was blessed by God because they shared and helped others.

When Stacy died in the new plague, Lilly was just born and Josh was only two. Falcon was called home to take care of his kids while still continuing to serve his country.

It was a good thing to be home at that point. Things had started to shut down and die.

But the war held on despite the lack of water and the natural obstacles. It kept going when the power diminished and gasoline was scarce.

It went on until there wasn’t a drop of gasoline to power a plane or tank.

Soldiers never made it home.

Of course, most American soldiers had never left their country.

America was the front lines.

Falcon thought about getting on one of the boats that headed east to Europe. Boats of hope they were called, because it was said that Europe still had power and water.

That they weren’t hit by the elements like America was.

But nobody knew for sure.

There was no way to communicate except by word of mouth.

Europe was Utopia.

Falcon didn’t know if he had enough to barter passage. Possibly he did, but did he want to waste it on a pipe dream?

It was one of the many things that stayed on his mind.

But for that moment, right there, that night, it was time to get back to his tasks. He had lingered in thought long enough by his children’s bed. Falcon had to get to work.

He had only a little left to do and that would finish off the last of the crops. Then it was time to move on, to leave for a while. A simple task that in the old days would take a day at most could now take over a week.

Then they would return home, hopefully.

But the journey would begin, without a doubt, the next day.

It had to.

<><><><>

His hands were rough and dry, his knuckles disfigured at the joints from early bouts of arthritis. Falcon’s hands looked like that of a man much older, in fact, he recalled seeing similar hands. They belonged to a grandfather figure he had when he was a boy.

In fact, many times when Josh held his hand, he saw his own hand in the old man’s.

That was many years ago.

Falcon grabbed a beer from storage. It was old and warm and wasn’t the best thing to drink, but he was thirsty and he gave had given his share of water to Josh.

He supposed he could take from the barter box, but that wasn’t fair to Josh or Lilly. The beer would work. He just hoped it didn’t make him sick.

After a few moments of working his hands, Falcon began the task of rolling cigarettes. Drying out the tobacco was easy. Nature did that for him with the heat and the fact that it hadn’t rained in over a year. It was the last of the crop and cigarettes were almost as good as the tiny bottles of hand sanitizer and water Falcon had. They were three of the priceless items.

The liquid sanitizer was funny to Falcon. He started collecting the bottles years before when he joined the service and they were handed to him regularly, like candy.

He saved them. He actually had an entire duffle bag filled with the two inch bottles when he met Stacy.

He was almost nineteen when they met. She was a field nurse and he had never heard the name Stacy before.

Stacy was beautiful, rough but with an air of delicate to her. She told him that Stacy was her mother’s name and she took it when her mother died in the war earlier on.

She had died New York.

An immediate connection ensued because that was where Falcon’s father died as well.

At the point when they had met, Falcon had been serving for three years. Still young, but far beyond ‘wet behind the ears,’ he had already seen battle after battle.

He was shot in the arm and was sent for medical attention.

Stacy removed the bullet.

That was the beginning of their story.

He entrusted her with the bag of sanitizer along with other items issued by the army. Items the older soldiers laughed about because years earlier they weren’t standard field issue.

The bag contained soap, sanitizer and even little bottles of booze.

It became a joke to Falcon and Stacy that they’d save what they could of these items until the war was over.

Save them because neither of them ever imaged the war would span their entire marriage.

Bag one, year one, bag two, year two and so forth. Each bag went into the barn.

No one expected the war to rage that long.

The barn was filled with bags.

There was even a point, following the nuclear exchange, when Falcon was between tours, that there was a temporary cease fire.

Everyone believed the limited nuclear exchange was the end. That had to be it. But despite the small cold front that caused temperatures around the globe to plummet, the war continued.

The cold front.

How many years before was that?

Stacy wasn’t even pregnant, and she was canning things left and right in case the farm didn’t survive.

It did, thankfully. And those jars of food saved a lot of people.

She canned so much; Falcon still had a few things in storage.

They weren’t for bartering.

They were for survival. Only under extreme circumstances would he barter those.

His fingers ached.

How many cigarettes did he roll while thinking of the wife he lost? The only woman he had loved.

It was late. Between the cigarettes, the preparations and the beer, Falcon was tired.

It was time to go to bed.

The next day was not only a new day but also the start of a new way of life for him and the children, at least for a little while.

For that he needed rest.

2.  Nightmares

A distant boom in the dead of the night caused Falcon to stir from his sleep. He sat up in bed. The room was quiet and still. Josh slept on his side and Lilly on her back. Their bed was across the room and Falcon, drenched in sweat, got out of his cot immediately and checked the children.

Though Lilly snored, he still placed his hand on her chest to feel her breathing. Then he moved to Josh. He felt Josh’s little chest rise and fall and only then Falcon breathed out in relief. Not that he actually thought anything was wrong with them; it was just out of habit, and old habit from his Army days.

Falcon flashed back to what had started it. It was a thunderous explosion just outside of camp in Virginia. He was fresh out of basic training and on his first tour

“Incoming. We’re being hit!” A Sergeant cried out. “Falcon, get Stevenson.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

Falcon was already dressed and tying his boots. He looked across the tent. “Stevenson. Get up.”

Stevenson didn’t. His back faced Falcon as he lay on his side.

“Stevenson.” Falcon stomped his foot into his boot and took the three steps across the tent. “Stevenson.” When he reached down, he knew.

Stevenson was dead.

He was just an unlucky target for a wayward piece of shrapnel that seared through the tent into his forehead while he slept. He never saw it coming.

From that day forward, any time an attack happened at night, Falcon checked his bunk mates. And it carried over to checking on Josh and Lilly.

Another ‘boom’ jolted Falcon and the room lit up with a flash of green.

Heat lightening.

A dust storm wasn’t far behind, but it was perfect timing. It was a brief opportunity that Falcon had to seize, a few seconds of wind before the dust kicked in.

Falcon opened the window and a constant flow of blasting cool air rushed in. He allowed it to hit against his damp chest and it gave him some relief from the heat.

Watching for the dust, Falcon stood by the open window, hoping it would cool the whole room down. It did. Then when he could see the clear sky get hazy, he knew he had to shut the window.

The room would get dark; the storm would block out all light. Falcon, after scooting Lilly over a bit, lay in bed with his children just in case they woke.

The pellets of dirt and dust beat against the window like rain, but it wasn’t rain. Rain would be a miracle. And the world was fresh out of those.

Back propped up against the headboard, hand resting on Lilly’s head, Falcon closed his eyes.

He dozed off quickly and woke just as fast at the sound of thunder. But during that brief dance with sleep he dreamt of war, just a snippet. Most of the time war was all Falcon dreamt about.

The war.

How could he not? It was most of his life.

Sometimes he’d dream of other things, but never anything good. When was the last time Falcon had a good dream?

Each night he closed his eyes and hoped for one, but one never came.

One probably never would.

3.  Early War

When the war had first begun, no one expected it to go on. Falcon didn’t quite understand any of it. Not even why it started. He was young and only knew some bad country or bad guys came and attacked America. They brought the war to the shores of the United States.

He was a war orphan who stayed in various institutes until he was sixteen and allowed to join the service. While he wasn’t all that sure on facts, he could recall hearing ‘grownups’ discuss things at the onset. How the bad guys were messing with the wrong country. How it wouldn’t take long before the mightiest military in the world would take charge.

That was what he heard and believed, but later learned that, yes, the American military was mighty, and a good chunk of the three million soldiers were in American when it happened, but too many were reserve.

Many soldiers were overseas.

To call them all to duty and prepare them for a war took time. To bring forces back home … took time.

American sustained massive strikes and was already at a disadvantage by the time the military was ready.

To make matters worse, key American Allies had also been attacked.

In the early days of war, when Falcon was a school boy, it was hopeful. Truly early on, American troops pushed back opposing forces.

Then like always, like history dictated, others couldn’t keep their noses out.

It would have been done and over, America would have cleansed the country of the enemy.

But then another country stepped in and  then another.

Within a year it had escalated.

Before Falcon was a teenager, every seaboard state in the union was a warzone. And by the time he was seventeen, ‘Nuclear explosion’ was a commonly heard phrase.

There never was that nuclear holocaust depicted during the cold war era or in the movies of the fifties. It was always tit for tat, small weapons, usually aimed at bases or resistant points.

Other weapons and other means of destruction were used.

At least in the beginning, they were.

Later on someone got the bright idea, ‘Let’s just launch a bunch and see what happens?’

What happened was destruction and it brought no end to the war.

Basic training in the Army at one point was eleven weeks. By the time Falcon joined it was six. He was trained to fight, pure and simple. Because he was not part of the draft and scored high on the written portion of the test, he was able to choose his job. He could have been a communications specialist, but he wanted to be infantry.

