equally dilapidated barn crumbling away beside it. Breaching the top of the bank the three men carefully made their way towards it.
“Been abandoned as long as the airbase,” Rex said. “Maybe they had some sort of war going on that forced both sides to abandon their homes.”
“67 years is a long time for a war to be carried on.” Jed bent down and picked up a spent cartridge. “It’s Montrose who drove these people out.”
Rex gazed out across the fields. “I can see other buildings further ahead. But I’m willing to bet they’ll all be in a similar state.”
Jed walked over to where he was and followed his line of sight. “Shall we keep moving?”
“We might as well there’s nothing to keep us here, and we need to go where the game is plentiful.”
“If we keep to the farmhouses I think we’ll be all right,” Jed said. “They’ve been derelict for so long I doubt anyone will be patrolling them.”
Rex slung his rifle across his shoulder. “Let’s take our chances amongst the farmhouses then.”
Every building they came to told the same story. Long deserted the decades since had worked their decaying fingers into the stone and timber dwellings, and once cultivated fields lay silently succumbing to the brush and weeds, which would eventually reclaim them for the forest that they had once been carved from. If it had not been for his gratitude for not having died a bitter death back on the ice then Jed could have wished himself not in this place. The very desolation filled him with sorrow, a sorrow he couldn’t fully understand but felt acutely nonetheless.
Something puzzled him about these abandoned farms. There were no animals. Not even wild ones. Where were they? From what he had read, when people moved out of an area the wild creatures gradually reclaimed it for themselves. Six or more decades had passed in this place and yet not as much as a wild deer or a pig had he seen. The contrast between here and the prairie they had traversed when they first crossed over into the interior was immense. The prairie back there had been teeming with wildlife. It was certainly a mystery.
Without them realizing, the river had meandered back towards the farmland and was snaking its way stealthily towards the path they were on. They were just breaking out of the cover of a small grove of trees when Rex who had been scouting on ahead signaled for them to take cover. Jed and Jonathon went straight to ground and wriggled through the long grass to join Rex who was peering intently at a spot down by the river.
“Montrose’s men,” he whispered. “There’s another canoe down there and it looks like they’ve captured a couple of the natives.”
Jed took the situation in. Two men in army uniforms were rough-handling a young woman while three others had forced a young man onto his knees. A fourth, obviously the one in charge, was shouting something at him that Jed couldn’t quite make out. Whatever it was, he obviously wasn’t getting the response from the native that he desired and so pulled a pistol from his hip holster and placed it against the man’s head.
Jed didn’t stop to think; swinging his rifle up and pulling back the bolt he took aim and fired. The savage kick of the stock against his shoulder surprised him almost as much as the fact that the bullet found its mark. Rex and Jonathon immediately followed his lead, and three more men lay dead on the shingle bank beside the river.
The woman’s two captors tossed her savagely aside and took cover in a group of bushes. The slightest movement attracted Jed’s attention and so firing without hesitation at it was gratified to see a khaki clad figure pitch forward and slide to a halt on the gravel. He feverishly jerked at the jammed bolt as a second figure broke cover and made a run for it. “Drop him,” he yelled, “or he’ll let Montrose know we’re here.”
Rex didn’t need any encouragement, he took careful aim and fired, and Jed was
“Been abandoned as long as the airbase,” Rex said. “Maybe they had some sort of war going on that forced both sides to abandon their homes.”
“67 years is a long time for a war to be carried on.” Jed bent down and picked up a spent cartridge. “It’s Montrose who drove these people out.”
Rex gazed out across the fields. “I can see other buildings further ahead. But I’m willing to bet they’ll all be in a similar state.”
Jed walked over to where he was and followed his line of sight. “Shall we keep moving?”
“We might as well there’s nothing to keep us here, and we need to go where the game is plentiful.”
“If we keep to the farmhouses I think we’ll be all right,” Jed said. “They’ve been derelict for so long I doubt anyone will be patrolling them.”
Rex slung his rifle across his shoulder. “Let’s take our chances amongst the farmhouses then.”
Every building they came to told the same story. Long deserted the decades since had worked their decaying fingers into the stone and timber dwellings, and once cultivated fields lay silently succumbing to the brush and weeds, which would eventually reclaim them for the forest that they had once been carved from. If it had not been for his gratitude for not having died a bitter death back on the ice then Jed could have wished himself not in this place. The very desolation filled him with sorrow, a sorrow he couldn’t fully understand but felt acutely nonetheless.
Something puzzled him about these abandoned farms. There were no animals. Not even wild ones. Where were they? From what he had read, when people moved out of an area the wild creatures gradually reclaimed it for themselves. Six or more decades had passed in this place and yet not as much as a wild deer or a pig had he seen. The contrast between here and the prairie they had traversed when they first crossed over into the interior was immense. The prairie back there had been teeming with wildlife. It was certainly a mystery.
Without them realizing, the river had meandered back towards the farmland and was snaking its way stealthily towards the path they were on. They were just breaking out of the cover of a small grove of trees when Rex who had been scouting on ahead signaled for them to take cover. Jed and Jonathon went straight to ground and wriggled through the long grass to join Rex who was peering intently at a spot down by the river.
“Montrose’s men,” he whispered. “There’s another canoe down there and it looks like they’ve captured a couple of the natives.”
Jed took the situation in. Two men in army uniforms were rough-handling a young woman while three others had forced a young man onto his knees. A fourth, obviously the one in charge, was shouting something at him that Jed couldn’t quite make out. Whatever it was, he obviously wasn’t getting the response from the native that he desired and so pulled a pistol from his hip holster and placed it against the man’s head.
Jed didn’t stop to think; swinging his rifle up and pulling back the bolt he took aim and fired. The savage kick of the stock against his shoulder surprised him almost as much as the fact that the bullet found its mark. Rex and Jonathon immediately followed his lead, and three more men lay dead on the shingle bank beside the river.
The woman’s two captors tossed her savagely aside and took cover in a group of bushes. The slightest movement attracted Jed’s attention and so firing without hesitation at it was gratified to see a khaki clad figure pitch forward and slide to a halt on the gravel. He feverishly jerked at the jammed bolt as a second figure broke cover and made a run for it. “Drop him,” he yelled, “or he’ll let Montrose know we’re here.”
Rex didn’t need any encouragement, he took careful aim and fired, and Jed was
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