Dystance 2: Cedar's Conflict

By Mark Tufo

Secrets are uncovered along with new enemies. Strange allies enter the ever-expanding war. Will Winter and Cedar be able to fight their way to freedom or will they be dragged further into the conflict? Follow along as our heroines discover more than they could ever hope for or want, in this action-packed romp that will have you trying to find the edge of the seat you fell off of.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark Tufo
• Release date: Aug 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463844908

Mark Tufo

Mark Tufo was born in Boston Massachusetts. He attended UMASS Amherst where he obtained a BA and later joined the US Marine Corp. He was stationed in Parris Island SC, Twenty Nine Palms CA and Kaneohe Bay Hawaii. After his tour he went into the Human Resources field with a worldwide financial institution and has gone back to college at CTU to complete his masters. He lives in Colorado with his wife, three kids and two English bulldogs. Visit him at marktufo.com for news on his next two installments of the Indian Hill trilogy and his latest book Zombie Fallout

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Prologue

Mark Tufo - Author Notes

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I had to call this a prologue to make sure I could get it recorded by the publisher! Okay, so here’s what’s going on. I wrote Dystance: Winter’s Rising, almost six years ago. At the time, I was reading a lot of Young Adult Dystopian and enjoying the hell out of it, so I decided to take a stab at it with my own slant. The problem was, I had not planned it out properly; I had no direction. I honestly didn’t even know where I wanted to take the story past the first book, certainly hadn’t planned forward into a series, and that’s the main reason it has taken so long for this sequel to appear. During that hiatus, (does that word look familiar?) the story finally crystallized in my head–I knew what I wanted to do with it. The problem was, I had offed a character I very much needed, Tallow, Winter’s love interest. I couldn’t simply pull something cheesy or insult anyone’s intelligence by saying it ‘twas merely a flesh wound, because that kid was really, truly dead. (Note: Sean, if you’re looking for direction on that last line, I would really like it to be in an English accent.)

So, I did something some of you may not approve of: a rewrite. With the help of my very talented editor, (and author in her own right, Sheila Shedd), we went back in and re-edited, re-directed, prettified the story, even. Besides producing a cleaner read, we changed two significant elements. Number one, the biggie, you could say, Tallow escaped his fate and got a new lease on life, and two, he and Winter, well, let’s just say we opened the ending to allow all manner of continuation in either direction.

Do I wish I had done it like this the first time? Yeah, I do. See, this is where writing a book by the seat of your pants doesn’t always pan out. Do you need to read the newly revised version of Dystance to catch up to speed? No, you most certainly do not. I would never advocate that someone spend their hard-earned money to purchase a perked-up version of something they’d already read; I in no way want my readers to feel as if I am somehow tricking them into buying a book twice. Are there shiny new bits to Dystance? Sure. But the story is essentially the same as it ever was. If you pretend Tallow didn’t die, you can easily pick it up from here.

Now we come to the other huge change. Sean Runnette will be taking the audio reins from Julia Whelan. In fact, he has re-recorded the first book to incorporate our changes and be in line with the voice of the rest of the series. The obvious question is: Why? Why go through all that for a perfectly sound book? Revamping Winter’s Rising had absolutely nothing to do with Julia Whelan. She is a truly talented artist and she did that first book justice. This has all to do with Sean Runnette. I love that man’s talent and his almost scary ability to bring my characters life, and let’s face it, I believe him to be all things Tufo. I cannot imagine anyone else narrating my books. (I love you man-yeah, I’m talking about you, big guy!) Anyone else think he’s blushing in his booth while he has to read out loud what I just wrote about him? Man, I would love to have a picture of him right now…(Ok, this is Sheila speaking. Just which wall is Mark breaking now and how am I to follow it? Here’s the editor popping into the author’s discussion of his own work, while I ((and Sean)), knowing that said editor is putting her two cents in and that said narrator must speak it all to the reader while assuming we are deliberately crafting this bit of first-person narrative into which the author must now re-insert himself)…mind blown!

I am so glad to be back in the Dystance saddle, so to speak. Buckle up for safety–it’s going to be a bumpy ride!

