Alarum (Walking Shadows Book 1)

by Talis Jones

  I don’t just wanna steal and survive with a side of ruckus to keep our days counting. I wanna call up the debts of those who wronged us and make ‘em pay. Then, when we’ve finished, I’ll be happy to rob the angry sun blind until fate finally cuts me down. Because it will. One day I will die and I know deep in my bones that it won’t be from old age. I’ll never sit in a rocking chair watching the sunrise with Riker’s wrinkled hand held in mine. That’s not the life we chose and knowing this is our cross to bear.

  So I take it up and I drag it as best I can. I let Riker mourn and I let my fire simmer and I force my feet to walk step after aching step towards my grand finale. I’m no seer but I’m not a fool either.

  I think long and hard.

  And I smile.

  CHAPTER 33

  3 YEARS LATER

  I found this old book once and in it some guy named Robert Frost wrote, “Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire.”

  Well, the earth is scorched sure enough, but what’s left is a cold desolate place devoid of trust or kindness. Flames may have licked our homes and cradled the land in its cruel hands, but ice has frozen the heart of this world. An ice with no thaw in sight.

  So I’m gonna take my gun and my rage and I’m gonna keep shooting 'til it cracks. I’m gonna stare down that angry sun 'til one of us blinks. I’m gonna scream my hopes and disappointments into the wind until I feel something.

  If it weren’t for Riker I don’t think I’d have a heart left at all. It would’ve hardened and weathered down to dust long ago. But for all my darkness Riker is full of light and he shines it on me, chasing the shadows away and keeping my small heart beating in its warmth.

  Three years since Rosh died and three years since Connors was killed too. We bide our time on this earth stealing and kicking up a frenzy behind us. An old woman once called us Robin Hood and Little John. I don’t know who they are but by the way she said it I know she was mistaken.

  We bust open supply stores with a wild yell. We blow up checkpoints with glee in our eyes. We don’t stop moving under the sun, we ride hard and cling to life by our fingertips just to feel something. Only at night under the stars do we finally quieten enough to think.

  Thinking’s dangerous. If you let your mind speak too much you’ll have to hear all the things it’s screaming at you.

  For a while now I’ve been riding alone yet I can’t get used to it. My thumb twirls the little metal band of promise Riker gave me. A nervous habit, but it’s one that comforts me nonetheless.

  You’d think Texas was far enough away but apparently their network is better than we’d thought and the news had traveled fast. We’d had to split up, Riker in the Grounder and me on a stolen horse. We planned to meet up in two days and I’d waited five until I knew he wasn’t coming. I’d proved myself good at sneaking around so I wandered into the nearest garrison under the light of the moon every night until I’d gleaned what I needed. I grabbed my horse and set off putting plans into place.

  As I ride the memory of the Tennessee Corral up in flames brings a stillness to my heart and a smile paints my face, full and unapologetic. We’d been upping the bounty on our heads with every passing day but this had been a major hit and the Rangers threw us to the top of their list. The Corrals provide a major source of labor and income for them. And we crushed its ashes beneath our boots. Well, once Riker’s back by my side there’ll be plenty more where that came from.

  Shouts break me from my reverie and I squint behind my glasses at the concrete walls rising up from the horizon like claws reaching through sand. I guide my horse a bit further into the scrubby trees to stay out of their sights. Between here and there lies a flat open bed of desert. There won’t be any approaching the prison without their knowing. Sliding off my nameless steed I tie its reigns on a branch then hoist a heavy duffle over my back cinching it close and tight.

  Scuttling towards the one road that goes in and out I wait hidden in the shadows. I wait for a truck to amble by…I wait and wait and just when I’m sick of waiting I see it coming. I lucked out, it’s a prisoner wagon.

  My eyes lock onto my target and I watch it slow as it approaches the outer gate. While the guards exchange commands I roll out from the bushes and under the wagon. I reach up with my toes and fingers clinging to the frame tightly with every ounce of strength and wishes I have within me. Careful not to let my butt or the duffel drag too low where it might be seen I wait for the truck to get moving.

