“I don’t know what any of that means, and I’m sure you aren’t going to tell me, but I’m still alive. My memories are coming back. I might get us banished from California if I don’t magically remember how to give a tattoo, but I’m not dead yet. I may kill you because I get so pissed off at you that you are keeping secrets from me that don’t involve my memories.”
“You forget something, Ariel. Most of the things you are asking about, we’ve had that conversation before. I know exactly what your reaction was the first time I told you. I can’t keep you safe if you flip your shit and run.”
“Aeron, cannibal corpses are running around, and I slept through World War III. My father did experiments on me, and something in my blood reanimated corpses. I think I’m doing okay with fucked up.”
“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but things can and will get even more fucked up. I found you just in time.”
Aeron might frustrate the piss out of me, not telling me things, but I knew he was doing it to protect me. I hadn’t thought about the fact that he already knew how I would react because we’d had this conversation before. Aeron had spent this entire journey trying to make the apocalypse as less shitty for me as he could.
Aeron was doing all these things for me, and sure, I’d helped having his back looting stores, but I needed to do something for Aeron right now. I fought my way out of his arms and sat on his chest. I pinned his arms by his head, and he just let me. I got right by his face.
“Listen here, Aeron, with no last name. I will break your face if you keep insisting all of this is your fault. I don’t remember shit, but there’s one thing I do know. You will always find me. You will keep me safe no matter what. You always have a plan, even if it’s crazy and involves your horse murdering corpses. We went the long way, but we did finally meet in person, and I’m remembering. Eventually, I’ll remember everything, and you can tell me the truth. Even though I can’t remember everything we talked about and you frustrate the shit out of me, I’m glad it was you that found me. I’m glad I’m on the road with you. I’m glad you kissed me that day, and I want more kisses. I enjoy sleeping in your arms. I want—”
Aeron didn’t let me finish. He wrestled me onto my back, and now I was the one pinned down. His silver eyes were doing that thing again where I swore they were glowing. He nipped at my nose.
“Speedy wants more kisses?”
Aeron looked flat out dangerous right now, and I didn’t care. I liked Aeron like this. I could feel his erection pressing against my stomach, so I started grinding against it.
“I want it all, Aeron. I want you.”
The fire went out in his eyes. He rested his forehead on mine.
“This is wrong. You don’t remember me.”
“Does it count that I like every frustrating inch of you I’ve managed to get to know since I woke up?”
Aeron let out this frustrated roar and flopped on his back.
“I want to, Speedy. More than you could possibly know. But not until you have your memories back and not until you know the truth about everything. We should find food.”
Who knew amnesia was such a cockblocker?
Chapter 24
I
thought Aeron would take it easy now that we weren’t surrounded by Rage Heads and humans who had gone feral and were eating people. But no, we were back on the road at a punishing pace, and I just wanted to slow down. Even though a lot of the buildings were still rubble, and they were trying to get the grass to grow again, they had gotten a lot rebuilt. California was a paradise compared to the rest of the world.
I wanted to stay here longer, but really, I just wanted to avoid Sacramento. Aeron was taking us there as fast as he could. We stayed at the hotel rooms Jade had given him. We had hot showers and hot meals every night, and I was grateful for that. It was nice going to bed with a full belly and being able to change my clothes every day. Aeron made one stop to pick up underwear for both of us so I had more than three pairs.
I was sure the street signs in California had been vandalized at one point, but someone took them down and replaced them with wooden signs. After days of riding, my stomach dropped to my feet when I saw the sign that we were entering Sacramento. I gripped his arm. I would have felt better with Smurfette in my grip, but I strapped her to the back of Meremoth because of California rules.
“Do I have to do this?”
“I have faith in you, Speedy.”
Aeron brought Meremoth up to a high-rise building with the side blown out. It looked like they were in the process of repairing it. We dismounted and went inside. Someone had wired it so it still had electricity, but we still took the stairs. I hoofed it up thirty flights of stairs to the top floor, and my thighs were screaming at me.
