B. Larson - Shifting

Doc Wilton mumbled a few words and then Mrs. H. told us a story or two she knew about the victims. She finished up with an ominous note.

“We lost two citizens to a single bedeviled tree, yet we are surrounded by countless thousands of trees. We must be stronger of spirit and wiser of mind to survive this trial as our ancestors survived such dark times before us. May they both rest in peace.”

We mumbled Amen , and filled in the shallow holes.

The Captain slid into a chair next to me in the cafeteria. It had been more of a break station, but we’d set up some propane stoves and a store of supplies and tables, making it the eatery we all shared. Monika was gone, and I immediately suspected that he’d waited until I was alone to come talk to me.

I sighed for a moment and nodded to him over my cup of coffee. It was all the greeting I could muster.

“Nothing takes it out of you like burying a friend,” he said in the tone of someone quoting a proverb.

I nodded again.

“Burned out?” he asked.

“It’s been a long day.”

“Going to spend another night in these walls?”

I looked at him. He seemed tense, which was normal for him. “What’d you have in mind?”

He leaned forward, close, a bit too close. I tolerated it with difficulty.

“I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?” I demanded, annoyed with him. I had almost said, “Well, go then.”

“You’ve got a traitor in your midst.”

I sucked in a heavy breath and let it out. I blinked, almost rolled my eyes. Imagine that, the Captain had a conspiracy theory. Suddenly, I found I couldn’t take this guy anymore. Today had been too much, I was beyond humoring this nut. I leaned up to his ear. “I know,” I said, “I know that little girl Holly is really one of them .”

He pulled back from me and gave me a strange look. I enjoyed it. For just a second, I was the nut with the crazy theory upsetting him. It didn’t last.

He jumped up angrily and stomped out.

“Ah, come on,” I called after him. “You’ve got to hang on to a sense of humor, man.” Even as I said it, I realized I wasn’t sure that the Captain even had a sense of humor. There had never been any evidence of it.

I watched him go and sat there a few seconds, sipping my coffee. Screw him, I thought. But after a few more moments, a sense of urgency came over me. What if he really did know something? Muttering curses, I followed him.

I found him outside, standing beside the fallen tree. I realized he had been waiting for me. He’d known I would follow. The sun had already dropped down low in the horizon, it must have been late afternoon. He poked at the tree gingerly with his M4. Wisps of smoke still rose from the trunk.

“Okay,” I said. “Tell me.”

He cocked his head and stared at me for a moment. “Gannon, you and your little tribe here are doomed.”

I just stared at him, waiting for more.

“All you are doing is reacting, playing defense. It is a losing strategy in the long run. Normally, I wouldn’t care, but I don’t think I can make it through this alone.”

“So we are marginally useful to you. That’s nice. So what else should we be doing?”

He ignored my barb. “You can’t win a war without an offense. And you can’t mount an offense without intel. I’m suggesting we need to go scouting. You and me.”

I nodded. “The Preacher had the same thing in mind. We’ve been a bit busy these last few days, however. What about the other thing?”

“The traitor?” he said, nodding. “Yes…”

He walked around the tree to the midsection. He tapped the tree with the muzzle of his rifle. “I talked to a few people about what happened here, and about what else has been happening. You had three riflemen on the flyers, right? Two shots hit, one missed. They fired again, and all three shots hit, but one of them hit the tree right in the face, essentially.”

I examined the spot he was tapping at. There was a grooved streak across the blackened trunk. I suppose it could have been the spot the bullet that had awakened the creature had hit.

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?” I demanded. “You are suggesting it was done on purpose? Look, someone just panicked or just plain screwed the pooch and shot the tree. We aren’t pros here.”

He nodded. “I thought about that. It’s a plausible cover. But there’s something much more damning.”

“What?” I demanded.

“Have you checked out the good Doctor Wilton’s foot, lately?”

My face fell. I knew right then and there that he had me. I knew too, that no matter how this played out, it could not be good for anyone.

I didn’t want to do it, that’s what it came down to. It was like firing your favorite Auntie, but far, far worse than that. I felt like the traitor, not Wilton. I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t true, that somehow, the good lady had just been hurt, that’s why she limped. I told myself that anyone could have been depressed by the latest events, and that we shouldn’t give in to the witch-burning mentality. Then, of course, I had to wonder… Had they been burning real witches in Salem? Had they done it all not out of hysteria, but out of reasoned desperation? History had always been unkind to people in our situation. We were brutes, performing great evils by misplacing our fears.

The Captain was watching me coldly. I’m sure he knew my thoughts, but seemed to have no compassion for them. What had he done in his own dark past to be so cool now? Had he dragged half-sleeping men out of their tents in the night and executed them in the blowing sands of some forsaken desert? Had all feelings of guilt been burned out of his soul long since? I didn’t know, but I did know, as he watched me, that nothing I did would surprise him.

“Why aren’t you urging me to drag her out here and yank her boots off and cut her down if she’s hiding something in there?”

The Captain shrugged. “This is your show. You invited me here. It’s your play, kid.”

I looked at him, not sure if I should feel better or worse. “What if I decide to do nothing?”

He shook his head. “You won’t be able to do that. You’re a man of action. It will drive you nuts.”

That was true enough. Just thinking about it for five minutes had left me torn up inside and I couldn’t imagine trying to sleep without resolving this. Without knowing .

“What do you think the others will do?”

The Captain lit a cigarette. As far as I knew, he was the last smoker in Indiana, unless you counted Monika, who had only smoked once since I’d met her. “I don’t know. Most of them will follow your lead, whatever you do. But some, they might just go for her. Like that Mrs. Hatchell. There’s cold steel in that woman’s eyes.”

“What should we do with her, assuming it’s true? We should know ahead of time how we are going to handle it.”

He nodded. “Good thinking. As I see it there are three choices. You put a bullet in her head, or you exile her, or…”

“Or what?”

“Or, maybe, since most of her is human, you chop off the offending piece.”

I snorted and shook my head. “I’m not going to start chopping parts off of people.”

“Well, from our point of view, it’s the best way.”

“And why is that?” I demanded.

“We need her. She’s our medical personnel, all of them wrapped in one package. The only way the others will accept her-and this is a maybe-is if she’s minus whatever is in that boot of hers.”

I actually thought about it for a minute before shaking my head. “I just can’t see it. It’s insane.”

He shrugged. “So which of the other two choices do you prefer?”