He was glad he chose that or he would never have met Stacy.

His first tour was Florida. The southern portion of the peninsula had long since been submerged in water. Not deep, but enough that it was uninhabitable.

Special bombs detonated off shore created tidal waves and Tsunami like waves that were unexpected water weapons.

The enemy came aground there.

He fought ground battles in the southern state for six months until he heard a command he didn’t expect. “Retreat.”

They pulled back into Georgia.

Florida was a lost state. It was never regained at all during the war and still remained a Ran-Force territory afterwards.

Of course, it was a swamp land and the portions that weren’t encompassed in water were decimated by war.

Florida was probably the first official wasteland.

Sequentially, a lot of states were declared wastelands.

In Falcon’s lifetime he saw the United States go from 52 states to 43.

That mattered in the beginning of the war and shortly after, but now, it didn’t.

For the first time in his lifetime, a few years after the war ended, there was peace.

No one fought because there was nothing really to fight over. Falcon supposed in the future there would be. Man wouldn’t learn his lesson; he’d rebuild and eventually they’d fight again.

But for the time being, Falcon didn’t see war happening. Hell, he didn’t even see man surviving.

Man would though. He always did.

4.  Delayed by Dust

Some time during the course of the night, Lilly did that twist and turn of her body inching Falcon from the bed. Her brown hair had slipped from her ponytail and tickled his nose.  He slept a little longer on his cot and woke when the sun started to shine. He had things to do before the children woke.

Falcon knew it before he even looked out the window.

Everything was covered in a thick veil of red and brown dirt. He was ready to kick himself for leaving the vike out. It was his means of transportation, or at least one of them.

The Vike was actually a pretty great invention by some old timer in town. The man used to do body work on cars and trucks. When gasoline dried up, he converted cars and vans into what he called ‘Vikes.’ They were shelled out vehicles to carry people and goods with the ability to peddle with both arms and/or legs. They worked. They could also be pulled by a horse.

But that was for short trips. Horses required water and that was scarce, at least in the south.

The vike was covered in dust and he was glad he had put on the canvas roof. Falcon just wanted it near the porch so he could load up with ease.

He pulled a jar of granola from the cupboard and placed it on the table for Josh and Lilly, and then went outside.

He coughed, but how could he not? Each step tossed the dirt into the air.

“Damn it,” he cursed aloud, grabbing the broom and sweeping the walk in front of the house. He couldn’t spare the water to wash it down.

He was reminded of snow, when they used to get it. He remembered the heavy snows, and how, as a little boy, he’d sit in front of the living room window watching his father clean off the car.

Now Falcon was about to do the same thing.

It took all of ten minutes to clear it off. Then he took off the canvas and flapped it out. He left it down because he had to load the Vike.

Just as he finished, he saw him coming up the driveway.

Chad.

Chad was a man in his twenties with a wife. They were one of several families that moved on the property years ago. Falcon believed they moved on the property just when Josh was born, right after the cold spell ended.

Chad and his wife, like many others, had nothing, lost everything and were starving. Stacy fed them and welcomed them on the property.

Those who lived on Falcon’s land were grateful. They lived in trailers, shared a well, and in exchange, they worked the farm when it was running, helped can, tapped the wells when they needed it and built a fence on the property.

They were instrumental in keeping the place safe from transients.

Falcon wasn’t as kind as Stacy.

He had to stop letting people live on his property. There was barely enough for those who were there.

Chad rarely came up to the house so Falcon worried that something might be wrong.

“Morning,” Chad said. “Taking the kids out into town?”

“And some,” Falcon said. “What brings you up here?”

“Got a favor to ask.”

“Come on in,” Falcon waved his hand for Chad to follow and went into the house.

Chad followed. He was thin and not so pale since he spent a lot of time out in the sun. But he was worn like a lot of people. His hair thin and he was balding, probably from lack of nutrition.

“Lea’s sick,” Chad said, scratching his head. “She’s pregnant with them twins and they’re taking the toll on her. Ration and Barter day ain’t until Tuesday and that’s five days away.”

“Don’t you have food?” Falcon asked.

“Some. I got oats, that granola, a little water, jerky and stuff like that, but I was hoping you would trade one of the soup jars. She needs meat and vegetables.”

Falcon breathed out. “You know that stuff is saved for the winter for my kids.”

“I know. I know.” Chad nodded. “But I need to get that stuff in my wife and to my kids in her belly.”

“I understand.”

“I got you this for the trade.” He set a jar on the table.

“Milk?” Falcon asked.

“Yep. Went to Garrett’s farm; he has milk, lots of it. He barters it out in jars. Cows are doing well. Don’t know how.”

“He barters for feed,” Falcon said lifting the jar. “But he doesn’t barter milk until Tuesday.”

“I know. I talked to him. And look.” Chad pointed. “It’s separated and got that cream setting on top. You know the kids like the cream. I was super careful not to mix it in the walk up here.”

“Can’t take your milk. We have powder.” Falcon turned and opened the cupboard and pulled out a jar.

The soup jars were Stacy’s idea. Sealed in that jar were dehydrated vegetables, little bits of meat, and a powder that was a soup base.

He handed the jar to Chad. “Fill it with water and let it set if you don’t want to cook. It’ll be good in two hours.”

Chad grasped the jar as if it were gold. “I can’t thank you enough. Keep the milk.”

“I can’t take the milk from your wife. Give it to her.”

“I won’t feel right if I don’t give it to you,” Chad said. “Really. And I bartered it.”

“What did you barter for the milk?” Falcon asked.

“Five cigarettes.”

“Aw, Chad, come on. Damn it.” Falcon tossed out his hand. “You know as well as I do that come Tuesday bartering folks would have given you ten times as much. Why didn’t you just come here first?”

“You don’t need the cigarettes; you make them.”

“I don’t mean about that. Why didn’t you just come here to get the soup first? Jesus.” Falcon pulled out a chair and sat down. “Come to me first, please.”

“I will. And thank you.”

Falcon nodded.

Chad started to leave but stopped. He looked left and right, Falcon knew he spotted the boxes and bags. “Where you headed? You going to Corbin to barter?” Chad asked.

“No. Those are traveling supplies for me and the kids.”

Slowly, Chad turned to face Falcon. “Where are you taking them?”

“North.”

“So you’re not going as far north as Corbin?” Chad asked. “Cause it looks like you’ll be gone for a while with all this.”

“Week or so.”

Chad’s expression dropped. “Where are you going, Falcon?”

“I’m heading to the PML.”

It took Chad a moment. He tilted his head with a questioning look and then it dawned on him. ”The Presidential Memorial Library?”

Falcon nodded.

“That’s about as far north as you can go.”

“I know.”

“And it ain’t there. I mean it probably is, but it ain’t open anymore. It can’t be. You yourself told the story of how they opened it when they thought we were gonna win the war.”

“I know.”

“What is so important there?”

“You know what, my treasure.”

“It may be gone.”

“It may be, but I have to check. It’s mine. And I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Been telling the kids about it. I gave it to the PML to keep that piece of history. I didn't know it wouldn’t be carried on. Now, I want my kid to carry it on.”

“OK, that’s fine. Why don’t you leave the kids with me and Lea?”

Falcon shook his head.

“Falcon,” Chad spoke passionately. “You can’t trek three hundred plus miles with them babies. Not north. Not up there. It’s dangerous.”

“How do you know?” Falcon asked. “I mean, they lifted the hazards two years ago. At least that’s what Bill Gleece said. So how do you know? When’s the last time you were out there.”

“When’s the last time you were?” Chad asked. “When? When’s the last time you left Kentucky? Left the county? Hell this town? When? I’ll tell you when, years, Fal. Years. Not since Lilly came. You haven’t ventured farther north than Corbin to trade. And your kids? They don’t know this world, just your tales. They’ve never been farther than town. And they don’t go there often.”

“And that’s why I am taking them. For me and for them,” Falcon said. “Aren’t you curious about what has become of the world?”

“No.” Chad answered quickly. “No, I’m not. I know here in Kentucky, at least in these parts, we work together. We eat a little, wash. I don’t want to know what became of the world. I can only imagine.”

“But what if it’s better?” Falcon said. “What if there’s a better place out there and we are just so locked up down here that we don’t know. All we know is what we hear, and you and I have heard there are better places.”

“And worse.”

“Yes, yes, we heard that.” Falcon nodded. “But we do know that out there are pockets of green. The preservation center is somewhere. We know that for a fact. Bathing stations?” Falcon tilted his head. “If there are two outside former Lexington, then there has to be others.”

“I truly understand why you want to go,” Chad said. “I do. I also understand the need to know what’s out there. Hell, go and tell us all. But please, do not take them kids. They don’t need to see it.”

