Traveling Merchant (Book 1): Merchant

by Seymour, William J.

  Temperatures have dropped since they left that small town and continue to fall with every hour. He can see the skin on the girl’s forehead going dry, and she is beginning to slow. Snake-Eyes glides behind them, his steps falling in line behind Merchant, but it would not matter. He leaves no tracks but, instead, leaves a wake of aggravation as his relentless chatter increases as the air grows colder.

  “You may end up eating her anyway, demon,” Snake-Eyes says. “I mean, I am pretty sure it would have been nicer while she was still warm and particularly if she was a willing participant, but if we don’t find a way out of this frozen tundra, you are going to have a frozen popsicle leading you soon.”

  Merchant glares back at the ghost, who smiles back and licks his lips.

  Damn ghosts are always right.

  “How much further do we need to go? If your brother is this far out, I’m going to guess he hasn’t made it even if you didn’t kill him yourself,” Merchant calls to the young woman.

  His voice barely carries over the wind.

  She stops, and he can see how the snow reaches her knees. Pulling the scarves away from her face, she blows out several puffs of steam from her bright red lips. Tiny scales now mark the skin between her ear and the corner of her left eye.

  “Not much further. Judging by the sun, we still have half a day left to keep moving, and we will find my brother down by the river,” she says before replacing the scarves and pushing her way forward. “Another hour or so, if we hurry.”

  River?

  Merchant shrugs, positions his bag further up his shoulders, and follows her. A river in this frozen wasteland? He begins to wonder if she is as crazy as the idea of tracking down a single infected to kill him for mercy. Watching her move, he sees the pistol she offered him create a bulge in the jacket she has pulled tight against her. A gift for doing the one thing she couldn’t do, but he did not take it. There are enough burdens weighing him down and enough ghosts following him and chatting without end. He does not need another, and this world will not cry with one less infected roaming around looking for its next meal. He will do this for free. A favor for a favor.

  Snake-Eyes is, of course, not very happy about this arrangement. Rules are rules, he complains. For the first hour, the words ran endlessly through the wind, but out here there are no rules. He makes them as he goes along and does as he sees fit. She will see to it that he finds the girl who had been taken by this man-god after they kill her brother. That is all he needs to hear.

  Within forty minutes the world begins to change before them. The sun is closer to the western horizon, and the sky to the east is darkening and chasing at their heels. The wind howls like a beast that waits for them to drop their guard, but there is also something else that roars behind the constant noise.

  “What is that sound?” Merchant asks.

  He cups his hand to his ear and tries to distinguish the echoes, but it is a sound outside of this world.

  “That is the Platte River. Sounds like a fucking monster until you get to it,” Cherry answers.

  She keeps her head down against the tide of blowing snow and pushes forward.

  “Water would be frozen out here. How can it still be moving?”

  Cherry doesn’t answer. Merchant looks back at Snake-Eyes, who is following the sight of the clouds that roll across the sky. When he notices that Merchant is looking at him, he shrugs.

  “Don’t look at me. I was never any good at that whole science thing. I was always better in health class.”

  The ghost’s tongue sticks out, and he licks at the air with a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “Asshole,” Merchant mumbles.

  “What was that?” Cherry Red asks.

  “The wind,” Merchant answers and closes the distance between them.

  Ahead, he begins to see where the ground starts to drop off. Shadows lengthen in the late afternoon sun, but where the hill begins to fall, the darkness fills in completely. Drawing closer the sound of the river is a freight train going downhill with no brakes. The cresting of water over rocks echoes in the cavern with such thunder he can hardly think.

  “How is this possible?” Merchant asks.

  She ignores him again and turns west where the ground slopes less. Soon, they are on the edge, looking down as the water rushes past over a hundred feet below. A river as clean and clear as the afternoon sky rushes by, cutting its path through rock walls like a hot knife through butter. Rapids break the surface in dozens of places, churning the river as it snakes its way through the cavern.

  “My brother is there,” she says and points further up the ravine.

  A building sits against the stone face. Cut into the earth itself, giant bricks stretch with dark open windows that follow all the way down to the river bed. Large gates create teeth that mimic a living face. Mournful in death, it stairs up at Merchant. Metal looks rusted and old from this distance, the structure cut from a different age, hidden from the world by the rocks and the shadows.

  “Follow me. We want to be down by the river before darkness settles in or we’ll never make our way safely.”

  Merchant follows as the young woman slowly moves along the cavern walls, delicately sliding her boots through the snow until she is all but hanging over the edge.

  “We go down here. Follow my prints as much as you can. You’re a big guy, but try not to act like one right now. It is a long way to the bottom.”

  Doing as he is told, Merchant steps into the small impressions left by the woman. There are steps buried beneath the snow. They descend along the side of the cavern, a sheet of ice covering the rocks like skin, and icicles as long as spears hang dangerously over their heads. Cherry Red moves slowly. Sure-footed, but cautiously, she leads them further into the ravine.

  Merchant takes in the size of the hidden structure. They are not yet to the ground but already the ancient walls tower over him, and he can feel its history bearing down on his shoulders. A lot of people have died here. He can feel their souls lingering in these walls.

