“My name is Alice. What is yours?” The woman asked her. The dim light of a nearby candle basked the woman in an orange glow. The helpful healer’s messy brown hair was pulled back into a low bun, with loose pieces framing her petite face.
“I…I can’t remember,” she croaked out. The room was spinning.
“That’s okay. Just rest. I have someone collecting some aloe. It will help with the burns. Here.” Alice slowly put her hand under her head to prop her up. “You need to drink some water. Slowly. If you drink too fast you will get sick.”
As she slurped the water, she felt it hydrate her throat. It worked its way down her esophagus, cooling her insides. She was sure she would have died in that desert. Is that why she was there? Did someone send her there to die? She wished that she could remember. Maybe after some rest it would come back to her. Or maybe she wasn’t meant to remember.
But then something bubbled up into the back of her mind, alien yet somehow familiar. “Zee,” she whispered, taking a break from sipping the water.
“Pardon me?” Alice asked, leaning closer to the young woman before her.
“They called me Zee.”
Before Alice could inquire about her strange name, the creaking of a door sounded on the other side of the room. Zee jumped at the sound. She tried to turn to the noise, but it hurt too much to move. Every inch of her body burned and ached. Even her insides hurt. Her head throbbed violently, threatening to break her grip on consciousness. She closed her eyes. Her eyelids burned, making her eyes water. Zee couldn’t tell if the room was out of focus because of her pounding head or her teary eyes.
“It’s okay.” Alice made to put her hand on Zee’s shoulder, but thought better of it. “It’s just Dylan,” she said, though this statement did nothing to reassure Zee that she was safe.
“How is she?” A man’s voice whispered softly from somewhere near Zee’s head. His voice was soft, and it instantly calmed Zee’s anxiety. She wanted to rotate towards him to see what he looked like, but she knew that her body would sting in protest.
“She’s finally awake.” Alice dipped the cloth back into the bowl of water before wiping it across Zee’s forehead, brushing her short brown hair off of her face. “Could you find any aloe?”
“Yeah. But I had to barter for it.” The floor creaked as Dylan shifted his weight.
“How much?” Alice sounded worried. Zee hoped they weren’t stretching themselves thin over her, especially since she couldn’t even remember who she was. What if she ended up being a bad person and not worth all the fuss?
“Nothing that we will be missing.”
“Dylan…”
“They wanted a sack of grain for it. We have plenty to spare.”
Zee tried to prop herself up on her arm. A groan escaped her lips.
“Try not to move too much, honey. You’re burned pretty badly. Dylan was able to get you some aloe. It should help,” Alice said as she ripped off the tubular arms of the plant. She gently squeezed it onto Zee’s hot skin.
“Who did this to you?” The man named Dylan asked. He had a tone about his question that made it sound like a great injustice had been done against Zee somehow.
“I don’t remember anything,” Zee admitted softly. “I’m not even too sure of my name.” She felt like an idiot. Who didn’t even know their own name? “I think they called me Zee, but I don’t think that’s my real name.”
“I’ll ask around and see if anyone has heard any strange rumors. The steam wagon is due to come in within the hour. When I help unload I’ll ask the cargo manager if he’s heard of any missing people.”
Alice furrowed her brow, chewing on her nail. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. What if someone bad is looking for her? I mean, she somehow ended up in the desert. She must have been wandering for days. There’s nothing out there for thousands of miles. Either she was trying to get away from someone, or someone dropped her off to die.”
“I’ll be careful when I ask. Besides, I don’t talk to anyone besides those I trust,” Dylan reassured them.
The gooey aloe was sticky on Zee’s skin. It felt like Alice was wiping cool snot on her. Zee wrinkled up her nose in disgust. “Does it hurt?” Alice asked.
“No,” Zee admitted with a cringe, “it just feels funny.”
Dylan chuckled. “It will feel much better tomorrow once the aloe does its job.” His feet scuffled softly on the wooden floor as he walked back to the door and left the two women alone.
