by BA Tortuga
“It might. Thanks.” He took the flask, just seeing if the sting on Jess’ dry lips got a response.
Jess didn’t so much as frown, the liquor sliding into the man’s throat. Shit. This was bad. Cyrus came over, limping, offering a handkerchief soaked in water.
“For his head,” Cyrus said, staring down at them, gray eyes full of concern.
“He’s burned bad.”
Cyrus shrugged, spreading his hands. “I don’t know nothing about that, boss.”
“I know.” None of them knew a thing about the port. Burns were generally bad out this way, though, hard to keep clean with the sweat and blowing sand.
“We’ll put some lard on it, that’ll keep the dust out.” That was Cookie, limping too, blood on the man’s face. “Lost a wheel on the wagon. Gonna have to camp ‘til we fix it.”
“We have to camp until we figure out where we’re taking the herd.” When Cy and Cookie stared, Ezrah shrugged. “Denver is on fire. From Laramie to Cimmaron, he says.”
“No.” Cyrus stared at him, face pale as milk. “It can’t be true. There’s no way all that is gone.”
“We’ll have to see if we can find a runner, see if it’s true, but he believed it.” He stroked Jess’ hair.
“Denver survived the Big Quake. How could it go?”
“That made it ripe to fall now.” He hated the looks on everyone’s faces, but Jess knew shit, and this had made him practically catatonic.
“Well, there’s nothing to do about it tonight. Tonight, we rest, we regroup, and we try to fix that wheel.” It was as if Cyrus’ word was law, laid down, sure and strong. The boys all nodded as if that was that, so Ez guessed it was.
“Cookie, do we have food that’s still edible?” They all needed to eat and ride out the aftershocks.
“Absolutely. The stores are solid.”
Thank God for that. One thing was working. “All, right. Let’s get everyone testing the ground. This bluff is riddled with caves, and we want a safe place for the wagon. The weight could have it falling right through.”
The men started working, and Ez swaddled Jesse up, hiding him from the sun and keeping him still. He dragged Jess into the shade of the wagon once the men got it set, and then went about helping count the horses, gather supplies. They had two badly injured not counting Jess, and Cookie dealt with them.
The cattle were in the river, drinking and lowing, and it didn’t escape him that they were happier than before the quake. Go them. They didn’t have to deal with the fallout. He wanted to stay with Jess, but he had hours of work to do.
The ground was unstable under his feet, but they managed to get camp set up without major rumbles. They stuck to tiny fires, in case the ground opened up, let out gasses. No one needed to go up in flames. One burned man was enough.
Finally, he could sit with the bowl of hot oats Cookie gave him, and he went to Jess, plopping down next to the man.
Jesse wasn’t dead, not yet, but his lover was as still as a corpse. His skin appeared gray, his eyes sunken in and bruised-looking. Ezrah didn’t know what to do to make it better, to help.
So, he sat and stared, chewing on his lip, the heat leaving as the sun faded completely away.
“Ez. Ez, help me. Help me, I’m stuck.”
“I’m right here, Jess.” He touched the piece of skin he could, the one right there under Jesse’s chin.
Jesse groaned, the sound pained. “Help me, huh? It’s so hot.”
“You want me to unwrap you?” He could do that, make that poor body more comfortable.
Jesse’s skin was dry, warm to the touch, and he hated to let the night air in. What if it killed him? What if something got infected?
Biting his lip, he started at the top, working the wrappings down enough to get a bit of a breeze. “Better?”
“Uh-huh. Ez. Ez, it hurts.”
“Where, baby?” Cookie could make some willow bark tea. He just needed to know what was worst.
“My head. My face.”
“Something is wrong with your port, baby. It’s all burned.”
“The fire was everywhere. Surges. It hurt, so bright.” Jesse didn’t move much, but every muscle was still tense.
“I’m sorry, baby.” Ezrah got a little more skin exposed, then propped Jess up enough to wet those parched lips with a wet cloth.
Jess groaned, mouth moving restlessly, tongue pale, looking as if a map were drawn on it. Ez dribbled a little water over that poor tongue and sat back, needing to eat his supper. Every so often the ground shook, making him pause until the shock ended.
