Daugher of Ash

by Matthew S. Cox

  “I’m not going to be your pawn.” She flopped down and pulled the sleeping bag up. “If you’re just an influence, you can’t hurt me.”

  “Yes, Kate. Go back to your precious oasis of civilization. This land belongs to all of us now, and no one else. That blue-eyed whelp invades our domain like a cancer.” Boots crunched distant behind her. “And cancer must be burned out.”

  ate paused at the near side of the bridge to watch the great Mississippi river for several minutes. The churning water mesmerized her and took her mind away from the disturbing conversation she’d had with the old man―or whatever. Her mind ran back to that first time her seven-year-old self had found water. She tangled with the nigh-irresistible urge to fling herself into the river. For so long, she had daydreamed of what it would be like to swim. If not for Esteban being less than a mile away, she might have done it. She kicked off the road and accelerated. After a minute or two of guiding the motorcycle past the barricades and wrecked vehicles, she came to a halt at the checkpoint gate.

  A startled Private Vickers jumped to her feet, staring at Kate as though she were a ghost.

  Kate pulled off a pair of wraparound sunglasses and flicked her hair back. “Afternoon, Vickers. Why so shocked?”

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” said Sergeant Alvarez. He wandered over with coffee in one hand and a pistol in the other. “You’re alive.”

  Anders jogged up to them, followed by another Hispanic man she had not yet met. Once more, Kate felt like an attraction at a sideshow. Vickers stood like a plank while Alvarez put his weapon away and sipped his drink.

  “Coffee?” Kate smiled. “It’s almost one.”

  “Never a bad time for coffee.” Alvarez waved at Vickers. “Open it.”

  “Yes, Sarge.” The woman let her rifle fall on its strap and hit a button that caused a concrete barrier wall to slide left.

  “Fancy bike,” said Anders. “Why ain’t it melting?”

  “I found what I was looking for.” Kate winked.

  “You do seem… different.” Alvarez chuckled.

  “I feel a lot better.” Kate bit her lip and held her hand out. “Hey… sorry if I was a little short with you before. Had a lot on my mind.”

  Vickers shook her head. Alvarez gave her a suspicious look. He reached a cautious hand out and tapped one finger on her palm. When he didn’t burn, he took her hand. The St. Louis Guard exchanged stares.

  After the handshake, she walked the bike in far enough for Vickers to secure the gate. “Is Esteban still here?”

  “Who?” asked Anders.

  “The mechanic who was with me when I first got here.” Kate’s heart sank at the lack of recognition.

  “Oh, him. Yes.” Vickers looked at Alvarez, who found his coffee of sudden interest. “He’s umm, in the same apartment.”

  “Thanks.” Kate chuckled at the locals thinking of a motel as housing.

  “Remember where you are,” said Vickers, gesturing at the bike. “Big city law doesn’t mean anything here.”

  They think I’m a cop? The irony proved too much to hold in and she laughed, earning a frown from the woman. “I promise not to cause trouble.”

  Alvarez sipped his coffee and waved her through.

  A twist of the handgrip sent the bike around the fortification of mobile concrete barriers, zipping into town.

  Anticipation made two turns almost-crashes; Kate caught air for a second on the way into the motel parking lot and skidded to a halt by the door marked 27. Her haste to dismount sent her staggering with the grace of a drunken ostrich until she clamped onto a support post for the awning. A handful of rough-looking prostitutes clustered in the corner left of the entrance ramp. All but one of them gave her nasty looks. Her pleasant mood didn’t allow her to waste time worrying about what people like that thought of her.

  She ignored them and ran to the door, jiggling the knob, finding it locked. For a moment, she stared helplessly at the barrier. A sad, nervous giggle slipped out of her at the realization her non-holographic clothing had usable pockets. She’d never even thought of taking a key before; where would she have put it? This is going to take getting used to.

  Kate knocked and pounded on the door, stopping at the sound of a man’s groan inside. She clutched her hands to her chest, bouncing like a girl on her birthday waiting for the cake to come out.

