Forager (9781771275606) (11 page)

We rode right up to the men, who had just finished changing
the batteries.

“
Hold up a second, guys. I want Dillon here to see that
alternator. He’s going out tomorrow to try and find a new one. He’s
got to know what it looks like, and how to remove it.”

“
Why ain’t you goin’? You’re the Forager, ain’t ya?” Charlie
Meyer said. He took off his red baseball hat, wiped his brow, and
after putting the hat back on, stood there with his thumbs in the
straps of his overalls.

“
Took a bullet in the leg during the attack yesterday. It’s all
I can do to sit a saddle and coach Dillon here,” Sawyer
said.

“
That so? Well, come on, Dillon. We gotta keep this old lady
movin’, so let’s make this quick.”

I liked Charlie. When he wasn’t driving the combine, he spent
his time tinkering with old engines and pumps, and all sorts of
mechanical things. He knew a lot about how things went together,
and he was always willing to share that knowledge.

He led me to the open engine compartment and pointed at an
oblong cylinder with a pulley on one end and a wiring harness on
the other. “That there’s the problem. If’n you can find us another
one, me and the lady’d sure be grateful.”

I took a good hard look at the alternator, making sure I knew
exactly how to remove it. Sawyer rode up and pointed at the three
bolts holding it in place. “It’s not too big of a job. Remove those
three bolts, unhook the wiring harness and slip the belt off the
pulley. Just as well bring the belt back with you. It wouldn’t hurt
to have a spare.”

“
Good thinking Mr. Forager. I should’a told him that m’self,”
Charlie replied.

“
Any questions?” Sawyer asked.

“
Not really. Is there anything else I need to know?”

“
Yep,” replied Charlie. “You gotta know the number and the
year. Ya see ya can’t just use any alt’nator off the first combine
ya find. It’s gotta match. This here combine was made in oh nine
and its number is one-two-seven-four. The number’s the easy part.
It’ll be printed big on the large panels behind the front wheels.
The year’s a bit more difficult. On this machine, it’s stamped on a
metal plate inside the cab.”

I climbed up the three steps right behind Charlie and he
showed me a plate with a whole mess of numbers. “You’ll want the
last two in the first line. That shows the year it was built.
Here’s the tricky part. The number on the machine and the number on
the alt’nator ain’t gonna be the same. Even the replacement might
not be numbered the same as the one on this combine, ’cause every
part man’facturer had their own numberin’ system. That’s about it.
Now you get on searchin’. Me, I gotta keep this old lady runnin’.
Mayor ain’t gonna be too happy if we waste much more
time.”

I explained about Chane missing and asked Charlie if he’d seen
her.

“
I ain’t. I bet the mayor’s in a tizzy, though. Last thing he
needs after yesterday’s attack is another fire to put out. It bein’
his daughter and all.”

We rode back into
town.
I
understood now why he’d taken me out to the combine. I never would
have known the alternator was specific to the harvester and all
sorts of bad things could happen if we used the wrong one.
Proving that I could be more than a lookout meant
paying attention to things like this, and getting them
right.

My busy morning and the task ahead weighed on me. I worried
over what else I might need to know to make this work.

Sawyer seemed to be thinking the same thing. “I wish I could
give you more. More knowledge, more training, more of everything,
but I can’t. Those things only come with experience. Be careful out
there. Scavengers could be anywhere. Just like this town is
harvesting for winter, so are the Scavengers, in the only way they
can.”

Small shudders ran through his body as I held him loosely
around the middle. Sweat beaded on his neck. His fever was getting
worse. I reminded myself to check his leg when we got back to my
RV.

“
When you’re out there tomorrow, don’t bother checking houses
that don’t have big outbuildings. If you’re going to find a
harvester with a working generator, it’ll be stored in a machine
shed or large barn.”

I’d already worked that out for myself.

