by S T Branton
Behind the teepee where the trucks were parked under a worn-out tarp, I found Deacon already preparing to make the supply run. I’d hoped to catch him and Jules before they left, and it looked like I had plenty of time. He folded the tarp, shaking out the water as best he could so it wouldn’t mildew. “Hey, Vic,” he said casually as I drew near. “You’re up early.”
“You know what they say about early birds,” I smirked. “And lucky for me, you’re still here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Did you just call me a worm?”
I laughed. “Anyway, I’ll go on the supply run with you. In light of the attack last night, I think it’s prudent that you have one more for backup in case something happens.”
“Ah, yeah.” Deacon shook the tarp one more time and placed it in the back of one of the trucks. “Sorry we missed that shindig. It was taken care of so fast that everything was over by the time I knew what was going on.”
I shrugged. “No big deal. Dan, Brax and I had it covered.” I gave him a sharp look. “There was a Were this time, though, and I think that could be a problem.” In the city, I didn’t think I’d seen a single lycanthrope, but the fact that there was one roaming the woods was proof that they had ranged this far east, if rarely. “Might be bigger game on the way, if you get my drift.”
“Yeah, I got it. And I agree. Which means we’re gonna have to start looking for some bigger guns.”
“You mean like this one?” The voice was young but strong, and it caught us off guard. We turned to see a kid strode up with a rifle strapped to his back. The barrel extended above his head like an antenna. He glanced at us, his dark eyes deep and intense. A kerchief was tied around his neck, and a pistol tucked into the pocket of his jeans. “I heard you talking yesterday. Let me go with you. You’re gonna need all the manpower you can get. And womanpower.” He nodded to me. “I don’t mean no disrespect.”
That line alone, plus the guns, almost won me over, but Deacon was more skeptical. “What’s your name?” he asked, surveying the kid. “How old are you? Where’d you get that stuff?”
“What is this, man, the national census?” But the boy’s laugh rang genuinely. “My name is Luis Ortega. I’m eighteen. I got this shit from my grandma’s house. That should tell you all you need to know, eh?”
“Not really,” Deacon said. “Your grandma kept an assault weapon over her mantle, huh?”
Part of me wanted to tell him to cut Luis a break, but I knew he was being cautious.
“Yeah, hermano, maybe she did.” The youngster took the rifle off his back but kept it clutched in both hands, staring the agent down with smoldering defiance. “You wanna take a look or something? Go ahead. I got nothing to hide.”
“I would, yes.” Deacon reached for the weapon, and for a split second, I didn’t think the kid would give it up. But he released it and shoved his hands into his pockets, squaring his posture. While Deacon inspected the firearm, Luis continued. “You ever been to Spanish Harlem? These things are a dime a dozen up there, homes.” He kept his eyes locked on the older man. “Look, I know I coulda gone to school. But school ain’t gonna keep my abuela from starving, you know what I mean? We do what we can to get by, hermano. We do what we can.”
The man handed the gun back. “You can shoot it, I assume.” His tone was still somewhat stern, but his face betrayed that he was quickly warming up to this young man.
“Yes, sir.” Luis nodded. “I’m looking to help, now that I…well…” He stopped and scratched his nose. “You know.”
Deacon looked at me. “What do you think, Vic? Give him a pass, or nah?”
Though this man is young, he is wise beyond his years, and his heart beats true. There were many of him in Rome—desperate youths forced into a life they never wanted, cursed by the station of their birth.
I shrugged. “He’s right. We can use every pair of hands we can get.”
“Then he’s in your car.” The agent palmed a set of keys and tossed them to me. “I’ll take Jules in mine. You guys can lead.”
“Suit yourself, St. Clare.” Motioning for Luis to follow, I headed for the second truck. “Don’t fall too far behind, all right?” To my companion, I said, “Get on in and let’s roll out. The others will catch up soon.” I wanted to get as far ahead of the day as we possibly could to stretch the dwindling daylight. “Keep your head on a swivel while we’re out there.”