  With a click, the door parted a few inches. Esteban squinted at her from under the haze of unexpected consciousness. Clingy white boxer-briefs left little to her imagination. He sucked a long breath in through his nose and ran a hand up over his head to tame his hair―somewhat.

  “Esteban,” said Kate, kneading her hands in front of her chest. “It worked!”

  “Kate?” His rubbing hand became scratching fingers. “You’re, uhh… back.”

  She grinned from ear to ear. “I’m sorry it took so long; it was crazy. I missed you.”

  He slipped past the door, pulling it closed behind him and shielded his eyes from the sun. “It’s Saturday… and not even noon yet.”

  “Sorry. I left my ‘mini back in Querq.” She held up her naked left wrist, and leapt up to kiss him.

  He screamed into her mouth, his sleep-addled brain having failed to recognize the significance of the missing holo-projector. Kate squeaked as he instinctively grasped her about the armpits and pushed her away. Esteban squeezed twice, as if testing what his sense of touch seemed to be telling him―physical clothing. She put her hands on his warm chest, her momentary alarm fading back to an alluring smile.

  “I’m cured!” As the strength left his arms, she pressed herself against him. “I think I can arrange a pardon for you, but I have to become a cop… Division 0. I need to go back to Querq. I want you to come with me.”

  “Pardon? Huh? Querq?” Esteban looked her over from face to boot and back. “You’re not crisping the shit out of me.”

  “I know!” She cheered, and kissed him again.

  He chuckled. “You kiss like a little girl.”

  Red swam over her face as she glanced down. “Not like I’ve had much practice…”

  “Ugh, sorry. That was a shitty thing to say. I’m not truly awake yet.” He brushed the hair away from her eyes. “I… never thought you’d come back.”

  “I was thinking about you every day,” she said. “That silly glove you had. That was like the most romantic thing ever.”

  “The oven mitt?” He whistled. “You burned that thing.”

  Her hands slid around his chest, down his back, and into the waistband of his boxers. “Show me how to kiss?”

  What he attempted to say next degenerated into meaningless noises as their lips met; Kate mashed her face into his, attempting the best recreation of what she had watched in vids and seen other people do. As Esteban’s stiff posture began to make her feel self-conscious, a squeak from behind him drew her attention to the opening door.

  A black-haired woman, maybe a teenager, peered through the narrow gap. Her bare leg snaked around the door, one foot perched atop a blackened footprint facing into the room. Kate’s arms tightened around Esteban to keep from falling as she looked up the leg, over the hip, and into the other woman’s eyes. All she had on was the motel room door.

  “Esteban, ¿quién es ella?”

  “Kate… I’m sorry…” He slouched. “You were amazing, but… I never thought I’d be able to have anything with a woman I couldn’t even touch. It seemed so unreal, what you could do. Never in my life did I expect you would actually find a way to fix it.”

  Huge tears formed in her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

  “When they told me you’d run off into the Badlands without any weapons, I thought you were trying to kill yourself. I got very drunk that night.” He put an arm around her, the embrace of a friend rather than a lover. “I can’t find the words to say how glad I am you are alive.”

  “Esteban, ¿quién es ella?” whispered the girl in the door.

  “Un amiga,” he muttered over his shoulder. “
Guardia de la caravana.”

  Kate sniffled. “That’s all I am? Only a friend?”

  She offered no resistance as he pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry, Kate. It’s my fault. Sometimes I can’t turn it off. I wasn’t trying to get into your pants, just… we survived some bad shit and you seemed so lonely. I was trying to make your life not suck so much.”

  “I didn’t even have pants then,” she mumbled. Despite the sense of betrayal and anger, she held on. “I’m twenty-five and I’ve never even held hands with a boy.” An eerie laugh belted out of her; the other girl leapt back and slammed the door. “The most contact I’ve had is a pack of ghouls trying to eat me. Last night, I dreamed about when you fed me on the truck. I’ve never been that happy before.” She wanted to giggle at the memory, but it made her cry harder.

  “I was at Stephanie’s, trying to drink away the guilt. I thought you’d run off because you woke up alone. You should’ve told me you were going. Mariana saw me and tried to cheer me up.”

  “I’ll bet she did.” Kate pulled away, crossing her arms and taking a few steps to the side.

