The map showed the usual markers, LOW-PUB to the south, SPRINGSTON between it and a shaded area farther north labeled DANVAR. Near the top was a forested area: THE NORTHERN WASTES. In the desert west between Springston and Low-Pub was THE GARDENS, and three spans farther west, the STONE MOUNTAINS. On the opposite side of the map, NO MAN'S LAND had a cluster of three digit numbers east of the BULL'S GASH, two strips of deep caverns torn through the earth, separating the soft sand from the hard. A transition from hard life to impossible.
Avery pointed at 312, the set farthest east, and one of fifty. “I think that's where Oya is.”
He took an aid case from inside the hatch and set it beside Star.
“How do you know she's alive?” Star asked.
He spread some more green powder into her knuckle wound, paused when he finished. “That's complicated.” He unraveled gauze and began wrapping as though that topic's discussion had ended.
Rush didn’t doubt it was complicated, and was too tired to expand their conversation too far from what he needed to know. “Warren said he had hoped I’d join him on a few more jobs. What was he doing here? Think he’ll finish what he started? And where else did he have in mind?”
“Warren wants to kill the ants that are invading his mines and making his camp workers starve.”
“Mines?” Star asked.
“The thunder of the gods,” Avery said. “Those are bombs from his mines.” Everyone knew about the bombs. They went off all day long every day, but what they were for no one knew, because no one returned to tell their tale.
“Easier to kill them in their cities,” Avery continued, “than spread out, approaching his camps. And he’s a third generation tower dweller.”
“What do you mean?” Rush asked. Springston’s sandscrapers were the only towers he knew of, and Avery couldn’t have meant them. They were called scrapers, anyway.
“Cities along the eastern sea.”
“A sea to the east?” Star beamed. “Have you seen it?”
“No. It is a very far and equally dangerous trek, but that could be a destination to consider once we’ve accomplished a few things.”
None of this information told Rush what Warren might be up to at the moment. “His bombs only took out half of Springston. Do you think he’ll come back with more bombs or guns to finish us off? How big is his party?”
Avery tightened the fresh bandage on Star’s hand, kissed her knuckle, and smiled. “You’re gonna be fine. And no less beautiful.”
“Thank you, Avery.”
“My pleasure. Gods know you’ve soothed worse wounds of mine back when Slow Poke and I were younger.”
“It’s a shame you didn’t lose that nickname out in the sands,” Rush said. “I know how all that sun can cause people to forget things.”
“Oh no.” Avery shifted and slid the kit over to Rush. “Your slowpokeness is too legendary even for the sun to blanch out.”
Star laughed. Rush let them have their fun. It reminded Rush of another piece of his life he’d missed. For a moment, it had returned.
Rush propped his injured arm up on his knee for Avery, enjoying the moment. “Don’t team up with him.”
“Your rescue did take two years.” She hid behind a smile and green eyes that reminded him of years past.
“Okay. I’ll give you that one. I earned it.”
“I’m afraid you’ve earned more than that.” Avery opened up a thick pouch of white cloth.
“Oh, I know.” Rush had once broken the outer three toes and a bone in his right foot in a sand diving accident. He knew the pain he was about to experience.
Avery cut out the slits and sleeves to match his left hand up to the crook in his elbow. “Ready.”
“Careful, that knuckle might be broken too.”
“This one?” Avery pressed both thumbs into them, shoving them back into place.
Pain formed spots in his vision. “Agh. Yeah. Thanks.”
“I'm not done yet.” He took a stick from the kit and let Rush clamp it between his teeth.
As Avery adjusted himself to set the bone, Rush watched Star. How could he have spent two breaths, let alone two years, without her company? Sure, she wasn’t always this docile and sweet looking, but he sure could have tried harder to help nudge her that way.
“La—oo” he told her, ready for the—
Avery snapped the bone into place, igniting flaming spears up Rush’s arm that tingled into his fingertips. He turned away and closed his eyes as he growled through the pain and tears. When he looked back at his hand, the tears blurred his vision of the straight but swollen wrist.
