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Lost Angel

Page 23

by Kyle West


  “You ever want to know what Cyrus got me when I was using you as a bargaining tool?” Ohlan asked.

  Makara felt disgust at the question but couldn’t help her curiosity. “What?”

  “Information,” he said. “And tools. That information came in the form of a map that led me to this place. And the tools were specifically ordered to get the water pump here working again. Essentially, for gambling your life and my place in the Angels, I won freedom, and saved a couple of hundred lives. Including yours, Makara.”

  “What do you mean, including mine?”

  “You don’t see it yet? Well, Oasis is your only chance at growing up in a safe place. There aren’t any real water sources for fifty miles all around. For that reason alone, we’re pretty safe from attack, and even if raiders from Raider Bluff made it out this far, they’d be met by the walls manned by my men, who have plenty of ammunition. In the space of a year, we’ve gone from nothing to being top dog. Or close to it.”

  “I don’t want to grow up here,” Makara said. “I’ll take my chances back in Last Town.”

  “The choice is out of your hands, Makara. I won’t let you out. And if you think you can sneak out, well, you’ll be surprised at how hard that’ll be. Besides, why would you want to leave? Last Town is toast. Where else are you going to stay, New Barstow?” Ohlan laughed at that.

  “Shame on you for leaving those poor people behind,” Makara said.

  “They’re dead weight,” Ohlan said. “No one really liked them much, anyway. You have to pull your weight to live here, of course. You can join the kids at the schoolhouse tomorrow.”

  “No,” Makara said.

  “Come on, Makara. Be reasonable. Where are you going to go?”

  Ohlan waited for an answer, and Makara found she didn’t have one. Where could she go? She was all alone in the world.

  All alone, with only Ohlan for protection. It was her worst nightmare. She might as well have died on the way here. That probably would have been a kinder fate.

  How could you do this to me, Raine? Did you even know what you were getting me into?

  She wanted nothing more than to run, but she knew that was impossible. She imagined they’d probably be confiscating her weapons, too. What was the other option, trying to shoot her way out? If she managed that against all odds, then what?

  Death, Makara thought. Starvation and death.

  Raine had wanted her here because he saw it as the best chance for her survival. Oasis would have to do, at least for now. She’d live here, contribute however they told her to, even go to school, as Ohlan had said.

  None of that meant she had to stay forever. An opportunity would present itself to leave. And, it would give her time to plan her revenge. Revenge for Carin Black for what he’d done to Raine and the Angels.

  “All right,” Makara said. “I’ll stay here.”

  Ohlan nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

  “Not because I want to,” Makara said. “For Raine.”

  “The reasons don’t matter,” Ohlan said. “My oath is fulfilled.” His cold blue eyes went to her weapons. “You’ll have to give those up, of course.”

  Makara nodded. “I know.”

  “You’ll get them back as soon as you prove yourself,” Ohlan said. “Might be sooner than you think.”

  “If I kiss your ass, you mean.”

  Ohlan smirked. “Well, a lot of people around here seem to think that’s the way to my heart. I don’t care much about that. I care about results.”

  “Where will I stay?”

  “Well, since it’s late, we have a boarding house near the gate you can stay in. I’ll have one of my guys lead you there. Someone will get you tomorrow. Give you a tour of the town, drop you off at the schoolhouse.” Ohlan smiled. “The teacher, Emelia, followed me from Last Town, like a lot of the others. Maybe it’s her I’ll send to fetch you tomorrow.” Ohlan nodded toward the food. “Help yourself. Me and my ladies were done, anyway. If there’s nothing else . . .”

  Makara shook her head. “Not that I can think of.”

  “Let my guard know when you’re done.”

  Ohlan retired, leaving Makara alone in the dining room. She ate until full, not really relishing the food. Makara didn’t complain, though, even taking some of the food to bring with her for later.

