for, well, forever, because it’s got hot springs, waterfalls, great volcanic soil for farming. It’s perfect-except for one thing.”
“Yeah?”
Nadir shuffled the papers, selected one. “Here’s a detail map. The settlement is on this land, here. You can see the river, here-well, technically it’s a stream but these cliffs are hundreds of feet high. The falls, here, carved out this gorge, and you can see where the river breaks off here, so that’s impassable most of the year. Bottom line, it’s very hard to get to. But there’s some good news, too.”
“What’s that?”
“This bridge.” Nadir showed them an aerial shot, fuzzy in black-and-white. “Wait, I can do better. I’m trying to conserve battery, but…”
He took a cell phone out of his pocket and thumbed it on.
“Are you going to call up there?” Cass asked, looking at the little machine a bit incredulously. She was aware that high emotion was making her sarcastic, and she regretted it, especially because this was the first good news they’d had in a long time. “Tell them to order pizza?”
Nadir grimaced but didn’t respond. They waited for the phone to power up, and he clicked a few buttons. “Here.”
He turned the screen face toward them, and Cass looked close: a crystal clear photo of emerald-green treetops, the winding break of the river, and there-a straight gray line.
“A bridge,” Smoke said. “Four lanes. Put in by some multinational group that wanted to build a resort.”
“So, assuming the bridge is intact-”
“That’s a big assumption,” Cass said. “Don’t you think?”
Nadir shrugged. “Those photos were taken last March. Not even a year ago. Since then there’s been no air traffic, hardly anyone on the roads. Sure, it’s possible to get there on foot, but I’d say most people spent most of last year trying to go toward civilization and not away from it.”
“The Cascades are hundreds of miles long,” Smoke said. “And there’s higher elevations. Why did they pick this one?”
“Because it’s relatively easy to get to, especially coming from the southeast. They spaced the settlements out east to west, and this was supposed to be the westernmost camp. But if they’d gone up to Washington or Oregon, that’d take weeks longer. And they wanted the settlements to be forbidding enough that Beaters couldn’t survive, but not so hostile that everyone else couldn’t either. I mean, I wouldn’t want to be in Minneapolis right now, know what I mean? At least in the settlements, a day on foot gets you down mountain, above freezing almost all year round. Put in a few satellite farms and you got four growing seasons, too. Couldn’t really ask for much better.”
Cass considered Nadir’s argument, trying to find the holes in it. She had to admit that, other than the uncertain welcome they were likely to receive, it was better than anything they’d come up with. “So you really think this will work for all of us? What about the slow ones-the weak ones?”
“Everyone goes,” Smoke said adamantly. “Everyone.”
Nadir nodded. “I understand. We have the advantage of the vehicles. That should make up for any…problems we could experience. I mean, anyone who’s slower, the kids, the older folks. If you don’t mind me asking…are you concerned about loyalty? Why do you wish to involve this other man?”
Smoke addressed Nadir but his eyes were on Cass. “I am not well-known here. I’ve been sick. People might question my strength.”
“Dor’s only been here as long as I have,” Cass protested. “Two months.”
And no one liked him, she wanted to add. But things had changed so much. Of the council leadership, only Shannon and Harris remained; Dana was dead and Neal was among the missing.
Dor had been a hero today. In times of great upheaval, people were judged by their last trial, their last triumph. Without Dor they’d all be dead; she had a feeling that Smoke was right, that people would be expecting him to play a role in what came next.
“Is there anyone else?” Nadir asked. “Anyone who will challenge you?”
Smoke and Cass looked at each other. “No,” she said slowly. “Dana would have, but he’s dead.”
Nadir nodded. “And what role do you see for me?”
“What do you mean?” Smoke asked.
“Am I to…assist you in some way?”
“You’re the one with the maps, my friend,” Smoke said. “You’ve put a lot on the table. You’ll forgive me for assuming that you want something in return.”
Nadir raised his hands. “A new life,” he said. “A chance at something. To matter. To…know people.”
“What did you do Before?” Cass asked.
Nadir shrugged. “I worked at a Best Buy. Went to community college. I was engaged…but I was thinking of breaking it off. I wasn’t anything, really. Just an average guy.”
“And now?” Smoke asked. “What do you want from life?”
“I’m twenty-six years old,” Nadir said. “I’ve lost everyone I knew before a year ago. I’d like to live to see twenty-seven, and have a couple of friends when I get there.”
Smoke nodded. He looked at Cass, slipped his hand around hers. “That’s not the worst goal I ever heard.”
Chapter 39
PEOPLE ADAPTED TO the new order with surprising complacency. Or maybe it wasn’t all that surprising-and on second thought it wasn’t complacency, but more like stunned acceptance. No one was unaffected by the terrible losses suffered at the mall. People were silent much of the day, prone to crying jags, more likely than ever to wander off in search of solitude when they did stop for rest.
Cindy, who had treated Rosita like a second mother, had taken to wearing the scarf she took from the dead woman’s body outside the mall after she died from her head injury. It was still stained with blood, but Cindy didn’t seem to care.
Sharon, whose partner, Elsa, had been among those crushed to death when people swarmed the door of the mall, stopped speaking to anyone. When people approached, she turned away; she seemed to blame them all. She walked several paces behind the crowd and slept outside at night and Cass worried that one morning they would find her gone, having slipped away in the night to be alone with her grief.
No one seemed to miss Craig Switzer much. Or Mayhew, for that matter, after a somewhat condensed version of his plan had been communicated at a meeting Smoke led with Nadir and Bart, Dor doing his customary silent- and-glowering thing a few paces away. A vote was taken, and, not surprisingly, it was a unanimous decision to continue northward toward Salt Point.
People were given a quick glimpse at the images on Nadir’s phone before he shut it down to conserve the battery. Jay said it reminded him of skiing in Whistler, up in Canada. Kyra, who had begun talking about the baby from time to time, said she thought it would be nice to have a log-cabin school for the kids.
The days took on a rhythm, early mornings around fires made from whatever lumber they could scavenge, the last of the canned and preserved food doled out parsimoniously along with whatever form of kaysev was on offer that day. A new kitchen crew had formed from a few volunteers, including-surprisingly-Kalyan, who was a sort of apprentice to Fat Mike. Fat Mike wasn’t the least bit fat anymore, but the name stuck, and he and Kalyan spent the evenings experimenting with kaysev and whatever other ingredients could be scrounged. Several times there was rabbit and even squirrel that Nadir or Dor or Bart shot. Cass found wild shallots and ginger, serviceberries, squawroot and nutsedge tubers. In her pack was the seed collection she had brought with her from New Eden, and she daydreamed about the garden she would grow if they reached Salt Point safely.
One reason Kalyan was spending more time with Fat Mike, Cass figured, was that Colton was spending most of his time with Sammi. Only Shane, among the young men, seemed to have failed to find a new diversion. Sometimes Cass saw him with his slingshot, shooting stones at billboards, wrecked cars, rabbits-though he never managed to hit those-always with the same vacant expression. If he missed his friends’ company he didn’t let on.
