Clone Two

by Patti Larsen

  “N-n-not as smart as you.” Ande pokes Socrates with his spoon before sighing and staring down into his bowl. “But yeah, I understand a b-b-bit of Crawler tech. Was t-t-trying to use some of it when Chime f-f-found me. In fact,” he perks up, eyes meeting his brain twin, pale skin and dark coming together as Ande grabs Socrates's hand, “I'm working on a little s-s-something. Maybe you c-c-can help?”

  The other boy bobs his head. “Weapon?”

  “Maybe.” Ande goes back to his meal with renewed enthusiasm. “Maybe n-n-not.” He licks his bowl clean before returning it to the table and leaving us for a moment before coming back with a long, thin something wrapped in the remnants of a blanket. As he peels the covering free, Socrates lets out a low hiss.

  “The Crawlers use s-s-something like it,” Ande says of the cobbled together metal tube which looks like a rudimentary rifle, “but theirs are s-s-smaller, hand held. I've only been able to g-g-get it to work in a bigger model. N-n-need more juice for a sustained charge.” He peels back a layer of what looks like duct tape and shows us a large battery cell.

  “Taser,” I say.

  Ande nods immediately. “That's what the Crawlers c-c-call them.” He looks at me funny. “How'd you know that, T-t-trio?”

  I struggle with my answer, wanting to be honest. Finally I just shrug. “I don't know,” I say. “I wish I did, I might be more help.”

  “Well,” Ande says, handing the gun to Socrates for examination, “I'd app-p-preciate anything you can tell me.” Again the grin. He's a smiling fiend who can't help but raise my mood with his cheer. “Like that s-s-solar power suggestion.”

  Socrates looks up sharply from the weapon. “Yes, solar,” he says. “But there are so many things to consider.”

  “St-t-torage,” Ande nods.

  “Here we go.” Chime appears at Ande's side, crouching to gently punch his shoulder. She's smiling at him at least. “Pet projects later, little man.” When she turns to us, her good humor has already left her. “We're traveling during the day and only during the day. We have no idea what the tracks are like further down the line and it's too dangerous to just run the train out into the dark.”

  Ande is nodding though he looks unhappy suddenly and I wonder if this nighttime pause was only supposed to be until the barrier came down. But even I agree with Chime's caution, at least to a point. The train is huge and fast, but my mind tells me derailing could happen much easier than it should and will lead to disaster for all of us.

  Ande takes a quick drink of water from his battered cup. “Scouts?”

  Chime seems annoyed as she answers, as though the facts offend her. “The tracks on the other side are intact.”

  Ande lets out a whoop of happiness, grabbing her around the neck and kissing her cheek as another small smile escapes her. Seems I'm not the only one affected by his energy. It also tells me she's not the complete monster she portrays. Maybe she does care about Ande enough she'll put his safety ahead of her own agenda.

  Maybe.

  “One last thing.” Chime fixes Beckett with a stare meant to intimidate, but he just stares back. “My train, my rules. I'm in charge. Don't even think about a mutiny or I'll pitch you over the side so fast you'll wish the Crawlers caught you after all.”

  Beckett nods his head once, looking more regal than complacent.

  I'm pretty sure Chime notices it too because she's swearing softly under her breath when she stalks away.

  ***

  Chapter Eight

  When the sun begins to warm the eastern horizon, I'm there to meet it. The others stir, Chime shouting something from further ahead where I sit, as I had before, in the open door of the second last car. Sleep eludes me still, though I don't feel worse for my lack of it. Expectant, yes. A thrill of excitement probably left over from my exposure to Ande still pumps through my blood and warms my heart.

  But most importantly, there's hope.

  This just might work.

  I rise and stretch, the dog yawning beside me, haunches in the air as he does his own morning extensions. Sunlight backs the barrier, rising on the other side, still bathing the train and everything on this side of the barricade in shadow. Four kids hop down as hissing sounds rise from the locomotive, steam mixed with thick black smoke billowing in coughing clouds from the stack. I lean against the gaping doorframe and watch as the selected group of Chime's crew attack the barrier with crowbars.

