Deserted

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Deserted Page 20

by L. M. McCleary


  “Well, you are here now, are you not?” Nathaniel gestured around the tent. “You seem to remember everything and even fixed the problems that these two men wrought upon themselves. Do you know why that is?”

  Nathaniel’s voice sounded much softer when he spoke to me, relieving some of the tension that had once lay stagnant in the air. I raised my head and stared into the Pirate’s eyes. “…I found my journal hidden under my bed. The operation was fresh and it forced my memories back when I read it.”

  “Hmm…” Nathaniel scratched the stubble on his chin. “Dr. Krastanov removes everything that was once familiar to someone. Why do you think your journal was tucked away under the bed, then?”

  I looked at him a moment before I shrugged. “I don’t know, sir.”

  “I think you do.” The Pirate leaned back in his chair as he waited for my answer. When he saw that none was coming, he continued, “I think you hid your journal before the operation because in the end, you didn’t really want to forget. It was a subconscious move and you knew it wasn’t right.. You hid your journal under the mattress so Dr. Krastanov would not find it and dispose of it.” He continued to beam at me. “You had a moment of weakness and made a mistake that you’ve already rectified. You have owned up to your mistakes and continued on your journey regardless; that is much more than can be said for anyone else here.”

  I was at a loss for words at first. “But…but I lost my horse because of it…”

  Nathaniel nodded slowly. “Mistakes, unfortunately, do have consequences. It is a learning experience that we all must go through.”

  “Wait a minute here,” Kay suddenly spoke up, “you preach to her about mistakes and experiences yet you berate us for making a mistake ourselves? How does that work?” He scoffed at the Pirate.

  “Well, for one, I’m not all that convinced that you feel you’ve made a mistake, Kay.” Nathaniel stared at him with a blank expression. “Besides that, she has owned up to the problem and remedied it herself; do you really think either of you can say the same?”

  “We are trying to make things right, Nathaniel.” My father quietly interjected.

  “Which is all well and good. But you are doing so at the spurring of your daughter. If she hadn’t arrived then nothing would have changed. She fixes her own mistakes; you, however, do not.” Nathaniel’s eyes darted from Chester and Kay as he spoke and I shifted on my feet. Kay was already at the end of his rope with me; this would not bode well with him at all.

  “How am I supposed to own up to a mistake when I’ve forgotten it? The stupid vial even clouds over every time I think on it.” Kay replied.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have given up to begin with?” Nathaniel retorted. “But even still, you both knew you could not remember certain things, yet somehow you were okay with that. You didn’t bother trying to figure out why. Either one of you could have done what she did at the Facility, and had many years to do so.” The Pirate awaited a response but the room was entirely still. “As for those clouding vials…I can tell you what happened, if you like, seeing as how I was there.” Kay scowled at Nate’s offer but said nothing.

  Nathaniel remained calm and collected in his seat as he watched Kay writhe in anger. “You followed in Chester’s footsteps. You saw him escape into the night and return with his own supplies fairly often; at least, that’s what you told me when you found me in the desert, anyway. What happened to you, well, I’m not at liberty to say, which would explain why your vials refuse to show it as well. All I can tell you is that you attempted to blackmail us all the same. The only difference is that you actually received your request before you ended up in the desert; Chester didn’t.” Another silence fell over us as we all digested Nathaniel’s words. “Your mistakes were made out of greed and instead of finding a way to correct it you enlisted Dr. Krastanov’s help to wipe your hands of it all. Sorry if I have a hard time forgiving that.”

  “Like she’s some saint.” Kay grumbled under his breath.

  “Enough!” My father stared Kay down before he turned to the Pirate, “Nathaniel, please…I know we don’t deserve your help after what we’ve done and we don’t expect it, either; we merely ask. Will you help us get home and fix our mistakes or will we have to find our own way home?”

  Nathaniel sighed. “He clearly does not want this, Chester,” the Pirate nodded towards Kay, who had his arms folded again and he refused to look at anyone, “Are you sure you want to bring him along?”

