The Pale Rider

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The Pale Rider Page 5

by J B Trepagnier


  This is where the impossible came in. Aeron’s eyes were glowing white, and there was this white glow that was coming from his body. He also had this huge set of white wings coming from his back like an angel.

  I shook my head, and the image went away. Now was not the time to be having sexual fantasies about the crazy conspiracy theory nut who saved my life. He hadn’t shown me a single shred of proof he wasn’t some nutter who thought he was the world’s savior.

  Even though Aeron helped me on the horse nicely, he practically threw me on the ground, helping me off. He untied our bag and gave the devil horse another smack on the ass. When he turned to look at me, he seemed as happy as a kindergartner who just got told they could finger paint for the entire day.

  “I found chips, Velveeta, and a jar of salsa. We’re having fucking nachos for dinner, Speedy.”

  I may not remember eating nachos, but I knew only heathens didn’t like nachos. I squealed and jumped up and down. I had this weird urge to hug him, but I had this feeling he wouldn’t like it, and I didn’t want to ruin the moment.

  I held my hand up for a fist bump instead.

  “Thank god you looked in that closet then! Nachos during the apocalypse!”

  “Nachos for dinner. Tomorrow, we rough it and head out to meet Leif in Mexico.”

  “He’s the one who specializes in diseases?”

  “Yes. I know you think I’m insane, but he can show you his research and prove to you we are on the right path. Hopefully, you will have gotten back more of your memories by then.”

  “Why am I so claustrophobic?”

  “Let’s not talk about unpleasantness tonight, Ariel. Come on, nachos!”

  I didn’t learn why I had such a problem with small spaces, but I did learn one thing about myself right then and there. I could be bribed with melty, fake orange cheese.

  Chapter 9

  N

  achos are a million times sweeter when you know there’s no chance in Hell you will ever eat them again, and they trigger a memory. My softball team was called The Amazing Flying Bitches, and we ate them after every game. That was our thing. After the game, we’d hit up the concession stand for nachos and beer. What were the chances of finding beer at the end of the world? I mean, we found plastic cheese and made nachos. It could happen, right?

  Aeron was pleasant over dinner. He was so happy about our haul, and he forgot to be a dick. He even cracked a few jokes. If he kept this up, I might even start to like him a little. We kept the conversation away from his past. I didn’t press because I knew it was a touchy subject.

  We were cramming nachos in our faces, and I was way past the point of being full, but I would not stop eating because I might never get this again.

  “What do you think happened to my softball team? When I got that flash after the softball game, we all seemed close. When I was looking through my clothes, I got a flash at a concert with a girl from my team everyone called Pokey.”

  “We can check. I was planning on bringing you to your old apartment on the way to Mexico. There might be things you want to take, and it’ll probably jog some memories loose. Isaiah is the President of the United States, but not everyone follows him. A lot of the gangs have established themselves as either governors or kings. Some governors cooperate with him, and the kings do whatever the fuck they want. Scooter fancies himself the King of Washington, but there’s already a governor in one of the larger cities, and he answers to Isaiah. There’s just not enough military to crush people like Scooter.”

  “Do you have any proof Isaiah is responsible for all of this other than the fact that he was the majority shareholder in that company? What does he get out of turning the world into this? He’s president of one country, and he doesn’t even have a military behind him. It sounds like a lot of the country doesn’t even recognize him as president. What’s the point?”

  “Does anyone need a reason to cause the end of the world?”

  “Well, yeah. There’s no way to do it without dying along with everyone else. Even if he locks himself in the White House, he will die a horrible death with everyone else.”

  Aeron just shrugged.

  “Why do serial killers kill people and dictators commit mass genocide? They eventually get caught and pay for their crimes. People do what they are programmed to do. Isaiah was programmed to do this.”

  I scoffed.

  “I don’t believe that. He probably has mommy issues.”

  Aeron started laughing.

  “Close. Daddy issues. As I said, there are things deeply ingrained in all of us. I was programmed to end this, just like Leif is programmed to be good with diseases, Dice is good at justice and conquest, and Asher is good at war strategy. We were put together for a reason.”

  “What am I programmed for?” I asked.

  “You’re a wild card, Ariel. You could help us end this.”

  “How? I’m just a girl from Los Angeles.”

  “You’re so much more than that, Ariel, and I wish I could tell you why without totally breaking your mind. I was hoping you’d have your memories if I ever found you. You should get to bed. We have to start out early in the morning to avoid any gangs on our way out of Washington.”

  Fuck. I thought I was getting somewhere I might find out something. I had no idea what Aeron meant about people being programmed and me being a wildcard. What did that even mean? I was so frustrated because I knew I would not find out for a long time. My memories would have to come back for Aeron to tell me certain things, and they were only coming in bits and pieces.

  I knew this conversation was over, so I left and went to my bedroom. I changed back into my yoga pants and slipped under the covers. I rested Smurfette on the pillow next to me. I already knew there was no way I could sleep unless she were next to me.

  I got a memory back when I was sleeping before. Maybe I’d get one again. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a nightmare this time.

