Vagrants (Vagrants Series Book 1)

by Jake Lingwall

  “Let’s hope one meets up with the twins,” Stefani said.

  “You really don’t like them,” Jeff said.

  “I’ve put a knife through less deserving folks.”

  “Stefani doesn’t take to everyone as well as she has to you,” Carlee said.

  “She wanted to leave me for dead.”

  “Exactly my point.”

  “It’s a shame that out of the ten billion people on the planet before the Ascension, we’re left with fifty million or so of the worst scumbags nature has ever produced,” Stefani said. “It’s like some sick, twisted form of natural selection, where only the worst survived.”

  “There’s some good people still,” Jeff said. He reflected on that comment, realizing that he wasn’t entirely sure if that was true anymore. Chad and Charlotte had been the two examples he was going to use, but they were dead.

  “There are countless good people. You just have to see them for who they really are when you have the opportunity.”

  “Hard to see past them trying to stick a knife in your throat,” Stefani said.

  It didn’t sound like this was the first time they had this conversation. Their transport weaved through some trees and came into a clearing where a deserted old city rested in front of them. Most of the houses were no longer standing, but the few that were still upright looked to be holding on for dear life. Burn marks and bullet holes covered the fences and the ground. At some point in the past, this city had been the site of a battle.

  “Someone has to show them there is still compassion left in this world,” Carlee said. “That’s the best weapon we have left.”

  “Good thing you had some extra sympathy lying around so we could kill that roller,” Stefani said.

  “Anyone can kill, the Apostles most of all,” Carlee said. “That doesn’t make them right.”

  “They seem to be doing OK,” Stefani said.

  Jeff turned his head as they drove by a ten-foot pile of human bones. The Apostles didn’t take the time to organize their kills in that manner. The devastation that the Apostles had started during their Ascension had led to countless atrocities of humans against one another. He didn’t want to think about what had happened in this particular town.

  “How can I tell that things are going to happen before they do?” Jeff said. He wasn’t entirely sure where the conversation was currently, but seeing the destroyed town reminded him of his new purpose.

  Carlee and Stefani looked stunned at his interruption.

  “Not all the time,” Jeff said. “But sometimes, I know things are going to happen before they do. Like when we first met and before the leech shot up the caravan. And especially when I fight.”

  Stefani looked to Carlee, who considered it for a moment before she shrugged.

  “It’s complicated,” Carlee said.

  “I deserve to know, especially if it’s going to get me killed somehow.”

  “I’m afraid that if I tell you enough, you’ll only grow to resent the information,” Carlee said.

  “Yeah, right,” Stefani said. “Pressing is the only thing in this dried-up husk of a world that makes living worth it. I would have offed myself a long time ago if I couldn’t press in the occasional bottle of wine.”

  “Occasional?” Carlee asked.

  Jeff ignored the tangent and focused on Carlee, begging her with his eyes to teach him. Carlee sighed in defeat, and Jeff held in his exuberance.

  “You’re a boxer, right?”

  “Yes,” Jeff said. He kept his answers short to try to keep things focused.

  “OK, stand up,” Carlee said.

  He pushed himself to his mismatched feet and stood on the transport. Despite the speed of the vehicle, it was perfectly stable, so he had no trouble maintaining his balance. Carlee stood directly in front of him.

  Her uneven hair was alluring, and her eyes were beautiful. He’d never really stood face to face with her like this before, and it gave him the opportunity to imagine what it might be like to kiss her.

  She punched him in the face.

  It sent him careening to his left, where he wasn’t able to catch himself with one arm. He face-planted against the side of a crate. He groaned as Stefani helped pull him to his feet. Surprisingly, she wasn’t laughing as she steadied Jeff.

  “She’s a great teacher,” Stefani said as she backed away from him.

  “Sorry, but that was important,” Carlee said.

  “No need to apologize. I’ve always said that you never really know someone until you take a punch from them.”

  Carlee smiled at that but continued anyway.

  “Now, imagine that you just asked me to teach you, instead of a couple of minutes ago, and I just made the decision that I would do it. I just asked you to stand here in front of me.”

  “All right . . .” Jeff was uneasy, but nothing would keep him from learning to press.

  Carlee swung at him again, but this time he was ready for it. He ducked the blow and prepared himself for another even though he knew he was going to be helplessly exposed without his left arm.

  “And that’s how you know,” Carlee said as she took a seat.

  “Well said,” Stefani said.

  “What?” Jeff asked. “Did I miss something?”

  “Sit down and tell me what you learned,” Carlee said.

  Jeff did as she asked even though he was extremely frustrated. The only thing he felt he had got out of that lesson was a black eye.

  “I learned that you know how to punch,” Jeff said. It didn’t earn him a response, so he tried again. “I learned that if I knew you were going to punch me, then I could dodge it?”

  “Good,” Carlee said. “And in our little exercise, how did you know that I was going to punch you?”

  “Because it happened before.”

  “That’s one part of it,” Stefani said.

  “I . . . hmm . . .”

