Joshua Gayou - Commune - The Complete Series - A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Box Set (Books 1-4)

“And what reason would that be?” Rose demanded.

“Hell, I dunno. S’pose ’twas the same reason George had to pass ’er along.”

“Well, what do you think his reasons were?”

“How do I know? Ask ’im when you see ’im.”

The two girls considered this and discussed the matter only a little further as they traveled. The only thing upon which they could agree without reservation was that the Wendigo was a tragic, miserable creature.

They passed by the snares they’d set on the way back to camp, confirming that all were still set and waiting for some critter to wander by. Lizzy had an urge to go try some of the branches to which they were tied to ensure that they would still work but Lum held her back, stating that all was as it should be and that it was best to let the night go by and give all the nocturnal animals a chance to stick their heads in. He eyed them carefully as they walked through the area, saw that the bait they’d left was still intact, and nodded to himself.

The sun was already embarking on its evening descent when they walked back into camp. Lum said, “Honey, we’re home,” as he settled into his chair.

George smiled at this, marked his place in his book, and placed it in a pouch on the side of the camping chair. He looked them all over and said, “You guys were gone quite a while. Find anything good?”

“We saw the most beautiful deer today!” Rose sighed. “He was just incredible!”

“Big one?” asked George.

“Ish,” said Lum. “Antlers was still growin’, but he looked like he’d have a fine set come end-uh summer.”

“Hmm,” George smiled behind his hand; scratched his chin to hide it.

Lum saw this and said, “Quit it. Just didn’t wanna drag ’im back is all.”

“Of course!”

Lum grimaced, cleared his throat, and poked at the ashes in the fire pit with a stick. “Reckon I’ll get the far goin’ an’ fix up some supper, then…”

“There’s no rush,” George smiled. “We don’t need to spend any time cleaning an animal, so it should be a relatively quick bit of work to get something together.”

Lum broke one of the smaller twigs off the side of the stick and threw it at his friend, where it bounced lightly off his shoulder.

“Y’all c’n go to hell, Oliver.”

“What’s the matter?” Lizzy asked, smiling.

“Nothing,” said George. “Some folks just dislike admitting they have a sweet side.”

“Sweet like black licorice, y’old coot,” Lum grumbled. He built up a small pile of tinder in the pit, produced a cigarette lighter, and had a blaze going inside of thirty seconds.

“Hey!” barked Lizzy. “What’s that all about? Why don’t you use the drill?”

“I mean, I could, but… I ain’t silly in the head.”

Lizzy gasped and looked at Rose, who instantly fell to laughing at the girl’s scandalized expression. A moment later Elizabeth was laughing as well.

“Goan,” Lum nodded, “fetch us that bin an’ let’s see ’bout chow.”

They ate in a comfortable silence, content to let the daytime slip away into night in each other’s company, existing easily in the wordless communication of people who interact every day. When the meal was finished, and the gear stowed, they settled back to look up into the night sky and watch the stars tumble endlessly overhead, listening to the subdued evening sounds all the while. Rose smiled as she looked up into that vast, speckled darkness and asked, “So who has a story tonight?”

“You want another?” George asked, surprised. “I was afraid I’d gone too far last night.”

“Well, maybe not something quite so sad,” Lizzy said. “I don’t know… are funny stories around the campfire a thing?”

Lum snorted and said, “Know one’r two ’bout this fella used to live up the way, name-uh Jack. Jack used to get up to all sorts of thangs.”

Rose smiled and asked, “Things like what?”

“Oh… I dunno…” Lum sat up in his chair and looked into the fire a moment, eyes intent, and thought for a goodly time while his face smoothed under the shuffling-off of the years of his life, searching back in time through the flames to when he still had a mamma.

“Thang you need to unnerstand ’bout Jack was he was poor. Jack’s family was poor, too, in the way most folk measure such thangs, but in his world, they was doin’ alright. Had them a barn an’ a hunnderd acres up in thar, only ’bout seventy of them acres was all rocks an’ scald. They worked what they could on the rest of it, Jack and his brothers Tom an’ Will, an’ they reckoned that someday that farm was gonna be one-uh-theres, an’ that was gonna be alright.

“Well, one day Jack’s mamma and daddy takes him an’ his brothers aside an’ says ‘Boys, we’s comin’ t’the end-uh our road. Goan pass the farm on to one-uh you, now, but we’s gotta make sure we give it t’the best one-uh you on account this was your daddy’s daddy’s land.’ So Jack’s mamma give Jack, Tom, and Will a hunnerd dollars and sent them off into the world to seek their fortune.

“Well, Tom and Will’re both older’n Jack, so they were closer to each other. They got together and laid plans, and when them plans was laid they went yander up the road and hid behind some bushes to wait. When Jack come by, Tom and Will come flyin’ out-uh them bushes an’ just beat the tar outta Jack. They beat that boy till he couldn’t move no more and took his hunnerd dollars.

“Now Jack was sad. Said ‘I can’t go home now; I been sent out into the world to seek my fortune. But I don’t know what I’m goan do ’thout two pennies to rub together.’

“So Jack traveled along the road an’ wandered outta his territory; kept walkin’ till he passed outta his peoples’ land an’ into lands far removed. He lived off the land, eatin’ berries an’ such along the road, pullin’ him boomers down from the trees and fryin’ ’em up over the camp far of a night.

“Well, Jack traveled him a-thousand miles through a-thousand towns, all a-foot, until he come one day to a fork in the road. Them two new roads went off in differn’t directions an’ neither one looked any good to Jack. They twisted off into dark hoar-woods, and the paths was sinister, and Jack could see weren’t no berries or nuts along either of ’em. So he reckoned he’d been goin’ one direction such a long time and he’d done alright so far—he kept goin’ plum right on into the thickest part-uh them trees.

“Walkin’ through them trees was a bit of a misery, they was so thick, an’ the brambles tugged at his clothes; started rippin’ up his britches worse than they was. Jack started getting’ worried; started thinkin’ ‘Well, maybe I done took a bad turn. Maybe I oughta turn back.’ But Jack was stubborn as his daddy an’ his daddy was famous for once out mulin’ a mule, so he didn’t turn back. An’ after several days-uh plungin’ through them trees, they opened up into a clearin’ with an’ old, busted up shack plum in the center an’ out on that shack’s porch was an old hag sittin’ in a rocker.

“Jack come up on the hag and looked at her, an’ what a sight she was. Her teeth was all gone an’ her nose was crooked an’ she had black, wiry hair growin’ out her ears an’ she was all wall-eyed like-uh critter been knocked in the head with a stave. Now, Jack was a lotta things. He was lazy an’ stubborn an’ he liked him a good joke, but he always made his manners to the older folk, s’he strolled up on that porch and tipped his hat to her.

“That hag looked all surprised at him when he did that an’ she said ‘You ain’t goan throw nuthin’ at me?’

“Jack said ‘Naw ma’am.’

“An’ she sighed an’ said ‘Well, thank gunness for that. Most boys passin’ through huck rocks at me an’ I can’t get out this chair to get away.’