Lessons Learned Read online

  Lessons Learned

  A Changed World, Volume 4

  Alice Sabo

  Published by Alice Sabo, 2018.

  Lessons Learned

  Published by Alice Sabo

  Copyright 2018 Alice Sabo

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  Cover Design Alex Storer

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

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  Further Reading: White Lies

  Also By Alice Sabo

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  A SIREN SCREAMED OUT into the night. Ted ran to the window with Nixie right behind him. The latest batch of rescued children clustered around them. He pushed the curtains aside, so they could all get a look.

  “What is it?” one of the littlest children asked.

  Red lights strobed in the darkness. The heavy rumble of a big engine approached. “It’s a fire truck.” The siren changed octave as it raced past them down the road.

  “What’s that?”

  A tumble of emotions hit Ted. The youngest ones had been born after Zero Year when public services had disappeared. In the chaos after the flu had whittled down the human race, emergency services had sputtered and failed. These children couldn’t understand the undertaking Angus had initiated. It had required a major effort to get this one small vestige of normalcy back into action. The vehicle had needed work. People had to be found who knew how to operate the equipment. And the road had to be cleared and repaired, so they could drive quickly to where they might be needed. So much had gone into preparation for this singular event.

  Nixie slipped her hand into his. “Can’t remember something you never saw,” she said gently. As usual, she saw the crux of the matter. The children didn’t care about what it took to get to this moment. They wanted to know about now.

  He tried his best to narrow it down to something that they could understand. Half of them were feral, having few memories of a home or safety. Their lives had balanced on warmth, food and clean water. Anything else was superfluous. “If there’s a fire that might hurt somebody, the firemen get in the fire truck and go put it out.”

  “They didn’t need to run the siren,” Nixie grumbled. “Who would be in their way?”

  “It’s a warning.” Ted said. “Now we all know there’s a fire somewhere. Anybody who wants to help can go after them.” The loud wail had frightened him bringing with it the memories of crisis and peril. He’d gotten so used to the silence of the new world without any traffic or construction or manufacturing. This was an old sound of warning in a world with different dangers. He forcibly shook off the worry. The old fears had no place in Angus’s bright new domain.

  “Do we need to go?” Nixie asked.

  Ted looked at all the eager faces watching him. His young charges were clearly marked by the changes in the world with eyes the color of flowers, gold, burgundy and lavender. They were a reminder of how different the future would be. “I think we should,” he said. Even if they weren’t needed to lend a hand, it was important for these children to be there. This was a historic event in some ways. It was probably the first response by a working fire truck since Zero Year. “They might need our help.”

  Nixie made sure that everyone had shoes and a jacket because the nights were getting cold. Ted put out his hands, and tiny fingers quickly latched on to his thick, calloused ones. They had a house of their own now, he and Nixie. When they finished their journeys, seeking out lost children, they had a quiet place to come back to. The children could learn about the possibilities here without being thrust into the middle of school and housing and cafeteria lines. He thought the latest group was making the transition more easily. A few kids came back to see him regularly. All were welcomed.

  He crunched down the road through drifts of fallen leaves surrounded by his herd of children, flanked by Nixie. The flashing red lights were a beacon in the darkness. White beams of flashlights crossed here and there as more people joined them on the road, murmuring their concerns. The night was cool with the bite of fall, and the scent of the leaves crushed underfoot. It felt like a fun outing.

  A few of the older children that were out on their own joined the parade. Ted saw Greenie slip out of the woods to watch them pass. She was among the few that were more feral. When he’d been out on his last journey, she’d circled and trailed him for days before finally approaching him. He worried about her but knew that she was safe here in Angus’s domain.

  A horn sounded, warning them of a vehicle approaching. The crowd split to either side of the road to give room. A bus rumbled past with the interior lights on, showing the Ready Team on board. Ted’s throat tightened with emotion. He found it odd to be so proud of people that he didn’t even know, men and women who were willing to put themselves in danger to save others. There were a few faces in the bus that he recognized, but there were a lot more that he didn’t.

  “It’s a circus,” Nixie whispered to him.

  A pair of dogs ran past barking wildly. Ted had to agree that there was a festival feel in the air. Perhaps that was the way it should be for the first outing of the fire engine. It was a party, a celebration of how much they had achieved. Until he saw the fire. A house was ablaze, fully engulfed. The firefighters already had the hoses out and were pouring water on it, but that didn’t stop the shivers that ran through him. The house next door to it had flickers of flame where sparks had ignited the roof. If they couldn’t stop this fire, it would keep spreading until it took out the whole block.

