“Whoa, look at that!” Pace said.
I looked up and saw him glance over at a girl leaning against the pool table, laughing with some friends and knocking down some homemade whisky. Pace didn’t need to point her out to me. I noticed her the minute she walked in the saloon. I always notice her.
Rebecca. I’ve always called her Becca, but I don’t think most people do. I always lose a little bit of my breath when I see her. And it’s not just her long legs in those tight handmade jeans. Or her halfway buttoned shirt – I think that’s what you call a blouse, right? – which casually showed off her big rack. Or her long brown hair that seemed to shine even if there isn’t any light. No, it was her eyes. Her brown eyes that could just look at you and make you feel like you were somebody, like you were worthy of her attention. She was no doubt the most beautiful girl in Great Falls. I guess that’s not saying all that much, given our population, but at the time I bet if I traveled throughout what used to be called Montana, throughout the Great Plains, to all the settlements, I’d never see a girl more beautiful. Looking back now, of course I can vouch for that.
“Guess she’s no longer with Boze,” Pace said, again not necessarily directed at me. But he made a good point, I thought Becca was still with that guy. Boze is a few years older, and the closest thing to a lawman we had in Great Falls. He was supposed to keep the peace, whatever that means. Seems like we had the same number of brawls with him or without him “keeping the peace.” Anyway, I was sure they were gonna get married. That would have been tragic.
Next thing I knew Pace slid his whole bottle of good whiskey my way. “Might as well drink it,” he told me. “I’m now otherwise engaged.”
Then he just got up and walked right over to Becca. I coulda easily thought he was giving me his whiskey to keep me preoccupied and out of his way, but I knew it wasn’t like that. No one knew how I felt about Becca. I sniffed the open bottle. Sure smelled good. I thought about drinking it to take my mind off of him talking to Becca. She wouldn’t be interested in him anyway. She’d see right through his charms. But I glanced over and it sure looked like I was wrong. Pace had forged a pathway through her cute girlfriends. Cute girls seem to like hanging out together. Unlike guys. It’s usually one decent-looking guy surrounded by a bunch of ugly guys. Man, that must be rough for girls to deal with, when the decent-looking one gets spoken for and they have to fight over meager scraps.
Becca didn’t seem too resistant to his advances. She was leaning against the pool table, sipping at her drink, tilting her head back a little to laugh at his jokes. I grabbed hold of Pace’s fancy bottle of whiskey and held it under my chin. Why shouldn’t she go with Pace? He’s rich. He’ll give her a better life than stupid Boze ever would. Or me for that matter. There was no need to be jealous. I had nothing better to offer. I would want her to be happy.
I took a quick look over my shoulder again. Pace’s hand was on her leg. He was movin’ fast. I took a good whiff of that expensive whiskey. It was getting more tempting by the second.
Then through the back of my head I could kinda sense movement. It was Becca, with Pace, and they were heading for the door. I turned my head just in time to see her eyes burning into mine. She seemed, I dunno, kinda sad as she let Pace loop his arm around hers. She kept staring at me – and I really couldn’t stand it – until she walked out through the saloon door. I looked down at Pace’s whiskey, picked it up and took a huge swig right out of the bottle. Boy that expensive stuff is good.
Fair enough. Pace got the girl, I got the good whiskey. That’s all I needed, all I wanted, right?
But why did it have to be Pace? I just knew his motivations weren’t pure. Boze, sure, he was an idiot, but at least I always kinda figured he had honorable intentions. He’d marry Becca, do his best to give her a life. But not Pace. He’d have his way tonight, maybe a few more nights, and then on to the next conquest.
I took another long swig of good whiskey. I knew what emotions were churning around inside. I needed some help to stay put, hoping it would cement my body down on the barstool. But I couldn’t help myself.
Next thing I knew I hoisted my body out the saloon doors. Pace was a few yards away, walking Becca toward his house. I hurled myself at him and gave him a good shove.
“Asher?” Becca cried out with surprise. Hearing her say my name is a little magical, I have to say. She’s the only one who calls me by my full name. Well, my mother did too. Everyone else just calls me Ash. Seems to suit me I suppose. Ash is what’s left after something burns down. That’s me.