“Yeah.” Luis climbed up into the passenger’s seat. “I always do.”
We drove slowly until I found a way to nose us out of the woods and back onto the highway, then we cruised. A few minutes of twisting the radio’s tuning dial found airwaves full of static, so I punched it off and listened to the hum of the tires on the road. My passenger sat quietly for a while, his eyes trained out the window on the gorgeous, rolling farmland. He seemed to be thinking hard about something or other. After a short while, he turned in his seat to watch me instead of the scenery.
“Can I ask you a question?” He was polite but firm. A kid who knew what he was about, even at that clueless age. “You can say no, but I’m curious.”
“Shoot,” I said.
“What’s with that crazy sword you got?” His gaze strayed toward the sheath. “I’ve seen you use it a few times, and I guess I don’t get it. What’s it made of?”
“Honestly, I can’t tell you much about it myself.” It was half a lie. “I got it from a friend of mine, and he wasn’t able to tell me much before he had to go. It doesn’t matter to me as long as it gets the job done.”
“It’s good to have friends. Sometimes.” Luis periodically shifted his line of vision from me to the windshield and all the mirrors in quick succession. He was hypervigilant in a way that made me grateful and sad at the same time—grateful for his thorough observation skills, and sad because I knew he was too young to be so worried about things like that.
“He was just some old guy,” I said nonchalantly. “Told a lot of weird stories about ancient times. He could fight, though, so I let him stick around.”
I object to this highly subjective interpretation of our early relationship.
“I don’t know too many old guys with swords.” Luis shot me a quick, boyish grin.
“Neither did I before I met him. Beats me how he got it,” I said. “That’s a question you’d have to ask him, and he’s long gone now.”
Also untrue. You are filling this young warrior’s head with utter falsehoods, Victoria. Allow me to speak to him.
I grinned and ignored Marcus’s request.
Luis chuckled. “It looks like it can do some pretty cool, freaky stuff though, huh?”
“Yeah, if I’m having a good day.” That much wasn’t a lie. “It’s gotten me through a lot, I’ll tell you that much. The sword and my team. I kind of need them both.”
The kid grew reticent again for a few minutes, chewing idly on the edges of his nails. “I guess your team includes that suit who dug into me back there. I’m surprised he didn’t grill me about my damn family tree.”
“Deacon?” I smiled and shook my head. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s simply trying to make sure we all stay safe. Believe it or not, we haven’t met too many other people who packed much heat as you. I believe you’re an asset a hundred percent, but we can never be too careful.”
“He talks like he got a badge.”
“He’s FBI,” I said.
“Shit. Shit, man! That’s all I need, to get wrapped up with a spook.” Luis made a disappointed sound. “Figures he’s a cop. I’ve never met one who didn’t have it out for me.”
“Hey, c’mon.” I shot him a sidelong look. “I’m not trying to diminish your experiences here, but Deacon’s not a bad guy. He wasn’t asking questions because he’s in law enforcement. He wanted to know who you were and where you got that rifle before you got in the truck with one of us.”
Luis was unconvinced. “Yeah, sure. You say that ʼcause he’s nice to you, but I know they’re all the same, deep down. Got no empathy for
anyone. No sympathy, either.” He sighed. “Do me a favor and watch my back, okay?”
“You watch mine, and you got yourself a deal.”
The quiet returned after he tried his hand at the radio, with similarly disappointing results. He chewed on his stubby nails and watched the countryside glide by. Autumn was out in full force, radiant and bright under the dome of an eggshell sky. The highway stretched out empty before us. Every now and then, crashed or abandoned cars marred the perfect loneliness. Barns and empty hay fields dotted the horizon.
“What do you think is gonna happen now?” Luis finally broke the silence with another question. This one was tense, betraying more than a hint of anxiety. Not that I could blame him.
“I don’t know.” In the face of heavier subjects, I decided to move back to total honesty. “But I can tell you the war is between humans and gods now. No more of this human versus human shit we’ve been doing. There’s no time for it. The lines have been redrawn. Every stupid thing that used to divide humanity is meaningless.”
