Chapter 9: The Totem

NOTE: I try not to add these notes at the beginning of chapters, but since it has been a while since I posted, I'll let my readers know that I have just gotten very busy lately. After posting almost weekly for about 2 years straight, I found myself running on fumes in the writing department. Given my rare free time these days with planning my wedding, being there for family, work, etc, I found writing becoming more of a chore than anything, which is certainly not what I ever want to happen, especially with a story like this that covers themes so important to me. Anyway, it may be worth skimming the previous chapter or two before reading this one since it has been a while, but to give give you the shortest possible refresher: Paul was tasked to investigate a mysterious totem with some of his men and Lt. Doyle and given a day to prepare after having a chat with Mr. Graham about what may or may not be coming for New Canaan soon. Hope ya'll enjoy :)

The Next Day

For whatever reason, my internal alarm didn't wake me up the next morning. Instead, me and my wife both awoke to Hannah and Joseph staring at me. Seeing my eyes open, the first thing I heard after seeing the freckled little face of my youngest daughter was;

"Are you going to make us breakfast today?"

I usually did that on Fridays before leaving for my shift. Although the kids appreciated it, they usually preferred it when their mother made breakfast. Either way, seeing how she woke me up when it was usually me who awoke the kids, my eyes darted to the clock on the far wall and I saw it was only ten minutes past five. Losing ten minutes, my wife stirred awake and rose out of bed as Joseph moaned how hungry he was while I sprung from the covers and started getting my black cargo pants on. The kids left the room and Dani did too while the kids finished getting ready for school. Michelle was heard getting ready for the day in the other room and knowing I was usually at the morning muster formation 15 minutes before 6, I got ready much quicker than I normally did before remembering that today wasn't normal. Memories from yesterday came back and I only slowed my pace when I remembered that Nathan and Ramos were going to be meeting me at my home. I wasn't quite sure when to expect their knock at the door, but I figured it would be around 6 since Nathan in particular was usually one to let a day of prep like this mean a day off. I was mistaken though, because I was in the middle of a light breakfast and the clock on the wall showed 5:32 when there was a knock at the door.

Without excusing himself, Joseph sprung up saying he would get it, and dashed across the dim little living room to open the door. Immediately we heard "Hey kiddo! Long time no see!" from the blackened doorway almost in unison from the voices of Nathan and Ramos. Joseph retreated from the doorway with his eyes fixed on them as they both entered to my surprise with large rifles and shotguns on their shoulders. Joseph was already asking them if he could hold one of the guns and Nathan said, "Ask your pop, kiddo" prompting me and Dani to immediately say, "No."

Nathan and Ramos were greeted by me and Dani. Dani telling them to make themselves comfortable while I asked them why they were armed to the teeth. They made themselves comfortable on the couch by the front door, both fighting the urge to put their feet up on the little wooden coffee table and Nathan said he figured the first thing he thought I would want to do is get some sights focused at the armory on this side of town.

Dani looked at me and I told them how I knew the real reason they showed up with such weaponry was because they wanted to feel like bigshots and impress my 7-year-old boy. To which, the two guardsmen hung their heads and Joseph ignored. I was almost done with breakfast anyway and I felt Dani's eyes telling me to get them out of here as soon as possible before snapping at Joseph not to touch the barrel of Nathan's shotgun sitting across his lap. I excused myself from the table and began creating a mental list of what I would have to do today while I heard the soft sounds of conversation between the guardsmen and my family as I headed back to my bedroom to fetch my vest and armaments. We were still good on time, and the clock in my room showed it was 5:36. There I zipped up my vest, and interrupted a conversation between Ramos and Michelle about mission, telling both he and Ramos to "Get out" while I said goodbye to my family. The men complied, I embraced my wife, then, Michelle, then Hannah, and pulled Joseph away from the window who was still staring at the guardsmen's weaponry to embrace him.

Such was a typical morning, and the longer farewells would wait until tomorrow morning. The tears and hugs were more time-consuming on the days I left into the wastes. I don't think the children pieced together the fact that I was leaving on another expedition in the following morning, despite the unusualness of my guards showing up to the door like they did. Still, it was always really hard to tell them where I was going, which was why it was always best to save the farewells for the moment before departure and I left that morning wondering if the kids didn't at least suspect something unusual coming the next morning. In any event, I left Dani to get the kids to their schoolhouses at the proper time and was out the door in the morning cold telling the men to follow with a head gesture alone before the clock turned to 5:40.