  My father nodded. “His parents need to know, if nothing else…”

  Nathaniel looked my father over, scrutinizing him. The Pirate seemed to lose himself in his thoughts for a moment until finally he spoke. “I’ll need to discuss this with a few others and make the necessary preparations. Rest for the night and come see me in the morning; I’ll have your answer then.”

  “I understand,” my father nodded curtly, “thank you for the opportunity, Nathaniel.”

  The Pirate continued to study my father with skeptical eyes as we all turned to go. “Wait,” Nathaniel said suddenly, “I’d like to speak to your daughter.”

  I felt the hair on my arms stand up at his tone. What could he possibly want with me? My father and Kay glanced at me, their furrowed brows showing the same confusion on their face that I felt myself.

  “Well…you’d have to ask her,” my father replied without turning to face the Pirate, “I’m not her keeper.” With that the two men left the tent as I stood frozen to the spot, still watching the slit of the tent blow fiercely in the breeze.

  “May I speak with you?” Nathaniel asked, his voice sounding softer than he had earlier.

  I turned to face him slowly, clutching the belt on my jeans with my one free hand to steady them. “I’m not sure what you could possibly want with-“ I started but Nathaniel waved my worries away.

  “I want to know about you; your adventures. You’ve come a long way on your own and I’d love to hear what you’ve seen along the way.” Nathaniel stood once again, bathing me in his shadow yet he smiled warmly, “walk with me.” He strode past me then turned slightly at the entrance, “if you’d like to, of course; I’m sure you must have some questions yourself.” His smile softened his face entirely and as he waited for my answer I gazed into his now bright and cheerful eyes.

  My heart was no longer racing and I felt my grip fade from my jeans. “I’d love to,” I replied unconsciously and I returned his grin. I followed him outside the tent and around the back, noticing his guards giving me a sideways glance but nothing more. Judging by their skeptical glances I assumed this was not something Nathaniel did often.

  “So it must have been a trying journey.” The Pirate said at last as we wandered into the exposed wasteland.

  “It was…interesting.” I responded, watching the swirling sands on the outskirts of town. Just like the Dunes back home, I could watch them swirl for hours.

  Nathaniel let loose a small laugh. “Interesting? If your trek was anything like mine then I know you’re putting it lightly.”

  “Well…I might have met the same worm that you did.” I had spoken without thinking.

  He stopped and turned towards me, his eyes squinting in thought. “How did you know that?” Nathaniel’s smile had faded, leaving him looking like the mad and intimidating man that I met inside the tent.

  I gulped. Should I have not have said that? “I believe…I’ve read your journal.”

  He continued to stare at me and I shuffled on my feet, doing what I could to avoid his gaze. “How?” He said at last.

  “There was a journal in the library back home…Kay had found it. He read parts of it to me. A man named Nathaniel was rescued in the wasteland from giant worms. I assumed it was you but maybe not; could be anybody.” I had tried to backpedal, hoping I could reduce his anger. I looked around quickly at the expanse of nothingness now around me and the bulking man before me. Was coming out here a mistake?

  Finally his eyes lowered from me and a short smile re-emerged. “Yes, yo
u’re right; it could have been anybody…but that was indeed me.”

  “Nathaniel…Nathaniel Torin?” I spit the words out nervously.

  “Please; call me Nate. But, yes, that would be me. Now I know where my journal disappeared to…” He laughed heartily now, his smile once again brightening his entire face, “I threw it in a box when I returned home; I forgot about it and must have delivered it to your village unknowingly.” He shook his head but smiled at his mistake, “it’s too bad about that fire in the library, then, huh?”

  I merely watched him go at first, my head whirling with sudden thoughts. “Delivered it?” I called after him.

  He turned to look at me, his face soft and he furrowed his brow tentatively. “Yes, of course. Have you not realized it yet? I am your Provider.”

  CHAPTER 4

  I stared at him in stunned silence; he was not at all what I had expected for a Provider, although it made sense. The Pirates have access to a seemingly endless amount of supplies and can travel quickly across the desert…honestly, I should have known as soon as I arrived here.

