Travelers

by Alia Hess

  Trav nodded. He leaned forward and cracked open the door. Cold wind whipped through the room, kicking papers into a frenzy.

  Owl brushed crumpled newspaper pages off her leg. “I don’t suppose you’d consider taking things at a snail’s pace? That’s probably the best I can do.”

  “Why not? I’m traveling with you because I like you. Not to get in your pants. Nothing needs to change. I’ll keep enjoying your company until we get to Cadestown, and then—if you want—we can go somewhere else together too. And if you want the occasional hug or hand-hold along the way, it would just be a pleasant bonus.”

  She shook her head. “How are you so nice?”

  “You’ve never been with a nice guy before?”

  “I don’t think my judgement is very good. Either that, or I pick them on purpose because I don’t think I deserve anything better.”

  “You do deserve better.” He brushed an errant lock of hair from her eyes, then grazed his fingers over the scars peppering her forehead. She stroked his jaw and kissed him, softly tasting his lips. When she sat back, a small smile hung on her face.

  “So are you going to write about this later? In your notebook? ‘Dear Diary, today I kissed Trav and it was the most glorious thing ever.’”

  Owl elbowed him. “No. It will sound like this: ‘November eighteenth—Trav is too cheeky for his own good.’”

  He laughed, blue eyes crinkling. “Accurate. …I want to take you somewhere tomorrow, before we get to Cadestown. I remember where it is because there’s a crashed airplane close by, and it’s very easy to see from the road. It’s a bit of a deviation from our route, but I think it will be worth it. What do you think?”

  “Sure.” Owl shrugged. “I’m not in any hurry. I still have some mealcakes and water left. And we’ll probably find something to kill between here and Cadestown. I’d rather not eat another seagull, though. They taste like trash.”

  “Yeah, they do.”

  She scooted closer to Trav and he put an arm around her. Her head rose and fell with his chest’s rhythm. Thunder rumbled above them and the rain fell in a raging staccato.

  This is what comfort feels like.

  Hazy white lights studded the bizarre structure in the distance. It sat back from the road, flanked by jagged sepia hills. A large dome rose from the center and the remnants of an airplane wing sat askew on one side. Cars and buses littered the area.

  Trav regarded the configuration with a creased face. “This is the airplane—I’m sure of it, but…”

  “Looks like someone turned it into something else.”

  “It does. It has been a long time since I’ve been this way. Anyway, come on.”

  They walked a short way until reaching a large hill with craggy, protruding rocks and deep holes in the surface. A cave at the hill’s base hung open like a slack jaw. He pointed to it. “This is it.”

  “You must have a really good memory for direction. There’s no way I would remember that something like this was here.”

  “You will after you see this.”

  They passed overhanging rocks, clammy darkness enveloping them. Owl pulled her sun-warmed cloak around her toward off the chill. Trav lit a candle and the orange glow bounced off the rough walls, throwing shadows in all directions.

  “We have to go back a bit.” His gentle voice echoed in the enclosed space.

  They walked through the spacious room to a narrow slit in the wall. Owl squeezed in behind Trav, sliding her way along the rough gap until the room opened up again. She gasped. The candle’s light reflected off thousands of large crystals encrusting the chamber walls. The ice-like points projected in every direction. Candlelight danced off the facets. Glinting. Sparkling.

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  “I have no words for how beautiful this is. I just want to take a whole wall and hang it around my neck.” The sharp crystals teased her skin as she ran her fingers along them. “Thank you for taking me here.”

  “You’re welcome. It was really windy the first time I arrived in this area, and dust was blowing everywhere. I ducked into this cave for shelter and discovered this hidden chamber. I think I spent an hour just staring at the walls. Smoking scorpion leaf probably had something to do with that too.” He chuckled and plucked a dislodged crystal from the ground, handing it to Owl.

  Tiny filaments threaded through the clear shard, shimmering as she held it near the flame. Trav’s eyes locked with hers, and their gaze held for an eternity.

  She swallowed. “You want to kiss me.”

