The Past of the Future - Chapter 2

A/N: So I know Messenger's name comes second in this by-line but this is his chapter. I have written about twenty words of it in total. If I could put his name first, I would. We decided just to publish it all through my account so that it's together. And Mess, sorry this took so long. I've had a test, an essay, a source question and about 120 pages of novels in total to read this week.

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The last streaks of the sunset blazed across the sky, scattering shadows abroad, some forming into strange shapes pertaining to the nature of ghouls and monsters for those with a vivid imagination. The crickets were chirping, the song birds singing one last time before heading off for rest, while the occasional owl began to awaken himself and prepare for a night hunt.

The rhythm of nature was interrupted by a new sound, a rhythm in itself; that of pa-dum, pa-dum, pa-dum. . . .

Ashliah slouched slightly in the saddle, her shoulders drooping far lower than she generally would accept. But after a seven hour ride she was in no mood to argue with her body, especially when it was screaming for sleep. Obviously she couldn't risk falling asleep in the saddle either, so she’d made a compromise.

It was now proving hard to stick to anything, including the saddle. Her eyelids were drooping, her whole body was sore from hard riding, her mouth was dry, her stomach empty, but she had no effort to stop and aid any of these misfortunes. She knew that sleeping out in this type of country was dangerous, especially being alone. Doubly so when it was a girl.

So she pushed on, urging Fury, her white mare, to a quicker gait. She could see the lights of Hollbrook, now that she had rounded the last bend in the shaded path. With some renewed energy she pulled herself up and at last cantered into town. Generally by now the town would be quieting down, folks either already would be in bed, or sitting out on their porches talking to one another by candlelight.

Tonight however she saw a cluster of torches and electric lanterns gathered outside a modest, orange brick house. There were at least seven men she could see, knocking on the sturdy oak door. They seemed to be upset over something.

Ashliah hopped from the saddle and landed with a soft thud, her legs buckling slightly from a hard day's work. Leading Fury up to them Ashliah recognized one of the younger men, named Tom, a boy she'd met in school. He was now nineteen and long out, whereas she had just graduated. Although Ashliah definitely enjoyed school and found it necessary, she didn't brag about the fact that she was one of the few people who had graduated. Tom was a different story. He took it to mean that he could boss others around and found himself superior.

Ashliah noticed him give a slight sneer as she headed for the stable behind the brick house, her house, and with great restraint she kept her temper and merely said, "Tom, I'm graduated now. We're equals. Shut your fat mouth."

Before he could reply she sauntered past with her head held high, a tight smile on her lips. She tied Fury to a riding post beside the stable, gave the strong horse a good pat on the nose, and walked back to the front of the house. The front door was now opened. Ashliah's father stood in it, his tall and muscular frame forming a silhouette. She slipped through the small crowd to stand by him. He had been about to say something it appeared, but he saw Ashliah and gave her a tight hug, kissing her forehead at the same time.

"Good to see you back, Ash. There's food in the kitchen all warmed up." He gestured to the inside of the house.

Ash frowned, releasing her dad and looking back to the men at the door. "What do they want?"

Her father patted her back. "Go inside. I'll settle this and tell you in a few minutes."

"Is this about the border?" Ash asked deliberately.

Her father nodded. He spoke in a calm and quiet voice, but it still held authority. "Yes, Ash. I'll tell you about it in a few minutes.Please, go inside."

Ash gave one quick glance at the group, and then headed inside, holding her temper in. She yanked her riding gloves off harder than usual, tossing them carelessly onto the small wooden table in the kitchen. There was a warm glow in the room, originating by the black stove on the left wall, a blue tin pot of something bubbling in it. Ash stalked over to it and was happy to find rabbit stew. Her father wasn't the greatest cook, but he could beat just about anybody in making rabbit stew. She took a deep breath, soaking in the rich aromas of the tender meat chunks, the garlic and barley, the pepper, and the other flavorful ingredients.

She found a bowl and spoon nearby and dolloped herself a big portion. She set the meal down on the table where half a loaf of bread lay, and then she headed out the back door. She relieved Fury of the saddle and bridle, rubbed her down, fed her some hay, and then bedded her down. The horse snorted contentedly as Ash left. She gave a crooked smile to the animal and tossed a carrot she had been hiding in her pocket all along. The horse shook her mane and, if horses can do this, snickered with delight.

Feeling a little better, but just as tired, Ash slumped to the house. She removed her boots at the door and then dug into the meal. She was almost finished when her father, Mayor Fredrick Woods, loyal servant of the people, entered the warm room. He slumped at the table holding his head in his hands.

"Dad, what did they want?" she asked in a tone that showed annoyance to the men outside, and compassion for her father. "You work so hard all the time. Why don't they give you some support?"

He sighed, lifting his head. "They do on most things. I've been mayor for six years. It's just that this border issue keeps coming up. I'm not the first person to deal with it."

Ash let out of frustrated groan. "Why does anyone want to allow people from Lone back in? It's like asking for someone to give you typhoid fever!"

"You don't know that," Fredrick said, giving her a reproving look. "You can't blame every single person over there because of one incident that-"

"Killed forty people!" Ash interrupted, letting out more emotion than she meant to. She saw the weariness in her dad's eyes. It was more than fatigue. It was an absolute bone tiredness. He needed support, she knew. He had no wife like he should. She told herself for the hundredth time in the past ten years that she needed to be supporting him.

"I'm sorry dad. I didn't mean to say it like that. It's just ..."

"I know, I know," her dad said, nodding and rubbing his eyes. "Everyone thinks they are a health hazard, and they could be. But no one has come into contact with a Loner in over sixty years. You have to consider facts, not just what you've been taught. And with people feeling both ways about opening up the border or not, I have to try to funnel through the mess."

Ash conceded to let the conversation rest. She was tired and getting irritable, something she hated to do to others.

"Well let's leave it at that," she said, pulling herself up. "I'll do the dishes and then head off to bed."

Her dad was already waving his hand though. “No, no, you've been riding all day. You go to bed and I'll take care of it .it's just a few bowls and cups anyway."

Ash didn't have the strength to argue. "Thanks Dad. Goodnight. Love you!"

He smiled back. "Love you too, Ash. Sleep well."