  When she was ready to leave, the guard asked for her weapons. This was the true test. After a moment, she reluctantly handed over her AR-15, handgun, and the ammo in her pack. The guard eyed the carbine approvingly, as if he himself might take it.

  “At least wait till you’re done with me before admiring your new weapon,” Makara said, with a growl.

  The man just laughed. “I’ll take that pack, too.”

  He opened the pack, and only took a few seconds to sort through it. He handed it back to Makara, after determining nothing inside could be construed as contraband.

  “Follow me,” he said.

  Makara followed him down Oasis’s dark main drag. Most of the people were indoors by now, but she spied a few heads looking at her from the interior rooms. It felt as if she were being watched by ghosts.

  “The warlord must think a lot of you,” the guard said. “Did you really know Raine?”

  Makara nodded. “I did.”

  “Lucky you,” he said. “Ohlan isn’t taking on anyone knew here. We turn away at least a dozen folks every day.”

  He said nothing else, until Makara was brought to the boarding house, a log cabin with a single entrance. When she was led inside, there were twelve bunks on one side with a small wooden table and hearth on the side. There were only a few logs in the fireplace, and Makara would have to light it herself. Looking around, all the bunks were empty. At least she’d have the place to herself.

  Without so much as a goodbye, the guard shut the door behind her. Makara was left in silence.

  She got a fire going soon enough, and brought in a few more logs from outside. Makara wondered where Ohlan was getting the wood. Trade caravans must already be passing through Oasis and dropping off their wares. She hadn’t seen so much as a tree on her way here, except in the mountains by Last Town.

  Once the fire brought some warmth and light, Makara lay down on the nearest bunk, kicking off her boots. Now alone with her thoughts, she found that there was nothing comforting in them. She started to shake, and once again, the tears came to her eyes.

  She was alone again, and being stuck in Ohlan’s town where everyone worshipped him was practically her worst nightmare. She would live, but she didn’t know what the point of living was.

  First, she had lost everyone in her family but Samuel. Then, she had lost her second family with the Angels and Sam, too. Everyone she’d come to know, trust, and love was dead.

  “What’s the point?” she asked.

  She stared into the flames for what seemed hours, despair making her go cold. She didn’t want to do this anymore. With her guns gone, the easy way out was, too.

  There was nothing but to sleep and see what the morning brought.

  Chapter 50

  A KNOCK WOKE MAKARA up, and by the time she opened her eyes and was shielding herself against the red morning light, a young woman wearing a long green dress with long sleeves entered and stood next to the table, watching her. She had shoulder-length black hair, along with a pinched, but pretty, face.

  “Hello,” she said, pleasantly enough. “My name is Emelia. I teach over at the schoolhouse?”

  She said it as a question. Makara coughed and took a swig of water she kept by her bed.

  “Oh yeah,” she said, groggily. “Ohlan said he might send you.”

  Makara got out of bed, still fully dressed from the day before. Emelia frowned at her dirty state.

  “He didn’t even have a bath brought? Well, there’s no time for that, now.”

  There was no time for Makara to sit at the table and eat, either. She had to take the leftovers from last night and eat on the way. She stuffed the food into her mou
th while Emelia gave her the tour. The exterior farms, the shops, the trading square where the caravans came two times a week, the homes, the blacksmith. Though Makara tried not to show it, she was impressed. Everything in the town looked fresh and new, and the people milling about on their business were laughing and joking with each other. It looked like there was plenty of food to go around.

  “When Ohlan told me where you had come from, I could hardly believe it,” Emelia said. “You’ll be safe here, and you should have a permanent home, soon.”

  “Why did you leave Last Town?” Makara asked, suddenly.

  Emelia paused. “I followed my boyfriend, George, out this way. He was convinced Ohlan was right about Last Town. That one day, the Reapers would get to it.”

  Makara could hardly blame her for that.

  Emelia pointed at a building on the left, where children were walking in. “That’s the school.”

  When Makara went inside, she found she was joining twenty other kids of all ages, from six to nearly Sam’s age. She was one of the older ones, and everyone looked at her curiously as she took up the only empty desk, which was in the back.

