They walked along the side of the valley wall. As they drew closer to their destination, Bishop could smell meat roasting. When they rounded a rocky outcropping, Bishop saw two large wooden pavilions. A large number of people were milling about around them. The boy must have figured they were close enough that this stranger would know where to go next, so he rushed off to join a group of young men playing not too far away.
There were several large adobe-like ovens and two fire pits between the structures. Two animals could be seen turning on a spit, and smoke was rising from the ovens. Picnic benches were lined in rows beneath the covered roofs. Bishop saw someone waving at him and noticed that it was Weston. He walked over and accepted the seat that was offered.
“Quite a place you have here,” Bishop said.
“Better than many alternatives,” Weston replied.
“What’s for lunch?” Bishop asked inclining his head toward the fires.
“Roast lion,” Weston said with a smile, “By some coincidence, the men brought two of them in just yesterday.”
“Good. Nothing I hate more than stale lion,” Bishop said returning the smile.
As the meal was served they made small talk. Bishop had never had lion before, and thought it was quite good. As they were eating Bishop said, “One of your men said Mochtp when we met. What does that mean?”
“Monster,” Weston replied. “He was referring to the Raveners. At least that is the name we’ve given them.”
“Why did he call it by that other name?”
“It’s Russian. Sasha here was an engineer on a Russian submarine. When we first came here, some of us were from an American submarine, some from a Russian sub, and the rest we picked up along the way. A few others found us over time. Everybody speaks some English, but we’ve become a mix of three languages. Sometimes, a word in another language just carries more meaning and we may revert to using it, as the man you spoke of did.”
“What exactly are the Raveners? I’ve seen them twice before. They look mostly human, but they don’t act it.”
“We think they were people who went mad, or at the least, survived physically when they probably should have died. But be assured, they are not human any longer. They will walk right by you, but if there is blood on you, you’d better be quicker than they are, because they will attack without a second thought. They can smell blood from great distances. They can run without tiring, their strength is more than that of an average man, despite their fragile appearance, and they are quick.”
“Do they ever come in here,” Bishop asked.
“They did in the past, but we’ve learned to keep the area free from what attracts them. We are careful in how we preserve and process our animals.”
“I saw one of them eat a wild dog alive, out on the plains.”
“They don’t care whether something is alive or not. I don’t believe they really think much at all. I’ve seen several of them attack a wounded lion before. The lion killed two of them before becoming dinner himself. They are more of a mindless animal than anything else.”
“Good to know.”
They retreated to Weston’s lodge after the meal. Bishop enjoyed both the meal and the company. He had not had fresh vegetables in the mountain, nor fresh meat. It was all genetically modified protein sources, created in their own labs. It was eating out of necessity, not out of desire. When the two men were alone, Weston offered him a seat.
“So, you know a little about us, and how we got here, how about you?”
Bishop looked at him and decided there was no threat in revealing himself. “Alright, we’ll take turns. You get an answer, you give an answer,” Bishop said reasonably, and Weston agreed.
“How did you survive in the mountains,” Weston asked.
“Cheyenne Mountain?underground military base. They had been preparing for something like this for a long time, and they knew about the event before it happened. My father was one of the ranking members on staff, and he ensured I was inside before it happened. I didn’t know what was going on until after the fact.”
“Makes sense,” Weston said.
“How many of you are out here,” Bishop asked.
“Now, we are about eight hundred and counting. When we first arrived, there were over twenty-four hundred of us. We lost about eighty percent of our numbers in the first few years. Our birth rate has improved and we are finally growing.”
“That must have been hard.”
“Very hard; I lost many of my men and many others I came to know.”
“I didn’t see that many people at lunch,” Bishop stated.
“We are divided into two villages; this one, and another several miles down in the valley on the north side. We used to have three villages, each protecting a way into the valley, but when the numbers became too few, we decided to reinforce the two, and keep a manned outpost at the third. It is a choke point at the opposite end of the valley.
“That was more than one question, so my turn,” Weston said with a smile.
“Why are you out here while your father is inside?”
Bishop looked at him, expecting the question at some point, but it still was a sensitive subject. “Let’s just say my father and I don’t see ’eye to eye.’”
“Okay. What is their goal? What do you think they would do if they found out about us?”
“I think they would take what you have. I think they would study some of you, but if you are asking if they would help, no.”
“But there are many of us that were in the service just like them. We’re fellow countrymen,” Weston replied a little taken back by the statement.
“No, you ‘were’ like them. Now you are what they call MuTerra, mutants of the land. They don’t get sick. They have been cured of every known disease. They are a perfectly functioning society just waiting to re-populate the surface and make it theirs. At least, whenever it is safe for them to do so. When that time comes, you won’t want to be in their way.”
“We’ve learned to adapt to and survive many things,” Weston said.
“Yeah, well, when they find this valley, and they will, those spears, and crossbows, and whatever other primitive weapons you have will do little against a well-armed, well-trained, fighting force. They have several hundred trained soldiers, some of them prior Special Forces like me, and they have the equipment.”
“We haven’t survived this long to go away quietly.”
“No, I don’t expect you did. And you now have an advantage.”
Weston looked at him in expectation of an answer.
“Me. I will not let my father succeed. And, after seeing what you have done here, I’m not about to let him ruin it.”
“But you only have a couple of knives and a wooden spear, how do you think you can stop him, yet say we cannot when we have greater numbers?”
“You have no idea what I am capable of. I’ll help you make preparations for the inevitable, but for now, just be glad I like you and I’m on your side.”
“You don’t seem to lack confidence, I’ll give you that.”
Bishop smiled at the response. “I’d like to see the rest of the valley. Would that be a problem?”
“No. I’ll send Sasha along with you. He’s become my best friend. He’ll make sure no one from the other village causes you any problems.”
There was a dual-purpose laboratory and clinic in Mezzo. The staff consisted of Dr. Ramirez, Professor Bayek, and four others. One of the others was a young man named Stephan. He was a student of Professor Bayek’s prior to their coming to the valley. His family was a casualty of the environment and passed on years before, which prompted Stephan to attach himself to Mr. Bayek. He lost his ability to speak as a side effect of the radiation exposure; he suffered with open sores and he was thought to have outlived his life expectancy. He was a delightful young man whom people took an instant liking to. He would not leave Bayek’s side for any reason. Mr. Bayek was of