Cyrus came over, sat with his own bowl. “How’s he doing, boss?”
“He’s hurting. A little delirious I think. Where do we stand?” Ezrah needed to know how bad the damage was to their column.
“We were in a good spot to wait out the quake. Two men wounded, Cookie’s not moving so good. Wagon needs mending, but given the shaker—”
“No sense taking chance on moving it until they stop.” Ez nodded. “On the good side, we got some water.”
“We got water, looks as if we’re on solid rock, right here. Cutter rode to the north and the ground’s open wide.”
“Shit. We’ll have to take care or the cows will fall right in once we get moving.” They couldn’t turn back. If Denver was gone, they’d have to turn east.
“I don’t think we can cross, Boss. I think we’re going to have to head east, into the Tribal Territories.”
“I know.” Shit, that was dangerous, but at this point, everything was waiting to kill them.
“If he wakes up, he can help, huh?”
“He can. Whatever he saw…” It had scarred Jess. Physically. The bright light and all had to be from the Flow.
“We don’t know what all is down there. It has to be hell.”
“I know it was awful dark by the time I got to him. He almost suffocated.” Ezrah shuddered, completely unable to understand how Jess could have gone down that hole willingly.
“I’m glad you got to him. Don’t no one deserve that, ‘specially not him.”
“Thanks, Cyrus. I appreciate that you take up for him.” Jess twitched, moaning, and Ez patted his chest as gently as he could.
Cyrus shrugged. “Different don’t mean bad.”
“No. I know. The boys, though, they hate him.” Ezrah choked down a few bites of oats, feeling as if he was chewing wood bark.
Cyrus shrugged. “He’s nothing they get, I reckon, looking like a tribesman.”
“Sure.” Cyrus was right. He couldn’t blame his boys for a natural inclination. He knew Jess; they didn’t. Hell, he knew Jesse bone deep. The man wouldn’t hurt a flea. He believed in a mystical connection to all things.
“Ez, Ez, there’s a fire,” Jesse said, moaning.
Jesus. There was, he had no doubt of it, but it was far enough away that he couldn’t see a glow, couldn’t smell smoke.
“What do I do, Cy? I can’t just leave him like this. I have to try to help.”
“We have to camp a few days, we’ll see how he is then. The rest of the boys will heal up by then.”
Ezrah bit back a protest. Cyrus was right. He had to give it time, see what happened. Not fly off in all directions. Everyone needed a rest, a moment to catch their breath.
He had to give Jess a chance to come back to him.
He rolled his head on his neck. “So, north we got cracks big enough to swallow us. Tomorrow, we need to send a rider east, see what it looks like.
“I agree. Someone on a fast mount who has a head on his shoulders.”
They grinned at each other. “Dooley.”
He clapped Cy on the shoulder, hooting a little bit. He was glad, balls to bones, Cy was with him, having his back. The man was solid as a rock and smart as a whip. They’d known each other so long it was weird Cyrus called him boss sometimes. The man had done a lot of fathering for him and Emmett over the years.
“We’ll send him out first light.”
Ez nodded, th
e simple act of having some semblance of a plan making the whole situation easier to deal with.
“I’m gonna turn in.” Cyrus slurped the last of his coffee. “I’ll be just on the other side of the wagon. I got the boys set on watch. You stay with him.”
Ezrah frowned, wanting to pull his weight. “I can take my watch.”
“I know, but we got it. He’ll need you, through the night.”
“Yeah.” He sighed, watching Jess twitch. “Thanks again, Cy.”
When Cyrus left him, he moved closer to Jess, the night colder without a big fire.
Jesse was muttering under his breath, shifting in the blankets. Ez didn’t know what else to do, so he stretched out next to Jess and tugged the man close.
“Ez. Ez, I came. It hurts, man. I left when they told me, and now I’m here.” Jess wasn’t making no sense at all.
Ezrah talked back, though. “I’m glad you’re with me, baby. I am.”
“I needed to come. You’re Ez. I had to. I won’t leave you alone.”