  She endured the lesson, about English and history, things she didn’t really see the point of learning. Emelia taught out of a ratty old textbook that was clearly from before the fall of Ragnarok. Makara couldn’t focus on a thing. Yesterday she’d been out in the Wasteland, trying to survive. Today, she was sitting in school, as if nothing had changed from her life in the mall.

  During the lunch recess, several of the kids tried to talk to Makara, but she brushed them off. A couple of older boys tried to pick a fight, one of them trying to force a kiss out of her. Makara kicked that one hard in the balls, and he ran of squealing to Emelia. Even though she got in trouble, his friends backed off, too, and after that, no one dared talk to her.

  After school was out, Emelia came up to her and asked to go on a walk. They walked to the oasis together, around which several people were drawing their water for the evening’s cooking and cleaning.

  “I can tell you’re not a happy child,” Emelia said.

  “Geez,” Makara said to herself. “What gave that away?”

  Emelia seemed to swallow her first response. “I want you to have a happy life here, Makara. It’s the best shot we have in this world.”

  “What a sad thought,” Makara said, not censoring herself.

  “I don’t know what you went through back in L.A. I’m sure it was truly horrible.”

  It was, Makara said. That thought she did keep to herself.

  “I want you to stay with me and my boyfriend,” she said. “We have a nice house, and an extra bed and blanket.”

  “No,” Makara said.

  “Makara, I know it’s hard to accept help . . .”

  “You don’t know anything!” Makara said. She felt as if all the anger of the last couple of weeks, all the sorrow, all the injustice, was just about to make her go crazy, if it hadn’t already.

  Emelia was watching her sadly while Makara started crying. Emelia held her.

  “Ohlan is a bad man,” Makara said. “He left Raine behind to start this place. He let Raine die.”

  She probably didn’t even know Raine was, but Emelia rubbed her back all the same. “There, there.”

  Makara wriggled free of her, at once wanting her comfort while wanting to lash out at her. “If only you knew what he’s done . . . how he used me to get what he wanted . . . you wouldn’t think so much of him.”

  Emelia looked back at the water, troubled. Several people were looking their direction. “I know he’s not a good person, Makara. That’s why I have George to take care of me. A lot of the other women . . . aren’t so lucky.”

  Makara looked at her. She realized, for the first time, that she wasn’t the only one Ohlan had hurt. Ohlan had hurt people back in L.A., so of course he was bound to hurt more here.

  “We have safety. Food. Water. Items to trade to the caravans for what we can’t get here naturally.” Emelia shook her head. “Unfortunately, Ohlan knows that and takes advantage of his station. Anyone who doesn’t agree with him doesn’t have a place here for long.” Emelia looked at her, her brown eyes wet with unshed tears. “I know it’s not your way to keep your head down, Makara, but you’re going to have to if you’re going to live here. There’s no way around that.”

  “I can’t ignore who he is,” Makara said. “Anyone who does is a coward.”

  Emelia nodded. “Fine, then. I’m a coward. We become who we must to survive, Makara.”

  “I don’t,” Makara said.

  “You’re doing it now,” Emelia said. “By being here.”

  “Raine told me to come here,” she said. “If I knew he meant me to live here, I would have never come.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Emelia said. “What do you say, then?”

  “To what?”

  “To staying with me. I’ll let you have a bed if you agree to help around the house. I won’t suffer insolence, though. Save that for the ones who deserve it, not me.”

  Makara looked at Emelia, and immediately felt guilty. “I’m sorry. You’re only trying to help me.”

  Emelia nodded. “I accept your apology. Come on. George will be hungry and the fire’s not started yet.”

  Emelia walked off, and Makara hesitated only a moment before following her.