“I kinda think they do.”

“Why is that?” Chad asked.

“Because they are the future. And if they can see what we did to the world, then maybe … just maybe,” Falcon said. “They’ll learn what they should not do.”

5.  Facts

Falcon really did hear what Chad had to say, despite his hard core stance on taking the children with him. It was true that he himself had not left the county in years. His children never ventured farther than town.

What did they know of the world as it was?

They knew of the farm—a farm that in their lifetime was fertile and over the last year started turning brown and dying.

They remembered trees. Bill Gleece has one in a make shift greenhouse so he can preserve it for the children of the future.

Roads were still functioning, somewhat, and not entirely overgrown because everyone in town used them. The driveway to the farm house was in repair.

Despite the drought, they didn’t know much devastation.

And the world beyond their home had been devastated.

Lexington was one of the cities hit by a small payload nuclear weapon. The city had long since been abandoned.

But what remained? Falcon didn’t know.

He asked Chad if he wouldn’t mind staying with the kids while they had their breakfast. Chad had no problem doing that because Falcon told him where he was going.

To see Bill Gleece.

If there was one, Bill would be the Mayor of Landon, Kentucky.

He ran the barter days and worked with the western government when they brought in rations.

Bill was pushing sixty and said he wasn’t going to go into preservation. That surprised Falcon; everyone looked forward to that.

In any event, if anyone knew what the world was like, it was Bill Gleece. He had men he sent out scouting for things. The brought back reports along with the items.

When Falcon arrived at Bill’s house, he offered him a cigarette for his time. Bill initially declined, but then took it, telling Falcon he was the rich in the community, owning all that tobacco.

And then Bill invited Falcon into his kitchen and spread a map open on the table.

There were handmade markings on the map and Falcon was glad to see them.

“What’s out there, Bill?” Falcon asked. “I need to know.”

“All right you know this here,” Bill indicted to the western states. “They’re off limits. The government has yet to open the door to transients yet. Doubt highly they ever will. I’m mean, word has it they have a lot of pockets of green. You’re going north?”

“How bad is it?”

“Bad. My men report a few pockets of green. Not much. Not big. After Former Lexington, don’t expect another bathing station at least until Indiana. And there are no transient camps. Most are east in Virginia, West Virginia. Now, if you want green, I hear tell that’s the place to go.”

“West Virginia?”

“Yep. Limited hits, limited damage, problem is they got that locked down tight in that state. My men couldn’t get in. I lost one as they tried to sneak in through the one patch of green.”

“How hard is traveling gonna be?”

“Tough on the horse, you’ll need to stop and give your legs a rest with the vike. Vegetation would usually grow wild. All this …” Bill smoothed his hand over the map. “If this world was normal, would be overgrown with trees and grass. But it ain’t. Nothing’s growing. So the roads are cracked, some weeds, mostly dry. Drought extends from mid Indiana, and worsens the further south you go.”

“What about the PML? Your men ever been there?”

Bill shook his head. “Not there. City’s been abandoned since it lost power and most folks up north got the plague. Remember, up north they were hit pretty hard with the flu.”

Falcon nodded. “Any dangerous areas?”

“They’re scattered. Now, my man went three months ago and didn’t run into anything he couldn’t handle, but said there are a lot of Forgottens once you get by Lexington. But here’s where you pick the less of the evils. In either event to get near Fort Wayne, you either got to go through Cincinnati and Dayton or Louisville and Indianapolis. Cinci was nuked; Dayton was a hazard. Louisville nuked, Indianapolis bio bombed. Neither is gonna be pretty.”

“But they should be deserted?”

Bill shrugged. “Hard to say. Gonna have people everywhere—living on the roads, off the roads, the Forgottens.”

Falcon shuddered at the mention of ‘The Forgottens.’ That was a name the locals, and those who went north, gave to those who had survived the nuclear attacks years ago. Off spring of the survivors, some say, weren’t in their right minds.

When the larger nuclear exchange occurred, the country stopped, paused and thought about ending the war. But instead of helping the survivors, the war continued and those in the hot zones had to fend for themselves.

“Let me ask you one more question,” Falcon said. “Should I not take the kids?”

“I don’t think you’ll run into anything out there you can’t handle. Make sure you’re armed and have bartering tools.”

“No, I’m talking about what they’ll see. Destroyed cities, remnants of the past …”

“That’s the number one reason to take them,” Bill said. “We shelter all our children here. They know the good of the past, but not the bad. They know something happened to the world, but haven’t a clue what. It’s like a book. It’s a world, but it really doesn’t exist. I don’t have any young ones, but if I did, I certainly wouldn’t be building a By the Waters of Babylon World for them.”

Falcon had to laugh. “A what?”

“By the Waters of Babylon was a short story. My mother loved it. She made me read it. It’s about these kids that venture into what are called forbidden zones and discover there was a whole civilization before them. What we’re doing with our children is similar. We tell them only good, and soon, we won’t tell them anything at all. What they don’t know won’t hurt them. In a few years we may protect them more by not allowing them to venture out. Maybe even tell them those areas are poison to keep them safe.”

“I wanted to take them to see, that was my reasoning. So they can know.”

“And that, my friend, is the best reason. It ain’t gonna scar them because they never saw it the way it was. Understand? They see a burnt city, crumbling. It’s nothing to them because they didn’t see that city in its glory. Sort of like… ok,” Bill held up his hand. “You probably won’t understand this, but the ruins of the coliseum in Rome. Folks looked at them in awe of what once was. But if a Roman soldier time traveled and saw the ruins, he would be devastated, because he saw the coliseum when it was in its glory. Make sense?”

“Yes. Yes. It does. Thank you.” Falcon offered a firm handshake.

“You’re welcome, and please. Bring us back information,” Bill said.

“I will. I will.” Filled with knowledge and confidence, along with a little excitement, Falcon left Bill’s home and readied for his journey.

6.  Nuclear War

Thankfully Falcon was on leave, between tours, when the strike happened. It happened over the course of three days. Back then there were still radios, and a community television in town picked up the government station.

Before the country divided between East and West, there was much of an Eastern government, but there was one. It just didn’t have the resources or manpower that the West had.

The nuclear weapons used were no bigger then the historic ones dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki—enough to cause destruction, flatten most of a city, crumble the citizens and throw the military into disarray.

Twelve American cities were hit. No rhyme or reason for the strikes. Falcon supposed it was just whatever was convenient.

Stacy was a mess over it all. “Please tell me they’ll stop. Please,” she said over news that Louisville was hit.

Falcon reassured her that the weapon was small and the radiation wouldn’t be that bad.

Soon, America retaliated with its own strikes, bigger ones. It didn’t escalate.

It stopped.

They actually celebrated in town, thinking it ended the war, but within days, messenger came for Falcon that he was to report for duty outside of Former Louisville.

He was to police the undamaged streets and look for survivors. He wore a radiation suit that whole time and wondered how much damage he was doing to his body, despite the suit.

Three months on, three months off to repair any radiation damage.

One of the first days he was policing the vacant streets, Falcon found a broken cell phone.

“What’s that you got?” another soldier asked.

“A relic of the past,” Falcon replied.

The soldier laughed. “The Past? They just aren’t working right now. They will again. Give it time.”

Falcon disagreed, but didn’t say so; he just nodded, dropped the phone and continued on. But that cell phone, working or not, was the last one he held in his hand, ever.

The cold front came in six months post nuclear attack and some called it a mini ice age. They said places like Pittsburgh and Albany were buried in snow.

Falcon could only imagine, since the farm had stayed under two feet of snow for two months. It started falling in September and by December, when the temperatures really plummeted, it turned to ice.

It took a year for temperatures to start to rise and almost another year for the snow to melt. But the ground was good after that, the best it ever was. Things grew. Everyone hoped it was a renewal.

But the war continued and the ozone had been compromised. Two more harvests and things spiraled down hill.

Joshua was conceived in the second year of the cold. That amazed Falcon because he was certain the radiation had killed all his sperm. He never got sick, but he never grew anymore hair.

But Josh was healthy and as big as a horse when he was born.

Lilly, on the other hand, was the miracle baby.

Not her conception, but her birth.

Stacy swore up and down that the baby in her belly kept her safe from getting ill. Just about the time she got pregnant with Lilly, bio weapons were used all over and it spread a germ that began a pandemic like no other.

Stacy, being a nurse, felt she needed to take care of the ill.

She kept Joshua though, and her father, sealed in the kitchen and side room of the house, quarantined from everyone.

But she herself felt protected.

She was wrong.

Just as the pandemic slowed to a crawl and quarantines across the country were lifted, Stacy got sick very sick.

At almost nine months pregnant, Falcon was summoned home.