The entire top floor looked like Jade’s throne room. They had knocked all the walls down. She was sitting in a La-Z-Boy recliner surrounded by people with guns and satellite phones. She grinned when she saw us, but she didn’t stand up.
“Well, well. I’ve been waiting to meet you since I heard you were here. Why weren’t you in California when this all went down?”
“I kind of got a little kidnapped.”
Jade cocked an eyebrow at me. Aeron was right. She was tiny. She probably came up to my armpits, and she was dressed in all leather. Her hair was bright red and flowed down her back like a crimson river. She had a considerable septum ring in her nose. I had a feeling I would like her if I didn’t fuck up her tattoo, and she killed me.
“And no one ate you? You don’t look like some gang ran you ragged using you as bait. Were you eating people, Speedy?”
“I was in a coma. Aeron found me. I’m sorry, but all my memories are gone. They are coming back in pieces. I don’t remember a fucking thing about giving a tattoo. I’ll probably end up permanently messing you up.”
“Nonsense,” Jade said, lighting up a homemade cigarette. “I saw you at a tattoo convention. You were one of the top speakers. I stood in line for hours to get a tattoo from you. The line was out the fucking door, and I missed you. You were always booked a year in advance, and I never knew when I would end up in Los Angeles to book that far out. Now that you’re here, I’m getting my tattoo, but my idea has changed.”
“Yes, but even with all that backstory, the fact that I can’t remember how hasn’t changed.”
“I know. I have a plan. Do you see this pumpkin at my feet? They are in high demand, and I had one in my vegetable basket this week. I’m forgoing pumpkin pie so you can figure it out on my pumpkin. If you do it, you tattoo me. If the pumpkin is a hot mess, then you’ll just have to come back to California and do it when you get your memories back.”
At least Jade wasn’t totally insane and setting me loose on her body with a tattoo gun. It still didn’t solve the problem that I wasn’t sure if I could even draw. I hadn’t had access to pencils and paper, though sometimes, my hand felt like it should have something in it to sketch with.
One of the gang members presented me with a sketch pad and a pen. It felt like a missing part of me came back when I fitted the pencil in my hand. Maybe I could still draw.
“What do you want me to draw?”
“Okay, I want it on my chest so everyone can see it. I want you to tattoo me on a throne surrounded by zombie heads on pikes. But I want it done Sailor Jerry style.”
All of that made sense to some part of my lizard brain. I could already see it in my head and was plotting my lines. I guess I remembered how to draw. I plopped on the floor with my sketch pad in front of Jade.
“Do you want the La-Z-Boy as the throne, or do you want me to improvise?”
“Are you kidding? I want the La-Z-Boy. When this all started out, me and all the girls holed up in a furniture store right near the strip club. We all claimed a recliner and made it our bed. There was a little family-owned grocery store nearby that we could loot. We finally said enough was enough and started taking to the streets to save people when the war started.
“One
of the bombs landed in our furniture shop. We weren’t there at the time, thank god. But when we visited the rubble, there was my fucking recliner without a scratch on it. This is my lucky recliner, and it deserves to be inked on my chest.”
I had a lucky blue baseball bat named Smurfette. She had a lucky recliner. Everyone had the right to be weird right now. I chewed on my bottom lip and focused on my drawing. This just felt right. The scratch of the pen against the paper felt like the first normal thing I’d done since I woke up from that coma, even if I was about to draw a woman dressed like a dominatrix in a recliner surrounded by zombie heads Sailor Jerry style.
This wasn’t freaking me out anymore. Jade would not kill me or banish us if I fucked this up. She gave me an out and gave up something she wanted to so I could practice first. She was quite reasonable, which was probably why California was being run so well.
I had a flash of memory. I didn’t have a printer with the right paper or anything to transfer this design to her skin when I was done. If they had tracing paper and Speedstick deodorant, it would work in a pinch. I thought that would be way too much to ask for, but Jade managed to produce some.
