The Seeds of Man by William C. Dietz Page B

the gas pumps were riddled with bullet holes. Still, it was a place to pause, and people went every which way looking for places to sit and eat.
    Lora took the opportunity to seek out her father. He was sitting on a seed trunk next to Cassie, and as they looked up at her, the two adults wore guilty expressions, like kids caught raiding a cookie jar. Lora felt the usual sense of resentment but pushed it away. Her father desired some happiness, and if that meant Cassie, then so be it. Lora would get out of the way. “Hey, Lora,” George said awkwardly. “How’s it going?”
    “Fine,” Lora replied, “but I think some people are struggling.”
    George nodded. “You’re right. We’re out of shape.”
    “That’s true,” Lora agreed, “but it’s more than that. The seed boxes are hard to carry.”
    George frowned. “We aren’t going to dump the seeds, Lora . . . not after all we sacrificed to get here.”
    “That isn’t what I have in mind,” Lora replied. “My pack is half-empty. So is yours. Why not divvy the seeds up between everyone in the group? Give the men more, younger women a little less, and old people a minimal amount. That would be fair and make it easier to walk through the snow.”
    Cassie smiled. “I think Lora’s plan is absolutely brilliant.”
    George nodded. “You’re right. She should take the idea to Harvey Nix.”
    “No,”
Lora said emphatically. “You tell him. He’ll listen to you.”
    “She’s right,” Cassie put in. “People will get over the Mackey thing—but it’s still fresh in their minds.”
    So George went to see Nix, and after a fifteen-minute discussion, the decision was made. All the leavers were told to empty their packs so that a package of seeds could be placed in the bottom of each. Lora wouldn’t get credit for the idea but didn’t care. It was going to make the trip easier for everyone concerned, and that was the main thing.
    Just as the rest of the group finished the process of dividing the seeds, Beck appeared with an armful of poles. While some were made from aluminum tubing and some had been cut from dowels, all had been found in the piles of junk out back. There was a clatter as they spilled onto the ground. “There aren’t enough for everyone,” Beck announced, “but it’s a start. I cut them long so people can whittle them down to the length they need.”
    Lora made no attempt to acquire poles for herself, knowing others needed them more, but made a note to keep her eyes peeled. In her opinion, the aluminum tubing looked like the way to go.
    By the time it was over, the break had consumed two hours rather than the half hour Nix had envisioned. But having rid themselves of the boxes, and having acquired trekking poles for half the group, the leavers were able to move more quickly than before. The highway wasn’t what it had been fifty years earlier, yet thanks to the fact that the section they were on was flat and straight, it was easy to circumvent the few obstacles they encountered.
    It wasn’t long before the group established a regular rhythm in which people went forward to learn about the firearms some of them had been issued, stayed for a while, and were rotated to the back of the column. Lora knew it was important to learn everything she could, so she forced herself into the rotation and was pleased to find that no one objected. Fry had the instructions down by the time she reached him, so it wasn’t long before she understood the difference between a rifle and a shotgun, the advantages of each, and the basics of gun safety.
    At about three in the afternoon, they arrived at an intersection where roads came in from the east and west. There were some run-down buildings, some snow-humped cars, and a lot of tracks, all headed south. “It looks as if people are coming together for some reason,” Ed Dero observed. “I wonder what it is?”
    Lora and Dero were walking side by side at that point, talking about his favorite subject,