Scavenger: Evolution: (Sand Divers, Book One)

by Timothy C. Ward

  “Okay, thanks!” Dixon grabbed Carroll’s hand. “Let’s get our stuff.”

  Star took Rush’s good hand with hers. “Come on.”

  Rush’s memory of Warren clouded their approach to the tent. He’d won, though. His wife was at his side, alive. Don’t fear him.

  Yet, every corner and shadow they approached tensed his muscles in anticipation of Warren popping out and stabbing one or both of them.

  “Rush, smile.”

  He tried, for her.

  They made it back to the tent. Memories of Fisher stole his smile. No, that’s not what he wanted. Rush lifted his countenance in time for Star to glance back as she led him inside.

  Behind their tub sink she pulled out a folded cloth sack. A somber mood soothed her features as she lifted and unfolded the cloth. He saw the white hat and blue onesie Fish had worn as his first outfit. So small, even from what he remembered. Rush thought of his boy’s face. Dark wet hair—his mother’s—that curled past his ears and lay as streaks on his forehead.

  Star forced her grin to remain. Rush had to as well. His cheeks hurt and he wanted to cry. He’d had his moment at the Honey Hole, and the relief of Star in his arms safely out of the sand, but this was different. She clasped his good hand over the onesie, his thumb rubbing into the impossibly soft cotton—a rare commodity his students had hunted for out of love for Fish. Rush closed his other arm around Star. Sobs shook them both. As his tears drained, a healing rose up within like a warm spring unearthed by his son’s spirit.

  Rush pressed his lips onto her head and kissed her hair. “You know, you’re still quite young.”

  Star looked up, coy and joyful. “You must think you’re some kind of hero.”

  “Just more aware of the beauty still in my life.” He slipped a finger inside her collar. “And of another window of time before we’re sharing bunks with three other people.”

  They shared their bed one more time.

  After relaxing in his arms, Star slid a chest out from under the bed and unlocked the hinge. She pulled out a suit the same dark blue color as Fish’s onesie. Rush never thought he’d be able to look at it again, but as he did he saw potential more than loss. Fish could be honored by him wearing his son’s color.

  “Good thinking, hun.” He took the blue suit and changed into it, with Star’s help.

  Rush decided on the option of putting his cast arm inside his sleeve. “It might take some time to adjust mentally, but if I keep part of my thoughts on pushing the sand away from my arm, I should be fine.”

  As she zipped it up, gunfire erupted near the heart of the town. Star took out the other chest under the bed, got out a visor, tank and pack, and helped Rush get suited up.

  He had hoped he’d heard enough screams that day.

  SCAVENGER: Blue Dawn

  Chapter 3

  Rush powered on his suit, donned his visor, and focused the EM waves into a pool outside his door. “Stay here. I’ll call you on the radio when it’s clear.”

  Between bursts of gunfire, a woman wailed within ten meters of his tent. He dove with his left arm at his side and the right outstretched. The sand splashed under him. A red pillar showed up in front of him. He tried using his left arm before remembering his injury and hit his unprotected shoulder. He cursed and kicked off to the right, toward a gap in blocks of orange that made up the maze of homes long buried. He stroked with his right arm again, passing through at an elder’s pace.

  He took a path through two tall orange blocks, earning his slow poke nickname as he kicked and fought against his normal stroke to utilize only one arm. The hammer wave maneuver he had used to rescue Star was meant for straightaways, not the twisting, sharp cuts they had to make to get through the buried buildings.

  A tracer of red cut across his path from above. A stray bullet, he hoped. Another lanced left past his face, enough time from the first to make neither a stray. He was being hunted. Warren? He kicked hard through a square hole in the red image of a shanty. One, two, three shots broke through the wall on the far corner.

  I hope you’re up there, Warren, ‘cause I’m comin’ for ya.

  On the other side of the square hole was an enclosed room. He’d have to break through the red wall in front of him. He imagined a churning piston around his right fist as he floated forward. Weight formed around his knuckles as the motion moved his hand in cycles. He thrust his hand forward and released the EM boulder into the wall. The shot broke open a hole wide enough to fit through and he swam inside. He rolled his shoulders in a more comfortable rhythm and kicked out of the home, around the right bend of one ahead of him and down a lane between shanties.

