Arid

by Joyce, Anne

  “Are you sure about that?” Julio questioned.

  “That’s just what I heard,” Blane said.

  “I sure as hell hope that’s true,” Julio replied.

  “Well, if this thing doesn’t stop dropping fumes on us, we’re not going anywhere,” Joshua said.

  “I know what to do.” Julio picked up a rifle.

  “What are you doing?” Skylar said.

  “Just wait.” Julio raised his hand. “Maria, pull over.”

  The smoke cleared and the plane flew around them once more. Julio grabbed a dust mask and put it over his face “What are you doing?” Paola shrieked.

  “Blane, let me know if you see more smoke.” Julio opened the door and jumped out of the van. “Try to keep your faces covered.” He slammed the door closed. Everyone pulled their shirts over their noses. The crop duster charged toward them. Julio stood poised and ready.

  “Wait… wait…” Blane tapped on the window. A tiny puff of gas leaked from the plane. “NOW!”

  Julio squeezed the trigger. The crop duster picked up speed and increased its altitude. It zoomed away, leaving a red trail. Julio staggered back into the van, pulled off his mask, and fell on his stomach. “Are you all right?” Joshua ran to him.

  Julio wheezed and gasped for air. “He breathed in some of that crap. Cough it up.” Blane patted his back. Julio spewed blood all over the floorboard.

  “Oh my God,” Skylar gasped.

  “Here, drink some of this.” Paola handed him the thermos.

  Julio took a sip and coughed again. “I don’t think I hit it,” he choked.

  “It’s flying away at least,” Maria said.

  “It’ll be back. I can’t miss this time. My lungs are burning.” Julio clutched his chest.

  “Let me try or you’ll be hacking up a lung.” Joshua tied a handkerchief around his face and took Julio’s rifle.

  “Here it comes.” Maria pointed. The crop duster swooped around and headed for them again.

  Joshua stepped out of the van and shut the door. “It’s right beside us, Josh. You could hit the front end from where you’re standing,” Blane shouted.

  “It’s flying higher than before. I need it to get closer. It has to be right behind us,” Joshua called.

  “Josh, do it now! You’re playing with fire!”

  “Just a second.” Joshua watched the plane speed toward the back of the van. “It’s almost close enough… just a little further.”

  “I see smoke!” Skylar yelled.

  “Dammit!” Joshua held his breath and pulled the trigger. He couldn’t tell if he’d hit the plane or the pilot, but he heard clinking sounds and the roar of the plane’s engine as it sped away. His chest and throat felt like he’d swallowed battery acid. He was dazed and disoriented. He stepped into the van and collapsed. He heard his gun clatter on the floor beside him.

  “Josh! Maria cried. “Somebody please tell me he’s okay!”

  Blane and Julio rolled him over. Blood dripped from his nose. “Josh, wake up!” Julio patted his face.

  “Josh, come on. Get up!” Blane shook his shoulders. Joshua’s eyes opened. A spasm of coughs rocked his body. Skylar handed him the thermos.

  “It hurts. I feel dizzy,” he groaned.

  “You must’ve inhaled more of that junk than me.”

  “Did I hit it?”

  They looked up to see the crop duster flying into the horizon. “I think so. It doesn’t seem like it has any intention of coming back.” Blane smiled.

  “Nice job, my friend.” Julio high-fived him.

  “The water barons are making some creative attempts to kill us.” Blane took a seat and wiped his brow with a rag.

  “They’ll get a taste of their own medicine if the resistance succeeds,” Joshua replied.

  “I hope Mexico doesn’t have soldiers like the Purifiers. If I never see one again, it’ll be too soon,” Skylar said.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask how you wound up in prison, Skylar,” Julio said.

  “I escaped from the Purifier base. Brad chained me to a lead pipe in the basement when we got there. He said if I learned to ‘be good’, I could stay upstairs in his quarters with him. I picked the lock with a bobby pin from my hair and climbed the fence. I was almost to Nogales when another platoon spotted me. He put an APB out on me or something. Blane was at the penitentiary by then. I guess they wanted to use me to get him to talk.”