  Chapter 10

  I

  am four years old. I’ve been dropped off at the bad place again. A man I love just walked away while I plead for him to stay. I can’t see his face. Only the back of his suit. The two nasty men in lab coats drag me back to a room. It’s the one room I don’t want to go to. There is pain in this room. This is the bad room.

  I can see the machine in the center of the room. It’s small. It’s my size. It’s just big enough for a four-year-old, and it’s filled with needles. When I see it, I fight. I fight every time they want to put me in the bad machine. It never works. They are so much bigger than I am.

  I will beat them this time. I’m not going in the machine. I manage to break free and run for the door. There’s a keypad to get out. I’m too short to reach it. My small fists pound on the door as I scream for someone to help me.

  The bad machine is loud. There are bright lights and a dome of needles. When they turn it on, there is a pounding noise and a bright light that hurts my eyes. The worst part is the needles. The needles press down and puncture my young flesh, even in my face. That is not happening to me today.

  Someone grabs me from behind, and I scream. They press their hands over my mouth and nose, and I can hardly breathe. They want me awake on the days they put me in the machine. Sometimes, when I fight, they will inject me with things that make me sleepy, but never on the days they use the bad machine.

  I can’t fight it. Two men hold me down as they strap me into the machine. They bring the cover down. I hear the pounding as it’s turned on. The bright lights start flashing. The needles come down towards my face.

  I woke up screaming. Why couldn’t my memories ever be pleasant? Aeron kicked the door down and stood in the door frame without a shirt on. I thought he would yell at me for being too noisy, but I saw a look of concern on his face.

  “Was it an awful memory?”

  I was still shaking, and there were tears on my face.

  “If that was real, I know why I have a problem with small spaces now.”

  Aeron’s b
reath hitched.

  “I’m sorry, Ariel. Do you want me to stay?”

  Did I? I wasn’t sure how much sleep I had gotten or what time it was. I knew I wasn’t getting back to sleep after that nightmare. I could really use the company.

  “Yeah, can you?”

  Aeron moved Smurfette so she was right between us and laid on top of the covers right next to me. This was so fucking awkward.

  “Was that real?” I asked.

  “Yes, it was.”

  “What was the point of that terrible machine?”

  “To take your blood while you were scared.”

  “Why would someone do that to me?”

  “It was part of a clinical trial. Your father signed you up. It was all very hush-hush, and they were eventually shut down.”

  “What were they trying to achieve torturing children? And why can’t I see my father’s face in all these memories?”

  “I suppose I can tell you this. You ended up hating your father. You got emancipated when you were fifteen and lived away from him. You put yourself through college and were a hard worker.”

  I was glad I ended up hating that fucker because when I was getting memories in my dreams, all I could feel was that I loved him, even if he was just walking away and leaving me in that terrible place. I hoped I eventually paid that bastard back for what he did to me when I was a child.

  “Will you tell me what I majored in?”

  Aeron always avoided touching me. When he had to, he did things like heaving me on his horse. His finger traced one of the cards on my arm. The Alice in Wonderland sleeves weren’t based on the Disney cartoons or the drawings from the book. They were totally original drawings. It was like a deck of cards exploded from my wrist, and characters from the Alice books intertwined with cards and roses.

  “You majored in art. You drew these, you know. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten the urge to draw.”

  I held my arm up and studied the art on my arm. Had I drawn this? That was pretty fucking cool. What else could I do?

  “Is there a way to get a pen and paper? If I can draw, maybe if I just sat there with a blank piece of paper and a pen, something might come out.”

  Aeron was lying next to me like a stick of wood. He wasn’t even looking at me. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was staring straight up at the ceiling.

  “It’s a good idea. The only place I can think of that might have the blank paper is your old apartment, if squatters haven’t moved in.”

  “I lived in Los Angeles, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Aeron? Was I at that research facility when you found me because my father was experimenting on me again?”

  Aeron looked like he wanted to say something, then stopped. Someone experimented on me when I was a child, and I somehow ended up at one again as an adult. Whatever happened there, I lost my memories. Did something happen there that was so horrible, I didn’t just block that out, I blocked everything out?

  “They weren’t experimenting on you there, Ariel. Please, don’t ask me more questions. We have to be up early in the morning, and we have a long day of travel ahead of us. Do you think you can get back to sleep?”

  “Aeron, I have a million questions—”

  “I know. And you’ll get them in time. Please, what can I do to get you to sleep?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I didn’t. Nothing would help me sleep right now. I was too keyed up. What the fuck happened to me, anyway?

  Aeron started singing softly. He had a good voice—soft and smooth with just the right amount of vibrato. As much as I didn’t want to, I felt my eyes getting heavier and heavier. Eventually, I fell asleep.

  Chapter 11

  A

  s gentle as Aeron was singing me some sort of lullaby when I had a bad dream, he was now trying to wake me up by poking the shit out of me and yelling in my face. Why couldn’t he be as sweet as last night all the time? He said people were programmed to act a certain way. Where was his switch to turn off asshole mode?

  I kept my eyes closed like I was still sleeping. I let out this groan like I would not wake up, even though his finger jabbing into my ribs had long woken me up. My hand darted out to the pillow. I didn’t think this would work, but I pounced and tried to smack him in the face with the pillow.

