Alarum (Walking Shadows Book 1)

by Talis Jones

  Rosh fidgets irritated. “Fine, you want to know the whole story? Fine.”

  Riker raises his eyebrows at Rosh’s relent and I’m careful to keep my victory hidden from my face.

  “I’m Lucas’ wife. Second wife. Turns out he’s not as charming as I’d thought. He’s a downright bastard that deserves to rot in hell for the things he’s done. I hate him. I hate him more than any who know him so I ran off and he’s been chasing me since. Every garrison we pass I leave limping in our wake and it’s all out of pure spite.”

  Rosh’s emotions exploded out of her until suddenly her breathing hitches, pitches, and staggers clumsily off a cliff. Her body seizes as a violent cough rolls through her like thunder. She pulls a cloth over her mouth and quickly stuffs it back into her pocket but not before I see the blood spattered and shining upon its surface.

  I glance surreptitiously at Riker but see nothing beyond a slight frown tugging his face. His voice rumbles across the fire as he takes up the story. “We met not more than a year ago,” he shares. “We were both down on our luck, groveling in the dust, full of fire with nowhere to burn. Didn’t know much of anything about the other but that night we decided we had nothing to lose, so we tossed back a glass of whiskey and rode together from that day on.”

  Looking between Rosh’s possessive posture and Riker’s relaxed form my mind whirrs around their riddle. “I see,” I say even though I’m not quite sure I do. I don’t ask about Rosh’s illness. I get the distinct impression that it’s not something discussed.

  “This is when you tell us your story,” Riker nudges, his voice a rough curious purr.

  I dig the toe of my boot into the dirt, smearing the loose soil around as I try to straighten my thoughts. Quid pro quo. Another thing I learned in the Corral.

  With a reluctance that chains my body down I open my mouth and unfurl the words that spin the years I’ve endured on this earth before them. I skip over horrors and skirt around joys but I give them the gist of my journey.

  Without meaning to I find myself confessing far more than I ever intended. I don’t know them. I don’t know them. They told me nothing. And yet the words still rush out like a dam blasted apart. I scramble to shore up the walls, to slow the flow of confessions, to hug all these truths to me and crush them deep inside my empty chest. But still they flow.

  Born in Pennsylvania.

  Raised in Tennessee.

  Abused in Alabama.

  Strengthened in Missouri.

  Broken in Nebraska.

  Rebuilt in South Dakota.

  Memories are pulled through my skin in freezing shivers until it burns. I burn there before strangers, stripped bare and arms thrown out, I’m on display for them to cut down but no tears betray me and one by one their understanding breaks my chains. Rosh’s face softens then hardens but this time her fury is for me, not against me.

  Chains around my throat are pulled apart. Lady, stretches against her rope until her nose nuzzles my back.

  Chains around my ankles burst free. Riker sits beside me and pulls me into his arms, his eyes full of too many emotions to decipher.

  Chains around my wrists snap like clay and I rip the iron from around my heart. I melt into his hug, a fierce embrace that holds me up because I cannot.

  I should feel weak. I should feel ashamed. I should feel humiliated. I should feel torn apart until I can disappear on the wind and into the shadows.

  But I don’t.

  Beyond my understanding I feel stronger. I feel unburdened. I feel accepted. I feel safe.

  I pull away from Riker’s arms and see from the wet stains on his shirt that tears had fallen thick and angry but he doesn’t seem to notice or mind. I want to apologize.

  But I don’t.

  Warily I turn towards Rosh but her face is twisted with conflict. “This is her, isn’t it?” She asks this question to Riker, searching his face with a clenched jaw. As she sees the truth sadness, disappointment, and resolution tremble through her.

  I wonder at her question but find my voice isn’t ready to speak yet and Riker avoids my eyes.

  “In the morning we head south,” Riker announces, clearing his throat of any emotion lurking within it.

  A feeling of reluctance surprises me. “I need to go north.”

  “You’ll die out there,” Riker insists. Rosh says nothing.