Pace took a defensive posture might quick, I must say. He held his hands up like it was an old-fashioned stick-up, and he was backing away from me faster than I was approaching.
“Say Ash,” Pace said, trying to paste a smile over his fear, “what seems to be the trouble?”
“Yes Asher,” Becca interjected, moving her body in between me and Pace. “What exactly is the trouble?”
“Sorry Becca,” I responded, trying to calm myself down but I really wanted to beat the shit out of Pace. “Just don’t much like seeing you leave with Pace is all.”
With Becca in between us, Pace seemed to feel more confident again, maybe thinking she wouldn’t let me beat the shit out of him. “Do you prefer to be called ‘Becca’?” he asked her.
“You can call me Rebecca,” she replied pointedly. It felt good to know she was keeping one thing special just for me. Made sense, after all our history. That was history I cared about, actually. “Okay Rebecca,” he laughed. “We were just leaving. So Ash, if you’ll excuse us…”
“Nope,” I muttered.
“The lady can walk with whoever she likes,” Pace responded with confidence.
I reached past Becca and grabbed Pace by his fancy collar. “This is something I can’t abide,” I said. No idea where those words came from. Pace started flinching like I was gonna hit him. Maybe it was my balled up fist in my other hand.
“Now Ash,” he pleaded, “not the face, okay? It’s my best asset.”
All the better a target for smashing, I thought. But before I could take a swing at him, I felt Becca’s hands enveloping my fist. It’d been years since I’d felt her touch. Most of my rage fell away right then and there. I looked into her eyes. She looked stern. Kind of like how I remember my mother looking at me sometimes.
“Asher, I appreciate your trying to protect me,” she said with powerful calm, “but I do not need protecting. Do you understand me?”
“Sorry Becca,” I said. “I got no right.”
As I backed down, I saw Becca get increasingly pleased. “I didn’t know you still thought you might,” she said.
Pace didn’t seem to like her warming up to me a little, so he got his confidence back and stepped in front of Becca again and got in my face. “Ash, what say we call this a night and I’ll just walk Rebecca home.”
“What say I smash your face?” I responded.
Becca’s hands were over my fist again. Guess I should threaten physical violence more often.
“I know you’re strong,” Becca told me. “If strong was all that’s important you’d be running this settlement. You want to make an impression on me, you do it without violence.”
Her words sedated me. Both she and Pace just kinda stared at me for a minute, waiting to see if there was anything I could do without punching someone. I admit, I had nothin’. Didn’t have the words, didn’t have the actions. I just felt kinda embarrassed that I had done what I did.
“He impresses you?” I asked.
“He’s exciting,” she responded. “And in this town, what else is there?”
“I am exciting,” Pace added. Smug mother-effer.
But then it hit me.
“Okay,” I said. “You wanna be impressed? Don’t go home with Pace. Instead come with me.”
“What do you have in mind?” she asked.
“The Old City.”
Becca looked at me funny. Pace did too actually. The Old City was off l
imits, for everyone’s own safety really. That didn’t stop me from going over a few times to explore, but I have a bit of what you might call a suicidal complex. Every now and then when I don’t feel like I have much to live for, I’ll go. “You want excitement? That’s a story you can tell your grandkids about.”
“If we live to tell it,” she added with caution.
“Where do your parents think you are now?” I asked. “Asleep in your bed? You snuck out the window, right?” Becca nodded guiltily. “So they’re not gonna miss you. I’ll get you home before sunrise.”
I could see a light igniting in Becca’s soul. “I’ll go!” she blurted out.
“Wait a sec,” Pace intervened. “That’s no place for a girl.”
Becca gave him a nasty glare. He really didn’t know her that well. He was basically shoving her into my arms.
“Guess if it’s no place for a girl,” I said, “you won’t be coming with us.”
I was challenging Pace dead on, calling him on his bullshit. He looked back at me, his mouth kinda open, I expected spit to come drooling out.
