Read The Great Mother Page 16


  Chapter 16

  The great harvest was turning into a huge disappointment and there was no other way to put it. What should have taken a week had already taken two so far, and every step seemed to drag. Mother tried to keep the people pepped up, keep their spirits high by pointing out the first year was the hardest, but morale was low.

  The vegetables they'd so carefully grown were canned or dried or pickled and put into storage to be rationed out through the winter. The process was long, every step from the tilling to the canning taking a lot of personal effort from each and every citizen, and the sad amount they ended up with in the end made the whole thing seem worthless. They got a lot of food, but anyone with eyes could look and see it wasn't the boon they were expecting. The tomato plants had spread so far, seemed like so much. It was almost soul-crushing for the people who worked so hard to learn that most of the growth was inedible vines as they stared at the small pile of actual fruit.

  Mother did her best to keep pushing her people, to point out that they still had grains and apples, to remind them of the huge hunt that was planned for later in the month. They followed, spirits subdued but still overall up, until the grains harvesting. The corn reaping went fairly smoothly, but as soon as the worker realized they'd have to not only reap but thresh the wheat and barley as well, it was all downhill. The work was hard and demanding, and the required working hours were long to take advantage of a window of dry, temperate weather. Mother had no idea when the cold would roll in, or a storm, or even a decent wind that could strip the ripened, fragile kernels off the stalks before her people could get to them. When the days dragged out and progress wasn't as fast as Mother would like, she had to fight her own panic back and push them harder. She had Striker rig up lights to work into the night. By the time she allowed a day off, seeing the broken, defeated looks in the hollow eyes around her, she knew there was a simmering resentment that could lead to trouble.

  "I don't know what the fuck they expected," Mother raged as she paced around Cora's room.

  Cora sat patiently at her desk, flipping through a medical book. She'd just sit quietly and let Mother vent until she had cooled enough to ask for advice. It had become almost a ritual.

  "It's almost October. At any moment we could get a big storm. It's already frosted. Frost! We have to get it all in now. What's that expression? Make hay while the sun shines?" Mother took off the hat she was wearing and threw it to the floor in frustration. "That expression is literally about what we're trying to do!"

  Cora flipped another page, glancing at a diagram on breech births. She noted the page number in her little notebook and planned to study it even closer when she could concentrate. She heard Mother sigh, then heard her flop back on the bed. Smiling to herself, Cora put a sticky note on the page to mark her place, then shut the book and turned her wheelchair around. "Feel better?"

  Mother stared at Cora's pink ceiling. When they had finished building the room, Mother let Cora decide what she wanted for decor. Pink and flowers ended up being Cora's choice, and though it wasn't Mother's particular taste, she had to admit the room oozed Cora's personality. Her new personality, that was. The soft, gentle, understanding woman that emerged from the horror of the accident. "No," Mother said in a whine.

  Cora rolled her chair over to her bed and patted Mother's leg. "You have to do this, and you know it. You're completely right that the weather could change and I guarantee as soon as a storm hits, they'll all look back and thank their lucky stars that they listened to you."

  Mother closed her eyes against the headache she'd had for weeks. "You almost sound like you know what you're talking about."

  "Gee, thanks," Cora said with a half smile.

  "I hate when they hate me," Mother admitted quietly.

  Cora felt bad for Mother. Being a member of the farmhouse let her see the vulnerable side of Mother that the others never did. She knew the pain Mother felt, how torn she was over difficult decisions. Cora wished she could take a snapshot of that very moment to show people, to help them see the vulnerability, the hurt, the pain of being in charge. But she couldn't. She knew it would undermine Mother on a level that could be very destructive. The most Cora could do was listen and help Mother deal with her demons.

  "I know," Cora said, struck with inspiration. "A festival. That's what we need. Let them start planning a harvest festival!"

  Mother snorted. "Another drunk bash, eh?"

  Cora shrugged. "It's worked in the past. Maybe make it more defined, though. A specific occasion."

  Mother pushed up on her elbow and tilted her head. "Like a holiday?"

  Cora clapped. "That's it! Newton's first official holiday!"

  Mother had to admit the idea had merit. "Hm. You think that'll be enough?"

  "Good food and loud music go a long way."

  "And the booze doesn't hurt, either."

  Cora grinned. "No, I can't say that it does."

  Mother sighed and got out of Cora's bed. She picked her hat up off the floor and placed it back on her head. "Thanks, Cora," she said, dropping a kiss on the woman's head.

  "Anytime," Cora said, squeezing Mother's hand that rested on her shoulder.

  "You want to sketch up some specifics on this holiday?"

