Read Online The Seeds of Man by William C. Dietz - Free Book Online
Authors: William C. Dietz
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hydroponics. As the rest of the group came to a halt, they did too. A leadership conference followed but soon came to the obvious conclusion. The leavers couldn’t go back and didn’t have enough provisions to stay where they were, so all they could do was keep going and hope for the best.
As the group followed the tracks south, Lora was stunned by the vast sweep of the cloud-strewn sky, the snow-covered fields that seemed to stretch forever, and the arrow-straight road that ran all the way to the southern horizon. There was comfort in knowing that they could see trouble coming from a long way off. The final hours of the afternoon passed pleasantly, and by the time they arrived in what had once been a small hamlet, the dimly seen sun was low in the western sky. Nix called a halt, and after a quick look around, it was agreed that they would hole up in what had once been a post office.
The concrete-block building had been occupied recently, judging from the hot embers in the old-fashioned potbellied stove, an amenity that was too heavy to steal. It sat in the corner of a large room with a counter and storage area in the back.
As darkness fell, the leavers settled in, made their meals, and prepared for bed. Once Lora’s sleeping bag was laid out, she made a mug of hot tea and took it out back, where a semicircle of plastic chairs was waiting. The fact that no one had bothered to take them was a testimonial to how common lawn furniture was—and how many people had perished since the war.
Lora sat down, took a sip of tea, and savored the peace and quiet. Earlier in the day she had been struck by how vast the world was. Now, as she began to contemplate the future, she wondered what it would hold. That was a new experience. Inside the Sanctuary children took tests, were told what they would be good at, and were assigned to those occupations. They claimed it was a scientific way to make sure that all the citizens were happy, but Lora had doubts. Were the people who held the most desirable jobs the best qualified to do so? Or had they been selected for political reasons? Take Matt, for example. He smoked weed and he was slated for an administrative post—or had been. Would his father’s death put an end to that?
Lora was considering that possibility when she heard the muted
pop-pop-pop
of what might have been gunfire. And she wasn’t the only one. Fry materialized out of the darkness. He was standing in the spill of light from the open door. “Did you hear that?”
Lora looked up at him. “It could have been gunfire. Off thata way.”
Fry nodded and disappeared inside. A bustle of activity followed as people with guns appeared and took up defensive positions around the building. All the leavers were on edge after that, but there were no further noises and the night passed without incident.
Once daylight came, Fry and two other men went out to take a look around. When they came back, it was with disturbing news. Judging from all the hoofprints, a party of up to thirty riders had circled the hamlet during the night. But why?
That question was the subject of considerable debate. Should they continue to travel south, which would take them in the direction of the gunfire heard the night before, or should they remain where they were? The problem was that they didn’t have enough food to hole up in the post office. After much dithering, the decision was made to resume the march, a course of action Lora understood but was worried about.
So they ate, packed, and hit the road. As they had the day before, they made good progress, but there were no lighthearted conversations or friendly snowball fights today. The air felt clammy, and a thick layer of mist clung to the ground, making it impossible to see for more than five hundred yards. Thirty minutes into the march, Lyn Cho pointed to the east. “Look! Riders!”
“And there are more to the west,” Hobbs added.
“Okay, close it up!” Fry ordered, and they did. Not that
As the group followed the tracks south, Lora was stunned by the vast sweep of the cloud-strewn sky, the snow-covered fields that seemed to stretch forever, and the arrow-straight road that ran all the way to the southern horizon. There was comfort in knowing that they could see trouble coming from a long way off. The final hours of the afternoon passed pleasantly, and by the time they arrived in what had once been a small hamlet, the dimly seen sun was low in the western sky. Nix called a halt, and after a quick look around, it was agreed that they would hole up in what had once been a post office.
The concrete-block building had been occupied recently, judging from the hot embers in the old-fashioned potbellied stove, an amenity that was too heavy to steal. It sat in the corner of a large room with a counter and storage area in the back.
As darkness fell, the leavers settled in, made their meals, and prepared for bed. Once Lora’s sleeping bag was laid out, she made a mug of hot tea and took it out back, where a semicircle of plastic chairs was waiting. The fact that no one had bothered to take them was a testimonial to how common lawn furniture was—and how many people had perished since the war.
Lora sat down, took a sip of tea, and savored the peace and quiet. Earlier in the day she had been struck by how vast the world was. Now, as she began to contemplate the future, she wondered what it would hold. That was a new experience. Inside the Sanctuary children took tests, were told what they would be good at, and were assigned to those occupations. They claimed it was a scientific way to make sure that all the citizens were happy, but Lora had doubts. Were the people who held the most desirable jobs the best qualified to do so? Or had they been selected for political reasons? Take Matt, for example. He smoked weed and he was slated for an administrative post—or had been. Would his father’s death put an end to that?
Lora was considering that possibility when she heard the muted
pop-pop-pop
of what might have been gunfire. And she wasn’t the only one. Fry materialized out of the darkness. He was standing in the spill of light from the open door. “Did you hear that?”
Lora looked up at him. “It could have been gunfire. Off thata way.”
Fry nodded and disappeared inside. A bustle of activity followed as people with guns appeared and took up defensive positions around the building. All the leavers were on edge after that, but there were no further noises and the night passed without incident.
Once daylight came, Fry and two other men went out to take a look around. When they came back, it was with disturbing news. Judging from all the hoofprints, a party of up to thirty riders had circled the hamlet during the night. But why?
That question was the subject of considerable debate. Should they continue to travel south, which would take them in the direction of the gunfire heard the night before, or should they remain where they were? The problem was that they didn’t have enough food to hole up in the post office. After much dithering, the decision was made to resume the march, a course of action Lora understood but was worried about.
So they ate, packed, and hit the road. As they had the day before, they made good progress, but there were no lighthearted conversations or friendly snowball fights today. The air felt clammy, and a thick layer of mist clung to the ground, making it impossible to see for more than five hundred yards. Thirty minutes into the march, Lyn Cho pointed to the east. “Look! Riders!”
“And there are more to the west,” Hobbs added.
“Okay, close it up!” Fry ordered, and they did. Not that
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