Hell Follows After (Monster of the Apocalypse Saga) (2 page)

E
arly the next morning a young boy came looking for Edge in the bachelor quarters and found him sitting with his two best friends at breakfast, a bowl of barley and dried apples sweetened with beet pulp. Edge’s friend, Chill Danworth, an apprentice Cobbler, had just offered to trade some of his pulp for some of Edge’s apples, and he was not inclined to accept. The other friend, Cable Sullivan, a ne’er do well troublemaker and uncontracted droog by intent, noticed the small one approaching and warned them.

“Errand boy at four o’clock, my friends,” he said. “The boy looks to be focused on you, Edge.”

Casually looking over his shoulder, Edge inspected the kid as he approached. Not recognizing him, he had no idea what he wanted.

Sure enough, the small boy tapped on Edge’s shoulder lightly in an effort to draw his attention and spoke formally.

“Pardon, sir, but you be Edge Shannon?”

“I am that, but no ‘sir’ required or expected, little man.” Edge smiled at the boy seeming so shy. “And what, pray tell, can I do for you?”

“My mother’s husband wishes to speak with you, sir.” The child had gained some confidence in finding the correct person. “He awaits you at his shop.”

Apparently the child was inclined to stick with the “sir,” regardless of being instructed in the lack of necessity. Looking him over closely, Edge could see he was well dressed and thought the boy was likely from a good family. For some reason he looked familiar.

“And are you going to enlighten me as to the shop I shall be seeking, little one?”

“Pardon, sir.” The boy was embarrassed, and Edge felt bad for being brusque. “The Master Blacksmith, Occam Stone’s shop.” The boy looked up at Edge. “May I be telling him of your arrival soon, sir?”

His father’s best friend, Occam Stone was the Smith who saved his apprentice’s life in the accident that killed Edge’s father. He was one of the few men that Edge would do anything for without asking questions. Now Edge placed the child as the third son of Occam’s second, and eldest, wife. The resemblance was apparent now that he was recognized.

“At once, young man. I will attend at once. I have but two or three spoonfuls to indulge, and thence I shall give my all to best you to your father’s door.” The boy looked startled at the challenge, but his mouth became set, and Edge could see he would have a race. “High thee on, and see if you can beat me.”

Without hesitation, the child pivoted on his heel and launched himself toward the door.

Spooning his last cereal into his mouth, Edge grinned at his compatriots with bits of beet pulp showing between his teeth. They laughed and set a mock wager on the outcome of the race.

As Edge rose and ran toward the door, Cable called after him, “Now, let us know the winner truthfully, or be it on your head the consequence.” They guffawed him out of sight.

The boy was well ahead of him, but Edge knew a short cut that the young one must have been unaware of. He took it as the boy disappeared around the corner, taking the longer route. By the time he reached the Smithy, Edge could see the kid running up the hill, out of breath and laboring in an effort to win the race. Edge stayed behind the corner of the fence that hid him until the child disappeared into the darkness of the shop. Then he emerged and ran inside acting as if he, too, were out of breath.

The child stood behind his father’s leather apron skirts and peeked out with a grin on his face. He had not expected to win, and he was proud. So was the burley Smithy but not because his son had won. Instead, he took delight in knowing that the young Edge had allowed the boy his triumph. He had seen Edge waiting behind the fence. He smiled wide in a face blackened by soot, even this early in the day.

“My son tells me he was challenged by a man with longer legs and has beaten him in a foot race.”

He chuckled, deep and throaty. The Smith spoke in the more common dialect, putting Edge at ease.

“Aye, Master Smithy, he did that. It was all I could do to catch him up.”

“Well, we can’t have it go to his head, can we? He must accept that there are always men that can be beaten, but there will always be men that will beat him next time. Humility must be encouraged.”

Looking down at the boy, he stooped and placing his huge hand in back, urged the child forward, saying, “Now, shake the hand of the man you raced and high thee home to do your mother’s bidding.”

The boy extended his hand as he was told as though he were used to doing it, and he looked Edge in the eye as they shook hands. The boy made an effort to grip with strength, worthy of a man, and then he dropped his arm and scrambled around Edge and out the door.

“So, tell me about the troubles last even, Edge.” The Smithy looked concerned.

The news of the encounter with Arc had traveled fast. Good news always did, and bad news was winged. There was no reason to hold back, and Edge spoke of the exchange with this man his father had trusted.

