by Jim Stein
Though technically the station’s supply clerk, Meg was our backbone of operations. Back before the desert moved in, she’d coordinated more than just advertising, because radio’s main job was attempting to stitch together the country’s failing infrastructure and logistics.
“Where do we stand on transportation?” I asked. “We’ll need people haulers to get this many out on short notice.”
“Way ahead of you. Public Works raided the container ships. We pulled a fleet of buses out of storage, replaced all the rotting parts, and are installing oversized fuel tanks. A lot of folks want to use their personal vehicles when we leave. We’ve got one small fuel truck lined up too, which should keep everyone running for the foreseeable future. I’ll have a full list to you in two days.”
“Wednesday works.” I nodded my approval and turned to Manny, but had to smile at the couple of inches Meg gained as she stood taller, though she still only came up to my shoulder.
“Red Team engagements have picked up.” Manny said. “In addition to the evacuations, we’re called out daily to handle unwanted guests. Mostly aggressive flora and fauna, but we’ve had to drive off two-legged things my guys call shamblers.”
“People?”
“Unclear.” Manny shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that had me grinding my teeth and counting to ten. “Engagements are brief and fierce. My people focus more on staying alive than taking notes.”
Red Team was a half-dozen strong with a mixed bag of firepower, a combination of magic and mundane weapons. As Double-M Records’ assigned road manager, Manfred Slack had been a thorn in my side—and vice versa—on the A-Chords’ concert tour. With his slick black hair, dark eyes, and angular good looks, I’d considered him a thirty-year-old punk with way too much interest in my girlfriend. But Manny’d proven more than capable in a fight and helped us out of a tight spot back in Milwaukee, an act that put him at odds with his superiors. Some faction of the “Company” was tied into the dark forces that plagued me and my friends. I didn’t like Manny, wasn’t sure why he’d stuck around after the tour, but I trusted the man and his strange abilities.
Trust aside, my temples throbbed at the unwelcome news. “Blue Team?”
“You were there,” Quinn said, then seemed to remember her report was for the benefit of the others.
“Market section is clear. We got twenty-seven out by the skin of our teeth before the dune rolled in.”
She summarized the operation, including the horde of scorpions and the new creatures we’d dealt with. I shivered at the memory in spite of the broiling office. With a little help from my sister’s ever-present library of reference books, we discovered the giant desert centipede has some of the most debilitating and painful bites in the animal kingdom. It was mind-numbing to consider taking venom from the fifteen-foot monster we’d fought. Billy must have seen the sweat popping out on my forehead. He propped the front doors open, and a knife of cool evening air sliced into the room as Quinn finished her account.
“So the sand is definitely accelerating.” I read off the reports Mr. Conti handed me as Quinn drew the shrinking boundaries on the map pinned to the wall.
“Three blocks in the last two days.” Charles scratched his chin, sounding more reflective than worried.
I nodded into the silence, as several of us realized we might not even have a week.
“Best we can do is be ready. Meg, let’s use those private vehicles as a supply train. Distribute food and essentials that don’t fit on the buses. Round up some camping gear too and have everything non-perishable ready to go on a few hours’ notice.” I turned to Manny. “You’ve got experience with things like these. Will they follow us?”
I suspected Manny was deeper into the supernatural than any of us. He definitely had dealings with the Dark Court through Double-M. I wasn’t even certain the man was strictly human. We’d seen all sorts of creatures use illusion or glamour to disguise themselves.
“If I had to guess…” a shadow fell across his handsome face. “I don’t think so. They seem protective of the desert area and don’t stray from the shifting dunes. If everyone can keep off the sand, we should be safe enough.”
Nods from around the room agreed. I was glad to see Manny took the question seriously instead of in his usual flippant way. Though it worried me too. I’d suspected this was another ploy by the dark forces lined up against Kokopelli.
Having the ancient Native American deity as my biological father gave me my regal nose and control of the elements, but it also invited danger. Specifically, Koko’s penchant for seeing the human race survive and his efforts to father children like myself who were immune to the ravishes of the C-12 virus did not sit well with the Dark Court. It was a touchy and complex topic, but I’d spent the better part of a year learning to control my inherited magic to fend off evil creatures that had no desire to see mankind “saved.”
