Land of the Dead (Rise of the Empaths Book 2)

by A. S. Hames

  “Looks like it,” I say.

  “Poor horse,” Zu says.

  While I check the bag that’s still aboard, Von ambles over to take a sniff at the carcass. Then he casually sinks his teeth into its neck and rips off a chunk of flesh. My immediate reaction is disgust. A horse is a noble creature. But it only lasts a second or two before I realize we’ll soon be joining him.

  Ax finds something too. A half-gallon bottle full of a clear yellowish liquid. He sniffs it.

  “Cider.”

  The bag doesn’t contain anything useful beyond twenty or so bullets, which I divide up between our guns that match the caliber. Then we break up parts of the wagon to make a fire, which I light with dry grass and my magnifying glass. I don’t enjoy cutting the horse with a little knife, but that’s the way it has to be.

  Once the cooking is done, we sit in the shade of the remainder of the wagon eating a hot meat breakfast. It tastes good, and I reckon Von’s going for the twenty pounds a wolf can put away. Ax, meanwhile, is enjoying the cider a little too much. It doesn’t help that we all decline when he offers it around. That’s more for him.

  “That’s strange,” Ben says.

  He’s using the spyglass for a little look around.

  I take a turn and, following his directions, I see something a few hundred yards southwest of our position. The sun is reflecting off a shiny surface.

  “I can’t make it out.”

  Zu takes a turn.

  “It could be a car,” she says. That gets her excited.

  “There’s no way it’ll be a working car,” Ax says. “Not out here. No ma’am… not a damned chance.”

  I realize he’s drunk.

  “We ought to make sure,” I tell him. “Come on, Von.”

  About halfway there, I use the spyglass again. Only, I can’t see the car or whatever the hell it is. I put this down to the angle of the sun. It’s no longer reflecting off the object. Even so, as we get nearer, I pick it up again and see that it’s not like any kind of car I’ve seen before. It’s more like a big bird with outstretched wings.

  “Anyone there?” I call.

  There’s no answer so we move in closer. Me carefully, Von more carefree.

  It really is a strange vehicle. Apart from wings, it also has a pointed nose with what looks like a broken propeller – like those you get on a big boat, although they’re always at the rear under the water, not up front. I can also see that it’s rusted through with the wheels splayed out under it, as if it’s been in the air and come down hard.

  No, that’s not possible.

  All I can think of is the children’s story about the giant throwing down boulders from his mountain. It’s like he threw this winged car to the ground too, because I cannot think of any other way to explain it.

  But now I’m close enough to see something else. There’s a driver sitting inside and… oh…

  The face is a skeleton.

  I pull the door. There’s a loud creaking and a crack and the damned thing comes away in my hand. I throw it aside. The long-dead driver’s thick brown jacket suggests cold weather, so that would take us back a good few months – although I’m thinking he’s been here much longer than that.

  Searching the pockets, I find a few things. A folded map, an ID card with a photograph on it, and a water flask with a hole through it. The jacket also has a hole in it. I stand back. Someone put a bullet through the door, through the jacket, through the water flask, and into the driver’s heart.

  I toss the flask aside and study the ID card. It’s nothing like mine. It has a picture of him – a round-faced man in his thirties – and some printed details.

  Flight Officer Charles G Kellerman

  AF Base

  Skyview, South State

  It doesn’t make much sense. What’s a flight officer, and what is AF Base? And what about Skyview, South State? Is that a town?

  “What do you make of it, Von?”

  Von sits.

  I stare at the long dead man for a while longer, but I still can’t make it out.

  “Come on, Von. Let’s leave him in peace.”

  Before we get back to the wagon, Ben is walking toward us.

  “You okay?” I call.

  “Ax is being a nuisance.”

  I race past him to the wagon. Ax is all over Zu.

  “What’s the matter with you, Ax?”

  “Leave us alone,” he slurs.

  Zu pulls herself away.

  “It’s alright,” she says. “He’s only being friendly.”

  But it’s not alright. Ax won’t be happy with just kissing and holding for too long.

