Origins (The Wasteland Chronicles, #2) (7 page)

“It’s dead,” she said.

Indeed it was. The thing was slumped on the ground, purple, sticky liquid gushing from the holes I had made in its face.

We stood there a moment as the Recon kept driving. The cold wind chilled my face. My hands were still glued to the gun.

Anna put her hands on mine, and one by one released each of my fingers from the grips. She held them for a moment, looking into my eyes.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Let’s get inside,” she said. “Don’t want Makara to get lost.”

After I clicked the safety back on, we went back into the cargo bay and closed the hatch above us.

When we reentered the cab, everyone was ecstatic.

“Good job,” Samuel said. “Couldn’t have done it better myself.”

“Yeah,” Makara said. “Hopefully it’s clear sailing.”

The ground rose, leading us out of the canyon and back onto the arid, dune-ridden Boundless. Hundreds of dunes spread in all directions, stopped only by lines of jagged mountains far in the east. It would be hell trying to get through those. It was late afternoon, and the light was already failing.

But the dunes were not what worried me most. In the distance to the east a low, menacing wall of cloud tumbled toward us.

“Dust storm,” Lisa said. “And nowhere to hide.”

“First an ambush,” I said, “then a troll thing, and now a dust storm? It’s as if something doesn’t want us to get there.”

“Just bad luck,” Anna said. “Dust storms become more common the farther east you go. More sand, and less water.”

“Where do we wait it out?”

Samuel pointed toward the left. “Let’s head to that mesa. It’s maybe a klick out.”

“That’s fine,” Anna said. “We’re out of options, anyway.”

“Good to know they have Devil’s Walls out here, too,” Makara said. “Hopefully we’re not too late.”

“If we stay on the mesa’s leeward side, we should be safe,” Anna said.

Makara was going full throttle, racing against the cloud advancing toward us. The red, bulbous mass expanded ever outward, stumbling over itself. It seemed malevolent, as if it existed only to harm us, thundering and crashing with Jovian force. Lightning flashed in its interior. It was still about a mile out, and would be our deaths if we were caught in it.

One by one, the dunes in the distance were lost as the wall of cloud overtook them. We were close to the mesa. Only I didn’t know if we were close enough.

Finally the dunes ended, and a large flatland separated us from the mesa. The dust was on our right, shooting toward us, just seconds away.

“We’re not going to make it,” Lisa said.

“Hold on tight,” Makara said.

The Recon’s headlights clicked on. The land before us was eerily calm and quiet. On our right was the thrashing maelstrom.

With the force of a colossal hammer, the wind slammed into us, nearly upturning our vehicle. It spun us toward the south, forcing us to follow that direction.

“We have to make it to the mesa,” Samuel said. “That wind will make us crash into something.”

“Almost there,” Makara said.

I couldn’t see anything out the windshield, so I knew Makara couldn’t, either. She kept the compass on the dash pointed northeast – the direction we had been going earlier to hit the mesa. The wind pummeled the side of the Recon and lightning crackled around us.

That was the worst part – the lightning. I tried not to picture myself getting fried to a crisp from it.

The wind died as we reached the leeward side of the mesa. Makara slammed on the brakes. We slowed to a stop right in front of a wall of rock.

“Well...we made it,” Makara said.

“What now?” I asked.

“It is near nightfall, anyway,” Samuel said. “It’s best just to eat and sleep.”

It was hard to switch gears from running and fighting for our lives to the more mundane activity of eating, but it was a welcome change. I was hungry and exhausted in equal amounts. Makara hooked up a stove to a power source and got started on dinner. While it cooked, I closed my eyes in my seat, not even bothering to take off my seatbelt. The sounds of the raging storm, just inches away through the pane of glass, lulled me into a doze.

The smell of cooking vegetable stew roused me from sleep. Outside, it was dark, windy, and cold. The only light came from the inside of the vehicle.

We ate, the hearty stew warming me. Makara started the Recon again, to charge the battery a bit. Lisa went to the back with her blanket, her wavy brown hair falling before her face, and she ducked into the cargo bay. After a minute, Makara went back to join her, heavy-eyed. Anna was already fast asleep, leaning against the window.