Like 95% of all those who caught the plague, Stacy wasn’t going to make it.

Falcon made it home in time. Stacy’s neck was blue from swelling; she could barely breathe and talk. Each time she coughed, she struggled to get her breath again. Worst of all her fever raged.

There was one doctor remaining in town. He was at the farm. Stacy had been there for so many of the sick; he couldn’t bring himself to leave her side.

“She won’t make it through the night,” the doctor said.

Falcon held her had, Stacy was out of it, non responsive. As he placed his forehead to her belly, he felt the baby kick. ‘The baby is still alive?” he asked.

“Probably has the flu as well.”

“What are we gonna do?” Falcon asked.

“Let the child die with his mother,” the doctor suggested. “Do you want to bring another baby into this world?”

“But is it right to let it die in there?”

“If we let it be born, it’ll die out here, probably within an hour. In there, it isn’t suffering.”

Falcon just wanted to cry. Stacy couldn’t give him an answer. He felt like crumbling each kick he felt. He was losing his wife and his child.

“Cut it out,” Jim, Stacy’s father, said. “Cut it out of my daughter.”

Falcon lifted his head.

“I have raised my child for twenty-nine years. I know what she would want. She’d want that baby to have a chance. Even if slim, give it a chance,” Jim said.

The doctor breathed heavily. “She won’t survive a surgery.”

“She isn’t surviving anyhow.” Jim’s words trembled. “I’m losing my daughter, my only child. Please, don’t let me lose the life inside her, as well.”

The doctor all but said it was a lost cause and a waste of time. But they performed the caesarean.

They sedated Stacy and the moment the doctor made the first incision, Stacy passed away. Holding her husband’s hand, her head tilted and she died.

The doctor removed a little girl. She was the tiniest thing anyone had ever seen. They said she wasn’t even five pounds and no one expected her to live through the night.

When she did, they gave her another week.

No mother’s milk, limited baby formula. One week.

But Lilly defied the odds. There was something special about Lilly. Not that there wasn’t about Josh, but Lilly, she was the fighter.

Lily was a survivor. Her entire ‘no nonsense attitude’ wasn’t that of a normal six year old.

And because of that, Falcon felt it all right to talk to her and Josh before they journeyed north.

Tell them the bad as well as the good.

Tell them why they would see what they would see.

Prepare them. Even though he knew it would breed a lot of questions, Falcon didn’t mind. It was road talk.

But it would be the truth.

As Bill Gleece said. . .

No By the Waters of Babylon world for his children.

7.  Moving Forward

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Josh said to Falcon as he climbed into the vike. “You made us sit there and listen because you think we thought everything would look pretty?”

“Aren’t you expecting that?” Falcon asked.

Josh shook his head. “We aren’t dumb. We know it’s not gonna look like them pictures in the books and magazine. There was a big war, Dad.”

“Just making sure,” Falcon said as he lifted Lilly. She smiled at him. Her eyes were so big and brown.

“I want to see new people,” she said. “Think we will?”

“I don’t know.”

Josh said, “Heard there are mutants out there.”

Falcon paused as he got into the Vike. “Now where did you hear that word?”

“Chad.” Josh replied. “He said there are mutants in Indiana.”

“Daddy?” Lilly asked. “What’s a mutant?”

Falcon answered, “It’s someone or something that doesn’t look normal, someone who is deformed.”

Lilly screamed.

Falcon closed off the ear closest to her. “Stop.”

“I don’t wanna see a mutant,” Lilly said.

“There aren’t any mutants,” Falcon added as he snapped the rein to the horse.

“Chad said,” Josh added, “they have three arms.”

Lilly screamed again.

“Will you stop?” Falcon said with a snap to his voice. “We aren’t gonna see any mutants.”

Josh laughed.

Lilly shook her head. “Don’t know if I want three arms. The extra one would just dangle. Hang there and dangle.”

“Stop,” Falcon argued moving the horse at a steady pace. “No one is gonna have three arms.”

“Then they’ll have three heads,” Josh said.

Lilly screamed.

Josh laughed.

<><><><>

Falcon pulled the reins and brought the horse to a stop moments after Josh’s awe filled ‘whoa’ rang out and the boy began to stand.

Falcon expected the ‘awe’ or shock, but not so early.

He knew it was coming. They pulled down the driveway and the kids joked. They were filled with enthusiasm as they headed to town, confident, maybe even cocky, about the trip. And then the chatter slowed as they made it through town.

It was quiet as the town became a mere speck in the background.

And Falcon felt Lilly’s little fingers wrap around his when they couldn’t see the town anymore.

Her head rested against is arm as he sat between the two kids.

Josh stared out, quiet, intermittently biting his nails.

The winding road was quiet. They didn’t see a soul or animal. Dead trees lined the cracked road that still had dust from the storm and scattered crushed leaves.

It wasn’t until they passed the bent sign, faded and partially hidden that both kids seemed to tense and sit up.

They pulled on to the highway.

“Whoa!” Josh blurted out.

The vike stopped.

“What is this kind of road?” he asked.

“It’s called a highway. Or it was.”

If it appeared vast to Falcon he could only imagine how it appeared to the children who had never seen a highway.

The six lanes with the open middle extended as far as the eye could see.

The concrete was dry and cracked, with weeds, long since dead extending from the middle. The hills and mountains that surrouneded the highway were brown, like everything else.

Even the abandoned vehicles here and there seemed miniscule and small.

“Holy cow,” Josh said. “How big were people that they needed roads this big?”

Falcon chuckled. “It wasn’t the people, it was the cars. Everyone had one. Most people had two and this road here, was one of those roads that took people from major city to major city.”

Lilly asked. “Why don’t they use them anymore?”

“Most folks don’t have the water we do. Although, I suppose up north it’s not as bad. Horses need water. And there aren’t any more cars. So there is no need. Plus, you know, people just aren’t going to the big cities.”

“Why?” Lilly asked.

Josh said, “Because of nuclear war, he told you that. They burned up or got sick or just moved on. Gees.”

“To where?” asked Lilly. “Did they go to the oceans, Daddy?”

“Maybe,” Falcon answered. “Or someplace green.”

Lilly sighed. “I want to see green, Daddy. Josh saw green.”

“When I was young, but not much though,” Josh said.

“Daddy?” Lilly asked. “When you were my age, did you see green?”

“All the time, baby girl. All the time.”

Lilly shivered and folded her arms, raising her head boldly. “Oh, then I want to see green. Just once. You think we’ll see green going to the Peemale?”

“The what?” Falcon asked.

“Peemale. You spell it all the time. I can spell. PML.”

Falcon was going to correct her, but didn’t. “You know what, for your sake, I hope we do see Green.”

Her innocence made him smile and Falcon snapped the reins to get the horse moving once again.

8.  Bathing

Falcon truly hoped, for his daughter’s sake, there would be some green as the highway crossed through the Daniel Boone National Forest. It extended so long, how could there not be? That was what Falcon thought.

But nothing. No green.

It looked as if wildfires had ripped through the forest. He recalled seeing the smoke a year ago and wondering what it was. Someone said it was the forest, but to Falcon there was no way it was all gone.

Maybe it wasn’t.

Maybe north it remained,

But where they were there was nothing but broken tress, blackened and dead.

They saw a man camped out off the road just as they hit the edge of the former forest at  New Mt. Vernon. He had a small tent and Falcon watched as he walked from his roadside camp to the road, waving his hands.

His eyesight was still good and Falcon immediately looked for others who might be hiding. His senses didn’t tell him it was an ambush. He couldn’t see any others and the man wasn’t armed.

Falcon was and he pulled his rifle to his lap as he slowed down the horse.

“Daddy?” Lilly asked in a tiny whisper. “Why’s he stopping us?”

“Don’t know. I’ll find out.”

“Do we have to stop?” Josh asked. “We should just wave and keep going.”

That wasn’t a bad idea, but Falcon couldn’t do it, especially when the man smiled as they stopped.

“Well, hey, where you folks headed?” he asked. His face wasn’t too dirty, not like some of the other transients Falcon had seen.

“North. How about you?”

“I’m headed south, trying to get to Tennessee. Heard there’s green down there. At least a good bit of green.”

Falcon shook his head with a shrug. “I haven’t been that south in years, so I wouldn’t know. We’re headed into Indiana. Know much?”

“Not been to Indiana,” the man replied. “Just Ohio. Will tell you this though, if you can, avoid, Ohio. Lot of dangerous transients there but haven’t heard much about Indiana. You can’t get through Lexington. Road’s gone. There’s a bathing and transient place just about a mile west and a road that will take you through Louisville.”

“That safe?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” the man replied. “Saw nothing or no one after the station.”

“Thank you,” Falcon said. “We appreciate it. If you take this road straight south, you’ll be safe as well. Did you need anything?”

