Wordlessly her troops fell in behind her; Cohen and Zhou
on flank and Maasi covering their rear.
There was no expectation of human conflict, but the resurgence of the
wolf and polar bear populations in the last 10 years had made travel outside
the human settlements more perilous.
The nearest settlement was over 50 miles away and no one had been to
this area in many years.
If the satellite scans had not picked up signs of human
life out here, no one would ever have reason to come this way. Before the Fall, this had been one of the
more remote parts of Yukon-Charlie Rivers National Preserve and only visited by
extreme sports nuts and dedicated backpackers.
But after the scan, a search of the records found a small private parcel
out here that had belonged to the Reynolds family for over 100 years.
Frank Reynolds had followed the lure of gold to the Yukon
River in the 1890’s but after the gold ran out, he stayed with his Athapaskan wife. They tried to homestead but gave up and
moved to Anchorage before the first world war.
They kept the land and the small cabin, returning every year to visit
his wife’s family and maintain their children’s connection to the land and the
tribe. The family had been successful
and fruitful, but many moved away or lost interest in their grandmother’s
people. By the time of the Fall only one
descendent still held the deed to the land and still made the annual trek. His name was Adam Reynolds and if he was the
man on the satellite, he was now 42 years old.
_______________
In his small wood cabin, Adam
hummed gently to himself as he stirred a pot of dried beans flavored with
smoked bear fat. He had barely had enough salt to preserve all of his harvest
this year. Come spring he was going to
have to risk a trip to the settlement.
He had spied it one day from on top of one of the higher hills to the
south, the wood smoke a stain on the sky. He had been here in his cabin for 10
years, hiding if he was honest with himself. On his original trip to the cabin,
he had found Pete wandering the streets.
He was a lab mix with a collar and a name tag but no master left alive. A trip to a nearby abandoned Town had found
Scout, a neutered Maine Coon with fur so matted that he had had to practically
shave her. They had been good company,
but Pete had past two years ago and Scout was unlikely to last the winter. He
had not spoken to another human since Sally’s death.
The first year, before the
batteries in his radio died, he had listened to broadcasts of the mayhem and
death around the world from what they had begun calling the Fall. After what he
himself had seen before his retreat to the cabin, he had decided he was better
off alone than in a world gone mad. He
had watched as one friend after another died of the strange disease - Fred,
Yuko, Gene, Bob, Steve, Aaron, Sheila, and even Ronnie, his 12-year old godson. He and Sally both had been had death’s door
but somehow survived.
But the worst was not the
disease but those left behind – looters, killers, grief-maddened lunatics. The woman that stabbed Sally had been crying
as she wielded a kitchen knife, calling for a man named Walt.
As his wife lay dying in his arms,
she reached up to touch his cheek and told him to go to the cabin, back to the
place that gave him peace, that reminded him of his parents, the place that
told him who he was. Unwilling to part
with her, he loaded her body in his plane and took her with him to the cabin
where he buried her in the cemetery beside his great-great-aunt Beatrice, who
died of diphtheria in 1902.
_____________
The time to pitch camp had come and gone almost ½ an hour
ago but the women pushed on; their target was now only a few hundred yards
away. The breeze was turning into a
strong wind, but was not yet the gale that freezes skin on contact. When they
spotted the snowy hulk of an old Cesna, Hlinka was sure they were close. The aluminum siding of the plane had been
scavenged to re-enforce a timber enclosure, probably a garden. Knowing their
target was close, they pushed on and now arrived at the cabin where chimney
smoke, whisked away by the growing wind, indicated life inside.
Weapons lowered but at ready the troops waited for Hlinka
to knock on the door. There was no
answer. After a minute, Cohen pushed
ahead of Hlinka.
“He’ll never think that a human could be here. You have to be more distinctive.”
She rapped sharply seven times, muttering under her
breath, “Shave and a haircut, two bits.”
This time a small slot, high on the door, opened and
firelight leaked out into the growing dark.
“What do you want?”