  “Why would you do it? What made you decide to be our Provider? Why not just escort us to the Outpost or something?”

  “Well we weren’t about to uproot an entire village for no real reason and we’d rather people don’t rely on us anyway. We tried to help out and then they all just sort of…congregated here. We’re not about to abandon anyone, though.”

  I watched the sand dance around our feet. “You couldn’t have even bothered to tell us about the Outpost? That there were other survivors?” I asked.

  “We were trying to be as hands-off as possible…we only wanted to ensure your town’s survival, not intrude in people’s lives. The wasteland was always available to explore if they really wanted to. You’re the only one who did.”

  “Well how exactly do you expect us to venture into the desert? Hell, I barely made it myself!”

  Nathaniel grinned and gestured to himself. “Was I not available? If anyone had bothered to ask for it, I would have provided the means to get through the desert as safely as I could. Even a small scouting mission would have sufficed. But no one ever asked.”

  There was a pause between us as I digested his words. “As for the secrecy…” Nathaniel gazed out at the blazing sandstorm in the distance, seeming to focus on something in particular that my eyes were not strong enough to see, “we don’t want to be known. It’s safer that way.”

  “Safer?”

  “Our entire way of life would be jeopardized if someone found their way in. It’s better this way.”

  “I have to ask, Nathaniel. You Pirates are so standoffish, so why are you deciding to talk to me, then? Why me?”

  “I have many reasons and none of them really matter in the end, although I’m sure we’ve experienced many of the same things out in the wasteland. We’re more alike than you may think.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. Their very own representative is comparing me to one of them? And yet, what do I really know of these people? First impressions haven’t been that great.

  “How so?” I finally asked.

  “You’ve never really liked staying still, have you? A ho-hum existence in town never really seemed to satisfy you. And you didn’t hesitate to venture into the wasteland, either. You have a Pirate’s spirit.”

  I furrowed my brow. “And how do you know all this?”

  “Well I’m your Provider; I’ve known you all your life. I’ve stayed acutely aware of what’s been going on within your town.”

  This jarred forth another question that had been rattling around in my mind. “Who was the Mediator?”

  “An older man that is unfortunately no longer with us,” Nathaniel’s face turned sombre, “My son, Jack, used to help him bring the goods to you but he was only a lad at the time; he was in training. I believe you may have met him when you visited the Meeting Place. Jack has trained well, though; he is currently your town’s Mediator. Chester has unknowingly met him.”

  “Jack…” I thought the name aloud; it sounded familiar.

  “He lives near your village; a cove near the Meeting Place. He’s been my source of information for many years.”

  “Cove?” I asked. “Would that not imply water?”

  “Well it used to be a cove, I suppose I should say. Your home was once quite close to a large ocean, back before the Reckoning.”

  “So you know about the Reckoning?” I found my curiosity piqued at the thought.

  “Barely.”

  Small vortexes of sand kicked up around my feet as I thought back on my journey. “Well, what do you know? What exactly was it?”

  “I don’t really know. I was ushered into a bunker with a few others and hid out there while it happened. All I know is that it turned everything to sand. Seemed to drain the very life out anything it touched. Many people think it was some sort of religious thing; God’s wrath for our sins.”

  “Do you think that’s true?”

  Nathaniel shrugged. “I was a sixteen-year old orphan at the time. Higher powers were the last thing on my mind.”

  “So what about the crazed people, then?”

  “I don’t know. Their sickness could have been caused by a multitude of things. I’m not sure if the Reckoning affected people, but I do know that there was something in the air afterwards. People performed their own forms of quarantine to the point of burning every last thing to the ground in a foolish attempt to contain it. I don’t know anything about this virus, if it really was one, but I haven’t seen anyone else affected by it.”

  I stopped and thought for a moment. “Dr. Krastanov said that his attackers were drenched in chemicals and ran out into the wasteland. Could that have caused something? Could the sickness have affected them like that?”

