Uniting Nations Chapter 3 (Ash)

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 as a rule she would accept, but seven hour horse rides weren’t exactly the general rule either, and 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 she would stick to.

It was now proving hard to stick to anything, including the saddle. Her eyelids drooped, her whole body felt heavy and 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. The fact that she was a girl merely added to the risk.

So she pushed on, not needing to urge Fury, her white mare, who had sensed that they were near home long ago. Ash could see the lights of Holbrook, 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. By now most nights the town would be quieting down; folks either would already be in bed, or sitting out on their porches talking to one another by candlelight or electric lanterns planning to hit the sack sooner than later.

Tonight however she noticed a cluster of torches and electric lanterns gathered outside a modest, orange brick house. There were at least seven men that she could see, knocking on the sturdy oak door. A low murmur rippled through the small group, and from the sounds of it, it wasn’t a happy one. Their faces were drawn tight.

“Something’s wrong, Fury,” Ash said to her mare as they clip-clopped to a stop by the group of concerned villagers.

Ashliah hopped from the saddle and landed with a soft thud, her legs buckling slightly from a hard day's work. As she led Fury up to the group, she recognized one of the younger men, named Tom, whom 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 to be a necessary and good thing for children and teens to go through, 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, something he’d done ever since he graduated, as she headed for the stable behind the brick house, her house. 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 the doorway, his tall and muscular frame forming an imposing silhouette. Ash 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 glared at the group for a moment, and then headed inside, shaking her head. 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 with a blue tin pot steaming bubbling in it. Ash stalked over to the pot and was happy to find rabbit stew within. 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, pepper, and barley.

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. Fury stood outside patiently munching on grass. Ash relived the mare 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 its mane and, if horses can, snickered with delight.

Feeling a little better, but just as exhausted, 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 sank to a seat 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. 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 cancer!"

"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."