  Chapter 51

  SLOWLY, MAKARA SETTLED into life at Oasis. It wasn’t easy, and every day she was still mourning the loss of Samuel and Raine. She kept ruminating about the things she could have done differently, but no matter how she thought about it, she couldn’t think of a way she could have saved them. She could have never known Raine would get sick from the man they’d brought back, nor could she have predicted the mortar that would cause the cellar to collapse on Samuel.

  At least Raine was with his daughter and wife now, while Samuel was with their parents. All Makara could do was push down the feelings of grief and sadness until they were so small that they were barely noticeable.

  There was little time for grief, anyway. Emelia didn’t much ask about her past, while George was even quieter. The bearded man was gruff, and the opposite of the daintier, more gregarious Emelia. He was probably just too tired to talk much to Makara after working the fields all day. He and Emelia seemed to argue sometimes, and Makara got the feeling it was about her. She caught something about “the girl being a drain,” but Emelia never asked Makara to leave. Makara did what she could to pull her weight, forcing herself to focus at school, despite her lack of interest in any of the subjects, while working hard to keep the little cabin clean.

  Inside, though, she felt as if she were going crazy. Anytime she saw Ohlan, strolling around or joking with his men, she felt barely controlled fury. If he hadn’t come here, Raine might still be alive today. Only Emelia’s admonishment to behave kept Makara from doing something stupid. The more she saw Ohlan around, the more she thought of how she couldn’t stay in Oasis a day longer.

  And yet, she did stay. For weeks, and then, months. She stayed so long that her birthday passed, and she hadn’t bothered to tell a single soul.

  The one thing she liked about living in Oasis was talking with the caravan merchants and their guards. She got to know a lot of the regulars who passed through, and some had even ranged as far as San Fran or Mexico. They had stories of those places, about an army called the Legion to the south and the empire it was carving out, or how the winter ice was advancing in the north and making it harder to find salvage there. Some of them had even gone to Raider Bluff, on the Colorado River, which had the best stuff for sale in the Wasteland.

  That was what Makara wanted to be. A raider. Joining an outfit out of Bluff, ranging far from all known territory to find the good stuff, then bringing it back to Bluff to sell to the caravans and make a mint in batts. That became her goal, but none of the caravans would agree to take her on. As she saw it, joining a caravan was the only way out of this town.

  No one s
eemed to believe she was as good with a gun as she said, and that was practically a requirement. Besides, she was a girl, and girls were supposed to stay in the house and do what they were told.

  Makara didn’t care about any of that. Being a raider was her best chance at becoming self-sufficient and not depending on Ohlan for anything.

  Once she was a raider, she’d be free.

  MAKARA NEVER FORGOT her goal. Everything she did, from being forced to go to school, to doing chores for Emelia and George, to even helping other townsfolk with their problems, was all for the eventual aim of becoming a raider.

  One day, she was given her chance.

  “I’m low on guards,” Daryl Lapin said, a merchant who led the Desert Foxes caravan. “If you can outfit yourself, including your own gun, I’ll give you a chance.”

  “Where are you bound this time?” Makara asked, feeling excitement build in her chest.

  “Northbound,” he said. “Gonna try to make it to San Fran, and we need all the bodies we can get. Survive the journey, well, you might have yourself a permanent spot on my team.”

  “I will,” Makara promised. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning at sunrise.”

  Daryl nodded, then shooed her away.

  Now, for the difficult part. Finding a gun.

  As much as she didn’t relish it, she knew she needed to talk to Ohlan. She went to the town hall, where she would most likely to find him, assuming he wasn’t out on patrol.

  Luckily for her, he was in, and he had a moment to talk to her.

  “Makara,” he said, beaming a yellow smile. “To what do I owe this honor?”

  Makara swallowed, trying to force all the animosity out of her voice. “Ohlan,” she began. “You know I’ve been doing a good job since I’ve come here. I’ve been studying hard at school, helping Emelia out with whatever needs. I even helped build that fence for Mr. Norris on the northside.”

  Ohlan nodded. “That’s good. You have been a willing hand, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that.”

 

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