“
It’s pretty wide open out there. Not a lot of cover. For the
most part, you’ll be able to see anyone coming from a long way off.
On the other hand, they’ll be able to see you just as easily. Your
best bet, if you see anyone, is to move away from them. There
aren’t many people out there. Any you do see won’t be
benevolent.”

It sounded lonely. There would be no one to talk to but Fred.
But then, I was used to loneliness. It was how I spent most of my
days anyway.

“
Don’t spend more than two days searching. If you haven’t found
the generator by the middle of the second day, start back.
Traveling at night is risky, so give yourself plenty of time to get
here before sundown. Fred’s a smart horse, but even she can’t see
in the dark.”

“
If I’m only going to be gone for two days, why’d you ask
Millie for three days’ worth of food?”

“
Things happen. You can never be too prepared. I’d much rather
see you have too much of something than not enough.”

My mind wandered as his talking tapered off. I pictured myself
opening a set of barn doors and finding a pristine combine just
waiting for me. I drummed my fingers on my thigh, anxious to be
doing something more than listening to Sawyer tell me how dangerous
it could be.

But I knew it
was
dangerous. “Do you run across Scavengers often?” I
asked.

“
Some. Mostly they stay away from Foragers. We don’t have
enough of anything to make it worth the risk of tangling with
us.”

I liked the confidence in his words. It was a statement, not a
boast.

“
Keep your mind on this task, Dillon. It could be the most
important thing you’ll ever do for this town. Don’t let thoughts of
glory interfere with your common sense. I’ve seen enough of you
already to know that you’re capable. Do this job right, and you’ll
earn the respect of many of your neighbors.”

I was seriously starting to think he was some kind of
clairvoyant.

“
You remind me a lot of myself when I was your age. Every kid
wants to prove himself. The problem is that most of them take
unnecessary risks. Don’t be like that. This mission has enough
risks as it is. Don’t go looking for more.”

We were almost back to the school where we’d left the
wheelchair and crutches. The search for Chane seemed to be waning,
and fewer people ambled around looking for her.

Right as we passed under the pole that held the speaker for
the civil service siren, its deafening blare sounded and spooked
Fred.
She startled away to the right so
quickly, it threw me sliding to the left. Thankfully Sawyer swung
his arm around
and kept me from being tossed over the side like last
week’s laundry.

There were only two reasons for that siren to be going off—bad
weather or Scavengers. I didn’t have to look up. I’d been outside
most of the afternoon. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

Sawyer looked at me and, over the noise, mouthed the word
“where.” He knew it, too. Scavengers. The alarm spooked me at least
as much as it had Fred, and I’d failed to pay attention to its
sequence. Holding up a hand, I waited for the order to repeat.
Three mournful howls later the siren paused. I immediately pointed
south.

“
Hang on!” Sawyer shouted. He put his heels
to Fred. She took off so fast it reminded me of the old bottle
rockets Dad found when I was a kid. He’d used an old piece of pipe
stuck into the ground and a plastic lighter to ignite the fuses.
The sparks sizzled as the fuse burned. Then, all at once,
whoosh
. That was Fred.

A bit more warning would have been nice. Sawyer must have
thought I’d be better prepared for Fred’s acceleration after
my…incident earlier. Not a chance. I slid halfway off the sack of
oats before I managed to get my fingers in Sawyers’ belt. It was
still touch and go for a bit.

Flinging my arms around Sawyer’s middle, I hung on. The wind
in my face stirred up the smell of dried leaves and Millie’s
cooking smoke. Tears leaked from my eyes. I’d never gone this fast.
Everything streaked by in a blur. I wasn’t sure how Sawyer could
see clearly enough to direct Fred, but she never faltered. The pure
speed of our passage stole my breath. Fred’s muscles rippled under
me. I didn’t have anything to compare it to. I only knew that it
was awesome.

We passed a lot of the townsfolk frantically running toward
the armory. Everyone was spread out searching for Chane; this
attack couldn’t have come at a worse time.

In a few short minutes, we arrived back to where we’d started
yesterday. Had it really only been a day ago? It seemed it must
have been a week at least.

