“Storm comin’,” said Derek.
“Yup. And it looks like it’s gonna be a rager. Too bad there ain’t shit for shelter.”
“What do we do?” asked John, looking worriedly around at the flat, featureless landscape.
“Get wet,” said Leggy.
“Don’t think I’d mind,” said Magdalena. “It’d be the nearest thing I’ve had to a bath in too many days.”
By two o’clock the sky had turned dark, and a harsh wind kicked up across the dirty, dry valley floor, throwing sand into the faces of the travelers. Sheba whined.
Samuel looked around nervously. “What’s going to happen?” he asked, his voice tight and high.
“Just a storm,” said John. “A little rain, maybe some thunder an’ lightning. Ain’t you ever been in a storm before?”
“No,” said Samuel. “They only ever took me outside twice and never in the rain.” He reached up and took Teddy’s hand.
“Well, here’s your chance,” said Leggy. He pointed to a bank of thunderheads rapidly approaching from the west, dark and swollen. The wind grew stronger, tugging at his hair and beard. “Help me off this donkey, Ted. He’s getting skittish, and I don’t want to get thrown.”
Teddy, who looked as frightened as Samuel, helped Leggy off the donkey. Derek scanned the desert and highway all around them. Not even an old car to hunker in.
A thunderclap suddenly exploded behind them. Teddy shrieked.
“Easy there, Ted,” said Leggy. “You just hold onto these reins. Don’t let our mules go runnin’ off.”
Teddy nodded. He tightened his grip on the leather straps, his lower lip trembling.
There was another clap of thunder, closer than the first, and a fork of lighting stabbed down out of the sky. White light popped in their eyeballs and illuminated the grim landscape. The dark clouds raced toward them. Now they could hear the hiss of rain. A shrill wind whipped over them.
“Here it comes,” shouted Leggy, and then it was on them.
Sheets of rain hammered the travelers, soaking them instantly. Thunder exploded over their heads. Samuel cringed against Magdalena’s leg. His cries of fear drowned in the drumline of falling water.
Another thunderclap and another stab of lighting, so near that they could smell ozone. The mules’ eyes were wide with fear. They strained against their reins, ready to bolt. Teddy held them fast, his own fear adding to his strength.
The rain fell as a solid curtain now, obscuring their vision. John groped blindly for Magdalena’s hand and clung to her as if she might get swept away by the torrent of water.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The clouds raced ahead, sweeping aside the veil of rain. The sun emerged, making them squint. The blacktop beneath their feet steamed, and they sputtered and gasped in the aftermath of torrential downpour.
“Shit,” said Derek, “I thought I was gonna drown standing up.”
Leggy laughed. “You look like you did drown. Hell, we all do.”
Indeed, they were bedraggled with water, dripping where they stood. John pulled off his shirt and twisted it up, and everyone cackled at the amount of water he wrung from it. Sheba shook herself vigorously, dousing the group in a fine spray of dog water and making Samuel giggle. Only the mules didn’t look amused. Their ears were back and they stamped impatiently at the road.
Leggy screwed the lids onto several plastic jugs that he had fitted with funnels. “While the rest a’ you’s were gawkin’ and trembling, old Leggy took the opportunity to replenish our water supply. In the desert, you never waste a chance to collect rainwater. That’s lesson…well, let’s start fresh and call it lesson one.” The old man winked good-naturedly.
“Well, now what?” asked Derek. “Should we make camp and dry off or keep goin’?”
“I say we keep goin’,” said Leggy. “Take a look around. Ain’t a dry place to sit, and there won’t be for awhile. Me, I’d rather dry off walkin’ than sit in a puddle.”
The valley floor was a muddy mess, and water had collected in shallow pools all along the blasted highway. So they pressed on, wringing out their clothes and hair as they walked.
They soon came to another gully. The bridge across was still intact. Lucky for them because the gully was alive with floodwater, dirty rapids that raced through the bed, too high and swift to be forded.