  “Are you okay?” Star asked over his comm.

  “Yeah, stay inside.” He headed north. What if Warren wanted him to come out so he could get her? “On second thought, if you can find cover from the shooters up on the northern dune, head for Avery’s sarfer.”

  His visor read sixty-eight meters to the last building and the end of Shantytown, where the northern dune shielded them in.

  “Be careful!” her cry buzzed into his ears.

  He angled up toward the clearing outside the orange frames of shanties, pushing the sand behind him to thrust him toward the purple rim of open air. He broke through with enough propulsion to adjust midair and skid to a halt. Sand sprayed welts into the dune ten meters away.

  Gunfire echoed from above, precise shots of orange tracers into the heart of Shantytown. One pelted the sand to Rush’s right. He spun into the cover of the dune. He projected a path of hard sand along the edge and ran toward the western exit of town. The gunshots fired wide, the angle from the top of the dune not a clear shot to hit them.

  Sarfers set sail from a gathering west of where Avery had given his speech. Bullets tore through one of the sails. Avery, standing on the deck of the third sarfer in, extended his arm and a blue wavelength of fire shot up into the sky above Rush. A man cried out and the wave disappeared.

  Avery fired another quick blue shot into the dune cliff. Rush followed it over his shoulder as a man tumbled and kicked up sand. His rifle slipped out over his shoulder as he rolled in the air. Rush reached within the reserves of his suit’s power, pressure building between his ears, and cast a mental plate into the sand under the rifle. He pushed back a spring, aimed, and let go. The rifle jolted into the air, flying in an arc beyond Rush’s intended aim. He turned and ran, cut right around a food stand left on three legs, looked up and snatched the rifle out of the air on a dive. In his fall, he spread out some waves to soften his landing. He dipped into a shallow pool and kicked sideways, rifle held high, until he rested on his back.

  “Nice catch,” Avery called out as his sarfer slowed behind him.

  “Always were a bit of a show-off,” Star said, walking toward Star from the corner of a shanty. “But I don’t think the skinball team is together anymore.”

  “Maybe once we get settled in at Danvar,” Avery said. “You and I can recruit teams.”

  “Sip sand.” Rush used the butt of the rifle to help himself stand, and hugged Star. Dixon watched from the deck of Avery’s sarfer. Rush lifted the rifle to catch his attention, then tossed it up to him and climbed the ladder on board. “I didn’t think we had time for me to swim up and grab it.”

  He reached the top and helped Star into the rocking ship. The one in front of them cast out to the left, the owner pulling down the main sail with the bullet holes in it.

  As Avery’s boat pulled alongside them, Rush spotted River in a red headscarf and ker sitting on a bench with two men who’d frequented the Honey Hole. They sat on the ends looking across at Rush as though guarding their property. River’s confusion from his earlier slight continued in her stare at him across their ships. Avery followed their gaze to Rush, then looked at Star.

  Star was busy handing her backpack to Dixon to store under deck. Still, she could have caught River’s look. She said she’d forgiven him, but...Rush knew he had work to do to show himself a different ma
n.

  “I think we got them all, Ernie,” Avery told the captain of River’s ship who was unclipping the sail. “Put another up and file in as soon as you can.”

  Avery returned to the wheel and directed them out to the open sand northwest of Springston.

  Star walked up to Avery and Rush. “So, were those Warren’s guys?”

  “Could be,” Avery said. “Could just be brigands heard an explosion and came to scavenge in the turmoil.” Avery checked out Rush’s suit and where his casted hand stuck out. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s still sore, but I don’t think it’s any worse. I’m gonna need some time to practice swimming without my left arm. But, Avery, they were shooting at me, after I dove. Who else could have sent them?”

  “Brigands know divers are a threat, doesn’t mean anything. Either way, we made it out. You picked up a rifle that should be useful.” Avery looked back over his shoulder. “Didn’t help our recruiting, unfortunately, not to mention the eight people they killed before I took them down.”

