Deserted

by L. M. McCleary

“Try again,” I said finally, “maybe you lost concentration?”

  He agreed with a quick nod of his head and we focused our vision on the glass once more. The liquid swirled rapidly inside and then there we were again, sitting around the painting on Christmas Eve. Yet, the same thing happened; the vial became cloudy as it depicted my father leaving town and then abruptly ended.

  “It’s no good…” My father sounded so dejected as his heavy eyes still stared down at the bottle in his hands, “I’m sorry.”

  I sighed and growled quickly under my breath. This was supposed to be it, the day all my questions were answered! I narrowed my eyes at the Memory Vial and silently cursed it but seeing my fathers wrinkled hands distracted my thoughts. I glanced up into his face and my heart sank; his eyes were glossy and his lids heavy as he continually scrunched up and opened his eyes, trying to focus his thoughts. His frown grew more and more exaggerated as he did his best to please me and my heart reached out to him; I’d never seen him so disappointed before. My dad was always happy, no matter the circumstance. He was a glass half-full kind of person and always found the positive in things, so this…this was not a sight I knew what to do with.

  “It’s okay, dad; it’s not your fault.” I reached out my hand across the table to him but he ignored it.

  “It is my fault. I did this and now I can’t even remember why. Why would I do this to you?” He still refused to look at me and his voice was unsteady.

  “It doesn’t matter why. All that matters is that you’re here now.” I had never had to comfort my father before…that was always his forte. Could this have been the breaking point for such an optimistic man? Or was this yet another effect of the vial?

  I continued to look at him as we sat in silence. He clearly fought to keep himself together but I wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to keep up the ruse. “Think about my mother,” I said as I stood up, “she’s still out there and she still loves you; she just wants you to come home. Memories of her might make you feel better.”

  He nodded curtly but still refused to look at me. I took this as my queue to leave him be for a while; let him process what he’s learnt. I gave my father a weak smile and I headed out, ready to find Kay. Perhaps it was selfish of me but I couldn’t keep the frown from inching across my face…why did I feel like it had to be memories of my mother to cheer him up? Why couldn’t he think of me instead?

  It surprisingly didn’t take long for me to find Kay. He was chatting to a few young women near a large stone building; it stuck out like a sore thumb and I had found myself wandering towards it instinctively. There were carts sitting out in front of the building that were full of boxes and bottles. The carts were quite large and reminded me of the ones I had seen at the Meeting Place all those years ago. Many small crates had littered the ground as well, blowing across the Outpost like our own personal tumbleweeds. As I made my way towards Kay I caught a brief whiff of something baking…I believed it to be apple pie. My stomach grumbled at the idea of it and I made a mental note to find its source when I was done. I called out to Kay when I was finally within earshot and the entire group turned to look at me. Kay gasped at the sight -I’m sure he wasn’t expecting me- and the women he was with exchanged a few glances before deciding to leave. Their departure caused Kay to frown but he forced a smile at me as I approached.

  “Long time no see. What happened to you? Why did you leave?” His voice was monotone and he stared after the women who had left him.

  “Don’t ask if you don’t care.” I replied in a murmured tone, loud enough for the both of us but he ignored me, pretending to have not heard me when he noticed my stern look.

  As I had approached Kay I had noticed an alleyway on the side of the stone building. The alley was littered with empty crates and abandoned boxes, making the perfect seating for a quiet discussion. I grabbed Kay by the arm and dragged him into it, shielding us from onlookers as I exposed the vial to him. He took it casually in one hand, barely even glancing at it.

  “What is it?” he asked, tapping his foot incessantly on the shards of broken crates that lay scattered on the ground around us.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Look at it.”

  He sighed and stared down at the bottle, turning it around a few times until he saw his name written upon it. He furrowed his brow momentarily then shrugged as he tossed the vial into his other hand. “What about it?” He looked past me, watching something – or someone – in the Outpost.