  “I won’t.”

  I hate myself. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “You know that’s not true. Do you regret our kisses yesterday?”

  “No.”

  “Then we don’t have a problem.” He smiled. “It’s kind of cold in here. You wanna go?”

  They picked up their belongings and left the cave. Owl shielded her eyes from the harsh sun, a frown on her face.

  I was fine kissing him yesterday, sitting there high and freezing cold in a dirty gas station. And now he takes me to this beautiful place—this perfect place—and I ruin it.

  “Do you want to get a better look at this place before we keep walking to Cadestown?” Trav gestured to the weird metal structure that still sort of resembled an airplane.

  She shrugged and nodded, stuffing her hands in her pockets. They veered off course, walking toward the airplane-town. Large rusty spikes protruded from the massive metallic dome that occupied the center. Human and animal skulls hung on some of the stakes. From the askew wing dangled wire, bone, and string light garlands.

  Owl took a step closer to Trav. “You know, now that we’re right up on this place, it doesn’t look very nice.”

  “No.” He craned his neck at the airplane wing and squinted. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They headed back for the road, walking through a maze of buses and trucks with crumpled front ends and smashed windows. A man sat outside one, smoking a cigarette, and a chained dog barked viciously as they neared. The smoking man looked up. He wore goggles with bug-eyed lenses, his matted hair hanging in tangled locks down his back. Thick red scabs covered his knuckles on both hands.

  “What the hell kind of coconut are you?” The man flicked his cigarette into the dirt. “Didn’t know they came in white. Either way, your kind ain’t welcome here. As much as I’m sure the people in Fighttown would love to beat your ass, you wouldn’t make it past the front gate.”

  Trav gripped Owl’s shoulders and hurried her past the bus. The smoking man stood, following them. He circled in front of them and gave Owl and exaggerated onceover. Her breath quickened and she reached for her machete. “You know, you don’t gotta leave, sugar-tits.”

  “Shut your face.” Trav growled, gripping Owl tighter. He hefted his hatchet. “Or I’ll crack your skull open like an egg.”

  The scrawny man displayed a near-toothless smile, hands in his pockets. “Don’t you mean like a coconut?” He poked Owl in the sternum and she let out an involuntary whimper. “C’mon, baby—”

  Trav jerked out a hand and grabbed the man by his ragged shirt collar, then slammed him into the dirt. The man laughed, propping himself up on his elbows.

  Trav loomed over him, nostrils flaring. “I’m gonna swing this axe, and you’ll wake up in Hell before you even feel it.”

  Oh my. The sick sensation of the man’s jab to her chest faded as Trav brandished his hatchet. A rapid-fire series of emotions coursed through her: relief, admiration, attraction, lust, confusion, fear.

  The degenerate’s grin disintegrated. He put up his hands. “Okay. Okay. You win, island-man.”

  Trav broke his gaze and turned away, Owl by his side. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  They kept a hurried pace to the road. How many people were lured to that place by the electricity, thinking it was a new trade hub, maybe with cheaper goods than Cadestow
n? It wasn’t until she and Trav were right upon that it looked unsettling. They were lucky they only encountered one creep back there. What if there had been a whole gang?

  I don’t even want to imagine what the inside of that place looks like.

  Trav’s hatchet still hung in his hand. He glanced toward the smattering of broken vehicles behind them. “I don’t think going over there was the greatest idea. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  The fading adrenaline coursing through her surged again as she twisted her fingers into Trav’s dingy white shirt collar, much as he had done to her accoster. She pulled him forward, standing on her toes, and planted a hard kiss on his mouth.

  Trav put a hand to his lips, stunned. “What was that?”

  “It’s just… seeing you protect me like that. I don’t know. That turned me on way more than it should have.”

  Trav’s eyebrows didn’t look like they could go any higher. “Uh… You want me to find him again?”

  “No! C’mon, let’s go.”

  6 ~ Cadestown ~

  The next evening, the lights of Cadestown glowed in the distance like a piece of the night sky fallen to Earth. The city spread out on either side of the cracked asphalt road for several miles. A caravan line traveled ahead of them, boofalope shambling along with their chalets.