1

THE DECISION

The moon had grown full, waned into nothingness, and was returning to its former glory as I waited for Tallow to regain his strength. I sat on a small ridgeline looking out over the expansive plains below. Tallow had slowly made his way toward me, his injury no longer life-threatening but certainly painful, if I was to believe the cringing expressions on his face. Though I had caught him more than once running or playing with his friends, he never looked quite as miserable as he did when he was around me; perhaps some of it was emotional.

Hello, Tallow, I said without turning around.

You heard me? he asked, somehow astonished.

You realize you groan with every other footfall, do you not?

Sorry. I did not know that.

Now I turned to see his pained expression. He did seem deep in thought; maybe he honestly didn’t realize what he was doing. You want to sit? I asked.

Not really. I came out here to see what you were doing. The further away from the pickets, the War, Dystance…Haden, he added that last part in there tenuously, the more withdrawn you have become.

He was right. After Cedar rescued me and the mind-numbing headaches had stopped, the realization of what we had done, what we needed to do, and how we were going to even possibly do it, had set in. If it hadn’t been for Serrot and his loyal soldiers, along with my best friend, Cedar, we would have been doomed. I read that great people rise to meet great challenges, but I was not one of them. My so-called greatness had endangered my people and almost cost us everything. I had allowed myself to be used as a pawn in a game I did not know the rules to, and to be honest, hadn’t even realized I’d been playing, or been played, you could say.

We had moved as far from the underground mountain complex and the pickets, the lethal boundary between Dystance and the world, as we thought prudent–somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty miles out. It had been a slow, arduous journey, fraught with hardships and some serious grumblings from what remained of the Dystance soldiers. Our people weren’t known for their physical prowess. Until we’d been shipped into The War, the majority of their lives had consisted of short walks for food and simple, straightforward games. Tallow and I had always wandered from the Complex, but most of us had gone no more than a few miles on any particular day. It was the fiery Cedar who had kept them in line, who had kept them moving, who had kept their morale up even after we lost one to a grizzly bear. She was a girl possessed; she had a focus and determination none of us could match. In fairness to the rest of us, though, I think most of her resolve came from the fact that she wanted some peace and quiet so she could read her romance novels. One time, Johnjon had interrupted her after a day of travel, and by the time she was done with him, he’d looked like a whipped cur. He flinched any time she got within fifty feet.

No; out of the sixty of us, I was the pariah, the outcast. No longer a leader, I was barely even a person to be trusted. Perhaps some of that is in my head; perhaps not. I’ve kept as much distance from them as they have me.

Tallow sat down next to me with a heavy grunt. Is there a reason for your self-isolation? he asked, point blank. When I didn’t reply, he kept talking. I don’t know if you blame yourself for everything that’s happened, but if that’s the case, you should know that no one else does.

Just being carried along in the stream? I asked.

What? He didn’t understand the analogy.

I’ve just been swept up by the events, right? How could I have possibly fought the current? Whisked away. Unable to swim against it.

What are you talking about, Win? Are you talking about that ass, Haden? You did what you thought would be for the best of us.

I almost got you killed.

Yet, here I am. He spread his arms wide.

I got your friend killed; you got lucky. I was single-handedly responsible for the annihilation of the Comanchokee clan. How do you think they feel about their great promised warrior? What do they say now about the Ghost?

You agreed to a plan that looked promising. It was war, Winter. People die. Even you can’t prevent that. Look at me. He tenderly touched the side of my face, turning it towards him. I stared into his deep, green eyes. They crinkled up in the corners as he smiled. I love you, Winter. I think I’ve loved you since the day you stumbled out of the bio-building, just a scrawny kid who couldn’t get her own food. Of course, I didn’t know what it was then, but every moment I have spent with you has shown me how special you truly are. And you, as usual, are being entirely too hard on yourself. If not for you, not one Dystancian would be alive right now. Certainly not me. I mean, even if I can barely move around on my own without a crutch and some yoba root to chew on.

You’re kidding, right?

Which part?

The pain. I watched you and about five others playing that game Serrot taught you.

Cosser? Umm, you saw that?