As they reached the other side of the bridge, Afha suddenly pulled to a halt. Teddy yanked at the reins, but the animal wouldn’t budge.
“Now what?” asked Derek.
“He don’t wanna go, Der-Der,” said Teddy.
“Give him a nudge there, Leggy,” said Derek.
Leggy prodded the beast with his stumps, but without effect.
“Aw, what the Hell,” said Derek. He grabbed the reins from Teddy and gave them a shake. “Listen, you stupid fleabag, if you don’t get a move on you’re gonna end up dog food.”
Afha brayed once, the milky cataract in his third eye swirling, but he would not be moved.
“He’s scared,” said Samuel, who was holding Teddy’s hand.
“Scared? Of what?”
“Bugs,” said Samuel.
“Course he’s scared of bugs,” Derek said. “Everybody’s scared a bugs. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“He says there’s a nest up ahead,” said Samuel. “It sounds awful.”
“He says?” asked Derek. He reached down and grabbed Samuel’s chin, forcing the boy to look into his eyes. “I’m in no mood for kiddy games.”
Samuel winced, his face pale with fear. “I’m not playing a game. I can see his thoughts.”
“You what?” asked Derek, squeezing harder.
“I can see his thoughts. Please stop, that hurts.”
“Let him go, Derek,” said John.
Derek released Samuel’s chin, but continued to hold his gaze. “Mules don’t think.”
“Yes, they do. Not like you and me. But they do have thoughts. Especially Afha.”
“And you can hear them? Boy, you’re a dirty little liar. I ought to chuck you off this bridge.”
“Wait,” said Leggy. “Maybe there’s something to this. Remember back up in the Sierras, just before we came across Magdalena? Afha pulled up short just like he is now. Wouldn’t budge. And then John got bit by a snake.”
“Holy Christ,” said Derek. “You really think this donkey and this kid are some kinda…mind readers? Tell ya what, everybody stand back. Samuel and Afha are gonna lead the way. Onward to New York, fellas.”
Leggy shrugged. He hadn’t told them everything about his first encounter with Samuel because he still wasn’t sure he believed it himself, but certainly there was something going on with this boy.
“Afha is a mutie,” said John. “Maybe that’s got somethin’ to do with it.”
“Yes,” said Magdalena. “All animals have heightened senses. Like hawks that can spy a mouse in the grass from a great height. Or my sheep, who will smell a bear a mile away. Maybe this donkey has a sense for danger.”
“There’s one way to find out,” said Leggy.
John turned pale. “You mean walk into the nest, if it’s there?”
“Hell no, John. Don’t be stupid. Derek, you still got that spyglass from the Bedouins?”
Derek rummaged through his sack and produced the telescope. He extended it to its full length and put it to his eye. He slowly swept the horizon.
“Ain’t nothing...ain’t nothin’ for miles and m…wait a minute. Ah, shit.”
He gave the spyglass to Leggy. Leggy peered through the eyepiece, aiming the glass in the direction Derek pointed. At first he saw nothing, but then detected movement in the distance. Black shapes scurried on the ground.
“There’s somethin’ there, all right. An
d right in our path,” Leggy said.
“But if it’s bugs, why would they be stirrin’, unless they caught somethin’?” asked John.
Leggy returned the spyglass. “I bet the rain drove ’em out. Maybe the nest got flooded.”
“Fuck,” said Derek, taking another look. “They’re right in our road.” He closed the spyglass and put it back into his pack. “So now what?”
Leggy shrugged. “I guess we go around.”
They stepped off the road and began trudging southward through the mud. It sucked at their boots and splashed up onto their legs.
Magdalena shook her head ruefully. “So much for being clean.”
“I’d rather be dirty than eaten,” said Derek.
They tramped south, using Afha as a sort of rough compass to define the perimeter of the nest. Every so often they tried to steer him back east, but each time he resisted. Finally, after several miles Afha allowed himself to be turned.