  “Yeah, not to mention,” Rush said, unsettled at how close to death he’d been.

  The high sun continued to fill his suit with warmth, and the recent exertion already had Rush sweating. They were the only ships in sight. Avery had their line pointed between two dunes twenty clicks ahead, north by northwest.

  “What’s going on here, Av? You seem too confident about Fort Pope and the tunnels into Denver. You must know more than you told us.”

  “I do.” Avery settled into the captain’s chair, a wooden seat mounted on a wooden pole, and motioned for Rush to take a seat on the port side bench. “But you need to rest. And trust me. It will make sense once you see.”

  “I rested.” Star squeezed his arm, a silent warning to ease up. “We have time to chat,” he told her. Then to Avery, “How does colonizing Denver help get Oya out of those camps?”

  Avery smiled as though called on a secret too good to hide any longer. He opened up a compartment under the ship’s dash, and took out a tin foil wrapped item and a jug of water. “You saw how many camps there are on that map.” He nodded over his shoulder at their company. “You think we have enough soldiers to do anything but hand ourselves over to slavery when we get there?”

  Rush accepted the strip of jerky and bit into its salty hide. “So how does going to Denver first help?”

  Avery snapped off a chunk of his jerky and looked out over the dash. The sun glared off his reflective goggles. A nice set that Rush hadn’t seen before. “Without having been in Fort Pope yet, I honestly have no idea, but if we find some working Old World weapons, and control entry into Denver, I can see building a nice sized attack squad from the youths we have here and trustworthy immigrants we allow in through the tunnels.”

  “What if it’s collapsed under the sand?” Star asked.

  Avery shrugged. “The court house was collapsed. I found what I was looking for. It’ll be harder, but we should find something of use.”

  Avery took the paper he’d shown the crowd out of his suit’s pouch and removed another paper from behind it in the see-through case. He pointed at a word larger than “Denver” spread past where No Man’s Land would be if it were on the map: UNITED STATES. “Remember those tan papers I found with the letters U.S.A. in that clipping about the war and bunkers? That’s two of the words U.S.A. stands for. I overheard someone in my travels mention Fort Pope having tools necessary to bring back our country, The United States of America. We can help do that.”

  The spirit of wonder that had given him and Avery enthusiasm for their diving training returned in full force. “What did you show the crowd?”

  Avery handed him the document case. A torn strip of paper read:

  ‘Fort Pope US Air National Guard - Latitude: 39.7277853 Longitude: -104.9912632

  394872849 - Connolly, G. NRF Act. Ligure’

  Only the last word made any sense to Rush. He took off his visor. Though the white-painted letters on the side were worn, ‘Ligure’ could be what it had originally said. Avery wore the smile of when he knew they were about to dive for treasure.

  “Think Fort Pope has more dive suits?”

  Avery took the paper back. “Maybe. I don’t know.” He stuffed the map inside the case and put them in his pouch, then lifted another strip of jerky and took a healthy bite.

  He bent the strip into his mouth and took a gadget out of a dash compartment. The rectangular object with ‘Ligure’ painted on the bottom had a black screen that lit up when Avery pressed a button on the side. A blue ring encircled glowing orange-red letters spelling ‘Penn-OK’ across the center of the white screen. It flashed to a map with a yellow dot at the top and a green arrow pointing toward it. Avery tapped the yellow dot.

  “That’s Fort Pope. I put in the latitude and longitude earlier. It showed up and this arrow is where we are.” He adjusted the wheel and their direction a few degrees to the west. The arrow straightened toward the yellow dot.

  He typed quick strokes on the device’s keyboard and another dot appeared a good distance to their west. “We have to take a back way in to avoid the brigands patrolling that area.”

  “That’s a good deal back,” Rush said.

  “Where’d you get that, D.M. Hawes?” Dixon asked as he walked up behind them, goggles on and blood red ker shielding his face.

  “Long story, Dix.”