  As I thought, it's a wall in name only. Thin sheets of metal screech their protest as the kids pull rivets and old welds loose, dropping the chunks from the wall, to float almost serenely before crashing into the ground in front of the train.

  It takes a surprisingly short time to clear away the barrier, the sheets of metal hurried down the length of the tracks toward my car. I jump free as the piles of loose tin are shoved with some force through the open door then follow the crew ahead with the dog at my side. Big wheels protest as the train lurches forward, the chug-chug-chug of the engine filling the morning air with the sound of progress. I wait for the others to climb aboard the slowly moving train, boosting the dog up the stairs before leaping onto the steps myself, clutching the rail of the open coal car as the engine picks up speed, carrying us past the station and into the world outside.

  One of the kids next to me glances at the dog with such longing I smile at him. He's only a little thing, maybe Poppy's age. And while I see he's struggling not to like me, when the golden lab swipes his tongue over the boy's cheek he can't help but giggle.

  I make my way forward, faithful companion at my side, entering the engine car to find Ande almost bouncing on his stool in pure happiness.

  “Trio!” He waves with great enthusiasm. “Say goodbye to the old and hello to the n-n-new.” He frowns a little then, looking outside the window. “Was k-k-kind of hoping it would look d-d-different.”

  He makes me laugh, an unexpected bout of humor taking me so hard I have to bend in half, clutching my aching ribs. When I gasp myself back under control, I punch his shoulder gently, as he'd done to me before.

  “Have a little faith,” I say. “There are more wonders out there than you can possibly imagine.” Tears threaten me suddenly, but I don't know why. Just like I have no idea how I know.

  I just do.

  Ande doesn't seem to notice, his good humor back with a vengeance. “G-g-good to know.”

  I look back out the open window as we pass the place the barrier stood. Ande sees me and grins.

  “Should p-p-piss them off right good,” he said with high cheer. “The Crawlers, I m-m-mean. They built that w-w-wall, ages ago. To c-c-control us, I'm thinking.”

  “They'll know we passed it,” I say. “Wouldn't putting it back make more sense?”

  “Naw,” he says. “It'll be p-p-pretty clear just from the cleaned out s-s-supplies where we went. B-b-besides, the metal might come in useful.” He winks at me. “Already has.”

  “What do you mean?” I settle with my shoulder against the wall, one hand in the dog's fur, just enjoying Ande and the morning breeze carrying a hint of the day's coming heat as Ande conducts his locomotive orchestra.

  “While the rest of you were s-s-sleeping,” he snorts like doing so is a waste of time, “I was b-b-busy.”

  I don't bother to tell him I was awake too. “Doing what, may I ask?” I'd heard odd sounds through the night, hammering of metal, the high-pitched complaint of steel being forced into shape but assumed it was regular maintenance.

  “The tracks,” he says, “are covered in g-g-grass, roots, stuff like that. So I made some b-b-blades from some of the scraps of m-m-metal and turned us into a deadly weapon.” He winks. “To weeds, that is.”

  Clever, clever boy. The idea of us cutting through to the rails brings to mind a ship slicing white caps out of waves and for some reason makes me feel stirred up, as adventurous as he is. “Are you sure you've thought of everything?” I know it's not fair to tease him, but I'm in a fantastic mood and can't help it.

  Ande shr
ugs and goes back to his engine, talking louder over the growing noise.

  “We'll f-f-find out soon enough,” he says.

  I'm not sure what I was expecting, but once the train is rolling I feel a little anti-climactic. Nothing untoward happens, no explosions, Crawlers bursting from everywhere to stop us. Just the morning sun, the rising wind and the chugging of the steam engine as we slice our way over the rails.

  I leave Ande to his muttering and humming and general coexistence with his locomotive and make my way back past the coal car. The two kids with shovels are hard at work, though I have no idea if it's the same two from the night before. I can only assume I'll be asked to take a turn eventually, not looking forward to the job though not because of the labor, but the thin film of black dust coating the pair of them. The idea of being that dirty makes me cringe, though I know I'm well past due a bath myself.