Nathan and Ramos talked amongst themselves, and occasionally at me as we walked the streets of town towards the guard barracks on the other end. The streets were relatively empty save for the few people who had to get to the farms on the north end as early as the day shift guards. I greeted the few we passed on behalf of us three since Nathan and Ramos were still talking softly and excitedly about the expedition they were accompanying me on. William Ramos, the newest of the guards in my detachment was asking Nathan and myself about all that we were going to do, asking about what the objective was, what his role on the team was, how far out we were going, etc. I stayed quiet, finding it all amusing as Nathan played the bigshot and keeping the fact that he'd only gone on two other expeditions to myself.

To my surprise, it wasn't until we reached the little courtyard before the guard barracks and saw the day shift muster formation that Nathan and Ramos both asked;

"Wait, what are we doing here at muster? I thought we were going to get sights at the west end armory?"

Looking upon the seven assembled detachments before the two-story prewar office condo that was Ramos and Nathan's home, I reminded them that it was they who said the armory was the first stop for expedition prep. As they remembered it was me who was in charge and it was me who had other responsibilities, I approached the gaggle of lieutenants and the Constable standing before the formation of the 7 15-man detachments. Joining the group of officers, the detachments were set at ease and there was low conversation filling the air around the formations. I was greeted, and before I could say much else, the Constable's watch beeped and Doyle said he and I would meet up after dismissal. Nathan and Ramos stood off to the side, holding their unnecessary weapons proudly like the special toughguys they still believed themselves to be, and I approached John standing at the head of my detachment in my place where he ought to have been.

John greeted me and I did him likewise as I turned to the men behind him, going over the faces and removing my list of who was assigned what for this day and while I would be gone.

Contrary to what may have been suggested thus far, I was in charge of more guardsmen than just John Langdon, Carl Northrup, William Ramos, and Nathan. The number of men in my guard detachment at this time was actually 8. I used to be the commander of 14, with me as the 15th up until last month when we lost, Gavin Salazar, Roy Sutton, Dennis Gates, Diego Marquez, Rowan Tomlinson, and of course, Evan Buller.

At this point, my detachment had yet to be replenished, and so my detachment sat depleted compared to the other 7 of the day shift with only John, Ramos, Carl, Nathan, Chance Rhynes, Dean Parrish, Logan Barnett, and Oscar Savitt, with me as their commander.

It should be said that the previously unmentioned names under my command are not due to any prejudice. I only speak of John, Carl, Ramos, and Nathan so frequently because I have attached myself to John and his squad for the longest. The men I talk about most frequently are the ones I have been with and been most familiar with in recent months. That isn't to say I neglect my other men. In fact, I communicate with everyone every morning and even ensure they have everything they need when we aren't on duty. From time to time, I often change things up and accompany one of my other squads for a period of time, which is part of the reason that I was not with John and my regular men at the time of the expedition where Salazar's squad was lost as well as Evan Buller.

As I went down my meager detachment's ranks, greeting and inspecting the men one by one, I caught myself up with the life events of all of them. I took reports, laughed at the incidents described by those not in my regular group, and was able to spend much more time with them in this accountability routine than the other commanders of the fuller detachments beside us. Part of me enjoyed having a smaller detachment, and I would have enjoyed it more if it wasn't due to such an unfortunate reason, but I promised Mr. Rhynes' squad that I would spend some more time with them after my return, and soon enough the formation's attention was called to the Constable. I handed John my list of duties, and with my other men already aware of their stations for the day, we all looked to the Constable in his casual guardsman uniform. As was usual, the Constable said to all of us;

"You all know where to find me if anything urgent arises! So, I expect you to keep us safe with a smile on your face! Have a great day lads!"

It became evident that we missed the part where any new orders were distributed, like the one the Constable said yesterday that he would announce regarding ears to the ground in the market. Still, it was hard to think of anything foreboding or worrisome when the Constable's usual dismissal was spoken. One of the officers shouted something to the Constable that I was too far to hear, but it made the giant man laugh before he gestured for everyone assembled to depart. I turned around, and shook John's hand, leaving him in charge as I went towards Nathan and Ramos thinking about when I would get to do interviews with young men of the community for duties in the guard. The other detachments all went their separate ways, some squads heading back into the barracks to get the heavy antimaterial rifles for tower duties, or submachineguns for farm patrols or gate duty.

Standing with Ramos and Nathan, I remember waiting for Doyle to finish up with his men and thinking about those interviews to replenish my detachment in the near future. I've seen certain members of the community tremble when they came near the gates and saw their protectors atop the towers with large rifles or standing beside the gates in full battle apparel and machineguns with large drums of ammunition. I wondered how many of the community's more innocent people knew that those men with big guns and black caps with white crosses on them went to their duties every morning under orders from their commander to "Keep us safe with a smile on your face." How our tribal, traveler, trader, and wasteland visitors viewed the "behind the scenes" of New Canaan's guard was of equal mystery.

