This Burning Man (Future Arizona Book 1)

by Kris Holt

  'There ain't no real settlements. There are bandits and thieves. Killers. All sorts of weird, freakin' wild animals. Things that science can't explain. They say if you go far enough, it's like stepping into another world. Someone wants to disappear, it's the place to go.'

  'You think she wanted to disappear?'

  I thought about it, thought about the signs. I had no way of knowing whether Duguid had been right about my mom's troubled mind. Looking back now, I could remember long silences, times that we didn't talk. But everyone's got a right to space in their own head. Who could say what else was going on in there?

  'I don't know,' I admitted. 'I know she was looking for someone, but that's not much to go on. She was a hunter. But going more than a hundred miles into the Sands...that's different. I make a decent living and I ain't never needed to travel half that distance. I've spent all my adult life out in the Sands and I'm sure I ain't seen more than a tiny bit of it.'

  Jayci looked at me properly then, like she was seeing me for the first time. She done screwed up her eyes like she was looking at the sun. I could practically hear her thinking.

  Finally, she said, 'I ain't gonna promise you nothin', Phoenix. But maybe, just maybe, I can help you.'

  'How can you help me?' I asked.

  For the briefest of moments, Jayci's eyes flashed with something other than her customary anger. 'Because I know a man that knows the Sands.'

  Chapter 7 - The Man with the Map in his Head

  'Nobody knows the Sands.'

  'Okay. So nobody knows the Sands better than Gregor.' Jayci slipped a key out of her pocket and into the lock first time. Rather than opening the door all the way, she eased it just an inch or two and squinted through the gap.

  I glanced around and behind us. One or two rubberneckers in the mid distance looked away. 'What's up? I thought this was your place?'

  She shifted her angle, eased the door a little more. 'It is my place. For a given value of “mine”, anyway.'

  'Then what's the hold up?'

  'I can hear him in there. He don't always react well to new people.'

  'Should I be getting my gun out?'

  'Ain't no need for that,' Jayci said. 'He's just nervous, is all.'

  Jayci opened the door all the way and motioned me inside. I followed her lead through the backroom to a dingy front studio that looked out onto the main street. A low-slung blind kept the whole place in semi-darkness. In the midst of that darkness, a bulky shadow was moving back and forth, making a swishing noise as it did so.

  'Gregor? You in here?'

  'You need to get some light in here,' I said.

  'Jayci? Is that you?' The shadow moved quickly towards us and a narrow bar of light cut across the gloom. The man before me was perfectly round, folds of fat over rows of muscle. The top half of his face was all shiny dimpled forehead, the lower half a scruffy beard and moustache. His mean eyes and hooked nose took up a space somewhere in the middle that was about the size of my thumbnail.

  Gregor carefully leaned the brush that he'd been using to sweep the floor against the wall nearby. Then he began to rub his hands together and stared straight at me, unblinking. 'Jayci, there's a stranger in my house.'

  'Your house, huh?' I said, side-eyeing Jayci.

  Gregor continued. 'You know I don't like strangers. Also, this particular stranger has a gun and unwanted opinions on how we do things.'

  Jayci moved between us, touched Gregor's arm and began to whisper to him. I took the time to look around the room. One corner was occupied by a rancid-looking sofa. In front of that was a low table with a single magazine on it and two ancient office chairs that were facing into mirrors. One had a white porcelain sink beneath it.

  'Gregor does a bit of everything,' Jayci explained, following my gaze. 'Cuts hair, does tattoos. He knows science and engineering. He's a brilliant artist. In fact, he's an all-round fucking genius.'

  I had to duck low to see out of the blind. 'Whatever he is, y'all ain't getting many customers if people don't know that you're open.' When I turned around, Gregor's expression didn't exactly look come hither.

  'Believe it or not, Phoenix is sometimes okay. And when he remembers his manners,' and here Jayci shot me a venomous look, 'he'll introduce himself. Won't you, Phoenix?'

  'Pleasure,' I said, waving half-heartedly. Immediately Gregor leaned in and the two shared a furious whispered exchange which I could definitely have heard if I'd cared enough to listen. While they bickered, I moved around the room at a leisurely pace, checking out Gregor's meagre possessions and testing the furniture to see which was the most comfortable to sit on.

  When they were done talking, Gregor shook his head, pulled a face like a man drinking piss and muttered as he sloped away to the far end of the room. His accent was strange, unplaceable, but I knew he wasn't local. But then, what did that mean these days, really? We were all just random mutts who fell into the sand when everything got turned upside down.

  Jayci turned back to me, an exaggerated smile on her face. 'Now, you probably noticed that Gregor here doesn't appreciate your ready wit, so it'd be real helpful if you'd pick a chair and stop stamping around like you own the place.'

  I followed Jayci's suggestion, sitting down, folding my hands across my lap and nodding amiably at Gregor. For his part, he just stared straight back. You wouldn't have needed a knife to cut the tension. You could have done it with one of Preacher Man's wooden spoons.