  Cora loved planning. She loved holidays. In fact, she found that she loved almost everything again. She reveled in her newfound peace, and finally slept well at night, with no nightmares and no crying babies haunting the long, dark hours. Instead of loneliness, she felt that she was part of everything once more, a feeling she was sure was lost with everything else. For the first time in her life, the words of her guru were more than an impossible ideal. They had truth, they had meaning, they had a firm place inside and she embraced them. "I'd be happy to! How formal do you want to go?"

  Mother shrugged. "You know our group. I'd say stop short of tuxedos and evening gowns, but fancier than overalls and daisy dukes."

  Cora laughed. "So ice sculptures and a red carpet would probably be going too far?"

  Mother grinned, feeling worlds better for having vented. "Keep the red carpet. We have to make the paparazzi happy."

  Mother gave Cora another kiss on the head and walked out into the den. Striker was hovering. He always hovered when he had something to tell Mother that she wasn't going to be happy to hear. Hell, he had probably stood there waiting for her the whole time, hoping her mood would clear up a bit. She took a deep breath. "What is it now?" she asked.

  "I know you had a long day and all..."

  "Spit it out."

  "We lost a power grid."

  "Where?"

  "Neighborhood three."

  Mother rubbed her head, feeling the tension return. She counted to herself silently until she tamped back the throbbing. Neighborhood three would be needed in just a week. It was crucial to her expansion before the new members arrived. She needed to have her original people set up, spread out, and happy. It was critical that the newcomers find a happy population when they got there. It would set the tone and mood and help them settle in. "What happened?"

  Striker shook his head. "Nothing in our town. I think probably something up the highway toward Jackson went down."

  "Can we repair it?"

  Striker's eyes went wide. "Mother, there's a lot these hands can do, and there's a lot I can figure out as I go, but fucking around with high powered electrical lines isn't something you want to just take a wild stab at."

  Mother walked toward the kitchen. She needed coffee. She knew Striker would follow and got herself a cup, then motioned to the pot to offer some to him before sitting at the table and trying to think. She didn't want Striker fried. They needed him. More and more they relied on not only his talents with the technology, but his mind for strategy. "How much of the town is affected? Just that neighborhood?"

  Striker shook his head. "No, can't be just that one. But I haven't had time to assess the full extent."

  Mother drank her coffee and thought. "Okay. Our immediate ne
ed is neighborhood three. What are our power options?"

  Striker sat and flipped open the notebook he had. He never came to any kind of meeting with her unprepared anymore. He learned that lesson early on. "We've got generator, alternate electrical hook up, and solar for short term options."

  "Generators need fuel, right?"

  "Yes."

  Mother shook her head. "Then scratch that. We're running low. Next?"

  "Alternate electrical hook up." At her quizzical look, he explained. "Connect each powerless house to one with power."

  Mother frowned. "I thought the point was not to zap you?"

  "It is. It would be external. No harder than hooking up a series of extension cords."

  Mother tilted her head, thinking it over. "I don't know if I like the idea of cords running everywhere."

  Striker nodded. "I agree. Plus it'll put a strain on the other section of the grid. Double the draw." He shrugged. "That's a crap shoot. Might be fine, might not, and the only way to find out would be to do it. I've crunched some numbers and honestly it could go either way. Could it work? Maybe. Should we try it? My gut says no."

  Mother leaned back in her chair and rubbed her chin. "I don't think we should risk the other grids, either. If we have to, absolutely have to, we can just move into two neighborhoods for now. It's not ideal, especially when the others get here."

  "We've got one more option. Solar power," Striker said, tapping his notebook. "I've worked it out, and I think two industrial panels on each roof would provide plenty of juice for the average house."

  "You have that many?"

  Striker grinned. "I found some."

  "Enough for the whole town?"

  To Mother's surprise, Striker nodded. "Should be. It would take at least one whole day and a fair bit of gas to get there and back, but if we could take two semis down, maybe six people, we could fill the trucks and be in good shape. It would be enough to rig up every house we've got cleaned so far, and a couple dozen more for the future."

  Mother was impressed. "You know how to do this?"

  Striker shrugged. "Mostly. I've read instructions and it's not really any different than making a solar powered golf cart or robot. The wires are bigger, that's about it."

  Mother mulled it over. "How long would it take?"

  "Now that I don't know. I can handle the wiring on my own, but they're huge panels. I'd need help, a couple people at least to muscle them into place. I'd need some way to get to the top of the roof and some kind of harness to make sure I didn't fall off. And then there's the time to secure them and wire them in." He shrugged. "I won't know until I do it, but I'm fairly sure that if I can get down and get the panels soon, I can have the thirteen houses in neighborhood three done before the end of the month. Then I could rig up this house, just to make sure we've got juice this winter, and go from there."