Zee turned her head towards his voice, straining her eyes to see. They burned every time she blinked, sending tears streaking down her cheek. She was surprised the tears didn’t boil the second they touched her flaming skin. She could picture them steaming into the air the second they touched her cheek.
Steam. She envisioned great puffs of white steam coming out of the black smokestack of a steam engine as it snaked down its rusty tracks across the vast nothingness of desert. Something felt familiar about this daydream, but Zee couldn’t quite grasp what. The second she tried to catch its meaning in her mind, it would slip away like the sand through her fingers in the desert.
“Did you remember something?” Alice asked hopefully.
“Steam…” Zee tried to hold on to the image, but it faded into the oblivion that it popped out of. She bit at the flaky, dry skin on her parched lips.
“Maybe you worked on one of the steam wagons,” Alice mused as she squeezed out more aloe onto Zee’s legs.
“Steam wagons?” Zee asked, not remembering the importance of the machinery.
“Yeah. After the war, the steam wagons were our only lifelines out here in the desert.”
Zee searched her limited memory but couldn’t remember a war. Not only could she not remember her own history, she couldn’t remember a common past either. What happened to me? Frustration burned inside of her, more painful than her sunburnt skin or her pounding head.
“You can’t remember that either?” Alice asked, her voice soft with compassion. Zee shook her head. “Two-hundred forty-seven years ago, World War III broke out. No one is really sure of the details, but someone let off a bunch of nuclear weapons, basically wasting most of the planet. People survived if they lived far enough away from major cities and began forming tribes. Those more fortunate rediscovered how to create and run steam engines. With that technology, they were able to rule over the less fortunate who lived in the desert areas. It might not be like this everywhere, but my family and I never had the courage to walk through the desert to the next town.”
“Your family?” Zee asked. “Is Dylan your husband?”
Alice laughed. The corners of Zee’s mouth turned up painfully, but it felt good to smile.
“Dylan is my brother. He lives in town at the inn he runs,” Alice explained.
“How do the steam wagon owners rule over you?” Zee asked as Alice gently rubbed aloe down her other leg.
“They’re not too bad if you follow the rules. But they expect us to load and unload the steam wagons in exchange for the supplies we need to survive out here. We rely so much on the steam wagons to bring in what we need, so we’re kind of stuck relying on them to come in. Our parents told us that a group of people tried to rebel in Brimstone when they were children. They said the steam wagons didn’t stop here for almost four months. They just flew straight through to the next town without even slowing down. Many starved or died of thirst.” Alice squeezed out the last bit of aloe on Zee’s foot. Zee relished in the sticky relief as Alice lightly massaged it into her aching skin, quenching the fire started from the desert sun. “Our parents were very lucky to live through that. My father’s younger sister died.” She paused for a moment before adding, “No one has ever revolted again.”
Zee mulled over this information, waiting to see if anything would pop back out of her subconscious. But nothing familiar was stirred out of the depths of her mind from Alice’s story. After she digested the brief history, she asked, “What about the other desert cities?”
“Why?” Zee couldn’t understand what was so wrong with being curious. How could any question be so dangerous?
“It’s just forbidden. So are music and books, although I don’t think anyone knows how to read anymore anyways.” Alice glanced nervously around the room, as if she was fearful to be overheard. She flattened out her long shirts as she got up out of the wooden chair next to Zee’s bed. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll find you something to wear.”
Alice silently left the room, leaving Zee to her racing thoughts.
2
With Alice’s help, Zee slowly pulled the cotton dress over her head. Like Dylan had said, she felt much better the next day. Her skin was still pink and there was some scabbing from the broken blisters, but the aloe pulled much of the sting and the heat out of it and she seemed to be healing nicely. Also, from slowly drinking the water as much as she could, her headache had finally disappeared. Like all of my memories, she thought as Alice took a step back to see how well the dress fit Zee.