Only Samuel remained awake.

“Get some sleep, Alex.”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine.” He paused. “What a day, huh?”

I didn’t answer, though. My stomach full, the events of the day had caught up with me. I fell right asleep.

W
e had been traveling east for an hour when we noticed a cloud of dust following us.

“It’s not a dust storm,” Makara said. “It’s something else.”

Anna gazed out the window. “Something’s moving inside of it.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Just give it a moment,” she said. “It’s coming closer.”

A sound soon accompanied the dust – the roar of engines. Within the dust cloud were about a dozen gleaming vehicles moving across the desert flatland. They were too small to be cars.

“Motorcycles,” Anna said.

“Great,” Makara said. “Whose turn is it to man the turret this time?”

“They might be friendlies,” Anna said.

“They might not,” Samuel said. “But whoever’s on the turret will be exposed. I won’t take that chance.”

“What should I do, stop?” Makara asked. “They’re faster than us.”

“Is there a good position nearby?”

“No,” Makara said, with a sigh. “It’s all flat out here. There’s some dunes farther east, but we won’t make it in time.”

“Just stop. And be ready. Let’s see what they want.”

Makara slowed the Recon. It took a couple minutes for the bikers to catch up, the roar of their engines growing louder as they neared. They encircled the Recon.

Finally, their engines were cut. No one moved. One of the men motioned us to come out.

“Stay here,” Samuel said. “I’m going out to meet them.”

“Sam,” Makara said. “I won’t let you go alone.”

“You’re needed to drive in case things go wrong. No need to risk more than one life. If it’s alright, you guys can join me.”

Before anyone could protest further, Samuel stepped outside. His form was lost in the dust the bikes had kicked up. I didn’t know if he was brave or stupid.

“Stubborn,” Lisa said.

Slowly, the fine dust settled back into the land, revealing Samuel talking to a bearded, tattooed man astride a black chopper. All the bikes were remnants of the Old World, and these had seen more miles than they were designed for. They were dusty, beaten, and definitely looked the worse for wear. Still, any sort of bike was a prized possession.

Samuel turned, signaling us to come out. I exited the Recon and stood beside Samuel. The biker leader, whom Samuel faced, had a long red beard that came down to his chest, and a pockmarked, weathered face. His sunglasses were so dark that I was surprised he could even see out of them.

Makara, Lisa, and Anna stepped out to join us. Makara kept her hand on her handgun and Anna looked ready to draw her katana.

“Don’t,” the man said. “That would be very foolish.”

Slowly, Makara and Anna took their hands from their weapons.

“I am Samuel. This is Makara, Alex, Lisa, and Anna. We need to travel across this land.”

“Anyone who wishes to cross the Boundless must speak to us first.”

“Was it your men who attacked us in the canyon?”

The man shook his head. “No. There are those who dwell in the Boundless that attack anyone on sight. We are not savages.” The man paused. “You have told me you need to travel through our lands, but not why. There is nothing in the east but the Great Blight. Your course will take you there within two days. What then?”

“We mean to head east,” Samuel said. “Across the Great Blight.”

The man gave a bitter laugh. “You are fools. Even before you reach the border, you will meet the crawlers.”

“It is our mission,” Samuel said.

“And what mission is this, might I ask?”

There was nothing for Samuel to do but tell the truth. “I’m sure you have noticed the infestations plaguing the land, among which the Great Blight is the largest. We mean to stop them.”

The man’s brows knit together as he leaned forward. “Really. And how would crossing the Great Blight, a span of a thousand miles, achieve this aim?”

Samuel explained what the xenovirus was and how it worked. He said that we were all scientists (more than a slight exaggeration) trying to discover a way to stop it, and that we thought Bunker One contained information that might help us. The man listened the entire time, not saying a word, his expression switching from incredulity to curiosity.

When Samuel was done, the man nodded slowly. “You certainly don’t look like Raiders.” He looked at the women. “These three do. They have their dress.”

“I am their security and guide,” Anna said. “Along with Lisa here. Char of Raider Bluff sanctioned this mission.”