  “What did you do to be bad?” asked Paola.

  Skylar gave her a quizzical look. “You said you’d get to live upstairs if you learned to be good. What made him think you were bad?”

  “Oh… I bit his face really hard on the way to the base,” she laughed. “He stuck his hand in a place it didn’t belong, so I put him in check. I’d almost forgotten about it.”

  “That’s my girl!” Blane patted her leg.

  “There it is!” Maria pointed to a train trudging down the track. “I don’t see the station, though.”

  “I think the train station is in Nogales, Mexico. The railway ends just shy of there.” Joshua stared at the map.

  “You were way off, Julio,” Maria said.

  “It’s not a problem. I see an open boxcar,” Julio replied.

  “Are you crazy?” Paola gasped.

  “This is our best chance at getting away from the airplanes.”

  Maria jerked the van off the road and drove through the bumpy terrain toward the open boxcars. “Get as close as you can,” Blane said. She parked. They gathered their things and hopped out.

  “Let’s go!” Julio threw his rifle over his shoulder and started running. Maria picked up Paola and jogged beside him. Skylar and Joshua caught up to them. Blane lagged behind. “Hurry, Blane, quit dragging your ass!” Julio called.

  “I’m coming,” Blane panted. Skylar stopped to wait for him.

  “Look!” Paola shrieked. They turned to see an airplane in the distance heading in their direction.

  “Not again!” Julio groaned.

  “Why is it coming back? I thought Josh got rid of it,” Paola said.

  “I thought I did too,” Joshua said.

  “Don’t look back. Keep running!” Julio hurled himself at the boxcar and latched onto a metal rod on the door. He tossed his gun on the floor and climbed inside. “Give her to me.” He bent down and opened his arms. Maria thrust Paola at him. He grabbed her and set her on the floor. He grasped Maria’s outstretched hand and pulled her inside. Joshua sprinted alongside them. His lungs burned with every breath, but he tried to ignore it. He took Julio’s hand and jumped on.

  “Move it, Skylar!” Julio shouted.

  “I’m not sure I can do this,” Skylar called.

  “Just jump. I’ll catch you.” Skylar took a flying leap at him. Her foot slipped and her chest hit the car’s platform. She dug her nails into the rotting wood and struggled to hold on. Her feet dragged along the ground.

  “I’m falling!” she screamed. Julio and Maria grabbed her arms and pulled her inside. Joshua lay on the floor, catching his breath.

  “Where’s Blane? He was right behind me,” she cried.

  Blane staggered toward them. His face was pale and his shirt was drenched in blood. “He’s not going to make it,” Joshua gasped.

  “Here it comes!” Paola stared at the approaching plane. Its motor roared like a lion ready to devour its prey.

  “Come on, Blane! I can’t reach you from here. It’s now or never.” Julio grasped the metal pole and leaned forward.

  “You can do it, baby. You’re almost there, just a few more feet!”

  Blane swung his arm at Julio but missed him by a foot. His eyelids drooped and he moved as if his feet were made of lead. Julio and Skylar’s screams sounded distorted, as if they were speaking into a tin can. Joshua stared helplessly as Blane stumbled and landed face first in the dirt.

  “No!” Skylar wailed.

  The train sped away and left him behind. “Dammit!” Julio pounded his fist on the door.

/>   “What happened?” Paola said.

  “He was weak from blood loss. He didn’t have the strength. I’m sure his other injuries made things worse,” Joshua replied.

  “Help me close this door,” Julio said.

  “No! Blane’s still out there! We can’t leave him to die.” Skylar pushed Julio aside.

  “Skylar, if we don’t shut the door, that crop duster’s going to drop another death cloud. Josh and Julio’s lungs can’t take any more,” Maria said.

  Skylar fell to her knees and wept. Maria, Joshua, and Paola pushed the door closed. “Listen to me. We’re not going to just leave him there. As soon as we cross the border, I’ll get my friends to come get him. If they won’t do it, I’ll take their truck and drive back myself.” Julio squeezed her shoulders.

  “What if the crop duster gets him?” she sobbed.