  “I am ready for that Travelers’ House.” Owl shifted her pack on her tired shoulders.

  “Me too. I was thinking we could get separate rooms, next to each other. That way you can have some privacy away from me for once. And then, later, if you want to come to my room, it would be right next door…”

  Owl cocked an eyebrow. “Come to your room later?”

  “Not like that.” Trav gave her a sidelong glance. “Just to talk or what-not. …I don’t suppose you’d want to have dinner with me? I mean, at a table, like the civilized people do?”

  “Sure. That sounds nice.”

  “Maybe a drink, after?”

  “Maybe.” Owl smirked. “You’re cute when you blush.”

  “I’m not blushing.” Trav face grew even pinker, and Owl laughed. He fumbled with a cloak pocket, retrieving something.

  “I got you this.”

  She took the little teddy bear from his outstretched hand and smiled, rubbing at a scuff of missing fur on its face. “Thank you. Where’d you get it?”

  “In one of those houses we checked out yesterday. I just… saw it and thought of you.”

  “If you don’t stop blushing you’re going to look like a tomato in a second.” She nudged him. “So you had this bouncing around in your pack with all that other weird stuff you picked up? Pocket watch, those fancy earrings, candles, that gun. Are you going to sell that?”

  “The gun? Yeah. I thought maybe we could keep it, but there’s something wrong with it—doesn’t look like it would fire correctly. I don’t know enough about them to fix it. Besides, they make me nervous, and I’d rather rely on my hatchet and sling.”

  Owl nodded, then hooked the little bear into her pant loop. She gave Trav another small smile. Voices and the jangling of chalets and merchandise floated past as they side-stepped clusters of caravans and travelers, nearing the city.

  Trav stopped for a moment, pulling a scarf from his pack. He tied it around his face, concealing his nose and mouth, then pulled up his hood and tucked in his braid. She didn’t need to ask why.

  Cadestown—trading mecca of the Northwest. The city was a churning sea of people. The marketplace spilled out the front gate, throngs of travelers and traders pushing, jostling, bumping, shouting. People milled about in a kaleidoscope of outfits—helmets, spikes, rags, turbans, shrouds. Caged birds screeched, boofalope lowed, children laughed. Owl cringed. Every brush against her was an offense. She kept a hand hooked into Trav’s cloak sleeve to keep from being separated.

  Eventually, the crowd thinned as they reached a deeper area of town beyond the market. They passed buildings with crude, hand-painted signs: Pokey’s Eatery, Last Stand Armory, The Dead Wolf Bar. They finally stopped before a huge building with a carved sign, reading: Cadestown Travelers’ House.

  Red rugs spread across the cozy, wood-planked lobby. A woman at the front desk checked in a line of guests. When it was their turn, they approached the desk and the clerk said, “Welcome to the Travelers’ House. Are you together?”

  Trav adjusted his scarf. “We’d like two rooms, next to each other, if possible.”

  “Which packages?” The woman gestured to a large sign on the wall displaying prices for guest rooms, showers, laundry service, haircuts, and a host of other things, as well as package rates. Owl scanned the sign’s scrawled writing.

  She shrugged. “Basic Package is great for me.”

  “Me too.”

  The woman wrote something down in a large ledger. “The only rooms we have next to each other are at the other end of the House. Is that okay?”

  Trav nodded. He pawed through his bag and pulled out a handful of thin, metal coins.

  “One hundred tins, please.”

  Owl dug into her pocket for tins, but Trav pushed her hand away and paid. The clerk put his coins in a metal box and gave Trav two keys hung with large wooden tags and two paper dinner vouchers. “You’re in fifty-six and fifty-seven. Enjoy.”

  They headed down a side hallway, passing many rooms with numbered doors. Laundry hung from the doorknobs of quite a few. The sight and smell of the fresh clothing transported her to the past. Working as a laundress at the Waterton Travelers’ House had been her only refuge from Adam. She hadn’t even cared that he snatched up her paychecks before she got to use them. She was just happy to be somewhere other than their house.

