Edmund shook his head. “There’s a council meeting this evening to decide our fates.”
“They wouldn’t just turn us away,” Rex said, but he didn’t sound as sure as he wished.
I didn’t reply since the enclave made a practice of exactly that. In all the years I lived there, they’d made one exception—for Fade—and only because his will to survive fascinated them, the way he’d lived feral and alone, bereft of protection or support. That implacable core made me admire him more, even as I promised myself I’d always be there to fight for him. It was time someone did.
“It sure is strange here,” Momma Oaks whispered then. “They don’t pray before meals, did you notice? And the women go around dressed like men.” She aimed a look at me, as if she’d just realized something. “Is that how you felt when you first arrived in Salvation?”
I smiled at that. “Yes. But if I adapted, you can, too. I don’t think people here mind that you have your own customs.” But that brought a question to mind. “How come you don’t know more about the other settlements? I can tell none of you have ever been here before.”
My mother looked shocked at the idea. “Of course not. Longshot handled all contact with outsiders. It’s been our policy for hundreds of years to limit our exposure to worldly ways.”
“It was supposed to keep us safe,” Rex whispered.
Edmund’s shoulders slumped a little. “Yes, we believed that by conforming to the covenant the original settlers made with heaven and by living plain, simple lives, God would spare us from the trials that plagued others.”
“So … Longshot kept Salvation from being … sullied?” I wasn’t sure that was the right word, but my parents nodded, so I must be in the vicinity.
“He acted as a buffer, handled all of our trade runs and when trappers and traders came to town, he did business with them outside the walls,” Rex added.
That much, I remembered; I just hadn’t known why. “But if you were so worried about bad things getting in, why did you let the four of us stay?” Before, I just thought they were kind folks in Salvation. I hadn’t realized they were so insular. Now I was genuinely curious.
Momma Oaks answered with a quote from the book Caroline Bigwater used to haul around. “‘Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.’”
“You took us in because we’re young,” I guessed. “You thought we’d learn your ways.”
Edmund smiled at me. “That’s not why we welcomed you, Deuce, only the official town policy on strangers.” Then his face fell. “Or it was.”
“Don’t think about it,” my mother whispered.
Drawing in a breath, Edmund rubbed Momma Oaks on the shoulder. “We can build a life here, if we’re welcome. Surely even soldiers need good shoes.”
I glanced down at the worn, poorly made boots that most of the men were wearing. “I’d say they’re crying out for you here.”
“I’d like to apprentice and learn the family trade,” Rex said hesitantly. “I understand if you won’t take me back, though. I’m pretty old to start from the beginning and I’ve likely forgotten what little you managed to cram into my head, before—”
Edmund smiled. “Of course, I’m happy to have you. That only applies if I can find a workshop here, of course.”
Momma Oaks was scrutinizing the green shirts and trousers that everyone wore. “Their clothes are in rags. I wonder if they know how to weave or sew, here. I could set up a shop, too.”
It was good to see them making tentative plans, imagining how they could build. Their hope renewed my own, fortified my determination to find the place I belonged. So far, I liked Soldier’s Pond better than I’d enjoyed Salvation—not that I had wanted the town destroyed. They took us in and kept us safe to the best of their abilities, and I’d always be grateful.
Shortly after I finished my food, the rest of the men filed out. Rex rose to follow them, and Momma Oaks and Edmund did likewise. I came last, watching as the soldiers jogged toward a large building on the opposite end of town. I figured that was where the meeting would be held, more organized than the impromptu sessions Elder Bigwater called on the green. Curious and apprehensive, I slipped into the hall along with the last trickle of soldiers.
Inside, there were rows of benches, similar to the mess hall, but none of them were stained, and there were no tables. The wood gleamed, attesting to the fact that they discussed serious matters here. I slid onto a bench beside soldiers I didn’t recognize. Spread throughout the crowd, I spotted a few familiar faces: Spence, Tully, and Morrow, though not Thornton—and I imagined he was mourning his fallen son.
The colonel stood up front, talking to the same group who had agreed to let her send men to Salvation. Along with everyone else, I waited to see what the verdict was. I couldn’t make out the conversation from this distance, though I could tell they were still talking. The fact that they were meant I had reason to hope for a positive outcome.
Once the room filled up, two men swung the doors closed, then locked it. They took punctuality serious in Soldier’s Pond. Then the colonel called the meeting to order by whacking the table with a small wooden hammer. The crowd quieted at once, turned expectantly toward the front as the council took their seats. Once everyone was settled, the colonel leaned forward.
“A motion has been brought to permit these folks to stay as permanent residents.” In Salvation, people would already be shouting objections or support, but the room remained calm and orderly. Colonel Park went on, “I now formerly call this meeting to order to present our decision. Mr. Walls, will you do the honors?”
The gray-haired man I remembered from their first emergency meeting stood. “Yes, Colonel.” He addressed the audience then. “After a lengthy debate, we’ve decided to offer provisional citizenship status to any families willing to comply with the terms, which are as follows: one member of the household, male or female, must volunteer for service and pass basic training, then take his or her place on the active duty list. The rest are then free to assume support roles in town.”
Though I wasn’t sure, that sounded like joining the guard in Salvation. From what I’d seen of the training program here, it would be more rigorous; they took defense and discipline seriously. A support role must be someone who helped the soldiers do their jobs, likely by making shoes, boots, and uniforms. So that meant if Rex or I volunteered, then the Oakses could stay here and be safe. Well. Relatively speaking. Someone as smart as the colonel must understand the severity of the threat. Her scouts were good or Stalker wouldn’t be roving with them. He had little patience for incompetence.