  It was a solid plan. "I can't spare anyone at the moment," she said. "We should be done harvest in a couple days. After that I'll send Gus and Mack on up to Jackson to tap the DOT's diesel tanks. We haven't hit those yet. Pick your trucks and make sure your math is right on the gas you need. I don't want you breaking down halfway there because you ran out."

  Striker drained his coffee and jumped up. He loved it when she liked his ideas. It made life so much easier if she listened and nodded. "Yes ma'am. On it."

  "And Striker?" Mother said before he left.

  "Yeah?" he asked, turning around.

  "That was an excellent presentation."

  Striker beamed and felt his face turn red. He gave a little salute, then turned and had to skirt around Eve on his way out the door.

  "Watch where you're going!" Eve snapped.

  "You're in a fine mood," Mother said.

  Eve gave her a bland look before plopping into a chair. Stealth and Wolf came in through the porch door, and a gust of wind blew in behind them.

  "Hey, Princess," Stealth said to Mother, taking his coat off and running a hand through his windblown hair. He nodded at Eve. "Brat."

  "Don't call me that," Eve snapped.

  Stealth put his hands in the air. "Ooh, looks like rough times in Camelot tonight. What's got your panties in a twist this time?"

  Eve glared at him, wondering why she ever thought he was handsome or charming. "For your information, I'm on the rag." She turned to Mother. "And we're just about out, by the way, so put them on the list."

  Wolf turned away and walked right out of the room without a word.

  "We've got to have more in store," Mother said.

  Eve shook her head. "I already went out and checked." They'd been using the loft of the barn to hold their paper goods, soaps, and other personal hygiene products.

  Mother frowned. "We just got those cases of pads last week."

  "Should I let you ladies talk in private?" Stealth asked.

  "Why?" said Eve. "It's just something fifty percent of humanity has to deal with every fucking month. If I have to bloat and cramp and bleed, you can hear the word 'pad'. I bet you could even hear the word 'tampon' and live. Or vagina."

  Mother couldn't help it and threw her head back and laughed. "Holy shit you're on a tear this time!"

  Stealth laughed, too. It seemed to piss Eve off, which was just an added bonus. "Yikes. Way to perpetuate a stereotype, brat!"

  Eve glared harder and crossed her arms over her chest. "And why shouldn't I say what's on my mind? Having your period sucks. Having it now, when we're almost out of rags or corks sucks even worse."

  "Corks?" Stealth squeaked, on a fresh burst of laughter. "Corks!"

  "It's not funny!"

  Mother felt tears forming in her eyes as she laughed harder, too. Though she was a woman and certainly shared Eve's frustrations with the issues that grew more and more problematic every month, the way Eve said things was just too much sometimes. "Oh god," she said, wiping her eyes and catching her breath. "Thank you, Eve. I needed that."

  Eve fought her own smile. It was rare to see Mother laugh like that, and even though it was at her expense, it was very nice to hear. "I'm glad it amuses you. You only find it funny because you don't start until next week. We need feminine products and we need them now."

  Wolf had been coming back into the room, deeming the laughter an indication of a shift in conversation. He walked in right as Eve mentioned feminine products, looked at Mother's face, then turned and left the room again. That was enough for Mother, and she lost it once more. When she could finally truly get herself under control she had Eve make a note in the raiding list.

  "How's the toilet paper situation?" she asked.

  "We always need more," Eve said.

  Mother sighed. While it was fun to joke, the lack of basic supplies was becoming more and more serious. They were having to travel farther each time they needed items, and it was easy to overlook certain things as being essential in the beginning. Pads, tampons, they never crossed her mind until she needed them and they were gone. A town of over forty used a lot of toilet paper. They got through last time they ran out using paper towels, but had some clogged plumbing to deal with afterwards. Now every time she sent people out on raids, she ordered them to fill up any available space with toilet paper. What they really needed was a big warehouse raid. They just needed to find enough gas to pull it off and a secure location to store the precious goods.

  Mother snorted at that thought. Whoever would have thought toilet paper and maxi pads would become precious goods?

  It wasn't just those items. There were dozens of small products that people just took for granted before. Salt, that was a biggie. They went through salt fast, not just in cooking, but for preserving the fish Gus and his team caught. All seasonings in general were used much quicker than Mother expected. Medicines, too. Not the powerful ones. Those drugs were locked in her basement and used sparingly. But aspirin, acetaminophen, ibuprofen and other over the counter mild pain killers were consumed to fight the aches and pains of their new lives in great amounts. One pill to every person
in town was all it took to finish off a whole bottle in only a couple days.

