Eden's Hammer
Table of Contents
EDEN’S HAMMER
by Lloyd Tackitt
Eden’s Hammer
Copyright © 2013 by Lloyd Tackitt. All rights reserved.
First Kindle Edition: January 2013
Cover and Formatting:
Streetlight Graphics
All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for the personal enjoyment of the original purchaser only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
CHAPTER 1
March 2, mid day
H
e arrived in the village
with a crushing sense of foreboding gnawing at his gut. It had been eating him inside out the entire three weeks of the trip. Roman had called him home, saying they were facing a disaster, an event that could mean the death of everyone in the village. But Roman wouldn’t say more over the radio. Adrian had to live with the open-ended statement until he returned home. It created such urgency that he pushed his horse as hard as possible to get home as fast as he could.
Roman gave Adrian a tight hug after Adrian dismounted. “Glad you made it back safely; we’ve got big trouble coming and need your help bad.”
“Tell me.”
“Big trouble headed this way,” Roman repeated, momentarily losing his smile. “But there’s time for you to rest up first. It’s not coming today or tomorrow.” With a strained grin, he added, “Those are nasty looking scars on your neck. Where’d you get that little wolf? And where in hell did you get that shitty haircut?”
Adrian smiled in spite of his three weeks of tension. “Whoa, Uncle Roman! One thing at a time. The scars are from a grizzly bear I had a fight with last winter—they go all the way down to my stomach. I found the wolf pup on the way home, and I cut my hair with my knife a few weeks ago.” He felt only a tiny easing of the tension. He had to know what the “trouble coming” was, he knew how fruitless it would be to rush Roman when he was in this mood, but he would try anyway.
“Now tell me what the problem is.”
Roman reached a hand out to the puppy that was sitting on the horse’s saddle where Adrian had been carrying him. It snarled and bit viciously at Roman’s fingers. Snatching his hand back, he said, “Tough little guy, eh? What’s his name?” The wolf cub continued a low rolling growl at Roman.
“Bear. I thought it kind of fitting, since everyone’s been calling me ‘Bear’ lately. With a little luck, it might be confusing enough that the name will slide off me and stick to him. Tell me about the trouble.”
“Not just yet. Not until I hear the story of you fathering grizzly bear cubs all over the mountains. I have to hear that one first. The ham radio net is buzzing with it. Did you really sleep with a grizzly sow?”
Adrian smiled ruefully. “That’s a long story, better told sitting down. I’m hungry as a bear, though—when do we eat? Tell me about the trouble, damn it!”
Sarah heard Adrian’s voice through the open cabin door and came running out to him, holding a bunched up portion of her long dress in one hand to keep from tripping on it. Her face was lit up with a huge smile at the sight of the beloved nephew that she and Roman had raised from an early age.
“Aunt Sarah! My God, you’re more beautiful than ever!” Adrian laughingly shouted. The sight of her momentarily raised his spirits. He picked her up off her feet as though she weighed nothing and whirled around in happy circles. Roman whooped loudly and shouted, “Sarah, did you know you raised this boy to go off and have bear cubs? You’re the proud grandma of four-legged creatures covered with fur. Bet they look just like him, too!”
Sarah pulled back to better see Adrian’s face, and while beaming at him, she said, “Better they look like him than you, or they’d be too ugly to catch their own food, old man.”
Roman grinned, scratched his head, and said, “You have a valid point there, woman. When do we eat? The boy is hungry.”
“As soon as Jerry and Shirley can get here. Food’s already on the stove.”
Adrian’s face lit up with an even bigger smile “Yes, ma’am. I’ll unsaddle this horse and rub him down. You mind if the pup comes in the house? He’s pretty young, and I don’t want to tie him up.”
Sarah walked over to the horse, putting her hand out to the pup and then scratching it behind the ears. “Sweet little thing, isn’t he? Sure, you can bring him in.” She plucked the wolf cub off the saddle and carried him toward Jerry’s house with her. Roman shouted at her retreating back, “Go ahead, old woman, take little Bear with you—I don’t want him getting used to me handling him.”
Adrian winked at Roman, who snorted and said, “It’s because she’s been cooking and her hands smell like food.”
“Sure, Roman, whatever you say. When’re you going to tell me about the trouble?”
“Right after I hear about the bear loving. You go on in and I’ll take care of the horse.”
Adrian said, “Thanks! I’ll take you up on that.” He pulled the rifle from the scabbard, grabbed the saddle bags, and strode into the house, shouting “Damn, that smells good!”
Adrian cleaned his plate of its third serving, leaned back, and said, “That’s the best meal I’ve had since I left last year. Aunt Sarah, you are one hell of a cook! I’m so full, I could bust.”
“Does that mean you don’t want a slice of pie?”
“Pie? Oh Lord, you should’ve warned me to leave some room. No ma’am, I couldn’t possibly right now. Well…maybe just one small piece.”
