by Sam Ryder
We said few words, just enjoying the release and the freedom the water offered us.
Soon, the sun had almost dried our clothes, so we hopped up onto the rocks to let the sun dry us as well. In the distance, we watched Gehn and Chuck return from their walk. By the time they made it back, we were dressed and clean, ready for sleep.
Chuck bounded up to me. “Hey, boy!” I greeted him. He sniffed me in several sensitive places, surely realizing what had happened while he was gone. “Have a nice walk?”
“We did,” Gehn said. A relaxed smile spread across her face. “Plus, we spotted an outpost just to the north of us. A few buildings, probably a bar. We could stop for a drink and see what anybody knows. It’s a real shit-hole, so I doubt we’ll run into anyone from the Guild or Rising.”
“Good,” I said. “We’ll check it out after some rest.”
We crawled into the wagon and lay down. Hannah and Gehn were not shy about pulling themselves in close on either side while Chuck curled up at my feet. Beneath the canvas cover, we were safe and happy, and soon we drifted off to sleep. The problems we would surely face could wait.
Chapter 21
Gathering intel
When we awoke, we set off toward where Gehn had spotted the outpost. There was still a measure of daylight, though it was waning, the shadows lengthening. After only a few minutes, we could make out the outline of the buildings in the far distance against the setting-sun backdrop.
“Have you ever been to Rome, Cutter?” Hannah asked.
“Not in years,” I said. “I left Rome before it was Rome. That’s where most of us started, right? The Rising was just getting started, actively recruiting members. I didn’t like what was happening, how they were trying to control everything. I made tracks as soon as I could get enough coin and supplies to set out on my own.”
Hannah nodded. “We should probably go over a game plan for when we arrive,” she said. “Rome is a tough place to be, unless you’re a member of the Rising or a First. Even that, it seems, may be a problem.”
“And especially if you’re an Ender,” Gehn said.
“Agreed,” I said. “When we get to this outpost, we’ll gather some intel. Even the bartender will know a thing or two. You two may have lived there, but it sounds like everything has changed since you left. We need to get a lay of the land, if we can. The faster we can find the dream reader, the better.” I still wasn’t sold on the whole dream reader thing, but I believed in Gehn and her feelings, so it was the best we had to go on for now.
The sun blazed overhead as we pulled into the small outpost.
Calling it “small” was generous. It was basically comprised of three dilapidated structures clustered around a single intersection. One of the places was a bar, of course. One was a two-story house. From the outside, I couldn’t figure out what the third building was, other than a piece of shit that should be knocked down and rebuit.
It didn’t matter, though. I knew which door I was walking through.
I sighed with relief when we pushed open the old, rotted door of the bar. The bottom corner of the door was missing. It had probably been kicked in at some point, with splinters of wood hanging in the gap. The wood flexed as I turned the knob and pulled it open, the victim of exposure to the elements outside.
The place was empty, save for the bartender, who was sleeping in the corner. A lack of care left stools and tables strewn about. Sticky rings of old booze covered each table, reflecting off the minimal light shining through the windows. The place made The Last Stop look like a fine establishment.
There was no drunk chatter. No music. No evidence of life except the light snoring coming from the corner of the room.
It was perfect.
With a huge smile on my face, I bellied up to the bar and hopped onto a stool. At the end of the bar, slumped in the corner, the bartender rested his head on his elbow.
He didn’t hear us over his own snoring. I slapped my palm down on the top of the bar while the women pulled up stools beside me. Chuck sauntered in through the open door, not interested in being left alone out in the wagon.
The slap shook the bartender awake. His head snapped up, and he blinked the remnants of sleep out of his groggy eyes. He ran his hands through his salt-and-pepper hair and scratched his beard.
“The hell do you want?” he asked.
“Could we see a lunch menu?” I joked. “We’re just here for a drink.”
I ordered a scotch. Hannah had a vodka. Gehn, not sure what to order, had the same.
The old crabass plopped three glasses on the bar top and filled them. I tossed three nickels on the counter and looked at him for confirmation the price was okay. Pricing was fluid these days. The man eyed the girls holstered at my hip and then nodded. Great, I was getting the badass discount.
We raised our glasses for a toast. The grump leaned over the bar to look at Chuck.
“No animals in here,” he grumbled.
I gulped down the first swig of scotch. I didn’t know what bottle it came from, but I wouldn’t order a second one. My throat clenched in agony as if I lit a match and then swallowed it.
“I’ll tell you what; if any of the other customers complain about him, I’ll walk him out the door,” I said.
The guy rolled his eyes and stumbled back to where he’d been sleeping.
“You don’t want to have a conversation?” I asked. “Isn’t that part of your job description?”
“Sorry,” he said. “I figured you didn’t want to talk. People usually don’t anymore.” He turned back around to join us.
“Ah, hell, I was just giving you a hard time about the dog,” I said. “Business been slow?”
He placed his hands on the bar and looked at me like I was an idiot. “This isn’t exactly a major metropolitan area,” he said. “Nobody stays here. We’re just a stop on the way to somewhere else.”
I choked down a little more scotch. My eyes teared up at the burning. But hell, it was better than no scotch at all.