“That doesn’t look too bad, though it’s more of a night-dress for sleeping, but I wanted something that wouldn’t rub on your legs too much.” Alice picked up the burlap sack that was wadded on the floor at Zee’s feet. Who would ever wear such a thing? Zee wondered if it was by choice or force that she was found wearing that as an outfit.
Today, Alice was in a long, flowing skirt that skimmed the top of her sandals. Alice rubbed her tan arms, looking deep in thought at Zee. Gently, Alice finger-combed through Zee’s messy hair. “I’ve never seen a woman with short hair before,” Alice admitted as she attempted to tame Zee’s short and wild hair. “Not that that’s a bad look,” she quickly added after Zee wrinkled up her nose at the observation. “Just until we know how you ended up in the desert, I would rather not have you stand out. I will find you a bandana to wear until your hair grows longer.”
Alice walked across the room to the small dresser against the wall, and began rummaging through a drawer. “Here.” She crossed back to Zee with a small red cloth in her hand. “We should probably come up with a back story in case anyone asks questions,” Alice said, more to herself. She chewed on her nail and scrunched up her eyes as she thought, while Zee tied the bandana over her short hair.
“I can remember the steam from a steam wagon. Maybe I used to work on one,” Zee offered up.
“Hmmm,” Alice bit her lip, adjusting the bandana. “Usually the only women on the steam wagons are prostitutes, but there’s nothing wrong with that. I just want to make you aware.”
Zee thought for a moment. A man’s body didn’t seem familiar to her. She doubted she ever had to pleasure one for goods. “I don’t think that’s what I did. Women don’t unload the steam wagons?”
“No. We generally run the shops, or take care of the homes.”
“I feel like I am strong though.” Zee flexed the muscles of her bare arms with a smile.
Alice laughed, throwing her head back. “I didn’t say a woman couldn’t be strong. We’re just not allowed to help unload the steam wagons.”
“I don’t think I like that,” Zee admitted, staring down at her bare, pink feet.
Alice leaned in to whisper, “You can say stuff like that to me or Dylan, but keep opinions like that to yourself outside of our cabin.” Alice look frightened. Zee just nodded. She didn’t want to bring trouble to her rescuers.
“Maybe you should come up with my story. It seems I don’t even recall how to act…normal.” Zee felt so out of place. How could she not know anything? It was as if something sucked all of her memories and knowledge out of her mind, and all she was left with were inappropriate opinions. “Maybe that’s how I ended up in the desert,” she offered up.
Alice smiled reassuringly at her. “I’m sure one day we will uncover your past. But for now…you’re a family friend from Sand Haven, the next town over. Your family couldn’t afford you anymore and there weren’t any suitors that you liked…so you came here.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Zee admitted with a shrug.
Alice looked down at Zee’s bare feet and sighed. “You’re feet look small. I don’t know if I will have sandals that fit you.”
Zee looked down at her pink feet. The tops were sore from the sun, but the bottoms felt to be made of leather. “I think I always walk around barefoot.”
“I don’t know,” Alice said, wrinkling up her brow. “The sand gets pretty hot.”
After thinking for a moment, Zee said, “We can see how it goes. If I have to come back inside until you can find me sandals, I don’t mind getting some more rest.”
“You shouldn’t stay out in the sun too long today anyways,” Alice said. “You don’t want to dehydrate again.”
Zee nodded in agreement, happy to finally be free of the terrible headaches she had before being rescued. She hoped that she would never be dehydrated again. Or sun-burnt.
Alice shepherded Zee down the stairs from the upper bedroom. The flat wood panels creaked with each step. Zee took in the smell of dry wood around her from the cabin. The room at the bottom of the stairs opened up into a kitchen and sitting area. A stone hearth opened up at the end of the room, with a cauldron floating over the iron grates that held the firewood up off the stone floor. Zee could imagine Alice spending her nights down here, sitting in one of the wooden chairs, enjoying the heat of the small fire once the heat of the day leaked out from the absence of the sun. A wooden loom crouched in the far corner like a giant spider web. A pile of white cloth was neatly folded next to the loom. Zee wondered if Alice was making the cloth for herself or if she had a quota to fill. She supposed that she would find out soon enough.