“Fine,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Riding horses is second nature to me. Riding horses in the dark, near pitch dark, with nothing but a shaky candle-lit lantern in your hand, with a whole lotta whiskey in your belly – that’s hard. Still, the easy part of the journey was down what used to be called Route 87. What used to be a six-lane highway was now covered in moss, like most of the old roads. They didn’t get much use, save the infrequent use as a trade route between settlements. People from Augusta or Conrad would make the journey when they had an excess of cloth or medicine. They’d ride in by cart to trade when we have an abundance of fish or buffalo meat, depending on the season. Traders would usually misbehave a bit while they were in town – probably cause they weren’t accountable to their folks back home so no one was wiser. It always made for an interesting time. Harmless mostly unless they put an improper eye on one of our women. Then the residents of Great Falls would actually work together for a change and protect what’s ours. There was only one other time when they banded together like that – because of my father.
Anyway, Route 87 wasn’t built for horses, it was build for cars. Supposedly they can run fast. Ten times faster than a horse. That is if anyone can find a car in pretty good shape, and they know how to fix it up, and they have enough electricity to spare to charge the thing. We’ve got a few broken down cars in the settlement, but they’re really just scrap. So for my own eyes, it was all just legend, so I didn’t pay it much mind. Horse riding was all I needed.
We reached the old bridge that goes across the Missouri River. I’d been over it a few times before – really slowly. It hasn’t been meant for travel since, I dunno, World War I or whenever the Exodus was. Like I said, not much of a history student here. Anyway, there’s just no telling when the bridge might collapse.
We all stopped our horses and tried to peer across it. Hard to do when the light only goes ten feet. I hoped the bridge hadn’t collapsed already, halfway across and without warning. Would hate to fall down into the Missouri. No telling if that was a survivable fall.
Pace seemed kinda concerned. “We’re going to make it across, right?” he asked, trying to hide his fear behind a fake smile pasted across his face. I looked at Becca, and she peered back at me. She didn’t need to say anything – I knew she was nervous too, but she wanted desperately to trust me. I didn’t want to give her reassuring words though. Not my thing. Not sure I could believe ‘em if I said ‘em anyway. So instead I just tugged at my reins and led my horse forward across the bridge. I could barely hear their horses’ hoofbeats behind me – muffled in moss that goes halfway up your horse’s leg. And I hoped Pace was pissing his pants with fear.
I rode as slowly as I could, straining my eyes to make sure there was solid ground in front of me. Then I started thinking maybe I should be riding last, not first. My every step forward could be the one to finally turn the bridge into shit, collapsing behind me, and then Becca would bear the brunt of it. Pace too. If they were good swimmers they’d have half a chance.
Finally I could see the other end of the bridge in sight. Charon took those last few treacherous steps, and then I had him run a few yards away to get some distance. I turned around to make sure Becca and Pace made it across whole, which they did. The dim glow from the lantern barely made out a huge grin on Becca’s face. She was loving this.
We rode in silence for a while, marveling at the sight before us. Buildings, unimaginably tall. Skyscrapers, as they’re called, cause I guess when you get that high up you scrape the sky. I don’t really ever want to find out. Like the bridge we just crossed, those structures gotta be ready to crumble, and I don’t intend to be around when that happens. Rubble had fallen everywhere. Some of the buildings had been charred by fire – that can’t help their stability. Most of the ground-level windows were shattered, probably from looters back when the Exodus ended. Hard to believe people tried to live here back then, but they didn’t last long. They killed each other, or worse were taken out by rabid animals or wolves or disease. Cities are no place for a man anymore.
Hard to believe that nine million people once lived there, building up the air force base, and then waiting their turn to get off this planet. Not that I miss them, but I think they didn’t leave any excitement behind. They weren’t too smart either, the way I hear it. They put in all that effort, worked for a hundred years preparing to go off-planet. 20 billion people gone. And when they were gone, the hypernova that was supposed to blow us up never came. The gamma radiation or whatever it’s called from the exploding star was supposed to wipe out all life on Earth. But it didn’t happen. Not for the next hundred years. Or two hundred, whatever the math of it is from then to now. And for the million or so who stayed behind, they had a hard time dealing with what was left. Only settlements like ours had a chance. And eventually, people like us stopped looking up into the sky, wondering when it was gonna blow up. It just wasn’t gonna happen. And if it ever did, mind you, I’m okay with it. What can I do about it anyway.