“So, where are you headed?” he asked.
“Rome,” Hannah replied.
“Any business there?” the bartender asked. “Or you guys heading home?”
The women stayed silent. Saying the wrong thing terrified them. That put me in the driver’s seat in these conversations.
“We’ve got business,” I said. “Actually, we hear there’s a dream reader out there. Know anything about someone like that?”
The guy stood up straight, rolled his shoulders back, and stretched his arms over his head. I wondered if he hated interruptions in his afternoon as much as I did.
“Don’t know nothing about dream readers,” he said. “I haven’t been to Rome in a while. I usually stay put here. There are plenty of scam artists in Rome though. Don’t get taken for a ride.”
“What’s the name of this outpost? It’s small as hell,” I said, trying to keep things light.
He chuckled. “Welcome to Suggsville. The name’s Paulie Suggs.”
I tilted my head. “You run this whole place?” I knew how silly those words were the second they escaped from my mouth.
“Well, ‘this whole place’ is just three buildings. It’s me and Caleb. Caleb is my buddy across the street.” He pointed out the door to the other building I didn’t recognize. “Caleb runs the store. We keep a few supplies around. Every week, he heads into Rome to stock up on stuff. We sell everything for three times what we paid for it. Well, usually. You got it for double. It keeps the lights on.”
“What kind of stuff?” Hannah asked. “Beside the booze.”
“A little food, some weaponry. Just things you might need on a journey. He keeps water in stock, too.”
“Do many people swing through?” I asked.
“Ah, you know the wastelands. There are always people wandering around. If they see us, they’re coming in. We’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing around here for miles. If you want a drink or you need a few things, you either need to move m
ore quickly, turn around and go back to where you started, or stop in here.”
This was good news. If he talked to many people in the area, especially from Rome, he might know something that could help us.
“Buddy, have you ever heard of something called the Grid?” I asked. “We’re heading to Rome, and somebody told us that people there have access to this Grid thingy.”
“Oh hell yeah, I’ve heard of the Grid,” he said. “It’s all anyone’s talking about. No one’s had electricity in decades. Not that it’ll help us out here. At least not for years and years. People are flocking to Rome, though.”
“What have you heard? Is it operational yet?”
He leaned back and tilted his head, as if deep in thought. “A couple guys came through here a while back. Hell if I remember when exactly. I’m not the best judge of time. But they came in and sat down to drink. They weren’t interested in talking so I put my head back down.
“After a few drinks, they got chatty. They mentioned the Grid.” He paused to throw back a swig of scotch, wincing as he swallowed.
“So how’d it all happen?” I asked.
“I dunno. I heard they got scientists working on it right now—Firsts working for the Rising, hired out from the Guild. There are also Seconds and Thirds, hardy grunts with shovels, digging up the remains of the old city. It’s mostly corpses and rubble underground, but apparently someone found some kind of old equipment. The Blast toppled over a lot of the old towers, but as far as they can tell, they are all still connected. Or, at least, enough of them are and they think they can reconnect some of the others. The hope is that they can eventually switch things back on and get electricity back.”
A smile spread across his face while he took another swig of the fire. “Can you imagine having electricity again?” he wondered aloud, looking out the window. “Christ, we’ve been without it for a decade. I can’t even remember it. Having electricity would be, like, crazy. We’d be living in the future.”
Living. So funny. Electricity was around for a century before the Blast fucked it up. Having it back would catch us back up to where we used to be, though not entirely. There still wouldn’t be internet. Ha. Internet. How quickly things can change.
“Does it worry you?” I asked. “Like, if the Rising gets this thing rocking again, they’ll control it, you know? They can charge whatever they want for it. You don’t worry about that?”
“Shit, no,” he said. “Look around you, man. I’m stuck here making my living pouring drinks in the middle of goddamn nowhere. I could use a little excitement in my life. A little variety. We get electricity again, and I’ll pay whatever they ask. Cities can start growing. Hell, maybe Suggsville could even grow. So I don’t care who runs the electricity, just as long as I have some of it.”
I nodded to him and gulped down the rest of the scotch. My throat closed up and my stomach shifted. I held my breath to keep it down. The worst scotch I’ve ever had. But hey, the worst scotch is still scotch.
“I guess you’re right,” I told him. “I suppose people don’t care about where their food comes from, either. The Rising controls all that.”
“Exactly,” he said. “Nobody asks questions. They just pay the money. You can either pay them for your food, or you can go out there and get it on your own. I’d rather send Caleb to town with a few bucks and have him come back with a couple weeks’ worth of food, man. That’s a hell of a lot easier than trying to catch a tetroyote every night or spending all my time hunting and gathering. Do I look like some kind of chest-beating warrior?” He didn’t. His belly flopped over his waistline and three chins bearded his neck.
Maybe you’d have more time to hunt if you didn’t sleep in the corner like a lazy bastard, I thought.
“Anyway, what do you care about the Grid? What’s with all the questions?” he asked.
Hannah shook her head. “Nothing, really,” she said. “My friend here had an intense dream a while back. Had to do with the Grid.”
