Diamonds in the Sky

Chapter one

Jackson City

Spring

Joel use to have a different last name, other than Callus; but no-one knew what it was. People knew he was Tommy's big brother, but no-one knew Tommy's last name either. In the post-apocalypse last names hadn't been need for decades; you rarely knew two people with the same name. Humanity had turned the corner and the local population was increasing; last names were making a come back. Joel's former ward, Ellie had jokingly called him Mr. Callus in front of a group of townies; they all thought she was serious and so that became his name.

The first few years after Joel joined the community, of what was once Jackson Wyoming, he was seen as a leader; but as time went on, his time within the community waned and he was seen more and more as a reclusive old mountain man. When he wasn't out scavenging the ruins he kept to himself and few people ever knew: if he was in town or not, when he'd be back, when he left, or where he went.

Most 'traders' went out in groups of at least four and weren't gone for very long; he was one of the exceptions. He and his chief rival, Ellie, always went farther and therefore came back with the best things. This time Joel had returned pulling a red Radio-Flyer wagon behind him with a tarp over something huge.

The city dwellers watched as he pulled the bright red wagon through town; it was the envy of every child that passed him by, but the wagon he had taken merely as a matter of conveyance for the large thing strapped to it.

An awestruck little boy pointed at him and screamed, "Santa!" having mistaken his white beard, hair, and red flannel shirt as the guise of the once loved figure.

"Damn kids," he grumbled as the mother snatched the boy so hard she could've dislocated it.

His brother had gotten the hydro-electric dam working and power restored a few years back. A community had grown in the nearby city of Jackson as word of the electricity spread. The people at the dam had established a trade relationship with the town, exchanging power for supplies.

He groaned in exasperation as he passed by the commissary, which all trade goods had to clear through by law. His passing it without declaring his cargo was a clear violation of the import laws. He glared at the local constable as he walked by him, daring him to say anything about his current transgression. "Sir… Uh… Mr. Callus…?"

"Son of a bitch…" Joel mumbled.

"Pardon?"

Joel pointed a weather worn hand to a large building, "This is for the recreational center- it's not for sale. It's for everyone in the community- a donation."

"Oh wow. That's… really… nice of you…" The man sounded shocked and Joel knew the man thought very little of him, seeing him as a parasitic vagabond. The dear constable never had to travel through the ruins and therefore didn't truly understand the dangers involved and thus the traders desire for monetary compensation for their labors. Joel rolled his eyes as he considered 'constables' little better than the 'hunters' that preyed on travelers.

Traders were required to 'sell' all of their findings to the commissary so that everyone had a chance to bid on the items that were brought in. Everything went up for auction so that everyone, rich and poor, had a chance to bid on everything. The traders got sixty-five percent of the taken down, but also had to bid on anything they wanted to keep for themselves. The one exception was weaponry and survival gear which they got to keep the best of.

"A hand constable?" he asked as he got to the steps of the huge old bank which served as their recreational center. They had dances there, put on plays, held poker night, bingo, and other activities.

He helped Joel lift the heavy wagon up the steps and into the bank. He moved it to the back wall near the piano and stage which had been added; all evidence of the building having been a bank had been removed, other than the vault. Joel heard the footsteps on the marble floor, as well as the voices that came with them; he saw that close to a hundred people had followed them in.

Joel unwrapped the object, which appeared to be a piece of antique furniture and they both moved it off the wagon. Joel opened the cabinet top and assembled the device. All of the old people knew what it was but kept silent. He stuck a handle in the side and cranked it for a minute before he moved the needle onto the record and classical music poured out.

The towns people had heard music and had electricity provided through trade with his brothers dam, so music was nothing new. Joel spoke loudly which echoed in the massive room, "This here doesn't require electricity. Those nasty 'power outages' seem to always happen on Friday's at seven o'clock. Now the weekly dance can still happen." Everyone cheered. He was referring to unofficial 'embargo's' that his brother enacted periodically to remind the local people of the service he provided.

Joel continued, "I'm donating this here to the city and I done drug it thirty miles." He took his heavy pack off and put it on the wagon for emphasis, "It's late and I'm old and tired. I got a lot of other good things; does anyone mind if I turn it in tomorrow?" Half the people murmured or shook their heads.

The constable adjusted his belt, "Well I think we can let you by this once, just get over there first thing, yah hear?"

Joel eyed him suspiciously and nodded, "Sure. Thanks." He grudgingly shook the man's hand when it was extended and wheeled the rest of his burden out for the bank and down the road. He knew the lawman was following him but hoped he'd just go away.

"Mr. Callus?"