  “Well maybe if you actually paid attention to it for more than three seconds –“ I huffed angrily and cusped his hands around the vial. “Look at it and think about…” I had so desperately wanted to say ‘me’ but I hesitated at the message that would send to him right now, “…your past. Where you were before you arrived at the Outpost.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Why? The majority of the people here don’t remember their past; I’m nothing special in that regard. I’m pretty sure that’s why they’re all here.”

  I shoved my hands into the front pockets of my jeans as I scrutinized him. “And doesn’t that make you wonder? You have a mad scientist just to the south of you. A scientist that is known to meddle with people’s minds. How can you think you weren’t affected? What makes you think it’s all a strange coincidence? I know you, Kay; you’re brighter than that.” I wrapped my hands around his once again, both of us cradling the vial in his palms. I felt my heart race against his soft skin, as much as I didn’t want it to. We made eye contact for what felt like minutes and I grew hopeful that this was the start of something good.

  “Brighter than that?” He finally replied. “Just what exactly do you mean by that?” His tone was harsh and he pulled away from me. “Maybe he fiddled with my brain. Sure, whatever. Do I really care?”

  I gasped at him. “How could you not, Kay? How could you not care where you came from or who you are? You have family out there, you know.”

  “And so do most of the people here.” He held the vial in an aloof manner, running his fingers absent-mindedly on the golden lettering. “Look, not everyone here has forgotten where they come from, but most that remember end up wandering into the desert purposefully and come back knowing nothing. Those that don’t opt for that route, those who know who they are and what they have, still choose to stay here. Do you know why?” He stared at me but I remained quiet; I knew he would answer himself regardless. “Because they know that here is better than whatever the hell lies out there.” He spat the words out as he pointed towards the wasteland, his voice struggling to stay as nothing more than an angry whisper. He shoved the vial into my stomach, expecting me to take it back. “I don’t remember much but that can easily happen when you get lost in the wasteland. If the heat doesn’t drive you mad then the loneliness sure as hell will. Amnesia can be caused by anything; you have no proof that Krastanov is behind this.”

  I stared down at the vial that contorted rapidly into moving figures, jumping from one memory to the next as Kay’s thoughts jumped as well. I grabbed his hands one last time and shoved the vial towards him. “Maybe you should just take a look at this.” I tried to keep my voice even to hide my frustration. “I’m going to find a bite to eat.”

  I turned and left him in the alley before he could respond. I didn’t want to hear more of his negative and lackadaisical attitude but his vial’s visions were really none of my business anyway; he wasn’t family so we wouldn’t share a lot of the same memories like my father and I did. Trying my best to follow my nose, I entered the stone building next to the alleyway, hoping that if nothing else, someone inside could point me in the right direction.

  It was massive on the inside and clearly a storehouse, judging by the large, overflowing crates of things lining the walls. There was a path that ran through the mounds and mounds of supplies all around me and wooden signs were hung from the ceiling to point people in the right direction. Each one had pictures next to their words to guide - what I assumed, anyway – those that could not read; I knew
from my dad’s lessons that not everyone was as privileged as me…not everyone had a teacher. The sign to my immediate right when I entered was labeled ‘clothing’ and had a small shirt as its symbol. It had a rather large lineup that I had to squeeze my way through in order to follow the path and the signs to something I could use. I passed by ‘shoes’ on my left and then ‘jewelry’ on my right until I spotted a faint red symbol at the very back. It was a familiar circular shape but I had to strain my eyes to try and read the sign. I watched it get gradually closer as I continued down the path, finally realizing what it was that my eyes were trying to decipher. A large, red apple and the word ‘food’ was scrawled next to it; that had to be where the smell was coming from. I smiled and rushed my way towards it. Of course what I wanted would be at the very back; why wouldn’t it?

  The ‘food’ counter was along the right wall and there wasn’t a customer in sight. I thought it a bit odd that there would be more people for clothing than a meal but maybe there was some kind of rule I didn’t know about; either way it wasn’t something that I cared too much about. The counter was wide and made of a sleek wood and a young girl stood on the other side, eyeing me. I had stared at her without meaning to, as she fascinated me; the iris of her eyes were a startling white and baby blue tattoos graced her cheeks. There were streaks of white going through her long, black hair that seemed to have a mind of their own, standing separate from the rest of her hair and seeming to hover and move of their own accord. She was wearing a long robe of dark blues that appeared too heavy and too large for her. She stared at me with a face of stone.