  “Should I go get our stuff?” Nixie asked. She was the practical one. She saw the danger and knew what to do right away.

  “I think we have time,” Ted said. “Peter said that there would be a fire. Sometimes I think he’s clairvoyant.”

  “If you can figure out what the heck he’s saying,” Nixie grumbled.

  “He is a bit obtuse,” Ted admitted. His brother Epsilon, now Peter, had changed drastically since Zero Year. As his bones deteriorated, his mind got wild. Once brilliant at forecasting market patterns and economic trends, he now spouted odd prophecies and cryptic warnings. Ted felt as if he could almost understand him. If he listened and concentrated, there was a poetry of purpose to his verbal ram
blings. Their other brothers, James the surgeon and Kyle the biochemist, did what they could for him. No one could say what had changed his body, the virus or the vaccine, or it might have been a fault in the genetic engineering that created him.

  A few more volunteers arrived, bringing Ted’s thoughts back to his surroundings. Another hose was hooked up and hauled over to wet down the neighboring homes. Most of the houses were empty. A few were being fixed up for future use. Supplies and tools were scattered around the yards tripping up the fire fighters.

  “There’s something we can do,” Ted said. He gathered his charges closer. “See all the things that are in the way? The sawhorses and those rakes? We should move them.”

  Nixie gave him a glare. “Then we’ll be in the way.”

  “Not if we time it right. Now, we have to be very careful. I want each of you to go when I tell you, pick up just the thing I tell you and come right back here. Okay?” He waited until he got nods from each of them. Then he sent them off, timing the foray with the movements of the firefighters. “Rum and Naze that sawhorse now.” He kept the littlest ones to line things up on the side of the road out of the way of people and vehicles. Little by little, they cleared the area of hazards.

  When the flames died down to mostly smoke, someone brought out work lights to illuminate the area. A couple of people were being seen at a first aid station by the side of the bus. Ted saw his brother James there but didn’t distract him. Although he was a neurosurgeon, James had been happy to take on all sorts of doctoring. He’d been forced to work for General Washburn until his wife, Helen, had escaped with the children from the orphanage. James didn’t like to talk about his time with the General. Ted didn’t ask. There were hard things there that he didn’t want to know.

  Something inside the house gave way. The roofline crumpled shooting hot debris into the crowd. A few people howled from the shower of burning cinders.

  “Ted?” Martin came out of the smoke, a look of concern on his face. “What are the kids doing?”

  “We’re staying out of the way,” Ted said with a gesture to their stockpile. “Just getting some things off the lawn.”

  Martin surveyed the piles with a nod at the kids. “Good work here. But it’s getting pretty smoky now, so maybe you should head back home.”

  Ted wanted to remind Martin that his kids had been on their own, struggling every day to find food and a safe place to sleep until they found Ted. They were tough and smart and incredible capable. But it was getting late. The kids were starting to droop, and the spectacle was winding down. He didn’t have a lot of resistance when he suggested that they head back.

  “What will they do now?” Rum asked as he skipped alongside Ted.

  “They will keep putting water on it until all the fire is out,” Ted explained. He was always amazed by the amount of energy these kids had.

  “So the fire won’t come after us,” asked a small voice.

  “No. I will keep you safe,” Ted said firmly.

  Chapter 2

  ANITA LAY IN BED, NOT wanting to face the day. She should be glad to be alive, but sometimes she felt she had little left to live for. In the years since the virus changed the world, life had gotten smaller and harder every year. She had lost the people she loved while she was far away from them. Since then, every place she’d fled to had collapsed in disaster. Society itself had devolved into predators and prey leaving people to hide in the shadows or be destroyed. There were no choices left in the world. To stay alive, she abided in this tiny community of people that annoyed her, living on the same food every day.

  The sun inched across the window until it was shining into her eyes. She tossed back the covers to sit on the edge of the bed. “Thirteen people,” she mumbled. It was superstitious to think it was unlucky. The last round of flu took two people and had left them with thirteen. She felt cursed. Maybe she was number thirteen. Maybe next flu season she would be the one to go. Sometimes that didn’t seem like a bad thing.

  She washed up and dressed automatically. There was little to do in their hidey-hole, a couple of classrooms around a trout-farming pond set up by the local agricultural extension before Zero Year. They lived in the classrooms on beds that they’d stolen from nearby houses. The kitchen was a test kitchen for the value-added research unit. As she wandered down the corridor, she wondered who was supposed to cook this week. It wasn’t her turn. She knew that much. The smell of baked fish permeated the building. At least someone had done the job that they were assigned.