  Dixon nodded, understanding a divers’ reluctance to waste a story at the wrong time. The wind blew through his roughed-up brown hair. He had his black and red Falcon School dive suit on, the squawking falcon head lapel on his chest above two stars. In comparison, Rush’s blue suit had the black head in a closed-mouth frontward stare, and five stars underneath.

  Dixon had Rush’s newly acquired rifle in his left hand. He noticed Rush’s attention on it. “I cleaned it up for you, D.M. Stenson.”

  “Thank you, Dixon.” Rush pointed to his right with his strip of jerky. “Go ahead and set it on the ground there. You hungry?”

  Dixon hesitated, examining the rifle, then Rush’s cast. “Sir, I have two hundred rounds of experience in long-range weapons fire. Considering your...injury. Maybe I could hang onto this—you know, keep an eye out for you so you can do other things.” He looked to Avery for support. “Like more important jobs D.M. Hawes may have for you.”

  Avery smiled. “Boy must have earned his second star for somethin’. And we’ll need a scout with that kind of skill.”

  Rush didn’t want to admit that he couldn’t fire that weapon twice as well, or that his injury was going to have further consequences once he was needed in battle. Avery was trying to give him an out. He knew Rush didn’t like to give up responsibilities. “Okay. But if I ask for it, you have it ready.”

  “Sure thing, D.M.” Dixon pumped the rifle in the air and shrieked their school call.

  Dixon’s gaze trailed back to Avery’s map gadget. “Is that how we’re going to find Danvar?”

  Rush remembered how that excited face had turned south and the young man had left him, disappointed and let down when the man he looked up to most had told him nothing he cared about mattered to him. Rush needed to make amends with him as well. In that, Avery’s quest became his as well. “It is, Dixon.”

  His old student smiled in return, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we’re finally going, D.M.!”

  “Now, now.” Carroll stood and walked toward them. “Don’t think I will forget what you’ve done to him, Rushing Stenson. You’re an alcoholic, a has-been, and we ought to trust you about as much as we should trust a patch of quicksand.”

  In spite of being bone-dry exhausted, Rush forced himself to stand and accept Carroll’s lashing with a straight back. “I don’t disagree with the first accusation, and I am two die short of a strong cast to lead you and your husband to prosperity, but I’ve learned a great deal in the last few hours. I’m a changed man and I will make you believe it.”

  “What has happened to you in the last few hours? Where were you wh
en the bomb went off? That cut looks like a knife wound if I ever saw one.” She pointed at his neck wound. “You get in a fight undersand?”

  “I almost got stonesanded. Knifed myself trying to get my arm free.”

  Carroll didn’t buy it, but just stared up at him through her dark goggles.

  “He saved my life. That’s all that matters,” Star chimed in. “Whatever problem you had with my husband from before today needs to be stitched up and worn like the rest of our problems. You might need him saving your life before you know it.”

  “If my life goes under and I need someone, I highly doubt he’d be the one to heed the call.”

  “Carroll, please,” Rush said. “Star is just trying to preserve the remnant of our town in the hope of a peaceful future. You’re right, I messed up before, and Dixon, I don’t know how to express how sorry I am that I failed you. I was in a deep, dark spot that I only just found my way out of.”

  Dixon grinned and gave a solemn nod.

  Rush continued, “There is a man out there that is far worse of a threat than I am and only the three of us—” he pointed at Star, himself and Avery “—know who he is. Hopefully we won’t see him again, but if we do, you’ll want us on your side.”

  “What makes him such a threat?” Carroll pressed up close to Rush, head cocked and sturdy.

  Rush had no immediate lie.

  “Did he have something to do with the wall getting blown up?”

  Again, did he flat out say no? He may have tipped his hand already.

  Carroll tipped her gaze at Avery. “What aren’t you folks telling us? Why is everyone in my family but Dixon dead?” She pulled on her goggles and freed a tear. “Why?”

  Her high-pitched cry made Rush flinch. He stepped back. She stepped forward. “You know something. Tell me. Who did this?”

  Rush couldn’t hold the guilt in any longer. He needed to let the wound bleed out the dark blood he no longer wanted inside him. “I did. I blew the wall.”

  SCAVENGER: Blue Dawn