"You can call me Joel…"

"Yes, sir. Umm… if we could speak as we walk… It's about Miss Ellie…" Joel froze in mid-step and glared over his shoulder. "Oh, she's fine… Just got in two days ago actually. She came back with a big haul as well. She had a few auctions delayed until you came in again too; thought you might want to bid."

"How kind of her," he snapped, knowing that her reason was more financial than anything else. It was well-known that Ellie was very successful and quite wealthy by post apocalyptic standards.

"Well, uh sir… About Miss Ellie… She's been the cause of a lot of community unrest…"

"I didn't vote for her," he barked. Ellie was voted 'proconsul' by the people for the past five years. Tommy was the leader and owner of the Dam complex and Mayor Williams ran the city and they both had equal political weight. Whenever they disagreed on a major decision. which was all the time, the Proconsul spoke for the people of the communities and broke the tie.

"Neither did I…"

"We finally agree on something…"

"Well, sir… Miss Ellie is becoming the source of a lot of altercations…"

"What? That don't sound like her. she take to drinking?"

"Oh, no sir. She isn't actually involved in the disputes, she's the reason for them."

"What?" Joel stopped in his tracks. "That's sounds like your problem Sheriff. What are you getting at?"

"Well, as you know, there are twice as many men here as women…"

"So, you're saying they are fighting over her?" He nodded. "Well that doesn't sound like it's her fault and it sure as hell isn't mine."

"Well, it kind of is. She's made it well-known that she is spoken for."

"Good for her, I hadn't heard. Who's the lucky guy?"

"Well, you are."

"Excuse me?" he said in exasperation.

"She told them you'd staked a claim?"

Joel back pedaled, "My stake hadn't gone anywhere near that girls claim, an it aint going to! She probably told them all that to get rid of them."

"That's what I thought as well. I was hoping you could talk to her about it. I think it's effecting your female prospects as well…"

He laughed, "What prospects?"

"Exactly. She's- well the other women are- well they're scared of her…"

Joel grinned from ear to ear, "Me too. Sounds like I owe her my thanks…"

"This is serious. I got more prisoners than I've got shackles."

"I'll try to find you some on my next run," he huffed as he turned to leave.

"That's not what I mean. Could you please talk to her?"

"It sounds like asking her to leave me out of it will make your problem worse, not better."

"In the short-term, yes."

"You're hoping she'll pair up?"

"The thought had occurred to me."

"Why should I help you? Hell, why am I even speaking to you. You've never taken my side on anything. Ever. You treat me like a damn criminal. What are you going to do for me?"

He held out a fifth of whiskey. Joel shrugged, "It's a start. Next time I need you on my side are you going to back me up?"

The other man nodded slowly, "Within reason. I can't have you murdering someone or anything, but I'll owe you a favor. Just do your best to sort her out."

"Will do. Goodnight sheriff."

"Mr. Callus…" he tipped his hat.

As they both walked away they muttered at the same time, "'I wish he'd stop calling me that.'"

Joel proceeded up to his boarding house, which was an old motel run by a widow named Bonnie. She had ten rooms: nine she rented, and she lived in the last room herself. She stepped out of the old office, which she had converted to a kitchen and dinning room, holding a plate of biscuits and his room key.

"Hey there Joel! I got your water heater going. Here are some biscuits and honey to get you started."

"Honey?"

"Yeah, Ellie found a case and brought us both a bottle. You know honey never ever spoils? They found some in a Pharaoh's tomb that was still good."

"No, didn't know that." She opened his door for him and put the food on a table.

"I mended your clothes as always and put them away. You go shower up and I'll make you something proper; you look like you lost twenty pounds!"

"Thanks, I won't be long." She smiled at him kindly; suddenly he felt awkward realizing that she had always be very friendly to him, even before her husband died, and he remembered the sheriffs warning about his female suitors.

She stuffed him to the gills that night, as well as in the morning. He headed to the commissary and dropped off his wares and picked up some items he had 'won' including an unopened deck of cards and a framing hammer; it was all metal, light, a tool, and a weapon.

He spent the day walking around town, went to the dam to see Tommy, got a hair cut, and his boots resoled. He didn't see Ellie, but wasn't looking for her either. He was already regretting his deal with the sheriff; every woman he passed seemed to stare at him.

"Can't say I blame them brother," Tommy said as he walked with him. "You're old and ugly as all hell, but you are rich."

"Rich?!" he laughed.

"Hell yeah. Look around you. Just what you're carrying in weapons now is worth what whole families here have. I don't know brother, we use to have a ton of room and stuff stacked to the rafters, now we have people coming out our ears."

