Lost Angel

by Kyle West

  That alone seemed noteworthy to Makara. There was law and order here, unlike the ruins she’d just come from.

  She walked up to the largest building she could find, made from two floors rather than one, and looking less shabby from the rest. A sign was painted over its front door: Town Hall.

  Makara opened the door and walked inside.

  THERE WAS NO ONE INSIDE as Makara walked up to the empty desk ahead of her. She began rummaging through it, seeing if there might be anything useful to pilfer.

  A throat cleared from behind her.

  Makara turned to see an old lady with a bun and faded floral dress looking at her severely.

  “Can I help you with something, dear?” Only now did she notice Makara’s armament. “Dear heavens!”

  “Don’t worry,” Makara said, feeling bad for giving the old lady a scare. “I won’t shoot you as long as no one in this town tries to hurt me.”

  “I see,” the woman said, leery. “Well, Mayor Bliss does well in keeping the rule of law here. You don’t have to walk in here guns a-blazing just to defend yourself.”

  “Huh,” Makara said, as if the concept were foreign to her. “I’ve been told that a Mayor Bliss can tell me where Ohlan Rogers went. I have a message for him.”

  “Ah,” the old lady said. “I’m his secretary. Ohlan passed through here a few months back. He took some of our folk with him, to start a new settlement in the Wasteland.” She shook her head disapprovingly. “Mayor Bliss will not remember him too fondly.”

  “I need to find Ohlan,” Makara said. “It . . . it was his brother’s dying wish.”

  “Oh, dear. Well. Have a seat there and I’ll go fetch the mayor for you. I’m sure he’ll appreciate whatever news you have of what’s going on out west.”

  Makara just did that, settling down in the chair to take a load off, while not totally letting down her guard. The old lady left, and a few minutes later returned with a middle-aged man wearing glasses and a gray mustache.

  “This is her, then?” he asked.

  The old lady nodded. “Yes. I didn’t catch her name.”

  “Makara,” she said, simply.

  “Makara,” he said. “You look a little older than my daughter.” He looked at her guns cautiously, but didn’t ask her to hand them over, for which Makara was thankful. “I hear you’re asking after Ohlan Rogers.”

  Makara could see the mayor didn’t like Ohlan very much just from his tone, which immediately raised her opinion of him.

  “I’m not doing it by choice,” she said. “His brother wanted me to pass on the message that he had died. For that, though, I need to know where Ohlan headed.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to telling you what I know if you can let me know what’s going on in L.A.”

  Makara shrugged. “Sounds fair.”

  The mayor gave a satisfied nod, at last taking up a spot behind the central desk across from Makara. “Oh, I’d say he passed through here several months back. Persuasive fellow. We had to kick him out, but that didn’t stop a lot of our people from following him. Why they’d follow him out into the Wasteland, I don’t know. Said he’d found a good water source, well-hidden. Don’t know how he knew that. Apparently, they’ve set up quite the town out there.”

  “Where did they go?” Makara asked.

  “From what I gathered, they found a source of water to the northeast, at a place they’re calling Oasis,” the mayor said. “Said he had some schematics and parts to get an old machine there working again.”

  “Why would people follow him in the first place?” Makara asked. “This place doesn’t look half bad.”

  “It wouldn’t be half bad, if it weren’t for those Reapers,” the mayor said. “People are scared of them, and Ohlan said they’d lick us if we didn’t follow him out there and start fresh.”

  Makara nodded at that. When the time came, she had no doubt that Carin Black would crush this place like a bug. She didn’t express that opinion, though.

  “Now, I wouldn’t mind pointing you in the right direction,” Mayor Bliss said. “If you give me some information as well.”

  “A nice meal, too,” Makara said. “And maybe some supplies to make the journey.”

  “Sure, sure,” the mayor said, amiably. “Jaz, why don’t go find this young lady a warm lunch?”

  “Sure,” Jaz said, after a moment’s hesitation. She was probably wondering why she had to cater to a teenager, but she wasn’t going to disobey the mayor.

