Forager (9781771275606) (10 page)

A few minutes later, Dr. White came out of the room and
said, “The infection is getting worse. I’ll give it a couple days
to see if his system can beat it, but if it continues to worsen, I
may have to take his leg. I hate this! There’s no reason for
it!
With antibiotics, he’d be cured
by this time next
week.”

Leaving the doctor fuming,
we exited the infirmary
. I was ready to take the wheelchair back inside,
but Sawyer stopped me. “There’s no time like now. Hop on Fred and
I’ll keep these wheels. The sooner we get started with some riding
exercises the better you’ll be tomorrow.”

The big brown horse rolled an enormous coffee-colored eye
at me before she looked at Sawyer. I read the look as her
saying,
You’re not seriously going to let him ride me, are
you?

Sawyer wheeled up and took the bridle in both hands, easing
the horse’s large head downward so that they were eye to eye.
“Listen, Fred, I need him. This town needs him. And he needs you.
He took care of you well enough last night. He’ll do even better
when he’s trained.” Sawyer delivered the words in a soft reassuring
voice that hummed. It wasn’t music to me, but to Fred…well, she
gave a soft nicker that Sawyer must have taken for
acceptance.

“
Okay, Dillon, she’ll let you on.” He waved toward a vacant
lot. “Go over there.”

I was limber enough, but the stirrup seemed like it was a mile
off the ground. It took a moment to get my foot high enough to
reach it. Sawyer looked on in amusement and let me make my first
mistake.

“
Wrong foot.”

“
What?”

“
You need to put your left foot in the stirrup. That is, unless
you like riding backwards.”

It was awkward, but I managed to get the correct foot in
the stirrup without falling on my face.
Grabbing the saddle horn, and pulling myself up, I couldn’t
believe how I towered over Sawyer.
A giant to a man in a
wheelchair.

“
Okay,” Sawyer said. “The reins are on her neck, and that’s all
you need while you’re riding. What looks like an extra rein, looped
around the saddle horn there, you can use that to lead her or tie
her. Just make sure it’s something sturdy.” Sawyer wheeled
away.

“
Hey, where ya going?” I called out. He didn’t answer. Instead
he kept going farther and farther away. I wasn’t dumb. It only took
a minute for me figure out that he was leaving it up to me to
follow him.

“
Okay horse…Fred…follow Sawyer…or something. Come on…move.”
Nothing happened. Of course not. I clicked my tongue. I scooted
back and forth in the saddle. I patted Fred on the neck.
Nothing.

“
Give her a squeeze!” yelled Sawyer, who was now a good half a
block ahead of me.

With one hand on the reins and the other on the saddle
horn, I took my feet out of the stirrups and pressed both my legs
tight against her body. With a surprised snort, Fred took off in a
sprint. I scrunched down, trying to stay in the saddle,
which—apparently—was exactly the wrong thing to do.
Over the side I went. I had just enough sense to
roll instead of putting my arms out.
It still knocked the air right out of
me.

Climbing to my feet, I saw that Fred had stopped when she
reached Sawyer. He was bent over in his chair. For a moment I was
worried Fred had hit him, or that his fever was getting worse.
Sprinting forward, I drew near enough to hear his
laughter.

Tears streamed down Sawyer’s face and between his guffaws, he
said, “Well, we got that over with. Now let’s see if you can stay
on her long enough to actually go somewhere. Even from here I saw
two things you did wrong. First, you took your feet out of the
stirrups, and second, you squeezed her way too hard.”

“
And I’m supposed to know that, how?”

“
All right, don’t get all worked up. No one who’s ever ridden a
horse hasn’t fallen off. Besides, it was funny.”

I shuffled my feet on the road. “Some joke.”

Sawyer held Fred’s reins while I remounted. “Now, keep your
feet in the stirrups, relax the reins, and
gently—
gently
—give her a really light squeeze with your
heels..”

I did as instructed, and Fred moved forward. Her body rolled
with each and every slow step forward, pitching me about in the
saddle. I tried to keep my upper body still and move my hips with
her.

