This Burning Man (Future Arizona Book 1)

by Kris Holt

  I was still leaning on the wall, dripping with sick sweat, my face numb and neutral when they approached.

  'Rat,' I said, my mouth parched.

  'They took her,' Gregor said. 'They captured them all. I saw it with my own eyes.'

  'And you did nothing.'

  'What was I supposed to do? I didn't even have a gun. I wasn't about to let them capture me too.'

  Jayci stepped between us. 'Everyone does what they gotta. We've no time to fight amongst ourselves. Clear?'

  Maybe it was enough to know that Rat was alive – or had been when they'd taken her. 'Mama Smokes' girls have taken huge losses,' I said.

  'I know.' Jayci was every kind of practical, and her eyes could be hard and soft all at once. 'I saw what you did to Di Vio's cannon. Nice work.'

  Gregor broke in again. 'Look at the sun. Feel the heat. The perihelion is coming. Even when the sun sets, the light will be so strong that we'll be lit up like daytime. We need to get to the caves as soon as possible.'

  'First, we need to get our people,' I said.

  Jayci wrenched at her struggling burden. On the end of the rope was one of Di Vio's underlings, bound, gagged and terrified.

  'We're going to get them,' she said, 'and this guy's going to tell us where to find them.'

  Chapter 31 – Taking it to the Man

  'I don't know what he wants them for!'

  Jayci's prisoner was kneeling in the dust, hand outstretched to try and buy himself some distance. At first, I thought Jayci might want to be the one doing the questioning, but she'd deferred to Mar without so much as an argument. In fact, since she'd got back to camp, Jayci had taken a full step back. She was standing on the fringes, calm, ready, but not part of what followed. She was ready to chase Di Vio's army down, alone if need be, punch straight through them and be hiding in the mountains by sunset. But Mama Smokes was leader of this band and Mama was more patient, more inclined to plan.

  Mar, meanwhile, was straight to the point. Her expression could have curdled milk.

  'I think you know why he wants them,' she said, her voice low and dangerous. 'I think it has everything to do with the fact that the end of the world is here, and in all the time we've seen Di Vio and his army, we've not seen a single woman at any point.'

  Mama Smokes had a cheroot lit and was letting it burn away in her hand. 'Your boss wouldn't have 'em all taken to the compound. He knows we won't abandon anyone, so he'll split the group up. Half to the mountains, half somewhere else a ways away.'

  'I don't know what you're talking about.' The prisoner wouldn't look at her.

  Cassie and Mar glanced at one another. 'Their celebration is starting out in the desert on the other side of Hole Town tonight.'

  The cheroot continued to smoke in the silence, the orange tip shrinking away until it seemed to be resting on the old soldier's fingers.

  'You know his plan, don't you?' she said to the prisoner, finally. 'He's going to condemn a whole town to death by leading them out into the desert when they could be heading for safety.'

  The prisoner snarled, 'There's only so much water and food stored. It's survival of the fittest. I'm sure that's a concept your little bitch pack can get behind.'

  'So you know the plan, and you ain't no-one special.'

  'You don't even know my name.'

  Mama Smokes chewed on her dog-end. 'That's 'cos I don't care to ask you what it is. But you know the plan, so everyone knows the plan. Which means it's straightforward, and planned well in advance. With the town at the funfair, you guys swoop in there to pick up your buddies and then head hell for leather back home in time for the sun to rise and burn everything to a crisp.'

  The prisoner stared back, giving his best impression of a man resigned to death. 'I ain't ashamed of this. It's the end of the goddamn world. We gotta do what it takes to save the race, to save ourselves. Whatever else happens to 'em, the girls they take to the compound will get to live. Which is more than can be said for the rest of you.'

  That guy probably looked into more dead eyes right there than an undertaker in his whole career.

  'It's fair to say you've lost your audience. On your feet,' Mar said. The prisoner stood up slowly. The girl nodded to the distant horizon and said, 'Run.'

  He waited a moment, and so did I. I was expecting Cassie to slide a round into the chamber of her rifle, but there was no movement.

  'You're gonna shoot me when I turn my back,' he said.

  Cassie just sat impassively, a small, strange smile on her face. Mar replied, 'We ain't gonna waste the bullet. You think you're gonna walk halfway across the desert before sunrise?'

  He didn't have a reply for that one.

  I watched him, and they were watching him too, and I'm guessing that that thought musta been playing on his mind, 'cause about fifty yards out, he stole a glance over his shoulder and made a beeline through the sand for a trike that had tipped on its side and was lying on the top of a dune. I'd taken two steps in his direction before Mar put her arm out to block my path.

  'No,' she said.

  I watched and waited, saw him get it upright, kick it into life and climb aboard.

  'We need those trikes,' I said. The camp's petrol store was a distant memory thanks to Nate Di Vio's supercannon.

  'I know,' Mar said, her arm unmoving.