  “It was all based on our decisions,” Carlee said. “Every decision everyone has ever made in their entire lives led us here to this moment, to you, me, and Stefani traveling together in this transport. Can you imagine the number of decisions throughout the course of time that led us here?”

  “That would be a lot,” Jeff said.

  Stefani snickered behind him.

  “More than a lot. Countless. And do you think it’s possible that you might have asked about how you could anticipate things before you asked if vagrants could fly?”

  “Sure,” Jeff said.

  “Now, imagine you had asked those questions in reverse, which you admitted was entirely possible. In that case, we would have stood for your lesson a few minutes before we did here, and I still would have punched you.”

  “OK . . .”

  “Now, let’s assume that when you made that decision to ask about flying vagrants, our reality split into two separate time lines. In one of them, you asked about knowing first, and I punched you. In this time line, the order was reversed. So, when you stood here, and I punched you, those events had already happened in a different time line. A different reality.”

  “But—” Jeff started to protest, but he didn’t know what to say.

  “Well, there you go,” Stefani said. “You blew Handsome’s mind. Now he’s missing his leg, arm, and what was left of his brain.”

  Carlee smiled warmly at him, but she addressed Stefani.

  “He’s doing well. He hasn’t thrown up yet.”

  “I’m sure he did in some reality. He looks like he’s just holding it in now.”

  “So, you’re telling me,” Jeff said, “that when I decided to ask a certain question, I created an entirely separate universe?”

  “That’s not a horrible way to think about it,” Carlee said.

  “I mean there are some real problems with that, such as you being the one to actually create—” Stefani said, but Carlee cut her off before it could get to whatever eventual zinger waited for him.

  “It’s close enough,” Carlee said. “And ev
ery time I make a decision, the path splits. Every time Stefani makes a decision, the path splits. While we’ve been having this conversation, I imagine that we have created a hundred different realities, different time lines that play out their own reality.”

  “And I somehow am able to sense events that have happened in other realities?” Jeff asked.

  “Very good,” Carlee said.

  “But . . .” Jeff didn’t even know what his question was. He rested his head against the force field and sighed.

  Realities. Paths. Decisions. The words swirled in his head as he tried to make sense of the information. But it didn’t make any sense. None of it made sense. Vagrants could fly, make transports out of rocks, and have force weapons appear out of thin air.

  “Does that mean that in some reality—or path or whatnot—that my brother is still alive? And that I’m still back in Fifth Springs?”

  “There are realities where the Apostles were never created or where humans killed one another off long ago,” Carlee said.

  “Or a time line where I actually gave a crap about people,” Stefani said. “Although that is a rare occurrence.”

  “There are time lines beyond numbers. Limitless possibilities of what might have been.”

  “And we’re stuck in this one?” Jeff asked.

  “Sucks, doesn’t it?” Stefani asked.

  “No, I mean, is there a way to get to a different reality?” The prospect of being able to go to a reality where none of the nightmares of the past few days had happened replaced his urge for revenge. He’d trade his hate for peace in an instant.

  “No,” Carlee said. She frowned, and her eyes went wide with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Jeff. It doesn’t work that way. This is our path. All we can do is try to make it the best path that we can while we travel along it.”

  Something on the front panel of the transport beeped, drawing Carlee’s attention away from the conversation. Jeff was eager to learn more, but at the same time, the truth weighed on him. The small glimmer of hope he had allowed himself to feel had been crushed.

  “No,” Stefani said. “Not this time. Let’s just go to the rendezvous point.”

  “We have two days before we have to meet the others,” Carlee said. “Besides, I think it’s time that Jeff sees what vagrants are really about.”

  10 THE CURE

  “This is a bad idea,” Stefani said.

  “At least you have a gun,” Jeff mumbled.

  “Aside from your good leg, you’ve got nothing to lose. They’ll probably let you try to stumble away.”

  “You’re right. I do have it good.”

  “Remember, not a mention that we are vagrants,” Carlee said. She doubted that Jeff would let it slip. In fact, she had no doubt he was terrified. She’d had a peaceful childhood compared to most, sheltered from a lot of what people faced these days, but even she had been taught to fear vagrants. It was likely that if the people of the village they were approaching figured out their true identity, they would try to kill them. “They should have eyes on us any minute. No killing, Stef.”

  “I hate that phrase,” Stefani grumbled. Carlee knew from experience that Stefani’s response was both truthful and a joke. She did like to shoot people, but only if they deserved it. In general, her friend was only slightly overeager; it worked out well because Carlee would rather be shot herself than shoot others if she could help it. The world had seen enough death already, and unfortunately, she had done her share. She wasn’t a pacifist, and sometimes people needed her protection.

  They were walking down a dirt road, making no attempts at concealing themselves. It was an extremely foolish move, but Carlee wasn’t concerned. Stefani protested walking so exposed when they knew other humans were around, but she had protested everything since Carlee had forced her to leave her beloved sniper rifle behind.

  “You’re sure they are up here?” Stefani asked as they continued to walk.

  “The readings were clear,” Carlee said. “And there are plenty of signs that this area is inhabited.”

