Hell Follows After (Monster of the Apocalypse Saga) (3 page)

Between the gathering of strangers who wandered through and stayed and the high natural birth rate of a polygamous community, the population of Roseburg had doubled many times. Disease and accidents took their tolls, but the community thrived, and there were better than thirty thousand souls within the city and another ten thousand or so across the river. Including all of the smaller outlier communities within a hundred miles, there were probably sixty thousand or more people in their immediate trading circle. That trading area extended north to Vancouver, south to San Francisco, and east to the foothills of the Sierras.

The expansion of industry and the resulting leap in population had started when the progenitor of the Sullivan clan had wandered into Roseburg. Cord was a man of contradiction. A man of immense charm and charisma, he seemed a popular addition, and he gathered many supporters. He proved to be ruthless as well, as he took over the governance and political powers from the unsuspecting former leaders in a lethal coup.

One of the first institutional changes he made on gaining power was to introduce a patriarch-focused polygamy. Matriarchal polygamy was already practiced in Roseburg, the result of many women having few choices in men worthy of being husbands and fathers, and it was their decision that led to couplings. This ended with Cord, and men took the power to make marital decisions. The birth rate surged.

Loyal men were rewarded with wives, and the strategy assured that the core group stayed in power. Over time the government evolved to be run by a descendent of Cord Sullivan, picked by a council of other descendants. The Council of Elders retained many powers and decision-making capabilities and provided a balance to the inherited leader.

A valuable addition to the community occurred roughly fifty years after Cord died an old man. Two men of German heritage and Amish background appeared seeking a new home. Their small community had been decimated by wild men from the north while they were away running trap lines. When they returned they found their relatives dead and the town sacked. They brought with them different but valuable ideas, a strange way of speaking, four bull calves of heritage seed stock, and a guild system. The religion they practiced faded out, but the calves grew into giant bulls, and the Guild and the formal language that they used flourished.

As the tiny, by pre-plague standards, community was still one of the largest groups of people with a goal in common, they retained their power by staying well ahead of the population curve. By developing industries over time and adapting to circumstance, they became the most powerful city on the west coast and possibly on the continent. And the focus remained growth at all cost.

This is the world that Edge would be leaving by becoming a part of the expedition. The comforts of his home, both in routine and protection from danger would be left behind. Edge would be cast into a world where he would have to make judgments and decisions that could mean success or failure, life or death. As a young man, unused to the scope of what he was undertaking, Edge romanticized his expectations and felt his adrenaline surge. He could not wait to begin.

T
he early spring Sierra foothills were beautiful with greening trees and pleasant wildflower meadows for the animals to graze. But the long pull up to Donner Summit lay ahead, and each of the men caring for the oxen knew the danger to his beasts was very real. Recognized by the Wagon Master, Till Willis, as a tough haul, the animals were given the first rest since leaving. Two full days were ordered, except for the oxen that would go ahead with the road crew.

The outriders had returned and given good news. The old I-80 highway would provide a good surface for the majority of the way, and any repairs necessary to the roadbed would be minor. A few down trees and a couple of wash outs had to be dealt with, but with two days to make things right, the only serious impediment was the steep grade. With wagons full of trade goods, the beasts would feel the strain.

Cable arriving the morning of departure on his big yellow buckskin had gladdened Edge’s heart. The three friends had discussed the journey, but Cable had not committed to going, and Chill, Edge’s other best friend, was prevented from coming by apprenticeship duties in Roseburg.

The young man riding the buckskin was a funny one. Cable never made promises and did not like to be obligated. When he explained that he had signed on as an outrider, Edge was surprised. He had expected that if he came at all, it would be as a mercenary. A brawler by nature, just for the fun of it, the muscular, tousle-haired, blond man never turned down the chance to mix it up. From the looks of his hardware he would be ready to perform merc duties if needed, anyway.

Now the buckskin lived on a lead behind the Smithy’s wagon, along with Occam’s big grey. They switched saddles daily between the two so that one was always available to be ridden. The Company Wrangler had set Cable up with a string of ponies he would be expected to ride into the ground, so the horses behind the wagon had light duty because neither Occam nor Edge had any time to ride. The big man walked alongside the hitch most of the time with his wife, while he kept Edge busy inside the wagon shaping and filing shoes for the animals or polishing finished metal implements to a bright sheen.

