Short Story- "Harvester Hunting"

There was a time when peace was treasured, when laws were maintained, when a ruling body provided order for all citizens equally. That time had ended in a forgotten aftermath of an equally forgotten war. Few dreamed of laws and freedom now, and those that did crashed unsuccessfully against the cages of a harsh reality: survival.

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Milan hated her “brother.” They had no blood in common, so it wasn’t forbidden to harbor negative feelings towards him, but she could not express this dislike in any form if she wished to stay alive. Her family–her father in particular–would kill her if she offended him in any way. That would have the risk of driving him away, and nobody was willing to think of the consequences if he were to leave. Milan knew that saying anything that was not praise to Daniel would be the equivalent of planting a gun to her own forehead and pulling the trigger. And all because Daniel was the chief “harvester.”

Harvesters were the food-gatherers in a family. Their job was to find a farm and maintain it for as long as possible with the tools on hand. When the farm broke down, as it was sure to do without new equipment, they were trusted to find another one. During migrations to a new farm, harvesters became hunters, capturing fish and animals for food. The elders of Milan’s family spoke wistfully of stories they had been told as children, about great people building huge skyscrapers made solely to give away food to everybody. They spoke of “stores,” places to buy and sell goods by using scraps of paper with the faces of historical figures printed on them. They spoke…

Daniel had stopped the storytelling. It was nonsense, he claimed. How could human beings, individualistic as they were, ever agree all at the same time to create something for other people? How could human beings, smart as they were, ever agree to trade vital objects such as food, water, and even rare objects like guns for pieces of paper? Even if the stories were true, Daniel said, they had no worth except to show that the people of the past were less civilized than the people of the present. And that was that. The elders either kept their silence, or disappeared suddenly in the night. When Daniel was asked about it, he told them that they must have found other families. It was common enough.

The first few years that Daniel had been with them, the farm they had found was rich. Not in land: there were only a few fertile acres of that commodity, but the machinery to harvest them seemed close to brand-new. A few years changed that. Though everyone worked to keep the farm alive, they saw that each year the harvest grew smaller. The grains became less full, shriveled and without nutrition, and the humus they valued wasted away into dust. The family knew that it would have to leave soon. Daniel left the other harvesters to do work while he set off to locate another farm. By luck, he succeeded in finding one, though it had apparently been poorly maintained. The pathetic wheat they managed to get from it convinced them to move again. The family walked through harsh rains and found many farms occupied by healthier, larger groups that stood ready to defend their land. Daniel could only catch rabbits and squirrels. He had killed one deer, and the others had learned overnight to avoid him and his gun.

It was then that Milan and her best friend Espel, along with a large amount of the other boys, started calling for Daniel to leave. A harvester named Eddy claimed that he knew far better methods of hunting and trapping than Daniel did, and accused the other teenager of leading them farther north, where it would be even harder to live, especially with winter coming on.

That night, Eddy disappeared. He must have found another family, of course, in his rage that this family was not a successful one. Daniel also had the good news that aside from the stray rabbits and squirrels that he had caught, there had also been a large animal he had found, recently killed. He said that some of the meat had gone bad, so he’d only taken select chunks. They had a feast in celebration, with extra meat, bread from Eddy’s rations, and even a store of wine that Daniel had saved from the previous farm.

Only Milan wasn’t as excited about the extra food. The meat tasted exotic and strange, and the bread somehow had the taste of stolen bread. Milan whispered her fears to Espel, that Eddy had been killed and they were being served his meat.

“Daniel must have done this in desperation. We’ve run out of food, so he kills the people he hates the most for food!” she said. Espel was older than her though, and therefore knew more, and therefore he ignored her. He drank wine like everybody else, cheerfully filling his stomach with the strange meat and the unexpected alcohol.

Milan told her suspicions to her father and mother when they had the privacy of a tent, and in a fury her father took out a pistol. However, he did not go to Daniel, as she had expected. To her horror, her father turned the pistol to her instead, bellowing, “Traitor!” Only her mother’s cry that it was forbidden to hate or kill one of your own blood saved her, but her mother did not support her in any other way. The only sign that she might have agreed with Milan was that she cried that night.