  Every day there was some new lack. Every day, the evidence of their situation hammered home just a little deeper. One day, there would be no more maxi pads to find in raids. One day, there would be no more toilet paper. The factories that made them had no one to push the buttons, to mix the chemicals, to make more. One day, they would be out of all of those products and they had less time than Mother thought to figure out how to live without them. If she let herself dwell, the scream would rise fresh.

  "We're going to finish harvesting," Mother told the group. "Then we'll raid Jackson for gas and diesel and plan for a huge scavenge before winter. Eve, make a list of all the essentials we'll need, even if you think we might have enough for now. We've got to grab while we can."

  "Got it." Eve scribbled in the notebook. "Can we send someone out tomorrow for rags? I wasn't kidding, and I'm not the only one who needs them this week."

  "Hey Wolf," Stealth called into the other room. He waited until Wolf was in the doorway. "Go on down to the store and get brat here some tampons."

  Wolf stared at the man for a second before crossing the kitchen and walking right out the door. Stealth threw his head back and laughed again when the porch door slammed. "He makes it way too easy."

  Mother rolled her eyes. "Is the Council coming tonight?" she asked Eve, changing the subject.

  "No. Tomorrow."

  Mother nodded. "Good. Then everyone get some sleep. Day off tomorrow, and a final push. I think we can be done by the end of the week."

  "It would go faster if everyone helped," Eve said, giving a pointed look towards Stealth.

  Stealth gave her his most charming look, noting the spark of interest still in the girl's eyes in spite of her attitude towards him. "Do these look like hands that are meant for hard labor?" He held his hands up and leaned forward. "These hands are the hands of a lover, strong and soft and gentle, designed to caress and bring a woman to the peak of..."

  "Stealth," Mother said firmly.

  Stealth stared into Eve's eyes and saw the heat of her embarrassment creep up her cheeks. He heard her take a ragged breath, then he finished her off by winking. Eve's eyes turned cold and angry and she pushed back from the table and stormed off in a huff.

  "Why do you do that?" Mother asked with a sigh.

  "To scare her," Stealth admitted. "She's almost done mooning after me. Piss her off enough and she'll be over it." As cute as Eve was, he had no plans on letting her have a crush. He'd never do anything in that direction. She was too young and had been hurt already. And even though part of him could easily overlook those facts for the fun tumble he knew it would be, it would hurt his Princess, and that was something he vowed to try his best to avoid.

  "You shouldn't screw around with her emotions," Mother warned him. "I've been living with her since January, and I can tell you it's a dangerous game you play this time of month."

  Stealth leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head. "I live for danger."

  Wolf came in and looked at Mother. "Are you done with you lady talk?" His stance and tone of voice clearly showed his annoyance.

  "Yes, you big baby." Mother waved to the coffee pot. "It's fresh."

  "Who made it?"

  "Cora," she answered drolly.

  Wolf crossed to the pot and poured himself a coffee like it was a lifeline. He chugged the first cup, then looked to Mother for permission for the second. He knew the coffee supply was getting critical, and always asked before he took a second serving. Mother nodded her approval, and he poured another before sitting down.

  "People are pissed," Wolf said, getting right to the point. It's why Stealth had come to him after the community dinner well past dark, and why they decided to approach Mother together. If it was for her, they could put their differences aside.

  "I know," she admitted.

  "It's inevitable, Princess," Stealth said to try and soften the blow.

  "Stop calling her that," Wolf said. Stealth had an annoying habit of making up nicknames for people. Mostly, Wolf didn't care. Eve was a brat, so it fit. Striker was a geek, Cora was a fair maiden, Mack was a bubba. Mostly the names were fine. But every time he called Mother "Princess", Wolf wanted to beat the shit out of Stealth.

  "Boys," Mother said to them in her best warning tone. She was sick of that particular back and forth. "I know people are pissed," she said, getting the conversation back on track. "I've given them tomorrow off, and Cora's going to announce a holiday. A big one with booze and music."

  "And groping in dark corners?" Stealth asked hopefully. Wolf scoffed, Mother laughed.

  "If we're lucky."

  Stealth waggled his eyebrows. "Meet me in a dark corner, Princess?"

  If Mother thought Stealth's flirting was serious, she would have put a stop to it. But he joked with everyone. It was just who Stealth was, his way of disarming people who needed disarming and charming those who needed to be charmed. She did get a little thrill out of the fact that it irritated Wolf so badly, though. "Wait in a dark corner and see what happens," she said lightly.