  “I need to go north,” I repeat. I don’t know why but I just have a feeling that Sanctuary is there. That it’s real. That if I make it far enough north I’ll find its hidden borders. Connors might not have made it but I would. For him.

  Riker shakes his head. “We can’t go with you. There’s not enough food for all three of us.”

  “Then I’ll go alone.”

  Hurt flickers in his eyes but it vanishes quickly. “It’s a lost cause, Fury.” He mutters this so softly, so mournfully, I’m taken aback. “I know you want to find Sanctuary, but you won’t find it there.”

  My mouth moves but no sound comes out. How could he know this? Slowly Riker pulls out a rumpled square of paper from his pocket. A rumpled square that I recognize. I recognize it because I saw Connors tuck it into his jacket pocket months back. “Where did you get that?” I ask, my voice low and uncertain.

  “It fell from his coat when we,” he fidgets uncomfortable, “when we buried him.” He reaches out and holds my hand, bringing it up and curling my fingers around the worn message. “You should read it, Fury.”

  With trembling fingers I unfold the filthy parchment and read the crisp handwriting of the old man, or did Connors’ write it down? Seeing the worn crumpled slip of secrets opens me like a dry cracked desert clay and lifts me like feathers on the wind. But as I unfold its edges and see its words laid bare before me I realize that for a moment I flew too close to the sun, for a moment I wasn’t flying at all because I was floating. Floating like a balloon untethered reaching for the clouds of salvation. Reaching reaching reaching. Reaching for the sun and the stars until I’ve gone too high and burst from the pressure. I am pieces of a popped balloon. Shredded scraps collapsing to the earth with no control, no certainty, and no care.

  My eyes climb over each word like a steep cliff with no rope to secure me. A place without a map. Connors always told me Sanctuary was a place without a map. Stupid man was more clever than he’d realized then. I read the letter several times and understand the gut punch that must have shook Selma. I’d let myself hope. I’d let myself believe. I didn’t even realize I had until it was shattered.

  I flip the paper over and see a hastily scrawled addition.

  If you’re reading this, then you’re ready. You’re strong, kid. You’re smart, too. So you gotta know that this is good news. I know you’re probably upset and think I’m crazy, but you’ll understand one day. I know you will. You’ll figure it out. I have faith in you, kid. Just because a plan goes awry or because something isn’t quite what you thought doesn’t mean it’s all over. Mull it over, kid. I’ll be waiting and when you’re ready to stop giving me the cold shoulder I’ll be here to talk. Don’t let this break you, let it fill you.

  —Connors

  Good news, huh? Good news… I make myself promise Connors that I’ll think about it. I almost laugh at how he knew how I would have reacted if he’d been here to hand me the note himself. The secret to Sanctuary. Only half-answered. The rest will just have to come with time.

  I fold the paper carefully then toss it into the fire. I watch it curl and burn, erasing the ink from its skin. Anger threatens to shake me but it can’t get a grip. The first layer of understanding already coats my bones and within it is a feeling I just can’t shake. A feeling that there still hides some secret to the north. Maybe it’s not Sanctuary, but it pulls me even so.

  Later, I promise myself. I will go north later. Right now I need Riker, I need Rosh, I need time to process everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. I need time.

  “We go south,” I accept. “But one day, I will return north. Come
Hell or high water.”

  Rosh claps her hands together, snapping the tension with the sharp sound. “Well, then welcome to the trio of thieves.”

  I smirk, feeling oddly pleased. With no further ado she tosses her empty bowl to Riker and hunkers down under a blanket. I reach for their bowls but he waves me off, taking mine instead.

  “We’ll clean up in the morning.”

  I grab my bedroll from my pack and spread it out. Exhaustion from the day sucks my body dry and fills my bones with lead. Connors has moved on and so will I. I open my eyes to glance at my new companions and find Riker staring right back at me. A shy smile curls my lips before I quickly shut my eyes and succumb to sleep. Tomorrow will be a day of change. It will be my first day as Fury and I’m anxious to see who she becomes.