“That’s real hospitable!” drawled Cohen. “You got five
freezing women on your doorstep in a middle of a freakin’ arctic wind storm and
all you can say is ‘what do you want?’”, she mockingly lowered her voice to
repeat his words. “Open the damn door and let us in. If we wanted trouble, we would have just shot
our way in.” She jerked her weapon in the air, carefully aiming it away from
the troops and the cabin.
________________
Shocked eyes gazed down at the women, armed to the teeth.
Knowing she was right and that his 38 was no match for their firepower, even if
he had wanted to fight, Adam set the rifle aside and undid the bolts on the
door. “I guess it doesn’t matter”, he
thought, “I had already resigned myself to going to the settlement in the
spring. I guess civilization couldn’t
wait for me.”
He pulled open the cabin door and the women wasted no time
in getting in the door into the relative warmth. Even with the fire, it was only about 50
degrees Fahrenheit in the cabin but with the wind chill it was already 20 below
outside. They busied themselves
stripping off their outwear and stowing them with their weapons and packs on a
bench along the wall. The room was fairly spacious for a cabin with benches on
two walls and a loft over the stove where two beds could be seen. A smaller
daybead was tucked against the wall on the other side of the door. Having
surveyed their surroundings, they turned to look at Adam.
He was surprised that none of the women were as young as
he had assumed they would be. He had no experience with military but he had
thought a dangerous mission like this would have been assigned to young troops
in their prime. The blond, the redhead,
and the two darkhaired women looked at least past 35; the dark-skinned woman
had the sort of ageless face seen on some of her race. She could have been 25 or 50. Something in the bone structure suggested she
was an African, not an American.
“I suppose introductions are in order.” This came from the
blonde, her voice heavy with a Slavic accent. “I am Olga Hlinka. These are
companions Jaihue Zhou, Selena Gomez, and Wanjiku Maasi. You have already met Francesca Cohen.” She
gestured to the redhead who shot her finger at him and said ‘Yo’.
A tumble of questions filled his mind, but the one that
made it to his mouth was “Francesca Cohen?”, with emphasis on
each name separately to underline the disparity.
“Yeah, my pop was a nice Jewish boy who had good fortune
to fall in love with a nice Italian goyim. I grew up on challah with my
lasagna. Call me Chessy.”
Adam couldn’t help smiling. She reminded him of the
friends he made in New York as a student at Columbia.
“Well, my name is …”
“Adam Reynolds?” Olga interrupted.
Adam paused before nodding. “So I take it this was not a
chance finding. You came out here
looking for me.” It was not a question.
Olga simply nodded.
“Look this is kind of a long story and I’m starving. Can we sit down and eat while we tell it?”
Chessy interrupted. Seeing the
hesitation on Adam’s face, “Don’t worry man, the fire is enough hospitality; we
got our own rations.”
Adam opened up the table and pulled out the leaf that
hadn’t been used since his childhood, making room for six to sit. Out of the
corner of his eye, he saw a pink nose with silver and black fur peeking out
from under the bed.
“I hope none of you are allergic to cats.”
“No” said Olga, “none of us is allergic.”
“Yup,” Adam thought, “Olga’s definitely the leader of this
troop. Probably has some title like Captain or Sergeant or something.” He
transferred his meal to his bowl – fatback beans and venison jerky.
_______________
Zhou pulled the rations out of their packs and passed them
to her troopmates. The Man, as they had
so long thought of him, put a pitcher of water and some tin cups on the
table. He eyes followed her as she
distributed the packets of meals and crackers which they all began to open them
and eat.
“What are those packets? Astronaut food?” he asked.
“I wish,” quipped Cohen. “These are MRE’s – Meals Ready to
Eat or as I like to say ‘Meals, Rarely Edible’. They got so much salt and so
little fiber, if you eat ‘em a couple of days, you end up with your guts
plugged up tight.” Zhou and Gomez laughed at Chessy, but Hlinka and Maasi
quietly radiated disapproval.
“Tight-asses” thought Gomez.
Without saying a word, The Man got up, opened a cabinet by
the door, and returned with a glass jar of something dark sealed on top with
white wax. He stuck his knife in the
fire for a moment and then ran it around the edges. He quickly stuck the knife
into the center, withdrawing the wax.