Yeah, you looked pretty hale of health.

Dammit. So, the pity thing is over for me, then? He was smiling again, this time with a lopsided, mischievous grin.

Yeah, you’ve basically burned through that.

The other part is truer than I could ever express, Win, and I should have said something years ago. When I saw you with Haden…sometimes the way you looked at him when you thought no one else was looking, it was worse than being stabbed. I’d never known anything even remotely close to that pain.

You deserved it, I told him.

Ouch! Don’t hold back on account of my injury. Right, he added when he realized that he couldn’t play that angle anymore. Maybe I did. I was scared, and you and Cedar looked like you had it all figured out. I didn’t want to be the weak link Brody had me pegged as.

Brody didn’t know everything. Without your strength, I would not have been able to make it, I told him.

But I made everything you did more difficult.

Yeah, which made me work harder.

Look at me! Helping by hindering.

I slugged him in the arm.

Is he done faking? Cedar asked as she came up to meet us.

You knew, too? Tallow asked. Didn’t anyone here feel sorry for me?

Yeah, we felt sorry for you all right. But I think you’re the only one that thought you were fooling anyone, she replied. On a more serious note, I think we’re going to have to leave here soon.

Why? Tallow asked. There’s plenty of game to hunt; there are apple trees, we have shelters up; seems like the perfect place.

"We didn’t escape the War for just us to be free, you know. We did it in the hopes we could make everyone free."

Wow, Winter. She sounds just like you. Alright, while you two figure it out, I’ll be playing Cosser. He stood up with a grunt, a quick flash of pain showed on his face that I did not think was faked, and dashed off.

How do you not just squeeze that behind every time you look at it? Cedar asked as we watched Tallow leave.

Cedar! I admonished her. You forgetting about Serrot already?

"I was asking why you didn’t do it."

Alright. Spill it.

Spill what? she asked, innocently.

That liberation line you just gave Tallow. He’s right, I might as well have said it.

Everything you do Winter, I am here to support. Sorry–did that come across as cheesy as it sounded?

Close.

Books, ok? I’m on my third read through on most of what I had. And I seriously screwed up.

What? With Serrot?

Oh gosh no. With Liam and Claire.

I racked my brain but could not come up with anyone I knew by those names. It should have dawned on me quicker; I’ll blame my thoughts being elsewhere, like the real world. Characters in one of your novels?

I grabbed the third book in the series, Winter! she exclaimed as if this were the most heart-rending thing that had ever happened to her.

Oh no! I matched her tone.

Her eyebrows furrowed. Are you agreeing with me or are you making fun of me? Because this is disastrous. She took a deep breath and launched. "Liam and Claire were meant to be together but she did something to betray him and now he wanders the world lost in time and space and she is attempting to make things right so she can bring him back. I need to know what she did, Winter."

So, the whole, ‘we need to save the world’ bit; that was so you can go find another library?

Winter! Who is so cruel as to not label books in a series properly? I’m thinking it was people like that who were the cause of the collapse of the world.

Cedar, it was against impossible odds we found that library. What makes you think we’ll ever find another one?

Because we have to.

Hard to argue with a single-minded determination like that.

Besides, we did set out to free everyone and make a better world, didn’t we?

About that…you have any big ideas? I asked her.

Hey, you’re the prophecy, I’m just your trusty sidekick. I would have thought you’d have a plan by now.

Funny.

I’ve got something, Winter, but I don’t think you’re going to like it very much, Cedar said as she sat down next to me.

I gripped the pommel of my sword to the point where it started to squeak against the palm of my hand.

We need to go back, or at least you do.

What? Me? Why?

For the Comanchokees.

I killed them, Cedar. Do you want me to go back to atone for that?

She stood up abruptly. Stop it! I’m sick of this defeatist talk. Your mannerisms lately make you look like you’re beaten. You think those people down there don’t see that? You didn’t get them killed. Haden and Mennot took care of that. Yeah, they used you. Get over it! She was shaking with the force of the words. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and do something about it! Make it right!

They’re gone! I cried, tears streaming down my face.