The front door creaked open at Alice’s push, letting the bright morning sun inside the cabin. Dust motes swirled in a dance in front of them. Zee smiled at their sparkling beauty. The women stepped off of the small porch and into the dust of the desert. Alice pointed to the west.
“The town is just a half mile walk. We were fortunate to have a home just outside of the town. There’s more privacy that way.” Alice pushed her long brown braid over her shoulder, and they walked towards the town she had pointed out. It rose up out of the desert—an ugly scar on the horizon.
The sand was smooth on Zee’s feet and warm, but not yet hot. It spilled through her toes with each step. Memories of her plight through the desert swam in her mind, and a slight anxiety took over. Breathing deep, Zee pushed the memory aside. She was safe now.
The warm sun wrapped the women like a hot blanket. It wasn’t yet close to mid-day, but the temperature was steadily rising. It was easily already in the upper eighties. Sweat beaded on Zee’s forehead. She wished she didn’t have to wear the bandana, but she couldn’t afford unwanted attention, especially since she didn’t know if she was running from anyone. She just hoped that her memory would be jogged soon.
People littered the streets before them, moving in different directions like lines of ants busy with their work. Zee stared at them with wide eyes, afraid to be swept up in one of the lines. Alice took her gently by the arm and led her down a side-street and into a tall building. Zee’s eyes were still adjusting to the dark when she heard a familiar voice.
“You look much better today.” Dylan was behind a bar, washing wooden cups. He brushed his shaggy brown hair off of his forehead as he studied the two women.
“I’m still pink,” Zee said with a small curtsy, pulling out the hem of her skirt in a flourish. She looked around at the small empty tables. “Is this your bar?”
“Yes.” Dylan smiled brightly at Zee. His good mood was intoxicating and Zee found her spirits soaring.
“Hey!” Alice butt in with a laugh.
“Well…Alice owns it, too. We sell drinks and goods. And rent rooms upstairs to travelers.”
Zee looked around nervously. She didn’t like the idea of strangers being upst
airs. What if there was someone looking for her? Who would be looking for me? Zee mused. She was probably presumed to be dead. In fact, she almost did die. If Alice and Dylan didn’t find her when they did, Zee would not have made it out of the desert. Zee stared Death in the face, but was able to walk away. She wondered if there was a good reason for that, or if she was just fortunate.
A high shelf running around the room caught Zee’s eye. It was littered with what looked like artifacts: glass jars, plastic containers, bunches of colorful wires bound together, small metal boxes.
“What is all this?” She asked, pointing to the clutter.
“Dylan’s a bit of a collector,” Alice explained with a weary smile. “I think our dad rubbed off on him too much. Dad liked finding stuff from the old world.”
“The old world?” Zee looked up at the trinkets with amazement. She was amazed at the volume of his collection. It must have taken years to find all of it.
“Yeah,” Dylan put down the cup he was washing on top of a growing pyramid of drink-ware. “Before the bombs went off. Some of it survived.” Alice gave her brother a cautionary glance. Zee wondered if such a collection bordered on the edge of being forbidden. “What brings you two here?” Dylan scanned Zee with his piercing blue eyes. Her heart fluttered in her chest. She glanced back to the shelf to avoid his gaze.
“I figured you could show Zee how to run the bar so you don’t have to close down when you leave to unload the steam wagon today. Besides, I only have one loom and you know Pierce will skin us if that cloth isn’t to his standards.” Alice held Dylan’s gaze with a fierce stare. Zee didn’t want to ask if Alice was exaggerating about being skinned or not. She had the unfortunate feeling that it was the truth.
How could people live in such constant fear? Zee’s breath caught in her throat. Something felt familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
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