We were the first to arrive. I’d have much preferred to have
several hundred of my neighbors already there. Peeking out from
behind Sawyer’s back, I looked for the Scavengers, but even from
atop the horse, I couldn’t see them. Hopefully, it was a false
alarm, though I doubted it.

Failing to see the Scavengers, I spotted the deer I’d shot.
Something, coyotes most likely, had torn into it during the night.
Its carcass was mangled and ravaged. Why hadn’t it been taken to
the slaughterhouse? My stomach twisted in remorse over shooting the
buck. If I’d been able to make use of its meat, or even its pelt,
it wouldn’t have bothered me, but seeing the buck lying there half
eaten and decomposing made me wonder if I deserved my forthcoming
punishment. I shook off the thought. I was responsible for killing
the buck, not wasting it. My punishment was to satisfy the mayor’s
sense of right and wrong. Not my own.

The amount of damage the house had received in yesterday’s
attack surprised me. Bullet holes riddled its wooden siding and the
last remaining window on the ground floor was shattered. The three
arrows embedded in the second-story window frame almost made me
glad Josh and Jason forced me from the room.

I started to dismount. Fred was blowing hard and I figured
having my weight off her would make it easier for her to catch her
breath. “No, Dillon. Stay up here with me for now.”

“
What about Fred?”

“
She’ll be fine. It’s not the first time she’s galloped under a
heavy load.”

Fred’s breathing began to slow. I put a hand down to her flank
and gave her an affectionate pat. She really was quite a
horse.

“
Where are they?” Sawyer called to the window.

Craig poked his head out and looked down at us. He held a pair
of field glasses in his hand. “About a mile and half out. Where is
everybody?”

I explained to him about Chane being missing and how everyone
was so spread out.

“
They better get here quick. If this band is as bloodthirsty as
yesterday’s we’re in a lot of trouble.”

“
How many?” Sawyer asked from the saddle.

“
It’s hard to say for sure, they’re all grouped together. I’d
guess around eighty or so. It’s kinda strange. They’re just all
standing around like they’re waiting for something.”

“
Good,” I said. “The longer they wait the better.”

“
Normally I’d agree with you, but Scavengers don’t usually mill
around when they’re this close to a town. Something’s off.” Sawyer
cupped his chin with his right hand.

I hated to disagree with Sawyer, but I was glad they were
standing around. It gave our defenders more time to
arrive.

“
Can you tell what kind of weapons and horses they have?”
Sawyer asked.

“
They’re too far out to see much, but I can definitely make out
a few rifles,” Craig replied. “Most of the horses are pulling
trailers. There are a few with riders, but most everybody’s on
foot.”

“
Uh Sawyer, can I borrow your bow again?” I asked

“
Let’s hold off on that for a bit. I’m not sure this is an
attack.”

Attack or not, I wanted to be armed. Eighty Scavengers with
rifles made me more than a little nervous.

A few townsfolk drifted in, including the mayor. I was glad to
see them and their weapons. The shotgun the mayor carried yesterday
was gone. In its place he had a military assault rifle. I didn’t
blame him. The shotgun was devastating at close range, but I didn’t
want any Scavenger getting that close to me. He saw Sawyer and me
on the horse but chose not to speak to us. Instead, he shouted up
to Craig and asked him the same questions Sawyer had.

Time crawled while we waited. I was worried about the
impending attack, but with nothing to see or do, my thoughts
wandered. Where was Chane? Was she all right? But even my anxiety
couldn’t hold back the flood of thoughts I had about tomorrow’s
Foraging expedition.

From listening to some of the older townsfolk, I knew there
weren’t a lot of houses out there. Sometimes there might only be
one house and its outbuildings in an entire mile section. Usually,
though, there were at least three or four. I hoped to get lucky and
find the right harvester early in the search.
But what if I didn’t find one at all?
I wasn’t one of the mayor’s favorite
people right now. If I came back empty-handed…I wasn’t sure what
the mayor would do.