Rush's arm throbbed as Avery formed his cast, first from a dry roll of cloth and then a soaked yellow roll that dried into plaster. “How am I supposed to help anyone with a broken arm?”
“One problem at a time, Rush.” Avery leaned into his view, offering a smile that pretended nothing was wrong. Sand particles dusted the tips of his shrub-patched beard. “We can work around this. We can put your arm inside the body of your suit, or form some kind of shield over the end to keep that thumb from getting hit. I don’t know, but my point is you’re alive. Star’s alive. Come on, man. Be happy. You have more than I do.”
“A shield?” Rush looked up at the hole in the metal roof that let sand drift down into the air. “Like you tried for Herace? That thing twisted almost immediately. Not only did he lose the race, but Doc Toby had to reset the boy’s arm.”
“I’ve learned a lot about diving, among other things, since then. That was before I knew where to look on my dives, before I could pass four hundred meters.”
“Four hundred meters. You sellin’ rain right now?”
“I’m serious.” Avery glanced at Rush’s wrist. “That might not even matter. Your arms are ‘bout as skinny as—” he stopped and smiled at Star, then back to Rush “—pigeon legs. Hells below, we might save time training Star to use a suit.”
“I did just fine swimming cross town and bringing her up to air.”
Avery picked up the plaster roll, squeezed excess water back into the pouch, and motioned Rush to move his arm back into place. “Just fine indeed.”
“How are you, Star?” Rush asked.
She rested with her head against the wall, staring up at the light through the hole in the ceiling. When she tilted her head toward Rush, a tear streaked dirt down her cheek. “Good.” She smiled. “Just thinking about our precious Fisher.”
Rush should take her lead and think of Fish. Make it a blessing and not a curse to remember his little boy. He met Star’s gaze. “He was precious.”
Then he thought of Avery and his son. “Where's Kevin?”
Avery flinched at the name, then looked up like he’d wished Rush hadn’t asked the question. Oh, no. Rush felt a cavern open up in his chest. It took longer than a few breaths to gain the ability to talk. Kevin had died. “Avery, I'm so sorry. Here?”
“No, five months ago.” Avery paused his tape rolling. “I got lazy. Or pushed him too hard. Whatever. His suit failed him. Had to retrieve his body from a stonesand casket. Buried him at The Gardens.”
“Avery,” Star began, finding speech before Rush. “We’re so sorry.”
“Yeah, Av.” Not very helpful, but what else could he say?
“Thanks.” Avery cut the tape and finished. “You guys are the only ones I’ve told.” He stood. “I’d like to keep it that way if you don’t mind. I’m going to go to the cistern. I’ll come back with some food.”
“Thank you, Av.”
“Keep that clean.” He looked at the cast, then at the sift floating down from the ceiling. “Not easy to get the sand out once it’s in.”
In casts or in the soul.
Avery left. Star seemed to have a whole different interpretation. She slid the aid case out of the doorway and cornered Rush in the shadow, the small room’s alcove for secrecy.
In this small pocket, the world gave them time and opportunity, as though rewarding them both for reachin
g the finish line to a dark and ugly maze. Her touch on his bare skin. Her voice whispered in his ear. Every breath worth tenfold in waiting.
Afterward, as he let her use his good arm as a pillow, he kissed her hair and thought, my time for waiting is over.
“You will have my best from now on.”
She smiled without opening her eyes, then kissed the air. “I better.”
Rush closed his eyes and let her words soak into a promise he’d have to keep.
SCAVENGER: Blue Dawn
Chapter 2
Rush woke to the sound of compressed air filling a tank.
“Glad to see you two taking advantage of your sleep time,” Avery said, then returned to the whistle of air. The shrill noise scraped through Rush’s headache. His hand throbbed against the pressure of his cast.
Star smacked her lips. A string of drool pooled on the sand-dusted floor. When she opened her eyes and looked into his, even her starry, sleep-deprived focus was beautiful. Vulnerable and sweet. He missed being with her.