In the end, it wasn't too long before the small plaza/old world parking lot in front of the barracks became sparse in people and Doyle approached us with the men he selected for the totem expedition. Since Doyle was leading this expedition while me and my men were just backup, I saw him approach me with an additional two hands than normal. Doyle stepped up and we shook hands as his men, Hudson, Preston Lockwood, and Duncan Schmitt exchanged pleasantries with Nathan and Ramos. The conversation was brief, and Doyle and I decided it was best to tackle our own prep lists, and meet up for lunch.

Even though a whole day of prepping for an expedition was hardly necessary and relatively uncommon, it was appreciated, and Doyle and I took our groups separate ways, agreeing to meet up at the Millscreek smoker on the north end when we were done before ending our prep with lunch there. Immediately, I took Nathan and Ramos into the barracks and it was there that Nathan began complaining about how it was I who should have met them in the barracks since they lived there. I reminded him how they both agreed to meet me at my home. More complaints came out of Nathan's mouth only to be ignored when we stepped up to the armory on the ground level and returned the shotguns they took out this morning. Reminding them that this was a scouting expedition, we kept the rifles and only withdrew one Thompson .45 submachinegun for myself and the appropriate ammunition before leaving and heading towards the place that the two were hoping would be the first stop.

On the other end of town, only a few streets north of my home on the west end, we stepped into the guard's armory there and obtained the sights for the weapons needed. It might seem inconvenient for weapons to be stored on one end of town while attachments and the like are stored on the other, but the west end armory was used for scouting preparations, had a small indoor sighting range, and a reserve arsenal in case something terrible happened to the main armory in the guard barracks. In the small metal building, Lenny Graff greeted us, and gave us what we needed, asking us this and that, and helping us pass the time while we fit the sights to the rifles and spent the next hour testing shots and ensuring that the sights were aligned properly. All this was made longer by the conversation with Lenny and the occasional group of other guardsmen who entered and began chatting about this and that.

It would take too long to cover everything that happened, everyone I spoke to, what was said, etc. To keep it short, I took Nathan and Ramos all across town, Ramos more excited than anything while Nathan remained bored at all the seemingly unnecessary steps involved in gearing up for a mission. After getting the sights requisition from the west end scouts armory, we headed to the Temple Granary east of the Temple where we got our field rations, stopped by the Woodscross outfitter on the north end for outdoor supplies, and then went to the south side gate to retrieve the supplies we sent a runner fetch from Dr. Franklin's clinic. We only sent one of the idle guards to fetch this because we got held up with a requisition problem at the outfitter. There was more, but Doyle was doing the bulk of the procedural work, spending his time running around town letting this Elder know this, and finding the Constable to tell him how this Elder said that and that said this. I'd been in his shoes and there was a lot of logistics that went into even simple runs out into the wastes, with the most important details being the establishment of contingencies. I wasn't aware on the day of prep, but while we were walking out to the site of investigation the next day, I asked Doyle about it and the basics were this:

Doyle and I's team were to set out in the morning, investigate the alleged site of the totem within the timeframe of a day and a half. We were to follow any potential trails for a maximum of 10 miles beyond the totem sight and to send word back to the guard if more time was needed or if further range was needed in order to investigate thoroughly enough for a satisfactory report. Heading back to report was largely my group's role. The final detail said that if we weren't back, or there was no word from us either by radio or messenger by Sunday, a force of two detachments would be sent to retrieve us. All of this information had to be made known and sometimes signed off on by many members of the Temple as well as Guard so that the whole community's leadership would know what we were doing and where to find us if trouble arose.

With all the painful work done by Doyle and his men, and when he was finally done with all the errands me and my boys completed in the morning, it was just before 11 and our two groups headed to the Millscreek place for lunch. That place fed the farmers and ranchers on the north end beyond the gates and was just about the best place to get a seasoned brahmin steak in probably all of the Utah wilderness.

There was not much more to say about the day rest of the day or the lunch with Doyle and his scouts. I was somewhat surprised that Doyle was bringing Mr. Schmitt, Mr. Lockwood, and Hudson. This is only surprising because Hudson and Ray (The two men Doyle left behind with Mr. Mathers and I the night Joshua returned) were considered inseparable. This fact was mentioned by Hudson throughout the whole lunch and Doyle was evidently tired of hearing about how much Hudson missed and would miss his friend Ray.

When all was over, the plan was set, and Doyle gave me the rundown as he planned to have his guys meet him at his place in the morning at the usual set-out time of 0500. Doyle said he would swing by my place to grab me since he lived only a few streets up from me and near the west end armory. So, I told my men to come over to my place again in the morning so we could all head out together, and the group dispersed.