  "Can we get serious here?" Wolf demanded. "They're really pissed. I don't know if a little party will be enough this time."

  Stealth got serious and nodded in agreement. "Gus said it's brewing good with a couple of them."

  "Real threats this time or just talk?" Mother asked.

  "Real threats."

  Mother sighed and pulled out the roll of antacids from her pocket that she found herself chewing on more and more. She crunched a couple as she thought, then washed them down with coffee.

  "You know coffee is full of acid, right?" Stealth pointed out.

  Mother shrugged. "Then one just cancels out the other and I'm no worse than when I started with the added bonus of having the delicious taste of chalk in my mouth and turbo juice running through my veins. Now," she said, tapping the table with her finger for emphasis. "What's the threat?"

  "Withdrawal," Wolf said. "Three or four are actually making a plan to request their cases and tents."

  Mother swore and sat back, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning while she thought it over. "We've already lost enough," she said, almost to herself. "I started with forty eight less than a year ago, and already lost Fred and Harold."

  If Stealth or Wolf felt any guilt over the "loss" of Harold, they didn't show it. They schooled their features to stay firm, hold fast to their secret. Harold had remembered, and he was biding his time. Stealth simply refused to let him have that chance, and Wolf helped him add the body to the bottom of a burn pile. When Mother had noticed Harold was missing from the work detail a few days after, Stealth told her he thought the man just couldn't take it anymore and packed up and left. While Wolf had a suspicion that Mother didn't buy the story, she also hadn't pressed the issue any further.

  "Those aren't great numbers," she said.

  "Shit happens, Princess. You can't keep everyone safe. They're people. If they want to go, let them."

  Wolf knew differently. It wasn't a matter of Newton losing people so much as it was a potential danger in the future. Defectors would have more incentive than anyone else to join up with an enemy or provide damaging information about Newton and its weaknesses. On a personal level, it would also break Mother's heart to see them leave. She would torture herself, wondering what she could have or should have done differently to get her sheep to stay in the flock. Stealth would track them and get rid of them before they presented a problem if he thought it was necessary. Wolf would keep his mouth shut and make excuses if the time came when she noticed Stealth was missing for a few days. That was Stealth's job, his concern. Wolf's job was Mother, and if he could head off watching her put herself through a hell of guilt, he would.

  "I know supplies are low, but what if you bribed them?" Wolf suggested.

  Mother quirked an eyebrow. "Getting involved with town crap, Wolf?"

  He shrugged. "Trying to nip a problem in the bud
."

  "Bribes are good," Stealth agreed. "People like bribes."

  Mother rubbed her chin. "What did you have in mind?"

  "Maybe a ration of coffee and a coffee pot for each house. Right now that's only fifteen cans, fifteen pots. We could go out tonight and find that up in Jackson."

  It was a damn good idea and Mother grinned at Wolf. "You're turning into a damn fine people person."

  Wolf gave her a bland stare in response.

  Mother jumped up and put on her coat. "Bribery it is, then! Field trip!" She was excited to go out on a raid, especially one that would be a complete surprise to her town. It wasn't much, in the grand scheme of things. A can of coffee and a coffee pot were very small tokens. But Wolf was right, and it would, hopefully, head off trouble for the time being. It would buy her the couple more days of hard work she needed out of the folks, and then they'd get a huge reward. A festival, a harvest feast. A huge booze-filled blow out and probably some steamy romance in the shadows, as Stealth said. And then they would move into their new houses, and then they would get the ego boost of being role models to the new members. It would work. It had to. She simply did not have any better ideas.

  They drove up to Jackson in the moonlight. Mother and Stealth chatted as they held on for dear life. Wolf's driving got more and more daring as he shed the inhibitions of outdated driving laws and old restrictions one by one. He didn't have to follow the speed limits. He didn't have to yield at lights. He didn't have to signal before turning and he certainly didn't have to drive defensively. With no one to pull him over, his only limits were those of the automobile and his own driving skills. And boy, did it feel good to step on the gas.

  They reached Jackson in no time and rolled around some long dead traffic towards the far side of town where they hadn't spent much time raiding. Wolf had seen a small grocery store almost outside of town when he'd come through all those months ago, and through it took awhile to find, he was glad to see that his memory was correct as they pulled into the lot. There were two cars parked to the side, covered in all that nature deposited over the year. Wolf nodded to Stealth, and the two hopped out to scope the area. Mother knew by then that any argument was useless, and sat to wait in the car and watch them prowl under the thin, purplish glow from the store's streetlights.