  He reached the top of the next dune along when Cassie finally began to move. She cracked the rifle, slipped in a round, pulled it upright and pressed the stock into her shoulder in a single fluid movement.

  Three hundred yards out, he began to weave left and right along the ridge of the dune, aiming to head over the top and to safety as soon as the sand beneath became shallow enough.

  You know what happened next. I'd already turned away to watch Cassie as the shot rang out. In the instant before she pulled the trigger, she made one movement - just one – adjusting for all of his. When she lowered the rifle, I studied her face carefully. For a while, I'd wondered if her aloof manner came down to the fact that she just didn't care for people at all.

  There was pride there, of course there was. It was a job well done, after all. But in her eyes, I could see that it wasn't that she didn't care, but that maybe she cared too much. If you were Cassie's people, that was good enough for her, and she'd do what it took, whether she agreed with you or not. That didn't mean that it sat easy with her.

  Mar lowered her arm and walked away without another word, the better to prepare.

  Cassie remained, standing still, inscrutable once more. Doing my best to read her mind, I said, 'Don't sweat it. You had no choice.'

  'Neither did he,' she replied. And she was right.

  Still, that moment might have been the first one that I began to warm to her.

  In the distance, the trike, shorn of its rider, pulled a lazy u-turn and came to a stop on the tip of the ridge. After a minute or two, a carrion bird began to circle.

  ---

  Things happened quickly after that. We had no time to stop and take stock. People got to trikes, either their own or those scavenged from the dead. I found a two-person trike with a half tank of petrol and a minimum of fuselage damage. I'd just got it upright when Mar roared up beside me.

  'Hurry up and get yourself sorted,' Mar said. 'I need you at the celebration.'

  I kicked at the starter. It spluttered. 'I'm going to find Rat,' I said.

  'We're going for all our people.'

  I was with her on that, but every minute was making me feel worse. Night had fallen, but the air was hotter than day and the sky was qualmish. Yellow like jaundice, like a migraine, like a sick dog. My temper was short and bits of me were starting to stick to other bits.

  Jayci appeared at Mar's elbow.

  I gestured to the space behind me, expecting her to hop on. Instead, she turned to Mar.

  'We're working on a way to get us from the celebration to the caves in time.'

  'You need to speak to Mama,' Mar replied.

  'Already sorted. We're doing wha
t needs to be done,' Jayci said. She pointed to Gregor, who was being led away gently by a group of the outlaws' own engineers. 'If you guys have the tools, I have the genius.'

  'There's a store of electrical supplies in the workshop,' Mar said. 'The group's been scavenging in the wastes for years. Get your man working as fast as you can, though. We don't have time for bells and whistles. This is time for duct tape and prayers.'

  Jayci shrugged. 'It's what he does best.' Then she turned to me. 'Sorry, but you're gonna have to do this one without me. I need to stay and keep him focused on the job.'

  'Sure.'

  'Try not to get shot again, okay?' She grinned at me, all crooked teeth, and just for a second, held the fabric of her dress tight across her breasts.

  'I got that,' I said, and pressed the starter again. This time it kicked in.

  Cass appeared on her own trike, gun slung across her back. 'Ready,' she said.

  I looked around, but it seemed like just the three of us were formed up.

  'Nobody else?'

  'We're the scouting party. Gotta call in the heat to the chuck wagon.' There was a group of other girls preparing in the distance behind us. What was shocking was just how few remained. I found myself hoping Gregor had something substantial up his sleeve.

  The trikes ate up the miles in no time, and the hissing sound of the engines tried to lull my mind as they blew away the sand beneath them. There was no getting away from this, though - up to this point, I'd been thinking about how the group would save itself, but we were going to need to save the whole population of Hole Town. They'd be out in the desert, drinking, fighting, having a good time - they weren't to know that they were in danger.

  They were going to find out. I was gonna tell them.

  I was so absorbed in my plans for what would happen when I arrived that I was slow to realize the others were pulling up. I had to brake sharp to stay level with them.

  'What's going on?'

  'That.'

  I followed Cass' pointing finger to the glowing shards of the celebration on the horizon. In the half-light, I'd not been absorbing any details, but now, rising high above the desert, one structure could clearly be seen.

  'What in living hell is that?'

  I suddenly remembered what Padre Reyes had said in my fever dream. The Fallen Cross, former symbol of Hole Town's piety and shared purpose, had been cut down, burned, reformed. Standing what seemed like its full two hundred feet height above the desert floor, it had been repurposed into the shape of a tall, thin man with a horrific rictus face, the top cut away and curved across to form a oval-shaped skull with lights burning in the eyesockets.

  'Why would they do that?' I breathed, more as a question to myself than the others.

  'I think it's watching us,' Cass said.

  'When the abyss looks at you,' I said, 'you should look right back.'

  'Ain't no abyss,' Mar said, accelerating once more as she did so. 'It's Hole Town's own personal demon, right there.'

