The Passage

Fishing lines are hung from the rafts, trailing off into the river as they

draw downstream. The fishing lines reflects light, and so many of them are

strung out that it looks almost like a spider web with the rafts caught in the

center. A boy comes up to one line and starts drawing it in, pulling up a good

sized fish as he does so, and turns to take it to a wooden box nearby where he

knocks it on the head with a wooden mallet, killing it instantly.

Toddlers can be seen on the decks of some rafts, their watchful mothers

keeping them no more than an arm’s length away. Some are tied in a harness so

they can’t fall into the river. A woman is on her hands and knees at the edge

of one raft, washing her hair. Her hair is full of soap suds as she vigorously

scrubs, then dips a cup into the river to rinse.

Someone on the raft city notices the group on the bluff and points, calling a

notice out to the others, and waves at the group on the bluff. Some calls are

exchanged between the two groups, but the distance precludes anything more

than a vigorous wave and hello. Ian says,

They raided the recycling facility up at Middleton.

Red says,

Well . . they’re safer there than in these woods. . .

And no lack of fresh fish to eat!

Ian is standing beside Colonel Cage, looking directly at him with slight worry

on his face, an unspoken query. Colonel Cage glances quickly at Ian, reading

his mind, then returns his gaze to the raft complex, which is fascinating,

transfixing everyone in the troop.

They won’t be bothered, nor will those we left behind

at Bridgewater. It’s us they’re after, those from the

ranch. We know the location of his headquarters, and

he’s not ready for visitors yet. He means to kill us,

us from the ranch . . and anyone else that gets in the

way.

Colonel Cage motions with a wave of his hand toward the raft city while

looking directly at Ian again.

But this is no threat to him. And no advantage. Just

trash in the river, that’s how he thinks.

_______________________________

Fog is blowing in the very early morning along the river. Ian has just

wakened his traveling group, not letting them have more than a few hours rest

during the night. Ian is seen moving among the members, who are sitting up on

the ground and stretching. He is touching them on the shoulder, rather than

using his voice to announce that the march is to start again. Now that they

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can see where to put one foot in front of the other, he intends to have them

on their feet and moving again.

The group looks bleary eyed, as though they've just wakened and could use a

cup or more likely a full pot of coffee. No one is complaining, however, and

when one stumbles and drops something, the one behind helps them pick it up

and get adjusted with their belongings again. This group assists each other,

in a non-competitive way, and there is never a need to ask for this

assistance.

_______________________________

Ian, in the lead, stops the group behind him by raising his hand. There,

hidden by fog most of the time but visible when the wisps clear momentarily,

is a huge dull gray dome, several stories high. The dome doesn't reach above

the trees, but covers an area as large as a football field. Placed on a ridge

along the river, where there are trees on all sides and no ground above the

ridge, the dome could not be seen unless a plane flew over.

Several of Ian's group crowd around him, coming up behind him and staring at

the dome over his shoulders. They are all silent, staring, taking this in and

trying to place it in their concepts of what goes on.

Ian finally moves forward, the group straggling behind him. There is a large

space in the line between Ian and those following him, his assistants, and an

even larger space before the rest of the group follows. They are clearly

hanging back, not so far that it would be taken to be a lack of faith in Ian,

but far enough back that escape is possible. As Ian nears the entrance, the

entry doors splits open and slide to the side.

Several humans walk out, Jonah in the lead, extending his hand. Ian hesitates

only a moment, then himself walks forward with an extended hand. The group

following Ian noticeably pick up their pace, seeing a friendly welcome.

Just inside the dome city entrance, the newcomers are gawking at the raised

but diffusely lit ceiling and lush vegetation growing in the center of the

dome, where there is a fountain and grassy areas with children at play. The

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dome has housing units in a circle around the edge, several stories high, as

the dome drops down into the ground as well as rising up above the ground.

Tammy breaks the silence as she has been discovered by another little girl her

age. Tammy is clutching her rag doll, which by now is so dirty and tattered

that it almost looks like a black rag. The little girl welcoming her has a

clean cloth doll, similar in size and dress, and hands this to Tammy with a

smile. Tammy blinks, a hint of tears forming in her eyes at the kindness and