  He gets to his feet, clutching the last of the cider.

  “You’re meant to be an officer,” I remind him. “You volunteered to serve.”

  “I never volunteered,” he slurs into my face.

  I shove him. He comes back at me, mean and angry. I grab the cider.

  “Stop it!” Ben yells. “Both of you.”

  Ax grins at me. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve upset your boyfriend.”

  I pour what’s left of the cider onto the ground, half expecting Ax to kick me or something, but he climbs under the wagon and drops straight off to sleep.

  “We should leave him behind,” I say to Zu.

  “I told you – he was only being friendly.”

  I sit down, my back to the wagon. Von curls up beside me. Funny how the cider peeled away Ax’s mask. He didn’t volunteer. The originals were all volunteers. Over five hundred put their names forward. More than was needed at the time. If Ax didn’t volunteer, why was he made to enlist? Was it a punishment for something?

  While I rest, Zu starts cooking up more horse meat to take with us. Just as well, because it’s taking time for my fight with Ax to fade enough for me to think again about what I saw.

  Finally, I share the details of my extraordinary discovery.

  “A flying car?” Ben says. “Are you sure?”

  “Maybe it’s some kind of balloon,” Zu says.

  “It’s a big heavy thing, timber and metal, and there’s a man inside it. It’s not a balloon, Zu.”

  “It must be a new kind of car then,” she says. There’s uncertainty in her voice – a dislike for the unknown, maybe, and a need to quickly explain away the strange vehicle rather than mull over its mysterious possibilities.

  “Zu’s probably right,” Ben says. “Some new kind of car that got lost. Otherwise we’d have to believe in flying cars.”

  “Flying cars don’t exist,” Zu insists.

  I give up. It’s too hot for arguing.

  While we rest, I unfold Charles G Kellerman’s map. It takes a moment to understand what I’m seeing.

  South State.

  It’s a big area with a sprinkle of towns. And I can see Skyview, although there’s no mention of AF Base.

  Next to South State is Lake Country. And I can see a big lake marked on it as a blue area. And there’s Freedom Country. It’s a far more detailed map than the Representative’s.

  Flight Officer.

  I think about that. Did he really fly?

  8. Crystal

  BEN

  I’m awake just before dawn, lying on my back, looking at the sky, waiting for the sun.

  I roll onto my side. The eastern horizon has a changing hue. The angels of light are at work, chasing away the devils in their dark cloaks. What does the day holds for us? Better things? Or will it grind us into the hot baked dirt?

  Jay is looking in the same direction.

  “A few weeks ago, I would have written a poem about all this,” she says. “The Heroic Journey…”

  She focuses.

  “Silent is the end of night,

  Soft, the glow of morning light,

  Hard the trail that lies ahead,

  Sweet this moment in our bed…”

  It makes me feel warm and fuzzy, but she doesn’t continue because Ax is waking up groaning. He cost us a whole day yesterday. I
hope he’s proud of himself.

  “Feeling better?” Jay asks.

  “I’m fine,” he insists.

  Once we’re ready, we hit the trail. Thankfully, we have cold meat and water, but it’s one of those quiet days where nobody talks much. It’s fatigue and the awkwardness brought about by Ax’s selfish display of drunkenness, and Zu’s forgiveness toward him. I’m not certain where that leaves us. I guess Ax would be happy if Jay and I were in love and having intimate relations, then he’d be free to take advantage of Zu. But that will not be happening. All our determination is needed if we’re to make it to the Lake Towns.

  Okay, so I do feel something for Jay. And yes, it’s a growing feeling, and yes, I have thoughts occur without my wanting them, and yes, those thoughts have involved us being entwined…

  Hard the trail that lies ahead,

  Sweet this moment in our bed…

  Why did she say bed and not beds? Was it a message to me? Or did it just rhyme better? I watch her walking ahead of me. The rhythm of her body. Maybe it’s better when we don’t like anyone. Then we don’t have to worry if they die from sickness or gunshots.