"That's a good problem…"

"Yeah, but still a problem. People are going stir crazy. We are forming road crews and lumber gangs just to give people stuff to do. Reminds me of painting rocks in the army."

Joel laughed, "Yeah, sheriff was telling me the jail is full just cause of Ellie."

He laughed, "Yeah and I think a couple of those fellas are actually single. You seen her lately?" He shook his head. "That girl of yours is a heart breaker."

"She aint no girl of mine," he barked.

"You damn well know what I mean. I think she's sniffing around again, she came asking about you. About things you liked before, things you needed or wanted…"

"Great. Thanks for the warning."

"Anytime." He slowly stopped walking and whispered, "Just between us; I think something happened to her Joel."

He stopped in his tracks, "What are you talking about?"

"She's acting really weird is all. She made out a will and everything; had the mayor and I sign it."

"A will?"

"Yeah. She seems… distant. Just go easy on her okay; something is eating at her."

"You know how delicate I am!"

His brother roared with laughter, "Delicate! There's a word you aint ever been called. Here I was thinking I'd called you everything possible."

Friday night Joel was forced to endure what he could only describe as a coronation of the Victrola record player. His brother had schooled him on playing politics, so he grudgingly went along with it. The mayor honored his contribution to the community; means of entertainment were hard to come by and everyone was made aware that Joel drug the thing thirty miles up hill- both ways.

Then the usual Friday night cook out and dance took place; Joel saw Ellie in the crowd several times, but managed to avoid eye contact. He was roped into several dances before he was able to escape and slip out the door and into the courtyard.

"Hey Joel…" he heard from around the corner. He knew it was Ellie, but knew that he couldn't get away either.

He walked around the hedge and saw her sitting on a bench with her back to him. "Hey… you mind?" he asked pointing to the bench.

"You know I don't."

He saw that she was wearing a green dress that matched her eyes; it was made from a light weight material made more for summer than spring time in the mountains. He noticed she was wearing make up, "Wow, make up. Haven't seen that in a coon's age. You look good El…"

She stood up and spun in a circle as if putting on a show, "Good?! You were married right? I have a gun Joel…" she patted her purse.

"You look right pretty…"

"That's better. What about the profile?" she arched her back in a ridiculous pose, obviously poking fun at old magazines and billboards. She had grown up after the fall of man and had no memory of the old world.

"You filled out quite nice. You've got nice flanks too."

"Flanks?! WOW, now I know why you were divorced. I brought back a ton of make-up, bras, lingerie, bikinis-"

"Why the hell'd you do that? Ain't no use in any of that!"

"Really Joel? You see all the goofy grins in there? Nine months from now we will have a plethora of new tax payers!"

"Plethora?"

"It means-"

"I know what it means!" he snapped, his fists balled up in anger. She held up her hands defensively and moved a step back. "What?! I'd never hurt you!"

"I know that Joel. You are just scary when you're angry."

"I'm not," he started to snap before his voice became gentle, "angry. Just tired."

"I bet; lugging that thing all the way here. Even with the little wagon. I'm going to bid high on that; thought about giving it to the orphanage."

"Didn't think of that," he said shamefully.

She shrugged, "You can always say it's a charity auction, with the take down going to the kids too."

He nodded, "Good idea. It was a real tough winter."

"Yeah it was. You weren't here though- right?"

"No," he said slowly. "Haven't felt right here in a long time. Thought about moving on… Stayed in huge cabin in the mountains I found. Stocked it up all year and spent some time alone."

"Been doing that too; making caches when I can't carry everything back. I have some emergency places set up; in case I get hurt."

He nodded, "Me too."

"Maybe we should share locations- in case you get hurt and are close to one of mine. Or, just so one of us doesn't loot the others caches by mistake; we trust each other, no sense in robbing each other out of ignorance."

"Yeah… That's a good idea Ellie."

She spoke with great caution, "We haven't spoken this much in the last four years." He nodded sadly. "I'm sorry about what happened Joel. I should've listened to you."

He nodded, "No helping the past now."

"Yeah." There was a lasting silence, "You mind walking me home? There's something I want you to see."

"Sure."

They silently walked slowly through the streets, which were sporadically lit, until they came to her huge three-story house. He thought someone was breaking in when he saw men on the porch until she started yelling at them, "Yall get! Do you see a wreath on my gate?!"

They all nodded.

"What the-" she walked around the fence and grabbed a wreath off of it, which was a sign that there was an unwed woman seeking a relationship within. "Very funny! Which one of you did it?" They all shifted their feet, "Come on who did it?"

A shy blond boy, who couldn't be older than sixteen, raised his hand.