The next day, the other harvesters reported a terrible tragedy. Everyone had been so drunk in the night that a wolf had managed to sneak in and eat Espel. The people mourned, and in their hearts held a grudge against the harvesters for bringing such terrible news. Fortunately, Daniel had killed the wolf and saved the family from more casualties. However, that news was not announced until noon, and by Daniel himself. As a result, the people endeared him to their hearts even more.

Milan wanted to hear no more after that. She stayed in her tent while the others built a small fence to protect the clearing. She ended up eating nothing for the entire day, because the day’s meal consisted of Espel’s rations and the wolf meat. Though she was both depressed and terrified, she still tried to hear the conversation of the others outside. One man asked Daniel if the meat from the previous night had been from a wolf too, because it had tasted similar to the meat they ate today. There was a pause, too short to be suspicious, but too long not to be noticed. Then, Daniel answered, “Yes.”

Milan was not surprised when, as night moved in, Daniel came into the tent. The other members of the family were off inspecting a part of the fence where something had apparently “broken in.” No doubt Daniel had been chosen to guard the tents with the children.

“What now?” she asked, as he pushed the cloth flap closed. She was not scared anymore. Her two best friends had died trying to stop a madman. How could she succeed where they had not?

Daniel paused for a moment, and cocked his head to look at her. Then, in that calm, persuading voice of his, he spoke.

“We’ve never talked alone like this, Milan, so allow me to tell you something. This “family” is hopeless. It will never survive. History proves it.”

Now she was surprised, and her answer came out bitterly: “Why are you talking about history? Why do you even bother STAYING with the family? WHY ARE YOU SAYING ALL THIS, WHEN YOU PLAN TO KILL ME IN JUST A FEW MINUTES?”

Daniel remained calm. To her confusion, he started speaking in a rehearsed voice, as if quoting something.

“A long time ago, there were leaders that people chose because they were smart, and appeared righteous. People didn’t rule because they were stronger, or could provide for others. They were chosen for the rules they could set…” Milan gasped in recognition.

“That’s one of the stories the elders told!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, and I mocked them. Why would people trust others to create rules for them, like a dumb game, instead of life?” Milan glared at him, but she couldn’t think of an answer. The question was probably meant to be rhetorical, anyway.

Daniel smirked at her expression. “The reason people trusted others, was because it worked, Milan. Over a long period of time, elected rulers actually rule a group better than strong individuals that kill others in their way.” Milan shuddered, and gave an involuntary sob at Daniel’s admission.

“This group…it’s the third family I’ve traveled to. In each one, I kill the ones that are against me, I gain support. But something is missing. That is their will. If people don’t have a will to do anything except scrape by, they aren’t worth ruling. You asked me why I was telling you this. The reason was and is because I’ve chosen you to live. I’ve chosen you to join me in re-creating a ‘government,’ because unlike Eddy, who only cared about solutions to his hunger, and Espel, who ignored reality and went along with whatever the majority said, you think. YOU led that little rebellion, even if you chose not to be at the head of it. Isn’t it because you also knew there was a chance I would kill the leaders?”

Milan shook even more violently, and shook her head from side to side. It felt as if at any time her head would come off and roll to the floor. Of course, that was what she had been doing. She had betrayed her friends, because deep down, she wanted herself to survive.

How could people like her lead a government? How could such filth as her even consider that sort of thing? But she remembered the stories of the elders, how she saw more in them than anyone else had…

Daniel laughed. “Don’t you want to rule, girl?” He pronounced “girl” like she was a child, though she was probably only a few years younger than he was. She thought about it. To rule with this demon would mean safety, constantly satisfied hunger, everything a society had.

Then, in a rush of pain, she remembered Eddy and Espel, and was infuriated with herself for even considering the offer. She made a decision, and Daniel must have seen it, because from behind his back he pulled out a shiny, new pistol.

She died proudly, because she knew that he would come, had stolen her father’s pistol, had prepared it for this situation. She knew that though Daniel was a terrible person, humanity might gain civilization again from people like him, and she didn’t care. She knew just as much as he did, in the end, once he confirmed the fact that the elders’ stories were real.

When the family rushed back at the sound of gunfire, they found two bodies cooling on the ground inside the tent. They howled and yelled and pointed fingers and picked up the fallen pistols, and in no time at all the entire “family” was dead or had become loners again.

Such is the way of a forsaken life.