Alarum (Walking Shadows Book 1)

by Talis Jones

  ILLINOIS.

  We drift into a town large enough to have fuel for our Grounder. First we swing by a store to pick up some clothes for Bones and food that is not beans.

  “How about this?” Bones asks.

  “No.”

  “This?”

  “No.”

  “Come on, Fury,” he complains. “You gotta pick something.”

  “Just get whatever you want.”

  “That wasn’t the game,” he pouts.

  “I never agreed to play,” I remind him.

  “Please?” Bones makes a ridiculous grin that stretches his face like a crazed chimp.

  “Alright,” I relent. I browse the small selection of costumes on the shelf. “Here, this one’s for you.”

  He takes it and laughs. “A sheriff? Okay, well this is yours.”

  I take the package and grimace at the picture. “Really?”

  “Really really.”

  “Alright. What’ll we get for Riker?”

  Bones puzzles his options real hard then with a shout of triumph he whips a costume off the shelf. He holds it out for me to see and I laugh so hard my hands shake as I pay the shop owner. Riker meets us out front with a bag of goods.

  “We got you something,” I say nonchalantly.

  Riker grins. “Really?”

  “Yep,” Bones smiles. “We all got something.”

  Once we’re back to the Grounder on the outskirts of town Bones passes out our gifts and we spread apart to change.

  “Ready?” Bones calls. “Come on out!”

  One by one we circle to the front of the Grounder and my mouth falls open. Stunned the air is knocked right out from my lungs then the moment breaks and I’m bent in half laughing hard enough to cry a river of tears. Bones is down on the ground rolling with laughter.

  “What?” Riker asks playfully. “I thought I looked good!”

  I can hardly glance at him without keeling over. Riker, normally a man with looks that make you clutch your purse tight and watch him warily pass you by, stands there with a polka-dot oversized bowtie around his neck, a colorful striped vest over his dark shirt, silly ballooning pants slipped over his black ones. And best of all he even put the foam red spherical nose on top of his own. Riker, a circus clown.

  Bones dusts himself off and stands proud decked out in a brown leather vest with a sheriff’s star pinned on front. Leather chaps are wrapped around his jeans and a miniature Stetson adorns his head held on by a piece of string tied beneath his chin.

  “You look great, Bones,” I smile.

  He puts his fists on his waist and poses looking utterly thrilled. “I know!”

  Riker eyes my costume and closes his eyes for a moment as if trying to gain his composure. “Fury, you are a vision.”

  “Shut up,” I warn, but my mouth betrays me by letting a smile wriggle out. Covering my tough exterior is a dress of gauzy purple fabric with little flowers sewn on in a scattered pattern climbing up the skirt to cluster on the simple bodice. A crown of fake flowers circles my brow and a pair of small sparkly wings decorate my back.

  The packets were so coated in dust I’ve no idea how long they slept on the shop’s shelves but I gotta say it was worth the cash.

  Riker claps his hands together. “Okay, well time to fuel up and hit the road.”

  They forego the radio and belt out a song about a Rattlin' Bog, singing faster and faster as we traverse lands of dust and dried up hopes. This time I sing with them. This time it doesn’t seem so hopeless out in this place of nothing. This time the sun doesn’t seem quite so angry.

  WISCONSIN.

  Time races by and we manage to stay happy. Bones might be well versed in a hell made up of drugs, test tubes, electric shocks, and doctors, but he doesn’t know about the hell that gave birth to Riker and me. He doesn’t know about the slave trade, the gunslingers, the starvation, the dust that was once homes and families and memories.

  We play his games, we sing his songs, we make sure he gets fed, and we tell him stories. He’s older than I was when I had to face the darkness of this place but for now let him have a rest. Let him feel that cooling rush of relief that he’s left the life of a lab rat far behind. Let him spend his days making happy memories that can carry him through when life gets tough again. I hope Sanctuary will care for him but even if it’s heaven this world won’t change. I can’t give him much but I can give him this. I stretch the ignorant bliss for as long as I can.

  Bones isn’t an idiot. He never was. He was just playing along. He thought he was doing it for me just like I was doing it for him.

  “So are you ever going to teach me how to shoot a gun?” Bones asks, popping his face between ours in the Grounder.

  “What do you need a gun for?” Riker asks.

  I keep my hands on the wheel and my eyes on the road but my ears are locked onto Bones behind me. “If you need a gun then we’re not doing our job well,” I tell him.

  “I’m not saying I need one now,” Bones clarifies. “But one day I’ll need to, right?”

  “Now what makes you think that, Bones?”

  “Come on, Riker. I’m not stupid. Almost everyone we’ve seen, which is a surprisingly low population number I must say, has a gun strapped to their sides.”

  “Almost everyone,” Riker points out. “Kids don’t get guns.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “But it’s safe.”

  “Come on, can I at least carry one and pretend I know how to use it?” he pleads.

  “Uh, no that’s actually a worse idea,” Riker chokes. “Never hold a weapon you’re not ready to handle.”

  “This one doesn’t look too complicated,” Bones whines pulling a shotgun from our cache in the back. My shotgun. Connors’ shotgun. Katya’s shotgun. My foot slams on the breaks and the Grounder lurches to a painful halt that throws us against the backs of our seats.