Though they could still see shallow pools glinting in the afternoon light, the desert valley was greedily absorbing the rainfall. The mud transformed into a dirty yellow paste and the ground grew firmer beneath their feet.
As they walked, Derek turned his attention to Samuel. “Now what’s all this bullshit about mind reading?”
“It’s true,” said Samuel. “It’s just something I’ve always been able to do. Karen says I was born that way.”
“So you can look inside my head?” asked Derek.
“Yes, if I wanted to.” Samuel turned his eyes down to the ground.
“Okay, what number am I—”
“Seven,” said Samuel.
“Lucky guess. Now what number?”
Two thousand four hundred and eleven.”
“Fuck me,” said Derek. “He’s right.”
“Can you do that with everybody? All of us here?” asked Leggy.
“Yes,” said Samuel.
“Now do me,” shouted Teddy. “What’s Teddy thinking?” He squeezed his eyes shut and furrowed his brow.
Samuel smiled. “You’re thinking about peanut butter. Your dad bought some off a trader from the coast, a long time ago. That was the first and last time you ever tasted it.”
“Mmmm,” said Teddy with a smile, his eyes still closed. “Peanut buttteeeeeerrr.”
“I don’t like it,” said Derek. “What’s in my head is mine. Private. Travelin’ with you is like travelin’ with a thief. I’ll never know when you’re rifflin’ through my gear.”
“That’s not true,” said Samuel. “It’s easy to read thoughts if you project them to me, like you did with the numbers. The doctors said it was like someone throwing me a ball—I can just catch the thought. Then there’s the other way. I can go into your mind, like going into a house. And you’d feel that.”
“What…what’s it feel like?” asked Leggy.
Samuel peered up at him. Leggy felt a hot point on the inside of his skull, and a strange dizzying sensation, as if he’d been swept up by a wind high into the air and then dropped. He wobbled a bit, and then the heat and the vertigo vanished. Suddenly his stomach took a flip—he turned and vomited on the side of the road.
“He’s right,” said Leggy, gasping and wiping his mouth. “It’s awful.”
They trudged for a time in silence, before Derek finally spoke. “I still don’t like it. This is mutie behavior. It makes me nervous.”
“I don’t see that we’ve got much choice,” said Leggy.
“Sure we do,” said Derek. “We can send him packing.”
“What, out here?” asked John.
“That’d be murder,” said Magdalena.
“Maybe not,” said Derek. “He’s a resourceful little shit. He can read minds.” To Samuel, he said, “You could make it back to your bunker, I’ll wager.”
Samuel looked scared. “Please,” he said, his voice tight with fear. “Don’t leave me. I promise I’ll be good. I promise I’ll never go into your minds. Please.”
Derek looked around at the others. He sucked his teeth and then spit into the dirt. “You just stay away from me, kid. Stay out of my way. Stay out of my head. And if I catch you playin’ any mutie tricks….” He fingered his knife.
Samuel, clearly terrified, nodded his agreement and tried his best to disappear behind Teddy’s enormous calf.
***
They moved on, continuing to use Afha to gauge the perimeter of the bugs’ domain. The group was back on the blacktop by nightfall. They walked until the moon was riding high in the clear night and then made camp. There was little talk, and, after eating, they rolled into their blankets and closed their eyes.
Samuel, who had curled up with Sheba, gazed at the stars. He hadn’t told them about the third way of reading thoughts—how easy it was to probe deeply into a mind when the person slept, how they would be completely unaware of it happening. He had probed all of them over the past couple of nights, peering deeply into their psyches. He knew it was a bad thing. Karen had warned him against it, but he had to. They were strangers, and he had to protect himself. And he was curious.
All of them had scars and wounds in their psyches, and bad things in their minds, bad things they’d done that they didn’t want anyone to know. So Samuel would keep their secrets. He was good at keeping secrets.
