Brig and I speak at the same time, me a little louder. “She can hotwire that!”
“The only problem then is the gas.”
Brig puts her hand to her face, muttering, “Of course – let me guess, it’s all out.”
“No!” Sledge replies excitedly. “It’s got about a half tank left, so it probably won’t get us all the way there.”
Brig lowers her hand, her dark eyes growing hopeful. “Well,” she replies, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go commit some grand theft auto and get out of this hole! No offense Rose honey…”
She blushes, her pale skin contrasting pink cheeks, quietly replying. “No. Let’s go. Forever.”
Sledge cheers and then calls out loudly, “Shotgun!”
“You’re kidding right?” I ask, rolling my blue-gray eyes at him.
“Dude, I’m serious.” Sledge raises his eyebrow at me. “It’s universal law. Like gravity or something.”
I shake my head and snort. “You’re ridiculous.”
But I notice Rose holding back a smile as she looks down at the ground in admiration.
Making a sideways glance at Rose, as if considering something, I hear Brig “hmmm” under her breath, and then she speaks. “Rose, thank you so much for your help, but I think it would be best if the three of us kept going from here.”
“What?” Sledge blurts out, turning toward Brig. “She can’t stay here! It’s not safe!”
“It’s definitely not safe where we’re heading either,” Brig states indifferently. “She’s better off staying here in the land she already knows. I’m sure she can find family or friends – ones’ that aren’t crazy.”
“No!” Sledge shouts, his face reddening. “She’s coming and that’s final!”
“I don’t trust her,” Brig says.
“She saved me – she cut those ropes Claude had me tied in, and really she saved us if you think about it!”
“I still don’t trust her – I don’t know what she’s dealt with. How twisted her judgment is.”
All this was going on with Rose blushing and looking down at the ground silently, too embarrassed and quiet to mutter a word. I stood there with my mouth wide open as if I were catching flies.
Brig and Sledge both turn to me, fury shining in their eyes.
“What do you think?” They both ask at the same time.
CHAPTER 10
The Moses Lake Mauling
I decide to vote for Rose to come along.
Call it weakness, call it mercy – it just didn’t seem fair for a girl to be out on her own in this place.
And so, we rumble along in a beater 1975 Ford truck, full of more rust than paint, but it has wheels nonetheless and that means less walking, for which I am forever grateful. Sledge did in fact give Rose the passenger seat, and after about a minute of her blushing, she finally climbed in. Brig made Sledge and I sit in the bed of the truck – she said it was so she and Rose could have some girl talk, but I know that’s a boldface lie because A) Brig is less of a woman than I am and B) She has just sat there in silence, smiling with the window down the whole way. And of course, there’s C) Brig wants to keep close watch on Rose.
Every now and then we pass by small settlements that have a cluster of shacks haphazardly built, though as we come bouncing down the road, any hint of humans living in them instantly disappear behind closed curtains and shut doors. Brig says they’re used to hiding, because a vehicle of some kind usually means someone is about to round them all up and rob them blind.
The world’s a lot different.
I finally knock on the back window after an hour and a half of rocky, derelict asphalt roads making the metal of the truck bounce against my butt like it’s a boxer’s punching bag.
“Yo, capitán,” I say rapping my knuckles furiously against the glass. “I think if we go any further, I am going to piss all over Sledge here – the bumps are making my bladder sore. Can we take a pit stop?”
Sledge chuckles, obviously overjoyed about my unhappiness, because she floors the gas, making me collapse to my side.
Brig yells back to us, “No stopping! This thing has its gas light on, so no telling when it’ll give out on us. I’m hoping we can get another half hour knocked out – that makes Vantage about a hundred miles from a place called Moses Lake.”
Denied.
And almost exactly on cue, about a half hour later, the old 1975 sienna brown Ford truck that Farmer Claude had used in his harvesting days, sputters its last mechanized breath. Brig tries to turn it over a couple times with little to no luck, and we’re forced to leave Old Faithful as we named it in our two hours together. It sits silent on the side of a curved asphalt road on a mound of dirt. Maybe we would meet again.