  Heat reaches me from the gaping hole before them, orange flames flaring as they heave loads of coal into the hungry maw of the steam engine. My eyes drift over the pile behind them, the full car, and my mind tries to calculate how much we have available, but I'm unable to even make a guess and, with a sigh, keep going.

  I'm becoming accustomed to the frightening gaps between cars, barely noticing as I hop across from one to the next. The door before me slides easily, the dog bounding ahead through to the car beyond.

  How odd to find the crew lounging around. My mind is surprised though I realize there must be little to do with the train rolling. Aside from the two shoveling coal, and perhaps some re-assortment of the boxes and cases and barrels now on board, the trip is likely to be uneventful.

  Or I can hope, at least. I'll take uneventful, for once.

  Poppy sits in the midst of a small group of Chime's people, giggling. She's not the only one. As I draw closer, I catch sight of the source of their amusement. The puppies growl and mock play in the middle of the crowd, the kids laughing and enjoying their innocence. Not for the first time I find myself so grateful the dog led me to them, gave me the chance to save their precious lives.

  Chime hovers, watchful, scowling. But even she can't keep a harsh face when Poppy stands, sweet Shine in her hands and drops him in her arms. Chime's face is immediately washed with vigor as Shine wiggles and mutters his happiness at the opportunity to make a new friend. She laughs out loud, an odd sound from her, lighting her face and bringing back that same spark of humanity I saw earlier. I'm sad then, wondering if circumstances were different, if she hadn't sold everything she had for her final scrap of safety, if Chime and I would have been friends.

  She finally sputters, pulling Shine close to hug his soft golden body gently to her cheek, a sweet smile on her face, before handing him back to Poppy with what looks like regret in her eyes.

  Perhaps things will work out after all.

  I find myself drifting around them, my train-mates, crew and friends alike, escaping from their chatter, their constant flow of energy, heading for the rear door and the car beyond. I don't stop, even when I hear Beckett's voice, followed by Vander’s, moving silently to the rear again, the groaning of metal and the rush of the wheels covering the sound of my retreat.

  I sit, back in place near the open doorway, the rattle of metal sheets behind me, dog at my hip as I watch the miles flow by in endless wilderness. We pass occasional stations, but I'm not surprised we don't stop. None have survived, it seems, mere husks, glass shattered, empty to the wind and elements. Even the occasional town rises in the distance only to flicker past us, the remnants of a world long gone, lives long ended. I begin to wonder if Chime is right, if we'll find what we need for our journey out here but it's too late to worry about such things.

  Ande's blades do their job very well, weeds whipping by from the freshly cleared tracks, a few low bushes hitting my boots where they dangle over the edge of the car. We don't seem to be moving as fast as we had the day before, but we're still covering ground at a good clip.

  Near mid-day, I'm delighted to spot a herd of horses racing toward us through the desert. They catch us, pounding along beside, their fearlessness amazing to me. More than fearless, curious. They are many and varied, patchwork coats burnished reds and deep blacks and polished white as they gallop with long manes and tails tossing, the sound of their whinnies and cries a musical counterpoint to the thudding of their hooves.

  Why they've come I have no idea, perhaps they simply saw something unusual and wanted to investigate. For whatever reason, it's not long before they fall behind, the lead stallion shaking his head at me. I wave at him, as though he can understand.

  I really think he can.

  It seems the dog and I, he with tongue out and tail wagging with great enthusiasm, are the only ones who witnessed our temporary escort and it makes me sad. Poppy would have loved the sight, I'm sure. Still, it's a moment I treasure, a magical memory making everything else seem more bearable.

  Much is gone here, destroyed, lives lost. But nature finds a way to survive. And thrive, from the look of the herd. And if what I suspect of the dog is true of those horses, a logical assumption considering their uncharacteristic curiosity, maybe mankind's time has come and I'm rushing toward its end.

  I don't want to think about that.