  “What is this place?” he asks.

  She shrugs.

  “I have no idea. I found it when I had to bring my brother out here. Doors are rusty, and the place smells like stale piss, but the locks still work. I hate knowing that he sits here wasting away, but what could I do? They were going to kill him, and deep inside, I know my brother is still there somewhere.”

  She taps the side of her head and continues to lead them forward.

  “But now you want him dead?”

  They reach the bottom, and she wheels around and steps up until she presses her chest against his. The shadows rule down by the river and very little more than her bright red hair and face is visible.

  “I do not want him dead. But I also do not want him to suffer any longer. I don’t have the strength or the heart to do it myself,” she says. A tear begins to make its way across her cheek and falls off the tip of a scale that peels away from her skin. “Every time I look him in the eye, I break down and can’t make myself do it.”

  “But I can.”

  “That is why you are here, big man. Just make it quick like you did the others. Then I’ll lead you to your lady friend.”

  Merchant nods his agreement and looks up at the colossal building that awaits their arrival. Teeth of metal bars and a mouth of darkness and death awaits them. Somewhere deep inside, her brother sits. An infected who is hungry and most likely very angry.

  “Sure is sad that you two can’t go skinny dipping before you go and throw some other poor schmuck from a window,” Snake-Eyes says by the river bank.

  Dark smooth stones line the water’s edge, and Merchant begins to make his way over.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Cherry Red says.

  Merchant stops and turns.

  “Why?”

  “This,” she answers before she kicks at a branch of a long dead tree that is buried in snow and frozen to the ravine’s wall.

  Wood splinters, and she is
able to pull it away. With a grunt, she heaves it toward the water. The river swallows the short log whole and water splashes high into the air before settling down again. Slowly, the wood rises to the top, but steam and smoke sizzle where the piece begins to melt away.

  “Acid?” Merchant asks.

  “Yep. A dirty bomb went off further up river about five years ago. There is so much poison in there it will never freeze again. Anything that touches it burns away immediately.”

  “That’s why this ravine is here. It cut itself through the ground.”

  “Now you are catching on. Only thing it doesn’t seem to touch is this dark stone and that building. Whatever it is seems to hold it back.”

  Merchant lets his eyes follow the rushing water. All of it poison, every drop of it deadly.

  “We better hurry. Night is here, and we can’t sleep out by the water,” Cherry Red says and begins to make her way toward their first destination.

  Hesitating a moment, Merchant eyes the deadly river and the ancient walls full of shadows and ghosts. Shifting the bag over his shoulder, he follows. There will be no turning back.

  Eleven

  Today

  Shadows broken by green flashing light and red buttons that beg to be pressed. Empty beds line both sides of the wall. Her heart monitor is the only one on. She begins to wonder if it is the only one that actually works. Down at the end of the room, light filters in from the hallway. Two bright windows leave yellow squares on the floor. The white walls on the other side are blinding and lifeless.

  Elizabeth is alone. This makes her happy, but so do the drugs. And the pillows. The back of her head is so warm, and she can turn her face to either side and the comfort continues no matter what.

  They did not give her as many of the good ones this time. She is mostly numb, but if she tries to move her arm or hand, the pain cuts in like knives.

  Turning her head, she watches the little green line as it races across the screen, jumping with every heartbeat.

  Boop.

  Boop.

  Boop.

  She holds her breath and watches the tiny mountains speed up. When her lungs burn, she lets out the hot air and takes in a deep breath. The valleys increase and the sound begins to slow. A giggle like a little girl slips from her lips and out of her control.

  Boop.

  Boop.

  She smiles. It is so much nicer to be alone.

  “You did a silly thing back there last night,” Alexis says.

  The young girl materializes out of the shadows by the head of her bed.

  “Holy fucking shit, girl!” Elizabeth exclaims.

  The little mountains of green on the screen jump and rush. Her words are heavy and slow. Excitement runs through her body, but it is as if she wades through mud and the world is moving in slow motion. She tries to shift away. Razor wire rips through her shoulder and chest, and she lets out a scream that is more like a moan.

  “Whoa, please be still,” Alexis cautions.

  Small, delicate hands help pull Elizabeth back to her spot on the bed, though she never successfully moved that far. Cold skin cools against the warmth of Elizabeth’s neck, and the young woman straightens her blanket up until it is tucked nice and tight against her.

  “You are badly hurt. It will take days before you are strong again. Thank God, the Chosen found you when he did and brought you back here. You would have died out there in the snow.”

  Tears are now running down the girl’s cheeks. She brushes her hair away from her eyes.

  “Those men?” Elizabeth asks, the memories crashing over the walls created by the drugs.

  “It is horrible what they were trying to do to you. The Chosen one punished one of them when he found you. The other is awaiting his sentence.”

  “You mean he killed them with his bare hands.”

  Alexis does not answer.

  Elizabeth can still see the man’s life being choked out of him by a single hand, and then his lifeless body being hurled over the fence like a bag of sticks. So much power and fury wrapped into the body of one man. Wiggling her head, she tries to position herself until she is comfortable again. Her soft pillows now feel flat and cold.