  “He’s lying motionless on the ground. Trust me, they’ll take him for dead. They won’t waste any time or ammo on him.”

  “They could gas your friends.” Skylar wiped her face.

  “If the US is asking for Mexico’s assistance, they want good relations with them. They won’t piss them off by gassing their citizens.”

  Skylar buried her face in Julio’s chest, her sobs muffled by his shirt. “It’ll be okay.” He patted her back.

  “You’re a good man.” She raised her head.

  “So is your husband.”

  “It’s so dark in here,” Paola said.

  “I don’t suppose anyone has a lighter or a flashlight,” Joshua said.

  “I wish,” Maria replied.

  “Hey, who the hell shut the door!” a low voice shouted. An enormous silhouette of a man holding a lantern came into view. He held up the light to reveal a dirty face with broken teeth and a square jaw. “This is my car! Nobody gets on it but me and nobody closes the— “

  Four guns clicked and pointed at him. “Uh… you know on second thought, there’s plenty of room in here.”

  “Put the lantern in the middle of the floor and stay on your side. You’re going to sit down and be silent,” Joshua ordered. The filthy man did as he was told and sat on a bale of hay in the corner.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Terry Pickett broke into a cold sweat. His round face flushed and his heart pounded in his ears. He stared out the window of his luxurious office in disbelief, then grabbed his phone and rang the security desk downstairs. “Pick up, you bastards!” he muttered. No answer. “Dobbs, get in here!”

  “Sir, I called security, and no one answered. I tried the alarm, but it’s not working!” Dobbs burst into his boss’ office.

  They stared at the men in prison garb smashing business windows nearby and looting. Some fought in the middle of the street while civilians marched along with bullhorns and signs spouting their hatred for the water barons.

  “Get the hell out of here! This is private property!” a voice from downstairs shouted.

  “Light them up,” another guard yelled.

  “I don’t know what’s happening, but we need to leave now. We’ll go out the back door. My car is parked just outside.” Pickett grabbed his keys and they headed down the stairwell.

  “Going somewhere?” A man stood at the bottom of the stairs with his arms crossed over his chest and a revolver stuck in the waistband of his jeans. Four others stood beside him, two women, a man, and a child, like rattlesnakes ready to strike.

  “What do you people want? I’m guessing it’s money. My wallet’s in my pocket.” Pickett knew not to move his hands until they understood what he was doing.

  “You think everything’s about the almighty dollar. All you’ve got to do is open your fat wallet and your problems go away. We don’t want your money, asshole!” the tall man barked.

  “That’s enough, Aaron.” Marcus held up his hand. “Your reign is over, Pickett. We’re not going to sit by anymore and let you steal our natural resources.”

  “Who said they’re your natural resources?” Dobbs demanded.

  “They’re everyone’s natural resources! They don’t belong to one class of people.” Danisha stepped forward.

  “You’re going to shoot me? Do you fools think that’ll solve everything? You can just kill one man and get your water back because he controls everything. That’s preposterous! I can’t tell if you’re delusional or just poorly bred.” Pickett sneered.

  “We’ll get to your water mogul friends just like we got to you,” Diane said.

  The sound of gunfire came from across the street. “Get on the ground and put your hands in the air!” a voice shouted.

  “Do you hear that? It’s the sound of your stupid rebel friends getting mowed down by a team of Purifiers. You’re going to wind up just like them. You’re not the first to try to start a rebellion,” Pickett said.

  “I guess you’re right. I can’t argue with your logic.” Rowan shrugged. “In fact, you and your little minion can walk right through this door. We won’t shoot you.” She kicked the back door open. They jumped back to let a horde of escaped prisoners in.

  Pickett’s eyes widened with terror. He bolted up the stairs, crashing into Dobbs and knocking him over. He flew past his subordinate, taking the steps two at a time. A hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him backwards. He toppled down the stairs like a snowman rolling down a hill. His head smacked the bottom step and everything went black. When he opened his eyes, a group of convicts stood over him.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

  ***

  “Thank you all for coming. Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Della Crews, the statuesque blond, stood at the head of the table in the conference room. Light poured through the large, spacious windows, illuminating her sleek, shiny hair and the bright yellow wallpaper. Her fellow members of the Water Coalition took their seats.