“No.” Luis vehemently shook his head. “Doesn’t matter if the planet cracks in half tomorrow. People will fight each other all the way down to hell, you know? Those lines are permanent because no one wants to erase them. And that means you can never trust those you don’t know, even if they are still people in a world of fucked-up things.”
“It’s sort of ironic that you walked up and volunteered to help out a group of total strangers, then,” I said, smiling slightly.
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” he responded. “Also, she can help me get my hands on some damn food. I’m starving out here.”
I caught his eye in the rearview mirror, and we both cracked up. He was sort of shy at first, but soon, a belly laugh emerged and he held his stomach in the seat, his shoulders shaking. That was the moment I decided he was good for real, someone worth having on my side for as long as he would stay. Sure, he was a kid, and sure, he had some learning left to do, but I could tell how smart he was, how much he’d already learned about the roughness of the world back when it was still in one piece.
Plus, he looked so young when he laughed like that with all the gravity gone from his face. If nothing else, I wanted to try and protect those fleeting shreds of youth. It felt like the very least I could do.
Chapter Nine
The first exit sign marked with food, gas, and hotel logos took us to a stretch of country road that was as deserted as the highway we’d left. Whoever had once lived in the area had scattered to the four winds. I hoped they’d found someplace safe.
The roads out there had seen better days, even before the gods invaded the world. The potholes pitting the street would never get fixed now. The route led to an abandoned town—a real ghost town. We weren’t anywhere near the West, but I half expected a tumbleweed to drift in front of the truck.
Luis stirred to life, pointing through the windshield at a neon sign two intersections ahead. “Hey, check that out up there. Looks like we’re in the bustling heart of downtown.”
He was joking about the handful of faded storefronts lining the town’s main street. It was a far cry from the towering buildings in Manhattan, but this had probably been the local hot spot back when there were still locals to fill the sidewalks.
With only a few stores, our choice of supplies would be limited. On the plus side, the town was so small, no one else had bothered to come through and scavenge the place.
“Cross your fingers that we find a parking space,” I said.
Luis glanced around the empty streets and laughed. “Yeah, I guess the apocalypse has its perks.”
I grinned. “What can I say? I’m a silver lining kind of girl.”
The traffic light was still working, and I stopped as it turned red.
He shot me a look. “I guess you really are optimistic if you think there’s still anyone around to stop for.”
I shrugged. “You never know. Looks can be deceiving, kid.”
“You can call me Luis,” he said. “I stopped being a kid once I shot my first centaur.”
I laughed. “Okay, then you can call me Vic.”
I pulled up alongside what looked to be a grocery store, and we spent a minute or two peering through the front windows, scoping it out. Nothing appeared to be broken at the outset—a decent sign.
I killed the engine without bothering to pull into the parking lot on the side. Then I hopped down to size things up. A stiff wind kicked up whirls of dust along the barren street, knocking the flickering street light back and forth on its wire. The two narrow lanes were littered with general debris—plastic bags, crumpled paper, bottles, and cans from abandoned receptacles. A shopping cart skittered across the lot and bumped the curb. Luis whipped around at the sound of a bark. He watched the stray dog slink by. It was skinny, with large, wary eyes.
“You thinking of adopting that little guy?” I asked.
Luis rubbed the back of his neck, pulling at his kerchief. “I was wondering who looks hungrier. Me or the dog.”
“With any luck, we’ll find some food in here,” I said.
His dark eyes scanned the surroundings, and then he took a deep breath. “Yeah, I hope so. I’d hate to have to find out what dog meat tastes like.”
I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “Ugh, please don’t ever say anything like that again. I’ll give you my rations before I let you eat someone’s pet.”
This young man is possessed of a true warrior’s mind, Marcus declared proudly. He is meant for greatness.
I rolled my eyes. Spoken like a guy who once attempted to eat my cat on sight.