  “Maybe the transport should have told us to park a little closer,” Stefani said.

  Carlee ignored the comment. She knew Stefani didn’t really mean anything by it, but Stefani would be happy to argue about it for hours. She was funny that way.

  “So, I was thinking—” Jeff said.

  “Here we go . . .” Stefani said.

  “With the whole reality-splitting time-line stuff . . . you mentioned that they split on decisions. But I never really consciously decided which question to ask. It just kind of flowed out of me, but that’s still enough to create a new path?”

  “Actions require a decision,” Carlee said. “Inertia doesn’t overcome itself.” She didn’t blame Jeff for taking advantage of the opportunity to try to learn, although she did feel slightly guilty for teaching him—Jane wouldn’t approve of it.

  “Carl is smart,” Stefani said. “At some things. Not great at judging distances, though.”

  “So, actions are what causes the split, then? Not decisions?”

  “We only know so much about how it all works,” Carlee said. “But I suppose the designation would come down to whether you consider nonphysical decisions to be actions.”

  “I’ve never really thought about that,” Jeff said.

  “Good, that makes you normal,” Stefani said.

  “Like the things you spend your time thinking about are normal,” Carlee said. Not that Carlee was complaining—Stefani’s perspective on life kept things fresh. She had a more creative mind, and by all accounts, she should be the better presser between them. But that’s not how things had worked out on this path. And there were many things on this path that hadn’t worked out like they should.

  “Someone has to think about whether we were the ones to domesticate dogs or if they were the ones to—”

  “Hands up!” Six guards in makeshift camouflage appeared out of the foliage on the side of the road.

  Carlee raised one arm and moved the other to help steady Jeff, but to her surprise, he was fine. He had adjusted quickly to his new circumstances.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” Carlee said.

  Carlee surveyed the faces of the people who thought they had surprised them. Their temperaments were the most important thing for her to read. Everyone had weapons and could hurt people; it was people’s personalities that determined her nerves these days.

  “Jeff, get that stump in the air,” Stefani said dryly. “Wouldn’t want us to get shot.”

  “Sorry,” Jeff said as he rose what was left of his arm into the air.

  “You got any weapons?” a boy trying to act older and tougher than he actually was said as he stepped in front of the group.

  “Of course we do,” Carlee said. “We’re not crazy.”

  Admitting that they had weapons caused a stir among their welcoming party. The young man in front of them looked to another guard for direction. He was trying hard to show leadership, but he didn’t have the confidence to match it yet.

  “Give us your weapons,” the boy said. He held his shotgun up threateningly.

  Stefani sighed. She was fully capable of disarming the boy or killing everyone in their community with little effort, so it was no surprise that she had little patience for playing along.

  “What’s your name, sir?” Carlee asked.

  “Er . . . Matt,” he said.

  “Matt, we didn’t come this way in order to get in a fight. But we have no desire to leave ourselves defenseless. Now, how about you invite us into your village, and in exchange for some hospitality and a square meal, we will repay you with our medical services,” Carlee said.

  “You are all doctors?” Matt asked. His voice was full of surprise and disarming hope. He lowered his shotgun slowly.

  “Matt, no!” a woman shouted from his side.

  “We can’t trust ’em,” an older male voice said from Jeff’s side.

  “But they’re doctors,” Matt said, but he pointe
d his gun at them once again.

  “We’re honest folk,” Carlee said. She made her accent match theirs. “We won’t stay more than a day or two, and we’re not aiming for any handouts.”

  “No one from the outside can come in,” the woman said. “Heather’s orders. You know it.”

  “Heather needs a doctor. And so does her boy,” Matt said. Thankfully, she knew he was going to give in; Carlee had seen too many people in need in the past to doubt how this would work. The world had damaged people so deeply that they didn’t know how to accept kindness anymore.

  “But—” the woman started to protest, but Stefani cut her off.

  “I think you could handle a gimp and a couple of women if we tried any sketchy business, couldn’t you?” Stefani asked.

  “All right,” Matt said, lowering his gun. “You can come with us, but you help Heather first.”

  “Of course. Thank you, Matt,” Carlee said. She projected her calmest voice, hoping to further placate any concerns among the guards.

  No one said a word as they escorted the vagrants and Jeff off the road and through some thin trees. It didn’t take Carlee long to figure out that they hadn’t built their community on top of one that had existed before the Ascension, as many others had.

  A few minutes later, they came to a palisade fence where guards who were little more than children protected their borders. No smoke rose from their village, but a dozen or so yurts were built in a circle formation. In the center of their small community, a handful of toddlers chased after one another.

  It broke Carlee’s heart to see them. She didn’t want to think about the hardships they would see in this world. At times, she wished she could go back to being one of them, dancing around carefree, not worried about Apostles, warlords, or trying to show people what it meant to be human. In another path, she might have kept her innocence longer, maybe even had children of her own. But no matter how much she wished to live in another time line, this was the one she could change. She would help these people.

  Everyone in the circular encampment was fixated on the outsiders. Even the children stopped playing as Matt led them briskly toward one of the yurts.