  ***

  Chapter Nine

  It's not until the sun is going down I return to the others as the train slows then hisses to a stop. I hop down from the train to the hard-packed dirt at the side of the tracks to find my friends mixed with the crew, hunched over dinner. They welcome me silently as I take my own bowl and join them, Vander lighting a pile of kindling with a shining silver lighter. We seem to be more welcome here with the crew now, and I smile at Poppy for her brilliant idea of sharing the puppies with the others. I stroke Shade's soft black coat once as she wriggles into the curve under my raised knee, her brother burrowing close beside her.

  “We're not traveling as fast,” I say as I spoon up my first mouthful. “I know your train can move faster than this.” I wink at Ande to take the sting out of my words. I hope he knows I'm not criticizing and from his wink back he does.

  “Oh, this girl can f-f-fly.” He laughs before shrugging his thin shoulders. “But slower makes it easier to s-s-stop if we have to.” Ande speaks over his bowl of stew, parked in a patch of grass while the flames from Vander's fire smoke and crackle to live. “B-b-been watching for those stations, but n-n-nothing we can use.” He says it like it's no big deal even though Chime seems suddenly glum. “When we spot a good one, we'll b-b-be able to bring this big girl to a halt in t-t-time. Besides, no idea what's under the weeds, r-r-really. At this speed spotters c-c-can keep an eye out.”

  The train dark and near silent on the track in the middle of a stretch of nowhere, small exhalations of left over steam escaping her from time to time, the tick of heated metal low and soft. Vander's fire grows with everything he places on it, mostly dried scrub gathered from nearby. The day was warm, though bearable considering I spent it in the open wind. But the desert chill is hard to combat and the fire's warmth is welcome.

  I watch the flames, welcoming their hypnotic dance, finding it soothing as we sit together and listen to the sounds of the deepening night.

  Dinner eaten, blankets laid out on the ground and the moon well rising, the crew sighs themselves into slumber. I curl up on my side after the last of the coals die out, facing away from the train and out into the desert. Sleep calls me at last, the night's worth I missed finally demanding I fill the gap left behind in my rest.

  But the dog is alert and his jerking sleep and sudden twitches of attention keep me awake, despite my need for slumber. He's not the only one. Most of the kids seem nervous, agitated and I realize at last none of them have been in the wilderness before. Of course they haven't, these refugees from a dying city are used to four walls, giant buildings, and despite its echoing emptiness to me, there are still sounds in Los Angeles, an underlying pulse of energy as the inhabitants go about their business.

  The desert is
a stranger to them and, while quiet, has its own internal rhythm. Buzzing of insects, scurrying of lizards, the distant whinny of a horse or howl of a hunting wolf sound nothing like the familiar noises they've fallen asleep to their entire lives.

  I recall learning about camping, tents, the great outdoors. Eating marshmallows over an open Bunsen burner, giggling with others, but who? It doesn’t matter now.

  Even the dog is unfamiliar with his surroundings, but despite his intelligence he's still anxious no matter what words of comfort I murmur or how much I try to make him understand we're safe out here.

  But should I assume that? If the coyotes or wolves are as brilliant as he is, will they attack? I find myself chuckling at the thought. As far as I'm concerned, the wildlife out here was smarter than man to begin with. They'll keep their distance and mind their business, I have no doubt.

  Snakes on the other hand... scorpions. Poisonous spiders. They live in the desert, don't they? I'm in as bad of shape as the rest of the crew by now, mind churning over real threats while I'm sure they imagine the boogeyman or whoever it is they fear. Sleep comes in bits and snatches for everyone.

  When morning dawns and we're all intact, if grumpy from sleep deprivation, even Chime seems less sour about the whole thing. Better, one of the scouts finds a nice stream. Ande, his bubbling enthusiasm undiminished, hooks up a manual pump to the same hose he used before.

  “Might as well t-t-top up while we have the chance,” he says.

  Chime agrees, a handful of her people taking a turn at the pump. I'm not surprised when Beckett steps in and does his part, happy to see Chime isn't quite as angry when she watches him as she has been in the past.

  “T-t-turns out the world isn't out to g-g-get us after all,” Ande says.

  Chime grumbles a swearword, but even she's smiling.