  “It’s not like that.” He held his hands up for a moment. “You were unbelievable, scary, unknown, and a little crazy. I’d never met anyone even close to that.”

  She smirked, not that he could see it.

  “We’d only known each other for what, twelve hours? Almost got killed together… Nothing that happens can break the bond that forms between people who share an experience like that. We’ll always have a connection. I’m sorry I assumed you were running off to die.”

  Kate sniffled.

  “Esteban?” asked a mousy voice.

  Mariana peered again from the room, having put on one of his shirts, which hung down to her thighs. She reached through the doorway to hand him a pair of dark pants. She was pretty in a girl-next-door sort of way that made Kate feel conspicuous. Even if she hadn’t been 700 degrees, she had the kind of looks that would’ve made her seem unattainable. As Esteban pulled the jeans on, the girl flashed an accusatory, territorial glare at her.

  Kate snarled; her clawed hand ensconced with the sudden presence of an azure fireball. “What are you looking at, bitch?”

  “Eeeeeeeee! Tu eres una diabla!” The girl flung the door closed.

  Esteban leapt in front of the door, hands up. “Whoa…”

  Several thuds preceded the clap of the bathroom door slamming, followed by something metal clattering into the bathtub―her bathtub. Kate let the fireball go out; her arm fell limp. The prostitutes on the other side of the motel parking lot muttered amongst themselves, glaring at her. One laughed. She whirled on them.

  “If you’re the best this town’s got, no wonder the goats here run so damn fast.”

  Her shriek echoed over stunned silence. Esteban cringed.

  An emaciated woman gave her the finger. “Fuck off, city bitch! No one here likes plastic. How much did those tits cost?”

  “Probably a damn Maya doll,” said the woman next to her. “No one’s that fuckin’ perfect.” She tugged at a strained purple mini-dress that would’ve been snug on Kate, into which she’d stuffed a fortyish ‘six kids and counting’ body.

  Flames covered both of Kate’s arms. She started stomping toward them, but Esteban grabbed her shoulders.

  “What?” shouted Kate. “Say that again, you dried up old hag. I didn’t hear you.”

  They scattered, running for cover. Two ducked into a room, one ran down the ramp to the street, and one crawled under a parked truck. Three male prostitutes continued leaning on the wall, trying not to look as amused as they seemed to be.

  She let the fire fade. There’s my rage, right where I left it.

  Mariana screamed for Esteban from inside the bathroom.

  “I wasn’t going to hurt her. Just a scare.” Her voice trailed to a whisper. “She has no right to give me that face; I was with you first.”

  Esteban cast a worried look at the door. “I think you succeeded. Look, let me get dressed and we can go talk and sort things out.”

  “What’s to sort out?” Kate stuffed her hands in her pants pockets. Her next words died at the tip of her brain. She looked down, realizing she’d just stuffed her hands in real pockets. Something she’d wanted to do for years.

  “When the militia told me you left, I never thought I’d see you again.”

  “You found a normal girl without all the bullshit I’m carrying around. You’re right; I’m dangerous to be with. Maybe I’ll get pissed off during an argument and burn you before I can control myself.” She kicked one boot at the sidewalk. “I do seem to have anger issues.”

  “Kate, I’m sorry.” He put a hand on her shoulder.

  She didn’t move as his contact became an arm around the back and another hug. “Stop saying you’re sorry. I’m not mad at you. I was surprised you didn’t run away from me screaming. I shouldn’t have mistaken your being nice for love. I was so… desperate.”

  “You’re so beautiful it hurts.” He released the embrace. “I…”

  “Don’t remind me.” She walked to the bike. “The lab coats believed looks could kill. I suppose I’m proof that they can.”

  Esteban jogged over and held onto the handlebars as she got on. “Don’t race off and do something stupid.”

  “You deserve someone normal.” She pulled sunglasses out of her jacket and studied the daylight glint on them. “It was silly of me to think we’d fallen in love in twelve hours. Combat stress.” Sunglasses on, Kate chuckled. “I hope you find a happy life here.”