We reached the part of the city where the streets were flooded. First couple times I got to the flood I used to turn back. Still water’s got alotta disease in it, and that’s not the way I wanna go out. But eventually I figured out a path to ride around the flood, which led to an area that was worth the risk. Buildings ceded their territory to a thick forest, seemingly sprung up out of nowhere. Nature has a way of reclaiming what’s hers, I guess.
There was an old rusted sign mounted alongside overgrown brush. I never could read the words. I could say it was because of the overgrowth of vines and weeds blocking the letters, but in actuality it was cause I can’t really read much. Never understood why I needed to really.
Becca read the sign aloud. “Riverside Park. Sounds nice enough.”
I rode up alongside Pace, close enough to whisper in his ear. “Keep an eye out for wolves.” I did that to eff with him, although there were plenty of wolf packs in the Old City. Never saw them up close though. Only times I did was when I was working out on the ranch. Those were the only times anyone ever put a shotgun in my hands, so I could protect the herd. They had good reason for keeping a shotgun out of my hands the rest of the time. Not sure how I’d get one on my own anyway. I’m not even wholly sure where the armory is. They keep it a secret, so guys like me don’t break into it I gather.
Anyway, I went in first to the forest, since I knew the way. I knew exactly the spot I wanted to show Becca. But this part was probably the most dangerous of all the Old City. Worth it though. She was probably spooked, I reckon. Pace too. He was bringing up the rear, and he had to know that wolves tend to like to follow their prey. He’d draw their first attack.
I admit, this part of the Old City was unsettling, but it was almost soothing when we started to hear the sounds of nature we were accustomed to. Birds, owls, crickets, that sort of thing. I could see thick spider webs pretty much everywhere, and ev
ery few moments I thought I saw the scurry of rats near our horses’ hooves. This was the kind of life that owned the Old City now. That and the wolves – or worse.
Pretty quickly I could hear the familiar sound of rushing water, getting louder and louder. I led us to a clearing, and was happy to get us through that forest without incident. In front of us was a little patch of land that sloped slightly downward, right alongside the bank of the Missouri River. We dismounted, gave the horses some water, and gave ourselves some whiskey from a flask I kept in my saddlebag. We tamped down some weeds and sat among them, staring out at the flowing water.
“Nice spot, right?” I asked.
Becca nodded. I couldn’t tell if she was still excited or now just plain scared. She’s a smart girl. She knows about wolf packs.
“Puts a new perspective on our tiny little existence, doesn’t it?” Pace said. “There’s more than just the Great Falls settlement, that’s for sure.”
“But none of it’s as safe,” Becca reasoned. And she was right about that.
“I’m up to my ass in safe,” Pace replied. In that moment I couldn’t tell if he was boasting or being truthful, but as I later learned it was a little of both.
“Haven’t seen you at movie night in a few months.” I thought Becca was talking to Pace, but I glanced up and saw she was looking at me.
“What’s the point?” I said.
“I never miss movie night,” Pace said cheerfully.
“I know,” Becca replied. “I see you there. With a different girl every time.”
That made me laugh. Becca knew what Pace was all about. I didn’t need to worry about the two of them. Or so I thought.
Pace thought it was funny too. “I like the movies, what can I say.”
When we were younger, movie night was pretty much the most exciting thing in our lives. It seemed like everyone in Great Falls would get together in Town Hall on that special night when they’d load up the equipment and show us a relic from our past. They’d probably show it more often, but the equipment is old and no one knows how to fix it. Plus using it takes up precious electricity, of which we have little. Those wind generators only crank out so much. Pace’s family could afford to keep a few working lights in their house, but for the rest of us, daylight and candlelight were enough to get by out of necessity. Anyway, when I was young I never missed movie night. For about three years straight I always went with Becca. We sat next to each other in the dark. We were both prepubescent by the way, just so you don’t get any ideas. I remember watching some movie about some girl who gets swept up in a tornado and lands in some magical place. Or there was one about this lady, she was a teacher I think of a bunch of children, and their dad was an effing jerk, and they sang and ran away from the Swiss or the Nazis or something like that. Boy, we’d talk about those movies for the whole month until the next time. So I stopped going when it was time to grow up. Eventually you realize that life is about survival – and that’s pretty much it – so there isn’t much time for fantasy.
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