“Then come back to me now, baby. Jess. I’m all alone.” He needed Jess to look at him. To see him. Then they could sleep.
“The quakes are coming. I was in the dark. Then it was burning. Dark and light.”
“It’s dark out here, but we’re above ground.” He kept talking, stroking Jesse’s back.
“You came for me.”
Yes. Yes, thank God. That was sense. Ezrah rewarded those words with a tiny kiss to Jesse’s dry lips. “I did. I will always come for you.”
“Always.” Jess saw him, eyes open, red and wet. “Ez. Am I dyin’?”
“No.” He said it just as fierce as he’d told Emmett to stay, but Jesse he thought he could save. “You just need time to heal.”
“I believe you. Water? Throat hurts.” Jesse swallowed, which sounded like a click.
“You got it.” He grabbed his canteen, dripping some water into Jesse’s mouth. Not too much; he wasn’t sure Jesse’s head would survive retching if it came back up.
Jess licked his lips, trying to get more. Ezrah gave it, but slowly.
“No getting sick,” he said. “You need to keep it inside you.”
Jess shivered, settling into the blankets, cheeks burning. Poor baby had a fever. Ez cuddled, close, wishing Emmett was there to help him plan their next move.
“I miss Em, Jess.”
“Me too.”
“I’m sorry I got you into this.” He rubbed noses with Jess, feeling lower than he had since Em had passed.
“The quake would have gotten me at home, and no one would have found me. I lived under the dirt.”
Now, that was the most sense Jess had made since Ez had pulled him out of the ground. He grinned, nodding. “Okay, I can buy that.”
“I’d rather die in the air, I think.”
“I would, too.” He held on, not wanting to think about Jess passing at all, there or here.
Jesse’s fingers squeezed him, held on tight. It was more than he’d thought he’d get from Jess so quickly, and enough to give him hope. Tonight they would hold on to each other.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to see what was left of the world.
Chapter Ten
His dreams were filled with the smell of smoke, with the cries of hundreds of people running from the big city in droves. The mountains themselves seemed to be belching out fire, huge sections of rock sheering off and covering the foothills in dust.
The world was falling again.
Jesse groaned, brain searching through the rubble for answers, for something he could use. His nerves felt raw, as if he were right there in the flames.
“Shh. I got you, Jess. I got you.”
Why was Ezrah there? He’d get hurt. He had to run.
“Ez. Ez, there’s fire. Denver is on fire. You can’t stay here.”
“We’re not in Denver, baby. We’re okay.” Ezrah touched him, stroking his cheeks. “There’s a little shaking, but it’s not too bad.”
But he was. He was in Denver. He could see the buildings, the streets mostly dirt and grass now, the animals right there in the street. “The people are running. The mountain is spitting fire.”
“You’re all mixed up with what you saw underground, baby.”
He nodded, shook his head, so confused. “Help me.” He was lost.
“I’m trying, baby. I am. We just need to figure this out.”
Figure it out. Denver was burning. The mountains were burning. His face was burning. Maybe his hair was on fire.
“Is my hair on fire?”
“No. No, baby. You’re fine.”
He didn’t feel fine. He felt hurt. Worried. Scared. His skin was too tight, too hot. Why was he so hot?
Scared.
Jesse held on to Ez, though, who he could feel. Solid. There.
It was so easy, to wander through his head, through his memories. So much easier than trying to focus, to see the world as it was.
He could feel Ez, pushing at him, trying to wake him up. He just wanted to sleep and wander. Ez, though, Ez was worried. Frightened. A cowboy had to be pretty terrified for it to be that obvious.
Jesse licked his lips, searching for water.
Cool and clear, it trickled into his mouth, as if by magic.
Oh. Oh, good. So good, Ez. He was so dry. He lapped at the tiny stream as if he were an overheated dog, wanting more.
“Careful, Jess. You’re so dry.”
He knew that. That was why he wanted water! He rose up a little, trying to reach the canteen, tongue searching.
“No. You’ll get cramps in your belly.”
“Ez.” He moved his head and his eyes rolled, pain flooding him. His skull might cave in on itself.
“Shh. Oh, baby. Your poor head.”
