The fighting ceased.
There was actually nothing left to fight about or over anymore.
Tyler did well that first year after the war, farming tobacco. But a wild fire took a good bit of that from him.
Wild fires took a lot from people the first few years. The wars raged for so long. So many bombs were exploded that the entire ozone layer was compromised.
It was dry everywhere with only small pockets green. People just had to find them and access was limited.
It was time to move on. Travel the roads, eat what they could barter. Stay in transient camps, as most of the United States did. Tyler gathered most of the world lived like that.
Gone were the days of television, computers, electronics, and cars.
There was no more gasoline, because there was no way to get it.
The only way to get news was word of mouth.
Tyler had another purpose and another plan and took his son along to implement it. It was a father son thing. On the first part he took his daughter, on this trip, it was just the men.
The horses ‘nay’ got Tyler’s attention and he poured some water from the water camel into a bucket. “Here you go, Sampson, drink up,” he said as he gave it to the horse. “We’re almost there.”
“Are you sure we can get in there?” Joshua asked. “You said people couldn’t go there for a long time.”
“Yep. I’m pretty sure. And what we’re looking for is still there. Mostly intact, too, I have heard.”
“Did you see it Daddy? Did you see it during the war?”
“I did. And I told you all this, Joshua.”
“I know. But tell me again; tell me about the city, Daddy.”
Tyler chuckled and lifted Joshua onto the horse. Tyler mounted the horse behind him.
“Once upon a time,” Tyler said. “There was a great big city and all the buildings were white.” He snapped the reigns and the horse began to walk slowly. “And in that city, many men, often great men, made decisions that built this country. They were called Senators, Congressman, and Presidents.”
“And you’re really gonna leave it here, Daddy?”
“Yep.” Tyler nodded.
“But you had it for so long. Since you were my age, you kept it.”
“And I said I was gonna pass it on,” Tyler told his son. “And I am. I’m passing it on to the future. Harry said it was important.”
“Then we should keep it,” Joshua said. “I mean we took that trip to get this box. It means so much to you.”
“Nah,” Tyler shook his head. “The trip with you and your sister meant much more. This box ceased being important now. Maybe, Josh, maybe in the future it will be. Maybe far in the future, maybe not, but maybe in the future, that box will mean something. Maybe it could even stop this from happening again. “
“Can I see the inside one more time before we leave it?”
“Yeah, yeah, you can.”
Joshua smiled and held on to his father as they rode on in their journey.
They’d drop off the box in what once was Washington DC, the box that Harry years before had given to Tyler.
And then father and son would move on.
They would just ride on together as they had done for years.
There wasn’t really anywhere to go but back home.
They would just keep going until they got there.
EPILOQUE
2575 AD
Marquis had just fallen asleep.
The brightness of the moon made sleep difficult as it reflected on his bedroom wall.
He lay in bed with his new wife staring up at the ceiling. A breeze cut through the curtains and he counted the flaps of the fabric as the wind as they softly struck the window sill.
He counted them in hopes that it would help him sleep.
He was an old soldier and had finally returned home from the war out west. He knew eventually he would have to return to fight. He had to fight to protect the fertile soil of his homeland. He had no problem with that.
His homeland fertility was the ultimate upper hand that they had over many nations.
The war had raged for thirteen years.
Some say it was a repeat of history. But it was a history of which no one had solid proof.
It had been said that the man who possessed the knowledge of the past would prevent the disaster of the future.
Many believed that no such knowledge existed. Marquis knew better. He had seen the evidence across the forbidden lands. The forbidden lands were labeled that by the elders as the property of the demons.
Marquis knew better.
He knew that the elders were only protecting the truth.
And within that truth was the wisdom of the past that Marquis so diligently sought.
He had been asked many times what he expected to find.
Marquis didn’t know, but he was certain he would know it when he found it
It was a four day journey by foot to reach the forbidden land that started just beyond the Otoma River.
When Marquis was seventeen he had left his father’s home, crossed the river and headed into the White rock field. He knew then that going any farther would require a horse.
A year later he rode a horse for six weeks. It was then than an earthquake had opened up the land and Marquis, by the fortune of the Gods, had discovered the existence of a previous civilization.
From that moment on, the warnings of the elders were discarded and everyone traveled to the forbidden lands for answers.
What had happened? What became of this civilization?
What was the wisdom of the past that would prevent disaster of the future?
Everyone knew if that answer was uncovered then perhaps the war would be stopped.
But the complete irony of it all was that men fought for portions of the land where they believed this fortune of knowledge existed.
For years Marquis searched, and as he worked and saved his money, he hired men to search for him. He would fight for the buried knowledge if need be.
A few men’s lives would be worth the price to save all mankind. That was his reasoning.
Lying with his new bride, just two days after his thirtieth birthday, Marquis was stirred from the sleep that he fought so hard to find.
“General!” a voice called.
Marquis heard the call and the stampede of horses.
His wife mumbled in her grogginess, “What is it?”
“No worries, my Love, I’ll handle it.” Marquis got up from bed and went to the window. “You call my name with urgency,” he said to the younger man on the lead horse.
“General. We found it.”
Marquis didn’t need to ask what. He knew. This was the latest team he had sent on a search of the land a hundred miles north of the White Rock field.
Grabbing his robe, Marquis hurried from his bedroom and out to the first floor of his house.
“Enter,” he said as he opened the door.
The young man dismounted, instructed the others to stay behind and then reached into his satchel and grabbed something.
Marquis patiently waited inside for the young man to enter.
“We uncovered this.” The young man laid a metal box on the table. It had to be at least a foot long and eight inches deep. “We found a stairwell and it was buried below.”
Marquis gasped at the beauty of it. “What are these markings?” he asked as he softly touched the top of the box.
“They are words, General. Someone took great care in etching them in the box. They are like a title or an introduction. These words mean the answers to the past are in here.”
“What do they say?” Marquis asked.
The young man held up his hand, went to the door and summoned another person inside.
The man was old, perhaps seventy or more.
“This man,” the young man said, “is an interpreter of ancient language.”