“Here, at least I can offer you something decent for those
crackers. I got a good harvest of raspberries this year, have some jam.”
“Thank you,” said Hlinka, slightly surprised.
As the last of the beans and crackers were eaten, they all
feel the pull of the slumber.
“Look,” said The Man, “I doubt whatever it is you have to
tell me will be improved by fatigue or worsened by time. Let’s all get some sleep and hash this out in
the morning. I doubt anyone’s going anywhere for at least a day, not in this storm.
Might have more snow by morning.”
____________
“That is not the forecast,” Wanjiku spoke for the first
time. “Ah,” Adam thought, “I was right, she is African.” He laughed.
“Yeah, has weather forecasting improved that much in 10
years? Trust me, I know this land and there’s a good chance there’ll be snow on
the ground in the morning.”
“I never trust the weatherwoman” said Selena with a
grin. “Argentina?” thought Adam, “this
group is like ‘It’s a Small World’ goes to Alaska. What the hell have I gotten
into?”
Adam offered his queen-size bed in the loft to the women
as well as the second, full-size bed and offered to stay in the daybed down
below. Olga seemed to consider this for
a moment but accepted. He thought “She
must’ve realized that, even if I tried to make a break for it in the middle of
the night, where would I go?”
Once in the loft, he heard them whispering as he drifted
off.
__________
Cohen woke to the smell of smoked fish and raw
onions. Cursing, she realized that she
was the last in bed and fumbled into her sweater and pants on over her
thermals. Turning to the lower area, a strange sight greeted her.
Maasi was sitting on the bench stroking the huge black and
silver cat in her lap. Hlinka sat at the table dicing onions while Zhou stirred
a bowl of dough. Neither The Man not Garcia were in view but their boots were
still at the door. Swinging down the
loft ladder, she saw The Man at the stove stirring a pot which she suspected
was the source of the wonderful fish aroma. Hlinka took the board of diced
onions over and added them to the pot before starting on a few bright orange
carrots. Garcia’s head popped up from a
hatch in the floor, her arms laden with wood.
“Oh, looks like Sleeping Beauty decided to grace us with
her presence,” quipped Garcia, nodding her head towards Cohen. She knew was
going to get shit for oversleeping.
“Ah you’re just jealous ‘cause no amount of sleep is going
to improve your mug,” Cohen shot back.
“Are you guys always like this?” asked The Man, “Or is it
the tight spaces?”
“They’re always like this” said Zhou, Hlinka, and Maasi
together. Everyone laughed.
As The Man added the carrots to the pot, he said “This is
going take 30-40 minutes to cook up. I think it’s time for that talk.”
His word broke the easy mood and the tension of the night
before return. Without another word, they all gathered at the table. The Man handed Cohen a cup of coffee made
from the ration packs. He sipped his.
“God! I haven’t had coffee in 10 years. Even with no milk
or sugar, its heaven.”
“You think this crap is heaven? You have been out here too long,” said Cohen.
Hlinka cleared her thought, “Perhaps I should explain what
has happen in the outside world…”
___________
They had called it the Fall because it came so suddenly
and struck so hard. By the time of the
first death, there were already cases in 50 countries on every continent. Two
things became quickly apparent: 1. Almost half the women who got sick would
die, 2. Every man that got sick died.
Even with the speed at which it spread, not everyone got sick at the
same time. It took almost six months for
it to run its course by which time there was not a man left alive on Earth.
____________
Adam sat stunned.
He thought back to that time.
There were so many deaths, he never realized until now that he didn’t
know a single man that survived getting sick.
Except for himself. Looking around the table at these women, his blood
ran cold. They were here to check on him
or bring him back to the fold. They were
here to collect him, like a rare animal – the last passenger pigeon at the zoo.
“So the world needs a stud so the human race doesn’t die
out?” he asked bitterly.
“Not exactly,” replied Olga, “Many of the urban areas had
enough women left to maintain power stations and electric grids. We have viable sperm samples and embryos in
the thousands. The problem is the
virus. It’s still here. You had it and
survived?”
“Yes,…” said Adam.
