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  Back in the Land of the Waking

  Eyes opened, I grabbed the first thing in reach, only to have my hand swatted away. I fumbled repeatedly till my vision cleared, showing China's face.

  "He's awake." China, seemingly eternally in her youth, alive and well, filling my field of view while she knelt over me. "Billy, get over here." I couldn't move, something digging into my wrists. "Lay still." She smiled at me as a mother would while comforting her child. "Shh, we'll have these off in a moment." I heard something being untied and felt whatever was digging into me loosen. "When you collapsed you started seizing, then clawing at anyone who came close before going limp. They say you'll be fine, but they wanted to know what happened while you were gone."

  I told her, in-between sips of water to get the taste and burning out of my throat, about what the Gholem that were attacking us had gone through, and their belief that under our town lay a vault of wonder weapons. She shook her head and sighed, "There's no choice then," she stated matter-of-factly, "We have to evacuate. They'll kill half the slack-jawed idiots that try putting up a fight, and then the army will kill the other half because we've seen too much.

  I felt weak, but still was strong enough to stand. I didn't like it, but both the Dream-china and the real thing were women of practicality. If she said we had to run then I wasn't going to argue with her. This was my home, and I would come back in a month or two after it'd settled down, but there was no going back if I were dead.

  Looking to Billy then to China I nodded. We had preparations to make. Well, Billy and I did, China was acting in my father's place for the time being. Unusual given the general sentiment about her kind, but everyone left knew that she knew the man's reasoning better than any of the others. So when she said that he would have wanted everyone to scatter and return come autumn they listened. This would mean we would miss out on the harvest season, but the way things were looking, it was either this or die.

  There were, of course, counter-arguments. People like me who felt they had to stay regardless of what happened. China and others that were in favor of leaving then returning made a simple and effective argument. 'You can die here a week, or twenty years from now. It is your choice. We are not abandoning this place. We're simply getting out of the way of something that will trample everyone into the ground.'

  What I most hated was that I couldn't argue against that logic. So with a heavy heart I started planning on what I could pack away on the wagon. It made sense, but most of all it came from a woman I both respected, and now resented.

  Why didn't I feel anger, or even resentment, or... anything at China? I can't tell you, since it wasn't like me and my father hated each other. Far from it, it’s just that I can't bring myself to feel anything right now, and I knew she had her reasons, damned good ones. Still. He's my father, and I should feel something when I look into the face of his killer, yet there's nothing save for pity and regrets what should have's and could have's. I'm sorry for having done nothing China. You deserved better.

  Date: 27 May

  Mood: Chipper

  It was strange. I had released all of my animals to fend for themselves, packed what can be carried by wagon, and now sit at the end of the lane looking at my house, not to see it again for another three months, if not longer. Yet despite this I feel happy. I guess this is one of those few cases of the devil you don't know being better than the one staring at you.

  The deadline given to us by the refugees has been several days past. White sheets were hung from the flagpoles in town to signal that they could have the place without a fight. Neither side had time to spare much more than a passing look to the other on the few times that we saw them passing through. Hopefully now that they've gotten the point that we've decided to leave they will go try finding this mythic vault of whatever. Better to hope that they'll try hiding in the ruins instead. It's a big place with lots of small spots to hide for an ambush.

  It was Billy's turn to drive, and while I should be sleeping I couldn't just yet because, to be frank, I found myself excited and unable to drift off. We're going. No we don't know where, maybe to Bristol, or Ashton. Both were reasonably close, and I've been to both before. OK I've been to each only once, but that should count for something shouldn't it?

  It seemed we weren't the only ones that had let livestock loose. Plenty of grass between here and there, and hopefully they would have sense enough to stay where it's familiar. A few seemed to have banded together to drive their collective herds along, which made sense. It was slower going, but they would have something to sell once they got wherever they were headed.

  Just the creak of leather shocks and the steady clop clip of hooves to marked the time. Seemed I forgot to wind my watch and frankly it just didn't seem important right then. I liked it, it's different for me to not have to worry about when things were happening and just drift. Pity the radio wouldn't work in here, no power and all that. Music would be nice right now, just me, my friend, the open road and no place in particular to be for the summer. That was an overly simplistic sentiment, but could you blame me for trying to look on the bright side of this mess? It sure beat crying my eyes out wondering what we were to do with ourselves.

  Billy here, look, I know its rude to read someone else's journal and even worse to write in it, but Julian's driving and frankly I'm booooooored. Just me, nothing in here to read because all the other books are packed up, and- Wait a tick. What's over there? Just Jenny's two kids trying to make a little fun for themselves, nothing to get worried over there. Never understood her, but she's got a nice attitude, and manages to pull off the 'just climbed out of a plane' look oh so well. Got to respect that, even if I do think the scarf's a bit much.

  Anyway I've flipped through here and come to the conclusion, Julian, that you're too damned apologetic in your prose. This is a journal, snapshots of somebody's life. It's supposed to be messy for God's sake! Stop thinking about how it’s going to look and just let your thoughts roll. If you're so concerned about appearances you can always rewrite the thing later. I'm

  going to sleep.