Edge was learning to sweat. Something his former training had rarely required. Not only was the labor strenuous, but it never ended. On stopping to set up camp every evening, Edge was required to set up the forge and anvil and work iron. What he made by fire and heat in rough form was his next day’s labor to finish in the wagon, cold. His arms and shoulders ached, but he was growing muscle.

The clearing of the trail gave Edge some respite. Extra men among the travelers were required to be the road crew, and he relished the chance to get some time away from the wagon. Edge volunteered with Occam’s permission and rode alongside Cable to become part of the road crew.

The twinkle in Occam’s eye said plenty. He had brought his third wife, Muffy, to care for the womanly duties of the trail, and they had not had much chance to be alone. She was a round young lady with a smile for everyone but a special glint in her eye for the big Blacksmith. That, and her specialty of apple muffins, made her an easy choice to bring along. Being barren so far, either of the possibilities as the result of moments alone would be welcome on the trail. Both Occam and Muffy were glad to see Edge depart for a few days.

The Company teams that would clear the trail lagged behind as the two friends went ahead to remove obstacles with big axes or the double handled saw. By the time the ox teams caught up, the logs were sized, waiting to be dragged off the path.

The two rock slides to be breached were more difficult. The men needed to level enough space for the wagons to move across, and the surface had to be solid. A team crossed if there was footing, or if not the men and beasts would hike around. Then they would send a line across and winch boulders and tree trunks into the void with a span of oxen on each side, stacking them to create a road bed. The work was dangerous because once started rolling boulders could not be controlled. When a large rock settled into a stable cavity, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The heavy, intense labor was broken by long periods of waiting while the crew chiefs argued over the best strategies, and delays made for pleasant days.

While they waited, they had the chance to look past the big trees into the west, as well as keep an eye open for wildlife. Young Cable was wishing for a bear sighting. Dried meat was getting old, and they had not seen much game, not enough to feed everyone fresh meat. Besides, Edge and Cable were on the bottom rung of the ladder. A decent sized bear would feed everyone, and bear was a succulent feast. Edge thought it too early in the year, preferring an animal with some fat, but Cable was ready to shoot anything that would fill his belly with fresh protein. Bear, elk, and deer were smart enough to avoid them, and they saw nothing.

The caravan topped the pass days later with no losses. Even a downed ox would have provided a welcome meal, but having no injuries or deaths was considered a good omen. Laughing at his friend in his need for fresh meat, Edge said a silent prayer of thanks to whatever gods were listening.

Cable got his wish as they descended toward the foothills to the east. Fresh meat in quantity was provided when an ill-broken, bad tempered horse fell off the edge of the road after spooking in a steep spot. The stew was wonderful.

Everyone was in a good mood and ready to do business in Reno.

What was left of the city loomed large. The big buildings still standing in Medford and Redding did not compare. The party had missed seeing Sacramento, as there were too many downed skyscrapers blocking essential roads. The earthquakes of the last half century had felled them like wheat under the blade of a scythe. The former capital city of California had been bypassed on side roads.

The Master Traders were expecting to find some worthy commerce in Reno. A man known to be reliable had informed them of a good population there, and the Trader brought strange seed back from the east side of the Sierra, packaged in paper wrappers, that he would sell and barter. The strange vegetables were consumed in one season by those who could afford them.

The next year the independent trader showed up with even more seeds but still not enough to slake the hunger for variety. This time one of the Roseburg locals saved some seed from his crop of barley, and finally wheat was not the only grain they grew. Others saved squash seed, and the community relished twice as many varieties as they had used previously. The journeyman Traders expected to find more trade worth their time, but if not the seed would be enough. With some judicious inquiry, they found that Denver would be the better turn around. The expense in fielding the caravan would be spread out on a longer trip with more ports of call. They would winter in Denver and return to the coast next year.

While Edge remained inside the wagon, cursing his luck and shackled to his duties, Cable and another outrider investigated the road ahead.

