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“How far back have we been sent? We still have the technology but not the population. Can we organize towns around an industry? And if we did so, would it be a good place to live?”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
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TED LISTENED TO THE slap of the windshield wipers and tried to relax. An air of tension pervaded the van, but he wasn’t sure of the source. It felt good to be on the road. And he had to admit that traveling in a motorized vehicle had great advantages. They’d already covered an amazing amount of territory.
Istvan was true to his word. He knew the roads. Wisp pointed in a direction, and Istvan found a way to get there. Although traveling this fast, Ted had no way to assess the area. There might be children that would have come to him, but no opportunity for them to suss him out. He regretted that. But maybe on the way back, there would be more time. Surely Wisp could sense them hiding out there. His feral children. Urchins.
“What a curious word urchins is. There are street urchins and sea urchins. Which makes no sense at all. If I said, ‘Look there’s an urchin,’ would you think child or seafood? I must look into it.”
Everett chuckled, but the rest of the passengers were quiet.
Istvan drove. Wisp sat shotgun. Everett, Clay and Darrell sat in the next seat with weapons close to hand. They could pile out the side doors, ready to fight at a moment’s notice. Ted wasn’t sure if he found that reassuring or alarming. It did make him feel safer, but it didn’t make him feel comfortable. Ted, Nixie and Jean sat in the next set of seats. The final row had been removed to accommodate the gear, food and more weapons.
As if he’d broken the ice with his peculiar comment, the tension eased away.
“I wonder when it’ll stop raining,” Jean asked.
“Angus said the weather site is still offline on the ether,” Clay offered.
“Dieter wants to get the older kids to build a weather station,” Everett said.
“How well would it work?” Jean asked.
“I dunno, but it’s gotta be better than nothing.” Everett said. “If they could at least rig a barometer, that would help a little. Wind direction, that’d be good, too.”
“This rain is wrong,” Istvan muttered.
“Why do you say that?” Jean asked.
“Too long, too soft. We haven’t had weather like this in decades.”
“Does that mean the planet is finally healing?” Ted asked.
Istvan snorted. “I don’t think Mother Earth will be herself for another century. This is just one more step in the journey.”
“Not a good one,” Jean grumbled. “Lottie said if it doesn’t stop raining, we may lose more crops.”
“Right now when we can’t get any train food. Think that’s a coincidence?” Clay asked.
“Stop.” Wisp’s voice cut through the conversation like a sword through cake.
The passengers fell silent. Ted felt guilty that his comment had started the chatting, and now he’d annoyed his brother.
“The van. Stop the van,” Wisp clarified.
Istvan hit the brakes lurching them all forward. He looked around. “Should I pull over?”
“Wait here.” Wisp hopped out of the van into the drizzle.
“Where’s he going?” Clay demanded.
“He needs to be away from people to search properly,” Ted said. He knew that to be true, and stated it with as much certainty as he could muster.
Istvan turned around to view the passengers. “How does he do it?”
Ted bit his lip. This wasn’t territory he felt safe in. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I asked him once, but he said it was too hard to explain.”
“He can feel people,” Everett said. “When we were in trouble, caught in the flood, he knew we needed help. Brought Nick and some other men down to help us get the wagon out of the mud. They didn’t have to do that. Scared the pants off of me that they were some kind of raiders gonna take what little we had left.” He nodded as though agreeing with thoughts not yet spoken. “Nick and him, good people.”
“We never questioned him,” Jean added. “We just accepted that he could find anyone. He warned us a couple times about raiders. Rounded up the fisherman and kids out playing. Brought everybody in so they wouldn’t get...” her voice ran down. “And even when he was working another job, far away, he came back for us when things got bad.”
The door opened making everyone jump. Ted wondered if some of that was guilt because he was pretty sure Wisp would know they’d been talking about him.
“There’s a settlement up on the left that I’d prefer to avoid,” Wisp said, as he pulled the door shut. Water beaded up on his wool sweater and darkened his pale hair. “Can you cut right along here?”
They spent the rest of the day traveling. The sun went down behind thick gray banks of clouds, making the light seem to fade by the minute. Ted worried about finding a camp for the night. They couldn’t sleep in their seats in the van.
Istvan took them down a bumpy unpaved lane, splashing mud out of ruts. Trees leaned over the way, laden with raindrops. Branches brushed against the sides of the van with a shushing noise. Ted peered out the windshield seeing little in the headlights but more narrow, rough road. He was starting to doze when Wisp mumbled something. The van turned, then stopped, and the door opened letting in cool, damp air.
The headlights depicted a ramshackle barn.
“This’ll do us for tonight,” Wisp announced.