  People used to say I had an optimistic outlook, that I always saw the bright side of things. That seems to have died in me, but I need to find it again. I have to be positive. I have to believe we can survive and do some good.

  Ahead of Jay, Zu is with Von. I worry about her. She thinks Ax will make love to her and marry her, but he’s not ready to settle down anytime soon. I know about men’s desires. And I know how some of us can control it and some can’t or won’t. I get the feeling Ax will drop Zu like a hot coal once his situation improves. It leaves me with this terrible image of her with a swollen belly and him long gone.

  Although… once again, I have to question myself. I have no right to stop them or tell Zu what’s what. If all she desires is to have a captain of the army give her some small pleasure in a dangerous world, what business is it of mine? None, I guess.

  At the end of the day, as the sun goes down, I feel confused. I want all of us men to be magnificent, but I don’t think we are.

  JAY

  I’m awake early and I’m hungry. But I feel ready to continue our journey with renewed hope. With the dawn light coming up, I take out the letter and study the first few lines.

  3 098/9&+ ~9809/. a+ a& 3 #53b~9 820 18a275~ 05+ +6 +9~~ 65 +#8+ +#9 $8/ a2 +#9 26/+#-$9&+ 069& 26+ g6 $9~~. 65/ g929/8~ #8& ~a90 +6 65. $9 8/9 b/a2ga2g 4#a~0/92 a2+6 65/ 7ag#+a2g /82k& 26$.

  In the cooler dawn air, I try harder to recall the words games I used to play with Pa, where I had to decode a message to learn the whereabouts of a treat. I used to think it strange that he always told me never to show anyone else how to play the game.

  I wish I could recall his rules for success, but I can’t. I just never gave it the importance I did to my schoolwork. Anyway, without paper and ink, it’s impossible. It’s not like I can scrawl hundreds of dirt marks on the back of the Representative’s small envelope.

  Ax makes a sound. A sleeping into waking sound. I nudge Ben’s foot. He stirs. I look to Von, lying about twenty yards away. That’s unusual for him. He always sleeps right by us.

  “Von?”

  He looks up. He looks worried.

  “Where’s the meat?” Ben asks. “It was right by me.”

  We had all the meat in Zu’s bag.

  Great…

  I look to Von again, and sure enough there’s the bag way beyond him. I go to get it but stop a few yards short. I know it’s empty because some dumb mutt has thrown up a huge mound of half-digested horse meat next to it.

  “Oh you greedy, greedy…” But I’m too disappointed to be angry.

  “He didn’t, did he?” Ax says.

  “I thought they could eat twenty pounds,” I say.

  “Maybe in the cold north,” Ben says. “Maybe not in the warm south.”

  Ax pulls out his gun. “Whether he kept it down or not is missing the point.”

  “No,” I tell him.

  “Stand aside, Jay.”

  “I won’t.”

  His eyes flare with anger, but he puts the gun away.

  “We have a long day ahead,” I say. “Let’s get ready to move.”

  I decide it would be a good idea to ditch two of our packs as we don’t have much to carry. We’ll take turns with the load.

  As ever, finding water is tough but not impossible. Every so often we find a little creek – always drying up, for sure, but still with a dribble here and there. Finding something we can eat is the problem. As ever, we dig for worms and all kinds, but it doesn’t satisfy. What I’d do for a plate of mashed potatoes, vegetables, and a big trout, washed down with a big cup of milk and an apple.

  I look around. It’s so dead here. There might be more food sources to be had in the mountains to the north, but we just don’t have the strength. All we can do is head straight for Town 775, Purity – which the map says is fifteen to twenty miles away. It’s just in this heat it’ll feel twice as far.

  Five miles on, I become aware of a dip running not far off the trail to our right. There’s more greenery there. Could it be our luck is changing?

  “Must be water,” Ben says. We still have some in our flasks but it’s always a priority to fill them when possible.

  Getting closer, we’re greeted by a pleasant surprise.

  “Oh, let me at it,” Zu says.

  It’s a creek, but for once there’s enough water to splash into. And so we do, fully-clothed. And we have fun, splashing each other and rolling around in the twelve-inches of water. Von lets out little yelps as he charges through it like crazy.