  Due to this last entry Billy made, I ended up finally deciding that we should speak instead of snipe via my journal. I'm running out of paper, and it would be faster this way. "Billy, it’s simply how I write. Let well enough alone and eventually one way or another it'll work out. Besides, if I wrote like you then nobody could tell us apart. While I'm sure that would be amusing, it'd get annoying. Why were we playing word tag with my book anyway? There's maybe five feet at most between the two of us."

  "Because, 'Julies'," There was a sigh from the driver's seat, "when I'm driving you're snoring, or I'm too busy trying to make the horses mind me to listen to what you have to say, and when you're driving you're usually too focused on the road to talk. I don't have anything better to do back here anyway." Billy stuck her tongue out at me before looking back to the road to avoid the larger ruts that had been playing hell with the buggy's wheels.

  "Why not try drawing? It takes time and concentration, plus you know I'm not terribly picky, so don't worry about how it comes out." I knew I sounded whiny, and tired, partially because we had been on the road for the past six hours, and I simply was not used to being bounced about so much. I wrote my apologies here, even though I didn't voice them aloud.

  "My 'drawings' are even worse than yours!" Despite the tone in her voice Billy didn't even bother turning from watching the road to glare at me. "That and this buggy keeps bouncing about. You'd think they put holes in the road just to aggravate us. Right now I'm driving, but even if I weren't I still wouldn't be able to draw so much as a stick figure. Besides you know how I get when I'm aggravated."

  I shuddered without realizing it. The last time I had the pleasure of experiencing Billy irritated ended with me dodging her for the whole week while trying to find ways to keep her from beating everyone she came across senseless and destroying half the house in the process. It's a rare thing, and I'm glad for it, because her temper was one o
f the things my father, Deus forgive him for his sins and grant him leniency, cited as why gholem and men were not made equal.

  Nightfall

  Sunset brought an end to our trip for the day. Billy tethered the horses while I made a meal out of the things from the ice chest so we could save the canned things and preserves for later if at all possible. What we brought isn't enough food to keep us for more than a couple weeks at best, but no sense squandering what's there, right? Steak and eggs are on the menu tonight. Mmm, Breakfast at dinnertime.

  Billy lay beside me, and poked the coals idly while she waited, "What will we do when we get there?" Her hand fished out a roll of bills from one of the boots I'd taken off once camp was made. Reasonable question I guess, but she doesn't stop. "I've never seen you carry much money on you, and between everyone else that's gotten the same idea we have I'm sure if anyone's hiring we'll have to compete for anything meaningful." She watched me turn the eggs. "Sure I could get a job as a bodyguard, or a bouncer, but what about you?"

  I sighed, setting one egg on my plate, one on Billy's; this followed by the two steaks, again, one for each of us. "I've never really thought about it. Father made sure I had a good education, even if I didn't take any higher learning. Maybe somebody needs a farm hand if nothing else." Billy scowled at me, "No I'm serious, if there's nothing in town, and there's usually work to be had around somebody's farm. Usually pays in what they've got rather than money," I set the teakettle and its little stand on the coals to heat the water up. "It isn't like we weren't going to buy those sorts of things anyhow, so why not just cut out the middle man?"

  Our conversation was interrupted by first the food, then the soft hiss of the kettle as the water rose to a boil. Tea was as good a drink as many others, and far better than getting drunk of spirits, though Billy's constantly getting onto me for making it too sweet. What could I say? Sweet tea was a weakness of mine.

  After I'd finished cleaning our dishes off, which primarily consisted of wiping them down and stowing them in separate from the rest to be properly washed later, I noticed Billy had managed to dig one of her books out. I had never understood why she likes romance as a genre. The plots always struck me as a bit flimsy at best, and at worst an excuse for someone to waste paper with indecent doings. Billy tossed a slightly barbed reply to my musings back at me, "And yet it’s perfectly OK to detail every scream and cry for help of someone as they're torn limb from limb? I smell a double standard here." To each their own, I suppose. It forestalled any further talk of what we would do once we got there. This suited me just fine because I honestly had not one clue how to respond.

  Date: 28 May

  Mood: Perky

  On the road again, I felt good, Billy seemed to be in better spirits after last night. Perhaps this was because before we started I had helped her get a few of her books out to occupy her time when it wasn’t her turn driving. With luck, we would be in Ashton by lunchtime, Supper if we're not. I've a song in my heart, money in my pocket, and a wonderful lass by my side. The future is a chancy thing, but for the moment I was doing just fine. I would let tomorrow worry about itself; the world wouldn’t end if I relaxed a little.

  While I'd been here before, Ashton was unfamiliar to both of us. Still, the basics were the same here as well as home. We managed to find lodging for the horses and ourselves for the next week easily enough. Granted it cost most of our remaining money, but not having to worry about where we're going to sleep takes a burden off my mind before it had a chance to become more than a slight concern. Billy too seemed to be more at ease now that we had a home, even if it was temporary. "Tomorrow can wait for itself," she told me, "for the moment I'm just happy to have a bed."