Really it was just me who left. Nathan and Ramos hung around with Doyle's men for a while longer, discussing matters only relevant to those who lived in the "single men's home" or guard barracks while Doyle went towards the Temple on the pretext of some one last thing he had to do.

Alone in the streets, I headed home. The town wasn't too busy since everyone was at work or attending to various household duties this time of day. The Millscreek place was definitely packed for lunch as all the fieldhands of the north end took their lunches just before our arrival. So, it was a little past 1pm when I found myself walking the dusty streets back home, the submachinegun slung across my back not steering off any of the hellos or good days from the occasional passersby and elderlies occupying their porches this time of day. For the most part, I was left alone with my thoughts, which remained more focused on my excitement for the upcoming expedition. Despite what happened to me over a month and a half ago, I loved expeditions, even ones as short as this one was projected to be. Like most New Canaanites under the age of 50, I get antsy when I'm around town too long. Where my other brothers and sisters satisfy that urge by signing up for a mission if they don't have families, us guardsmen always had expeditions, scouts, and mission escorts to go on. Either way, I was still free for the rest of the day and knew my wife should be home around this time. I had a mind to help her with some of her afternoon chores, errands, or even help her in the garden behind our house since I was free of any responsibility till tomorrow morning.

I would end up spending a wonderful afternoon with her until our children returned from schooling, and the whole evening with our kids turned out to be a great family one. Despite this whole day being somewhat out of the ordinary, the only thing that might have been noteworthy was along the way home.

Just as I rounded the corner of the last street before my home, I bumped into Mr. Mathers. I hadn't seen him in days and he wasn't even at the meeting between the elders and officers of the Guard I attended only yesterday. We talked for a moment there on the street, got caught up with one another about this and that, and the whole exchange was rather uneventful until I mentioned how I hadn't heard from him since that day I spent with him in the archives. Although I didn't really think about the burned man, I did remember the box I was told to get before he left for his meeting. There I thought about all those letters I read and all the events that followed before realizing it has already been over four days since that night at the Temple. Remembering those letters and his work in the archive, I recalled the last thing he said to me at the end of the talk with him and Mordecai that day. I only remembered it because somewhere in the conversation he said to me;

"Sorry I couldn't meet with you that evening after we parted ways, but you don't look burdened or troubled anymore! Suppose you were busy that night anyway so it all worked out… Still, I'm here if you ever want to talk or get anything off your chest."

That was all he and I both had to say about the night Joshua Graham officially returned to the community. It was all he had to say about the man himself or the incident at the Temple as a whole. We went on talking about other things when he said he was busy tirelessly working on the ranch shack outside of town the past couple days. He talked all about the work he and his team were doing on Judah Black's old place and it was hard to focus on what he was saying because this whole casual conversation left me wondering that original question I had for him after reading those letters: Why was he reading so much about Joshua Graham and Judah Black before the return. And: Did he know who the burned stranger was as well?

I supposed none of that mattered at the moment. Joshua Graham's arrival in New Canaan was known to everyone at this point and perhaps Mr. Mathers was just following the Bishop's orders for the whole community of not mentioning the name "Graham." It was either that, or Mr. Mathers just got busy with the work at hand. For that I couldn't blame him, for I too was very busy in the present day, if not at the very moment, I would be tomorrow, and my mind was already in the expedition game.

Perhaps I would have more time to discuss all my questions for Mr. Mathers at a later time, but despite my curiosities, the two of us were both in a hurry so the talk was a short one. The Deacon left heading to some of the elders he needed to talk to about his project, and I left going home, ready to help my wife and have a good time with my family before my departure in the morning.

The Next Morning

4:50AM had arrived and I sat on the couch, fully armed, fully equipped, and with a heavy backpack on while the kids were still fast asleep in their rooms. My wife rested her head on my shoulder, still not used to being up so early, but was only kept awake by her worry for my safety. In the darkness and stillness of the living room, I quietly assured her I would be fine or tried to steer her thoughts toward more pleasant things as we waited for the sounds of Doyle or my men outside. Another minute passed on the clock across the room and my wife lifted her head, sleepily saying, "I'll go wake the kids" as she stood and departed the living room.