  “Now,” Mayor Bliss said, sitting down behind the desk finally, “you came from the west, that much I can see. What’s going on that way?”

  Makara told him the news, such as she figured it. She left out the parts about Raine and her brother, of course, but basically communicated that the Lost Angels were all but done for. She was surprised how cold and controlled her voice was as she related it. It scared her, even, but she couldn’t allow any of those feelings to get in the way. She didn’t want the mayor to think she was an Angel, too. She didn’t want to volunteer any information about herself.

  The mayor listened with a scrutinizing expression, twisting his mustache while his thick brows scrunched up in the middle of his forehead. To Makara, he looked soft and intellectual. She didn’t know how a man like him could survive so long. There must have been something about him that she just wasn’t seeing.

  When Makara’s food came, she ate it ravenously: chicken, corn, and beans, all covered generously with a spicy gravy. Within minutes she was full and licking her plate clean. Prosperous place, too, if they could afford to feed a stranger such rich fare.

  “Guess they don’t cook like that out west, huh?” the mayor asked.

  Makara nodded, eating until while gesturing the mayor to continue talking.

  “Well, I’d say you earned it,” Mayor Bliss said. “The news you shared has me worried, to say the least.”

  “What about Ohlan?” Makara asked, wanting to get down to business.

  “You don’t waste time,” the mayor said. “Well, some of the men are saying he was headed due north of here, once you got past the mountains. Say, you don’t intend to go out there all on your own?”

  Makara felt a sliver of doubt, but then she remembered what Raine had said: to find Ohlan. He would have never told her to do that if he thought the task impossible. “I’ve got no choice, Mayor.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “I see. Well, at least stay the night, Makara, and I’ll even make sure you have a good breakfast to see you on your way.”

  “I’d like that,” Makara said.

  Mayor Bliss invited Jaz back in, who had been waiting outside during the meeting.

  “What’s the verdict?” she asked. “If she’s to stay here, I wouldn’t mind taking her down to the schoolhouse. Penelope should still be there.”

  “She’s heading to Oasis,” Mayor Bliss said.

  Jaz looked at him as if he were crazy. “Mayor, that’s got to be a hundred miles, and that’s supposing the fools aren’t all dead by now. How do you expect a young girl to make it all that way?”

  “I get the feeling Makara here won’t take no for an answer,” he said. “I would honor Raine Rogers’ dying wish.”

  “But for a girl to go out there, with the cold and the raiders and the dust storms . . .”

  “She won’t go alone,” the mayor said. “I’ll send Jack and Elliott with her, good men both. They’ll see her safely there.”

  Makara cringed at that, and felt a bit of a panic. “There’s no need for that, Mayor.”

  “Nonsense,” he said. “I’d be remiss.”

  “I can do it on my own,” she said, dangerously. “I won’t take anyone with me.”

  The two adults shared a troubled glance, but they saw that she really meant it.

  “Stubborn child,” Jaz said, crossing her arms. “You’ll die out there on your own.”

  So be it, Makara said, but Makara didn’t trust having anyone she didn’t know coming with her.

&nb
sp; “Well, it’s improper,” the mayor said. “But if she’s made it all this way on her own . . .”

  Makara hadn’t mentioned the three men she’d killed just getting here. She had hoped she wouldn’t have to.

  “I can tell she’s tough,” Jaz said, uncertainly. “Certainly, she’s that.”

  “I’ll have my breakfast at six a.m., if it please you,” Makara said, standing up. “Do you have a place I can lay down and catch some sleep? This porch would do just fine.”

  Both adults seemed aghast at the suggestion.

  “You can stay with me, dear,” Jaz said, in a tone brooking no argument. “I can’t stop you from heading out and finishing your errand, but the least you can do is get a good night’s rest in front of a fire.”

  That sounded good to Makara, even if the old lady wanted her to stay behind and not finish her mission.

  “I’d feel better about that, too,” the mayor said. “If you must do this, Makara, then neither of us will stop you. Just remember us when you’re done. You’ll have a safe place here. I don’t much trust that Ohlan, even if some of our own were foolish enough to follow him.”