“
Heels out and down, toes up,” called Sawyer. “Keep your knees
and elbows in. That’s it—now keep your shoulders back. You’re doing
fine.”

How was I supposed to remember all of that? For the first bit
I mostly concentrated on not falling off, riding Fred in a wide
circle around Sawyer, and trying to listen to every instruction he
gave me.

Rolling with Fred’s gait, I began to relax. My breathing came
easier, and I realized how tightly I’d been clenching my whole
body. With the stress gone from the muscles in my back, I felt the
cool breeze blowing on my face and noticed the sunlight gleaming
off Fred’s magnificent coat.

“
Let’s head over to the kitchen,” Sawyer said. “You’ll need
supplies for your expedition.”

It was a great idea. I really wanted to tell Millie about
helping out the Forager and riding Fred. I rode Fred, and Sawyer
wheeled along beside us.
Remembering
Sawyer’s leg and fever, my puffed-up pride deflated.
“Do you want me to
get off for a while so that you can ride?”

“
No, you need all the experience you can get. I’ll be fine.
Don’t worry about me.”

At the high school, I dismounted and led Fred to another
healthy looking, if overgrown, patch of grass. The muscles in my
thighs and buttocks tightened in protest.

Millie smiled when she saw me lead the Forager through the
door. Sawyer wheeled up to the end of a table and rested the
crutches on the bench beside him. We were a long time past lunch,
but leave it to Millie to never let anyone go hungry. She brought
out a small plate of cheese sandwiches and some carrots. The three
of us sat down and Sawyer listed off supplies.

“
Dillon will need food for three days, dried fruits and meats,
some biscuits, nothing that will spoil.”

Millie’s lip puckered, like she’d eaten a lemon. “I’m not sure
I can do that. The mayor won’t approve. Except for those working
during meal times, and the infirmary, I’m not supposed to let any
food leave my kitchen unless it’s eaten out here. I want to help, I
really do, but this…it’s against the law.”

Sawyer held up a hand and a patient smile formed on his face.
“Do you know the Forager’s Requisition?”

“
I guess I don’t.”

He shook his head in
annoyance. It seemed to me that he was more peeved at the
townsfolk’s ignorance than at Millie personally. “It means that if
I require something, It is to be given. By law I can simply take
what I need, but that really makes people angry. Some Forager’s
don’t care and do it anyway. To my way of thinking, It’s better to
ask.”

“
I’m not going to get in trouble over this?”

“
If you do, I’ll personally see to it that the mayor misses a
few meals.” Sawyer rubbed his right fist with his left hand. “His
jaw will be too sore to eat.”

Millie’s smile was better than the LEDs Sawyer had added to my
RV—it lit the whole room. “You know, it might be worth getting in
trouble to see the mayor take a clot in that noggin of
his.”

“
So you’ll get Dillon the supplies I’ve asked for?”

“
Of course. Just give me a minute to gather them up.” Millie
hustled to the kitchen and returned with a small bag of food for
me, and a warm smile. “Do be careful out there, Dillon.” She gave
me a pat on the cheek. “Has anyone any word on the mayor’s
daughter?”

“
Not that we’ve heard,” I replied.

“
She’d better turn up soon, or she’ll miss supper.” That was
Millie, always making sure that everyone’s belly was
full.

I smiled back. “She’ll come when she’s hungry.” I hoped I was
right.

On our way out to the fields we stopped at the stables for a
sack of oats. Our next stop was going to be the fields. I put the
food from Millie in a saddlebag and Sawyer showed me how to secure
the sack of oats behind the saddle. Then we left the wheelchair in
a quiet corner beside the school. As Sawyer said, “It’s not going
to do us any good out there.”

After boosting Sawyer into the saddle, I climbed up behind
him, sitting on the sack of oats. He asked Fred to trot, and I held
on for all I was worth. When he asked her to go faster, her rocking
canter made it easier, much to my surprise. Gradually, I loosened
my grip on Sawyer’s middle and began to relax, hoping the next
three miles to the field with the combine harvester would go by
smoothly.

