“It’s me, Dad. Heather.”
Sly rushed toward her and gave her an enormous hug, almost crushing her as he swung her clean off her feet. The boy had been frightened when she’d disappeared earlier in the day, unable to understand where she’d gone or what she was doing. His disturbance added to Jim Hilton’s own doubts.
“All right, Sly, I’m back safe. You can put me down on the ground now.”
It was the first time that any of them had actually been inside a reasonably large township since Earthblood, and the girl’s report was profoundly depressing.
“Just a shambles, Dad,” she said.
The effects of the virulent plant cancer had been almost as catastrophic for the oceans as on the land, killing off the various algae and seaweeds that provided the basic nutrients for the food chains to function.
For a community like Eureka, based on the water, mere survival was almost too much.
“All look like they’re starving, raggedy, thin. Saw a man dying in the street and folks walking over him like he wasn’t there. Been a real big fire some time back. Whole section’s blackened and gone. Everybody carries a gun of some sort.”
“How about the boats, Heather?”
“Oh, yeah, the boats.”
IT WAS just as Heather had described it.
There had been another fall of snow after noon, leaving a clean layer across the drab, dead land.
Sly had been stamping around and around, treading a circle in the mud, humming to himself. Jim had explained to him that they were going to go and find a boat and then sail away or row away, knowing that the chances of finding a powered vessel were negligible. And that they must all keep very quiet. Like a hiding game.
Sly had nodded, showing he understood.
Now, as he tramped around the grove, Jim could hear the little song that the boy was chanting.
“Boat on sea won’t see me. Boat on sea won’t see me. Boat on sea won’t see me.”
“We going to wait for dark, Jim?” asked Carrie.
“I reckon the guards might be more careful then. That’s the time you’d expect some sort of trouble. I figured to make our move late afternoon. Then, if we can get a little way out off the land, it’ll soon be dark and they won’t have too much chance to get themselves organized and come after us.”
“Will there be killing, Dad?”
“I hope not.”
Heather smiled at her father. “I can tell. You think there will be, don’t you?”
“Maybe. I truly hope not. Killing’s just a craft like any other, honey. You have to learn it. Learn how to kill some father’s son, some mother’s daughter. If we’re lucky we can sneak in and take a boat without anyone spotting us.”
When the time came for them to set off, the skies had cleared, and the temperature had dropped way below freezing. Far off to the west, the sun was already dipping its brazen head beneath the horizon of the Pacific. The air was filled with the scent of cooking fires. The long shadows stretched eastward. A frost dusted the narrow path that Jim had selected for their cautious advance toward the cluster of small boats on the seaward flank of Eureka.
Most of them were less than twelve feet long and seemed frail to take out onto the sea. A few of them were much bigger, with tall masts and furled sails. Jim was tempted by them, but he knew little about working boats and guessed that the larger vessels would take longer to get under way and might present terminal problems for two adults and the two teenagers to manage. Once they were irrevocably committed to stealing one of the boats, failure would undoubtedly mean death.
Also he suspected that the smaller ones might be less well guarded.
They walked in single file, their breath hazing the darkening air about them. Jim led, with Sly on his heels, closely followed by Heather. Carrie brought up the rear.
It had been agreed by Jim and the young woman that this was a make-or-break situation.
“No hesitating or turning back,” he said.
“Kill or be killed,” she agreed.