Nineteen
It actually took them six hours to get the camp broken down and food and supplies combined into one vehicle, a large military cargo truck. The women bickered endlessly about which pots and pans to take, what clothing, and Duncan was constantly amazed at the way Jessica calmly interceded in each argument and calmed the situation down. She couldn’t be everywhere at once, though, and with all the fighting among the women, he began to wonder how they ever managed to get anything done back in their colony.
Eventually, though, they got moving. Duncan was a bit disappointed that he couldn’t ride in the truck with Jessica, but the sweeping countryside was enough to distract him. The forest thickened as they traveled along the broken highway north, threatening to overtake the road itself.
“This place was once called Louisiana,” Jim told him.
“It’s beautiful.”
“And we’re going to lose it all.” Jim grew sadder with each passing mile, and Duncan couldn’t blame him. The Creeping Death, if what he said was true, was unstoppable. Soon this entire forest would turn to ash and dust, and there was nothing they could do about it.
They pushed on through the night under the dim glare of the ancient vehicle’s headlights. Duncan saw many animals he’d never seen before and Jim called them deer, rabbits, and foxes. The foxes were much like the small Sir Dog, though leaner and sleeker looking. Their bright orange fur stood out in the headlights, though the animals ran away quickly. Duncan struggled to stay awake in the bouncing Jeep, exhausted from the previous few days’ events.
They pulled into Old Shreveport in the early morning, just as sun began to rise above the city. The only difference that Duncan could discern between it and Old Dallas was the plethora of plant life overtaking the city. Vines crawled up destroyed brick walls and trees grew in the middle of old houses. Parking lots filled with old rusted hulks were covered in new grass, and the city had the smell of fresh rain. Occasionally, as they moved toward the center of town, he thought he saw people in the ruins, but they were fleeting, running away at the sound of the small convoy.
The center of town was completely different than the outskirts. The buildings were in better shape and the debris had been piled in neat rows along the sides of the roads, forming short, impromptu walls. There were more people here, and they looked healthier than the people sulking around the ruins. They waved as the convoy passed through and the children looked healthy and playful. There were food plants growing everywhere Duncan turned, in torn-up parking lots, on the rooftops, and along the sidewalks. There were gutters running to bright blue barrels designed to catch rainwater. There were ponds where he saw people working with nets on the end of long poles, scooping out aquatic plants and fish. Many of the men were armed, but when they recognized Jim, their rifles were slung back onto their backs.
“These are friends,” Jim assured Duncan. “They aren’t like those raiders. You’ll be welcomed here as one of their own.”
Sir Dog didn’t react badly at seeing the people, and Duncan had come to trust his instincts in their short time together.
Word of their arrival had apparently spread, and there was a crowd of people waiting for them in the walkways of an ancient open-air mall. The throngs of people mashed together were more than he’d ever seen at any time in New Dallas. They were healthy looking, unlike the women and children that traveled in the truck behind them, and clothed decently. Their outfits had been patched multiple times, but they were clean.
A large man with white billowing hair and a white beard nearly to his belly button stood in front of the crowd, waving. He reminded Duncan of old Mr. Falcon, with the hair and the beard. Unlike his old teacher, though, he was tall and muscular, his skin tanned and cracked with age and weather. There was a jolly look to him, as if he were everyone in the colony’s well-loved grandfather. He rushed to the Jeep smiling from ear to ear and hugged Jim tightly.
“Jim, it’s so good that you’ve returned home. We heard of raiders to the south and feared for your safety.”
Jim returned the hug just as hard. “It’s good to see you too, Blake. We did run into the raiders and I dealt with them. The women in the truck behind us are originally from the Hackberry colony, but fell victim to the raiders. I hope you’ll accept them in good faith into your colony.”
“There is not even a point in asking, Jim. You know they’re welcomed here.” The old man turned to Duncan. “And is this him? Is this young Master Duncan Cade, legend of New Dallas?”
“He’s a sight, isn’t he?” Jim said, finally smiling after the long ordeal.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Duncan said, wondering how they’d heard of him out here. And what sort of legend could he possibly be? “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, sir, but I’m certainly no legend.”
“Ah, such modesty at a young age,” Blake said, slapping him on the back. “He is his father’s son, is he not?”
“Sir?”
The conversation didn’t get to go any further as the crowd swept in, cheering Jim and Duncan, praising them for rescuing the women in the truck. He briefly saw Jessica as other women helped her and the others out of the truck, taking them away to, hopefully, clean them up and get them fed. She smiled at him and waved, and he knew, despite everything going on, that they’d see each other again. He too was swept away by unknown hands, people reassuring him that he was going to be just fine, and welcoming him to the colony. Even Sir Dog was pampered and was soon paws deep in a bowl of fresh vegetables.
Jim managed to make his way through the throng of people and touched Duncan on the shoulder, leaning in close and whispering. “It’s going to be all right, Duncan. You’re home now. This is your new family.”
Duncan didn’t know about that, but he did know it was nice for a change to be loved for his lack of magic and not despised for it.