"Okay the rest of you, clear on out! Mr. Mitchell you ought to be ashamed of yourself. Get home before I go and tell your wife." The blond boy tried to file out and she grabbed him by the ear, "You- wait." She waited for the others to get out of earshot before she laughed melodiously, "That was pretty damn funny kid. Good thinking too. You got a clean STD card?"

He nodded eagerly, "Didn't have the bad Mumps either." Mumps often left men sterile.

"Show me your teeth," she pulled at his lips as if inspecting live stock and Joel couldn't help but laugh. "You can come back; two hours 'til sundown is the best time. Just don't be creeping around on my porch once the street lights come on; you might get shot. Now- get!" she shooed him like a small animal.

She unlocked her door and took a lighter out and wandered around until she found the light cord on her ceiling fan. "Sorry, the switch doesn't work…"

"It's probably for the light socket near the door."

"Well it doesn't work either."

"Plug a lamp in, leave it on, then flip the switch on and off. The switch turns power to the wall socket on and off."

"No way!" she laughed again and he realized it sounded different from what he remembered, it wasn't childlike anymore. She did as he asked and plugged a lamp in and it worked. "Thanks, I feel like an idiot."

She led him to her basement and showed him how to disarm several traps she had set.

"How were you able to get this place- it just being you?"

"Well I got it years and years ago. Started living in it when it was off the power grid; when no one wanted to live here. I petitioned to buy it in exchange for paying for this area to be connected to the grid. New people see me living in a huge house alone and hate me because they don't know I'm the reason they have power."

She finally opened a heavy metal door with an eye slat in it. She turned the lights on and he was momentarily stunned. The basement was full of… of… stuff. All kinds of things: Books, weapons, food, clothes, medical supplies, ammo crates, tools, bicycles, two dirt bikes, he even saw a Browning .50cal machine gun.

"You've done well for yourself… What's the tape for?" he pointed to red and green lines of duct tape on the ground.

"Well, everything on the far side of the red tape was bought for resale. I buy stuff like snow shovels for cheap in the summer and resell them come winter. The stuff in the middle is mine to sell or keep. The pile on the far side of the green line… I'd like to offer to you Joel."

He took a step back out of reflex, "Offer…?" he stepped forward and looked at it. There was a high-end crossbow, aluminum baseball bat, numerous guns, a sword, a gold ingot, cologne, cases of booze, jars of seeds, tools, medical equipment, medicine, fishing poles, tanks of different gases, and collection of country music records.

"Yeah, an offer… as a Mahr- a dowry."

"Dowry- I know what it means," he snapped. "Why the hell would you even need one anyway?"

She shuffled her feet nervously and blushed, "To make up for my short comings."

"You know you don't have none of them…"

"You told me last time that: I hadn't thought it though, I wasn't old enough, and that I didn't know what I was doing. Well, I'm twenty-two now, I know what I'm doing, and this shows I'm serious."

He turned and looked at the pile, "Ellie, it's not that I'm not flattered…"

"I have something else I've saved for you…" she said softly from behind him.

Without turning around, he sighed in anger and frustration, "Put your damn clothes on…"

She giggled girlishly, "Not that. Last time I tried the direct approach you didn't speak to me for four years. I guess I did come on a little strong…"

He turned cautiously, "Strong," he laughed. "That's one word for it…"

She handed him two small bundles, "We missed a couple of Christmas's."

He grinned boyishly, "I have a couple of things for you too," and he handed her two presents from his jacket pocket.

He got her a delicate gold necklace with the letter E and a pair of bright red ear muffs. He had unwrapped one and was holding what he had first mistaken for a brick. "I can't take this…" he said with a shaking voice. "This is worth a king's ransom to some people…" He looked hard at the vacuüm sealed package labeled Folgers.

"You're worth it. Consider it payment for dragging me cross-country; you never got paid of escorting me from Boston. I found it in a fridge that was laying on the floor, sort of like a chest. It was full of stuff. I think since it was laying down no one bothered to look in it for years. I think they were using it to seal it from the bugs and rats."

"Smart. I'm going to make you drink half though." He unwrapped the other and saw a silver watch. "Ellie, I…" he rubbed his broken one protectively. It had been a birthday gift from his daughter; she gave it to him the night she died.

She took it out of the box, "You have two wrists silly. I just figured you might want to know what time it was. It has Eco something- it doesn't need batteries!" She buckled it to his other wrist.

There was a lasting silence until she finally whispered, "I've started having really bad headaches Joel. I can't see or move without vomiting. It lasts for days sometimes…"

"Sounds like Migraines."

"Yeah, but I don't think it's that. I think it's the Cordyceps Fungus Joel. I think my condition is progressing."