There was no reason to fear anything on this short scout. From what Doyle mentioned at lunch the previous day, the totem his guys reported was only a few miles southeast off the south road to the market up in the cliffs. The thing was apparently discovered in passing and his scouts didn't have time to investigate further after the initial reporting. Since Graham's return, the community as a whole has been under a sort of lockdown. Not a lockdown in a really strict sense. People have still been allowed to go to and from the outside markets but a few missions had been delayed and other plans were postponed while word could pass to everyone about the importance of silence in regard to matters of the burned man. Once everyone in the community was made aware of his presence and residence outside the walls, and after I reported that he did believe there would be people after him, the only reason restrictions were lifted was because of the fact that there weren't any new stories about him or his survival from any outsiders. With the whole community knowing to keep his name out of mention altogether, this expedition was authorized and business was beginning to resume as normal so as to not rouse further suspicion from those outside the gates. With the slow return to normalcy after the strange few days, business would continue on, but with extra sets of ears in the market.

Beyond the narrow hallway, I could hear my wife stirring the children awake, and my wife and I knew the secret of my departure had been kept when Hannah came running into the room, throwing her arms around me as tears streamed down her face. Joseph entered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and more or less tamed by sleepiness while Hannah embraced me, begging me not to go. It had finally clicked, and I knew why Hannah was so distant these past weeks. She remembered the state I arrived in after the last expedition I went on and turned that fear into hostility or distance from me. It was all coming out now though, and I held her to my chest tightly, brushing her hair, and kissing her head as Joseph stood in the middle of the room in his PJs and yawned out;

"Stop cryin Hannah. I already Told you Dad's invincible. I bet Dad's gonna kill a hundred bandits this time…"

Joseph trailed off into other topics, looking towards the kitchen for sights of breakfast while I held Hannah to my chest, assuring her I would be just fine and I'd be back soon no problem. This went on as Dani returned following Michelle into the room.

It might have seemed cruel to tell my children 5 minutes before my departure, but it was truly better this way. I usually needed a good night's sleep and to have my head on straight to wake up early and prepare for an expedition without having to stay up till the AM consoling the girls. With Joseph already asking about breakfast when Michelle sat beside me to join her sister in tears, I knew I could have told Joseph at any time if it wasn't for the fact that he will repeat literally anything you tell him not to immediately. I could have told him last night that I was scheduled to die this morning and to keep the news to himself, but his first words would have probably been along the lines of "Are you going to die in an explosion? Explosions are cool! I bet it'll be a really big one. It would take a REALLY big explosion to kill My dad. Hey Hannah! Dad's gonna die tomorrow in an explosion! Tom's gonna be so mad that my dad is cooler than his dad!"

With Dani standing before me and my daughters beside me, crying their tears of worry into my shoulders or trying hard to keep it together, I held them and loved them the best I could in those few short moments before there was a knock at the door. The door creaked open at my whisper and I stood to my feet leaving Michelle on the couch and Hannah rushing to my wife's side. Dani brushed Hannah's hair while Michelle wiped her eyes one last time before straightening her sleeping gown in an effort to take control of her composure, and four men stepped into the room. Doyle and my guardsmen stepped into the room bedecked in their regular uniforms and vests full of equipment, each one shouldering a rifle or long gun with large backpacks on their backs. Only one of them was needlessly wearing the rarely used black balaclava, but this one had a large white cross painted on it. It was Nathan who wore the balaclava and before I could sling my machinegun over my shoulder or tell Nathan to take it off, he was already doing so at sight of my family. Doyle at the head of the group, tipped his cap to my family before addressing me,

"You ready, Paul?"

I was, and said as much, seeing Nathan, Ramos, and Mr. Schmitt beside Doyle and hearing the other two outside the house. I stepped toward the door and Hannah let out a sob from her mother's side "Don't go daddy", making me turn and see my wife's expression in the dim light saying "I'll take care of her, you just come back safe this time."

Before I could give one last assurance to my wife and two daughters still broken, I saw Joseph standing in the entryway to the kitchen with his hand in a box of Sugar Bombs as I felt the hands push me along and heard the voice of Doyle say;

"Don't worry, girls. We'll get'em home safe."

Then, I entered the cold black morning, and hearing Nathan say to Michelle, "Don't worry darlin, your pop is safe with us," instinctively making me reach back and snatch Nathan by the collar, promising that I would have no trouble jeapordizing my eternity to keep him and other guards away from my daughter. Nathan laughed, a laugh that was cut short when we entered into the street and Mr. Schmitt blew past Nathan to take the lead with Mr. Lockwood. Then, away we went.

