A Shepherd's Calling (What Comes After Book 2) (6 page)

“
Not what he means,” she said to her little brother. To the other men, she said, “We had hogs. Actual pigs. We ate the last one in the spring. We never hunted other people, if that's what you're getting at.”

“
But you did keep them corralled. Even if you were being sparing or using them to supplement fish, game and whatever else you could harvest, you were still imprisoning human beings for the sole purpose of consumption.” The Shepherd stopped short of further judgment. He was tempted to ask other questions; how did they determine who went into the stockade? Lottery, seniority, gender? Punishment for breaking their rules? Who decided the criteria? How long were people kept there before being slaughtered and of course, how many had been killed in the name of survival? How many of the weak had been offered up as sacrifice for the strong, so that some could carry on?
One or a thousand, makes no difference
, he thought.
They did it willfully and that's all that matters
.

The Shepherd and Janessa watched each other for a while. A couple of times, it appeared the young woman wanted to say something, but she never got it out. In light of what had been under discussion, what could she say?

“
That answer your question, Mr. Martin?” Chris asked after a few minutes.

Ben looked up at him and nodded. “I think so. Now, I need to pee.” He seemed to think about it. “Maybe more.”

The Shepherd looked at the siblings and asked, “Would you two mind taking Ben to do his necessary? Nobody should be alone and we-” he waved at himself and the Hunter “can set up camp while you're away.”

Toby glanced quickly between Tom and Janessa. “You don't mean take him outside, do you? It's getting dark out there.” He added hastily, “I mean, it'll be harder to see. Could get tripped up or something.”

Chris shook his head. “Shouldn't need to. One of the smaller rooms in the hallway would do the trick. Honestly, I'd be surprised if the marines haven't already designated one as a latrine.”

Janessa nodded, her understanding plain on her face. “Alright.” She picked up her rifle. Looking at Ben, she said, “Let's get this show on the road.” She nudged Toby with her foot. “You too, slacker.”

The expression on Toby's face said he was not interested in leaving, but he still followed his sister's lead. Scooping up his own rifle, he looked at Ben and motioned toward the door with his head. “C'mon, little man. When nature calls, you don't keep it waiting.”

The boy stood quickly enough, but paused before joining the siblings. He looked at Chris, his eyes bright and intense, full of a worry that bordered on panic. The older man smiled. “Toby's right,” Chris said patiently. “I'll still be here when you get back. Go on.”

The small group paused only once, at the door into the hallway. It was just long enough for Ben to glance back at where Tom and Chris sat, before he was whisked through the door behind Janessa.

“
Back in a flash,” Toby called just before closing the door.

Chris's smile evaporated the instant the door was shut. “You're not the least bit concerned about Ben going off alone with those two?” His tone was clipped and his shoulders appeared tight.

Tom shook his head. “No. With the marines next door, I don't think they'll try anything. If they do, we're both right here. Even if they manage to get away from me, they're not outrunning your rifle. Whatever you think of them, they understand that much. That boy is as safe with them as he is with us, at least for now.” He paused and couldn't help how his eyes narrowed. “Now, before you try to change the subject again... Would you care to tell me how the Survival Instructor First Class and Hunter of New Mont, a man I've known for more than ten years as retired U.S. Army Staff Sergeant Christopher Farr, came to be found over a hundred miles from the community he was instrumental in forming and sworn to protect? And how he came to be called 'Caleb'?”

The older man blinked. “Like I said earlier, I'll tell you in due time.” Again, he held up a hand to stave off the interruption he knew was coming. “There's already enough on our plate right now. The marines, why they're here, why they want you, where we're really going. That's enough to work through for one night.” Chris looked over his shoulder, to the door through which the others had gone. “Even if I were able to tell you everything quickly, there's no way I could do it before they got back. And we both know that would go against the Way. Even if I could tell you without the others hearing, you'd be focused on that and not our present situation.”

Tom frowned. “You're wrong. If you told me, I'd just-”

Chris cut him off, a dubious expression on his face. “If I were wrong, would we be having this conversation?” Now it was the older man's turn to be skeptical. “Speaking of wrong... Cannibals are awfully strange travel companions for a Shepherd, wouldn't you say?”

The air between them was heavy with the pause in their conversation. “Reformed cannibals. However they lived their lives before, they are committed to learning a better Way now. So they have said and I have no reason to doubt them. They're not beyond saving.” Seeing Chris ready to argue, Tom spoke with finality. “That's my decision to make.”

A heartbeat later, Chris nodded. “You're right, of course. Part of your Burden is finding proven human beings, especially ones who don't seem that way at first glance.” He smiled. “You've always been a good judge of character. That quality is one of the things that makes you a Shepherd. Truth be told, it's something I envy about you.”

Teacher and student offered an appraisal of the other, each weighing, judging and considering what had just been said and why. Perhaps every bit as importantly, what had gone unsaid and why. Something was changing between them. Each man knew himself and the other well enough to recognize it.

Glancing at the door, Chris asked another question, his voice low and husky. “Angie?”

Tom shook his head. “It was quick,” was all he said. A few breaths later, he added, “I think Ben would prefer to stay with you. Since I'm most likely going with the marines tomorrow, should I look into making a detour to Respite for the two of you?”

The Hunter shook his head. “No. I'll keep the boy with me, if that's what he chooses. There's nothing for us in Respite, so don't stop there on my account. If it's all the same to you, lad, I'd prefer not to be separated again.”

Chris gestured to the vehicle bay, sweeping his arms to encompass the open area. “Time to make a camp, yeah?”

Both experienced hands, they had the job completed in a few short minutes. When the others returned, Toby was first through the door, rifle up on his shoulder like a toy soldier. He jacked a thumb over his other shoulder, indicating the hallway he had just come from.