  When they deemed the area safe, they motioned for Mother to join them. Wolf had his hand pulled into the sleeve of his leather trench coat and was just about to break open the door when Mother stopped him.

  "Oh let me, please? It's been forever since I had a good round of smash therapy."

  Wolf stepped back, and Stealth grinned. "Smash therapy, huh? I like it."

  Mother gave him a smile and a nod, then pulled her hand into her own sleeve to protect it from broken glass. She pulled back her elbow and closed her eyes before slamming it through the pane. Though it hurt on one level, it felt so damn good on another and she felt something inside relax. "The best therapy there is," she said, grinning at Stealth.

  Stealth bowed and pointed to the open store. "An excellent therapy session, my lady. After you."

  "Why thank you, gallant sir." Mother bowed her head regally and ignored Wolf's impatient sigh. Inside, she flicked on the light switch. The lights didn't work. "Methinks we shall have to raideth in candle light, my knights."

  Wolf rolled his eyes and took out a flashlight. "You two are idiots," he said, pushing past them.

  "You wound me," Mother said, pulling her own flashlight out and starting down the aisle. "Here I was trying to add a little class to our excursion..." she stopped speaking as her light fell on a decomposed body. "Oh," she said quietly.

  Stealth came up behind her. "Yuck."

  Mother frowned and crouched closer, ignoring Stealth's warning. It was odd. There was no mess, no gore. The body looked dry. The hair was fuzzy and long, the nails on the hand looked like claws, and the skin on the face was pulled tight, revealing a toothy grimace.

  "We got a stiff," Stealth called to Wolf.

  Wolf was there in no time, pulling on Mother's arm. "Back away."

  "Why isn't it all rotten?" Mother asked. She pushed at an arm with the toe of her shoe and it was hard. "It's almost like a mummy." It was fascinating. Terrifyingly fascinating and she couldn't look away.

  "It's been awhile," Stealth said, pulling the scarf he always wore when they went to new places up over his mouth. "He passed the gory stage and dried up."

  "That doesn't mean it's safe to be close," Wolf pointed out. Her curiosity would be the death of them both one of these days, and he tugged again. "Step back. You don't know what you're breathing in."

  "It doesn't even really smell in here," Mother said. She stood and stepped back, because she knew Wolf's patience only went so far and he'd move her himself if she didn't heed his warning. Still, she kept her light on the body and looked on in wonder as she pulled the collar of her teeshirt up over her mouth and nose to appease Wolf. "Why doesn't it even smell?"

  "Time," said Stealth. "Time cleans up every mess."

  "I thought we were here for coffee?" Wolf said. He knew that look in Mother's eye, and if he let her stay, she'd probably work herself up into a week of nightmares. "Come on."

  Mother knew they were right, and she reluctantly turned and began scanning the aisles for coffee and any other treats. They got some boxes from the back of the store and filled them with whatever coffee they found. Mother filled another box with maxi pads and toilet paper, then wiped out what little chocolate she could find that wasn't past it's expiry date. Coffee and chocolate for the people, pads and toilet paper for Eve, and her life might just be a little easier the next day. They loaded up their supplies in the back of the jeep then headed for an appliance store they'd raided for the second stove and refrigerator for Mother's farmhouse.

  Stealth didn't like how quiet Mother was. He tried to get her back in the joking mood, but it was clear her heart wasn't into it. He couldn't tell if she was sad, or merely contemplative. He always had a little trouble reading her moods when she got that way. He found it both frustrating and refreshing. Most people wore their thoughts on their sleeves. He could tell when Mother was pissed. She made no secrets about that, especially when she was pissed at the people closest to her. And he could tell when she was sad and scared enough to lose it. But sometimes, she just got quiet and kept everything to herself.

  They pulled up to the appliance store and went through the routine of checking the parking lot, even though both Wolf and Stealth knew the odds of anyone choosing an appliance store of all places to claim as their new kingdom were very slim. Still, they needed to stay sharp, and there was a protocol to follow. After it was clear, they led Mother inside. The lights still worked and they quickly found all sorts of coffee pots. Though it all barely fit in the jeep, they managed to secure their load with appliance straps from the store, and in less than a half hour, they were on the road back to town.

  Mother stayed silent as they unloaded the booty into the main house, leaving it stacked in the den for distribution first thing in the morning. Mother absently dismissed Stealth for the night, then headed down into her basement, her mind still on the body. After her shower, she stood and looked in the mirror. Her hair was getting too long again, and she pulled the scissors from the drawer and trimmed off a few inches. When she was done, she went to Wolf's room and stood in the doorway until he looked up.