“There was no reason for him to treat you ill, son.” Occam had called him son even before his father’s death. “He is a small man in nature as well as stature and ugly, too, in both countenance and attitude.”

Occam shook his head, turning to his forge and the bellows that needed to be pumped. Stepping forward, Edge laid his hand on the handle before Occam and started the rhythm that was necessary to heat the furnace to its proper temperature. He had spent time in the shop before and loved the work, what he knew of it. Metal could be shaped like nothing else.

Smiling, his white teeth glowing through blackened lips, the big man considered his friend’s son.

“I’ve spoken to one of the Elders. There are no apprenticeships available in drayage, so you are unlikely to finish your lessons anytime soon, if at all. Besides, we have enough Ox Masters, already.”

The information that his profession was cluttered was nothing new to Edge, but it was what he was trained for, and he loved the animals. The fact that Occam had spoken with an Elder sparked his interest, though.

“My apprentice has been graduated. Did you know that?” inquired Occam quietly.

Not sure why he should, Edge shook his head.

“That creates an opening, and as I have volunteered for the expedition and would rather not take an inexperienced boy along, there is reason for me to offer you the job.”

This was an unexpected turn. The practices of the Guilds were strict, and Edge had never heard of such a thing. He listened further.

“The Elder has made an exception for you because of necessity. There are no worthy candidates that I would consider before leaving, and you are available.” The Smithy grinned again but looked troubled as though unsure of how Edge would react.

“The trip will demand two years, more than likely, and you will be granted three in service of an apprenticeship because of the extra efforts and unusual circumstances. When we return, you will have two years to complete, and I will take on another apprentice so that a man deserving of training doesn’t go wanting. The deal is a win for me because I will have two men to work for me for a short time, and I have plans on how to use you, believe me. Could you be interested in being a Smith?”

The unfolding idea crowded Edge’s thoughts as the Smithy spoke. He had few options that would allow his path back to normalcy, and this offered a new one. Even his shunning would cease once the journey started. There would be two years on the trail to delay his life, and the position would require an extra two years of smithing afterward, where he had only one left with the oxen. On the other hand he would come out with skills that no others had by being trained in two fields. He loved his oxen, but this offer of apprenticeship could give him his life back. Besides, with the skills of a Smith, he could build a wagon.

Extending his hand to Occam, the two came to agreement.

“By the way, I haven’t contracted for drayage yet.” The Smith’s eyes twinkled over his white teeth. “And I need a hitch. I know a man that’s retiring, and he has some extra animals he’s selling. He promised me first crack. I figure we should have twelve oxen, just in case. Now, if I only knew someone that could pick a good team.…” He grinned.

The United States of America was nothing but a legend told around campfires in the evenings by very old people. Passed down from elders, the tales told of freedom and liberty and a document called the Constitution and another known as the Bill of Rights, but the meanings were lost for the most part even to the storytellers. The nations of the world had fallen apart two hundred years ago. Intentionally released plagues had decimated the human populations of the earth, and there were no good reasons for large government with so few survivors.

Along with the documents, technologies followed into oblivion. Their decline took longer but was just as inexorable. As the remaining few people grieved for those they had once known, they scrambled in a world of plenty. The grid stayed up and running on auto pilot, solar panels functioned, and wind generators whipped their huge blades. There were large quantities of anything a human being could want. Water was pumped and filled pipes to be delivered to taps, automated transportation ran, furnaces performed, preserved foods filled shelves, and clothing was to be had for the taking. The survivors had no reason to maintain anything because they could just scavenge. When anything broke, they threw it aside and foraged for another. There was no reason to grow food, repair a pipe, or fix a vehicle that stalled and would not move.

Many of the original survivors had no jobs or training and, untrained and unskilled, had been living on the public dole. Those with experience necessary to maintain the high standard of living lost their expertise because they did not need to study or stay in practice. Many of the skills they possessed were not transferable to the world they had inherited anyway. Abilities disappeared over time and with them the technologies they supported. The decline in capability took twenty years, more or less.

The first systems to lose function were isolated electrical systems around the country, but they were minor problems. People moved or found ways to adapt.

The next failure that caused some anxiety was the satellite network. Not all at once, but in fits and starts, each lost its focus point over time. One orbiting chunk of hardware after another failed, and people were unable to use their comlinks to call others or to access the net. GPS systems went down, and survivors learned to stay in place, use old style maps, or take their chances. Most chose to stay in place in what small groups had formed.