  “Uh, hi. I’m looking for something to eat?” I tapped my fingers on the counter as I spoke to her, feeling somewhat uneasy under her studious gaze. She stared at me a moment before sliding a book towards me with a pen attached by chain. It had pages of signatures on it and notes of the food being taken. I scribbled my name down and passed it back to her. She saw my signature and then looked at me with a slightly tilted head.

  “…you have a horse?” Her voice was soft as she finally spoke.

  Her words caught me by surprise and I swallowed hard at Ponika’s memory. “I …used to.” The girl looked at me expectantly. “He was taken from me.” I replied hastily, wanting to drop the subject.

  “Why, what does it matter?” The girl merely smiled at me as she bent down and proceeded to open a nearby crate filled with fruit. “…how did you know I had one, anyway?” She still never responded as she packed a basket full with apples and oranges for me. “Oh, I don’t need that much,” I said and she stopped abruptly, looking at me from over her shoulder. “I don’t have a place here; I have nowhere to put it.”

  The quiet girl continued to stare at me for a moment before taking some of the fruit back out. She worked slowly, giving me time to contemplate what she had asked. I assumed someone in town must have told her about me although I couldn’t really figure out why; what did it matter that I had a horse. Although…how did she know it was a horse to begin with? I strongly doubted that Kay would have remembered the name of the beast and I didn’t recall telling anyone else Ponika’s specie.

  “…how do you know me?” I asked cautiously but of course I was met with silence.

  She handed me the basket with only a few pieces of fruit inside. As I slid my hands around it I asked her, “Do you know my father?” She seemed to freeze up at the question. “Do you know my father in town?” She nodded slowly. I picked up my food. “Thank you.”

  I turned and left as she scribbled into the book on the table. I couldn’t help but think as I walked away…how did she know who my father was? I never mentioned a first name and plenty of people have similar last names. Besides that, my father wouldn’t know who Ponika was either, so how does she know that I had a horse at all? I sighed and tried to shake the thought of the young girl’s recognition. It’s been an emotional day as it is; I really didn’t need to add anything else to it. It was interesting, however, to have finally met a Pirate of the Sands.

  CHAPTER 3

  Both men had disappeared for a few hours after the vial’s revelations and I had taken my small amount of food back to my tent, eating slowly and struggling to push the thought of Ponika from my mind. Apples…he loved apples. I had been staring at the spot where my horse used to stand guard at outside, losing myself in thoughts that did me no good when I was suddenly pulled out of my reverie by Kay’s voice nearby.

  “Are you in there?” Before I could even muster a reply he was at the entrance, standing directly in my line of sight. “Get up; Chester wants to talk to you.” Kay’s voice was low and his lips were pulled back in a thin line.

  “Don’t give much warning, do you?” I had sighed quietly as I put my basket of snacks on the nightstand. “What if I was getting changed in here?” I was slightly annoyed by the interruption but also a little thankful for the distraction.

  “Changed into what? Gauze?” His response was immediate and flat-toned, causing his frown to grow even deeper.

  “Yeah; it’s just my colour.” I replied in a sullen tone as I stood up, my gaze still lingering on the fruits that the Pirate had given me. I hesitated in leaving even though my heart sank with every moment I stood inside that tent.

  “I’ve no time for this; let’s go.” He growled at me through clenched teeth, causing me to look up into his piercing eyes that bore into me. I frowned at him but said nothing; I’m not sure this was a Kay that I wanted to hold a conversation with at the moment. I followed him out of the tent and towards my father’s workspace in complete silence, the tension thick in the air around us. When we reached the tent that my father resided in, Kay flung the flaps aside so angrily that I almost caught a zipper to my face. I followed cautiously behind him and was greeted by my father’s smile. Chester’s face was pallid and his eyes appeared heavy but he beamed at me with all the energy he could muster.