“Good, otherwise you’re a dead man walking. The virus is
everywhere. Every woman, every child
has it dormant in them, waiting to strike.”
“I don’t understand,” said Adam.
“For some reason it only expresses itself in individuals
who have reached puberty. Within a few years of the Fall, it became obvious
that every boy would die before his 14th birthday. We were able to
develop a vaccine for the girls, but it is useless for the boys. What we need
is a man who survived the disease from whom can obtain anti-bodies and develop
a vaccine for the boys. We have been
accessing satellite scanners looking for any pockets of humanity that remain,
searching for a man, the last man on Earth. You are he. You are The Man.”
_________
The cabin was silent as a tomb. At last Adam spoke.
“I fled to this place when my wife was murdered.”
“Your pain is my pain.” All five women spoke in unison,
surprising Adam.
Wanjiku spoke, “It has become the standard worldwide.
Everyone alive today has seen unspeakable sorrow. It has drawn the survivors
together. How insufficient is “I’m sorry” or “My condolences”. Almost 80% of the world’s people have died,
every new loss is truly felt by all.”
Adam sighed, “I don’t know if I can face other people
again. Especially not as the freak. You can’t tell me women won’t stare, point.
Even if they welcome me, I will be alone. And not alone by myself, but alone
with others which is worse.”
Cohen cleared her throat.
Adam saw with surprise that there were tears in her eyes. She held out a
small locket to him, open to show the picture of a freckled boy about 11. “His
name was Michael. His father and I were both Air Guard. When I got called up
for combat duty, we put a half-dozen embryos on ice; Michael was already 3
then, but we wanted more, so just in case….
My husband was one of the last in NY to die. Michael died a year ago,
just after his 12th birthday.
Four of those embryos are male. You’re my only hope for a son from my
lost love.”
Without a word, every woman pulled a photo, a toy, or some
other memento from her pocket.
“That’s why we came,” said Garcia, “We are the as mães de
lágrimas, the mothers of tears.”
Adam hung his head, “How can I deny you? My wife was 4
months pregnant when she died. I mourned the loss of our child almost as much
as my Sally.”
He raised his eyes to Olga’s, “We all know you could force
me to come. You probably have
tranquilizers and straightjackets in those packs. But it’ll work better if come
willingly, right? I have one demand for my cooperation. Once a year, in July,
you have to bring me back here.”
“Agreed.”
“Well then, it’s time to add those corn dumplings Jaihue
was beating into the soup.” He held at his hand for the bowl.
__________
After breakfast was finished and the dishes washed, the
troops helped The Man make an insulated pack.
Even if she was on her last legs, he wasn’t leaving without the
cat. He had been right about the snow,
but it was only a half-inch or so and the wind was already starting to die
down. But it was too in the late in the
day start out, they would have a quick breakfast of jerky the next day and
leave at first light. As they prepared dinner, using up many of the more
perishable provisions from the cellar, the troops told The Man about the new
world he was returning to - the cities where suburbs had been replaced by farms
and a commute was a trip out your fields. Because of the scarcity of labor for
hauling fuel, cities with low-labor sources like hydro-electric and wind
turbines dominated. Trains ran on bio-diesel produced from the animal waste and
vegetable oil. The few airplanes and helicopters still in working order were
reserved for emergencies or vital missions like this one. An old surplus whirlybird had brought them
most of the distance from Anchorage and was waiting at Coal Creek Airport where
it was refueling from the abandoned pumps.
It took all six of them to load the 16-pound cat into her
carrier, but they still set off just as the sun was rising. Adam looked back once at his home and then
strode away through the fresh snow. They reached Coal Creek by 4:00 as Adam
knew it or 1600 as the women did. The
two pilots came out to meet them.
“So this is The Man,” said a short, blond Aussie.
“He has name,” correct Olga, “It’s Adam.”
As the helicopter crew prepared for departure, Adam turned
from the sun setting on the hills to Olga.
“Will I really be back?”
“I promise you will,” said Olga, “You are our family now,
we will protect you and we will be at your side always.”
Adam saw the solemn nods of four
more heads and knew that, at last, he would never be alone again.