  'Well, this is nice.' Jayci sighed after a few seconds of silence. 'I'm going to sort us out some drinks. In the meantime, why don't you boys get acquainted?'

  She disappeared into the back room, but not before giving me a look that could have scorched metal. That girl would have made a fine schoolteacher.

  When she'd gone, I studied Gregor's expression. It was the same as it had been throughout, just like a bulldog chewing on a lime. I said, 'Y'know, with your face all screwed up like that, you could be scowling and I just wouldn't know it.'

  'You're an idiot,' he said.

  Jayci returned moments later with three of the muddiest coffees I'd ever seen. 'Don't get excited, it's pretty awful,' she said. I sipped at it. It was bitter and sweet and foul all at once. Still, it was something to focus on that wasn't the atmosphere in the room.

  'So where did you fine folks meet?' I asked.

  Gregor pulled a face at Jayci and she nodded. He took a deep breath before answering the question. 'Some time ago, I did a stint in the Pen.'

  'You were in prison?'

  Gregor shrugged. Jayci said, 'I bailed him out.'

  'I never asked her to,' Gregor said.

  'He never had to,' she said, turning back to me. 'Gregor stood out. It was pretty clear that he had some special skills that made him different to the typical mouthbreeders they get in there.'

  I sipped at the coffee. The second taste was no better than the first. 'So what did you do?'

  'What everyone does,' Jayci said. 'He upset the wrong man. Fortunately for him, the hunter who came after him was a professional and not some no-good, two-bit gunslinger with more teeth than brains. Gregor came quiet, we had a little chat and came to an arrangement.'

  I looked at her. Her braids were dragging along the floor between her legs. 'And what exactly do you get out of this?' I asked.

  'Free board, for starters,' she said. 'But more than that. Back before his trip to the Pen, Gregor used to make a living travelling through the desert and collecting old tech. He repairs things, or builds 'em new from parts. He constructed the hovertrike I came in on. Best of all, he has a photographic memory. Everywhere he's been, he remembers the way back. It's like he's carrying a map in his head.'

  My ears pricked up.

  Jayci leaned in towards me. 'And Gregor's been everywhere.'

  The man himself rubbed his hairy jowls. 'I was out in the Sands, scavenging every day for years. It's actually a pretty empty place for the most part. Far fewer people than the city.'

  I was skeptical. 'You ever run
into bads?'

  'Sometimes,' he said. 'But I'm not a hunter. I don't carry a gun. Most people will walk away if you let them.'

  'Most people?' He just stared back without saying a word. I tried to work out just how Gregor might have ended up in the Pen.

  I could sense Jayci waiting for me. I wanted to ask the question, and they knew how much I needed the answer. It was like playing poker when your opponents held all the cards. Still, getting beat and losing my shirt had to be better than drinking any more of that coffee.

  So I said, 'You ever hear of an oasis in the desert where a gang of women hole up?'

  'Yes,' he said, never skipping a beat. 'I know of it.'

  'You ever been there?'

  Jayci stepped in before I could ask any more. 'What my esteemed companion means is that he knows a place like the one you're describing. But before he can tell you how to get there, you're going to have to help us out with a little supply run.'

  'Let me guess,' I said. 'In the Sands.'

  Gregor pulled out a piece of paper and began to draw a map with a small chunk of pencil. 'There's an abandoned village I found some time ago, about sixty miles west-northwest. The schoolhouse was pretty much intact and there looked like there might have been some interesting stuff there.'

  I looked at the pair of them seated together, one grinning ghoulishly and the other rubbing his hands so intently it was like he was washing them in the air. 'Why didn't you check it out when you were there?'

  'The place wasn't normal. The energy there was...wrong.' He looked away for the first time, like he knew he was selling me a horse that was lame.

  'Energy?' I said to Jayci.

  She smiled back. 'Not my words. Don't look at me.'

  Bad juju. 'Great,' I said.

  'What's a bunch of downer vibes when you're badass enough to take down a giant by accident?' Jayci had me over a barrel and she knew it. 'You want to know where that oasis is at, and we're gonna make it happen for you. In the meantime, you can help us out a little.'

  She leaned forward once again as Gregor sat back, and they looked for all the world like two misshapen levers on a chaos engine. Jayci offered me a hand to shake, and I stared for a moment at her calloused yellow palm.

  'You know,' I said to her, 'trusting this to you feels like a pretty damn stupid idea.'

  Jayci's tombstone grin didn't falter. 'The great thing is, Phoe-Phoe, you don't have any choice.'

  Chapter 8 – Back to School

  'So what's the deal with you two anyway?'

  'Deal?' Jayci replied. 'Why does there need to be a deal?'

  It could have been my imagination, but it kind of looked a bit like Jayci had a spring in her step this morning. She'd been smiling as she'd been checking and loading her kit, and I swear I heard her humming as she parked up the hovertrike.

  'C'mon now,' I said. 'Don't bullshit me.'

  'What? You saw how it is. Gregor has his ways. He has a skillset. He knows about interesting places. You might say he's highly-strung. He gets spooked real easy, he's not exactly a fast mover and he refuses to carry a gun. So when I'm travelling this far out, it's handy to have someone else there.'