“No, I’m good. Just was wondering what the passage was like. Well … safe journey to you.” The man tipped his head.

“Safe journey to you too,” Falcon replied and moved the horse.

Josh asked, “What’s a bathing station? I keep hearing that.”

“To be honest, I didn’t think they were real. Just tales, you know,” Falcon said. “But they’re places where the government brings in water so people can get clean, have a drink, and rest safely as they move from one place to another. “

Josh whistled. “Boy, a lot of people must move.”

“They’re called transients,” Falcon explained. “They have no homes and they just go about looking for a good place to settle.”

“Probably looking for green,” Lilly said. “And any of them ‘tran’ people we see probably don’t know where the green is or else they’d stay there, right Daddy?”

“That’s right.”

“Oh, I hope we see green.” Lilly rubbed her hands together. “Please, God, let me see green.”

It didn’t make Falcon smile to hear her say that; it broke his heart. Though he could barely remember being Lilly’s age, he could vividly recall a lot of things he hoped for and waited for and not one of them was a patch of green, fertile land.

How sad that in her lifetime she had not seen a tree, felt the grass, smelled a flower.

Falcon wanted to tell her that perhaps God wasn’t going to be answering that type of prayer. He was pretty sure people had been praying for green for a long time and the prayer still hadn’t been answered. Then again, maybe the voice and prayer of a little girl was what God needed to hear.

It was a saying he had heard several times in his life, but didn’t really think it held true until they arrived at the bathing station for the evening.

Out of the mouths of babes.

How right Lilly was and Falcon knew it when he asked the first transient if he had seen green up north. The transient had replied, “If I did, would I be here? I’d be there.”

The bathing station wasn’t what Falcon had envisioned. Actually, he didn’t know what he envisioned. It was a large metal building set inside a fenced off area. The people at the station took your name and gave you a number.

Inside the building were shower stalls and each person got a four minute shower. Falcon wasn’t permitted in the woman’s area with Lilly, but there was a government woman who helped her.

Falcon was nervous about that and it was the longest four minutes he could recall waiting. But Lilly emerged clean and smelled really nice.

They set up their camp for the night away from everyone else. The bathing station didn’t provide food, but they did provide a quart of drinking water and a bucket of animal quality water for the horse.

Some people had their own food; some didn’t and were hungry. Falcon could see them going from person to person asking for food until the government officials asked them to leave. No solicitation or begging was permitted at bathing stations.

Not that Falcon would have turned anyone down. He wouldn’t. He promised himself he’d follow his wife’s rules when he could.

But beggars never made it as far as Falcon.

There were no fires permitted. Falcon didn’t bring a tent, so they stayed inside the Vike despite the fact it was hot.

Josh understood about the beggars. Lilly didn’t. She kept asking him questions, wanting him to explain why some people were leaving when it was night and why the group with children had to go.

Falcon explained that they were asking others for food and that was against the rules.

Lilly didn’t understand.

“If they’re hungry, why can’t we give them food?” Lilly asked. “Why is that wrong?”

“I suppose it’s because people have it hard and what they have has to last. Like the way we ration our water at home. And they come into this place wanting to rest and keep what they have.”

Lilly shook her head. "It doesn’t make sense. Can’t we give them food? I don’t need my jerky.” She held up a piece.

“Yeah, you do.” Falcon pushed it back to her.

A part of Falcon was grateful for his children’s generosity. Between Josh giving his water to the wayward dog and Lilly willing to give up her jerky, Falcon knew they were clueless as to the gravity of the situation. Their naivety showed how sheltered they really were. He wondered if their naivety would be gone after the trip north.

9.  Green

The roads were flat once they hit Indiana. The bathing stations seemed to be located off the major roads and the distance of a good day’s walk or trotting horse ride. It made it easier for Falcon to stop for the night.

Last night, though, there wasn’t a bathing station. He was told there wouldn’t be one the previous night when he stopped at a very crowded one.

Someone there told him that it was the end of the line for stations, mainly because the drought didn’t really reach the cities. They were just without power, sewage or means to survive and that was the main reason they were vacated.

They looped around Louisville, which had been hit years earlier by a nuclear weapon. Some buildings still stood but were burnt; others had crumbled during the destruction or just from the passing of years.

The blockades to the city’s exits had been moved aside and signs placed upon them stating ‘Viable Zone’.

Falcon recalled when Louisville was a hazard zone.

A radioactive wasteland.

That was what they called it only a few years ago. Some radiation had to remain, but he guessed not enough to be deadly.

The PML wasn’t exactly in Fort Wayne; it was actually like a mall, located about twelve miles south of the city. It was set off by itself and the signs on the road let them know they were close.

It was the fifth day of traveling. Falcon didn’t take into account the bathing stations, so they were faring well on their water.

Somewhere about twenty miles back, Lilly, with eagle eyes like Falcon, had spotted it first. She pointed with enthusiasm, shouting out, “Green! Daddy! Green!”

“Where?” Josh asked. “Where?”

“Straight ahead.” Falcon pointed.

Lilly gasped. Her tiny hand shot to her mouth. “Oh, Daddy! It’s green!”

Falcon really didn’t know about the Green portion, but it wasn’t brown, that was for sure. It was a speck of green. Maybe it was a tree that survived or something.

“Dad?” Josh asked. “You think the transients didn’t make it up this far? Cause no one said they saw green.”

“This is pretty north, and at one time, Josh, everyone up here was sick. Everyone.”

“The airs feels different,” Josh said. “Or is it me?”

“No, it feels different, kind of humid,” Falcon said.

“What’s humid?” Josh asked.

“When there’s water in the air. It’s dry down where we live now. Didn’t used to be, but is now. So the air is hot and dry, this is damp and hot.”

“Feels thick,” Josh said

“It does.”

Then Lilly, with her usual dramatics, gasped again. “Oh, water in the air! Do you think it might rain, Daddy? That would be the greatest thing in the world.”

Falcon peered to the blue sky. “No. I don’t.”

“We can wish, right?” Lilly asked.

“Right.” Falcon winked.

They made the turn off the highway to the Presidential Memorial Library Lane. They had to leave the horse tied at the end of the driveway. Barricades were placed along with signs telling people to stay out.

Falcon didn’t foresee any problems. After all, the signs had long since started to fade and they had … a green substance on them. What it was, Falcon didn’t know. But he stopped Lilly’s fingers from touching the sign.

“But it’s green, Daddy.”

“I’m thinking that’s not the type of green we want to touch,” Falcon told her.

Excitedly, Josh called out, “What about this?”

Falcon lifted his head; Josh had darted through the barricade and was a good twenty feet ahead, crouched down by the cracked pavement.

“What do you see?” Falcon, holding Lilly’s hand, asked.

Josh looked up and a wide grin spread across his face. “Grass!”

“Actually, that’s a weed, but close enough.” Falcon nodded to Lilly.

She raced to the inch high weed that poked through the concrete. “Can I touch it?”

“Yes. You can touch that.”

She gave an enthusiastic scream as she touched it. “Can I take it with us?”

“No.” Falcon said. “If things are gonna grow again, let’s let them …” His eyes strayed.

“Dad?” Josh called for him. “What’s wrong?”

“Holy cow.” Falcon whispered. “It’s the green we saw.”

Falcon spoke of the PML. He had seen it one other time and that was when he was twelve. It was newly constructed then and because he made a donation of value, he got to see it before anyone else. It was empty then, not many people and clean and shiny. His feet made an echoing noise on the floor and he had to speak in a soft voice because it sounded loud inside.

When it was first built, the outside the primarily glass building was encircled by white pillars, similar to those of the White House. It was an exciting time because, when it was built, America had the big upper hand in the war and it looked good. War wouldn’t last much longer. Of course that was wrong.

When twelve year old Falcon stepped inside he saw pictures of every American president. And while there wasn’t a room for every president, there was a book on every one. Stacks and stacks of books, shelves so high that librarians needed rolling ladders.

Falcon’s donation was placed in a case in the doorway of the first library room,

That was then.

The green speck that caught their eye in the distance was the library. The ground around the library had become over grown with ivy. Ivy had suffocated the trees and encompassed the building.

From the edge of the driveway it appeared as if the entire building was buried. But the closer they walked, they saw it hadn’t been.

“This is it,” Falcon said. His insides trembled, and yet he was a bit fearful of what the inside would bring.

He separated the ivy so they could step through. It was tricky, especially since the children kept touching it.

To him, the look on their faces and seeing the green leaves of a parasitic vine was worth the trip to retrieve his treasure.

He supposed they wouldn’t understand it, but eventually they would.

The door was locked. Not that Falcon expected it to be open. A metal gate surrounded the door, which made breaking the window and climbing through impossible.