Yes, some of them are, Winter, but not all of them. There’s still a thousand of them out there waiting for the Ghost, waiting for their savior to come and do…well, what saviors do, I suppose, save them. How do you think they would feel if they saw you now?

Justified in their disappointment. The stinging slap struck so fast I wasn’t even sure if she had hit me or I had imagined it.

I’m…I’m so sorry! She covered her mouth up with her hands.

We stood slowly, facing each other. Cedar stepped back; I don’t know if I was proud of her or in shock. She reached one hand down to her sword, she would defend herself if it came to that, though I had no intention of drawing my weapon. Had I become so remote that Cedar thought I might actually draw on her?

I’d like to be left alone, I told her as I turned my back. It was long moments before I heard her move away. I broke down into a sob that drained all the moisture from my body, made my head pound in pain, and exhausted me to the point that I stayed right there, spent that whole night under the stars, even though the conditions had warranted me seeking shelter. The next morning, I arose with the sun. I had made up my mind during the night; Cedar was right. I would go back to the Comanchokees. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was going to do; maybe I would go there merely for the fact they could mete out whatever justice to me they felt I deserved. At least it would be swifter than the slow torture I was giving myself. When I got down to the camp, I only expected a guard or two to be awake. The entire place had been packed up and all heads turned my way.

What’s this? I asked an approaching Tallow.

Cedar told us you were going back for the Comanchokees. We’re going with you.

Cedar told you that? I looked over the crowd until I found her, she was adjusting her backpack until she saw me, then smiled and gave her silly little wave.

Ready? she mouthed at me.

I just want you to know I think this is madness. Serrot came up to stand next to Tallow. She told me last night you were going to do this. I understand your reasoning, I guess, even if I don’t agree.

Oh, you understand my reasoning? I asked. That’s funny, because I haven’t heard my reasoning yet. Maybe we should get Cedar to explain it to us, then we’ll both know. I looked sternly over at her; she shrugged her shoulders.

We ready? she asked, walking up like we were all going for a stroll, not headed back to the War and certain death.

2

THE RETURN

Spirits started off decently high; we were all free, we were all eating better than we had for most of our lives, and we weren’t in the war. Sure, every day was one of survival, but survival against nature, not against hostile weapons. There is a huge difference between finding enough to eat, creating a shelter to keep out the elements, staying healthy and having a force actively seek out your demise. Each step back towards the War took something out of us all. Well, except Cedar, who seemed indefatigable. She was a bubble of positive energy in a slowly swirling drain of despair. My heart beat irregularly when I caught first sight of a picket. It was the clear delineation between freedom, safety, and a new beginning. Beyond it lay the oppression, fear, and betrayal we’d all left behind.

I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped until people began to flow past me, heads bowed as if they were on auto-pilot, they moved inextricably forward as if they were being pulled back; they moved as though they were steel ball bearings and the pickets super magnets drawing them in. I could sense the mood change instantly, the resignation on their faces, like we had dared to change our destiny, but she had come back to claim those who had affronted her.

Honey, I’m home, Cedar said with a sneer as she looked upon the thin towers.

I’m not exactly sure what she meant, but it was easy enough to hear the derision. I grunted a reply.

You coming? she asked after most of the troupe had passed me by.

Don’t do this, Tallow said with a desperate plea in his eyes. What can you possibly hope to accomplish except get yourself killed? I can’t stand to lose you, Winter.

I should have felt something besides anger from his words. I twisted them in my head so that it sounded as if he were belittling me. It was easier to strike out than admit he could see inside me. Like how could I, as a woman, possibly survive on my own without the big man–you, presumably–to look after me and save me when things went wrong? I knew, in reality, he just cared. Maybe I was using anger as a way to spur me on. I don’t know why everything had to be so convoluted in my head; I’d fought it all my life. At least I was wise enough to say nothing. I chewed back the words that threatened to issue forth. Better to stay quiet than to have to swallow my pride later and give the apology he would be due.

There was a copse of woods about a hundred yards from the picket line. Serrot had everyone stop and begin to set up camp. I was in the field, in between the camp and picket boundary, Cedar and Tallow by my side. Both were silent, but I could feel the polar oppositions of what they wanted me to do.