But Derek—he was different. His psyche wasn’t just scarred, it was twisted. He was the dangerous one. His threat with the knife had been real. Samuel vowed to go quietly around him, like a mouse around a cat. But if Derek ever threatened him again, Samuel would protect himself. He’d burst Derek’s brain like a rotten grapefruit.
Chapter Twenty-Four
In the morning they woke to a desert bloom. Sage and gorse brush, invigorated by the rains of the previous day, opened shoots of green and gold. Cactus flowers perched among the spines in full blossom, pink and bold in the morning sun. Wildflowers, hidden beneath the hard ground, emerged and unfolded in a dazzling carpet of yellows and reds and oranges. It was as if a magician had passed in the night, transforming the dry wastes into a desert garden.
“Beautiful, ain’t it?” said Leggy. “Worth a little wettin’, I’d say. It’s a shame you can’t see it, Missy.”
John plucked a cactus flower and stroked Magdalena’s cheek with it. She took the bloom in her hand and inhaled its fragrance.
“It’s amazing to think that anything could live here,” she said.
“We’re livin’ here,” said Derek. “And I expect if we want to keep livin’ we should hit the road.”
After a quick meal they broke camp and continued east, following the highway. They had gone less than a mile when Teddy poked his brother.
“Look, Der-Der. Somethin’ shiny up ahead.”
Derek, who’d been watching his feet, his mind lost in thought, looked toward the horizon. Teddy was right. The sun glinted off something, sending up shards of light like a beacon. They were too far away to make out what it could be, or how big. Derek took out his spyglass and peered through it, but the land ahead dipped into a slight valley, hiding whatever was catching the sun.
“You see what it is?” asked Leggy.
“Nope,” said Derek. “I expect we’ll run into it soon enough, though.”
Derek glanced at Afha. The donkey was calm. Derek didn’t believe that the beast could sense bugs, or trouble, or anything besides a patch of sage grass—the creature hadn’t sensed the mutie in the basement, and had given no warning of the menace of Youslus; but nevertheless, he felt reassured by the beast’s calm.
So they plodded on, and waited to see what the road would bring them.
***
It was a house made almost entirely of glass—magnificent silver beams held the panes together. The sun reflected off the crystal, throwing rays in all directions, obscuring the ho
use and preventing anyone from looking directly at it.
“Why dat house made of glass, Der?” Teddy chewed nervously on his lower lip. For someone who’d spent his life fighting a desperate, daily war against weather and radiation, mutants and marauders, a glass house seemed an idea of utter madness.
“It’s a greenhouse, I’d guess,” Leggy said.
Teddy looked more confused than ever.
The house wasn’t green, not by a long shot—the reflected beams of light were blinding hues of yellow and orange.
“I’ll bet they….” but Leggy didn’t finish his thought. He didn’t want to set the group up for disappointment if his daydreams of homegrown vegetables and hydroponic herbs proved wrong. He just shook his head. “Let’s go.”
For a moment all stood in silence, contemplating the strange sight. But when no one could offer a reason not to trek down off the broken highway and over to the glass house, they began the rugged hike in silence. Even Samuel, who was prone to humming, was unusually quiet.
They eased their way down a shattered exit ramp onto the desert floor. Just before they reached the end of the ramp Derek removed his spyglass and lifted it to his eye.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Leggy said. “You gonna blind yourself looking at through that thing.”
“I’m not stupid,” Derek chided, “I’m not gonna look at it. I’m looking around it. Make sure no one’s out there waiting to ambush us.”
Leggy sighed. The kid was right. If the greenhouse was functional, there would no doubt be measures to protect it. Damn, Leggy thought, a greenhouse in the desert. Would miracles never cease?
“Well, I don’t see no one,” Derek said after a moment. “Maybe it’s abandoned.”
The band of travelers continued in silence, picking their way through the desert scrap and scrub. The bloom that had followed the morning’s rain had been brief, and had long since retreated back into the hard-baked earth and shriveled stalks and stems.
Wasteland Blues Page 20
