Untouched by nature’s fury, there was no damage that he could see.
Each mile they drove, the roads grew worse. The blacktop cracked with weeds that grew as tall as garden hedges in some areas. Everything on the sides of the road was growing quick and out of control. Too fast for the number of years that had passed.
Branches of trees reached across the road as if trying to touch something on the other side. Grass and ragweed grew wild.
It became thicker and thicker each moment they were on that road.
The farm, in his mind, would be a fluke, something nature had protected for some strange reason.
Until they emerged.
Suddenly they went from apocalypse world into what seemed like normality.
The brush, weeds, overgrown trees, even the wildlife growing from the concrete…stopped.
And like a light at the end of a tunnel, they saw what looked like a farm in the distance. Green rolling hills, a patch of bright in a world so dismal. On the right side of the road, there wasn’t any overgrowth or brown dead grass, just a huge field of growing corn stalks.
Finch slowed down the buggy then stopped.
Nate looked at him. “What’s wrong?”
Finch looked behind him. “I wonder if all that overgrowth was on purpose.”
“Like they’re hiding?” Nate asked.
“Exactly.”
“From what?”
“Maybe,” Tucker suggested. “And this is just coming from a man that grew up on a farm, maybe they already have their hands full with the farm, and they stop taking care of the land wherever the farmland stops.”
“That’s an even better possibility.” Finch began to drive again.
A mile down the highway there was a dirt road that seemed to head in the direction of the farm property. A worn wooden gate crossed the road. It wasn’t open and wasn’t a means of protection at all.
Tucker jumped from the buggy and opened it so they could pass through. The dirt road wound up a slight hill and it turned into a gravel road at the top.
When they reached the top and stopped, Nate saw the house. And set back a couple hundred yards on the property stood a barn.
Nate wanted to stand up, take it all in. He grabbed onto the bar above his head and that was when he saw him.
A man on a horse.
He moved at a slow pace, until it looked like he saw them, and then began moving with the speed of a thoroughbred on a racetrack. He bulleted his way to the buggy.
The horse had barely stopped when an older man dismounted with the agility of a young person.
He looked about seventy, but it was hard to tell. He wore a button-down shirt, jeans, and hat. His excitement turned to stunned and he froze not far from his horse.
“Well,” Tucker said, as he got out of the buggy. “This certainly feels like home to me.”
He waited for the others and they walked to the man.
“Sir,” Finch said, hands raised. “We mean you no harm.”
“Oh, I know that,” he said, walking to them. “Pardon my being stunned. Genesis or Omni-4?”
“Omni-4,” Finch replied with almost confusion to his tone.
“Omni-4.” The man extended his hand. “Welcome back.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Tucker felt like he was home. Not home like in his Earth time, but back to a time when life was simpler. When he lived on his grandfather’s farm and would sit in the large country-style kitchen at table big enough for ten. A homemade table with bench seating.
Conrad was the farmer’s name, and he poured what looked like lemonade from a pitcher into each of their glasses.
“I’m afraid I can’t offer you anything you haven’t had in a long time.” Conrad said. “It’s a simple life here.”
“Do you live here alone, sir?” Finch asked.
“In the house?” Conrad shook his head. “My son and his two children live here. On the property, heaven’s no. We have a hundred and twelve people living on the land. Each has their little patch they take care of and everyone helps with the big stuff. Heck, that’s how we eat.”
“I need to know,” Rey said, “do you know how long it’s been since we left?”
“Let me think,” Conrad said. “I wasn’t born when the Omni left. I came three years later, so…seventy-five years.”
Finch looked at Rey. “You guessed it. And Conrad, how long have you lived here?”
“All my life.”
“And the others?” Finch asked.
“Twenty…” Conrad paused to think. “Twenty-two years, maybe twenty-three, they all retreated here slowly.”
Tucker asked, “Retreated?”
“They had to; it was the only way. People fought hard…”
“In Fort Collins?” Nate questioned.
“My guess everywhere. It was worse here when the Risers attacked.”
“Oh my God,” Rey gasped. “Zombies?”
“Huh?” Conrad asked. “What are you talking about? There’s no such thing as zombies. No, the Risers.” He looked at their confused faces. “Follow me.”
Conrad led them back down the dirt road to the main highway where they went north another three miles.
The area wasn’t as overgrown, some brush, but not much.
They parked the buggy and tied the horse to it and Tucker brought them further off the road to where there was a trench.
“This was the final revolt,” Conrad explained. “I’m sure there are a few stragglers left, but not in the area. Then again, this is the first time I’ve been off the farm in years.”
In the trench were hundreds, if not a thousand of mechanical parts that were at time robots. Arms, heads, limbs, and torsos scattered about. The trench had grown over quite a bit but they still could be seen. They weren’t like Buster, they were all metal. Some silver, some red.
“I told you guys,” Tucker said. “See, Sam, this wasn’t some sci-fi theory, this is real.” He walked closer to get a better look. When he did, there was an electronic grinding sound. Then some of the parts began to move.
Tucker stepped back. “I thought they were dismantled.”
“They are,” Conrad said. “They can’t put themselves back together, but the only way to really shut them down is to remove their power source, but quite
