by Tara Brown
Their faces lit up, the same as they did every day. I had to gag down the words, imagining the new girl Lyle had as his wife. I wondered if they had courted yet. I had no right to be angry with him for loving someone else but it hurt, just the same. Just the same as it did thinking about Bran. Or my parents. Or my house overlooking the city. Or my job that I might have made a difference with, had I not gotten curious and snooped.
I looked out at the people in the circle and smiled. “We need to follow the river people today. They have cave drawings they want to show us.”
We walked out of the house, past our laundry line that we had learned to make after learning to wash clothes in the river. We walked past our pit for cooking small things for just us. Not the huge meals that were had with the rest of the people.
Greg gave me a look. “I am going to the desert to see if there are any others.”
I nodded. “Okay.” I slid my knife into the leather holster Greg had made for me. It had scratched my leg many times but I liked it there. My leather shorts were too short, and my leather bra shirt didn’t cover anything but my chest and ribs. I looked like I was in my undergarments. It made the men of the river people stare at my body. The knife tended to make them look away. It was my cooking knife and my fish-cutting knife. I was allowed to wear it, as it wasn’t a weapon. But it could easily have been.
Greg was keeping his guns in the rocks, in a secret hold he had made for them. I had learned the black things were called guns. They killed things and were dangerous. The river people didn’t like them, but Greg took them when he went into the desert every other day to look for more like us.
Michael smiled at us from the riverbank. He pointed farther into the city, “We need to hike for about half an hour. Can you guys handle that now in the heat?”
I nodded, not looking back at them and giving them the chance to complain.
He laughed, seeing their faces no doubt. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t like him. I knew he was up to something, as Greg had said. He was shifty, and looked like he was making a plan but not telling anyone about it.
We each grabbed a waterskin and filled them from the drinking falls along the way.
Michael gave me a look. “It’s much easier when someone who remembers comes with them.”
I shook my head. “Not for the person remembering.”
He chuckled. “You don’t have to tell me.” His eyes had secrets. Untruths lived in them.
Amber stayed close to me, but I watched as his eyes drifted toward her many times. It bothered me. He was older than us, maybe in his late thirties. The gap was by far unacceptable by our standards, and he was one of us. The river people were far more flexible in the things they believed were healthy for people.
The hike was short but hot. We walked on the red rock following the river through the canyon. I had learned about the canyon recently. The water had carved it away over time, forming the smooth red rock for us to live on.
“I have been here for ten years.”
I looked at Michael. “That long?”
He nodded. “I got caught for remembering.”
“Yes, well, that happens. Let me guess, you thought you would hide out amongst the lower classes, work and keep your head down?”
He beamed a perfect smile. “I did.”
“That was your first mistake.”
His smile dropped. “Do you think your friend will actually bring them down?”
I shook my head. “I could not guess on something like that. I believe him possibly the most capable and resourceful person I know.”
He pointed. “This is the spot.” I looked at the narrow opening into the red rock. It was a cave. I wrinkled my nose. “You want us to go in there?”
He nodded. “The ruins of the old city are through there. That’s where the drawings are.”
I gulped and walked to the small opening. Michael went first. Henry went second. Helena went third but gave me a frightened look as she crawled in. I let them all go ahead of me. When I climbed in, I was instantly relieved at the coolness of the air.
Sounds of water echoed through the space I couldn’t fathom the size of. It might have been small or massive. By the echo, I could guess it was large. In the dim light coming in the hole I had crawled, I could see the frightened faces of the other people.
“Alright, we go this way,” Michael spoke loudly into the dark.
We followed through the dank dark until a light made the end of the tunnel show itself to us. Michel climbed an old metal ladder. It reminded me of the one in the tunnels in the city.
We climbed slowly. I could tell it was the first time they had climbed a ladder.
It dawned on me then that we had made a mistake. We were too trusting and too easily swayed into doing things that might not benefit us. I wished Greg was there as I climbed up over to the top.
I stopped, surveying the ruins. I had never seen anything like it that I could recall.
It was frightening and yet monumental.
There was a sea of destruction that the sand had either covered or carried away.
Only pieces of it remained. I could see how it had been formed, similar to our city. There was no wall, just the shells of buildings. Some lay on their sides and others stood hollowed out.
“The sand and wind eroded the city after the fall,” Michael called to us.
We all stood on the side of the massive mountain and nodded.
“The city was heavily populated at the time. The fall was unexpected apparently. The way it reads is that things were on the decline. The world wasn’t doing well, but it was sustaining life.”
I frowned. “You read this?”
He nodded. “I did.” The wind whipped across my face, bringing his answer with it. I pulled my hair back and noticed the fear on the faces next to us.
“The cave drawings?”
He pointed behind him to a door. I tilted my head, studying it. He wrapped his large worn hands around the handle and pulled hard. The old creaky door nearly ripped out of the space. He dragged it back and walked inside.