“Char,” the man said, with a low, threatening growl.

“You know him?” Makara asked.

“Yes,” the man said. “What has become of him?”

“He has his plate full, that is for sure,” Samuel said. “There will be war with the Empire soon.”

The man gave a soft, grim laugh. “I hope my brother can survive their onslaught.”

My eyes widened in surprise. At first I was skeptical – but I saw that the man and Char were around the same age and shared many of the same features – broad chin, dimples, a solid frame.

“Char has never mentioned having a brother,” Makara said.

“That does not surprise me,” the man said. “I am Marcus, and we are the Exiles. Twelve years ago, we split from the Raiders over a disagreement. We were the loser of that controversy, so we were exiled to the Boundless. We were much greater in number, once. Now we are only thirty-two. I am surprised we are that many. This is a harsh land, and there is no mercy for the weak.”

“What was the disagreement about?” Samuel asked.

“It was long ago, but it changed Raider Bluff forever, into what it is today. Twelve years ago the Raiders blew up Hoover Dam, causing a flood. It wiped out many settlements along the river.”

“Why did they do that?” I asked.

“There was a rival city of Raider Bluff, across the water on the Colorado’s western shore,” Marcus said. “It was called Rivertown. The Raiders believed blowing up the dam was the easiest way to destroy them. What they didn’t foresee, however, was just how much death there would be. Char was young at the time, and brash. He was for the plan, and was chosen to lead the group that destroyed the dam. I fought with him to keep him from going. We fought, and in my rage, I threw him into the fireplace. He landed face first.”

No one said anything in the silence that followed. Char had received his burn from his own brother, no less.

“It is no wonder that we are out here,” Marcus went on. “I was exiled. But I did not go alone. Fifty Raiders followed me into the desert. It was our intent to cross the country and begin a new city. We wanted to settle on the Mississippi, far to the east.

“We never made it that far. We were attacked by crawlers halfway there. Many died in the attack, and there was nothing we could do but turn back. We tried to cross, once more, years later, but the Blights barred our path. In the north, we were locked in by cold and snow; in the south, by the Empire, who promised us passage in exchange for military service.” Marcus shook his head. “They did not keep their word.”

“Raider Bluff is different,” Makara said.

“I swore a time would come in which they would need us. And I still believe that. I am too proud to return. We are the Exiles.” Marcus paused. “Raider Bluff will lose against the Empire. Anyone who stands against them will fall. Their army numbers in the thousands. They already control much of Mexico, and are extending their way north.”

“Where did they come from?” Makara asked.

“When Ragnarok fell, the world became colder, as you know. The people went south. Mexican, American, it didn’t matter anymore. What few survived banded together. The climate changes were kinder to Mexico than the United States. The land there is temperate, good for crops, and there are still many untapped resources and plenty of water. It is not like here. For the decade after Meteor, hundreds of city-states flourished, on the coasts, on the rivers, in the forests. They warred and fought, their wealth fueled by slavery, guns, and bullets. When one city lost, they became the thrall of another.

“But then the Empire came, based in the city of Nova Roma. It was once a collection of huts on a series of hills, like the Rome of old. Perhaps by borrowing their name, they hoped to capture some of the magic. But their people were strong, and they subjugated their neighbors, led by a man calling himself Augustus. Instead of enslaving their neighbors, they annexed them, upsetting the normal balance. More people flocked to the Empire as they gained wealth and power. The Empire offered safety, comfort, law in a land of lawlessness. Soon, half of Mexico was theirs, and any who challenged them faced slavery, or worse.

“And now, with most of former Mexico in their sure grip, they are turning their eye north.”

“Why?” Samuel asked, intent on Marcus’s answer.

“Do you not know? They seek the Bunkers.”

“The Bunkers?” I asked. “Why would they want them?”

“The Empire is very interested in any technology they can acquire. And not just technology, but information. There are weapons, vehicles, fuel, supplies, medicines, all of which can simply no longer be made. And it’s all for the taking, whether or not covered by Blights. They’ve already raided the Bunkers close to home, but their main prize is Bunker One...and if it weren’t for the hostility of the environment, they would have raided it long ago.”