  "I think I'll go visit Chuck tomorrow."

  Wolf made a face. "God, why?"

  "I want to make sure he's okay with finding people all dried out like that."

  Of all the things Wolf thought Mother was mulling over, that didn't even cross his mind. He thought she had been trying to cope with what she saw, not worrying about Chuck. Wolf shut the book he was reading and crossed his arms. "Why wouldn't he be okay?"

  Mother shrugged. "You know how special the shells are to him. I want to make sure he's handling the change. He has gotten pretty quiet these days."

  "I'll go with
you." While he didn't think Chuck was a threat, he also knew the man was warped. If there was one thing Wolf could be absolutely certain of in life, it was that no one could plan for crazy.

  Mother nodded and went to bed, satisfied with her decision. Chuck was special. He and his crew did a job no one should ever have to, and they asked nothing in return. She hadn't paid him much attention recently, and checking in with him one-on-one was probably a good idea, for many reasons.

  In the morning, Mother called up few people to deliver the coffee, pots, and chocolate. "Let them know these are gifts for their hard work, with my gratitude," she told Steve.

  Steve smiled. "So, you're bribing us?"

  Mother gave a shrug. "Is it working?"

  Steve's grin widened. "Oh hell yeah." He gathered up the bribes and the few people who'd help make the deliveries and set off. Mother took the pot, coffee, and chocolate she had set aside to deliver personally, and she and Wolf left to make their way to Chuck's house.

  Chuck lived with two members of his cleaning crew, Cindy and a man named Carl. They called themselves The Three C's, and even wrote it on the backs of their jackets. They were one unit, they functioned as a single entity, and Mother had to admire their determination. She knocked on their door and waited. Chuck answered in long underwear and boots. Mother had long since given up being surprised by what the man wore.

  "My fair Mother! What brings you to our hovel so early on this fine morning?"

  Mother held out the coffee pot. "I come bearing gifts, a thank you for all the hard work everyone's been doing in the fields."

  "Is that a coffee pot?" Cindy asked, coming to the door behind Chuck.

  "And coffee and chocolate," Mother said with a smile.

  Chuck rubbed his hands together briskly and stepped aside. "A gift! We get a gift!" he called over his shoulder. "Come in, come in!"

  Mother entered and tried not to feel uncomfortable. Chuck was odd, there was no question. And anyone who did the clean out work day in and day out would also be odd. The house they shared was, at best, bizarre. The people of Newton were allowed to keep any nonessentials they found in raids, and use them to decorate, enhance their lives, or trade however they saw fit. The living room the The Three C's house was covered in old paintings, portraits of people no one knew that stared down from every angle with cold, painted eyes. Where there weren't portraits, there were taxidermy specimens. Not deer heads or antlers. Those would have been too normal. There was a stuffed squirrel on the mantle wearing a top hat. There was a beaver by the fire place, and someone had glued a monocle to its face. There was a composite animal placed on a wooden perch that looked to be an amalgamation of an owl body, raven wings, and the head of a skunk. It was utterly Chuck, and utterly creepy.

  "I'd like to talk to you for a moment, Chuck," Mother said, hoping she didn't seem as antsy on the outside as she felt on the inside.

  Chuck pointed to the couch, and old Victorian affair that looked both out of place and perfectly natural in the bizarre world of The Three C's. Mother sat carefully on the edge.

  "Wolfie can sit, too," Chuck said, pointing to an empty chair.

  Wolf stood at the door, firmly keeping the classic stance of a top agent. Mother knew he made Chuck nervous, but she also knew there was no way in hell she'd convince Wolf to stand down in such a place. "I think Wolf would prefer to stand. Come. Sit. Chat."

  Chuck cast a quick look in Wolf's direction. "Okay," he said eventually. "But it's rude to ignore the rules of other peoples' houses."

  Mother patted the seat next to her. "It's okay, Chuck. You know Wolf doesn't mean it personally. He's just rude to everyone."

  Chuck sat and turned his attention to Mother. "What is it that troubles the fair maiden today?"

  He was giving her the creepy look again, but she did her best to ignore it. "I'm not troubled, just concerned. I'm wondering how the cleaning is going?"

  "Aren't we fast enough? I can make them work faster," Chuck said quickly, starting to fidget with agitation and worry. The one thing he had in life was the clean outs. The very thought that she might take them away set him on edge.

  Mother swallowed and only hesitated a second before she covered his cold hand with hers to calm him. "Yes. You've been working at an excellent pace and I'm very pleased."