I wish I could go with you, Cedar said.

Me too, I said as I turned to her and grabbed her hands.

Tallow could not take his eyes away from the pickets. He didn’t tell me not to go, and for that, at least, I was happy. But maybe, just maybe if he had forcibly pulled me away, expressed his undying love and told me we could find a life together…. No. Even that would not do. As selfish as I wanted to be, other people’s lives depended on what I did now. This had always been so much bigger than me.

I turned, letting go of Cedar. I took a step. Tallow reached out and grabbed my hand; he pulled me in tight and kissed me at once tenderly and also with an urgency. The love I’d always felt for him surged through me.

Oh my God, Cedar exclaimed. We broke our contact so that I could look over at her; she was fanning her face with her hands.

What are you doing? Tallow asked, clearly confused, as was I. I thought perhaps she was winded and was attempting to get more air into her lungs, though we had done nothing worthy of that type of exertion.

I think I’m going to cry! It’s…it’s just so beautiful…you two…you are just so beautiful. Tragic love, she sighed, and then she did cry.

I don’t think I like the sound of ‘tragic.’ Tallow said.

I agree. And what’s with the hands? I’m finding that disturbing, I told her.

Why are you even asking, Win? You know it’s something that Jandylin or Jocelyn or Josephine do with their hands.

The heroines in your books? I asked my friend.

She nodded her head through a flurry of tears.

I shook my head. I love you both, I said as I looked at them.

Cedar somehow broke into more tears. He didn’t say anything, but I got the feeling Tallow’s heart was breaking. I turned and left, making sure to not look back at all I was leaving behind. To do so would have made what I was doing that much more difficult, if not impossible. And I knew they would come if they could, but they couldn’t. Only I, it seemed, was capable of surviving the energy field produced by the pickets; the unseen, impassable force that had kept all of our districts isolated from the rest of the world for generations. It had to be me, I went alone.

I passed through the pickets; the hair at the nape of my neck tingling as I did so. I crested a small hill and was halfway down the other side, completely out of view of the others, before I stopped to give myself a much-deserved cry, I even gave the face fanning thing a try, though it felt silly to do so. I don’t know what it was meant to accomplish, but I felt calmer anyway; it did bring a smile to my face, like I’d brought something of Cedar with me, but as I was about to laugh, I stopped, thinking that if someone were watching, they might be questioning my sanity at the moment. This popped me suddenly back to the present. I thought of the danger if I was indeed being watched. I reached down and felt the comfort of my sword pommel, the pull of the rifle sling on my shoulder and the weight of the pistol strapped to my belt. If something I did not desire did approach, it would pay for its transgression.

I plodded on, not even sure of my destination but fully convinced that fate would interject itself at some point. I mean it had to, right? I could not be destined to roam around like an untethered, errant bumblebee, flitting from flower to flower hoping to drop pollen in the right place. That didn’t seem possible. I had a destiny. I did start to falter in my assumption as the sun began to set and I had neither heard nor spotted anything larger than a grouse, which had alit from a nearby hollow in the terrain and startled me. I had thought about shooting it for a well-deserved meal; its meat would be a welcome addition to the bag of dried fruits I was carrying. Unfortunately, I could not risk the percussion of the round being expelled. The noise traveled too far and would surely bring someone to investigate. No, for now, stealth was more important than roast fowl.

By the time darkness descended, I must have traveled ten miles. I was truly weary. Not from the traveling, but rather from the stress of being away from those I loved and from the burden I carried in my mind. The weight of what I was attempting to do had settled firmly on my shoulders and neck, rolling all of it forward so that my head sagged. All I had discovered during the last half of my trek was that I was going to need new boots soon. The night did not merit a fire to chase away the physical cold; I could have used it to dispel the chill of my mental despair, but again, I did not want to risk it. Nothing short of a large bonfire could chase the blues away, and that would be visible for miles. I sat with my back against a large stone and chewed angrily on an energy bar Johnjon had created. It tasted very much like the dirt it had come from. Before long, I felt the pull of sleep.