  Little drops of sweat mark our path like breadcrumbs only God can see but I mange to hold on. Once we’ve trundled into the loading bay I wait for the prisoners to stumble out and cause the expected sort of ruckus and protests. With the guards distracted I move swiftly. Rolling out I hide behind a stack of crates. Dancing on my toes from one shield to another I dance my way around the outer workings of the prison where there’s less security leaving little gifts behind as I go.

  3…2…1…BOOM.

  Walls come down and people shout in panic but I leave them behind seizing the distraction to finally get inside. Snagging a uniform from a fallen guard I hurry my way in. The S.C. might not have all the bells and whistles that Rochester or even the Confederation have but I still can’t just waltz right in and out as I please.

  Pushing through the frenzied throng of guards heading towards the calamity I’m careful to keep my eyes low and shaded beneath my cap. Kicking open the doors to the cell units I descend the stairs like I’m flying. Prisoners raise hell at the sight of me, pleading, jeering, or just shouting nonsense simply enjoying the mayhem of it all. Two guards remain at their posts and I sprint past them taking one down with a swift snap and the other with a tuck that causes him to trip over me where I nail him to the ground with a knife from my boot. Finally on the lowest level I wind through the simple layout until I reach the high security chamber.

  Here a giant brute of a man blocks my path. His shock at my sudden presence quickly slithers into a condescending leer but I have no time to care. Flicking two daggers from my sleeves into my palms I rush him like a bull landing one blade in his gut. Quickly twisting onto his back like an agile monkey I glide my other knife across his throat then dart down the hall before his body even crashes to the floor.

  My eyes leap from cell to cell until I find prisoner 187451-594. There! I run over and look through the slot in the door. I lock sights with a set of deep brown eyes that stare back at mine in pure shock. Wasting no time I take out a device of old tech that can cut through steel. It’s cordless but it’s low on juice, plus it’s old so who knows how well it’ll work. I nicked it from the garrison I’d staked out but that doesn’t promise anything.

  I hold it up and mash the green button. An almighty roar tears through my ears and I force myself to focus. Carefully I touch its blade to the door practically stumbling as it slides through like butter. Giddy with relief I begin cutting a hole large enough to crawl out of. And, predictably, the power runs out before I’ve finished. Seriously??

  Chucking it aside I look around. The hole was nearly finished, I just need something to knock it through. Something something something yes! I dash down the hall and return carrying the nose of a modified water cannon probably used for riot control. I yell for Riker to get out of the way and aim, spreading my legs to keep myself anchored. With a steadying breath I activate the hose.

  The immediate burst of pressure slams my back against the wall and I fumble to shut it off before it’s torn from my grip. Slumped on the ground, wet and exhausted, I haul myself up in time to see Riker crawling through the hole I’d torn in the door. He rushes over, grabs my hand, and we’re off tearing through the halls.

  I lead him towards the exercise yard and lob another freshly lit bundle of dynamite behind us. The blast knocks us to our knees but we’re back up and running as the shattered walls collapse taking a guard tower down with it. I toss Riker a pair of wire cutters and he climbs the fence with a runn
ing leap. Soon he’s at the top cutting away a section of barbed steel wire so we can hop over and down. Thank goodness they don’t have the means to power its electricity.

  Shouts chase after us as I start to climb after him. Hanging on with one hand and my toes barely gripping the links I whip out a gun, twisting so I can lock our pursuers in my sights. I pick ‘em off like cans on a ledge and shout at Riker to hurry the hell up as I spy a whole team of guards racing towards us from the undamaged part of the prison. They have to cross the entire field to reach us but their guns sure don’t.