  “I’ll remember that, Mayor,” Makara said. She would have liked nothing more than to stay on a little longer. Misguided as they were, both the mayor and his secretary seemed to be good people. Last Town might be a place she could let her guard down a bit, but that could only come after she delivered her message to Ohlan.

  Makara was led out of the town hall and set up in Jaz’s home, a wooden cabin that was well-made on the east side of town. It was humble, being only a couple of rooms, but it was far more luxurious than anywhere Makara had ever lived. She plopped her pack in the corner and sat in front of the fire, warming her hands.

  “My husband’s name was Edgar,” Jaz said, once both were inside. “Built this cabin with timber from the mountains, and helped James build the town and its walls.”

  “James?”

  “The mayor.” She smiled down at Makara. “It’s been lonely without my husband, so it’ll be nice to have company.”

  Makara felt nothing at Jaz’s sentimentality. She didn’t know how to handle it. “I think I’m going to sleep now.”

  “All right,” Jaz said. “I’ll come back around nightfall. Might make a warm, nice stew.”

  Makara nodded, and Jaz closed the door behind her.

  She stared into the flames for a while, seeming to see in them the destruction of Los Angeles, a city already destroyed. This new reality she found herself in, this peaceful cabin, seemed like another life. Something unreal. She held her hand in front of her and was surprised to feel it shaking.

  Samuel. Raine.

  She pushed their names from her head. They were dead, now. There was no use mourning what you could never get back.

  She closed her eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come, not for a long time. She saw them both and felt the guilt that she had been the one to get away.

  Your purpose is not over. You must survive. Your purpose is not over. You must survive. Your purpose is not over . . .

  Makara slept, the refrain resonating in her mind.

  Chapter 47

  JAZ RETURNED THAT EVENING and fixed up the stew. Makara had been facing the wall and crying but stopped almost as soon as she heard the old woman’s steps on the porch.

  She dried her face and pretended to be asleep. When Jaz called her to dinner half an hour later, the old woman could tell that something was wrong.

  “Your face is all puffy, dear. Have you been crying?”

  Makara shook her head vehemently. “Just tired.”

  She accepted a bowl of potato soup and began eating gratefully. It had good flavor, with bits of bacon, onion, and garlic in it.

  “Soup’s always welcome on these cold evenings,” Jaz said, making conversation. “When I was your age, it was never cold like this here, especially this time of year. But of course, after the Rock fell . . .”

  Makara nodded. She’d heard it all before. The meteor dust would keep it cold for decades more. To this day, Makara had never seen the full brightness of the sun, and none but the brightest of stars and planets shining at night. The dust wasn’t expected to settle for decades at least, and more likely centuries.

  By then, she figured, what was left of humanity would be dead. She ate another mouthful of stew.

  “I’m here, if you need to get anything off your chest, Makara.”

  Makara shook her head. “I’m fine, Jaz. I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful. I am. It’s hard to talk about stuff and I don’t think it’ll help, to be honest.”

  Jaz considered for a moment. “I understand. Remember what James told you. There’s a home for you here. You can stay as long as you like.”

  Makara nodded, and tried not to let her emotions show. “I’ll remember that. I have to do this, though. For Raine.”

  Makara left it at that. She helped Jaz to wash the bowls and stoke the fire, and after that, Jaz read out of a book for her. Makara listened to a story from a time she would never understand or know, something about a group of kids trying to solve a crime. It was hard for her to believe that those kids were the same age as her. The way they talked about death made it seem as if they had never actually experienced it firsthand. The concept was foreign to her.

  She fell asleep a few chapters in.

  WHEN MAKARA AWOKE, it was still dark outside. She got up quickly, started to pack, and heard Jaz stir in her bed in the corner.

  “Leaving already? At least stay for breakfast, I’ll have something ready in a jiff.”

  Makara nodded, and Jaz set to work, cooking some pancakes on a cast iron pan set over the coals. Makara ate while Jaz cleaned up.