He gritted his teeth together so hard they squeaked. That didn’t help the pain at all. It just made his teeth hurt, too.
The only option was to run, push into the wilds of the new pathways burned into his brain. He sank into them, trying to find a way around the fire.
A way around the pain.
Chapter Eleven
Ezrah was kind of surprised to wake up the next morning. Cyrus nudged him out of sleep with the toe of one boot, offering coffee.
“Morning. Everyone good?” Ground still whole?
“So far, yeah.” Cyrus squatted, sipping another cup of coffee.
“That’s a blessing. Dooley gone for a looksee?”
“Yep. He headed out just before dawn.” Cyrus sighed. “We got a problem, boss.”
“Spit it out.” Hooray. More problems.
“The boys blame all this on him.” Cyrus motioned at Jesse. “Overhead them making plans.”
“What? He caused the quakes? Jesus fuck, Cy.” The man knew better. Surely he did.
Cyrus grimaced. “I know, Ez. You know that. Dooley was the one came and got me, told me to go listen.”
“I can’t move him, Cy. He’ll die.”
“Just leave me here and go, Ez. Your hunter, he’s got his hands full with the shakers.” Jesse’s eyes were open, watching him.
“No. I’m not leaving you.” That was out of the question. Jess had come to help him, and he wasn’t going to repay that by walking away.
“Take the cattle and go, Ez. It’s okay.”
“No. I don’t think that’s gonna work, son.” Cyrus smiled at Jess, looking old, the lines around his eyes sunk deep. “I think Ez needs to get you fixed.”
Jesse tried to sit up and the skin on that poor face. God. God, save them both. Jess grabbed his hand, grip weak as a drowned kitten.
“It’s okay, Ezrah. You can go. Promise.”
“Shut up, Jess.” He’d said it so many times when they were kids, it popped right out.
Cyrus snorted. “I’ll get the cattle to market, any market, and get the money home. God knows what is really out there. You know I will. I been with your people since you was a boy. I got a powerful admiration for your momma.”
“I know. I
just don’t know what to do with Jess.”
“Take him to one of them tribes he’s good with. Find a healer. They got more knowledge than we do.”
“Throw the Grounder off a cliff. He was jacking with something under there.” One of the drovers stood there, a long bullwhip in hand, stance threatening.
Ezrah stood, hands on his hips. Christ, he hadn’t even had his morning piss yet. “You going against me, Gavin?”
“He’s cursed, boss. Devil himself follows his kind. We’re trying to save you.”
“I don’t need saving. He’s not the enemy.” He was going to lose his shit and start shooting folks any moment.
“Enough. Gavin, get on. Now. I’m talking with the boss.” Cy’s voice snapped harder than any bullwhip.
Gavin’s mouth set, his chin jutting, but against Cyrus and Ez, the man just couldn’t keep it up. He stalked off, muttering.
Ez was fixin’ to lose it, just go into a jibbering hysterical fit.
Cyrus met his eyes, serious as a heart attack. “I’ll get the herd to auction, Boss. Kansas City if I have to. Get your momma the money. You need to get him healed. It’s important.”
Ez wasn’t sure, exactly, what Cyrus saw in Jesse, but he knew what he did. He was just grateful Cy didn’t agree with the rest of the boys. “We’ll need just enough provisions to get to the tribes. I won’t leave y’all in the lurch.”
“He won’t need much and, if y’all don’t find the Tribes, it won’t matter.”
“Okay.” Ezrah couldn’t believe how fucking out of control everything was. He was just handing off his herd to Cyrus and going off into the badlands.
He had no idea if Momma was okay, if the ranch was still there. If anything was how it had been. All he knew was he had to get Jesse fixed. He felt the urgency of that in his bones, and he thought Cyrus did, too.
He set to making a travois, something where Jess could be safe, if not comfortable. They’d head southwest, toward the Tribes, toward the Diné.
“I’ll cull you a couple of horses,” Cyrus said. “Get you some supplies.”
“You’re a good man, Cyrus.”
Cyrus looked at him, lips quirking. “I am. You remember me in your prayers and that’s enough for me.”