But most of the walls were glass, and they weren’t protected by metal.

He told the children to stand back and he found an area to break though.

It took about ten hard hits with the butt of his rifle before the glass broke. It didn’t shatter though. Falcon had to keep hitting it to make a spot big enough to climb through.

A strong smell blasted through the opening. It was a musty and moldy smell and that was exactly what was inside the building.

Mold.

Ivy had made its way through some of the flooring, but mold and moss had taken over everything.

He had to tell the children to not only be careful of the glass but also of the slippery mold on the floors.

They wanted to see green. They were getting green, along with some other colors as well.

The glass building, sealed around ten years earlier, had become a giant ecosystem.

The moss and mold covered everything. The pictures of the presidents were hidden. At first Falcon thought they had been taken down and he worried his treasure was gone as well. Then he saw the edges of a few frames.

The presidents were there, but buried.

Just like their memories of them.

“What happened?” Josh asked. “This ain’t nuclear war.”

Falcon shook his head. “Nature. Remember when I got bread at the barter day and we didn’t eat it all right away? It got that green stuff on it. This is similar.”

“How did that happen?”

“Air tight. Moisture.” Flacon shrugged. “I’m guessing. I don’t know.”

He rested one hand on Josh’s shoulder and clung tight to Lilly’s hand with his other. He had to get his bearings so he walked to where the front door would have been. He noticed Lilly taking hard, long blinks. “What’s the matter sweetie? Your eyes hurt?”

“No,” Lilly said. “I’m making sure everything I see stays tight in my mind so I can remember it forever. This is so pretty Daddy. So pretty.”

He supposed in a way it was. After all, most of the colors they had seen were brown and yellow. The one and only tree in town was off limits to everyone, so they had never seen it.

“It is pretty, smells funny, but pretty.”

“I don’t care.” Lilly said. “It smells good to me.”

“Me, too,” Josh added. “It’s so great, Dad, thank you for letting us see this.”

They considered moss, ivy and mold as great sights?  It was a bit sad to hear them say that.

“There.” Falcon pointed to a set of double doors. One was completely covered in moss, the other was open and ivy formed a slight blockade. “It was in there the last I was here.”

Slightly excited, he hurried his children along.

The second they stepped inside the library room, Falcon knew it was there. The display case was covered with green stuff which had crept over the photograph that was perched on top.

Falcon pulled out his handkerchief and wiped off the picture.

“Daddy!” Lilly shrieked. “Is that you? It looks like Josh!”

“Yep. That’s me.” Falcon said as he gazed at the picture of him as a twelve year old holding a box. There was a story underneath it, but the words were covered.

After an airy breath, Lilly tugged Falcon’s hand. “Daddy, we have to take this picture with us. We can’t leave it here.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“We have to try,” she said. “I want this picture of my Daddy. It’s the only one I ever saw of you as a boy.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Josh said. “I’d like us to have it.”

“Then we’ll try,” Falcon said. “But first, what we came here for.” He raised his rifle, and butt end first slammed it down through the thick green covering.

He used every ounce of his strength and with a mighty blow, the glass finally shattered and dropped like magic exposing Falcon’s treasure in perfect condition.

It was a metal box, eight inches long, six inches high.

His hands trembled as he reached for it. It was closed and he knew by the weight that the contents were still in there. His hand smoothed over the engraved words and he basked in a memory of a moment.

“Can we open it?” Josh asked. “You never said what was in there.”

“Not here.” Falcon said. “When we get home, ok? This is special. See this …” Falcon pointed to the front.

Josh’s finger touched the embedded bullet. “Someone shot the box?”

“You know how I always said that the contents of the box meant peace, the end of oppression and war, or at least it tried. Well, this bullet saved someone’s life and to me it was always a symbol that the box was supposed to one day stop all bullets.”

“Keep peace?” Josh asked.

“And maybe, in the right hands …” Falcon laid it in Josh’s hands. “Stop any more wars.”

“It’ll be my treasure now, huh, Dad.”

Falcon smiled. The smile fell when he heard Lilly start to whine. “What’s wrong?”

She crossed her arms. “I don’t understand why he gets the box.”

“You both do,” Falcon said. “But he’s the oldest, so he gets it first. You …” He lifted her up to his hip. “You get to help me free this picture.”

Lilly looked upon the picture of Falcon. “I think this…” She touched it. “This will be my treasure, if that’s ok.”

“That would be fine.” Falcon kissed his daughter, set her down and then worked to free the picture.

10. Little Things

A lot of things brought back memories for Falcon on the return trip—Josh holding that box on his lap, so tight, so secure, just like Falcon had done years before and Lilly in the back of the vike, holding a doll, while holding the picture of Falcon as a boy. She pretended to read the words on the picture. Falcon made a mental promise right away to read that to her when they got home.

But how long would their home last? How long until they were out on the road like every other transient?

For the time being they had food. Falcon was so careful about that. Barter and ration days he got what he could. He stored not only water but food in the pits he had dug. They were small pits with covers that no one knew about, pits he had carefully hidden.

But even then, how long could that last? If it didn’t rain, and if the farm land didn’t come back and the wells replenish, Falcon had a good six months to a year but then he would have nothing.

He, like most, would have to move on.

He thought about that. Maybe if that occurred he’d move the children north near the PML. After all, if the ivy grew, other things had to grow as well.

How wrong his wife was. For years she let people on the land. Anyone with a story, she let them on to live there, to share the wells, to eat the food.

Her attitude was, God blessed the land and it wasn’t right for them to keep it all to themselves.

But with her passing, Falcon had to say enough.

He had stopped people from moving in.

There were so many there already and he had wondered how he could  possibly sustain them if the land dried up.

And it did. A year after Stacy passed away, the drought really kicked in and Falcon was glad he stopped more transients from living on the land.

He was already pushing the limits of the resources.

Of course, he was certain Stacy would have kept allowing people to move on the land. And, if he had, instead of six months to a year’s worth of supplies, they’d have nothing.

Stacy was a good soul. Falcon didn’t see him ever being as good as Stacy.

The children … they took after her.

They stopped only for a couple hours that first evening on the return trip. There were no bathing stations, so they just pulled over.

They ate and Falcon told stories. He told about places called amusement parks, because the children had seen a Farris wheel and didn’t know what it was.

On the third night, thirty miles north of Louisville, they stopped at a bathing station. Someone had donated fowl to the camp and everyone feasted on the birds. Falcon was amazed at how well not only their water but also their food had held up.

The horse was also well supplied with water.

Bellies full, they rested. The treasure, the box, had never once in the journey home left Josh’s side.

The journey the next day would bring them home, or close to it.

But just as they hit the beltway that lopped around Louisville, the rear tire on the vike popped.

They had no choice but to stop.

It was something Falcon could fix, he had the hand pump to inflate it, but unfortunately the popped tire was blown.

Falcon would have to find a new one.

They were on the outskirts of Louisville, on the edge of Damage, as Falcon called it. It was a section of the city not burnt or blasted, but rather abandoned after the nuclear weapon fell.

Slowly, Falcon eased the vike off the ramp and into the city.

Weeds had once grown over everything, but had long since dried out from the drought.

There were cars, lots of them. Flat tires didn’t matter, he could inflate them. He just needed one that wasn’t damaged.

He passed an old grade school and pulled over on what probably was a busy street at one time. There was a drug store, long since looted and emptied, and remnants of a fast food restaurant. Businesses and offices were abandoned.

Falcon settled the vike and horse in the parking lot of a deteriorated convenience store and the children walked the block with him as he looked for a replacement tire. It wasn’t too difficult given the vast number of abandoned cars.

They returned to the Vike and he settled the children on a slab of concrete. Earlier in the day he had added water to the jar of dehydrated sweetened beans. Warmed by the sun they were perfect and ready to eat.

He gave them some water and fixed them each a plate. They could have their lunch while he took the time to make the repair.

He heard them talking while he worked on the tire and then Josh approached him.

“You need any help?” he asked.

“No, I’m good. How’s your sister?” Falcon asked.

“Fine.”

“Maybe you should go sit with her.”

“I’d like to help you. She’s right there. You can hear her talking.”

That was true. Lilly went from rattling to Josh to rattling alone, and giggling as well. She was within ear shot. Since he was able to hear her just fine and Lilly continuously rambled to her doll, Falcon took Josh up on his offer of help. He did it more so to educate the boy than out of actual need for help.

“Hand me that big long metal tool,” Falcon told him. “I need to put the new one on.”

“Shouldn’t we blow it up first?” Josh asked.

Falcon paused. He didn’t know. He honestly didn’t know. He had never really changed a tire, only been told how. “What do you think?” he asked Josh.