She had a nice little setup for me to tattoo her on if I could manage the pumpkin. I held up my drawing for her approval.
“Ha! I love it. I really hope you can pull it off on my pumpkin because I’m dying to sport that right across my chest. And I want it as colorful as possible.”
I was feeling a little better about this. Holding Smurfette in my hand made it feel like all my missing memories weren’t totally horrible, but getting the part of myself back that liked to draw was just a silver lining in the middle of all this shit.
“Can I keep this sketch pad and pen?”
Jade grinned at me. “I got them for you. Things may have gone to shit, but an artist should still be able to create.”
“Okay, let me at that pumpkin.”
Aeron had been silent this entire time, but when I stood up, he was right there and pulled me into a huge hug. Jade let out a wolf whistle as I stood there pressed against his hard chest.
“You can do this, Speedy. You can do anything you want. You always have.”
Aeron had all this faith in me. He handed me my bat like he just knew I could defend myself getting out of that hospital, even though I had no idea who I was. I needed to have more faith in myself.
I didn’t make a stencil for the pumpkin. I was just going to practice. I picked up the tattoo gun. It was heavier than the pencil, but the weight just felt right in my hand. There were little cups for the ink. This was familiar. I used to be able to do this in my sleep. I could do this.
I squirted gel on my paper towel and situated my ink cups in it so they wouldn’t fall over. I kicked the gun on and felt the vibrations in my arm. I knew this. I could remember a little. I spent years apprenticing with the best tattoo artist in Los Angeles before I opened my own shop with a great artist I’d met and bonded with at a tattoo convention.
I just knew as I started working on the pumpkin. I knew how much pressure. I knew how deep to go without scarring and I knew how to blend to make just the right color palette. I worked in a haze. I had an image in my head, and I just needed to get it out on the tattoo. I couldn’t even say what it was if someone asked me what it was. I would have been pissed if they broke my concentration.
I turned the gun off and stepped back. I didn’t even know what I had tattooed on this pumpkin. I looked to see what it was. Aeron peered over my shoulder. I had tattooed four stylized horse heads. One was the color of Meremoth, one was black, one was red, and the other was white. Was this some memory because it didn’t make sense?
“What does it mean?” I asked Aeron.
“It means you are getting closer to getting your memories back. And it means you can give Jade something she’s been wanting for years. You can spread some light during all this mess.”
“That looks like Meremoth and his brothers. If I never met you before and Meremoth scares the shit out of me, how do I know what his brothers look like?”
“In time, Speedy. Get that tattoo done because I think more of your memories will come back when I get you home.”
Chapter 25
I
had so many questions about those four horses I tattooed on the pumpkin, but I knew Aeron would not tell me yet, and I had a job to do. Maybe it would all make sense when we got to Los Angeles. I didn’t want to think about why I was drawing strange things on pumpkins. I didn’t want to think about bombed-out landscapes or corpses that chased you.
I wanted to feel normal for a few hours, so I threw myself into doing Jade’s tattoo. It just felt right, like I was supposed to be doing this. It took several hours, but I eventually finished it. Jade was ecstatic and walked around the entire top floor in just her leather bra to show it off. That was the kind of happy customer I liked.
Jade wouldn’t let us leave until she threw a tattoo celebration. It was a strange party, but there was alcohol. Most of it was moonshine and hooch, and I was pretty sure I would end up with hair on my chest after drinking it. They’d made this endless supply of dips from local produce and dairy.
By the time we got back to the hotel room, I had passed out. Aeron was nowhere near as drunk as the Wild Turkey incident and had to hold my hair back while I puked. How mortifying. He was very gentle when he helped me to bed.
I was hungover as all fuck the next morning, but Aeron wasn’t going easy on me. He woke me up at the ass crack of dawn, and I was on the back of Meremoth after breakfast. If I thought riding that horse sober was scary, trying to hang onto that saddle with a raging headache, while I felt like barfing, was much worse.