We were mostly quiet along the way, the streetlamps continued to burn the last of their oil, and the wind whipped by, causing Nathan to dawn his painted balaclava again. He fought off the hushed jabs from Ramos and Doyle, saying that he looked like an executioner. Nathan only defended himself from this by pointing out how cold it was with the sun not even a glimmer over the east. I stayed silent, keeping exceptionally warm by the boiling of my blood at thought of Nathan's attempt to be "cute" with his remark to my eldest daughter. I figured he was joking since Nathan took enormous delight in making others uncomfortable and being his commander made me no exception. Even if he only said that to Michelle to make me uncomfortable, I didn't appreciate the reminder that my eldest daughter was at the age where she would begin relationships with boys and soon have to fend off hoards of… suitors.

I kept thinking about my daughter Michelle along the walk to the south gate and was wondering if she was already involved in any romantics with any of the community's men. Being Michelle's father, I preferred to think about literally anything else, but it was all I thought about on the way across town and a wonderful start to a day where my mind should have been elsewhere. I hadn't heard about any of Michelle's relationships other than the one with Devin Yule, but she was six when I heard about that and I hadn't heard anything about him at the dinner table in probable years. I figured I didn't know anything about my daughter's romantic life because I was her dad, and so I made a mental note to ask Dani if she knew more about that upon my return. With that, I inadvertently obtained my tangible reason for returning home safely. Strange as that sounds, it's the little goals we set for ourselves that means all the difference in our day to days, and so my eyes returned to the present only briefly until I remembered I was unfortunately in the presence of a few of Michelle's potential… suitors.

Now Doyle was married, which was why he lived just a few streets north of me as opposed to the "Single boy's home" or Guard Barracks. I heard that Mr. Lockwood was engaged to the Tomlinson girl on the east end, so, my eyes went to Nathan, William Ramos, Mr. Schmitt, and Hudson. Now it wasn't that I didn't trust or love any of the men in the guard, it was just that I felt and acted like a father to so many of them. Even though many of them came from families in town, me, the other lieutenants, and the constable himself saw them as our children on duty and off duty. I loved all who've been called to protect the community and even though there were a few who I could have seen as potential matches for my daughter, I had an unspoken rule for myself that I wouldn't allow anyone under my direct command to be romantically involved with Michelle. Despite this, there were a few moments in previous months where I believed Michelle to at least have a crush on Evan Buller. Something that was made somewhat evident by how Michelle took the news of his death on my last expedition, and how Dani said she still visits the Buller family frequently to help in their loss. I thought of my daughter's face, seeing how pretty it is and how she got so much of her looks, her eyes, her hair, and even the few freckles from her mother. Considering her grief in the days after my injured return, the fact she may have loved that young man I led to his demise made the face of Evan all the more tragic to me. No. In the end, I- if I could have saved Evan, and if he went on to marry Michelle, I would have loved him anyway. Evan, these men beside me, were my sons, and if I could get them home safe for women like my daughter, like my wife, I knew I had to do it.

The rest of my thoughts were cut short at the crashing of the gate upon the sand. The sun just began to show its first rays over the east, and the market sat nearly devoid of life beyond the gate when Doyle said, "Lockwood, lead on."

Lockwood nodded, and the seven of us proceeded south down the road, through the market, and then further down the dirt path or caravan trail.

We all remained somewhat quiet, most of us were still fairly tired from getting up earlier than our normal duties required. By around 0600, the sun was sitting half above the eastern mountains and the market was slowly getting busier based on the soft sounds carried in the wind and brief glances that showed more travelers emerging from their temporary lodgings to go about their business outside the walls.

We continued south down the path when we went up a small hill and I saw we were about halfway to the old ranch home of Judah Black when Mr. Lockwood took us straight east off the path and into the wasteland. We continued east and I briefly wished that I could have seen what was done to the ranch shack since Mr. Mathers started his project, and I thought about the conversation I had with him until the terrain took up the entirety of my focus. Doyle's man, Lockwood, took us further and further east off the path, a rocky stretch of land that slowly ascended up and up and was populated by more and more untamed vegetation.

I felt us begin to veer more and more to the southeast and the work was rough for everyone, but for me in particular since I had been on some form of light duty since my injury last month. At least the scar was gone, I thought as I trekked up more rocks and around clumps of bushes with the others. Maybe around an hour had passed since we first left the trail, and all of us removed whatever items of cold weather gear we were wearing as the sun rose more and more. It might have been a little past 7am when even Mr. Lockwood and Doyle's other scouts felt as though they had hiked a whole mountain. The seven of us congregated under a rocky and shaded outcropping atop a small ridge to guzzle some water. Hudson said something like "I hate that bit… Up and up from here…" between winded breaths. Knowing the stretch we were going was still even more uphill, me and some of the others decided to come to terms with how difficult the hike was and my men took the moment to gab with Doyle's men while I took in the view with Doyle himself.