  Something must have alerted the other denizens because they were all gathering as Anita entered the kitchen. Two dining tables had been dragged in, mismatched chairs stood around them. She wouldn’t think about the family that might have sat around either table. The flu had decimated the whole country. She doubted there was a whole family anywhere.

  “Trout, what a surprise,” Lindsay snapped.

  Anita didn’t have the energy to argue with her. She barely had the energy to eat.

  “Can’t you do something?” Lindsay demanded.

  “Like what?”

  “Go find something else. I hate fish. I hate eating fish for every frigging meal!”

  Anita could see a screaming match coming on. Lindsay started one every couple of weeks. She did the absolute minimum required of her and complained constantly. “You could leave,” Anita said.

  “If there was some place to go, I’d leave in a minute,” Lindsay snapped back.

  Anita wished she would go, but knew that would never happen as long as there was food and shelter available to her. That was true for every one of them, tossed up here like shipwrecked sailors. They would stay together, fighting and grumbling because there was nowhere else to go. How she had ended up as leader of this group was a mystery. She’d wandered in, on the edge of exhaustion, after the last settlement where she’d been living had blown up in a battle of rivals. When the weapons came out, she ran. This little refuge was out of the way, tucked into the woods. Over the years, a few people blundered in, a few had left. For the most part, they were safe and had food, so they stayed. No one had the ambition or the energy to try to take over, so they plodded along the same track every day. Having the same arguments over and over again.

  “You’re supposed to be our leader, but you haven’t done anything.”

  Joshua put the pan of hot fish on the table. He glanced at Anita, sympathy in his dark eyes. He was a good man. Originally he’d been head of the cruciferous greens research. Thanks to him, they had collards to go with their fish. Every meal. It was a shame that he hadn’t been working on something else when the world ended.

  Abigail marched in to inspect the fish. “This one is a little undersized. I’m concerned about the new feed I’ve made.”

  “It’s fine,” Anita said. Abigail fussed over her fish. She ran the hatchery and trout ponds that kept them all fed. It was a small miracle that Abigail was so knowledgeable and chose to stay. She had been working on a PhD in aquaculture in Zero Year.

  Abigail frowned and grumbled. Anita wished that someone would work on finding more food. They were set for trout and collards for the foreseeable future. Anything else would be a god-send. But everyone did whatever they wanted to do. Anita occasionally gave them a poke in the right direction in order to keep them all fed and safe. Otherwise they would have coasted into oblivion.

  The rest of the residents wandered in to eat. They sat at the tables in silence. There was no camaraderie here. Each one of them had a story, but no one ever asked to share them. She hated living here, but then wondered if she simply hated living.

  Chapter 3

  TILLIE INHALED THE aromatic steam rising from her teacup. Delightful. The last shipment from Fragrant Meadow Farms had included some green and black teas in with the selection of herbs. They had been extremely thankful for the engineers Angus had sent over to help repair their roaster, which meant that Tillie reaped the benefit of a good cup of real tea.

  Angus mumbled under his breath.
He sat across from her at their kitchen table in their own home. Something Tillie was still getting used to. The school had cleared out as Angus had declared various houses safe for occupation. Most of the families were glad to get a space of their own. The residential spaces were turned back into what they’d been before, classrooms and offices. Then that big building had gotten much too empty for Tillie to stay there at night. Just Angus and her in the last classroom being used for living quarters had become awkward.

  The privacy of their own home was a newfound delight; however, they still took most meals at the school because neither of them was a very good cook. Coming home at the end of the day to a quiet house where she could spend time with her husband was wonderful. She knew that Angus was enjoying the ability to put things aside at night. In the school, it was all too easy to wander down to the office and get back into the problems and planning.

  “Eat your toast,” Tillie scolded. “Don’t you dare waste that butter.” She had bought their food with the new currency, so she shouldn’t feel guilty about having it all to herself. It was ingrained in her now to share. Having food in the pantry that was for her alone felt wrong somehow.

  Angus obediently reached for the food with his eyes on his papers, patting the table in search of his breakfast.

  Tillie scooped up the last smear of apple butter on her plate with the end of her toast. The apple harvest was still coming in. Eunice had made apple sauce, apple butter and some amazing tarts so far. A gift from one of their trading partners had made the tarts very special. Seaview had acquired a small amount of allspice from wherever they got their coffee. Nick had brought them some puppies to be trained as guard dogs, and they had paid him with a small packet of allspice. Since the dogs weren’t really produced by High Meadow, Tillie felt that they had gotten the better deal. It made the apple butter almost exotic. Most tropical spices like black pepper, cinnamon and nutmeg hadn’t been available since the collapse of the world economy after Zero Year.