Aeron kept a punishing pace to Los Angeles. We stopped to sleep only when curfew started, and we would have gotten arrested for being on the street. We were back on the road as soon as curfew allowed us to be back on the street.
I was so tired, but at least I was clean, and my belly was full. I could deal with that because I think we were both banking on a lot of my memories returning at my apartment. Jade’s gift was also paying off. That sketch pad was coming in handy, and we’d eventually have to find another.
Before bed, I would sit with my sketch pad and sort of go into this trance. Some things I drew made little sense at all like the four horses. Most of the pictures Aeron would explain to me. The first photo I drew was my father, as I last saw him. Aeron confirmed that for me. I drew him in a trance with devil horns and 666 written across his forehead.
I drew more scenes like the Alice in Wonderland tattoos on my arms. Aeron explained they were my favorite books as a child. My father never gave me any or read to me. It was the only book appropriate for children in his library. I stole them and read them cover to cover all the time. I took his first edition copies when I ran away. Aeron swore they were still at my apartment where I’d left them. He also promised there were still sketchpads all over the place, and he’d make room in his saddlebags so I could take as many as he could carry and us still eat.
I was antsy, and the closer we got to Los Angeles, the more my anxiety grew. What if we got to my apartment, and I didn’t remember a fucking thing? What if it seemed like a stranger’s home? I knew that would break me. Aeron put all his stock and planned his route to Mexico with a stop there. He had all his hopes in that apartment triggering some of my memories.
It was contagious. I had been gung-ho to get there and start remembering too. But memory loss was tricky. Aeron couldn’t even tell me anything because of how it was done to me. My dreams were sporadic. I didn’t have them every night. Sometimes, they were pleasant and didn’t help me with this puzzle involving my father. Sometimes they were horrible nightmares about the experiments that were done on me when I was a child. I hated those dreams. Whatever they were trying to do, they needed me totally terrorized to do it.
I thought I would have a panic attack when I saw the sign we were entering Los Angeles. Aeron tightened his arm around my waist and nuzzled
my neck. He seemed to know exactly what was going on with my lizard brain.
“It’s just an apartment, Speedy. Even if you don’t remember a thing, you can grab new clothes and some sketchpads. You can look around and see what kind of person you used to be, even if you don’t remember a thing. You’ve faced countless Rage Heads. Don’t be afraid of your old home.”
“I’m scared I will get there and it will not trigger anything. Or, what if triggers too much and I go crazy?”
“Do you trust me, Speedy?”
“Even though you won’t tell me your last name, I do.”
Aeron kissed the top of my head.
“I really don’t have a last name. Would you prefer I lie and make one up? If you don’t remember anything, ask questions, and I’ll try to answer what I can. If it’s getting to be too much, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and get you out of there.”
I saw a building up ahead. I knew that building. I was friendly with the doorman. He buzzed me in every day, and he was great about keeping roller derby and softball stalkers out of my building.
“That’s my building,” I said, pointing.
It looked like it survived the bomb blasts, but I think it must have been in better shape when I lived here before. Dirt covered all the windows, and the paint had faded and was flaking off. I couldn’t remember their names, but I think I had been on friendly terms with all of my neighbors.
“What happened to the other people that lived here?”
“Some of them turned into Rage Heads and were eventually killed when California came together. Your neighbor Miss Mabel is still next door. She has to be ninety, and she beat me with a broom when she saw me going into your apartment. Every time I come back through here and check on your place, she threatens me with it. Did you know brooms hurt when you get whacked on the head with one?”
I saw a flash. My next-door neighbor was like a surrogate mother to me. I picked up her cigarettes and Mountain Dew and visited with her after every softball game. She always had homemade cookies waiting and wanted to know all about my game. She’d also told me she knew people who could take care of the softball stalkers. From what I could remember about her, it would take more than some cannibal corpses and bombs to kill Miss Mabel. I was glad she was still here.
The Pale Rider Page 11