Jeff Carlson - Plague War

She was the only female. She can’t be more than ‚fteen, Cam thought, but if Ed was the leader here, she must be a large part of the in†uence that he commanded, simply by being under his control. King and princess. She would be the magnet at the center, holding all the boys, and her role only would have grown during their long isolation. Cam wondered how Ed had managed to keep the peace all this time — why there was no baby. It sounded like he’d taught the boys to call him “Mr. S,” reinforcing the habit of his authority, but they’d all grown older and Cam wondered if the girl still obeyed her father completely or if she’d begun to exert her own power.

Cam was careful not to study her too closely, looking at the boys’ faces instead. The girl had been quiet so far, yet the boys kept glancing at her for her reaction. For approval. That sort of charisma would be a heady feeling for such a young woman, and Cam and Newcombe were about to take it away from her.

That made her dangerous.

* * * *

They had set eight boulders around their ‚re pit, like chairs, inside the larger ring of windbreaks. Brandon and Hiroki gave up their seats for Cam and Newcombe, and Cam ‚nally realized that Brandon was a beta male, possibly because he was the brother of the girl. Cam would have thought Ed’s son would be his right-hand man, but Alex and D Mac appeared to be the lieutenants here.

It was an odd dynamic, but it had been shaped by their circumstances. Ed very likely hadn’t had the energy to spare to groom his son while protecting his daughter, which in turn had given rise to Alex and D Mac as those two worked to prove themselves and eventually dominated the rest. Brandon just didn’t have the same goal or motivation. More than that, he might have put himself in danger if he’d fought to keep a place near the top of pack. A king and a princess did not need a prince to stand with them, they needed knights.

“It’s not much,” Ed apologized, as Brandon handed over two battered plastic canteens. Then he fetched two aluminum cups full of berries and roots. Cam had also seen a small pot and a crude canvas bag heaped with grasshopper carapaces. There was a smooth rock for mashing the bugs, along with tree bark and fresh tufts of weeds and moss, but Brandon had held back the insects and the weeds on his own initiative, offering their best instead.

“I have something, too,” Newcombe said, rummaging through his jacket. From one pocket he came up with a spare notepad, which he gave to Ed. From another he produced a colorful sixteen-ounce packet of Berry Storm Gatorade powder.

Most of the boys cheered. “Oh, fuck yeah!” Alex said. Even the girl smiled.

Ed let them mix up the sweet red powder. The girl and a few of the boys choked theirs down immediately — the sports drink was loaded with salts and sugar — but Brandon drank his in sips with his eyes closed and Alex held on to his for later, demonstrating remarkable control.

“So how did you get here?” Newcombe asked.

“What? Where did you— ” Mike began, but Alex shushed him and said, “Tell ’em, Mr. S.”

Ed Sevcik nodded, recognizing like Alex that Newcombe’s question was a test. He understood that Newcombe and Cam had the ability to get up and leave. “We were snowshoe camping,” Ed said, gesturing back down into the west. “Me and the boys, my wife, and Samantha.” He touched his shirt absently and the three square patches stitched onto his chest. 4. 1. 9. A troop number.

The girl was indeed sister and daughter to Brandon and Ed. Samantha and her mother had also been avid hikers and ‚shermen, and they’d tagged along for a week in the snow with the Scout troop. Ed was a roofer and usually worked straight through every summer, so the annual camping trip had doubled as a family vacation for years. His wife liked to say it beat the heck out of standing in two-hour lines at Disneyland. All of the kids were glad to skip school even if it meant extra homework afterward. Sam got to bring her iPod. Brandon had merit badges far ahead of his age. Both he and Alex had achieved the rank of Eagle Scout before the plague, and by Ed’s estimation all of the boys — and Samantha — had long since quali‚ed for Eagle Scout themselves.

They’d reached these low, tiny islands with three people they didn’t know, Ed said honestly, when he could have lied. Cam didn’t ask about the unlikely statistics. Why was it only the three strangers and Ed’s wife who were dead? Either someone made a move for the girl or her mother, or someone started cheating with the food. Cam had committed murder himself for all the right reasons, and anyway the killing was long done.

The Scouts were perfect to help spread the vaccine, Cam thought, and it wasn’t such a coincidence that he and Newcombe and Ruth had found this able group. No one else could have survived on these miniscule patches of ground.

“We need your help,” Newcombe said, as he explained about the vaccine and the ‚ght for control of it.

Ed and his wolf pack were aware of the sudden air war. At ‚rst, the surge of jets and helicopters had ‚lled them with wild hope. They’d wanted to believe that a massive rescue effort was ‚nally underway, but the batteries for their little radio had faded more than a year ago and they had only been able to guess who was ‚ghting and why.

“You want us to go out there,” Ed said uncertainly when Newcombe was done, but his son was more ready to get away.

“We know there are people over there,” Brandon said, pointing across a narrow valley to the east. “We’ve seen smoke on two of those mountains.”

At the same time, Samantha ‚nally spoke up. “It doesn’t look like your vaccine works very well,” she said, gazing at Cam. “I’m sorry. I just have to say that.”

“All of this happened before we got the nanotech,” Cam explained, gesturing at his face, but it was no accident that he’d kept his gloves on, hiding his hands.

“The vaccine works,” Newcombe said.

“This will be the most important thing you ever do,” Cam said, meeting Brandon’s eyes for an instant before turning to Alex and D Mac. They were the ones he really wanted, but D Mac was frowning and Alex seemed uncharacteristically quiet.

Alex was waiting for Samantha and her father, even as D Mac made his ‚rst small break from them.

“How do we get it?” D Mac said. “I mean, is it a needle?” he asked, and then Brandon and Mike ‚lled the circle with words, leaning forward as they competed to be heard.

“So you’re on the rebel side—”

“—but how do we know—”

“You have a duty,” Newcombe told them.

“I’m not sure we want any part of this war,” Ed said, and Cam understood. The man had seen these children through the entire plague year. His paternal instincts would be cut deep in him. He must have given up any hope of changing things and begun to plan through the grim, impossible chore of enduring in this place, breeding his daughter with each of the boys.

They’d surely talked about it — their limited genetics, the maximum population this string of islands could sustain. Cam couldn’t see how else it would have played out. Ed must have used the promise of her to keep them patient until Samantha was old enough not to complicate her childbirth, and somehow their discipline had held. He’d done well, but now it was ‚nished.

“You go or you don’t get the vaccine,” Newcombe said. “I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be.”

“We’re not asking you to ‚ght anyone,” Cam said.

“You are,” Ed said. “They’re looking for you. They’ll look for us, too.”

“You’re still Americans,” Newcombe said. “You can be a part of that again. Just help us spread the nanotech. That’s all we want. Just help a few people like we helped you.”