Even the forces of light weren’t fully behind Koko’s scheme. None of them had come to our aid when my siblings and I were overrun by nightmare creatures. To top it off, a third faction called the Neutral Council was so wrapped up in their non-interference policy that they’d commanded me not to train the Brights, my half-brothers and half-sisters—Kokopelli’s other children—who had come out of the woodwork to enjoy the A-Chords’ music. Of course, I’d blown off that commandment.
I kept hoping all parties would realize mankind’s survival was a win for everyone. After all, no people to suffer and coerce meant no sustenance for the things that fed on us. Manny himself proved that in spite of Dark Court politics people were capable of thinking for themselves. Yet he insisted these desert creatures weren’t sent by the Dark Court, which raised new questions.
“Good advice. Stay off the sand, but don’t count on the critters keeping to their side. Blue and Red teams will schedule the last three extractions. Keep everyone else focused on packing essentials for the big road trip. We’ll get the vehicle fleet ready and rations stowed. What am I forgetting?”
“Radios,” Billy said. “At some point we’ll be clear of this freak interference and need to find a landing spot.”
“Medicine and first aid kits.” Mr. Conti flashed a good-natured grin. “We’ll have everything from diabetes to arthritis to manage. In addition to prescription refills, we need antibiotics and supplies to handle injuries. We aren’t all youngsters.”
The C-12 virus left the world with abandoned cities, collapsing infrastructure, and a severe drop in population and birth rates that drove the average age steadily upward. The boss’s thought also had me worried about our driving situation, but I trusted Meg to make certain we didn’t have anyone behind the wheel who shouldn’t be there.
“That’s going to mean a raid on Bryn Mawr hospital. Your mom—” Quinn broke off with a little gasp.
My adoptive parents worked on the far side of the sand. Dad’s job at the census bureau kept him working late and nursing kept Mom plenty busy. They’d been on the other side of town when the sand cut New Philly in half. I hadn’t spoken to my parents since the phones died.
“We’ve lost enough people trying to cross that drift. Hit the drugstore and clinic for medical supplies on this side of town.” The whine of an engine drifted through the open doors. “If anyone comes up with other things we need, let Meg know and we’ll build it into the plan.”
The obnoxious engine noise drew closer—definitely not a car. The pitch was higher and crazy loud, like the thing had no muffler and was rattling up and down between gears on an engine made of chainsaws.
“Holy crap!” Jinx leaned out the door and waved us over.
We piled outside as a silver and blue all-terrain-vehicle careened toward us. The erratic exhaust note bounced off abandoned buildings along Delaware Avenue as the rider steered his vehicle in a drunken zigzag, skipped up onto the sidewalk, and clipped a streetlamp. We scattered as the ATV skidded to a stop in front of the station.
Thick leathers covered the rider from head to toe, their face hidden ben
eath a silver helmet matching the filthy quad-runner. The engine cut out, and the rider slumped over the handlebars, fueling a flash of annoyance that someone was drinking and joy riding. Then the torn clothing and silver star on the dented tank registered.
Quinn and I rushed forward, helped get the helmet off, and lowered the man to the sidewalk. The round face had thinned and those soft brown eyes hardened since the last time I’d seen Deputy Cochran. Normally tight-cropped hair hung to his thick eyebrows in greasy strands. The sun had baked his neck a deep red-brown beneath pale features. He licked cracked lips and tried to speak, but only managed a dry croak.
“Water for the deputy!” Quinn shouted.
Meg handed her a bottle so fast it made us both blink. Normally, the man groomed and dressed with military precision that would impress even Charles. It was difficult to recognize him under the scruffy beard and grime, but this was definitely Deputy Vance Cochran. I wiped my hands. Sandy grit came away with the dirt and darker stains
“He’s hurt, help me get his gear off.”
“I’m okay.” Vance gurgled as he gulped down water and tried to push us away.
