Free Freda: Volume III in the New Eden series by Peter Dudley

amid the trees. Beyond the village lies the lake, an ashen mirror reflecting the sullen clouds that clog the sky. I can see the southern shore and not much more; the curve of the mountainside blocks the rest of the valley from view. If I were just a few miles farther north, I might be able to see Darius’ boats. But I’m glad I can’t.
    Slowly I rise, my thighs and knees burning with agony. When I move, the little boy hops off the rock he’s sitting on, and he grins at me, erect and apparently ready to walk another fifteen miles.
    He asks me, “Has it been two minutes?”
    “I think it has,” I reply. “It is time to go, now.”
    I look once more at the grim eastern peaks and think about what the Book of Laws says about them. Venture not beyond the eastern range, for the Radiation in the East will last ten thousand years, and ten thousand more. Destroy all creatures emerging from those hills or they will Contaminate the people and destroy Southshaw.
    “Do you think Reverend Timothy stood here?”
    The little boy stands beside me, his hands on his hips, gazing over the valley. It’s not the big-eyed boy with the lisp who seemed so rapt by the story of Timothy last night. This one sat in the back, listening quietly.
    “Perhaps,” I reply. “How do you think he felt when he saw this valley?”
    The boy frowns and contemplates. “I think he was probably happy,” he says at last. “They were starving, and tired. God led them to their new home.” Then he looks up at me. “Will God lead us to a new home?”
    I pause, unsure why I’m surprised at the question, and I find myself searching my heart for the answer.
    Dane appears next to the child, and he smiles at me. “Of course He will,” Dane says, then playfully slaps his gloved hand on they boy’s back. “Come on. It’s time to get going. Can you help me get the others moving?”
    I’m about to answer when I realize he was addressing the boy, not me. They hustle off toward the others, some of whom appear to have fallen asleep in the few minutes we’ve been here.
    How did Timothy feel that day? Did he know he’d reached his destination? Will I know when we reach ours? How will I feel when—if—we ever do?
    I heft my pack onto my shoulders and allow myself one final glance. The land is beautiful and majestic, but cold and distant. The scars of war persevere in places, like along the shore away east, where the rubble of a disassembled city stains the snow. The Founders took the city apart, bit by bit, and disposed of it; still, they left some as a reminder of the sins of our ancestors. Gregory lived near there, as did many of the Scouts who prowled the eastern ridges to keep that eastern border clean. Closer to us, a long, straight gash mars the forest where the Runway lies. I have never learned what the Runway was for. We don’t go there.
    The others stir and gather up their sacks as they stand and stretch and groan.
    How will we recognize our new home? Will it be beautiful? Lush? Will it have a lake, or a river, or an ocean? How interesting it would be to see an ocean. Will there be buildings from before the War? Will we encounter technology? Could other people, like the Tawtrukkers and the Subterrans, exist out there in the unknown, waiting to be discovered?
    “Come on, dreamyhead,” Dane says as he grasps my hand. “We have to move. Where did you go, anyway?”
    “What?” I let him guide me to the head of our wilting line, ignoring the aches that assault me with every step. “I’ve been right here.”
    “No, I mean in your thoughts. You were clearly off somewhere else.”
    I like that he was watching me. I feel warm from his attention, but I don’t want to sound too sentimental right now. I need to look strong. I need to be strong. “I was just thinking about... all those people who stayed behind.”
    Dane nods, suddenly grim. “Me, too,” he says. “It still makes me mad. I wish they’d come with us.”
    I squeeze his hand and walk