  Even though the sentiment was something I could agree on, my mind just wouldn't let me sit and take the remainder of the day off. Even after I had seen to the disposition of our things, which cost yet more money, and watched the horses get settled in I felt restless. While the stable hands were paid to do this, it was still my responsibility to make sure my animals were taken care of. To help deal with my restlessness I decided I needed to head into town to see what could be seen, and hopefully find work in the process.

  Dusk

  This many people in one area, and nobody would hire. I frankly couldn't bring myself to believe this was the case. I'd always been told that there was always work if you were willing to look for it. Maybe it's the fact that I was still tired from the ride and my head was too fuzzed to see opportunity spitting me in the face. Maybe it was the fact that word of Belleberg's overall situation filtered through and the locals were reluctant to help, fearing reprisals. Whatever, their squeamishness was only another obstacle that I would to have to work around.

  Why not just go back to Morrison? As I said at the start of this account the two communities were practically conjoined, or at least most felt it wasn't far enough to run if any want to chase after us. That and most of Morrison had fled too.

  Billy, I'm giving you permission to use this journal to write of your own prowling tonight while I catch up on my sleep.

  Seems this place perks up rather nicely at night. Not only did all the boarded up looking buildings show their true colors, but also a few of the more interesting street vendors have come out to cater to the more adventurous, or is it unsavory, sort of customer. One of the benefits of being what I am, I suppose, is that they automatically assume either I’m on somebody else's business, or looking for a rougher sort than most 'decent' people would admit to. I'm not sure how to take that really, I know it’s biased and shows I'll probably get treated much the same as I did when I first showed up under Julian's roof.

  Oh well, not much I can do about how I'm seen except to give it time. Until then there is work that needs to be found, and while I don't like much of what's being sold on its own merits, it does provide an opportunity for me. Though I'm sure Julian will disapprove of my acting as a door 'man' for any of these places he will, hopefully, understand that I'm doing what I can. He'll find out about this only after it's too late for me to back out, which will only leave him resentful that I didn't consult him first.

  He worries about me, which I suppose I should be grateful for, but sometimes it's more a headache to deal with than if he just trusted my judgment. Before the day is out, he’ll decide that what’s done is done so best to work with what’s there. Love that about him really, he seems to take much in stride no matter how much whining he'll do at the onset, though he does bring up a few things at the oddest of moments.

  Dawn approaches and I need a nap. Please don't wake me up, I've been yelled at enough by too many people tonight. On the bright side, I managed to get five dollars for the hour I put in helping diffuse a scuffle that the resident help was having problems with. I'm not sure if they resent me or are grateful I dropped by. Hope they won't be violent about it, since both of 'em look like the 'could crush a man's skull in their hands' types, and I hate fights when the only way it'll end is with somebody not coming home.

  Please Julian. Take a few minutes to think before doing anything drastic like, say, pouring a pitcher of water on me. I'm tired, sore, and if you do that, I might end up breaking the thing over your head. For your own good let me be.

  Date: 29 May

  Mood: Quirky

  After I read Billy's account of last night I debated on dousing her with cold water anyway just to get the point across that I didn't like her doing anything without the both of us discussing it beforehand. Then I saw the bruises on her face and where her nightshirt had shifted to show parts of her stomach. Seemed that fight she mentioned in passing wasn't so minor a scuffle after all, and she got a job, which was more than I could say for myself. So Billy lay sleeping, un-drenched, while I prepared for my own job hunt.

  The first order of business, however, was breakfast, and we were out of the things needed for what I considered a proper first meal. I had spotted a diner across the street before we checked in, which is a good thing because what I want is a hot meal
, and I do believe coffee will hit the spot quite nicely. Now then, what to wear? Navy trousers, dark gray waistcoat and navy jacket, or black trousers and jacket with dark green pin stripes and a deep green jacket? The latter I suppose, besides I'd gotten a new fedora last month that goes with the black outfit. Tie... tie, hello tiiiiieee, where are you? Aaaah there we are. It's just a clip on, but it helps complete the outfit.

  Now that I made myself presentable, it was time for me to find breakfast. Coffee looks a bit steep, half-dollar for the coffee and, wait, that can't be right. THIS is what I got for a half-dollar? No, damned you people I don't care if I'm making a scene.

  Calm. Nothing good would come from shouting. So instead of making a spectacle, no matter how much immediate gratification it would give me, I calmly asked the waitress that brought this astoundingly tiny thimble of coffee if they had somehow mixed up my order with somebody else's. I had asked for a, pardon me, 'tall' coffee. Well it seemed that in this coffee house tall is their smallest size, with the portion I was more accustomed to being the 'Grandé', and costing a dollar more. She was quite polite in explaining this to me, and even offered to correct my oversight if I'd pay the difference, which I did. I may feel like this place was gouging, but I literally need my coffee in the morning else I can't focus until well after noon and would be snappish and bitter the whole time.

  Perhaps the level of service I had gotten was because I was an obvious first-time customer and they wished to make a good impression. Perhaps it was part of their standard service, which would have gone a long way towards explaining the prices I had seen on the menu. I was given the morning edition of the paper and asked if there were any records, I would like to be put in rotation once the queue cleared.