“
You was right, Ol' Timer,” he said with a grin. “Second door on the right, when you need to do yours.” When he was half a dozen steps into the large room, he stopped. “Weren't kiddin' 'bout this, neither.” He sounded impressed. “Damn.”

Between the two of them, Tom and Chris had cleared out an area close to the fire truck, set up the bedrolls, sleeping bags and packs. They'd rigged boxes and clutter near the doors so that, when opened, noisy debris would fall and alert the group to intruders. Chris even had a small fire going, where he seemed ready to make a stew from vegetables on a cloth beside him. Janessa seemed equally stunned, slowing enough that Ben had to sidestep around her.

“
Wow,” she said, shaking her head.

Tom watched the child race back to the older man and seat himself near the fire. While the water came to a boil in the small pot, Chris showed Ben how to prepare the vegetables for their stew. While the older man passed on his wisdom and experience, the boy listened raptly and with borderline adoration. The scene reminded Tom of his own childhood. He allowed himself to remember when Chris had first taught him to skin and cut vegetables, how to find and prepare food in the wild. Knowing how much he treasured those memories himself, Tom thought,
I'll only take this from the boy if I must. Chris will ultimately determine if that's necessary... But I pray it will not need to happen
. Then he returned to the comfort of those memories, allowing their warmth to help him find the resolve to act in the morning.

No one expected the marines to knock.

The observation of a nearly forgotten civility was both gracious and courteous. Tom was surprised by the reflexive urge to call out, but managed to stop himself before he did. Instead, he took these last few moments to study his companions before they met with the military men. The small band stood with packs secured and rifles slung on their shoulders, ready to depart; his old teacher, a boy of no more than ten and two siblings who had been cannibals only days earlier.

Strange traveling companions, indeed
, the Shepherd thought.

“
Come in,” Tom replied to the knocking.

The door swung open, admitting three men. Two of them advanced into the room while the third remained by the open door. Like Tom and his group, the marines had their equipment with them and seemed ready to go. The Major carried his rucksack in hand and set it down when he stopped a few feet from Tom. The marine with the Major, whose name patch read 'Davis', moved carefully, aware of the group of strangers before him but apparently unconcerned. Davis and the man by the door both had their weapons held loosely. They were not in a ready-fire position and their fingers stayed outside the trigger guard. It was the way a trained, disciplined man carried a long arm in an unfamiliar setting.
Or any setting where hostility could erupt
, Tom thought.
But they don't seem hostile, and their wariness is a good sign. It would be harder to trust them if it seemed as though their guard was down, regardless of their stated intentions.

“
Good morning,” Major Vargas said. “How did you sleep?”

“
Well enough, thank you for asking. How was it for you and your men?” Tom noticed that Vargas remained focused on him, much like the previous afternoon.

“
Quiet,” the Major replied. “Makes enjoying the shut-eye a bit more guilt-free. Shall we dispense with the pleasantries and move straight to business, then?”

The Shepherd nodded.

“
Will you be joining us, Mr. DuPuis?” While the officer's voice was friendly enough, there was a note of formal authority in it.

“
Most likely,” the Shepherd answered. “We have questions.”

“
I thought you might. What answers I can provide, I will.”

“
You don't know why you were assigned to find and bring me to Quebec.” When the Major nodded, the Shepherd continued. “What do you suspect is the reason?”

The officer pursed his lips. “As I told you yesterday, Mr. DuPuis: I don't know why we were sent for you. Every individual given 'high-priority return status' has some perceived value, but the source of that value is on a need to know basis. Usually, my men and I are not on the 'need to know' list. “
Ours not to reason 'why', ours but to do or die.
” He smiled. “Speculation is a dangerous game, one best left to bankers, lawyers, politicians and those similarly distanced from the field. I'm sorry, but I can't help you there.”

Tom resisted the urge to sigh. He had expected such an answer, but that expectation had done nothing to temper his hope for something more or his disappointment when the suspicion was confirmed. His next question was likely to receive a similar answer. “Where would we go from here? If you and your men are headed somewhere other than Quebec, or have another mission to perform that would put those with me in danger, then I'm afraid I would need to decline your offer.”

“
Understandable. If you agree to accompany us, your safe return becomes the sole mission objective. We cease all other activities and provided you with immediate escort to the consulate in Quebec. Our only goal becomes getting you back to safety as quickly as possible.”

“
Other activities”? Consulate? Looks like we won't want for conversation on the way there
, Tom mused. To the marine, he said, “How long will that take? With winter coming, I'm not inclined to make a long trip with the few provisions we have left. Not when we have time enough to find a good place to bed down for the season and wait it out.”

The officer smiled. “We'll be taking 202 to 95 north to Route 201, which we'll follow to Jackman. When we cross the border, Route 201 will become Highway 173. From there, it's a straight shot to Quebec City. We're looking at two days, possibly three. Depending on the state of the roads, of course, but they were pretty clear when we came down. Most of day one will be the hump back to where we parked the trucks. If we keep a low profile, it should be pretty smooth sailing. God willing and the creeks don't rise.”

Tom's head was spinning.
They came in vehicles. Real, working vehicles
. The manner in which Vargas offered the estimated arrival time was offhand and factual enough to tell Tom that it was truth, at least from the Major's perspective. If it were not true, than the marine was an exceptionally practiced liar.

Shouldn't rule out that possibility yet
, Tom cautioned himself. But to travel nearly four hundred miles in two days... The Shepherd thought that time was long gone, to be recalled wistfully in quiet, peaceful moments; another memory to feed the nostalgia goblin around an evening fire. It wasn't just the vastness of the space that seemed trivialized by the time frame, either.

Ten markers and a journey no less than three hundred miles
.