  Chuck stopped fidgeting and his mouth spread into a wide, yellow-toothed grin. "I am relieved to hear our services meet your approval! Maybe I won't flog my crew after all." He gave her a wink.

  Mother wished she could be more certain that Chuck was joking. She took her hand back and folded it on her lap, fighting the urge to wipe it off on her pants. She truly admired Chuck and the other C's on a deep, honest level. They did what she could not. They cleaned so life could begin. Without them there would be no Newton. She owed them a lot, and she cut them a whole lot of slack. They held a top spot in her town and she aimed to see it always remained that way. However, she still couldn't shake the heebie jeebies Chuck gave her.

  "I'm just worried more about you," Mother said carefully.

  "You worry about me?" Chuck said in a childlike tone.

  "All of you. The three of you. I know how much you value those that you're, uh..."

  "Ushering into their final stage," Chuck said with deep reverence in his voice.

  There really is a beauty to what they do and how they do it, Mother thought. "Yes. And I know that time is...changing them."

  Chuck nodded. "Mummification."

  Mother nodded and swallowed again. Boy it was hot in the house. "Exactly. And I don't know your personal religious views, or anything like that. I just wanted to make sure everyone's handling it all okay."

  Chuck sat back and looked at Mother. She didn't understand. There was a quick stab of disappointment as he accepted that fact. He'd always thought that they were simpatico, kindreds. Yet now, it was clear that she didn't understand. "It's not about what they look like," he said, with something like sympathy in his voice.

  "I know I saw one all dried out and it...moved me," she said, trying to be diplomatic.

  "Yes, but you have been away from the calling for too long. We've been watching them change." He tapped his head. "We've been keeping up."

  Mother nodded. "Good. I just wanted to make sure."

  Chuck felt better. No, she didn't understand. But at least she tried. There was still the Mother he knew and loved. Why, she was checking on them personally, even if she clearly didn't have to. He smiled again. "If it's too much, these changes, I'll be glad to do the burns."

  Mother shook her head quickly. "We've had this talk before."

  "I thought I'd softened you up," he said, leaning forward. Wolf stiffened at the look he saw in Chuck's face, a move that was not lost on Chuck. "Your guard is a little touchy today."

  Mother saw trouble brewing if they stayed. She stood and laughed. "Don't you remember from Walmart that he's not a morning person?" She held her hand out. "I'm glad to see you're all doing well, Chuck."

  Chuck stood and grabbed her hand, then bent and kissed it. "You are welcome anytime," he said, giving another stomach-turning smile. "And you just let me know if you want me to do the burns."

  Mother pulled her hand away and left with as much decorum as she could muster. They climbed in the golf cart they'd taken down and were well clear of the house before Wolf spoke. "Go ahead and shake out the willies."

  It was exactly what Mother wanted to do, but his words made her stubbornly refuse. She clamped her hand on her lap and refuse to admit it had been an uncomfortable visit. "I'm glad they're handling it. You just never know with him what's going to be set him off."

  "I guess dead is dead."

  It wasn't, at least not for Mother. There were differences in the stages of death and decomposition, and the night before, she'd learned that for herself. She had been scared, not of the dried out shell they found, but of how cold and detached she felt when she looked at it. She had been scared of her reaction, or lack thereof. It made her feel inhu
man, and it was that thought that had kept her awake all night in fear that she was turning into a monster.

  "Two crises averted so far," Wolf said, trying to break Mother's silence and pull her out of her own head. "Not a bad day's work."

  Mother snorted. "It's not even breakfast yet," she said.

  "Always good to be ahead of schedule," Wolf said, giving her a rare smile and hoping it did the trick.

  Mother sighed as he stopped in front of the house and got out. "All it means is that we get to move things up we were going to put off till tomorrow." She felt better for seeing Chuck. She felt better for giving her people the bribes. As she passed the open barn door, she heard people call their thanks and knew it just might be enough to keep them chugging. The sun was out and the wind had died down. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wasn't a monster. Not yet. A monster wouldn't care about any of those things. She turned and decided to prove it by eating breakfast with the town.

  Wolf hesitated for a second before following. There was something simmering below the surface with Mother, and he couldn't figure it out. She should be her bubbly self after averting a crisis, and she wasn't. Something was going on in her head after she saw that body, and it didn't have anything to do with Chuck like she claimed. Wolf would just have to watch and wait. She'd either tell him or get over it on her own, and no amount of pressing on his part would make the process happen faster. Maybe after the harvest, she could relax. Maybe then she'd get back to humming. He followed her into the barn to take up his perpetual spot by the door, always watching, always waiting, always there.