We grab our supplies and head out.
I look around at the surroundings, instantly sure something would attack us.
But everything is quiet.
No skulks.
Deserted buildings
And no bears.
Sprawling before us is Moses Lake, a large mass of black water that on first glance looks like a winding snake biting into its prey. I half-wished I had Moses’ powers right now to split the water in two, because in order to cross the lake, we have to traverse a long bridge that typically would be packed full of cars during noon rush hour. No doubt there would be some danger crossing a bridge that hadn’t been maintained in a very long time. That, and the fact the water may be full of radiation and toxic waste and who knows what else?
I walk toward the bridge cautiously, following a line of Brig and Rose, with Sledge in the rear. It seems like hours as clusters of paper from a nearby print shop swirl around us like tumbleweeds. Every now and then I hear a rustle or thud and fingers stray to the rifle at my side.
A flash of brown and black in the corner of my right eye makes me instantly turn, aiming my rifle, but all I see is a store called “Sam’s Books,” with its windows blown out and a pile of bricks sitting out front. I take another second’s glance, but my nerves are on edge now.
“You okay man?” Sledge says from behind, nearly running into me.
“Yeah,” I reply, lowering the rifle. “Just thought I saw something. But I guess not.”
Three more times it happens, and every time I turn, there’s nothing there. But I’m sure someone, or something is hunting us.
We walk.
But nothing happens.
We reach the long bridge that spans several football fields across the dark lake. Strewn along the length are boxes, crates, and every now and then a truck or car that was left long ago. Nearby, a dump truck sits with the back tipped and gravel spilled all across the ground, so when we walk up to it, the ground becomes slippery. The smell of lake water fills my nostrils.
From behind the truck three figures suddenly appear, blocking the way forward. The two on the sides are skin and bones, and one of them walks like he’s shuffling one of his legs. The other one wears a black eyepatch covering his left eye. The middle guy is a round, fat man, bald on top but has a full, red beard on his chin. He has a grin with several teeth missing, and is wearing some leather armor that’s far too tight for his big belly.
“Beautiful day we’re having isn’t it?” The red-bearded fat man says. “Name’s Charles, and this here is Vern (the eye patch guy) and this one is Frank (the shuffler).”
All four of us stand in a line facing the three men. Brig’s eyes are fierce as she assesses the situation.
She speaks, enunciating each syllable. “Nice to meet you all. We were just passing through to Vantage – don’t mean any trouble.”
Charles laughs a deep, throaty noise. “Oh no trouble at all ma’am. This here is Moses Lake, and you’ll find the survivors who live here are as welcoming as any.” He reaches his hands out, uncovering a revolver strapped to his waist. “As long as you pay our toll, you’re also welcome to use our bridge.”
Brig’s eyes narrow at the man, Rose scooting behind Sledge. Brig says, “What are you talking abo
ut? A toll?” She asks the question with a hint of disgust. “For what exactly?”
Frank, the shuffler steps forward, and speaks. “Well you see, miss. We have to keep this bridge up, keep it clear from skulks and vandals and of course any unsavory people who might want to take your things without your permission.”
“Like you’re doing now?”
Charles speaks again, stroking his beard. “Not at all ma’am. What we’re doing is a simple service, and we just require the funds to provide it. We don’t charge much.”
Brig says, “How much do you charge?”
Vern spits on the ground. Charles replies, “Well, we would have to take at least ten pounds of your rations, one of your firearms you seem to have an abundance of, and one more thing…”
“And what’s that?”
Charles smiles, looking toward Sledge, and replies smugly, “That girl would be a nice cover charge for your return trip I think. So just those three things and you’re all set.”
