Lethal Seasons (A Changed World Book 1) (7 page)

Feeling more out of his depth than he had since his first days in the FBI, he made a choice. “High Meadow.”

“After rumors and accusations of cults and gangs restraining people to inflate numbers, the government declared that settlements must go through an approval process in order to receive food and medicine allotments. That drove fringe groups further away.”

History of a Changed World
, Angus T. Moss

Fighting the surges of raw emotion from the back of the van, Wisp tried to turn his attention to finding a safe route to High Meadow. His head pounded with the waves of grief pouring over him. For a moment he floundered, awash in the raging anger and sorrow. His vision blurred and his heart raced until he could shore up his mental defenses. Turning into himself, he strengthened the imaginary walls he had built to trigger the mental exercises he had perfected. As each granite block came clearer in his mind, the turmoil around him faded. When he was done, the world felt grayed out, at distance, everything a shade less real without his ability to know what lay under the surface. He hid his unease as he uploaded the destination into the mapping program. The system responded by superimposing a route over a map of the area. “The most reliable roads,” he told Nick.

“Thanks.”

He didn’t need his talent to see the doubt and confusion in Nick. Like many adults, he felt he should trust the feelings of children. That Lily trusted Wisp, made Nick want to trust also. Unlike many adults, Nick seemed to be more discerning. He had a strong skepticism that kept him from blindly following such inclinations. Wisp approved of that sentiment. Very few people were trustworthy. And Lily was too naive. Nick was a survivor. Wisp approved of that, too.

But Nick would also care for those who could not protect themselves. That could be a liability. If they encountered these soldiers in greater numbers, Nick might be willing to sacrifice himself for the safety of the others. Wisp did a threat-survival assessment of Nick and himself against various configurations of attackers with the women and children as noncombatants. The results left him hoping that none of those scenarios would occur. It might be best for him to leave at this point. Considering all the factors, the possibility of more deadly encounters was high and Nick’s skills were unknown.

Adding to that, he had already broken every law on the books for biobots. Not that anyone was still enforcing those laws. But the fact that he had a van full of witnesses made him nervous. He had been running from the authorities all of his short life. The instinct to stay out of sight was deeply ingrained. Whenever he stayed too long in one place, or tried to trust someone, people came looking for him as a finder. Once that happened, inevitably someone tried to kill him for simply being a biobot. It always came down to the base fact that he wasn’t considered human.

Lily brought him a selection of packaged food. “Look Wisp,” she said, confusion clear in her voice. “All differed kinds of train food. Do different stations have different stuff? “ She shuffled them and handed him one with an orange wrapper. “Try this one.”

“All stations stock Crunch and Stew-goo,” he said as he ripped open the package. “These are for the soldiers.” Inside was another type of dough pocket. This time filled with white cheese and ground meat. He broke off a piece for Lily. She glared at the food skeptically before consenting to accept it.

She chewed with a frown scrunching up her forehead. “It’s different, but I think it’s okay.”

He offered her the rest of it. “No, you should eat,” she offered wisely. He had to agree. His head ached almost as much as the bullet wound in his arm, and it was sure to be a long night ahead.

Thinking of Lily, Wisp decided he would stay with them for a while, if only to be sure that she and William were taken care of. And the Riverbank people had been good to him over the years. He would miss those that had been killed. Some of the grief tried to rise again, but he pushed back at it. There was no time for that now. Later, when the children were safe, he could think about how many people Riverbank had lost. Nearly the whole settlement gunned down to find a little girl. If he had known what was happening, he would have returned sooner. For all the kindnesses over the years, he owed it to Bruno to make sure that his few remaining people were safe. Then he could leave. Should leave.

As Nick drove, Wisp went into the back to help them settle in. He gave out blankets and water. Lily had already distributed food. Only the children, Tom and Lucy, were eating. Margaret, their mother, and Jean were trying not to cry in front of them. Their pale faces and swollen eyes told Wisp enough. Grief would steal their appetites, close their throats and knot their stomachs. Maybe in the morning he would try to make them eat, but now it was pointless. He took the packages from limp fingers and put them back in the food locker. Jean gave him a teary nod. Margaret sat staring into space.