  He let go of the bike when she powered it up. “Promise me you’ll be okay? You probably won’t believe me, but I would hate to see you hurt. I’m an idiot; I should have trusted―”

  “Stop.” Kate let her head sag. “If I was normal and saw someone like I used to be, I’d have run screaming. Thank you for being nice. It’s not your fault.” She pushed off, letting the bike roll backward in a quarter-circle turn. “I need to figure out who I am. I guess we’ll always have that night.”

  “We will.” He leaned against an awning post. “We will.”

  She drove out of the motel lot before the tears trapped by the sunglasses against her cheek spilled out. A collision of anger, guilt, and sadness left her stranded on an emotional island amid a sea of nothing.

  Perhaps because Esteban had mentioned the place, or perhaps randomness led Kate to park in front of the building with ‘Stephanie’s’ written in paint across a wide patch of windowless brick. A string of painted flowers, added by the hand of a child, weaved among the letters.

  Walking on autopilot, Kate stumbled into a room full of tables and the scent of fried chicken. She stalled as soon as the aroma reached her, covering her face in both hands, ready to flee from the memories it triggered. A tired-looking, but happy woman with short, reddish hair waved at her from behind a counter on her way to bring food to a booth table where four young girls sat in a giggling cluster.

  Kate took a seat on one of the stools and glanced through the kitchen to a hallway full of scattered toys, broken electronics, and the echoing voices of more children, mostly boys, playing in a yard out back. The woman spent a moment fussing over the girls; they all called her Mom despite little if any resemblance. Curiosity led Kate to eavesdrop upon her surface thoughts. She’d taken them in at various points over the years. Her husband’s rifle had spared one or two of them horrible situations. She loved them as though they were her own blood, and, as far as she was concerned, they were. Kate closed her eyes, battling jealousy that she had to fend for herself. She thought of El Tío and wondered if Stephanie would ask her children to kill for her when they got older.

  The utter ridiculousness of the thought made her laugh.

  “Walter, no!” shouted a boy in the rear hall.

  The bleat of an inquisitive goat protesting his exile from the building filled the air. The black and white spotted animal ignored the extreme effort on the part of a scrawny eight-year-old trying to pull a l
eash. Battered sneakers, no doubt on their third or fourth stop along the hand-me-down path, squeaked together as the animal dragged him toward a door. The boy’s face formed a mask of determination in spite of overwhelming failure.

  “Hi there, hon,” said Stephanie. She started to lean on the counter, but turned when Kate pointed at the war in the back.

  “Mom!” yelled the boy. “Walter’s not listening.”

  Kate folded her arms over the counter and put her head down, tired from the ride and drained from losing Esteban. Stupid, Kate. You knew him for less than two days. Impulsive. Since when have I been that desperate? The fragrance of actual wood in the tiny space between her face and the counter distracted her. Enamored by the novelty of touching things like a normal person, her thoughts spun in random circles as she ran her hand over the texture.

  When Stephanie tapped the counter nearby, Kate jumped up.

  “Sorry, Miss. What can I get for you?”

  “Oh, shit. I left my ‘mini at…” Kate raked both hands through her hair and squeezed the back of her neck. “Damn. You have somewhere I could sleep? I could help with like, dishes or something?”

  “You have a NetMini?” Stephanie pulled an old machine out from under the counter, as big as a pre holo-terminal computer. The battered thing had several missing panels, exposed wires and circuit boards… but its flat-panel screen still worked. “You can use this to log in if you have your PID memorized.” She patted it. “Satellite.”

  “Okay.” Kate tugged it closer, finding the almost seven second load time between screens intolerable. Much to her surprise, the connection back to the GlobeNet worked. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a physical screen before. How much for dinner and a bed?”

  Stephanie un-leaned from the counter. “What’ll you have?”

  “Anything but fried chicken.”

  ate squatted at the side of an old-fashioned porcelain bathtub, tracing her fingers across the surface of the frigid water. The sound of playing children outside made her smile at the same time it sparked a twinge of jealousy. She closed her eyes and concentrated on heat. Once the water spawned tiny whorls of steam along the surface, she stood, stepped over the edge, and lowered herself in.