“Well, the vike is heavy. I would think it would be easy to blow it up first and then put it on.”

“Maybe you’re right. Can you grab the pump from the back of the vike?”

“Yes, sir,”Josh said.

“Daddy?” Lilly called out.

“Yes, baby,” falcon answered without turning around.

“Can I have more water and beans, please?”

“Wow, you must be hungry.”

“Not really,” Lilly answered. “But she is.”

“She?” Falcon thought and turned his head slowly to peer over his shoulder. When he did, the tool fell from his hand.

Lilly sat with a baby, a girl, he supposed, no older than three. The tiny tot was filthy, her hair was splotched and she was bone thin. Her eyes were sunk in and her complexion was pale. But despite all that, the girl licked the red sauce that was on the beans off her fingers.

“Josh!” Falcon called out. “Forget the pump. Grab me water and some granola. Hurry.” He ran to his daughter. “And a fresh rag!” he instructed Josh.

“She’s hungry, Daddy.” Lilly said and handed the little girl the spoon.

The child hadn’t a clue what to do with the spoon. She reached for the plate.

“She ate the whole plate before I even knew it,” Lilly said.

“Lilly, where did she come from?” Falcon asked.

“I don’t know. I was just sitting here and she walked over after Josh went to you and grabbed my plate.” Lilly answered. “Isn’t she cute, Daddy? She smells but she is cute.”

Falcon crouched down to the little girl. Immediately the child scooted toward Lilly.

Lilly giggled. “She likes me. I tried to give her water. She doesn’t know how to drink it.”

“She needs water.” Falcon said and grabbed Lilly’s cup. He showed the cup to the toddler who did nothing. The Falcon held his finger up to the girl and made Lilly take a drink. “See?” he said to the baby and then extended her the cup. He put it to her lips and tilted the substance into her mouth.

She choked at first but then finally drank.

“Good girl,” Falcon said. “Good girl.”

“Dad,” Josh approached. “I got the stuff you … whoa, a baby?”

“Yes.” Falcon answered. “Pour me some water on a cloth, Josh.” While Josh did that, Falcon grabbed granola and handed it to the baby. “Eat.” He put the food in her mouth.

Josh handed his father the rag. “She’s the thinnest baby I’ve ever seen. Not like I’ve seen many, but I ain’t even seen a baby that was just skin and bones.”

Lilly added. “But she’s got a big belly!”

“That’s because she is starving.” Falcon said. “She isn’t eating.”

“But she’s just a baby, Daddy.” Lilly said. “How is she living if she isn’t eating? Where’s her ma?”

“I don’t know.” Falcon proceeded to wipe off the child. He needed to really see her skin color, to see her face. Her hair was falling out, a sure sign that she hadn’t eaten properly or much in a long time. She wore a shirt, only a shirt, and it had a black substance on it. It was the same substance that was on her arms. It smelled badly and Falcon couldn’t place the smell. It wasn’t human waste. He tried his hardest to clean her, then asked Josh to find a shirt of Lilly’s in the Vike.

The child didn’t cry or react; she was hungry, and she opened her mouth for anything. Falcon was careful not to feed her too much.

“Can we keep her?” Lilly asked

“No.” Falcon said. “She has to have a mother or father somewhere.”

“But where is she?” Lilly asked.

“I don’t know.” Falcon stared into the big eyes of the baby. It was frightening for him to see a child like that. He had seen children at the bathing stations and transient children, but never a child so pathetic, so frail and boney, a human skeleton with skin. There was nothing to her, absolutely nothing.

He instructed Josh to sit with Lilly and the baby while he finished the tire. The family of the baby had to be around somewhere and Falcon was certain they were frantically looking for her.

‘Keep an ear out,’ he told the children, in case the mother or family was calling out.

He finished the tire and it wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be. It seemed to work; it wasn’t the same size as the others, but they didn’t have much farther to travel to get home. He hoped it would get them there.

Lilly had taken to cleaning the baby obsessively and the child was smiling. Falcon brought over a cloth and made a diaper for the baby as best as he could. When he lifted her an ache grew in the pit of his stomach. She was like air.

“I’ve been giving her water,” Josh said. "She’s been sipping it, too.”

“That’s good.” Falcon heard the words but felt that child in his arms. He wanted to hug her and he did, but was ever so gentle about it.

Falcon’s lips puckered and felt tight. He fought with his emotions of how badly he felt for the child and for the family as well.

Holding Lilly’s hand and with Josh close by they began to scout out the area. The child couldn’t have made it too far from her camp. There was so much rubble and no way had she crawled over it alone.

There was a mound of bricks and debris and Falcon asked Josh to carefully climb up to see if he could spot anyone.

Josh obliged but only made it halfway up the mound before he stopped. Appearing defeated, he looked back at Falcon.

“What’s wrong?” Falcon asked. “Are you scared? Come hold the baby, son, I’ll do it.”

Josh shook his head and then climbed down. He walked up to Falcon, lowered his head and without looking, pointed outward.

“Josh what is it?”

“On the other side of that car,” Josh said and pointed.

Falcon turned his head to the right. He spotted the red car, it wasn’t that far from them, and Josh had gotten a glimpse into it on his climb.

He made his way over to the car and saw what Josh had seen.

“Ma!” the baby held out her hand. “Ma!”

Falcon felt sick, he handed the child to Josh. “Take the baby, Josh, over there.”

“Yes, sir.” Josh took the child and immediately the baby wailed the word ‘Ma!’ over and over.

Falcon tried to block it. He walked around the car. He should have known. Check the cars. People always used cars as part of camps. Abandoned cars also provided safe shelter in case of stray animals. And there it was. In a make shift tent made out of an old curtain was the body of a young woman. She lay on her side on top of a sleeping bag. He eyes were open and flies buzzed about. Her skin was bloated from the heat and had begun to stretch and ooze. Covering his mouth, Falcon walked to the woman and discovered the source of the black substance that was on the baby’s shirt.

Falcon immediately fought the vomit that crept up his throat.

It was coagulated blood and body fluids. The woman must have died in her sleep next to the baby and the child had diligently waited for her mother to awaken.

How hard that child must have tried to wake her.

She must have been shaking her every day, calling to her, grabbing for her. That was evident by the tiny hand indentation in the woman’s decaying flesh.

Falcon took the curtain that was used as a tent and covered the woman’s body.

He returned to his children, grabbed hold of the baby and simply told them all, “Let’s go. Let’s go home.”

They were close.

It wouldn’t take long. Another day … maybe.

11.  Final Stretch

With the search for the tire and finding the baby, they were in Louisville longer than Falcon thought.

Lilly named the baby girl Belle. Mainly because she thought it would be easier for the baby to say. And Lilly tried diligently to get the child to speak.

She said, ‘Ma’ and even giggled at Lilly.

It was dark faster than Falcon expected so he kept his eyes open for an abandoned car. They were crucial when out in the open. No matter how broken or old, they provided better shelter in case of a dust storm than the Vike could. When he spotted one he pulled the Vike over and made a small camp about twenty feet from the car. Someone else had done the same at one point. The car wasn’t encrusted in dirt. He told the kids that when they woke up, they wouldn’t have that long to go before they got home.

They were close.

But it was just too dark to go any farther. The moon wasn’t a light on this night; it seemed hidden.

Falcon made sure that Belle was eating. He gave her small portions; he didn’t want to overdo it. Water was important; she couldn’t get too much of that.

She had a cough. It sounded like the croup at times. Josh used to get that. But it was a bit wet. Being a father, Falcon wasn’t worried too much about the cough. When they got back home, he’d find the doc and have him take a look at her or Mrs. Gleece. She was a midwife.

He was certain the child was weak from not eating for days after her mother died, and how long before that had she eaten a proper meal he couldn’t guess.

The thinness of her body didn’t come about in a couple days.

It was getting late and he could tell by the yawns the kids were tired with the exception of Belle who had finally perked up some. Lilly treated her like her own personal baby doll. But Falcon had to tell Lilly, not too play with her too much. It seemed every time Belle got excited she coughed.

Josh was telling a story, sipping on his water ration and making it last.

Falcon loved when Josh told stories. He made them up and did so as he went along. Sometimes they made sense and other times they didn’t.

He loved when he incorporated things from the old world, but didn’t understand their uses. His current story had a refrigerator as a place where people stored their extra shoes.

“You mean they had more than one pair that fit?” Lilly asked.

“Oh, sure,” Josh said. “People in the old world, they had hundreds of shoes.”

“What for?” Lilly asked. “Why do they need that many shoes?”

“Because the ground was radioactive and they had to change their shoes to new ones every day.”

Falcon laughed.

Then a huge, rolling ‘boom’ caused the children to scream and jump.

“Dad?” Josh asked. “Dust storm?”