Meg appeared with a fresh bottle and a first aid kit, making me seriously wonder if she had some sixth sense. I stepped back and let the women work. Even through the heavy gear he’d picked up abrasions, slices, and a few missing chunks that looked suspiciously like bites. A solid ten years older than me, Vance was one of the Sheriff’s sharper officers. Though small, the entire police force had been cut off on the far side of town.
“You crossed the sand!”
“Yeah.” He poured the last bit of water over his face and started on a third bottle.
“But…” The dented ATV, his torn clothes—it made sense. Except the man looked like he’d just finished a cross country race rather than crossing a mile of dunes. “How long were you out there?”
“Not sure.” Finally sated, Vance let the half empty bottle rest on his chest as Quinn bandaged a nasty gash on his right calf. “Left Sunday.”
“A whole day out there.” Billy sat on the sidewalk next to Vance, which was a nicer gesture than towering over him.
“Seemed longer.” Vance screwed up his face and took another sip. “Left on the 4th.”
That was a week ago.
3. Teaming up
“W
E HAVE to warn them!” Vance levered himself up to a sitting position on my leather couch.
In addition to suffering from exposure, the man hadn’t slept in days. Once we peeled him out of his riding gear and got his wounds bound, he fell into a near coma on the drive back to my house. I still had a bunch of Mom’s supplies handy and plenty of space.
A night of sleep, more water, and food did wonders to restore his energy. Piper and I stayed with him while Quinn headed in to cover the morning reports. My sister took a seat by the fireplace. Her long red hair framed green eyes that bored into Vance with fanatic intensity. Piper had been obsessed with the occult since birth. Current events stoked her passion higher. Even though she had no magical abilities, her research continued to prove valuable in dealing with supernatural forces.
Piper scribbled in her ever-present notebook as Vance recounted his impossibly long journey across town. Despite hauling spare fuel, he was on his last tank by the time he careened down Delaware Avenue to escape the drifting sand. Sun streamed through the blinds, chasing the lingering chill from the family room as he finished. It was going to be another scorcher out there, but I was more worried about what our guest was saying about the people stuck on the north side of town.
“They can’t think this is a natural phenomenon.” I’d been jaded by supernatural overload, but no one could believe the creatures coming out of the desert were normal critters.
“The sheriff was good at keeping everyone calm.” Vance sat up with a wince and rubbed his right thigh above the bandages. At six-foot, he was just a tad shorter than me and we were about the same build. I’d lent him a pair of shorts and my old Metallica tee-shirt. “Even when communications went down, he wrote it off as sun flares, which sort of made sense given the unseasonable heat.
“Of course none of us could explain the sand, but Sherriff Connolly warned everyone to keep back, especially as it started to grow. We nuked the hell out of those strange plants and the…insects. I mean tankers full of herbicide and pesticide. It helped for a while. But Ed, have you seen what else is out there!”
He throttled down a note of panic, threw back his glass of water, and fell into silent appraisal of the toast and eggs sitting on the side table. Dealing with the unknown was hard enough. Add in creatures no sane person would believe existed and compact the experience into a few short weeks—it was a miracle we hadn’t all gone insane.
Vance was tough, but cracks showed through his sanity. Months ago, he’d come to help when Quinn and I had been trapped in a mudslide orchestrated by the dark forces. He’d sifted through the shattered remnants of our attackers, thinking it to be unearthed garden statuary. The deputy was made of sterner—yet more flexible—stuff than the average citizen. I came to a decision, hoping my logic was sound. Time was short, but if this didn’t work, it could break instead of help heal him.
“Do you remember the night we got stuck in the mud down by the river?” I continued at his cautious nod. “The footprints and broken stonework?”
“Ed?” Piper’s voice quavered, but I held up a hand.
“Even back then?” Vance massaged his temples. “They weren’t statues, were they?”
“No.” Did I really want to do this? “Can I show you something?” In response to his weary nod, I crossed the room and called up the stairs. “Pina, would you come down?”