  “Thanks for coming.” He said to me, his voice coarse. The words were funny to me; like I wouldn’t show up after everything I’ve been through for him? Chester took no time in getting to the point. “Do you know the way back?”

  Both men stared at me as I returned their glances with wide eyes. Back? Like…back home?

  Kay was fidgeting in his spot, huffing under his breath. “How do you know it’s even real?” He finally cried out, “You just want to up and leave everything for this nonsense? It’s the wasteland; you’ll die out there!”

  I was still trying to comprehend what was going on when my father retorted, “I made it out here just fine.”

  Kay rolled his eyes. “Yeah, if you believe that stupid green thing. Who’s to say that you haven’t lived here your entire life?”

  My father nodded towards me. “She corroborates my story.”

  Kay turned his back to me as though he could shut me out. “And you believe her? What has she done that has garnered so much weight around here?” His voice was low and seethed.

  My father took Kay’s attitude in a calm and collected manner, only sighing mildly at his tantrum. “In the end it has nothing to do with her. I have to do it for myself. This way I’ll know…I’ll know if the vial is right.”

  “Why throw it all away over nothing, Chester? You know you’ll never find your way back here again!” Kay gestured wildly now, realizing that there was little that could sway my father’s mind.

  “I realize that.” My dad replied coolly, “but it’s a sacrifice I have to make. If this is all true then I have to make right by it.”

  Kay shook his head and balled his fists up tightly at his side. “You’ll run out of supplies.” He said, drawing his breathing to a slow, meditative state, “There’s nothing saving you in the wasteland. You have a future here, Chester, but you’ll never survive in the desert…”

  “I understand your concern.” My father said nothing more to him and I was impressed with how politely and professionally he had shut down Kay’s vehement dissent; he clearly had dealt with this sort of thing before. Chester turned his atte
ntion to me, leaning his head ever so slightly to see me past Kay’s intrusive frame. “Do you know the way?” my father repeated.

  “No,” I replied, coming forward to stand beside Kay, “I wasn’t exactly planning on ever going back so I never kept track of which direction I travelled. I wanted to find you; that’s all that mattered.”

  “You weren’t planning on going back?” My father raised an eyebrow and I merely shook my head.

  “You see?” Kay replied quietly but still with a hint of anger, “even she doesn’t want to go back there; that has to say something.”

  “There’s nothing there for me,” I looked at Kay but he ignored me, “but there is for you two. I may not know the way but I can help you get there.” I spoke again to my father. “I know what’s in the desert and I can guide you through it. I’ve even kept a journal of my travels that may come in handy.” A small grin passed my lips as my dad nodded approvingly at me.

  “Be sure to grab it-“ my dad started but was interrupted by another of Kay’s outbursts.

  “You’re crazy!” Kay exclaimed, “Neither of you know where you’re going and you don’t even know if these vials are legitimate, Chester! They could be a fake concoction made by Krastanov to mess with us. Hell, it could have even been made by her.” Kay spat the last word out and pointed towards me yet still refused to look my way.

  “But what if it isn’t?” My father calmly responded. “What do we have to lose by checking it out?”

  “What do we have to lose?” Kay smirked at how ludicrous the statement seemed. “Well, this place, for starters. That is if we don’t die in the wasteland on the way there, anyway. How will we ever get back here?” I furrowed my brow. Why was Kay talking about a ‘we’? Is that why Kay was so furious…did my father demand that he come with us?

  “We don’t necessarily have to get back here,” Chester replied, studying Kay’s incredulous expression, “we might very well enjoy it out there.” Kay stared my father down, his mouth slightly agape at the insinuation. My father sighed heavily. “Look, you don’t have to come with us, Kay, alright? Take over my position here if you wish. But when I get back to our town and they all ask me where you are…what do you expect me to say? To tell your parents that you’d rather chase women than to see them again? If I have to break people’s hearts on your behalf then you better be okay with that.”