“I wish we had more time to relax, but we don’t. No sign of Warren, but that could only be a matter of time.”
Avery cuffed a hand under Rush’s arm and helped him to sit. He offered two goat sticks of skewered flesh, peppers, and leaves of medicine atop thin wooden spikes. The meat smelled as if the goats were still in the room.
Rush’s hunger prevented hesitation and he closed his mouth over three bites. Star sat up and took hers. The goat meat chewed like rubber, and the nutrients absorbed into his taste buds with similar flavor. “Not as salty as usual.”
“I helped scavenge some newly dead grazers. The survivors are eating well now.”
Rush didn’t associate goat meat with eating well, but his stomach needed filling. “How many are there?”
“Few hundred, but I’m having a hard time keeping them still.”
“I can’t imagine why. I’m thinking of getting moving, too.”
“The guy that cut my finger off,” Star added. “He left before the bombs went off. He could still be here.”
“What did he look like?” Avery asked. “Aside from his light blue ker.”
“I…well...not as tall as Rush, but thicker. More muscle.”
“Thanks, honey.”
“You mean your beer and brothel diet didn’t work as planned?”
“Ouch.”
“Anyway.” She smiled off the tease with more grace than he deserved. “Not much else to notice with the ker and goggles on.”
“Was he sunburned too?” Rush asked.
“No. Tan like a brigand.” She reached for Avery’s canteen to help wash down her mouthful.
Avery walked back over to the air compressor. “I think something would have happened by now if he was going to do anything.” He swapped his second tank with one from Rush’s backpack. “Unless he’s going for backup, which...who knows. Anything could happen.”
“Just use the tank,” Rush interrupted. “Hose is cut.”
Avery nodded and unscrewed the hose connection.
Star took another bite, mumbled, “If the blue ker guy is still here I’d recognize his voice.”
“And I would recognize Warren’s voice,” Rush said.
Star nodded. “Me, too.”
“Well,” Avery said, releasing the air tank from the valve to put it in Rush’s pack. “I hope it is some time before either of you need to use that resource.”
“Why’s that?” Rush picked meat from his teeth.
“I don’t plan to follow him to Low Pub.”
“What?” Star sat straighter. “We have to stop this from happening again.”
“That’s not up to me. They have security.” Avery stopped at the door. “My priority is recruiting as much help as I can from Springston and getting the hell out of here.”
Rush swallowed and chomped down another bite. “I don’t know, Avery. Lots of innocent kids in Low Pub. Your wife, no offense, has been gone for a long time. Another few days can’t hurt.”
Avery wasn’t easing off. Deep-rooted anger held his gaze. He tossed a pair of shorts at Rush. “I’m not going to No Man’s yet. Put those on for now.”
Rush slipped the shorts on over his underwear. Star helped. “Thanks.”
He stood. “Maybe we can recruit our own group to help Low Pub and then meet you somewhere.”
“Let me explain myself before you go off on your own, like a one-armed superhero. You're no Superman.”Avery smiled at the old joke he’d made about Rush and his treasured comics. “If I thought saving Low Pub were possible I’d go, trust me. We have our country’s future at stake.”
Our country?
Rush didn’t ask. He just followed Avery out into the bright sun, Star trailing him with her hand in his. They took a left out of the shanty and walked straight ahead to a large group gathered in a clearing on the other side of Elliot the blacksmith’s shop. Some turned when they saw Avery coming.
Rush recognized Dixon and Carroll, two of his former students. They were sitting against Elliot’s storefront, eating goat sticks. Bandaged cuts stitched across their tanned skin around their shorts and tee shirts. “Dixon! Carroll.”
They looked over. Dixon gave a weak smile. Carroll just stared. Old grudges die hard, he knew. He mostly deserved it, but hoped his glee at holding Star’s hand would show he’d changed from the bitter drunk who’d given Dixon the cold shoulder two years ago.
He wanted to ask Dixon what he was still doing in Springston, but he feared part of that was his fault. He and Star stopped before them. They didn’t get up. “Are you both okay?”