  'So after all your fine words about being able to look after yourself...'

  'Oh, can it, laser boy. I don't need you there looking over my shoulder. You're an insurance policy, is all. Though I might need those measly muscles of yours to help me load some of the loot onto the hovertrike, though.'

  'So I'm the muscle?'

  Jayci stuck out her tongue at me. 'Dumb muscle, at that.'

  'Touché. So do we even know where we are?' I said.

  'Sixty miles west-northwest,' she replied. In the distance, we could see the top of a rusting water tower. 'Less about a hundred yards or so.'

  'How can you be sure?'

  The girl raised an eyebrow and span round quick enough that her braids trailed like drag ropes. She grinned at me, and flashed a piece of paper in my direction. 'Gregor's map is precise.'

  I reached for it, only for her to pull it back at the last moment. 'Can I see?' I asked.

  'Nope,' she said, smiling smugly, before folding the paper up small and sliding it down her top.

  'This is not an equitable arrangement.'

  'Did Gregor teach you them words?' When she saw my expression, she rolled her eyes. 'Oh, c'mon. Lighten up, Phoe-phoe. This is a proper adventure, right? Chance to make a little money, have a little fun.'

  'Chance to get shot up by random strangers in the middle of nowhere.'

  'Yeah, well, better that than go missing in the night.' Our eyes met for a moment, and hers looked down. 'Sorry, I didn't mean nothing. Just weren't thinking.'

  Jayci was forthright, but I didn't think she'd been malicious for the sake of it, so I let it go. I waited while she parked up the hovertrike between two low dunes and marked it with a long piece of petrified wood that she found wedged in some rocks.

  She stepped back to admire her handywork, glanced around for high places and movement. This far out, the sand moved with the air, and it was hard to see anything at all beyond the whistling grit.

  'Reckon that's good?' she asked.

  'Good as anything,' I said.

  'C'mon then.' She slipped her jacket off her shoulders and dropped her water canister in the sand beneath the trike.

  'You're leaving your water?'

  She shrugged. Her shoulders were narrow, and you could see the blades poking out her back like broken kites. 'It’s heavy to carry. If someone runs off with the trike, you ain't walking home on one can.' It was a fair point, but carrying my can was an old habit, and old habits are hard to break.

  We pulled scarves across our faces to keep out as much of the sand as we could and scuffed our way across the heavy dust path into town. As villages went, it weren't much. Half a dozen buildings that were pretty much shells, half a dozen more that were just piles of rubble. We walked up to the nearest one. Yellow buffelgrass was bunched up beneath the decay. Drywall was peeling away from the timbers. The wood itself was scorched and wedged into right angles. It looked like ribs exposed under torn flesh.

  'I'm not seeing my fortune here,' I said.

  'You gotta look a little closer,' she whispered, pointing at the largest of the intact buildings. 'School house has gotta be that one over there. That's my baby.'

  She peeled away from me, and pointed at the next house along. 'Go that way. Be careful. Sometimes people left traps if they was planning on coming back. It's good to find them before they find you, if you know what I mean.'

  I had my stripes in staking out these kinda places. Watching the ground all the way, I held my breath as I stepped towards the broken down house in front of me. Without the shade, the air was baking and it felt like you needed two breaths to get air for one. Out back, behind the house, a concrete cylinder that once held water or petrol was crumbling away in the wind. The metal cords that ran through the structure poked out and turned in on one another like army bootlaces.

  Behind that, in a toolbox, I found a leaking battery and a shattered solar cell, neither of which was usable. The next house looked little better than the first, with stark red initials painted onto the sides. Whether it was graffiti or a warning to looters, I couldn't tell. Most of the front wall was missing, with the door hanging on a single hinge and creaking away.

  Stepping inside, I used one of the broken timbers to prod at the floor, testing to see if it would hold my weight. There was an open fridge in the back, lying on its side. The contents had long since gone rotten and been smeared across the insides. I wondered whether the scavengers were human or animal.

  I walked through the house, prodding away with the timber as I went, avoiding the places where the floor or the ceiling sagged. The windows across the back of the house – probably a kitchen, I figured – had long since been smashed, and now even the frames were crumbling. I opened the drawers one by one, finding nothing but nests of desert creatures that fled for cover from the sudden light.
r />   I’d pretty much given up hope of finding anything valuable by the time I opened the final cupboard. There was a collection of pipes here from a sink or something. Squeezed in the back behind them was a small dark box that could have been missed by people leaving in a hurry.

  It was rectangular, about the size of a bullet box you might pick up at the market. Squeezing it open with sweaty palms, I could see that the back of the box was wadded with a soft material, like it was some kind of display case. When I flipped the lid, two small silver coins were nestled in the wadding. The one on the left had the profile of a man with a stooping brow and long hair tied down at the side. The other bore a picture of a long, bull-like creature with wide shoulders tapering down to a narrow ass. Around it were written the words, ‘United States of America’ and ‘Five cents’.