“I know. I talked to him. And look.” Chad pointed. “It’s separated and got that cream setting on top. You know the kids like the cream. I was super careful not to mix it in the walk up here.”
“Can’t take your milk. We have powder.” Falcon turned and opened the cupboard and pulled out a jar.
The soup jars were Stacy’s idea. Sealed in that jar were dehydrated vegetables, little bits of meat, and a powder that was a soup base.
He handed the jar to Chad. “Fill it with water and let it set if you don’t want to cook. It’ll be good in two hours.”
Chad grasped the jar as if it were gold. “I can’t thank you enough. Keep the milk.”
“I can’t take the milk from your wife. Give it to her.”
“I won’t feel right if I don’t give it to you,” Chad said. “Really. And I bartered it.”
“What did you barter for the milk?” Falcon asked.
“Five cigarettes.”
“Aw, Chad, come on. Damn it.” Falcon tossed out his hand. “You know as well as I do that come Tuesday bartering folks would have given you ten times as much. Why didn’t you just come here first?”
“You don’t need the cigarettes; you make them.”
“I don’t mean about that. Why didn’t you just come here to get the soup first? Jesus.” Falcon pulled out a chair and sat down. “Come to me first, please.”
“I will. And thank you.”
Falcon nodded.
Chad started to leave but stopped. He looked left and right, Falcon knew he spotted the boxes and bags. “Where you headed? You going to Corbin to barter?” Chad asked.
“No. Those are traveling supplies for me and the kids.”
Slowly, Chad turned to face Falcon. “Where are you taking them?”
“North.”
“So you’re not going as far north as Corbin?” Chad asked. “Cause it looks like you’ll be gone for a while with all this.”
“Week or so.”
Chad’s expression dropped. “Where are you going, Falcon?”
“I’m heading to the PML.”
It took Chad a moment. He tilted his head with a questioning look and then it dawned on him. ”The Presidential Memorial Library?”
Falcon nodded.
“That’s about as far north as you can go.”
“I know.”
“And it ain’t there. I mean it probably is, but it ain’t open anymore. It can’t be. You yourself told the story of how they opened it when they thought we were gonna win the war.”
“I know.”
“What is so important there?”
“You know what, my treasure.”
“It may be gone.”
“It may be, but I have to check. It’s mine. And I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Been telling the kids about it. I gave it to the PML to keep that piece of history. I didn't know it wouldn’t be carried on. Now, I want my kid to carry it on.”
“OK, that’s fine. Why don’t you leave the kids with me and Lea?”
Falcon shook his head.
“Falcon,” Chad spoke passionately. “You can’t trek three hundred plus miles with them babies. Not north. Not up there. It’s dangerous.”
“How do you know?” Falcon asked. “I mean, they lifted the hazards two years ago. At least that’s what Bill Gleece said. So how do you know? When’s the last time you were out there.”
“When’s the last time you were?” Chad asked. “When? When’s the last time you left Kentucky? Left the county? Hell this town? When? I’ll tell you when, years, Fal. Years. Not since Lilly came. You haven’t ventured farther north than Corbin to trade. And your kids? They don’t know this world, just your tales. They’ve never been farther than town. And they don’t go there often.”
“And that’s why I am taking them. For me and for them,” Falcon said. “Aren’t you curious about what has become of the world?”
“No.” Chad answered quickly. “No, I’m not. I know here in Kentucky, at least in these parts, we work together. We eat a little, wash. I don’t want to know what became of the world. I can only imagine.”
“But what if it’s better?” Falcon said. “What if there’s a better place out there and we are just so locked up down here that we don’t know. All we know is what we hear, and you and I have heard there are better places.”
“And worse.”
“Yes, yes, we heard that.” Falcon nodded. “But we do know that out there are pockets of green. The preservation center is somewhere. We know that for a fact. Bathing stations?” Falcon tilted his head. “If there are two outside former Lexington, then there has to be others.”
“I truly understand why you want to go,” Chad said. “I do. I also understand the need to know what’s out there. Hell, go and tell us all. But please, do not take them kids. They don’t need to see it.”
“I kinda think they do.”
“Why is that?” Chad asked.
“Because they are the future. And if they can see what we did to the world, then maybe… just maybe,” Falcon said. “They’ll learn what they should not do.”
5. Facts
Falcon really did hear what Chad had to say, despite his hard core stance on taking the children with him. It was true that he himself had not left the county in years. His children never ventured farther than town.
What did they know of the world as it was?
They knew of the farm—a farm that in their lifetime was fertile and over the last year started turning brown and dying.
They remembered trees. Bill Gleece has one in a make shift greenhouse so he can preserve it for the children of the future.
Roads were still functioning, somewhat, and not entirely overgrown because everyone in town used them. The driveway to the farm house was in repair.
Despite the drought, they didn’t know much devastation.
And the world beyond their home had been devastated.
Lexington was one of the cities hit by a small payload nuclear weapon. The city had long since been abandoned.
But what remained? Falcon didn’t know.
He asked Chad if he wouldn’t mind staying with the kids while they had their breakfast. Chad had no problem doing that because Falcon told him where he was going.
To see Bill Gleece.
If there was one, Bill would be the Mayor of Landon, Kentucky.
He ran the barter days and worked with the western government when they brought in rations.
Bill was pushing sixty and said he wasn’t going to go into preservation. That surprised Falcon; everyone looked forward to that.
In any event, if anyone knew what the world was like, it was Bill Gleece. He had men he sent out scouting for things. The brought back reports along with the items.
When Falcon arrived at Bill’s house, he offered him a cigarette for his time. Bill initially declined, but then took it, telling Falcon he was the rich in the community, owning all that tobacco.
And then Bill invited Falcon into his kitchen and spread a map open on the table.
There were handmade markings on the map and Falcon was glad to see them.
“What’s out there, Bill?” Falcon asked. “I need to know.”
“All right you know this here,” Bill indicted to the western states. “They’re off limits. The government has yet to open the door to transients yet. Doubt highly they ever will. I’m mean, word has it they have a lot of pockets of green. You’re going north?”
“How bad is it?”
“Bad. My men report a few pockets of green. Not much. Not big. After Former Lexington, don’t expect another bathing station at least until Indiana. And there are no transient camps. Most are east in Virginia, West Virginia. Now, if you want green, I hear tell that’s the place to go.”
“West Virginia?”
“Yep. Limited hits, limited damage, problem is they got that locked down tight in that state. My men couldn’t get in. I lost one as they tried to sneak in through the one patch of green.”