Avery cut into the crowd toward a sarfer facing the remnants of the courthouse behind him.
Dixon held out his hands. “Just some scratches. Nothing like that.” He indicated Rush’s cast. “How are you?” He did a good job trying to be polite, showing maturity in his early twenties.
Rush smiled at Star. “I’m pretty great, actually.”
Star winked back.
“What happened to your hand?” Carroll asked.
Star lifted her right hand. “Almost got trapped. Better to lose a finger than your life, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks everyone for sticking around,” Avery called out from the bow of the monohull sarfer’s deck. “Some left to warn family in Low Pub. I understand, but for the rest of us, we need to pack up and head that way as soon as we can.” He pointed to Rush’s right. North. Toward Danvar.
I thought he wanted to save his wife.
“Screw Danvar with a broken mast pole,” someone shouted from the crowd.
Another yelled, “I lost two sons trying to find that made-up city…”
“Danvar’s our only hope…”
“There is no hope.”
Avery waved for them to calm down. “Danvar is not made up. It’s a city from the old days called Denver.”
“Lies!” someone shouted.
Avery took a short staff out of his pants, barely wider than his hand. He tapped his thumb on something in the middle and its ends extended twofold. The tips glowed a bright blue. He twirled the staff between fingers on his right hand, caught it, and snapped his wrist. A blue beam surged out from the tip. A great crack erupted in the air and a wave of heat blew across Rush’s skin. The crowd screamed as the short burst passed over their heads toward the courthouse remains. The beam hit a sand drift beside a broken wall and hardened before their eyes. Smoke rose from the newly darkened sand.
The crowd ooooed in awe.
A hundred people asked questions.
Only one of the tips on Avery’s staff was blue. He thumb tapped the center and it extended to a full-sized bow. He twirled it again, showing off like his old self, and caught it. The crowd silenced, waiting for another show. He took out a small piece of paper from his pocket. “In my travels I’ve discovered a way into Denver that won’t rely on all of you being able to dive. On this are coordinates for Fort Pope, which is about fifteen miles west of Denver. Fort Pope has
a tunnel connecting it to a web of government buildings in the city. Folks, this is our wind to living in the luxury of the Old World!”
Many hollered in excitement, raising their fists in the air in sync with Avery. He tapped his staff and it shrank back to the size of his palm. He put it and the paper away in his pocket. “Find and pack what you can. We leave at dark.”
He stepped off the sarfer. Enthusiastic pats on his back followed him back to Rush. His smile showed teeth as he approached Rush, hands out as though expecting a hug. Rush let him in, but lacked Avery’s grip.
“What’s wrong? Our dream has come true.” Avery checked Star, then back to Rush. “Trust me, you’re no safer here. Star will get the chance to live better than Oya and I did near the wall and you and I can lead the colonization of our dream city. Does it get any better than that?”
Rush allowed himself a smile. “Yeah, that sounds pretty good.” He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly felt wrong about it, but there was something. It can’t be that easy.
How could he go from contemplating suicide in the morning, becoming a murderer in the afternoon, and then being rewarded in the evening with a free trip to paradise? Life did not work that way.
Colorado was not that kind of god.
Regardless, Fisher would want him to take care of his mother. I’m trying, Fish. I just have a bad feeling about this.
And yet, what other choice did he have? People didn’t survive long outside the town proper.
“Good. Would you like to help Rush get the charged suit now?”
“Sure,” Star said. “Where should we meet?”
“That sarfer’s mine.” Avery pointed at the one he’d given his speech from. “Stow your stuff under deck. The closer we get, the higher our chances of having to go fast.”
Dixon looked up at Avery in excitement. “Do you have any extra room for us? I have a suit and have kept up my training.” He did look stronger than a few years ago.
“Sure, but just you and Carroll. Anyone else asks, tell them there are some sarfers on the south side that may be up for grabs. We need to keep our ships light.”
Scavenger: Evolution: (Sand Divers, Book One) Page 4