Wake up, Princess. I felt a feather light touch on my shoulder. I wearily opened my eyes, my vision blurry. For someone that had not seemed overly tired when I fell asleep I was exhausted as I attempted to awake. Night’s grip had not released, though the moon was full and seemed more than willing to share its light.

Brody? I asked as I stood.

I’ve been watching you, Princess. You’ve been doing alright.

How can you say that? I let myself be deluded, tricked into false alliances; I got hundreds killed…what’s left of the Dystancians could fit in my apartment.

That any of them are alive is a testament to your strength. This is just the beginning, Princess, you are going to be tested in ways that you can’t even imagine right now.

How about you not dance around it, Brody, and for once in your life just tell me what I’m in for?

Oh, Princess, I can’t do that. I’m just a figment of your overtaxed mind. You’re still sleeping against that rock.

Then why are you bothering me? Why don’t you turn yourself into a nice venison steak? Change that rock into a pillow where I am lying in the arms of Tallow.

Would it be better if I took this form? The hard features of my warrior mentor, Brody, turned into the god-like ones of the leader of a great tribe, a man I’d thought I might once have been in love with. Miss me? Haden smiled, and it looked so genuine. Even if I was asleep, I could feel my heart quicken at the sight of him. How could someone so divine-looking be so devil-like?

When we meet again, Winter, I am going to choke the breath from you…slowly, so I can watch the light of life leave those pretty, pale eyes of yours. The smile never wavered, though the words he spoke became more terrifying. Haden grew slightly in stature but spread enormously in girth.

Now, now, Haden! She is still my pet to do with as I please. Grease sluiced from Mennot’s mouth as he smacked at a large leg of lamb. I’d like to fatten you up a little, but I really don’t like to share. His belly rippled and rose and fell as he laughed. It sounded as if he had a chorus backing him up.

Mennot began to shrink down, Red hair erupted from his bald, sweating skull and flowed in waves down a petite, muscled form. Don’t listen to them, Winter. They’re all just afraid.

I was happy to see Cedar; immediately my heartbeat slowed.

I’m afraid, too, I told her.

And you should be. Wake up Winter–danger is coming. And she shoved me hard enough that I fell back into the boulder I had been sleeping against. I was startled awake, either from the shove, the realization of the hard surface behind me, or more likely the words of warning my friend had delivered. I awoke much quicker into the real world than I had that of my dreams. My ears perked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, many of them, in fact. They were not being stealthy, though they were also not heralding their arrival. It was more the movements of a group ready to rest after a long day. I stood slowly and poked my head above the rock to see the clear outlines of a Bruton death squad.

Really? I asked, looking up to the heavens. Earlier I had foolishly wished for some human contact–this was not what I meant. It appeared as if the gods were not without a dark and grisly humor. I reached down and grabbed my rifle. There were twelve of them; I felt confident I could halve their number before they would be able to rally. What then, though? If anyone else was in the vicinity, they would surely come running. The rifle was a wonderfully efficient and deadly killing tool, but it was not without its drawbacks. I had not carried very much of the ammunition. First, because it was not in limitless supply, and secondly, it was heavy. If I were forced to use my sword, it would become a hindrance as I parried.

They were heading for my rock, going to use it as I had for a break against the elements and defense, should that become necessary. I had backed up a few paces, but I had no illusions that I could simply sneak off, undetected. The comforting light that the moon was giving off, which I had initially counted among my blessings, was now a curse.

Well, as Cedar says, ‘Go big or go home.’ Until now, I didn’t really understand the phrase, but it seemed fitting for my current predicament. I climbed onto the rock. A breeze stirred, pulling my hair to the left in a sweeping fashion. I was terrified, but the effect was welcome: standing on a precipice, hair blowing in the moonlight, armed with weapons almost unknown in this region…it must have given me some sort of warrior flare. The Brutons stopped as one to stare. I could hear them murmuring amongst themselves. I was not overly fond of the moniker I had gathered on the field, the Ghost, but to hear it whispered with such reverence in this setting gave me hope that the night would not end in bloodshed, at least not mine. The group that had been bunched together, fanned out; they were going to