*
After two hours of uneventful walking, Barsch awoke from his well-deserved rest. Initially he was confused, but after several minutes of explanation from Kingston, he calmed down significantly. However, no matter how much they tried, Alza refused to awaken. She lay there, in Maloch’s gentle grip, as still as a corpse. It reminded Barsch of how she had been after he had first seen her, all those nights ago in Kingston’s bedroom.
“I know that she’s just recovering, but I can’t help but think that one of these days she’ll stay asleep for good.”
Barsch tore his gaze away from her sleeping figure and glanced upwards, to where the sun now sat. Judging by its position, it was fast approaching noon.
After another hour of walking, they reached the gentle slopes of the grey mountains. They were smaller than those near Kingston’s hut, but were still formidable. Thankfully, there was no need to brave their slopes unguided, as a well-worn path was quickly located. Noticing Barsch’s questioning gaze, Kingston explained that the area they were entering was well known for its mines, and that the path was probably a remnant of a mine-car track. No sooner had he said this, did they discover old pieces of metal bolted to the ground, alongside several broken mine-cars.
Ignoring the unusable relics, the group continued onwards. The path wound around the cold peaks and alongside steep cliff-side trails. Dotted throughout the landscape were more forgotten relics of the mining history, such as blocked off mine entrances and chipped spades and picks in their hundreds. It seemed as though a company of miners might round a corner at any moment, with faces covered in soot and gumboots muddied. But Barsch knew in his heart that no such thing was possible, and that aside from Kingston and Alza, he was the only human awake in the world.
More than once, he had felt the bitter pangs of homesickness, though what home he longed for, of the multitude he had had in his youth, he could not say. He also felt a strong desire to return to Genesis Station 13, as it was a place of safety in a dangerous world. Before reaching the oasis, he had often entertained the notion that he would return to his pod once Kingston was well, and that he would happily fall asleep once more. He would sleep his dreamless sleep for another five-hundred years, and when he awoke, it would be to a rejuvenated world, filled with his friends.
He would tell them of his adventures, of the strange hermit who had saved him and taught him so much, and of the mysterious girl, who had brought excitement and wonder into his monotonous world. He would even tell them of Maloch, who was like no other re-mech he had ever encountered. Sure, they would laugh and go along with it, whilst his father would commend him on making up such wondrous tales. But, they would never truly believe him, and when he was out of earshot, they would laugh at him and call him an imaginative fool. He would go to bed each night, wondering what had happened to the hermit and the girl; if they had found what they were searching for; if they had been happy; and if he had made the wrong choice.
However, that had all changed once he had met the Avatars, and heard their tale. He knew now that he could no longer just run away to the blissful ignorance of the pod. Whatever the reason, he was staying. He refused to abandon the others, after all they had been through. He knew that his choice would bring him a lot of pain and suffering but; when he was reunited with his father, he would be able to face him with a smile on his face.
“Barsch!” cried a fatigued Kingston.
Barsch immediately jerked to a stop, and it was a good thing he did, as he was standing at the edge of a precipice. If he had not stopped, he would have disappeared without so much as a word.
“Whew! Thanks Kingston,” he said, shaking his head to dispel his distracting thoughts. Yumiere had always joked about how he would get so caught up in his own thinking that he would not even notice the end of the world. And she had been right, in a way, it almost had been the end of his world.
“Are you okay m’boy? You looked like you were lost in your own world for a while there.”
“Sorry, I was just thinking about something...” Seeing Kingston’s worried expression he added, “I... I was thinking about home...”
Kingston had a pained look on his face when he replied, “Ah... sorry, I know that all of this wasn’t exactly what you signed up for. You wanted to help an old man find some medicine and ended up hundreds of miles from home with no clear way back…” At the end, he added, in a whispered voice, “You must hate me…”
“No! It’s not like that! I was just thinking of how much I’ve experienced since I met you, and how… I don’t want our journey to end yet.” Barsch tried to brighten up, even going so far as to clap his hands together and give Kingston a big smile, but the moment his bloodied fingers connected he let out a small whimper.
Kingston saw the pain in his eyes and heard his exclamation and, without a word, tore a long strip from his shirt and wrapped it around Barsch’s injured hands.
“There we go. All better now!” He looked at his handiwork for a moment before continuing, in a more serious tone, “Barsch m’boy, you have to promise me that you won’t do anything else that will bring you harm, okay? We can’t return you to your family all covered in scrapes and bruises, now can we?”
Barsch tentatively felt his wrapped fingers, glad that the pain was already beginning to subside. “Thanks Kingston. I’ll try.”
Their brief exchange over, they rounded the last bend in the path and went to re-join Maloch, who had gone on ahead. Far below them, and stretching out as far as they could see, was a large, dusty plateau. The earth was red and cracked, with countless faults crisscrossing the landscape. Hundreds of plants and shrubs dotted the land, evidence of a large water source nearby. The path did not end at the base of the mountain as they had expected, but split into several branches that spread out into the distance.
The climb down was surprising easy, as the trail loped back and forth in wide arcs, which lessened the steepness of the descent by a large margin. They walked in silence, each too tired to talk, and trying desperately to stay awake. The weather was certainly not on their side, as the temperature began to rise the closer they came to the plateau. It was not the burning heat of the desert, it was a different kind of heat, one that stayed with you day and night, slowly sapping your strength. They left the grey mountains the same way they had entered them: without a sound.
Awakening Page 109