"What?"

"I… I think I'm turning into a clicker."

It appeared like he was going to laugh until he saw how pale she was, "Naw, that can't happen El."

"Can't it? We know it's alive, or it wouldn't be on the scanners… The timing is right. It takes an infected five to ten years right, before their head cracks open?" He shrugged. She took his hand and placed it on the back of her skull where he felt an uneven ridge at the back of her skull. "That's my lambdoid suture on my skull; it's growing… expanding…"

"The doctors here-"

She laughed in exasperation, "Doctors… perverts are more like it. I hate those guys, they finally started to leave me alone." She paused for a long moment, "I… I'm scared Joel. I know I'm right- okay. Please believe me!" she pleaded desperately.

He nodded slowly. "Okay Ellie. I believe you."

"I feel it now- crunching, growing, expanding…" She looked at him desperately, "Joel it hurts so much. Would you do me a favor? Will you please hold me until I go to sleep." He rolled his eyes before he could stop himself. "I swear Joel- I'll be good. Please, I just need someone to hold me."

He looked at her and saw things he had never seen in her eyes: hopelessness, fear, desperation… She had always been the eternal optimist. He nodded, "Of course."

Despite having a luxurious looking king sized bed, Ellie slept in a sleeping bag she laid out in front of the bedroom door. She used the same tactic on the road; it was one of the things Joel taught her. They unzipped two bags and joined them to make one big bag, as they did during harsh weather on their cross-country journey.

Joel hardly ever slept anymore and he lay there in the dark, he listened to a faint crunching sound. He realized it was coming from her skull as she started making mewing noises and rubbing her head in her sleep. He stared at the back of her head and wondered if she was right. What if her head split open and she became a clicker, or even worse, what if her head split open like that and her mental faculties remained intact?

He slowly rubbed her head in the dark and she whispered immediately, "Joel?" and he knew that she was still asleep.

"It's okay baby girl. Shhh… It's just a bad dream…" She settled back down and he had a sickening feeling at the prospect of losing her too. He was use to loss, but this was different. She was different.

Joel eventually slipped off to sleep as well and he snapped awake at dawn to the sound of a colossal BOOM that rattled the windows. He saw the woman's auburn ponytail as she jerked up, "Tess! Get the gear. We got to quit this place." He scrambled free of the sleeping bags and ran across the room and flung open the double doors that led to a second story patio. He started scanning the sky in all directions.

"Joel? What is it?"

He glanced over his shoulder and saw his error. Tess was long dead. Ellie was kind enough to not correct him; he had been lost in his dreams. He pointed towards the dawn sky, "There!"

"Whoah! A shooting star! It made that noise?"

"Yeah, the sonic boom. You got binoculars?"

"Yeah, hold on…" She ran back in and returned with field glasses and a high-powered scope. As they stared at the object something odd happened, it appeared to sprout something.

"Umm… Joel? Why did the meteor just turn into a flower?"

"It's not a flower," he shoved the binoculars into her hand. "They're parachutes."

"Whoah! Cool! So it was a plane?"

"No," he said flatly. "It a space capsule. It just came through reëntry. Grab your gear. We're going after it."

They hustled and gathered some things together. His place was too far, so he grabbed some of her gear.

"So you think spacemen are in there?!" she asked excitedly.

"What? No. Aint nothing to eat up there. They would've died, or evacuated decades ago."

"So, we are just going to see it?"

He glared at her as they mounted two of her horses, "No. There's no telling what kind of tech is in there. Hell, if the thing is old enough and was in a vacuüm the condensers might still be good."

"The 'who's and what's now'?"

"Condensers. Little electronic gizmos on radios and such. Condensers go bad if exposed to oxygen too long. They're why none of the really old tech works."

"Oh. But there could be other stuff too? Food, weapons, medicine?"

"I suppose. If was an old escape capsule, it's possible that there are emergency rations and things on board. Let's just get there and see." He spurred the horse until it was moving at as fast clip.

The capsule was starting to get low in the sky. "Wow, they stay up there a long time."

"Yeah, takes like twenty minutes for them to fall that far."

"What if someone else beats us there?"

"Thing'll be so hot that they wouldn't be able to touch it for hours."

"…and… what if someone else beats us there?"

"We do what we do best."

"Awesome. We'll scowl and tell bad jokes."

"Come on."

"Wouldn't miss it."

***I have a propensity to write long stories (80-100k) and usually have several going at the same time, so I don't get bored. All input is welcome. The more a story is reviewed or favorited the more I know you like it and want more. If something isn't well received, I'll move on and chalk it up to bad writing.