Wisp sorted the supplies he’d taken from the other van and stowed them. He checked on the medical supplies, then gave the injured a look. Bruno was still unconscious. He knew it was an unkind thought, but Wisp was glad for one less spill of emotions. William felt just on the edge of consciousness.

Jean knelt down next to him. “What can I do to help?” This close, he couldn’t avoid her emotions. She was angry and scared, but the top note was sorrow.

Wisp handed her antiseptic and gauze. “Can you bind the wounds?”

Her fear eased back with a task in hand. “Will he be okay?”

“Bruno is strong,” Wisp said, avoiding the obvious. The man probably had broken bones and internal injuries. Like William, Bruno’s outcome depended on the kind of medical treatment they could find at High Meadow. If they survived the journey.

Tom’s fear dropped out as he fell asleep. Lucy and Lily followed almost immediately. After food, warmth and safety had been supplied, they collapsed into sleep. Margaret’s grief flowed out in silent tears, edging her toward sleep also. With the level of raw emotion sinking, Wisp went back up front to think. Margaret’s mind went quiet with sleep. He allowed his granite walls to soften and the internal workings of Jean and Nick solidified.

“Can you tell if we’re being followed?” Nick asked.

Wisp rubbed his eyes. “That’s not something I can do.”

Nick’s distrust flickered up and down, a sign of internal debate. As Wisp waited it out, he engaged the controls and did a locational radar search, originally designed to track traffic. He reported the results to Nick. “According to this, no one is following us, or ahead of us for a good ten miles. There aren’t any usable roads that run parallel of us along this stretch. I haven’t seen aircraft in...two years.”

That got a spike of surprise from Nick. “You saw a plane two years ago?”

“It was a helicopter.”

“Huh.” Nick’s uneasiness leaned toward curiosity. “Where?”

“Big military base in Texas.”

The curiosity soared for a moment before twisting into caution. “Was it American military?”

Wisp approved of his wariness. “Is there another?”

Nick made a point of looking around the van. “Seems like it.”

“These men were well armed, but not well trained. I don’t think they are connected to the base I saw. Different uniforms. Private security perhaps.”

Nick’s distrust became more focused. “I agree with you about the training. But just because they’re sloppy, doesn’t mean there aren’t a lot of them.”

“Harder to control larger numbers of men without better discipline. We may have eliminated the major part of the group.”

“Or just a patrol,” Nick said sourly. He leaned forward, peering through the windshield. “Is that fog?”

Wisp caught the scent at almost the same time. “Smoke.” He pointed. “Look at the sky.” Ahead of them an orange glow painted low clouds bright against the night sky.

Nick slowed the van. “The fire in Clarkeston must have jumped.” As they crept forward, the smoke got worse. “We can’t go this way.”

“We can’t go back.”

“The government conscripted a number of labs and set them to working on a vaccine. It wasn’t until the fourth year that they were able to distribute them widely. The clinics with the vaccine were swamped. People traveled miles in dangerous conditions to get treated. The few remaining hospitals were overrun. The next year, new rules were laid out establishing the med centers.”

History of a Changed World
, Angus T. Moss

Tilly made sure that Susan had dinner underway before she started looking for Martin. She didn’t have to go far. He sat at his usual table in the corner of the cafeteria, papers and notebook in front of him, sipping a cup of something. She frowned. Probably coffee. He was probably drinking more than his fair share. Again.

“Martin?”

He looked up guiltily, and she knew she’d been right about the coffee. “Tilly. Problem?” He gave her a sheepish look, his big brown eyes twinkling with warmth.

Despite wanting to give him another lecture on sneaking coffee, she knew that was the least of their troubles right now. She sat down across from him, so she could keep her voice low. “What did Nick tell you about the murder?”

“That there was one?” He answered lightly, but a muscled jumped in his jaw.

“I have reason to believe he might be in trouble.”

“He’s armed.”

