16 Meeting People

The pits smoked all that summer, and they attracted more than zombies: they attracted people, too. In the first year of plague, visitors used to be common. At first they were mostly survivors who were trying to form connections, but it didn't take long for the visitations to turn violent and meeting new people became fraught with uncertainty. For a while, just as many people died at the hands of their fellow man as from the formerly men. That was about the time settlements started to hide, which ironically made them more susceptible to the raiders if they were discovered. Over time, there were fewer and fewer of us, and encounters became rarer as our race edged closer to extinction. But it's in our nature to find friends and companions, so even in the late stages of Plague we sought each other out. A few new people had joined the Sojourners over winter, and when the smoke from the pits attracted three people to the area there was some hope of expanding yet again.

One of the burn crews spotted strangers stealthing between buildings near one of the pits, apparently trying to get a look at it without being seen. They were an old man, almost too old to walk, and a pair of boys who couldn't have been more than thirteen. The man wore sunglasses and a floppy hat, a shirt and jeans so worn they had taken on the color of concrete. The boys wore brand-new sneakers and dirty track suits, the tops tied around their waists against the approaching summer. The lot of them were so thin, together they would barely make one healthy person.

Caleb always led the meet-and-greet team, and any reports of strangers went directly to him. He was our first choice for an envoy because a young man was threatening, and a woman was likely to be raped out of hand. An old man was less a threat and not likely to be raped, so Caleb got the job of being the first to speak to anyone new. His usual technique was to watch strangers from a distance, then decide if and how they should be approached. Most passers-by he tried to recruit, while a few he let pass by.

I heard that during my years in Norcali, Caleb once recommended a group of five be killed outright, with no other contact. When I asked him about it, he said the story was true. Caleb said they were clearly marauders, people who only lived by stealing from others and left nothing behind them but a trail of dead bodies. Sojourners ambushed the strangers and killed them all, then raided their supplies. What they found was mostly people, butchered and smoked for the road. Nobody regretted killing them.

So, meeting new people was tricky business. Cannibal marauders was just the worst case: there were others. Some people were simply unstable, prone to fits of paranoia or violence. Father Caleb tried to welcome and rehabilitate those. Other people were happy to take the colony's protection, but were unwilling to contribute anything of value. Those had to be cast out.

To Caleb those first contacts where the second-most important work of the colony after raising children. He had broadcast a sermon every Sunday without fail for years on end, and every single one ended with instructions on how to contact the colony. He never told people where we were of course, that would have been reckless. But if you went to such-and-such a place and lit a signal fire then we would come find you. Or if you radioed back to us during "listening times" then a meeting could be arranged. That's how I got in touch with them when I came back. Half his flock had been found this way.

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The Father also had a highly refined bullshit detector, an indispensable asset for an envoy. He used to say the way people treated their weakest members was a good indicator of character, so a group with elderly or injured were good candidates. One old man and two scrawny boys could be a good find. On his first meeting with the strangers, Caleb tossed them a pack of supplies and invited them to dinner right away, but they scampered. They waited two more days to radio us again.

I didn't see the trio until dinnertime a few days later. They were scarecrows, hunched over bowls of potato and corn soup. Like so many before them, it was hunger that drove them into the arms of Sojourners. It helped that we never offered them violence, I'm sure, but I've heard stories of people who would put up with some awful treatment in exchange for just a promise of food.

Caleb introduced us: the old man was Jules, and the boys were Alex and Tim. "This is our engineer. Son, they've been asking about North California."

"Sure, what do you want to know?"

Jules swallowed and asked, "You spent time there? After, I mean."

"Yes," I told him, "I lived north of the San Francisco bay for a couple years. Just came back several months ago."

"What's it like, these days?" Under a thatch of eyebrow Jules's eyes were questing, jumping back and forth between my own.

"Well, the weather is amazing," I told him, "and if you stick to the hills there is plenty of good hunting. Ducks in the lowlands, too. You can grow almost anything, all year long. If it weren't for the plague, it would be paradise."

The boys looked at each other, excited. "But I don't recommend trying it, definitely not in your current state," I added.

"Thought we'd come to that. If it's so much paradise, why are you back here?"

"Too much zombie. Sir, that corner of the country has always been popular with people, and now zombies like it too. It's the mild climate. There were six or seven million people living there before, and their zombies never migrated away. Then we got migrations from LA up through central valley, and they didn't stop until Earth At Last flooded it. It's real dense out there. Could be nine million now. As bad as New Jersey, before they bombed it."

"We can step up to zombies well enough," said old Jules. "It's people we have problems with." There was a long pause while Jules ate, and Caleb and I looked at each other. I badly wanted to know more about the old man's "people problems", and Caleb wanted them to stay.

"Perhaps we can make a trade," Caleb offered.

"What kind of trade?" Jules sounded very wary.

"You can stay a while, and rest up. In exchange for food and protection, you give something in return. The boys can work, same as the others their age and maybe they'll learn something useful, too. What we want from you is your story. Where you've been and the people you've met. That kind of thing. When you're stronger you can decide to stay or to go."

"And if I decide we're leaving, right now, what do we owe you?"

"Nothing," said Caleb. "Nothing at all. You can walk out right now with everything you came here with, and nobody will stop you. But we'd like you to stay." Caleb could convince people like that, a trick I never learned.

I'm sorry to say they didn't stay long, less than two weeks. But Jules had traveled far, and he had some rare gems to share.