  Eventually, Ax and I leave Ben, Zu, and Von to it.

  “You like Ben, don’t you,” Ax says, settling down on the bank a few feet away from me.

  “We should concentrate on getting to the Lake Towns,” I tell him.

  “Maybe, when all this is over, you should take a husband.”

  “I’m not eighteen, so it’s not on my mind.”

  “And me a wife.”

  “Don’t say that to Zu. She’s too young.”

  “Where she comes from, she’s old enough.”

  “You’re from Forbearance and you don’t want her for a wife.”

  “Forbearance…” He says it with a sigh. “I’ll go back there one day to see Ma. I won’t stay though.”

  Zu comes over.

  “How long can we stay?”

  “Not long,” Ax says.

  I notice her wet shirt shows her nips through the thin material. She’s removed her breast binding at some point, and now we have a problem. I wish she wouldn’t break with decency, but I’m actually really jealous because my bosom feels so cooped up and in need of some freedom.

  “One more splash,” I say. “But us girls will be separate from you boys. Do not follow.”

  I lead Zu away until we’re far enough away to protect our modesty, then we remove everything to truly enjoy the water. It’s a kind of luxury I haven’t enjoyed since I took my last monthly bath.

  It doesn’t last. I see the boys coming our way, so Zu and I dress quickly and greet them.

  “Ready?” Ax asks.

  “Let’s just sit for a minute. Gather our strength.”

  We sit on the bank in a row. Von flops onto his side, his damp fur now steaming.

  I’m struck by the way the light plays on the water. It reminds me of something from another time.

  “The surface of the water looks like diamonds,” I say.

  “What are diamonds?” Ben asks.

  “They’re like tiny pieces of glass,” Ax says.

  “Yes, but they’re more brilliant,” I say. “The light doesn’t just shine off them, it explodes off their surfaces.”

  “Never heard of them,” Zu says.

  “They were on some jewels I saw once,” I say. “They were displayed at the town hall. Belonged to the old Leader’s wife. Part of a memorial tour.”

  “They didn�
�t come to our valleys,” Ben says.

  “Maybe there’s no culture in your valleys,” I say.

  Ben scoops up a handful of water and lets me have it. So I get him back and we’re off again splashing and laughing. But only for a minute. We really do need to save our energy.

  “We ought to get on,” Ax says. “The sun’s getting lower.”

  All too soon, we’re back on the eastern trail, with me keeping an eye on the creek to our right, willing it not to wander too far away from us. And it obliges. Because, amid all this dry yellow grass, there’s a green line a little way off, snaking its way east, mile after mile. Until we meet a hill that is. While the trail takes us painfully upward, the water heads off south east.

  “Couldn’t we follow the creek?” Zu says.

  “It could snake round for miles,” Ax says.

  “We need to get to Purity before we starve,” Ben accurately points out.

  We continue up the trail.

  This kind of hill would normally be nothing, but right now it hurts. Luckily, it’s not too long a climb and we’re soon at the top and taking a look back at where we’ve come from. Across eternity, it would seem.

  We continue across the flattish top and down the other side, toward another wide, open vista and some mountains a good way ahead. If the maps are right, we should be turning south before we reach them. I do hope so.

  At the bottom of the hill, we fill our flasks from a small, almost dry creek and continue. Although I’m grateful for the water, drinking it makes me feel hollow.

  We walk on, over a brow.

  “Seems to be things growing,” Ben says.

  He’s right. Up ahead, we have fruit trees and bushes, and crops. Barley, by the look of it.

  “Purity?” Zu asks.

  “It can’t be far,” I say.

  We pick some berries but have trouble finding any that are truly ripe. I have never been so hungry.

  There’s another creek running parallel south of the trail. It flows through a half-evaporated lake, meaning there’s even more greenery hereabouts. It’s just a pity we don’t see any ducks or geese floating on the water. These seem ideal stretches. We try to find some fish but we waste time searching when luck isn’t on our side.