Exodus

Ronald held the door open for me and Jamal and then followed us out.



I walked slowly up to the gate, my lips moving as I silently counted heads. There were at least thirty kids out there, several of them bleeding, all of them looking like they needed food and shelter.



I stopped just a few feet from the fence, making sure I was still far enough away that no one could reach through and grab me.



A kid I’d never seen before was in front of everyone, right by the opening to the gate.



I stood facing him and waited a few seconds before speaking, taking in his ultra-skinny six-foot-tall frame, his brown, unkempt and unwashed hair, and his intelligent but serious eyes.



“Hi,” I said.



“Hi. Are you Bryn?”



“I am. And who are you?”



“I’m Derek. I heard you’re starting a new place down here. A cannibal-free zone.”



My heart stopped as the sound of my dad’s name came from his lips. I was unable to speak for a few seconds, feeling like I was seeing a ghost - my dad from another time and place.



Jamal nudged me gently from behind.



“I guess that’s true,” I said, my heart beating double-time to get back to its normal rhythm. I took a slow breath in and out, calming my nerves that were threatening to run away from me.



“We’d like to join you.”



I raised an eyebrow. “All of these people are with you?”



He nodded. “Most of them. Some we picked up recently.”



“Where are you from?”



“Tallahassee.”



“You’re a long way from home,” said Ronald.



“We have no home anymore, but we want one. And we’re willing to work for it,” he said, nodding his head firmly.



I wanted to believe him. He shared my father’s name, making him instantly credible in my heart. But I put my own feelings aside, knowing I needed to be smart and protect the interests of my community regardless of how I felt personally. I had to find a way to determine whether he was a good kid needing a home, or a canner trying to breach our defenses.



“How do I know you’re not a canner … a cannibal? Or a sweeper?”



“I don’t know what a sweeper is, but you know I’m not a cannibal by looking at me.” He gestured to his gaunt face and skeletal frame. “Do I look like I’ve been indulging in any barbecues lately?”



“He’s got a point,” said Jamal, looking the guy up and down, shaking his head sadly.



Derek turned and gestured to the group. “We’re all starving. Some of us barely made it here. We’ve been on foot the entire way. We’d almost given up hope of finding any safe place to live until we came upon the waystation.”



I frowned. “Waystation?” He can’t be serious.



“Yeah. The Crackerbarrel? Jimmy and Sissy?”



I laughed, unable to help myself. “Seriously? You found me through them too?” I guess they really have forgiven me for breaking that door.



“Yeah. Word’s getting around. And they’re good people. Totally anti-canner. They help anyone who’s on the same side. They’re telling everyone you’re down in the swamps. We started out going there, but then we heard you were coming here.”



“Who told you that?”



“A girl we met by the beach. She said she met you just the other day.”



I shook my head. “I can’t believe it. How is that possible?”



He shrugged. “It’s a small world, now. We don’t have the Internet anymore, but we don’t need it. We’ve got word of mouth. And word on the street’s you’ve got a good thing going - that you don’t tolerate cannibals or hurting kids or kicking people out who need you. So that’s why we’re asking. Can we please come in there and be a part of your community?”



I looked out over the faces, all of them drawn and tired, sunburned and dirty. Their clothes were ragged, some of the shirts barely covering the important body parts. Kids who couldn’t have been more than fourteen looked decades older.



But no matter how crappy and exhausted and worn down they appeared, there was one thing that this cruel world had not taken away from them yet. And that was hope. I saw it on every single face out in that crowd.



“Open up the gate,” I said, raising up my chin. My helmet slipped down, and I quickly pushed it up so I could see again.



“You sure?” asked Ronald, holding up the keys.



I spoke up so everyone in the crowd would hear me.



“Everyone? My name is Bryn. This town is called Haven. It was founded just yesterday by my friends and me. Anyone who wants to live in peace and be a contributing member of our family is welcome in here with us. Anyone who comes through these gates must be willing to sacrifice his needs and desires for the good of our group as a whole. We promise, in return, to do everything we can to keep you safe, fed, sheltered, and cared for. But I warn you now; do not try to mess with us or hurt us, or you we will make you very sorry. That’s a promise too.”



My eyes scanned the crowd, making sure each and every one of them knew I had absolutely no hesitation about backing up what I said. Once I knew I had their attention, I finished my speech. “You make your pledge as you enter, or you stay outside the gates.”



I stepped back as I heard the gate’s lock clicking open. Jamal rolled the gate open and then stood next to me, his brother on my other side.



We greeted each person as they came through the entrance.



Peter had opened the glass door to the building, and our other friends were standing there, waiting to greet the new arrivals.



Derek stepped through and walked up to me, putting out his hand. It was cut and bruised, covered in calluses. I tipped my helmet back and shifted the shield off to the left so I could shake it.



“Welcome to Haven,” I said.



“Thank you for letting me in. I swear my oath to you.”



“Not to me,” I said, shaking my head, “to the people of Haven.”



He smiled. “To the people of Haven, then.” He nodded at Jamal and Ronald and then stood next to Jamal, watching as each one of his group came through and did the same as he had done.



There were kids as young as twelve, some no bigger in size than children of eight because they’d been without food for so long. I battled tears as they came shuffling by, many unable to walk without help from others.



They’d come from so far and battled so many adversities, just to find a place they could call home again. And they were all counting on me to make it happen. I should have been stressed beyond measure, but all I could feel was love swelling my heart until it felt like it was going to burst.



When the last kid limped up to me and grabbed me in a weak hug, because that’s all he could manage, mumbling, “Thank you,” in my shoulder, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. The sadness and anger and fear and hope and joy all came crashing together, an emotional grenade, exploding out from inside me.



The tears flowed down my face and sobs wracked my body.



Bodo saved the boy from my breakdown by appearing behind me, detaching me and taking me into his arms, just as I was about to collapse. He picked me up and carried me like a baby through the throngs of kids in the lobby who were talking in hushed tones, some of them lying on the floor now, but all of them smiling and looking relieved.



I heard one child-like voice cut clearly through the murmur of the crowd as Bodo carried me in his big, strong arms.



“Why is she crying?” the girl asked.



Someone I didn’t yet know answered. “Because she cares about us. That’s why.”



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