  Chapter 32 – The Last Party on Earth

  We pulled up a few hundred yards short of the dust bowl they'd chosen to host the celebration. There was no point in hiding the trikes. They weren't going to be fast enough to get us to the mountains after we were done here. Unless Gregor came up with something, we were doomed either way. And so - hats pulled down low, neckerchiefs pulled up high - we went forward.

  As soon as we were close, we realised we may as well not have bothered with the stealth approach. There was no gate or entranceway, no charge for admission. Every slope in the dunes poured more people into the bowl. The celebration was huge, a triumph of the high-tech and the low-tech. It seemed that the whole of Hole Town had showed up and the crowds were big enough that we could just blend right in.

  They'd set up torches on poles every few feet, creating pathways through the sand that people had exploited by moving around to direct customers to their enterprises. A tall, thin silo with an open top had attracted a large crowd. When we got close, we could see why.

  Mayor Belasco was leading from the front, as any politician would be – helping a crew of locals drain water from the tower into earthenware cups.

  'Step right up, ladies and gentleman! Yes, you can believe your ears and eyes – we're giving away water, free, to everyone in Hole Town for the duration of the festival!'

  That was a big enough thing that it invited gasps from those stood around. And then, when they were done gasping, they stepped up and took full advantage.

  'Plenty of time, folks, no need to rush, no need to spill. I've been down to the reservoir and I've seen for myself that we have water enough down there to supply an army.' That prompted Mar to raise her eyebrows in my direction. 'And thanks to our new benefactor, we don't have such a pressing need for town funds, so even after the festival has ended, I'll be looking to reduce the cost of water in the long term. And on such a hot day...I mean, hot night, why wouldn't you look to drink all that you can?'

  It wasn't likely that Belasco would recognise any of us, but with skins from the Oasis, we didn't need to take the risk. We moved in the other direction, past the immense iron statue and the crane they'd used to convert it, following huge, heavy cables that ran down beneath the surface – perhaps leading all the way to the Silver Sea itself, who knew – superpowering thousands of coloured fairground lights, mine carts running round on an oval-shaped track and even a galloper, which lurched around like something dead come to life.

  Nate Di Vio had spared no expense for his city-sized distraction. On every corner, there were musicians playing instruments. People crowded into areas roped off as dancefloors. Kids were screaming and throwing firecrackers, a dozen different meats roasted on the spit. Beer flowed from kegs that seemed to magically appear in our stead. Gamblers were holding live games, cut cards in hand, fortune tellers were staring into crystals and reading entrails. The priests rubbed shoulders with the whores, who'd set up their own tent city within the wider city, touting for the easy business. A dozen bored-looking goons guarded the entrance to this scented palace, smoking cheroots or gnawing their way through corncobs and turkey legs. The air was scorching hot and everything was bathed in the sky's unnatural light. You could believe we were ready to catch fire.

  Cass watched it all with wide eyes. 'This is like something from another world.'

  'Last party on earth and we didn't even get an invite,' Mar said.

  In fact, the only thing that was missing as Mar, Cass and I sidled through the town, seemed to be security. That was fine with Hole Town's own, who were naturally inclined towards natural justice rather than word of law. We saw one gentleman try to sneak his way into the whore tent, and get shown out, none too gently. When he hollered, they smacked him around good. When he was finally done, they dumped him in the sand in full view of everyone. Passersby didn't so much as blink, stepping round him or on him as they chose.

  'Debauchery,' Mar said as we passed, in a voice that could have been approving and could have been not.

  'Big city life,' I replied, keeping my face turned to the ground.

  'Give me the desert every time,' Cass said. I could feel her twitchiness around the crowds.

  We toured around the main thoroughfares quickly, glancing through gaps or under tarpaulins, looking for anything suspicious or even signs of Di Vio's men, but they seemed about as rare as hen's teeth.

  'We don't have time to keep wandering,' Mar said after we'd circled the dancefloor in the centre twice. 'We're going to have to split up to find them.'

  'Maybe our friend was bluffing,' I said, 'Or maybe he got given bad intel. Perhaps the girls they took prisoner all went back to the mountains after all.'

  'I don't believe it,' Mar said. We split up the turf, and the pair of them slouched away. 'Keep your eyes open, your head down and stay out of the whore tent.'

  Not that it wasn't my scene, but I'd busted a whole lot of fellas over the years that looked like the ones now coralled out front in Pimptown Central, and the last thi
ng I needed right now was trouble like that. Besides, I had someone else to look in on.

  There were fourteen Catholic compounds stretching out from the dry southern roads to a safe middle distance in the Sands. They featured heavily in Hole Town life and they'd come together to construct an edifice for worship directly across from the statue. In the middle of the floor, a new cross in miniature – as big only as three men, but with all the severe right angles that made you think of a man's suffering after he'd been nailed to it. The Deacons – every bit as large and certainly no prettier than the men guarding the whores – stood before the crowds, quoting scripture and enacting scenes from the Holy Book. The Church could do theatre when it needed to.