“Still,” Gehn spoke up.
“She still has the dream,” Hannah said. “Someone told us there was a dream reader in Rome, so we hope we can find him and he can tell her what the dream means.”
Hannah was fibbing a bit. The dream didn’t have the Grid in it at all. But it was a good cover. People believed in mystical things these days. Well, except me.
“What happens in the dream?” the bartender asked.
“It’s not important,” I jumped in. “It’s a really personal dream. Are you sure you haven’t heard of a dream reader in Rome?”
He shrugged. “Nope. Can’t help you there. I suppose there is. I mean, if there was a dream reader anywhere in the Ends, they’d probably be in Rome. Dream readers would be pretty smart, right? Probably a First working for the Guild.” I didn’t know about that, but it was possible. Even a scam artist would have brains in order to fool people into paying money for “services.”
I made eye contact with Hannah, who casually dropped her wrist under the bar so the guy couldn’t see her bracelet, though he may have noticed it already.
“I’d imagine it costs a fortune to see a dream reader,” the bartender continued.
An awkward pause. Gehn and Hannah kept drinking.
“Did you hear anything else about the Grid?” I asked, changing course back to the original topic. “How far have they gotten? Are they close to getting it up and running, or what?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “It sounded like they already tried to get it running a couple times, but they haven’t cracked it yet. I think they were trying to get some old solar panels together, or something. They need a way to generate the electrical current reliably, you know? Once they figure that out, it’ll be up, I’m sure. But it could still be years away. Plus, I don’t know if it’s a portion of the power grid or the whole damn thing, or what. The way those two guys were talking, it sounded like nobody knows. You know how rumors and gossip work out here.”
I did, but what he was saying made sense. Electricity didn’t come out of thin air. Even if they could use old infrastructure to provide electricity to various parts of the city, how would they generate the electricity in the first place? Solar made sense, given the amount of sunlight we had these days.
But if they couldn’t get it to work, they weren’t activating anything. But I had to wonder just how close they were.
Chapter 22
Ambush
I burped up that scotch for the next several hours. Outposts in the Ends were such a crapshoot. It was a good reminder why I stuck at The Last Stop. Harrison had the good stuff. This guy did not.
We didn’t stay for long, opting to cover as much ground as we could, especially now that night had fallen in earnest. Rome wasn’t much further away based on what the guy had said, and if we pushed, we could even make it before the next daylight.
Hannah, however, wasn’t convinced we should push that hard. “If we arrive at first light, we won’t have cover.”
I wanted to keep moving, but I didn’t feel like arguing. “Let’s just move as fast as we can and see what happens when we reach the city limits,” I suggested. “We can always camp on the outskirts until tomorrow night.” Grudgingly, Hannah agreed.
The mule was not a fast animal, but was consistent, plodding along without complaint. What felt like midway through the night, we spotted the city limits in the distance, relatively large buildings rising into the sky, blotting out the stars.
The Rising had not figured out how to build taller buildings than anyone else, yet, despite their “advanced intelligence”. So the buildings were two stories as well. But there were a hell of a lot of them.
It looked like an honest-to-God city in the distance. When you’re used to the wastelands peppered with random outposts, Rome sometimes felt bigger than it was. It was just bigger than we all were used to.
Still, it was daunting. I didn’t get intimidated by much, but I was not looking forward to walking through Rome, not after our experience in Geneva,
which was supposed to be a far more accepting city.
I also wondered how they would handle us. When it was clear to everyone in Geneva that our group had an Ender and a First, we became targets, egged into breaking the city laws and, thus, becoming outlaws. And that’s with a bunch of people who were used to seeing Enders on a daily basis. What would happen if the Rising—a group known for their unapologetic hatred of Enders—found out there was an Ender amongst them?
If we were lucky, they would banish us. But Gehn had seen firsthand what would happen if we were unlucky; they’d beat us to death—Gehn for simply existing and Hannah and I for association.
Still, the risks only made me want to act faster, to enact change in any way that I could. But I understood Hannah’s point. Entering the city in broad daylight could attract trouble. But I was fine with that. This whole venture was fraught with risk.
“How are you feeling, Gehn?” I asked under the star-filled sky. It was a probing question, but I didn’t want to be too direct if she was getting some bad vibes.
She stared into the distance. “I’m not sure,” she said. “Not good.”
“If she wasn’t sensing anything, she would feel fine,” Hannah explained. “That she’s unsure means we’re heading into danger.”
Hannah was cautious. It was part of her nature. As a First, she was a thinker. Smart people overthink. I wasn’t an idiot, but nobody ever accused me of overthinking. If I miscalculated, I found Alpha and Beta could get me out of most situations. “Nothing we can’t handle together,” I said. “Things have worked out so far.” It was a simplistic way of thinking, but that didn’t make me wrong.
“We’ve gotten lucky so far,” Hannah said. “But that doesn’t mean we can be reckless. In Rome, letting your guns solve everything would be a mistake. We’re outnumbered there. You can’t just whip out your weapons and make demands. This isn’t some outpost. This is the capital city of the Ends. The Rising owns it. Inciting violence is a one-way ticket to your own death.”