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They saw us coming. Slowly approaching. Midday, hot, most hunkered down, the heat today unbearable, triple digit. But still a waiting entourage, someone from the roof yells, “he’s bringing people.” Interest peaked, there was a procedure for adding to our population strict rules. Pulling into the yard, the Scout Team surrounded the wagon, holding back the audience. Approaching one of the Community Leader’s appears distraught, immediately demanding an explanation. Compassion has become a defunct human attribute, everything seen as a cost to the powers in charge.
“We met a group with members needing medical assistance willing to make an exchange for medical supplies. We heal, then our collaborators will provide additional supplies.”
“What about her and how will you feed these folks and who put you in charge? Take them back.”
From behind, the whiner appeared a pair of enforcers.
“Initially, she will gain skills to help her companions and, for the time being, our medical staff, next regarding food. That’s between me and Ms. Bishop. Finally, as for your hired help, they need to back up.”
Chump, stepping back, needing to save face, eying the crowd deep in thought, waved his arms, demanded everyone back to their daily duties. As the crowd dispersed, stepped forward seeking to sound formidable, fingering his weapon, scowled, promulgated, “They got three days, then gone.” Turning, stepping away, followed by his personal escort, reminding me I was the reason for us lacking an actual doctor.
The crowd disbanded, and with some help moved the injured to our ‘hospital’ while we made sure they’re warmly received and expectation understood. Ragtag medical staff, welcoming group, and having intimidating “thugs” pressing around the entrance helpful plus a container full of supplies with the promise of more equally compelling.
Settled in offering Diana, “lunch? I know the cooks, which means zip, but who knows, and we have our special, reserved table?”
Offer tentatively accepted, “Addison, would you give her a quick guided tour?” And before she could answer. Frank, pushing forward, interjecting, “allow me.”
Diana smiled. I’m sure Addison and I shared a common thought: trouble.
“Excuse me, I got an errand to run and will meet all back at our special table.”
I quickly, checked with Ms. Bishop to arrange a meal, a deal, with a promise to bring back food next time out, and not more mouths to feed, then returned to stables where I asked my mount be prepared to leave later that evening, at dusk. Received a quizzical look from all while avoiding eye contact or offering an explanation. I had a plan. While spending time with Addison and Luke’s threat, memories of my daughters again intruded, forced me to think, and now wonder, hoping they were well, curious if they ever think of me, or care. They could be anywhere, across the road, or miles away.
As a self-contained community, dozens of factions surrounding us, informal gangs, small as a single-unit home to multiple buildings banded together, as we had.
To the east, less than a mile away, a community larger than ours existed. Inhabitants often heard late at night, with music playing, arguments brewing, and the occasional gunfire.
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