  Shoving my gun back in my pocket I start climbing like my life depends on it, which it does. Riker’s already dropping down over the other side but I’m only just beginning my descent when the guards start firing. A bullet lands close enough to graze my upper hand and I lose my grip but I can’t catch myself in time and soon I’m falling off the thirty-foot fence…

  Oomf! The force of my fall knocks Riker to the ground but he catches me. Yanking him up we run. Bullets dance by our feet but soon enough we’re out of range and racing for the hills. I guide us to my horse and he leaps up behind me. Digging in my heels the beast launches forwards already anxious to bolt from the noise of the explosions.

  As the sun finally sets our shoulders ease a bit. We managed to shake our tail and by now our trail would be turning cold. The tracks we didn’t hide would be disappearing under the winds and shifting sands that plague these parts. Quickly we find a sheltered spot to make camp. With our adrenaline all burned up exhaustion pulls us down.

  “Thanks,” Riker whispers.

  “Of course,” I shrug, unloading my bags from the horse.

  Riker grabs my shoulders and fixes me with a stare. “No, Fury. I mean it.”

  “Well you didn’t think I’d just leave you there,” I laugh.

  Something flickers through his eyes but it’s quickly covered by disbelief and a tinge of shame. “Actually, I sorta did. Not because you’d want to but because it’d be stupid and reckless and impossible to do anything about it.”

  I roll my eyes. “Ye of little faith.”

  “Well it was,” he chides.

  “Was what?”

  “Stupid and reckless.”

  “Ah, but not impossible, mon ami.”

  Riker shakes his head as if he still can’t believe it had worked. That we were actually standing here and not both locked up or chained before a firing squad. “I love you, Fury,” he laughs breathily.

  “Well I hope that means if I get caught that you’ll come up with an escape plan for me.”

  Riker smiles. “Fury, I would fight through the nine circles of Hell for you.”

  My mouth smiles back at him warm and pleased. If I’m honest I can’t believe my foolish plan worked either. Now Maria and Lucas will be after our blood. I should be worried, more afraid than before, but I wait and the fear doesn’t come. Something in me has an inkling that purpose is just on the horizon, my future, my legacy, my final stand. It’s coming.

  It’s coming.

  And I wait…

  But still the fear does not come.

  CHAPTER 34

  I tap my foot impatiently. Riker had insisted on fetching the Grounder, it looked like junk when we found it but we scavenged some parts and it runs even wilder than the original. Designed for desert travel, speed, and endurance, finding it half buried in a junk yard had been a stroke of luck. Of course it hurt to let Lady and Horse go free but I prayed every day that they got to stay free and roaming to their heart’s content. They didn’t need to be a part of our dangerous shenanigans and truth be told we were much faster traveling by machine than by beast.

  The only downside was we had to venture into the bigger cities and towns to find fuel. The chemical concoction vehicles need to run on isn’t something we can just whip up, and while such machines are uncommon these days they aren’t rare. The Rangers have a whole fleet of them at their disposal. Lucas prefers horses though because like I said, having to track down fuel stations can be a pain.

  Riker rode my horse to wherever he’d hidden the Grounder insisting I stay behind to be surprised. He’d seemed so excited I’d let him get away with it. But now here I stand, alone, unamused, and tired of waiting. And if that son of a gun doesn’t show up in ten minutes I’m gonna—

  …You gotta slug through the mud! Fight to be the cream of the crop! Oh, it’s a long way to the top…

  A reluctant smile curves my lips as music blares through the desert barreling towards me wild and fast. Folding my arms I plant my feet and smooth out my features, my head tilted with no grin stretching my face. I look cold and impassive. Closer, closer, closer…

  …Gettin’ knocked around and ripped off! Oh it'll never stop! But if you make a stand, it'll be by your own hand...

  Tires eat up the reddish Texan dirt and head straight for me but still I watch coolly. Excitement and relief bubble together inside of me until finally I break my façade and laugh as I hear Riker’s wild dulcet tones singing along. Ever since he got the radio working he’d been singing himself hoarse behind the wheel. Sometimes he’ll claim the passenger seat just so he can tap out the instrumentals or play air-guitar while he performs for the audience that’s no more than cacti, dust, a few frightened creatures, and that steady ol’ angry sun. And me.