The rumble of another engine cut through the silence, and I saw Deacon and Jules approach. They looked around uneasily as they rolled up. Their truck eased to a halt behind ours, and the agent whistled as he stepped out. The car doors slamming echoed in the empty streets.
She walked around the tailgate. “This place is too spooky. It feels like the world ended while we were driving and we’re only now finding out.”
I patted her shoulder. “You’re simply a big city girl. Anything less than a thousand people on the sidewalk, and you think the place is abandoned.”
She shook her head. “I’m pretty glad there’s no one else around. Running into a bunch of gun-toting locals sounds like a bad way to start the day.”
Deacon nodded. “Yeah, we’re a little exposed out here. Who knows if there’s anyone watching? Let’s grab what we need and blow this joint.” He took stock of the other stores along the road. “There’s a hardware place and an outdoor supply store over there. Bet we can find some good camping gear. More tents, coolers, portable stoves, that kind of thing.”
“Good idea,” Jules said quickly. “I’ll come with you. Vic, you two can handle groceries, right?”
I nodded. “But if I find a bag of Doritos, I can’t promise it’ll make it back to the truck.”
“Dibs on any bear claws,” Luis said.
Deacon rolled his eyes. “Maybe you two should be on hardware duty.”
I shook my head. “No takebacks. I promise we’ll save some treats for everyone else.”
Deacon and Jules set off across the intersection, leaving Luis and me to our task. The automatic doors at the front of the store still worked, and so did the fluorescent lights overhead. Each of us grabbed a cart on our way through the entrance.
“All right,” I said. “We need stuff that’ll keep for as long as possible. That means cans, dry food, cereal, pasta. Maybe some candy for the kids.”
He grinned at me. “Yeah, right. For the kids.”
I laughed. “Well, mostly for the kids. What can I say? I fight better when I’m all hopped up on sugar. But seriously, we should try to stay away from anything that doesn’t have nutritional value as a rule of thumb. I’ll be damned if I get fucking scurvy without getting to be a pirate first.”
Luis nodded. “Aye aye, captain. We splitting up or doing this together?”
I thought of the pharmacy and how the satyr
s had all been clustered in the back. “Let’s go together. I might be paranoid, but we don’t know what’s in here yet.”
“Paranoid is good, considering the shit we’ve seen.”
All I heard was the faint hum of the standing freezers, but I knew better than to be lulled into a false sense of security.
We walked down the aisles side by side, a weird little almost-family on a shopping trip at the end of the world. Luis eyed the shelves for anything we could use. “Hey, Vic.”
“What’s up?” I asked. “You hear something?”
“No. I wanted to ask you, where’d you really get that sword?”
The question gave me pause. “What do you mean? I told you about it in the car, didn’t I?”
“Come on.” He gave me a knowing grin. “You got it from a friend who happens to be gone? That’s what I told my grandma when she found a pack of cigarettes in my dresser. They’re not mine. They’re a friend’s.”
“It’s true,” I insisted. A bewildered laugh issued from me. I hadn’t really expected him to challenge my version of the story, though now that I thought about it, maybe it did sound a little suspect. “What do you want me to say?”
“Tell me for real,” he said. “Where’d you find it? You want to build trust here, right? Well, you can trust me.” There was a definite glint of mischief in his eye, but also an open earnestness that made me want to play along, even if I thought he was being ridiculous.
I do not take back my previous compliments of his character. However, I see this boy is not yet free from the insolence of youth.
I found myself inclined to agree. “Fine, I’ll bite. A two-thousand-year-old Roman centurion fell from the sky like a meteor and handed me the mystical sword of the God-King Kronin.”
Luis laughed and shook his head. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t find it; it found me. How’s that?”
“It found you, huh?” He smiled slyly. “That cop find you, too?”
I frowned sternly at him. “Were you listening in the truck at all? I told you, Deacon’s FBI. Why do you want to know, anyway?” The embarrassment growing in my chest made me incredibly uncomfortable. It was like our roles had been reversed. I was the kid now, teased by a parent about the guy I was definitely not interested in dating.