  “I know this is an important matter, but I feel a video conference would’ve sufficed. I’m a very busy man.” Mr. Ogata poured himself a glass of water.

  “I understand this is an inconvenience for most of you, but we must have a united front when we meet with the Canadian Prime Minister today. We all know how rich Canada’s water supply is. If they join forces with us, our profits could double,” Della said.

  “I don’t think it’s wise to give foreigners a seat on the board. We have a good thing going here. We don’t need conflict,” a willowy older woman said.

  “We already have a foreign Coalition member.” A man in a Stetson hat pointed at Mr. Ogata.

  “I was born in the United States. My parents were immigrants from Japan.” He glared at Mr. Hatfield.

  “I’m inclined to agree with Ms. Montcliff. What if Canada has an ethical issue? They could start a human rights movement and make things very complicated for us,” a raven-haired woman wearing a black dress that was too tight for her said.

  “I’ve spent hours on the phone with the Prime Minister. I believe ethics are the least of his worries,” Della replied.

  “It still seems like an unnecessary risk,” Mrs. Sartorius countered.

  “We need to look at the big picture! There’s an enormous untapped market and— “

  “What in tarnation is going on?” Mr. Hatfield stood and stared out the window, his tortoiseshell glasses low on his nose. Della crossed the room in three strides and couldn’t believe what she was seeing—a crowd ran down the street like soldiers on a mission. Some were wielding firearms.

  “I’m calling security.” Della grabbed the phone. “Who are those people outside?” she cried when the watchman picked up.

  “We’re not sure, Ms. Crews. McMasters is on the phone trying to reach emergency services,” he said.

  “Find out now! Tell me you’ve at least secured the building!” she shouted.

  “We’re working on it. We manually locked all the windows and doors but the security systems are down. The steel barricade is wide open. We can’t get it to close for anything. We called the company and they said it’s some kind of technical
issue. They don’t know when—”

  Click.

  “Hello? Hello? The phone went dead.” Della slammed it down.

  “I’m calling 911.” Mrs. Sartorius pulled out her cell phone. Glass shattered below them.

  “They’re inside,” Ms. Montcliff gasped. Mr. Ogata jumped up and locked the door. Screams and gunshots came from the lobby.

  “I’m getting a busy signal. I can’t get through!” Mrs. Sartorius said.

  “It’s happening everywhere. It’s a mutiny of some kind,” Mr. Ogata said.

  “Everyone line up behind me against the wall.” Mr. Hatfield pulled his pistol from its holster. He pressed his ear against the wall while the rest of them stood petrified. Della’s heart pounded. They could hear a large, noisy group clomp up the stairs and into the hallway.

  “Here they come!” Ms. Montcliff clasped her hand over her mouth.

  “Shut up!” Mrs. Sartorius hissed.

  BANG!

  They flinched when they heard the door across the hallway splinter and fall. Ms. Montcliff grabbed Mr. Ogata’s arm. He gave her a disgusted look and shrugged her off.

  “Come out come out, wherever you are,” a man’s voice called.

  “We know you’re up here, assholes,” another voice said. The footsteps grew closer. Sweat ran down Della’s rib cage, soaking into her expensive blouse. She could see Ms. Montcliff shaking. The door was torn off its hinges and hit the floor with a loud boom. The mob burst into the room. Hatfield fired. A young man screamed and fell against the wall. The mob scattered. Most of them ran back into the hall.

  A small gray-haired man fired his Glock at Hatfield’s head, piercing his skull. Blood cascaded down his head and neck, soaking his silk shirt. He dropped his gun and collapsed on the floor. Ms. Montcliff screamed. Della felt herself losing control of her bladder as she and the other water moguls threw themselves on the ground and put their hands over their heads. She lay there for a few seconds, her heart pounding before she lifted her head to see the wounded boy close his eyes. A woman leaned over and felt for a pulse. “He’s gone.”

  “What a waste. That boy had a lot of heart.” A tanned, athletic man stepped into the room and motioned for the rest of the crowd to join him.