The two of us remained quiet, being the older men of the group, we were kept busy trying to catch our breaths and remain strong in composure while we took in the view. Atop the small ridge, it looked as though we had only gone around three miles based on the distance to the south path, but we had no idea how high we had gotten based on how flat the land looked from this point to the road. I could see several tiny people going to and from New Canaan along that south road as well as one long caravan of traders heading away from the town along the same path. Just to the northwest, I could see the distant structure that was Mr. Mathers newest project. Though it was too far to get the details I wanted to see earlier, I could see many people seemingly going around the thing, around scattered items that I assumed to be construction materials. I was still very curious what the Elders decided they wanted to do with the place and I'm surprised that didn't come up in my chat with Mr. Mathers yesterday. However, I didn't think about that long because the sight just north caught my attention yet again.

It was somewhat rare for me to see sights like this. Most of my expeditions took me west or south, with the occasional one sending me north. Being most familiar with territories west and south, the lands that way were much more flat, even descending as one drew nearer to the Great Salt Lake. Atop this little ridge southeast of town however, I got to see something I'd only seen maybe one or two other times, New Canaan itself.

Sitting there in what was probably only five or so miles to the north following the road sat the outskirts of the market that was already teeming with life as the sun rose higher and higher in the early morning. The sun fell upon the market, showing all its structures like the little sister town it was to its walled big brother just north. Following the main roads till it was buried by so many shacks and structures amidst the market ground, my eyes took in the scrap walls lining the whole settlement dotted with small towers at separate intervals to keep watch over the treacherous surrounding wastes. I thought of my men as the sun got a little higher and showed what those towers were protecting just as the last of the morning mist began to clear.

Though my home perhaps didn't compare to the stories I heard of settlements like New Vegas, it was hard to not be inspired by the reconstructed repainted and ever so cared for collection of homes and places of work, built upon the ruins of outer Salt Lake City. The place was simply impressive, and the vast expanses around it made the place especially wonderful. Even from afar, it was truly hard to not be inspired, as the town of New Canaan was the only thing like it in that sea of wasteland around it. Where stories said the lights of Vegas attracted people from all over the deserts of Nevada, the steeple bearing the cross atop our temple in the heart of the town served as its own beacon for those seeking to escape the war-torn wilderness of Northern Utah.

It was too difficult to make out all the points of interest within the walls of New Canaan other than the cross of the temple towering high above everything else. Despite looking like the town was packed together from such a distance, I'd known from living there my whole life that the streets were long and winding and simply walking from the south end to the north end took at least 40 minutes; probably even upwards of 2 hours once the day started and the crowds of inhabitants began their days. Still trying to follow that south road till it was buried by the gates, walls, and then buildings within, my eyes landed on the cross one more time before I took in the wide fields beyond the north end. The fields and farms were too hard to see all the workers going about their work at the early hours, but once more my eyes took me to the lands beyond the outline of the north wall, and past the fields.

I can only describe the lands beyond the north wall as the greatest example of what was lost, especially when one sees the lively little paradise directly to the south. Beyond the north wall, the land turned almost instantly from vast brown desert beneath a baking sun to a light grey tragedy. The little hills and rising landscape didn't do anything to obstruct the nuclear-mangled cities of Salt Lake City and then Ogden beyond the rising mountains. Although the radiation had subsided enough to build New Canaan that close to Salt Lake City, the grey ashy ruins of SLC were still largely avoided by the people of New Canaan and other inhabitants of the region. It was true that many we've had to turn away took up homes in the ruins of the city itself, but those people were few, and the city leveled by nuclear war in 2077 remained a mostly lawless ground for those who had nowhere else to go. Some groups of raiders have been seen roaming the streets of the leveled grey city, but most people of the wilderness, tribal or otherwise, still believed the place to be radioactive, thus keeping the vast expanses of rubble from the north wall to the outskirts of Ogden as little more than a great hunting ground or place to scavenge. Although Ogden has its own story, one involving my community, the place was too far to discern past the rolling hills and my survey of the landscape took my eyes to that huge expanse of light blue and grey beside the ruins of SLC to the northwest far beyond what I could see.

The sun glimmered ever so faintly in the distant waters and there I thought of all the times I'd been to the shores of those poisonous waters. As beautiful as the waters were from overlooks like this, the salt in that lake was poisonous even before the war that irradiated the world, and even though the radiation has too been largely washed away with the passage of so much time, the waters of that enormous sea has come to attract more of a new poison in recent years. I began to hear the drums beating, the screams of war cries, the screams of men like my own, and then the clatter of firearms as I stared at those far away waters, but before I began to officially remember, Doyle nudged me with his elbow asking;

"Ready?"

I met his eyes, nodded, shook the thoughts out of my head, and turned to the others as Lockwood resumed the lead.