Cable and his companion returned to tell of a thriving market just past a portion of collapsed, elevated highway that they would have to avoid. This was a crossroads for trade from the east and south. Now the Sullivan Territory Traders would add their wares, and the northwest would be represented.

Hiring a local by offering a finely crafted hunting blade in a well-tooled scabbard, the party was led to an open area that was available to set up camp. The local informed them with disdain for their ignorance that they were not in Reno. They were in Sparks. The mistake had been common since well before the plague event, and nothing had changed. The man came back with them to lead the train to the respite, made sure they understood where they were expected to stay, and disappeared on his scrawny pony.

By late afternoon the camp was set, and the local man reappeared with another. The stranger carried a pistol strapped low on one thigh and had a metal star pinned to his chest. The two made their way to the tent with the tallest antennae and were correct in assuming that it was the Wagon Master’s. Till was inside, making the evening report and writing in his log.

Both the Sheriff and Master Till knew the procedure and recognized that fact in the other. The law man pointed out his simple rules, and Till acknowledged them. They would follow local custom or pay a duty, and there were no guarantees that they would not lose any men if there was trouble. The man with the star took his job seriously.

The local man leaned in to the sheriff and whispered in his ear as his eyes shifted nervously between those who had assembled. It seemed there was a fee involved in using the campsite, and the man on the bony nag had neglected to inform them. The Sheriff settled the issue by stating that it was too late to move, and since the Sparks community appreciated the trade opportunities, there would be no fee for the first day. This disappointed the man who had whispered in his ear, but there was little he could do. They had until noon tomorrow to pay rent or move on.

Expecting to explore the market and find something fun after the long road behind him, Edge was disappointed when Occam suggested that he would be better off finishing the work that would lead to their profits. The new apprentice watched with envy as Cable rode past with a couple of the young men who had the evening free. He buffed and polished into the night until he no longer had the energy to go into town, cursing under his breath.

Noise of a crowd gathering woke the young Smithy. Early enough to still be dark, Edge wondered why Occam had not wakened him already. They should be getting ready to sell their wares.

Peeking from his bedroll in the morning chill, Edge saw his employer and Master centered within a group of men adjacent Master Till’s Conestoga. Loud and angry voices were awakening the camp.

The professional Smithy turned within the crowd and broke through, walking with purpose back to his camp. By the time Occam returned, Edge was waiting for him.

Occam fairly barked his orders. “Put the hand cart together and load it. We need to get to market. If they don’t assign booths, we must be there early enough to claim a decent spot. High now, get a move on!”

Anxious to find out what the excitement was about, Edge understood that the big man was intent on business. He hustled to do his duties so they could speak as they pulled the cart.

Sharing the weight of the heavy load, the two men discussed the news. It was not good. Cable and his friends had visited a saloon and had more to drink than they could handle. One of them managed to escape from the ruckus and make his way back to camp, where he informed Master Till that two men had been incarcerated.

The saloon had an area for physical gaming, tests of strength and strategy, and the games pit men against each other in arm wrestling and leg wrestling. After watching carefully for some time and drinking even more of the local mead, Cable had placed a silver coin in the queue of those wanting to try their luck in the leg wrestling.

Side betting continued as men worked their way toward the front of the line, and Cable was matched with one of the local heroes. The man was large and thick in the legs so powerful, but Cable was not new to the skill and had a strategy to overcome mere strength. He won too quickly with the betting heavily against him.

There were hard feelings, words were exchanged, and not one to take insult lightly, Cable was involved when blows followed. Not backing down, the scout held his own inside the ring, but his friends were overpowered quickly, being outnumbered outside the event floor.

Just after they were pinned and held, but before being stripped of any valuables, a booming voice cut the air. The Sheriff had arrived. He made an attempt to be fair, but Cable’s dander was up, and he voiced a few epithets that did not sit well with a man whose job depended on being respected. As the cuffs went on, one of Cable’s friends tried to intervene, and it did not go well for him, either. He joined Cable in cuffs.

The remaining man understood that discretion was the better part of valor, and he retreated through a hail of laughter. The locals were having fun.

Now the train had two men in jail by their own misdeeds. This was going to be an expensive lesson for someone.