  CHAPTER 30

  Weeks pass like a fistful of sand to the eyes. I’m blind to the time that folds around us. I grow older with every step. Riding hard we leave nothing but a storm in our wake with a cloud of dust to mask our escape. Blazing through towns, tearing up land like meat from the bone, we dip into Kansas with the angry sun pushing our every stride.

  I’m told we’ve reached the territory controlled by Maria Juárez, one of the three that rule The Southern Coalition. Most of the S.C. is a dustbowl of erased history but the towns we pass through are better maintained, better guarded. Connors took us on long routes, empty roads, and shantytowns when he could. We only stopped at small remnants of civilization when we really needed supplies. Now I see everything we skirted around: bustling trade and crops with armed soldiers. Rangers are everywhere in the sand cities we roll through. Doesn’t matter much, they just make our game more interesting.

  Stealing’s wrong. I hear my Momma say it, my Daddy, Hero, and Connors. They all remind me remind me remind me but I shove it aside because look where they are. I ride hard alongside Rosh and Riker as we slip in like the devil and leave with guns ablazin’ if we’re lucky. Most times we’re out before they can focus their sights and pull the trigger. Dull but far safer I suppose.

  We don’t take much more than we need and we don’t cause much fuss. Just a few supplies for ourselves, all the food we can carry on horseback, and in exchange we set a few powder kegs on fire in the garrison. Like I said, not much fuss.

  Most of what we take we dump in shantytowns for the poor wretched creatures to divide amongst themselves. Just because the S.C. has an organized hierarchy don’t mean it isn’t informal and wild. While the West is ruled with an iron fist and the East places their fate in science, the South goes back to the basics. Only the strong survive.

  Are there laws against stealing and killing? There sure are, but so long as you don’t get caught they don’t much care. If you do get caught though, well, there’s no trial. Just a noose around your neck. I was never much of a risk taker before but these two loony toons have made me one stop short of addicted.

  The sun scorches above and I wipe my brow before slapping my cap on my head.

  “You a Red Sox fan?”

  I stare at Riker with not an ounce of understanding.

  “The hat,” he says pointing to it. “That’s their baseball cap.”

  “I don’t know anything about baseball,” I tell him. “All I know is that people get far too attached and crazy over teams. Connors told me that feuds have broken out over it. So if you’re about to yell at me for sporting your team’s rival then you can just swallow down those words and shit ‘em out on the road because I don't wanna hear it.”

  Riker blinks then his face splits into a grin. “You’re a strange one, Fury.” He steers his horse closer to mine until his knee brushes my own. “And I was just curious.”

  A sharp whistle turns our heads. Rosh steers her horse around to face us and closes the distance. “We’re crossing into Missouri,” she announces. “Keep an eye out for Lucas. This is still Maria’s turf but his son is dead and he’ll be looking for you.” She eyes me darkly.

  “He can’t know who I am,” I assure her. “There’s gotta be a hundred girls who fit my description and besides, I’m not traveling with Connors anymore.”

  She looks unconvinced and concern tugs Riker’s mouth down in a small frown. “Let’s just get through quietly.”

  “I don’t see why you want to go to Indiana anyways,” I grumble quietly. “That’s square in Lucas’ hands.”

  Rosh jabs a finger at me but I don’t ease up my glare. “I have a plan and I don’t need some scrawny itch messing it up for me.”

  I gotta tell ya, I’ve had enough of her hot and cold attitude towards me. Some days she laughs at my jokes and others she’s as hostile as a rattlesnake. I steer Lady around her and go on into Missouri by myself. There’s no real markers that we’re crossing any borders unless you ride by the main roads which have signs and warnings.

  A horse pulls up alongside me and I know it’s Riker before I even turn.

  “She gets on my last nerve,” I complain.

  “Thanks! You’re swell too,” Rosh snaps.

  My heart leaps into my throat and heat flushes my cheeks. “What’s your problem?” I demand.

  “What’s yours?” she spits right back.

  “My problem is that I can’t figure you out!” I twist in my saddle to better look at her. “My problem is that one minute you’re friendly and the next you’re shooting poison darts with your eyes! What did I do exactly?”