Every doorway and cave entrance and tunnel made me trust him less and less. I expected something horrid to be behind it, waiting for us like a monster he would satisfy with our flesh. I didn’t know where the notion had come from, but it seemed plausible.
We entered an old shack in the side of the hill. He closed the door, sealing us in with him to the tight space. There were windows all the way across the front of the odd building.
“This was a weather station, I believe. They monitored it. I don’t know why. Some say for the flying machines.”
A snicker trickled through the group.
He smiled. “Laugh if you will, but there were flying machines. It was a way of travel. People traveled from one city to another. It’s in this book.”
He opened a drawer and pulled out a book with words and pictures.
I dragged my finger down the lettering, barely able to see it. “Guinness Book of World Records 2013.” It creaked as he opened it.
“This book is full of the records set for that year. The index has records set for other years. It was printed in 2014.” I noticed the way he seemed to revere it. He liked knowledge. I liked that. I trusted him a smidge more than not at all.
“This book is not why we are here,” I pointed out.
He smiled. “But it is. You see the images were placed in here over words as if they do not belong. They are photos that were stuck into the book.” He opened the book on the debris-covered table. We gathered around to see.
Gasps filled the still air of the room.
I pointed. “I have seen her.” The woman was much larger than the man she shook hands with. The photo was like art but not. It was art of the woman with the pointed head. She towered over the man I could only guess was our size.
She was Lisabeth but not.
“That is the superior engineer.”
I nodded. “Yes, it is.”
Helena shook her head.
“How did she live back then and look like that? How many years past is that—2014?”
“Three hundred and three,” I whispered.
Michael pointed a dirty finger in the back of the photo. “That is a flying machine.”
I looked at the rounded silver machine and shook my head. “Are you certain?”
“I wouldn’t be, except that the next page is pretty clear.” He flipped the page and we all gasped. There were several pieces of art with the silver thing flying, then landing, then the door opening and the lady getting out. Her pointed head and large features were startling next to the man who met her on the road. She was not the only one of her kind. She was just the one that did all the talking.
I looked up. “Is there more?”
A grin crossed his lips. “You think like I do. There is more. There is something that is remarkable.”
He walked back out of the building and to the ledge. He pointed, shouting at us from outside on the red rock, “There is a building that I can take you to. It is a very long hike across the sand. Not everyone can come. We need to go back and prepare for a hike like that.” The wind blew his dark-blond hair about.
I nodded. “Okay.”
The walk back was silent. We all were lost. Some of us had no idea what was happening and others knew too much. It didn’t matter which one you were; either way, everything was changing too quickly.
We split off into our groups: fishers, cleaners, gatherers, cooks, and helpers to the river people.
I started to clean the fish that had been caught in the traps. I had never done anything so menial, and yet, it was the most relaxed I had ever been.
“GWYN!”
I pulled from my silent processing and turned suddenly, seeing my brother running. His face was red and sweat covered. He collapsed, dropping a body onto the rocks. He dumped water onto the face. My heart nearly burst.
My feet couldn’t move quickly enough. I staggered and stumbled, trying to get my bearings and scramble toward it.
Greg dumped the water onto his burnt face. His dark, golden-blond hair was matted against his soaked head. His slack face was the worst thing I remembered seeing.
My lips parted as I cried out from the rocks scraping along my skinned knees. I cradled his head in my lap, rocking instantly.
I stroked his face and looked at my brother. Greg licked his parched lips. “He was face down in the sand.” He could barely breathe, he was so exhausted. He must have run the entire way.
I bent over his face, smothering his burnt cheeks with kisses. “Please wake up. Please wake up. I promise I will love you until I die. Please wake up.”
His eyes fluttered. He coughed and wheezed. “Gwyn.”
I sobbed. “I’m here, Lyle. I’ve got you.”
“You’re choking me.”
I laughed and let go, wiping my eyes. “You’re okay!”
He shook his head. “I think I died out there at least once.”
Greg lifted the waterskin to his lips. “Drink.”
He sat up, guzzling the water. He drank until he needed breath, and even then, he tried to do both.
He sat up, looking around. He nodded. “Wow. This place is a hell hole.”
I laughed, hugging myself but not letting my eyes drift too far from him, for fear he was what the river people called a desert story or a sand story. It was when the desert sands convinced you something was there and it was not. The heat was playing tricks on your mind.
Amber walked up, looking confused. She pointed. “Lyle, you’re here? But how?”
He sipped more water, not looking up to see who was talking to him. “I had to find Gwyn.”
She tapped her finger against her lip. “You two?”
He smiled when he realized it was Amber. “You’re alive?” She nodded like it was always obvious. He looked over at the smile on my face and grinned at me. “Yes. Us two.” He still seemed dazed and funny. He was still the best thing I’d ever seen, minus Amber running to me in the desert.