We rode down the middle of the street, avoiding the potholes
and fallen branches littering the road. The repeated call of
“Chane!” chased us as the search continued. Should I tell Sawyer
about my conversation with her? About how she thought things might
be better in the city? I decided against it. It was too early for
me to worry people needlessly. Instead, I asked, “What’s it like in
the city?”

“
Actually, I prefer it out here. The city is a lonely place.
There are too many empty buildings and rusting vehicles for my
liking.” He shook his head. “That’s not a very good answer is it?
Great wide roads crisscross the whole area. Some of the buildings
encompass whole blocks and rise into the sky like small mountains.
Miles of houses and businesses rest beside concrete roads and
sidewalks. Let me put it this way—we can get from one end of this
town to the other on Fred in no time at all. In the city, I
couldn’t cross from one end to the other in an entire
day.”

I’d seen some yellowed pictures in old books of city skylines.
They were big, I knew, but I couldn’t picture that many buildings
in so large a space. How was it possible? “What about the people?
What do they do?”

We crossed over the railroad tracks on the edge of town. The
wooden ties and steel rails remained in good shape. A red and white
striped arm pointed at the sky, a lonely sentinel that could only
watch as the monthly train swept by.

“
Many of them do much the same as you. They have little gardens
they tend, and are given jobs to complete. Some of the jobs you’d
be familiar with, like keeping watch. Other jobs, like collecting
information, might seem strange to you.”

“
Do the Scavengers attack the cities too?”

“
In truth, they attack there far more often than they do in
these little towns. There’s so much more there. There are more
defenders there, though. Most of their raids aren’t successful, but
once in a while the Scavengers will make off with a big haul.
What’s your interest in the city?”

My stomach churned at the thought of lying to him. I settled
on a partial truth. “It’s just something Chane and I were talking
about the other day.”

“
You really like that girl.”

It wasn’t a question, but it seemed to warrant a response. I
let his statement hang in the air too long. Sawyer turned in the
saddle so that I could see his profile. “You like her, but she
doesn’t seem to know you’re alive, right?”

“
Something like that.” It still amazed me that he could read me
so easily.

“
Here’s a piece of advice you won’t take. Let her be, son. In a
town this small, if she had feelings for you, you’d know it. Don’t
let her play you.”

I almost lurched off the horse. He wanted me to shut off my
feelings. Could he do that? Could anyone? But…what exactly did I
feel? I could spend hours sneaking glances at her pretty face. My
eyes were like magnets, and she was the iron. More than once she’d
caught me staring. Usually she’d smile back at me. Not the
full-blown, mouth-open, teeth-showing kind of smile, but rather a
lips-pressed-together, I’m-being-patient kind of smile. It would
have better if she had said “go away” or “stop looking at me” or
any other phrase to tell me she wasn’t interested. Instead, I got
the smile.

“
Forget I said anything, kid. It’s your life. You were doing
fine before I came along. I’m sure you’ll continue to be fine once
I’ve gone.”

Was he mocking me? I had been doing fine…mostly. Well, up
until the incident with the deer, and the bullying by Josh and
Jason, and the jolts a few weeks before…. But, Chane let me walk
her home. We’d talked. That counted for something. Didn’t
it?

About half a mile ahead, I could see four men scurrying around
the combine. “Looks like they’re changing the batteries again.
That’s good timing for us,” Sawyer said.

The field was about half done. On one side of the combine, I
could see to the next field ready to be harvested and beyond, to a
lonely ancient cottonwood tree far off in the distance. On the
other, nothing but row after row of cornstalks.

I wasn’t exactly sure why Sawyer brought me out here. I’d seen
the combine any number of times. With the nine spikes that
separated the rows sticking out of the corn head, the machine
looked like a giant mutated beetle. The old green paint fought a
losing battle against the advancing rust. Despite its ungainly
appearance, the combine was probably the single biggest
labor-saving device ever made for harvesting.