  “Did they do more than hurt you, Elizabeth?” Alexis asks.

  She is seated on the closest bed, her hands folded together and her eyes watching her own feet as they dangle above the tile floor.

  “More than hurt me? What the fuck is worse than this?” Elizabeth demands.

  Moving her arms and shoulders sends a furious rage of fire through her body, and once again, the speed of the green line begins to race across the screen.

  “I’m sorry if it upsets you. I’m just so worried about you and wanted to make sure,” Alexis says before her words trail off.

  “You want to know if they raped me?”

  Alexis’ brown hair lifts, revealing eyes swollen with tears. She cannot say the words, but nods instead.

  “No, those fucks never got to complete the job. That giant fucker…”

  “Our father’s Chosen.”

  “Yeah, that bastard ripped them off me like a troll squashing hobbits. Waited till the last possible moment, too.”

  “Hobbits?”

  A small chuckle rolls through Elizabeth, and she sighs.

  “You really are sheltered here, aren’t you?”

  “Our father protects us from the dangers of this world. Soon, we will see peace again. He has willed that our way of life be spread to all corners of this planet.”

  Elizabeth turns away and watches the monitor beep, and the room falls to silence.

  Why can’t she be alone? For once in her life, just let someone realize she doesn’t want them around and leave her in peace.

  Long minutes pass. The young girl waits, her slippers swinging and her breathing shallow and slow. Elizabeth wants to sleep, close her eyes and wake up when all these crazy people have moved on, but the frustration now overpowers the drugs and all she can do is watch that little green line.

  Boop.

  Boop.

  Boop.

  The room lightens up as the door at the end of the row swings open. Glaring yellow light pollutes the dark solitude and the father steps through. Elizabeth eyes the bastard with contempt, but the Chosen is close behind. She wants to be angry, even furious, but the emotions die away as the memory of him pulling the men off her resurfaces. His shoulders and muscles bulge as he crosses his arms over his chest and does not take a step closer than the doorway.

  “You can leave us be, Alexis. Our sister here needs her rest,” Father says.

  “But, Father, she needs care and—”

  “No buts. We will make sure that Elizabeth gets all the attention she needs to make a full recovery.”

  A smile spreads across his face, and he presents the door with one sweeping arm. The Chosen turns to the side to let her out, and Alexis, with one final glance at Elizabeth, begins to make her way out of the room.

  “She needs so much, Father.”

  “I know my child, and we are all so appreciative for your help. Now go, I will be with her for only a moment and soon she’ll be resting again.”

  A half-smile creases the young girl’s lips, and she disappears down the hall. The monster lets the door swing shut and positions himself in front of it, his wide shoulders blocking the light.

  “Now, Elizabeth…” Father says.

  He crosses one arm over his chest and taps his lips gently with a finger of the other hand.

  “That was such a stupid and terrible thing you did last night,” he says before seating himself on the end of her bed.

  She tries to recoil away, but the pain and stiff covers force her into place.

  “It’s not like I asked them to do this to me,” she says.

  His smile says he can see the bullshit she spits from a mile away.

  “I’m not here to talk about what those men tried to do to you. Our Chosen here made sure that our ugly situation with those two was appropri
ately handled.”

  The big man says nothing and doesn’t move a muscle as he waits by the door.

  “Then what the fuck do you want?”

  The smile on his face disappears, and his eyes go hard as stones.

  “You know exactly what I’m here to talk about, and when I’m done, we’ll all be sure you won’t make that same mistake again.”

  The soft, hazy light of a new day burns at her eyes. Filtered through heavy clouds, everything is gray and dull. The air is brisk with the approach of another storm, and yet Elizabeth squints as she walks down the main street of the village. Children race between stalls and through alleys formed by short, squat structures. Plywood nailed between the patchwork of scavenged boards create most of their homes. Where solid beams and rock could not be found, thick canvas and bundled field grass is tied tightly into place. Smoke rolls from openings in all the structures. Fires give the air a burning scent, both fresh and polluted.

  She can see the outlines of the old city that this town used to be. Foundations and skeletal walls still stand in all directions. Sidewalks and broken asphalt break the surface of the snow where footsteps and cart traffic has melted everything into a muddy mess. A thick layer of the dark grime covers her up to her knees. The homes of hundreds are built around and over the remains of a people lost in the past. Guessing, she figures the old city stretched at least five to six miles. Now, within its fenced encasement, they cannot extend more than a mile in either direction.

  He keeps his flock close. Always within his grasp.

  Their father.

  Her captor.

  She spits on the ground. The saliva melts the dirty snow, and she kicks at it with her boots. They have given her thicker clothing now that she hobbles around like a cripple. Stiff padding and tight bandages wrap around stitches and a sling pulls her right arm in close. Her body is covered in a gray sweatshirt material. Her pants hang loose over her legs, and it is too easy for a stiff breeze to find its way in to her skin. Her shirt and coat stretch because of the extra padding. Her shoulders rub against the edge of her neck, irritation bothering her incessantly and bringing back thoughts of their damn Chosen.