Marching As to War: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel by Justin Watson Read Free Book Online

sense to you?”
    Jane said she would come.
    We went out through the front gate to a field at the eastern
side the camp. Maybe a dozen people stood, waiting. When they saw Jane coming,
they rushed forward, surrounding her, all talking at once.
    Riley and I looked at each other and shrugged. We asked one
man at the edge of the crowd why he was here. He said he had heard Jane had
healed a little girl.
    Riley said, “This is getting right interesting.”
    “Look,” I said and nodded toward the far side of the field,
where the trail came out of the woods. A woman, almost staggering, carried a
child on her back. Just behind her, two men bore a skinny little boy on a
pallet. A woman walked next to the boy, talking to him, pointing across the
field to Jane.
    “Damn, more of ‘ em ,” Riley said.
“What do we do now?”
    I shrugged and said, “Don’t know.”
    But Jane knew. She handed her rifle to me and led everyone
over to one edge of the field where the people could rest in the shade. Growing
up, I had seen a fair number of traveling preachers and even a few who claimed
to do healings. All of them put on a big show of standing up and, well,
preaching at folks. I had always treated such preachers as free entertainment.
    Maybe I should have known better by then, but I expected
Jane to put on a show, to start preaching about her messages from God and all
that. But she didn’t. Instead, she just had a little private time with folks.
Sometimes it was a whole family carrying a sick child, or one of their old
folks, to see Jane. Sometimes it was just a mother or a father with a baby. She
just visited with them, listened to each and every one of them. She would pray
and lay hands upon the sick and the hurt. You could hear other folks praying
along with her. A few had their arms lifted up and were speaking in tongues. Other
folks who had been with Jane, or were still waiting, took to singing the old
hymns everyone knew.
    Riley and I stayed busy helping newcomers get settled. And
they kept coming. Soon we had fifty people in the crowd. Men from the camp were
drifting down to watch the strange doings. After two hours or so, I saw
Lieutenant Gordon and another officer, a thin gray-haired man, coming toward
us.
    Gordon waved me over. “What’s going on here?” He sounded
angry.
    I explained about the healing at the Baker place, and I
guessed that the story had spread.
    “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
    “Didn’t seem important, Sir. We didn’t know these people
would come here.”
    “They have to go. Move them. Now.”
    “No, Lieutenant,” the other officer said. “We don’t treat
our people like livestock.” He called to one of the men on guard duty, “Bring
down some food and water for these folks. Whatever you can
find. Anyone gives you trouble, tell them Colonel Campbell sent you.” He
said to Gordon, “You can go. I’ll see to this.”
    Gordon looked angry, but he said, “Yes, Sir.”
    I watched him walk away. Good
riddance , I thought.
    The Colonel took a step toward me and said, “Tell me about
the girl.”
    I told him what Jane had said about her mission from God,
fighting the Government, what had happened at the Baker place, how Gordon had
treated her, everything. He listened and looked at the crowd around Jane. From
his questions, I could tell he already knew some things, likely from the sealed
letter I had brought. But he wanted to hear it all from me.
    When I was done, he said, “You believe her?”
    “Sir, I don’t know what to believe. But she believes.”
    “That might be enough. I’d like to talk with her.”
    I led him down to Jane, who stood up when she saw him
coming, and shook hands with him as any man would have done. They walked off a
little way together. I watched as they spoke, but couldn’t hear what was said.
Each looked directly at the other. Neither smiled, but each nodded as the other
spoke. He gave a final nod and walked away.
    He came to me and said, “If she needs