  “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

  “If you’re dragging us on some scheme that might get us killed I think we’ve got the right to know what you’re up to.”

  “Riker trusts me and you trust Riker so leave it be.”

  I cross my arms stubbornly. “Nah uh. No way. That’s spreading the trust chain pretty thin. What are you up to, Rosh? Tell me straight.”

  Rosh ignores me for a long while but I can tell she’s considering it even if she doesn’t want to. “I wanna blow up Lucas’ house.”

  Speechless. I’m flat speechless. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me,” she snaps.

  “What I heard was crazy talk.”

  “This is why I don’t tell you stuff,” she sighs exasperated. “You would never have agreed to that first raid if we’d told you exactly what we were doing. You think too much. You work better when we just toss you into the chaos.”

  “You’re damn right I wouldn’t have,” I agree. “You two are crazy but you gave me the crazy bug and I can’t seem to shake it. I’d appreciate you not blindsiding me anymore. I’d appreciate you giving me a chance to be the loser dragging her heels.”

  “What are you saying?” Her eyes narrow shrewdly but I just smile.

  “I’m saying I’ll help. Anything to cause him trouble,” I tell her. “Thanks for asking,” I sass sweetly.

  She reaches out to cuff me upside the head but I lean out of reach and swat her hand away snickering.

  “Why doesn’t Riker ever step in when we fight?” I ask. “He really ought to, it’d save us some time and anguish.”

  “He’s afraid of us,” she grins. “Nothing turns him to jelly faster than his friends fighting. He hates getting into the middle because it’s the one place where you can never win.”

  I laugh at this. “At last! The dark warrior has a weakness!”

  Rosh laughs with me but her smile fades too quickly. “He likes you, you know.”

  “Well I’d hope so otherwise I’m not sure why he’d let me tag along with you two.”

  “No, that’s not—” She shakes her head but says nothing more. Kicking her horse to pull ahead she leaves me bewildered. Hot ‘n cold, I’m telling you.

  I don’t know if you know this but travel by anything other than a jet is slow going. Our horses are strong and they’re fast but it still takes weeks to make our journey, especially when we have to detour through a town whenever Rosh and Riker get the itch. Burning down Lucas’ house is completely crazy and rather pointless in the grand scheme of things. But that’s just it. What is the grand sc
heme? I’m riding along with two other outlaws set out to burn down the home of one of the most powerful men in the S.C. because I’ve got nothing better to do.

  I can think of no alternative. Not unless it includes me setting out on my own and leaving these two wild coyotes far behind. I probably should.

  “We’re rather aimless, aren’t we,” I muse. Lady snorts and I take that as agreement.

  “We got an aim right now, don’t we?” Riker protests.

  I look at him, really look at him. He’s untamed yet refined. He’s quick with a gun, unbelievable with his aim, he looks hard and cold but every time we talk he’s nothing but laughter and light. “What are you?” I ask suddenly.

  Riker’s eyebrows rise up high in surprise. “Human?”

  I snort. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” I look at my hands resting on the horn of my saddle. “I mean, what are you doing with your life?”

  He thinks for a moment, searching my face for the answer I’m looking for. “I don’t think that’s a question we can afford anymore, Fury. Friday night milkshakes and bowling, studying to become a doctor in a fancy New York hospital, going on vacation all over the world. Those things don’t exist anymore.

  The Western Republic is straight out of a prison pamphlet and the Rochester Alliance is everything people pondered in sci-fi flicks. But us? All of us caught in the wasteland in between? We got nothing but survival to hope for. So yeah, I wander where I want and I like to shake up the S.C. a bit to help those who can’t help their selves. Is it dangerous? Hell yeah, but it makes me feel something. Maybe I don’t care if I die so long as I die doing something.”

  I nod, sadness tingeing my edges. “So you got nothing and no one to live for.” I feel his eyes burning into me but I don’t look.

  “I got a brother,” he says at last.

  My eyes snap up to meet his. We’ve been traveling together for weeks and he still hasn’t told me how he knows me, or much of anything that comes before he met Rosh. “What’s his name?” I ask.