  Closer, closer, closer…

  Choking me in a huge cloud of dust Riker hits the breaks stopping a mere foot away from my legs. Grateful for the cloth that covers my nose and mouth I step through and walk over to the driver’s side. No doors on this rig. Riker’s sitting there grinning like a kid as he belts out the ending. Then I punch him in the arm. Hard.

  “Ow! What the hell was that for?” he cries while he reaches over and turns down the volume knob.

  I yank down my bandana. “For almost running me over. For getting caught. For insisting we needed this foolish contraption in the first place, and for leaving me alone in the middle of nowhere to wait,” I growl, but I can’t help the smile that completely undermines my anger.

  Hopping onto the ground he pulls me tight in a hug. “Thanks for rescuing me,” he whispers. “Kid, it’s a long way to the top—”

  I push him away. “There’s no ‘top’ Riker,” I chide him.

  “Aw come on, “ he sighs playfully. “Let me have my dream.” He shakes his head at my unwavering frown. “You’ve been spending too long with the cacti, Fury. It’s turned you prickly.”

  “I’ve always been prickly,” I grumble.

  “But,” he continues, “I have something that will cure you. Instantly.” He gives me a mischievous knowing look and suddenly I’m uneasy.

  “Don’t you dare,” I warn him.

  “What? There’s no one but us out here.”

  “I said no, Riker.”

  “And I say that while it’s your job to keep us sharp and cool, it’s my job to keep you warm and living.”

  He reaches into the car and turns the volume knob back up loud. Cooper Halcón, the host of this station, finishes his monologue of “news” and then the next song begins. He must’ve announced the hour’s set list or Riker couldn’t have known what would play next, what would crack me. The band chants us in then the guitarist busts out a resistance-shattering solo ushering in the melody and crushing my resolve.

  Adventure seeker strolling down the street…

  I’m already singing and my body’s already dancing in character as I fix my eyes on Riker’s and start performing for my audience of one. He loves to hear me sing but I get instant stage fright even in front of him, but whenever this song cycles on the radio it’s like I become its puppet unable to refuse. Riker leans against the metal frame of the Grounder and as I belt out the chorus he finally whips out his air-guitar and joins me in the performance of a lifetime.

  …A young fighter smiling, with no fear or doubt…

  Never in a million years would I have ever foreseen this happening in my life. Never. Even if the world hadn’t fallen apart I’d never have
believed anyone could do this to me.

  …Here’s to the future! To the kids breaking free...

  But here we are filling this empty desert of death and dust with music from so long ago none of those folks are still breathing but I bet even in death they’re playing these soul-shifting melodies on their bones.

  As the song fades out we look at each other panting and grinning like kids.

  “Where to, madam?” he asks, sweeping himself into a low bow.

  My grin fades and an answer niggles in my brain. “Missouri,” I answer slowly.

  Riker tilts his head. “Missouri?” he asks quizzical. “What’s in Missouri?”

  “That village Connors and I sheltered at for the winter,” I remind him.

  “The hippie hideaway?”

  I punch his arm playfully. “Shut up.”

  Riker raises his hands defensively. “Hey, you said it first.”

  “And it’s true, but I’m the only one allowed to make fun of it.” I smile, “Well, at least until you see it for yourself.”

  “May I ask why you want to go back there? Won’t they put your head on a stick in retribution or something?”

  I know he’s referring to the deaths I left them and my fear of facing their judgment has kept me far away. But I need to see them. “I’ve got a question for the old man.”

  “You said he was dead.”

  “He is. But that doesn’t mean he can’t give me a few answers.”

  Riker muses over my words for a moment then nods. “Then to Missouri we shall go.”

  CHAPTER 35