Rudimentary robot technology, so recently coming of age in a useful way, remained capable for a short time. Because of the maintenance requirements of a new industry, the machines failed due to lack of service. The newest generation of robots, designed and manufactured just before the plagues were released and as part of that plan, were infected with a termination program. They had reached the end of their fail safe programming and gathered to march into the ocean as instructed. Most survivors never even knew they existed.

Battery and solar powered vehicles aged past their expiration dates and quit running. Furnaces failed to ignite, and canned goods froze and exploded. Wires were chewed by small animals and shorted out. Structures corroded, buildings caved in, bridges collapsed, surfaces decayed, and man returned to the eighteenth century.

The technological death of the earth took time. A few events occurred within days, weeks, or months. Other events took years and even decades. Large scale agriculture, refrigeration and air conditioning, the internet, and television were early victims.

Some of the more resilient designs, mostly based on being long term and grand in scale, lasted into the next centuries. Concrete and steel, when protected adequately, outlasted most other things. While the city streets returned to forest or grass, the buildings displayed their silhouettes against horizons as though permanent. Still, eventually they would fall as well.

As man’s skill diminished from lack of use and then from a failure to train and learn, medicine devolved until any simple malady became dangerous. The use of pharmaceuticals ceased as medications expired and lost potency. Even the ability to read suffered a mortal blow in areas where there was no society to enforce learning of the written word.

There were industries and technologies that survived. Steelmaking and machining in elementary forms continued or were relearned. There were people who understood time and could make or repair watches. Solar panels were easy to build using stockpiled or salvaged parts, and homes had electricity for lights. Apothecaries began to manufacture and sell powdered drugs for killing pain and for settling stomachs, and some actually worked. Music and the recording and playing of it on small devices remained, as well as radio technologies in primitive configurations. Even though oxen drew the wagons that became standard to hauling anything of value, there were antennae waving above many of them and solar panels on the sides.

Nations, governments, city states, and county governments collapsed for lack of interest. Police and fire departments, utility companies, and water purification facilities ceased to have importance to people who knew little about them and had no reason to operate or repair them.

There was an upside to the oblivion. The air cleared as the only thing running was for power generation on demand, and the demand was tiny. Most eventually was replaced by solar, wind, or occasionally water power. Without manufacturing, the earth was able to catch her breath and begin to stay ahead of the scarification. The normalized industrialization in creating a consumer society ceased. Without churches breeding members in order to garner ever greater amounts of money and power, the planet started to heal and become an Eden. As money became obsolete, the great gouts of sewage that were the product of manufacture stopped being dumped into the air and the waters and the earth. Those natural systems began the processes that would reinvigorate them and provide sustenance for the growth of living things.

But it could not last. Man had survived, and man was a breeder.

At first, strangers gathered and formed small enclaves. Some groups failed and broke up, scattering members to the wind, but some took root and grew.

There were many early survivors carrying defective genes from decades of medical intervention, keeping people viable in order to procreate when they would surely have died otherwise. The cessation of those procedures created a cliff for those with defective genes to fall from. The earliest years were brutal, and diseases like diabetes, heart disease, asthma, and premature birth tendencies were weeded from the population. Women were especially hard hit in the first decade as they were the ones having to deal with complications of birth that had once been rare and bred out. Children suffered as those with autism and attention deficits bore the brunt of accidents that were prevented in civilized societies. Darwin would have understood.

Eventually the population stabilized. The ratios of male to female became more normalized, and as midwifery gained a new foothold, women started to take back the control of their own birth outcomes like they had not for centuries. Few understood natural birth control techniques, and it became normal for a woman to produce a child every two or three years again. Women returned to childrearing as their most legitimate societal use with very few exceptions.

As resources dwindled in foraging and people returned to agriculture and manufacturing, children became valued for their labor. The desire for large families, both because of high death rates and for financial reasons, gained traction.

Many of the growing societies started to experiment with governments. Government led to money. Money led to bigger government. And so it goes. Within a century of the plague event, there were communities of men vying for territory, resources, and power. These men knew that greater populations under their control were the easiest way to ensure success in their endeavors. The human race was back on track and repopulating the earth.

Two hundred years after the plague event, man was starting to overcome the obstacles to progress once more. A new age of exploration and trade began, and with no formal boundaries and few serious governments, the world was wide open to men of vision or evil intent. Often, those lines were blurred.