I’d started off in my colonial two-story alone. The place didn’t feel as lonely after my sister moved in and had really shaped up with the addition of Max, the wonderful big black mutt I’d rescued. Max was gone now, too brave and loyal for his own good in a crazy world of magic and monsters. But Quinn still lived with us and so did my best friend from among the magical folk. Pina bounced down the stairs, taking them two at a time and holding the rail to keep it from hitting her head.
The forest sprite stood better than two-and-a-half feet tall, with lustrous blond hair and porcelain skin. Though small, her perfect features and emerald eyes had captivated me, even flaring with anger at my ignorance when I first approached her lord Kokopelli. Now Pina stayed in the blue “bedroom” with the diamond window, a room we humans referred to as the hall closet. But it fit her diminutive size and needs.
I used to think of her as living with us, back before we lost Max. My big, goofy dog loved to sleep over in Pina’s tiny bedroom. I’d hear her chatting away with him late into the night. But the nights were quiet now, the house more somber without furry tumbleweeds and drool spatters to contend with. And Pina was gone more than not nowadays, either off to visit Koko or her own people.
“Hi, Edan. Who’s our guest?”
Pina radiated exuberance. It was one of her talents, along with illusion and who knew what else. She often projected her calming influence to soothe Koko when he was overtaxed. Vance’s eyes flew wide as she entered the room, but her effervescent nature, openness, and possibly a touch of power put the man at ease almost instantly.
“Vance Cochran at your service. Pina, is it?” He smiled despite his ordeal.
“Oh honey, you’re all beat up!” Pina took the hand he offered and hopped up on the couch. “Ed, how’d he get hurt?”
“Got lost in the dunes. We’re still trying to puzzle out how he spent a week crossing town.”
“There’re a lot of strange things out there. It’s all a blur: giant bugs, walking trees, huge creatures and little…” Vance trailed off and studied Pina.
“You poor baby.” The sprite patted his hand, either not noticing or ignoring how the man scrutinized her. “What can we do to help?”
He blinked at Pina for another minute, gave his head a little shake, and looked to Piper and
me. “I already feel a hundred percent better. But people need to know what’s going on. If others try to cross or those things wander out into the city, there’ll be hell to pay. People just aren’t prepared. They need to arm themselves.”
“We’ve been organizing and evacuating toward the river, but we’re running out of room to maneuver on our side. The sand keeps flowing south, and we’re getting ready to leave the city.” I saw his back stiffen and raised a hand to forestall any argument about making a stand. “We’ve got more resources than anyone, but it’s a lost cause. You need to understand what we’re up against. Piper, bring Ralph up.”
We sat in tense silence, while my sister hunted in the basement for our other houseguest. A moment later, she clomped up the steps with Ralph trailing behind and clutching a marshmallow in the talons of his left hand. The quiet room dropped into an icy, brittle stillness.
“You brought one here!” Vance pressed back into the couch as Piper and Ralph stepped farther into the room. “He’ll bring the hordes down on us. My god, you don’t have the giant ones too, do you?”
The imp’s barbed tail lashed as he looked up at Pina. Ralph stood shorter than the sprite. Where Pina was a picture of beauty, Ralph was…less so. His hairless body rippled with oddly placed muscles beneath gray-green skin, and bat ears perched high on his elongated head. Although he could communicate with Pina’s people, how much English our imp understood remained a mystery. I was afraid he’d take offense at Vance’s attitude, but he simply dusted the marshmallow off against his cutoff jeans and took a bite, which unfortunately drew attention to his formidable fangs.
Vance made a choking sound, seemed about to speak, then clutched at the hand Pina slipped into his. Waves of serenity flowed from the little woman. Vance’s frantic breathing slowed, and his face gradually relaxed so there were no longer white rings around his eyes. I gave Pina another minute to work, then explained.
“Ralph is a friend, an imp from the old world. He’s here by mistake and we want to get him home. We know what’s coming in from the desert, but not why. Our teams are better prepared than anyone to deal with this. We can fight fire with fire, but it isn’t worth risking lives over.”