  They reached fifty-six and unlocked the door. A patchwork quilt enveloped the stocky wooden bedframe, and a metal bar for hanging traveling items jutted from one wall. It would be wonderful to take a shower.

  “I’ll be in this one.” Trav gestured to the room next door. “Let me know when you want to go eat. I’m starving.”

  “I’m going to take a shower, and then I’ll be ready.”

  Her filthy clothes went into a laundry bag hanging in the bathroom. She donned a robe, then opened the outer door and hung the bag outside. Trav had done the same.

  Owl entered the bathroom and stepped into the curved, corrugated metal shower stall. The water—hot water—soothed her sore muscles and relaxed her mind. When she was done, she put the robe back on and combed her hair. Her pack held many items, and it took her a minute to find the lipstick she’d purchased from a caravan. The last day she wore any was her wedding day. After that, Adam told her she wasn’t available anymore, so she didn’t need to be “advertising” with lipstick. She scowled into the mirror, gliding the bright red over her lips.

  She used a small brush to draw a line of eyeblack along her lids. Wearing it was unnecessary in town, but today it served a different purpose. Tilting her face from side to side, Owl smiled. She looked pretty good, almost like her old self—her old, old self—the carefree and flirty single farmer. She wasn’t her anymore, though, and never would be again. She was someone else now.

  Owl rubbed the raised scars on her forehead. I should have bought some complexion cake from that caravan too. She wore it quite a bit during those final months with Adam. It couldn’t cover a cut or black eye completely, but it helped.

  Doesn’t matter. Trav already knows about my scars. And he doesn’t mind. She smiled at her reflection.

  As she stood before Trav’s door, a tangle of nerves snatched at her stomach. She knocked. After a moment, Trav answered; a clean black tee shirt clung to his muscular torso, and his hair fell down his back in a tight, damp braid. Seeing him without his ragged cloak, eyeblack, and the dirt and grime, was almost like seeing him naked.

  “Wow.” He gave her a toothy grin. “You look beautiful.”

  Her cheeks burned. “Thanks. You look pretty great yourself. You don’t need to hide your face?”

  Trav sighed. “I don’t know. There aren’t as
many people in here as there were in the market. I kind of just want to have a nice meal without having to wear a hood and scarf.”

  Owl frowned and nodded.

  They walked down the hallway, entering the House’s small restaurant. A bar with a large wooden counter top sat to the right, and small tables scattered the room. They took a corner booth, and a waiter came over immediately.

  “Hello. I’m Bill.” He handed them a couple of machine-typed menus. “Can I get you something to drink while you make your selections?”

  “Uh, I’ll have a glass of moonshine,” Owl said.

  “Two, please.”

  “No problem. I’ll be right back.” Bill scooted away.

  Other than several tables with weather-beaten travelers—their faces sporting deep tans and wrinkles—the restaurant was empty.

  “For as busy as this city is, there aren’t that many people in here right now.”

  Trav looked at his menu. “I think a lot of them just camp outside of town. If you weren’t with me, that’s what I would have done.”

  “Oh. Well, we didn’t have to come here just because I suggested it.”

  “Actually, I had already planned on coming here once you invited me to walk with you to Cadestown. I figured it would be hard to impress you with my ugly mug, so… Here I could take a shower so I didn’t stink anymore, buy you dinner, buy you a lot of booze until I started to look good…”

  Owl laughed. “Plotting to win me over even back then, huh?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t really have any expectations. Especially, well, no offense, but especially from a Mainlander.”

  Bill walked back to the table with two large mugs of moonshine. They hit the table with a heavy thud.

  After ordering her food and taking some sips of potent liquor, Owl stood. “I’m going to go use the restroom.” She headed for a wooden sign near the kitchen.

  “Psst!”

  She turned; their waiter leaned against the wall, beckoning to her. Puzzled, she walked over.

  “Yeah?”