  Jaz packed a few more supplies in Makara’s bag, including some homemade granola bars and sandwiches, and made sure her water was topped off. She even gave her a few extra bottles, with the admonition that she should return them one day, so she’d see her again. Makara wanted to refuse, but Jaz insisted, so she promised to bring them back, even though she knew it would probably never happen.

  Last of all, Jaz gave her a heavier coat, dug from deep inside one of the old woman’s drawers. She looked at the coat longingly for a moment, and then gave it to Makara.

  “This belonged to my daughter, Catherine,” she said. She smiled wistfully. “Don’t know why I kept it all these years. She didn’t survive long after the fall. She was about your size.” As Makara looked at it, Jaz said, “Try it on.”

  It was a little loose, but it came with a belt that made it easily cinched up. The extra size would allow Makara to grow into it, or even to store things hidden from others.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Makara said. “Thank you.”

  “It’s dreadfully cold out there,” Jaz said. “Remember to wear layers and to take shelter when a storm comes a-blowing. Grown men die out there from nothing more than the weather. I still have half a mind to stop you, but I can tell you’ll get out of here all the same, lest we tie you up.”

  Jaz smiled to show that this was a joke, but Makara didn’t find it funny.

  “Will the guards let me out?” Makara asked.

  “I can walk with you to the gate,” Jaz said. “In case the mayor hasn’t given the proper orders.”

  Once Makara’s new coat was secure, and her boots laced up, she shouldered her pack and walked out the door.

  Together, they passed through the dark town toward the east gate. Makara could see gray tinging the sky above the wooden walls. Daybreak would come soon, and with it, she could hopefully put a lot of miles toward Oasis.

  Once they reached the gate, Jaz gave some last-minute advice.

  “Be sparing with that water, now. You’ll find a few towns between here and there, mostly safe, if not as safe as here. If you tell them your mission, I’m sure they’ll let you pass on through. Ohlan’s respected out there, so you’ll be under his protection. No one will want to cross him.”

  Makara felt a tinge of fear. Her journ
ey to here from southern L.A. hadn’t been voluntary. Now, though, she was making the choice to leave. If Raine knew that she could have a safe life here, would he have wanted her to stay? Makara pondered the question, but ultimately, she didn’t know the answer.

  All she knew was to honor Raine’s last wishes. Her future, if she had any, was in Oasis. Despite her misgivings about Raine’s brother, she had to deliver the news.

  “If you can find a caravan, join up with it,” Jaz said. “You’ll find them in the towns sometimes, and they’ll let you come along for a few batts or offering your security services, or maybe grooming and taking care of their livestock.”

  Makara nodded. “Got it.”

  “Remember what I told you, child,” Jaz said. “Come back. You’re welcome here and we’ll find a place for you.”

  “Goodbye, Jaz,” Makara said. “You be careful, too. The Reapers are not just going to stop with the Angels.”

  Jaz’s eyes became worried for a moment, but then it was erased by her smile. “Don’t you worry about us. James is a smart man, and I’m sure he knows how to handle the Reapers.”

  Makara felt sorry for her. If Raine and the Angels hadn’t stood a chance, how much worse off would Last Town be?

  “I should go,” Makara said.

  Jaz hugged her, which Makara wasn’t ready for, but she let herself be held for a couple of seconds before wrangling herself free. Jaz signaled the gate guard, and the wooden door rolled back, revealing the dusty road leading into the red desert pockmarked with mesas and hills. Several dilapidated buildings littered the scene, but otherwise, there wasn’t much else besides a whole lot of nothing.

  But it was the start of the Wasteland, and once Makara entered it, little did she know, she would not be returning to this side of the mountains for many years.

  Chapter 48

  MAKARA HAD NEVER FELT more lonesome than at that moment. She felt stupid, too, for having left. How could Raine have expected her to survive out here? He probably hadn’t counted on anyone showing her kindness and mercy, but Makara owed it to him to finish what she and Samuel had promised to do.