7
They made camp beside the stream. Abigail walked around a bend in the creek to wash while Kevin gathered firewood. Marsh sent Zeke back for clothes that would fit the former deputy, as he did not want Kevin returning to Overpass in his uniform. While Caleb tended the horses, the sheriff ate a cold meal and talked in low tones with Marsh.
Finally Gus said his farewells, lingering for a few quiet words with his former deputy. Then he climbed into the saddle of a fresh mount, promised Caleb the horse would be waiting for them when they arrived in Overpass, and set off. Kevin stared down the road long after the sheriff was out of sight.
Abruptly fatigue swept over Caleb like a blanket. He found a patch of moss growing beneath an ancient elm and stretched out. The last thing he heard was Marsh asking the deputy and his mother to join him by the fire. Caleb knew his father was trying to take the measure of these two strangers. Upon his return, Marsh would need to convince the elders to let them enter.
Caleb fell asleep to the drone of voices.
It seemed as though he was only asleep for a few minutes. Then he awoke to the sound of Maddie screaming his name.
Caleb scrambled to his feet and searched the camp, but all was calm. The sun had not yet reached its zenith, which meant he’d been asleep less than an hour. Zeke was back and stirring a pot set on a cooking stone. Abigail sat on a log talking with Marsh. Clearly no one else had heard anything. But the sense of immense danger did not release him. His heart pounded, his breathing came in tight gasps.
It could only mean one thing.
Kevin walked around a bend in the creek, his hair still dripping wet from bathing. He was dressed in standard enclave garb now—dark trousers held up by suspenders, a collarless homespun shirt with cotton knots for buttons.
Caleb’s father smiled his approval and said, “It’ll take a hard look to recognize you as once being a deputy.”
The words were meant as a compliment, but the young man winced as though he had been struck.
Marsh pretended not to see Kevin’s response. He turned to Caleb and said, “You’re up. Good. Lunch is ready.”
Their meal was a simple one-pot trail stew. There were not enough plates, so Caleb shared with Zeke and Kevin with his mother. Between bites, Marsh continued to ask Abigail about her work as a history teacher and leader of the underground. Caleb tried to pay attention. But with each passing moment, his worries mounted.
He heard Abigail say, “The economic depression that gripped our nation almost a century ago spiraled downward in a series of catastrophic waves. We now know this as the Great Crash, but few people have any idea what that truly means. They look around and see shadows of the past, but without any understanding of who we once were and what we should be aspiring to retrieve.”
Marsh replied mildly, “Hard for people to dream about tomorrow when they’re struggling to survive today.”
“That works perfectly well as an excuse, one I’ve heard all too often in my classroom,” she replied crisply. “But it doesn’t change a thing. We have lost sight of our greatness. We have plunged into a new dark age without any idea of what that actually means. Our only hope, our one possibility of lifting ourselves free of this tragic time, lies in remembering the best of who we once were and striving to regain what we have now lost.”
Marsh set a battered coffeepot on the stones lining the fire. Caleb gathered up the plates and walked to the edge of the stream. As he scrubbed them with sand, he heard Marsh ask, “What was the best thing about what we’ve forgotten?”
“The twin visions of democracy and rule of law,” she replied without hesitation. “The two go hand in hand. Democracy means government by the people, of the people, for the people. Rule of law means all citizens are held to the same legal standards. Wealth and position change nothing before the law. Now we are so locked in this current age, one dominated by scarcity and violence, that we can’t believe things were ever different. We need to wake up once again and resume our quest for greatness as a nation and a people.”
As Caleb returned to the fire, his father said, “I do believe Catawba and our community college will welcome you like the rare gem you are, Professor.”
“Abigail will do me just fine, sir.”
Caleb watched his father pour mugs of coffee and knew he had to talk about Maddie’s silent scream. The thought of revealing yet another component of his secret clenched his stomach tight as a fist. “Pa, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Should we take a walk?”
“No, the others need to hear. Do you recall Maddie Constance?”
“The young lady you were sweet on.” Marsh smiled. “What a question. Her father is a professor now in Atlanta.”
Abigail said, “Atlanta University used to be a shining light of learning and hope through the entire south. I’ve lectured there on a number of occasions and consider many of the staff close friends. Recently it’s all gone dark.”
Marsh said, “Your mother told me you two were writing. She’s been in touch again?”
Caleb took a hard breath. “We’ve never been out of touch, Pa.”
“What are you saying?”
“It started about a year and a half ago. Long before Maddie and her father left. At first I didn’t know what was happening. Now . . .”
Marsh was no longer smiling. “Maddie can read minds?”
“Feelings come easiest to her. And images, like bursts of things she knits together and sends all at once. I can reach out to her, but she has to be listening. It’s all her doing.” This was proving even harder than Caleb had expected. “We’re closer than we’ve ever been. When she thinks of me and I think of her, we bind together.”
His father was as grave as Caleb had ever seen. The dusk and the firelight turned his features cavernous. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”
“Because it’s her gift, not mine. And she asked me not to tell anyone. She discovered her gift soon after the elders came out against the specials. Her father, well . . .”
“He was among those who used the term ‘abominations,’” Marsh recalled.
Caleb nodded. “Maddie’s been taking care of her father ever since her ma died. Her plan was to go down, settle him into his new life, then meet me in Overpass.” Caleb felt the sweat dribbling down his spine, plastering his shirt to his skin. “Something’s happened in Atlanta, though. About a week ago. It’s scared her. A lot.”
Abigail shifted forward. “Did she say what?”
“Her last image was about people who’d arrived from Washington.” The recollection of her fear pained his heart. “They wore dark suits and had helmets that let them detect people like Maddie. Or at least that’s how it seemed. It was the tightest, hardest image she’s ever sent me. And since then, all I get are . . .”
“What?” Marsh demanded.
Caleb wiped his face. “Whimpers.”
Marsh said, “You should have told me, Son.”
“I couldn’t, Pa. She made me promise.”
Marsh studied his son across the fire. “Tell us about these whimpers.”
“Since the Washington folks showed up, I’ve still been able to reach out and connect with her. But I knew she didn’t want me there, so I’d only bond with her for a second. Long enough for her to know I’m there—and worried. Then just now Maddie woke me from my sleep with a scream. Something I’ve never heard before, and hope I never do again.” Caleb felt feverish, sweating and shivering both. “Now she’s not there. It’s the first time I haven’t been able to find her since she discovered her gift. She’s gone. And I don’t know what to do.”