Before he’d gotten his bearings or his balance or even a decent breath, I was on him. I jumped into his arms. He smelled exactly as I remembered. I buried my face into his neck, wrapping my legs around him. I whispered wet apologies into him, “I am so sorry. I never meant it to you or Bran. I never meant it.”
He nodded, hugging me to him. “I know, Gwyn. We both knew immediately what had happened. We agreed I would go and find you. I had better access to information and your father trusted me. Bran ended up having to stay anyway, so it was better for me to get the directions to you. Between all of the things I found and your dad’s directions, I still almost died out there.” He chuckled into my hair.
I nuzzled into him. “I am so sorry, Lyle.”
He shook his head. “This was the right choice. I can feel it in my stomach. My mom always said it had magic that told me when things were right and wrong.”
I tightened when he said that word, “Magic?”
He nodded. “Yeah. She couldn’t explain it, but she said it was something that even the leaders of the world couldn’t stop.”
I sniffled.
Greg sighed, drinking back his waterskin. I gave him a smile from Lyle’s shoulder. “Thank you for finding him.”
He shook his head. “It was a girl from the river people. She came to me and told me there was a man in the dust.”
I looked over at the small city and smiled.
The long road
Two days into the hike to see the building Michael had told us about, I was miserable. Lyle was optimistic, curious, and naturally happy. Greg seemed to be enjoying himself, and Amber seemed to be enjoying him. I was alone in my misery.
We hiked to the top of another dusty hill. I pulled down the piece of cloth the river people had told me to put on my mouth, and took a long drink.
Greg scowled. “You’re bad at this. No drinking until rest time.”
Michael laughed. “She is like the rest of us. Only you guards function outside of the wall.”
I stuck the cork back into the skin and stumbled along. “When is the next rest?”
Greg groaned, “Oh, come on. Stop complaining. We are out in the world seeing things we have never seen, and experiencing things we never would have had we stayed home. Be grateful for the experience.”
I rolled my eyes.
Lyle pointed at me. “That is something the river people do.”
I laughed. “They are making me like them. It has been a month.”
Amber trudged along behind Greg, completely clueless of her existence. She had gotten a few memories, but for the most part, woke every morning to my explanation of her existence. Lyle had come to the camp with a girl named Lisle. She had her memories as well. We had left her in charge of refreshing the dailies for the people from the city.
Michael looked at my grumpy face. “You have walked this way before. Surely you recall how long it takes to get from The Last City?”
I heard him, but his words made no sense. I was scared for a second that I was having one of the sand stories, but then I saw the look on Greg’s face. He frowned. “No, we never.”
Michael pointed ahead of us to the mountain. “The Last City is just over that hill.”
I shook my head. “No, that’s not the way.”
Lyle nodded. “They’re right. We didn’t come from here. Your bearings are off from the heat.”
Michael made a face. “On the way back, I’ll show you I was right.”
We laughed. “Okay.” We hiked until it got dark again. Michael set the fire in the sand with the odd square firebox he carried. We sat around it eating dried fish. I had hated it as much as beets in the beginning. Now I loved it though.
We sat there in the orange light of the firebox in perfect silence.
Lyle cleared his throat. “When I was a boy, my mom told me that her father was a special man. He had never liked the city life. He wanted to see the damage done to the world and the effects we had on it. He never wanted to take the engin
eers’ word for it. So he packed a bag, and he went into the tunnels with a rope he had made. He climbed down from a hole in the side of the wall. He turned and walked into the desert. He was gone for many years and feared dead. But then one day at breakfast, he came and sat at the table. My mother was stunned by this. She leapt into her father’s arms, no longer the very tiny girl she had been when he left. She was just finished school and about to begin her designation in nutrition. They wept and hugged and rejoiced in his mysterious return. She asked him where he had gone, to which he replied, on a walk. She bugged him for years to know where he had gone. Finally one day, right before he was taken to the homes, she asked and he answered. He told her he had walked in a very large circle. It had taken him years to do it. He had seen the damage done by man and agreed the city was the safest place on earth.” He looked up at us, his handsome face made mysterious by the licking of the firelight. He smirked. “I asked her how she recalled such a tale. Her answer was that she didn’t know. It was just there, like how she knew the sun would rise and set. She knew the story.”
I smiled until his face turned dark. He pointed at us. “But I think he told her that story every day to ensure she would tell me or my dad, and we would tell someone, and one day we would realize, there was a way back into the city and a way out.”
My stomach tightened.
Greg nodded. “How did he get back in?”
Lyle shook his head. “I do not know and neither did she.”
Amber frowned. “What if he had never left, not for real?”
Lyle laughed. “That is also another possibility.”
We curled up in the warm sand and the thin blankets we had brought. We stayed in the circle around the fire and tried to ignore the sounds of the animals in the night.
When we woke, we walked for many hours. My face was peeling and my throat was scratchy, but Michael’s hopeful look was back. He knew where we were. A single silver pole out in the middle of the sand made him start to run. He raced toward it, skipping and jumping and shouting, “It’s here, it’s here!”