Almost 2 Hours Later

We continued to the southeast, up even more hills, and then across several long stretches of flatter ground. Walking those stretches of flat ground, New Canaan grew even smaller behind us, and soft conversations amongst the men began as everyone kept watch over the surroundings and rising hills. Through shrubbery and over rocks, the seven of us were alone in the wilderness now. With the knowledge that nobody would come for us for at least two days if we didn't check in, I asked Doyle if he had his mid-range radio tuned to the proper channel. Doyle tapped the radio as a sign of assurance, and Nathan and Hudson halted their conversation as we made our way up another series of large rocks to another ridgeline. Around 45 minutes or so past since our break before Lockwood said back to us from his position several yards ahead;

"Found the trail. Not much more now."

I think he meant that the travel up rocks was not much more. Stepping on the trail, we were surrounded by shrubbery and dry bushes, and the path Lockwood was leading us certainly seemed to level out. Though we were still going up into the mountains, I knew that climbing over such difficult terrain was behind us, and so, low conversations resumed. I passed the time talking with Doyle, talking about this and that, and later learning how this trail we were on was an old Indian footpath. Doyle's scouts used this trail often to get around the mountains of the east and southeast. It was actually because of this long-forgotten path that Mr. Lockwood discovered the totem on his last return from a scout. Though it wasn't impossible for someone else or some other tribe to have used this path, the scouts said that it wasn't likely. Both me and Doyle began to figure that this scout was to figure out which tribe was using these trails and claiming them as their own, but that changed when Mr. Lockwood shouted back;

"Whoever made it definitely wanted to speak to us."

This statement captured our attentions, but Mr. Lockwood didn't explain any further and we wondered how he could have known that when we remembered him saying how he didn't have time to investigate it on his way back. Doyle and I were too winded to catch up and interrogate him further, so we remained at the rear to internally speculate while the rest of the men continued talking to each other as if they hadn't even heard what Mr. Lockwood said.

About another hour passed along the ancient trail and despite the steadiness of the ancient trail, the gradual incline was still taking its toll as the mountains got closer and the descent to the open wastes and trails to New Canaan got further away. By this time, the sun was beating down heavily on us, and even though it was still the morning, the heat of the day intensified and the hike with all our gear made the freezing winds of the early morning a fond memory. Doyle and I still remained at the rear trying our best to appear as though age was not an issue in the presence of the young men ahead still softly talking amongst themselves. Even though Doyle was the leader of the scouts, it was evident that his part in scouting expeditions was not ordinary as the occasional glance from him and sweat pouring down his face said that he did not envy the men like Mr. Lockwood who regularly used this route into the southeastern mountains.

During a brief pause where I used my duty of surveying our perimeter as an excuse to face back north and suck in an exhausted breath of air, I could see the dot where New Canaan was and realized we weren't but 12 or so miles if I had to guess. I thought back to the fact that Doyle said the Totem was discovered close to New Canaan and before turning back to the group, said quietly to myself more than anything;

"That liar! Where is this damned totem?"

Just then, the voice from Lockwood called back from around a bend in the path;

"There it is! Right where I remembered it!"

Instantly, I snapped back and caught up with Doyle before he rounded the bend. Around a series of short bushes along the path we went and found the men wiping sweat from their faces, still talking, and sipping from their canteens while Mr. Lockwood pointed up to a strange object atop a cluster of rocks just off the path and about 50 yards up hill. Excited to see the thing, I recovered myself quicker than Doyle who joined the men and began hydrating. I saw where Mr. Lockwood was pointing and the man joined the others in their quiet casual conversing. I was just about to join them as well to regroup before we'd head up there and get a closer look at it, but for the moment, I had my eyes fixed on the distant sign despite myself.

Though it was still a little too far to truly detail, the words of Mr. Lockwood entered my ears again in an echo;

"Whoever made it definitely wanted to speak to us."

Up there on the rocky little ridge, his words indeed made sense. Sitting upon the rocks was not any ordinary tribal totem. What I saw was certainly intended for us as the object lorded over us from its rocky nook, showing a blackened cross seemingly cobbled together with desert branches with something fastened to the center.

NOTE: Hope you all enjoyed a longer chapter after my break! I still may not post on such a regular basis as I have been known for, but I appreciate your understanding. Life has gotten pretty crazy for me lately and although I never intend to stop writing stories like these, I am definitely in need of some rest and inspiration at times. I add a little piece of myself in everything I write, so it's certainly good for me to go out there, live life a bit, and have something genuine to offer to you the wonderful people who've enjoyed my works! I love you all and hope my fics continue to entertain!