Tilly felt a bit better hearing that. And Nick was trained in law enforcement, so he should be able to take care of himself, but something about this situation had her nerves on edge. “I don’t want to overreact,” she said carefully.

Martin’s eyes widened. He could read her almost as well as her husband. “Have we got a problem?” His voice remained carefree despite the scrutiny he gave her.

“Nick brought home some notebooks. Angus thinks they are very important.” Martin’s face changed, the warmth dropping out. Tilly saw the cold, efficient soldier underneath. Martin had become so playful lately that she forgot how rigid he’d been when he arrived. He was one of the first people Angus had recruited. Tilly never asked why Angus chose the people he did. Most of the time, they were a perfect match. Very few had failed, and those that had usually left of their own accord. Martin had been a quandary for her. He was obviously a soldier, probably the only remaining member of his platoon or troop or whatever they were called. The shadows in his eyes made her heart ache for him. He’d surely seen more than his share of horrors. But Angus had chosen right. Martin loved this community, and Tilly knew he would protect it with his life.

“Important enough to get the girl killed?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m worried about Nick, but...”

“But what if he was followed?” Martin finished her thought.

“We should prepare—”

“If he was followed, they’d already be here, Tilly.” Martin cut her off with a shake of his head. “They would have been right behind him.”

She shivered at the thought. “Not if they went back for reinforcements.”

Martin gave her an indulgent nod. “If it been me, I’d’ve hit him before he got back here. If they scouted us out, they’d know our strengths and to be perfectly honest, Tilly, they wouldn’t need reinforcements.”

“But if they came...”

Martin looked around the room, but from the look in his eyes, Tilly knew his thoughts were on manpower and placement. “We have some options.”

She took a shaky breath. She didn’t want to be right. “If we closed the storm shutters...”

“They aren’t bomb-proof, but they could act as a last defense.”

Tilly didn’t like hearing those words−last defense. The knot in her stomach tightened. “Should we bring in the animals?”

Martin rubbed forefinger and thumb together in small circles, eyes on the table as he thought. “We need to drop the security gates in the tunnels and maybe barricade them. We can bring the chickens and horse into the small garage. That has a good solid door on it. Any idea what kind of people we’re expecting?”

Tilly shook her head. “I’m not even sure if anyone is coming. It just seems prudent to prepare.”

“I’ll see how long it’ll take to set it all up. When we put up the shutters, we’ll lose the sunlight. It’ll scare people.”

Tilly looked up as a group of children arrived with a giggling clatter to check the menu board. She knew all their names. The littlest had been the first child born here. Up until now, the center had only had to deal with a handful of bandits that the Watch had easily run off just by showing up armed and determined. Her people were in danger, and this time she didn’t know how best to protect them. She stiffened her spine and tried to think as the Lady she pretended to be. Her castle was in danger of...attack? What would make the most sense? The answer came to her—prepare for a siege.

“Let’s get the animals moved and the tunnels barricaded first. Do we need to worry about water and power?” Martin gave her an approving look that made her cheeks flush.

“Access to the power plant and water system is under this building. As long as we are secure, so are they. If we aren’t, don’t think we’ll have time to worry.”

“What about the children?”

“There’s the big storm shelter three floors down. I’ll take a look, but I think it has a couple of access points. If we shut down all but one, it would be easily defensible. We can evacuate the kids and elderly there if there’s a breach.”

“Let’s make that a plan. I will announce it at dinner. We can run a drill tomorrow.” Tilly nodded, checklists piling up in her head. “I’ll have the gardeners bring in everything that’s close to ready. We should send someone for a cartload of train food, just in case.”

“Will do.” Martin scooped up all his papers. “I’ll increase patrols. Excuse me, I need to talk to the Watch.” He tucked everything under his arm, gave her a slight bow and left.

Tilly blew out a sigh of relief. Talking to Martin had been the right choice. He hadn’t questioned her, or accused her of panic. He’d just taken it all in and responded with action. Now that preparations were in the works, she felt better. They had a plan. She could only hope that they would have enough time to get ready.