  “Most definitely. There were a lot of labs scattered around at one point. I can only imagine what must have happened to their materials when the Reckoning happened.” Nathaniel stopped and narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m surprised that Dr. Krastanov even told you something like that. I wouldn’t have imagined him to be the talkative type.”

  I shook my head. “He didn’t exactly tell me, per se…I found a video.” I paused. “What do you mean by ‘imagined’? Have you never met him?”

  “No, of course not. No one has. At least, no one that has kept their memories.”

  I rubbed my temples. “I don’t understand. Tsvetan said that you two work closely together.”

  “Tsvetan?”

  “Yeah, the scientist. That’s his name.”

  “I’ve never heard of him but I can assure you we have no business together. Like I said, we like to stay out of it. That’s why it was left to Chester, for all the good that did.”

  I gave him a skeptical glance.

  “Chester has been in charge of finding missing people for years, now; ever since he first arrived here. I’ll admit that I gave him special precedence because I knew him. But in the end he was all talk and even more excuses - always needing more people for his militia or stating that it was far too windy to be infiltrating anything. He never once went back into the wasteland.”

  “That…doesn’t sound like him at all. Nothing does anymore…”

  “He was a good man.” Nate spoke in a hushed tone and appeared to be unsure of what to say.

  I shut my eyes and tried to ignore the pit in my stomach. There was a moment of silence between us and I contemplated asking the most important question of all; the entire reason I was out here to begin with. Would he really answer me? I gazed up into his face, scrying for a clue. His face was soft, almost familiar, and I found myself trusting him more than I probably should have. He told me to ask questions; what could one more hurt? “So you know nothing of the Reckoning or what exactly happened to Kay or my father?”

  “All I can say is that it wasn’t my call to make. I did what I could to help them but in the end it was out of my hands. I’m sorry for what it’s put you through.”

  “Then w
ho’s call was it to make?” I spit the words out in anger, frustrated by the lack of answers.

  “Someone above me. Above us. Someone that does not like being talked about and something that doesn’t apply to you anyway. It’s a Pirate’s problem; leave it at that.”

  “Just who are you people?”

  “Ones saved from the Reckoning. We weren’t the ones who started to call ourselves ‘Pirates’, either; it’s a moniker given to us that we just sort of…adopted. We’re no better than the rest of you.”

  “Funny; most of you seem to think and act differently.”

  “Yes, it is a growing problem. No two people are the same, of course, and disagreements are bound to come up. I don’t exactly agree with this, but most Pirates deem your kind as beneath them…it’s why you won’t find many Pirates speaking to you. They call you groundwalkers and consider you inferior beings. That’s part of where the secrecy comes from; they don’t want our world sullied by groundwalkers.”

  “Well isn’t that lovely…” I replied, shaking my head.

  “It is what it is, I suppose. But let me put it this way – I don’t think we’re better than the rest of you. Is that better?”

  I sighed. “What does it matter in the end? You can’t answer my questions.” I regretted the words as soon as I spoke them. Nathaniel may have felt easy to speak to but he was still a Pirate all the same - and a high-ranking one at that.

  He sighed and looked away. “It’s better off this way. You have enough on your plate, I think, and concerning yourself with Pirate business is not going to do you any good. Enough about that, though,” he waved his hands before him as though he could shoo the questions away like stagnant air, “tell me about your adventures. I want to know what you’ve experienced in the wasteland. Perhaps we can compare notes?” He grinned once again but it no longer felt genuine.

  I contemplated telling him my entire story; what it was like the day I left and the struggles to survive as the days wore on, but my journal now seemed to lay heavy in my hands. I flipped it open casually and stopped as I saw my father’s message inscribed inside. I ran my finger across the words one last time, remembering the dad he once was. My father…the one who used to kiss my bruises better and tuck me in at night; the one who taught me how to read and write…who got me into books and taught me how to appreciate the work behind a beautiful painting; a man who was not afraid to scold me but not afraid to hug me when all was said and done. Always guiding and protecting me. Where was he now? The man from the Outpost…would he scoff at these words? The Chester I had found…the Chester I had found was not my father. I shut the journal tightly and looked up at Nathaniel.

 

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