As Falcon peered up the sky flashed brightly and the thunder rolled with a mighty crack.

Another flash of light but it was an odd color, almost white.

Belle cradled to Lilly.

“Looks like it’s gonna be a doozy of a dust storm, let’s get in that car,” Falcon instructed. “Go on. Hurry.”

“Dad?” Josh asked with a bit of fear. “We ain’t been out in a storm. Will we be okay?”

“We’ll be fine. The car is good shelter. And the wheels are still on it, so we’re good from lightening. Go on. Just let me get our stuff.”

Falcon gathered the small amount of items and the wind that whipped about had a chill to it. He was fearful of being out in the open. Using his foot, he kicked dirt and doused the small fire while saying a prayer. “Please, God, let this be a small one.”

Arms full, fire out, Falcon rushed to the car as the storm grew louder. He tossed the items inside then hurried to the Vike. He fought against the whipping wind to secure the canvas and he double checked that the horse was secure to the car. “Sorry, pal,” he said to the horse. “I hate to do this to you. But hopefully it’ll pass.”

He gave a soothing pat to the horse and ran to the car. The back doors were closed and he made the children get in the back seat and he huddled there with them. The seat was falling apart, but better than up front. The driver’s door wouldn’t close all the way.

The noise of the storm was deafening and he could see the looks of fear on his children’s faces. Belle seemed numb to it, still trying to play with Lilly’s hair.

“We’ll be fine,” Falcon said. “We’ll be …”

Pat.

Pat. Pat.

It started slowly. Little tapping sounds at first and then it continued, growing louder and faster.

“Dad?” Josh asked.

“Oh, my God.” Emotionally the words seeped from him. “Oh, my God. It’s raining.” Excitedly he turned around, placed both hands to Josh’s cheeks and squeezed. “It’s raining!” he kissed him then turned to Lilly. “It’s raining!” He kissed her as well and then followed with a kiss to Belle. “It’s raining Belle. Rain!”

Both the children started to cheer. Lilly’s hand shot to her mouth and she played her enthusiasm with the highest dramatics.

“Can we go out in it?” Josh asked. “Please. Can we?”

“Not yet,” Falcon said. "When the thunder and lightning stops, you can.” Falcon’s heart pounded in his chest. His arms grabbed for his children and he brought them close as he lifted his eyes. “God, forget what I said about making this a small one. Make it big. Make it long.” He closed his eyes with gratefulness bringing his family into him. “Thank you for the rain.”

12.  Home

It would take a lot more than a night of rain to end the drought, but Falcon knew if his farm took a rain pounding like they did on the side of the road, then it would do wonders for the wells. And a little replenishing would go a long way to work a piece of land for a late planting of something other than tobacco. There was coolness in the morning air that Falcon hadn’t felt in a long time. It also had a fresh smell, a much needed fresh smell.

The night before, Josh and Lilly had danced in the rain, while Falcon held Belle inside the car.

Her cough had worsened and as soon as the sky began to lighten Falcon headed home.

He couldn’t figure it out. Belle wasn’t fevered and she wasn’t fussy.

Actually, she giggled, and not far from Landen, she was playfully restless, jumping and reaching until she had to stop to cough.

By the time they pulled into town, Belle had gotten tired. She lay on the backseat, her head resting in Josh’s lap, her feet on Lilly. It was ironic, before they found Belle, Josh and Lilly were engrossed with a treasure that was Falcon’s, and now on the journey they had found their own treasure.

That was fine. Belle was a great treasure to find.

Town was buzzing and it wasn’t ration or barter day. People moved about, placing their hands in the few remaining puddles, splashing themselves with water and smiling as if it were the greatest thing in the world.

At that point in time, it was great.

Falcon saw Bill Gleece standing outside the barter stop. He watched people; perhaps it was a form of entertainment for him.

He stopped in front of Bill.

“Hey, there, Falcon,” Bill said. “Glad you made it back safely. Did you get what you went for?”

“Yes, sir,” Falcon said. “Give you a full report to update your maps.”

“I see you got a little more.” Bill nodded at Belle. “Where did you find her?”

“In Louisville.”

“Weren’t you the one that said you weren’t taking in anymore people?”

“Yeah, I make exceptions. Where’s your wife, Bill?” Falcon asked. “The baby is sick and I’m a little worried.”

“I can see that. Malnutrition pretty bad,” Bill said. “Actually she’s on your property tending to Lea.”

“She didn’t have the babies, did she? They’d be early.”

“No, just routine,” Bill said. “She’s up there.”

“Thanks, and I’ll be back to see you shortly.” Falcon gave a snap of the reins to resume moving.

“Want me to go get Mrs. Gleece for you?” Josh asked.

“Yeah, that’d be good. I’ll drop you off by Chad’s and head up to the house,” Falcon said.

“I’ll run real fast.” Josh told him.

“I’d appreciate that.” Falcon guided them to the property. James was out front keeping watch, and opened the gate for them. He called out a welcome to Falcon as they rode by.

Falcon would have stopped to talk, but he really wanted to drop off Josh and get Mrs. Gleece.

Chad’s property was about ten yards off the driveway and Falcon brought the Vike to a stop. Chad was out front of the trailer smoking a cigarette. He waved with a wide grin.

“Look, there’s Chad.” Falcon pointed.

“Dad,” Josh called out softly.

“Tell Mrs. Gleece …”

“Dad…”

“That if she needs me to come down, I will,” Falcon continued.

“Dad.”

“What is it?” Falcon asked and then turned to the back seat.

Josh only lifted his eyes. “Something is wrong with Belle.”

Immediately, Falcon felt his blood flow thorough his veins. It ran hot and he could feel it all the way to his face. His cheeks burned, his chest felt heavy and his ears filled with a rushing sound of his own heart beat.

He jumped from this seat and to the back seat.

“Daddy?” Lilly whimpered out. “What’s wrong with Belle?”

“Dad.” Josh’s eyes welled and his mouth pouted.

Falcon bit his lip, held up a finger then reached in for Belle. A painful, aching moan, seeped from his gut, up his chest and into his throat the second he lifted Belle and her lifeless body flopped in his arms.

“Daddy!” Lilly cried. “Daddy, what happened to Belle!”

“Dad?” Josh whimpered.

Falcon couldn’t think. He couldn’t move.

“Hey, all!” Chad called out, trotting their way. “Glad to see …” He stopped cold.

Falcon spun way, back to Chad, to Lilly to Josh. Both of his children were crying out, crying his name, and asking what was happening.

Falcon held up his hand without looking. His words breathy, “Take them to your house, please, Chad.”

“Sure thing. Come on.”

Falcon heard Chad gathering the children, telling them their father would be right with them and they needed to go with him.

He heard that, but it was faint. His ears were clogged with a rushing sound.

Mouth open in a silent scream, Falcon curled up his arms to bring Belle’s dangling body into his chest. Then holding her to him, he slid back against the Vike until he crumbled on the ground.

How long had it been since he had cried? Really cried? Years? He didn’t even get a chance to cry for Stacy because he was so engrossed in Lilly and Josh.

Falcon was a strong man in spirit and in strength. The entire town knew him as a tower of strength. He kept the farm together, his family and strangers. He never wavered.

But right there on the ground, Falcon didn’t just cry, he sobbed. He sobbed from the depth of his soul from the broken heart he felt over that little girl.

Anguish consumed him.

A mere child, not even three, she didn’t have a chance. She was born into a damned world and her short life was just as damned.

An innocent child didn’t deserve the tortured life she had. Not enough food or water. No home, living outside. Crying and reaching for a mother who had died right next to her, a mother who wouldn’t answer.

Falcon couldn’t even make her life better; he didn’t have the chance. All he could give her were some measly scraps of food and water and that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to save her life or make up for what she never had.

It was then Falcon grew angry at himself. Angry for all the times he felt bad for his children, felt sorry that they never saw green or had a tree, or when they wanted more water and couldn’t have it. He was angry for all the times he cursed God for the life his children had to lead and what they didn’t have.

He was enraged with himself because all along he shouldn’t have been cursing, should not have been feeling sorry for his children. He should have been grateful.

His children weren’t like other children.

Belle was. She was just one of millions of children who would never know a full belly or have their thirst quenched.

His children were the exception to the rule and were fortunate.

He’d remember that. He’d always remember that, and should he forget, he need only to think about the day that Belle passed away.

Outside on the ground, hidden behind the Vike, Falcon held on to Belle. He’d do so before he found his children and buried the baby.

Belle had given him a gift. She showed him more in the day he knew her than he had learned in years of war. She had given him a life lesson, a true realistic view of things. Such an enormous unselfish gift had come in such a small package.

Falcon wanted to hold Belle a little bit longer. It was the least and the last thing he could do for her.