  Ha! I got him right in the nose. Aeron jumped out of bed and scowled at me.

  “Be serious. We’re about to head out on the open road. I need you alert, so you don’t get us both killed.”

  “Then don’t poke me like that. It hurts, and I don’t like it. Is there something wrong with waking me up like a normal person?”

  Aeron started grumbling, and I couldn’t make out some things he was muttering.

  “Get dressed and come out to the kitchen to eat. We need to leave soon.”

  I sighed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Someone had blacked out all the windows in this cabin, so I couldn’t even imagine if it was still dark out. Was there something wrong with me? I’d seen my reflection the first time I showered. I wasn’t totally gross looking. If you were into tattooed girls with pink hair, I could be considered arm candy in certain circles. Aeron treated me like I was repulsive. I knew he was poking me like that because it was the best way to wake me with as little contact as possible. Was he worried he would catch girl cooties?

  Aeron could suck my left nut. If his friends were as bad as he was, they could kill the president on their own. I got dressed and stomped into the kitchen. I wasn’t expecting a miracle for breakfast, but I smelled it as soon as I stepped in.

  “No, shit. Pancakes?”

  “Yeah. I found a jar of maple syrup in the supply closet. It goes without saying we won’t have nachos again, but as long as supplies last, I can make pancakes over a campfire. You may get sick of them.”

  I dug into the syrupy maple goodness and shoved it in my face. I moaned at the taste.

  “I have this feeling I’m not going to get sick of these.”

  Aeron cocked an eyebrow at me and looked totally uncomfortable.

  “Do you always make sex noises when you eat? You did it with the nachos too.”

  “What? Who knows when the last time I’ve eaten was? You won’t tell me how long I was at that facility, and I can’t remember.”

  “Don’t get used to this, Ariel. I’m good at finding food, but there will be times we are eating out of mystery cans, and that’s it. Sometimes, I find nothing when I’m hunting, and it’s rare I find a cabin like this. Sometimes, I do find a cabin with a generator, but then I can’t find gas.”

  “Yeah, I get it. I’m enjoying it while I have it. You should loosen up and make sex noises when you eat too. Come on, nachos and pancakes during the apocalypse? That can be better than sex.”

  Okay, Aeron was a total prude. He didn’t like the happy noises I made when I ate, and as soon as I mentioned sex, he totally closed up and left the room.

  “I will make sure we pack everything.”

  I had nachos. I suppose it was too much to ask that the hot guy who found me was also a little kinky. I’d settle for him being a little sweeter. For now, I was just going to enjoy these delicious pancakes and stop wishing for what I didn’t have. Aeron was who he was, grumpy fuck and all.

  Aeron didn’t come back in until I was long done with my breakfast, and he had already saddled the horse and tied all our bags to the saddle.

  “What’s the deal with your horse?”

  “We don’t have time for this, Ariel. Just know when it comes down to it, Meremoth will save your life. Now, shut up so we can leave.”

  I guess we were back to that. Aeron put me on the back of his horse like I was some infected Rage Head that he didn’t want to touch. A girl could get a complex at some point. Aeron hopped up behind me and kicked the horse again. We took off at that incredibly fast pace.

  “Don’t you need to pace your horse?”

  “The only way out of town to California is s
traight through Scooter’s territory. Meremoth can handle it. I told you, Scooter’s gang is heavily armed, and there are scouts everywhere. Now, be quiet, so we don’t get shot at.”

  Let’s all have a moment of silence and pray that this crazy demonic horse could get us the Hell out of this town before rapist cannibals started taking potshots at us. Smurfette was good at smashing brains, but she wasn’t a long-range weapon, and neither was Aeron’s sword. Who still fought with swords, anyway?

  Meremoth galloped through a dead town at a punishing pace. I gripped the pommel, and Aeron held my waist, so I didn’t fall off. We cut back through the main area that we looted and got on a road I didn’t recognize.

  I realized we were about to go deep into the shit when Aeron’s grip on my waist tightened. My eyes darted left and right, taking in my surroundings. I knew there was a good chance I wouldn’t be able to see them, but they could see me, and I didn’t like that.

  I was gripping Smurfette with my free hand and holding her across the saddle. She would be useless against a gun in the distance, but it was still comforting to have her with me. Where was everyone? I didn’t even see Rage Heads out here. They were fast, but they weren’t as fast as Meremoth. Still, I didn’t want a whole herd of them chasing us.

  I finally saw three Rage Heads milling about in the distance, and I’ll be totally fucked, but Aeron slowed the damned horse down and started yelling.

  “What are you doing?” I hissed.

  He had their attention now. They trained their red eyes on us, and I could hear their moans in the distance.

  “Come and get it, assholes!” Aeron yelled.

  This fucker would get me eaten. The three Rage Heads let out that wail like they were signaling for backup, and Aeron was just sitting on the back of his demonic horse and not getting us out of there. More Rage Heads started spilling out of the trees to see what the big fuss was. The road became this entire choir of Rage Head wails, and this was definitely a concert I didn’t want to attend.

 

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