Rose’s eyes look wildly at Brig, who only stares at Charles like a wild gazelle surveying a lion. Charles shifts his weight resting his hand against his holstered revolver. After a few moments, she says, “We’ll pass thank you. We’ll just find another way around, so good day to you all.”
She turns, and we all follow suit – I wonder why we’re not blasting these guys away Brig style. But just as we turn three more surly types come walking up from one of the rusty old buildings nearby.
Charles waves them over, this time with his revolver in hand. The three men, two skinny white men and a larger black man, saunter over with handguns in front. The four of us circle together like a bunch of wagons, my hand tightening around the barrel of my gun so its against my chest now. Sledge brings out a large rifle that was around his back and Rose brings out Brig’s spare pistol.
Outnumbered.
Eyes darting back and forth, Charles draws a step closer and speaks. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” He fakes clearing his throat. “We need your payment to help protect others, so consider it a donation for the greater good. And just because we had to call in some extra help, your rate just went up – we’ll take the boy too.” He nods over at Sledge, who only spits and curses in his direction.
Sledge says, “You know we’re part of the Sempers – you mess with us and they’ll be hear with all the grenades, guns, and fireworks to blow your town to pieces. You really want that?”
Charles laughs and the rest of the gang follows suit. He speaks, a more serious tone on his lips, “We aren’t afraid of those criminals.” He rolls up his sleeve, where a tattoo of a black eagle on the world sits. “We were all cast out of their tribe, not good enough for them, beaten, bruised, left for dead but look at us now!”
A hearty nod from the other five men and some grunts concur.
Charles then roars and puts his gun against Brig’s head. He says, “We good then – the payment please.”
She inhales. Stiffens her body.
My finger squeezes around the trigger.
We all press back into each other.
The men all aim their guns toward us.
A flash of brown.
Confusion.
Screaming.
From a pile of garbage bags near one of the skinny white men, a large dog roughly the size of a Great Dane dives out with mouth open and fangs bared and latches onto the leg of the man, crushing through his knee cap, a horrible sound like a twig snapping sounds out as he tumbles to the ground.
“What the hell!?” Charles yells out, dropping his gun for just a second.
A second that allows Brig to snatch the revolver out of his hand and place it against his forehead, where he stares blankly.
The skinny white man and the larger black man all try to shoot at the dog that’s now dragging the man yelling at the top of his lungs. Bullets whiz by but none seem to be able to hit the dog.
Sledge takes a shot at Frank’s bad leg, a loud bang deafening our ears nearby. The man cries out and drops to his leg, clutching it as he curls up in a fetal position. Brig clicks the revolver back. Charles closes his eyes. Vern, the eye patch man, drops back a couple steps, unsure of that to do.
I seize the opportunity and smash the butt of my rifle against Vern’s covered eye, which makes a sickening crunching noise like a bag of chips being stepped on. He drops to the ground clutching the side of his head. The skinny white man and the black man turn back toward us, only to find Rose and Sledge already aiming their guns right at their chests.
Brig speaks, “So Charles, if I may call you that.” She jabs the revolver deeper into his large, bald forehead, making the man snort. “I was wondering if my friends and I might get a special discount, you know, this being our first time coming through Moses Lake. I think it’s the least you could do.”
She smirks, winking one of her dark eyes.
Charles tries to grin, but his nervousness only makes his smile crooked.
He speaks, fumbling for words. “Erm..why yes. I think that’s a fantastic idea ma’am.” He chuckles again, nervously. “In fact, if there’s anything we can do for you, why my men and I would be more than happy to oblige.”
Brig smiles, lowering her revolver just slightly, so it’s aimed at his chest. “You’re a man of your word I take it.”
Charles nods feverishly.
“Well I think we have a deal then my friend.” Brig holsters her gun. “We really should be on our way though – we have an appointment with the Sempers that really is life or death.”
