William Dietz - The Seeds of Man

Much to Lora’s surprise, the answer made sense. It was risky, however, because there was a chance that the party would be attacked before the training took place, but at least the leavers had given the matter some thought.

So Lora said good night and went over to the area where the single females were going to sleep and got ready for bed. Fortunately it was warm inside the sleeping bag and it wasn’t long before Lora fell asleep.

Morning came quickly, and when it did most of the leavers rose in a good mood, eager to tackle the task ahead. Many ate hearty breakfasts, but Lora was the exception. Some of the adults thought the party would find food along the way, but Lora had seen the inside of the restaurant and thought that a substantial find was unlikely. She consumed half of what she wanted to, stored the rest of her breakfast in her pack, and spent the rest of the time adjusting her pack and getting used to the snowshoes.

Once the group was ready to go, Fry led them out. He had two people with him at all times. Their job was to break trail while learning whatever they could from the ex-protector, who, truth be told, hadn’t been trained for cross-country hikes. In fact, according to Lora’s analysis, the only thing Fry could teach them was how to use firearms. And once the rest of the adults acquired that knowledge, they would be as skilled as he was. Still, most of the leavers seemed to take comfort in the myth that Fry could protect them, and that was good for morale.

As the leavers left the barn, they stepped into bright sunshine, which was rare due to all the smoke and particulate matter thrown up into the atmosphere by the nuclear war five decades earlier. So the clear weather seemed like a good omen, and even Lora felt a sense of optimism as they set out. Not counting the trip in the Sno-Cat, and brief journeys to and from it, this was the first time she’d been outside the Sanctuary. She delighted in the cold, crisp air, the crunching sound that her snowshoes made as they broke through crusty snow, and all the wild vegetation. Wherever Lora looked, there were trees, bushes, and a wide variety of plants, all growing in a random manner. It was very different from the strictly controlled environment she was used to.

She’d seen pictures, of course, but the foliage looked greener, the ice crystals embedded in the top layer of snow glittered like tiny diamonds, and the sky was a beautiful blue. Up front she could see Fry, accompanied by her father and Don Beck, both armed with rifles. Then came Ed Dero and Jon Gore, carrying a trunk full of seeds on what amounted to a litter. Tim Hobbs and Ralph Kilmer were right behind them with a second box. Because each container weighed a hundred pounds, both men were carrying fifty pounds in addition to their packs. That made it difficult for them to match the pace of the people who weren’t carrying an extra burden.

Meanwhile, Lora was stepping on her own snowshoes. Gradually she discovered that it was necessary to adopt a wider stance. That helped, but there were slippery spots and places where it was necessary to negotiate obstacles. Lora began to watch for small trees that could be used to make trekking poles.

Then, as the road began to rise, the group was forced to use the traction devices on the bottom of their snowshoes and the pace slowed. Shortly thereafter the rotations started, and Lora and three adult women were brought forward to carry a seed box.

Lora didn’t mind carrying her share of the load but could tell that some of the older women were struggling, and she thought she knew why. It wasn’t the weight so much as the need to stay in step with each other. Something to think about.

Clouds gradually moved in to block the sun, and what originally seemed like fun became a grueling march. Three hours later, when the group arrived at what had been a combination gas station and country store, all of them were ready for a rest. The complex had been looted so many times that all the windows were broken, the shelves were empty, and the gas pumps were riddled with bullet holes. Still, it was a place to pause, and people went every which way looking for places to sit and eat.

Lora took the opportunity to seek out her father. He was sitting on a seed trunk next to Cassie, and as they looked up at her, the two adults wore guilty expressions, like kids caught raiding a cookie jar. Lora felt the usual sense of resentment but pushed it away. Her father desired some happiness, and if that meant Cassie, then so be it. Lora would get out of the way. “Hey, Lora,” George said awkwardly. “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” Lora replied, “but I think some people are struggling.”

George nodded. “You’re right. We’re out of shape.”

“That’s true,” Lora agreed, “but it’s more than that. The seed boxes are hard to carry.”

George frowned. “We aren’t going to dump the seeds, Lora… not after all we sacrificed to get here.”

“That isn’t what I have in mind,” Lora replied. “My pack is half-empty. So is yours. Why not divvy the seeds up between everyone in the group? Give the men more, younger women a little less, and old people a minimal amount. That would be fair and make it easier to walk through the snow.”

Cassie smiled. “I think Lora’s plan is absolutely brilliant.”

George nodded. “You’re right. She should take the idea to Harvey Nix.”

“No,” Lora said emphatically. “You tell him. He’ll listen to you.”

“She’s right,” Cassie put in. “People will get over the Mackey thing—but it’s still fresh in their minds.”

So George went to see Nix, and after a fifteen-minute discussion, the decision was made. All the leavers were told to empty their packs so that a package of seeds could be placed in the bottom of each. Lora wouldn’t get credit for the idea but didn’t care. It was going to make the trip easier for everyone concerned, and that was the main thing.

Just as the rest of the group finished the process of dividing the seeds, Beck appeared with an armful of poles. While some were made from aluminum tubing and some had been cut from dowels, all had been found in the piles of junk out back. There was a clatter as they spilled onto the ground. “There aren’t enough for everyone,” Beck announced, “but it’s a start. I cut them long so people can whittle them down to the length they need.”

Lora made no attempt to acquire poles for herself, knowing others needed them more, but made a note to keep her eyes peeled. In her opinion, the aluminum tubing looked like the way to go.

By the time it was over, the break had consumed two hours rather than the half hour Nix had envisioned. But having rid themselves of the boxes, and having acquired trekking poles for half the group, the leavers were able to move more quickly than before. The highway wasn’t what it had been fifty years earlier, yet thanks to the fact that the section they were on was flat and straight, it was easy to circumvent the few obstacles they encountered.

It wasn’t long before the group established a regular rhythm in which people went forward to learn about the firearms some of them had been issued, stayed for a while, and were rotated to the back of the column. Lora knew it was important to learn everything she could, so she forced herself into the rotation and was pleased to find that no one objected. Fry had the instructions down by the time she reached him, so it wasn’t long before she understood the difference between a rifle and a shotgun, the advantages of each, and the basics of gun safety.

At about three in the afternoon, they arrived at an intersection where roads came in from the east and west. There were some run-down buildings, some snow-humped cars, and a lot of tracks, all headed south. “It looks as if people are coming together for some reason,” Ed Dero observed. “I wonder what it is?”