Sarah got up from the table, returning with a large wedge of pecan pie. “Try this—it’s not as sweet as I used to make it, but I think it’s every bit as good anyway. Jerry and Shirley said they’d be here after you ate; they didn’t want to eat me out of house and home by bringing their families with them.”
Roman chimed in, “Damn straight it’s as good—I like it even better. We’ve gotten civilized again since the grid crashed. Took us three years, but we’re making steady progress. Planted sorghum last year and made molasses. Got sugar beets growing this year; soon we’ll have real sugar again. “
Roman continued while Adrian was eating, “After the CME destroyed the electric grid, things were hard. Had to hide out in the brush from all the walking starving from the towns and cities. That lasted over six months. Then the war with Mad Jack—that professional wrestler west of here. Then it was back to square one, planting crops and living by the skin of our teeth while they grew. Then we had a hard winter that was helped a little by the food we had grown, which wasn’t much the first year. Got down to our seed corn by spring. But we pulled through long enough to make a second crop, bigger than the first one. The village grew up around us real fast, too, becoming the central trading point for a long ways in any direction.
“Matthew’s wood-gas devices really helped, letting us use tractors again. That was a giant leap forward, that was. It also let us use generators to gin up electricity, too, another tremendous help. We can weld, run refrigerators, use power tools, and it keeps the field hospital going.” Roman went quiet, afraid he had re-ignited Adrian’s grief. Sarah gave him a look that said he was a bumbling idiot.
Adrian noticed their expressions, paused eating, and looked at Roman and Sarah. “It’s all right. I can think about Alice without going nuts, even talk about her. Go on, you were saying?”
“I’m glad to hear that, son. That was the hardest thing in the world, her dying like that, and with a baby in her.” Roman paused a long time. “Still hard for me to talk about it, must be hell for you.” He paused again briefly. “The hospital she set up that had to be burned because of that damn plague has been rebuilt, in a different spot of course. It’s still the biggest draw for people for miles and miles around. But now we keep outposts manned at the trails way out of town. Anyone showing up with plague symptoms is turned away. Hate to do it, but we can’t afford to help them and risk plague in the village. There were quite a few plague victims after you left. It slowed down a bit a few months back, but some still wander up. Lord only knows how many died from it over the past year. We hear of whole villages wiped out now and then. Something you have to be mindful of when travelling. That’s one of the reasons I told you not to talk to anyone on your way home. You didn’t, did you?
Adrian finished the pie wedge slowly. Roman thought he either really was full, or the talk of Alice had killed his appetite. Adrian said, “Didn’t talk to a soul. I came in off-trail and didn’t pass your outposts, either.”
Roman continued, “Best anyone can figure, there are maybe fifteen million people left in the U.S. Course, there’s no real census because there’s no real government. We hear of broadcasts now and then from what’s left of the government, but they’re just folks that had government shelters to get into. They have no way to help anyone; probably they’ll eat up their own supplies and hit the road begging any time now.”
Adrian asked, “What about Fort Hood? What’s the news there?”
“First tell me about the bear lovin’—I’m dying to hear the details.”
Adrian told the story to Sarah and Roman; it wouldn’t be the last time he had to tell it.
When he was finished, Roman was laughing and slapping his leg. Sarah, aghast at the story, interjected, “You men move into the living room. I’ve got to clean up, and then I have chores to tend to. Go on, now, you’re in my way and you’ll be jawing for hours.”
The puppy followed Adrian into the other room. As they sat down again, Roman said, “Fort Hood—there’s a study. First, they discharged all the men they couldn’t feed, like you and your buddies, sent them off with some rations. Some, the ones with families, they set up with area farmers and ranchers to form communities. Those haven’t worked out so well. Seems most of them broke down pretty quick. Too bad; sounded like a good idea. But mostly they had too many soldiers that couldn’t adapt to farming life, or the farmers couldn’t adapt to having so many strangers. Some of the farms worked, though.”
“What about the post itself?” Adrian asked.
“Not good news, sorry to say. They overestimated how much food they’d stored. Not having the time or the skill to raise crops, they turned to taking food from local farmers around them. They didn’t wipe them out, but they put them in severe hardship. Those farmers didn’t much like being taxed at gunpoint, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it, except hide food, which they did. That went on for a while, then the plague hit the soldiers—hit them hard. I hear tell they lost ninety percent of their people in a few months. Living close together and interacting every day did it to them. That, and there not being a cure, and sure as hell no vaccine to prevent anyone from getting it. Now they’re down to a skeleton crew of what they were after the grid collapse, and that’s a whisper of what they were before. No one really knows what the plague is or where it came from, but it seems to have started in Atlanta. The best theory I’ve heard is that some fools broke into the CDC and opened up a Pandora’s box of diseases. Jennifer is running the hospital now and thinks that maybe some of the viruses mixed or mutated into something no one’s seen before, says the symptoms aren’t like anything she’s ever heard of.