Brig smiles again, and I swing my gun back to the side, smiling back at Brig. Trying to search for our dog savior, it was nowhere to be seen. The other two men had run over to their companion whose bone now jutted out from his pant leg and were trying to help carry him to one of the rusty white buildings with a large “Pharmacy” sign on the roof. Charles had bent down to help pick up Frank the shuffler, and walked him toward the pharmacy as well. Poor Vern still laid on the ground clutching his head with the worst headache he probably ever had.
I glance over to Brig who only nods at me. “That’s it then? We’re free to go?”
Brig smiles back, flashing her white teeth widely. “That’s all, kid – welcome to the Wild West. You almost die every day it seems.”
I chuckle and the four of us step over Vern to make our way across the long bridge, the afternoon sun smiling down at us and the blue sky a calm hue of cerulean.
Charles, the fat red-bearded man was right about one thing.
It was a beautiful day.
┈┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈┈
Feet throbbing, I take off my now-worn Adidas, which used to be white at some point, but now had a nice shade of brown-gray. A large blister had formed at some point near my big toe, making a dull ache resonate from my feet.
We had set up camp near a small lake that had been a wildlife preserve, just about ten hours from Vantage – a full day’s march according to Brig. Large puffy clouds like marshmallows were rolling in on the tide of reds and oranges that emanated from the setting sun. Brig had chosen this spot partly because we needed to refill on water, and this lake was actually not all that radiated, which would explain why we could hear a flock of geese honking somewhere in the distance. Even so, Brig had pulled out a small canister and pumped water through it, apparently removing any trace of radiation, since she was worried I wouldn’t be able to handle it since I hadn’t “been broken in properly” - her words.
I was practicing building a fire, trying to properly lean the wood against itself just right to shield the tiny flame from the cool breeze coming in from the north. Brig stood over me, issuing orders every now and then, her personal goal of making me able to survive on my own in the wild.
“Not enough air,” she barks.
“Too much air.”
I groan and barely tap the wood.
“Perfect,” she says, giving me a smug grin.
Sledge walks up with Rose on the side of him, having now put on a gray
hoodie of Sledge’s that said, “Twitch All-Star” across the front with big bold letters by a gold trophy.
“I was thinking,” Sledge begins, staring directly at me. “About our tattoo problem. The Sempers probably won’t allow Rose and Quinn to even get close to their city, let alone help us, so either they have to stay behind, or they come with us if they get the Semper tattoo.”
Brig’s lip twitches, and she speaks, “The Sempers have a machine that does that though, and I’m guessing it’ll be a little odd if you and I ask to borrow it from them and we come back with two strangers who suddenly have tattoos.”
Sledge smirks, his hazel eyes flashing. “But what if we just needed them to have tattoos for say a day or two? They aren’t part of the tribe, so they shouldn’t have a tattoo that’ll never come off again.”
“Okay?” Brig asks, Rose and I watching curiously.
Continuing, Sledge says, “I might know a guy, who’s pretty awesome – AKA me, obviously – who can, with the right dye, make a pretty convincing temporary tattoo.”
Sledge pulls up his jacket sleeve, showing a tattoo covering his forearm that has various video game and pop culture stars mish-mashing together in a battle royale that goes up his arm. Characters like Mario, Link, and more punch and jab each other with stars shooting out of them. It’s actually pretty good.
“I did this one,” Sledge says proudly. “Had some spare time during medic training, so I borrowed the ink gun from a guy named Ed, and here we are.”
Still in awe, I speak. “You think you can do this Sledge? I mean, what would the Sempers do if they found out these weren’t real?”
Again he smiles, though this time its more sinister. “Usually the law is to remove whatever causes the offense. If you steal something, they cut off your fingers. If your arm is covered in a very convincing fake tattoo, symbolic of their tribe. Well…”
I smile back, and a nervous laugh escapes my lips.
Sledge says, “You don’t have to worry though, I got you man. Plus, I gotta take care of my girl Rose here.” He winks at her, making her smile. “We’ll go find the right dye, which just grows somewhere in the hills west – that way you don’t lose your arm in the first week of your new life.”
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