  “Fury!” Riker snaps annoyed.

  I ignore him. Jumping out of the Grounder I circle to the back and pop open the door and stare down at Bones with hardness in my eyes. “Give me my damn gun.”

  He hands it over with shaking hands and I snatch it from him.

  “Now climb up front with Riker,” I order. He squeezes into the front while Riker slides over behind the wheel. I crawl into the back and slam the door shut. Riker eases the Grounder back into motion and we sit in uneasy silence.

  Minutes pass by before Bones speaks up. “Are you still mad at me, Fury?” he whispers hesitantly.

  “I’m not mad,” I bite. I force myself to take a deep breath. “Don’t touch a gun until you’ve been taught how to use it, okay? I don’t want you accidentally blasting your face off. Or mine.”

  “Why is that gun so important to you?” he asks.

  “I don’t want to tell you right now.”

  Bones pauses then slumps back in his seat. “Okay.”

  MINNESOTA.

  Bones must have finally cornered Riker all alone and used his hypno-thing to make him spill the beans. Or maybe Riker told him with his own free will. All I know as I see them come back to our small camp long after the sun has already set is that the beans were spilled. Ever since I scared him about touching my shotgun Bones has been subtly pestering us for information about ourselves. He gives up bits of his own past trying to entice us but I don’t budge.

  Riker doesn’t look me in the eye and Bones seems buried in thoughts. I ignore them both. Rolling over in my bedroll I leave my dinner untouched. Even though we got Bones a bedroll of his own this is the first night since we escaped that Riker hasn’t shared mine. I need to be alone for a night, even if I hate it. I knew Bones would find out about the world sooner or later, I just didn’t want him knowing about mine.

  As morning tousles my hair I peek open my eyes to spy who else has been woken by the sun. While Bones wanders off to pee Riker settles down beside me. “I needed someone to know.” I look at him confused. “When we’re dead and gone, I want someone to remember us. Who
we were, what we did. I don’t know why it matters to me but it does.”

  “I get it,” I sigh. “I guess I just wanted him to stay ignorant and happy a little longer.”

  “Ignorant and dead, more like,” Riker says gently. “But do you know what’s funny?”

  I lean against his shoulder. “What?”

  “I was only gonna tell him my story. I thought you should tell your own. But he kept asking about you. Turned into a downright pest. So, I told him our story from the beginning. I told him how I came from Chicago and how you came from Pennsylvania and how we both ended up in Tennessee until we got separated but how eventually our paths crossed again.”

  “You told him all that?”

  “Yep.”

  “I was mad at you last night,” I confess.

  “Oh. I know,” he assures me. “I could feel the chill from the other side of the firepit.”

  “Shut up.” I elbow him and he stops his chuckling. “I’m trying to say that I was mad at you but I’m more mad at myself for not telling Bones on my own. If he’s gonna survive here then he needs to know what kind of place he’s been dragged into.”

  “I’m sorry I shared your secrets,” Riker apologizes solemnly.

  I shrug. “I’d rather you did than me, honestly.”

  “Fury,” Bones calls. I turn around and see that he’s returned and he’s staring at me like he’s struggling to swallow. “Can I please call you Momma?”

  I’ll never understand children’s psychology because I’m downright confused. Who’d want a monster for a mother? But he's caught me off-guard so I shrug. “If you insist.”

  “What and I don’t get to be called Pops? Dad? Father? Papa? Daddy-O?” Riker complains.

  “Nope,” Bones denies him. “You’re more like a cool older brother.”

  “Awesome,” he grins.

  “Hey. Hey! Wait what does that mean? I’m not a cool older sister?”

  “Nah,” Riker teases. “You’re far too sweet and loving and caring and maternal.” I punch him in the arm a bit harder than is friendly. “Hey! Mommas don’t hit their kids.”

  “Some do,” I say. “Some kids need a little sharp reminder to give respect to their elders.”

  “Bones! Bones! Save me! She’s mean!”

  Bones comes rushing over laughing and to my complete surprise he tackles me onto my back and soon all three of us are rolling in the dirt laughing.

  NORTH DAKOTA.

  We cross into North Dakota at sunrise. Following the rough map of clues and landmarks we ride the Grounder as far as it can go until it finally runs dry. Not a lot of fuel stations in the Unclaimed Territories. None, actually. Leaving the heap of metal behind we forge onwards on foot. It’s slow going but if the old man was right then this place’s drop point isn’t too far from the border anyway.

  North. North we trudge, shriveling under the dying sun, dust settling in the cracks of our skin and sticking to our sweat. A hot teasing breeze pulls strands of hair loose from my braid and I push them aside. Riker and I are loaded like pack mules with the bare necessities: water, food, and lots of bullets for our guns.

  “Are we almost there?” Bones whines weakly. His steps are slow and his pale skin curdles under the brutal relentless heat.

  “Gotta be,” I pant.

  “Just keep your eyes open for that funny rock formation in the shape of book stacks,” Riker encourages him.

  The Library, the old man called it. Named such because the rocks look like a maze of giant book stacks. I pull my mask up willing my sweat to act like glue to keep it in place and protect my mouth and nose from the eddies and swirls of dust that chase us. I keep my eyes almost closed, a part of me afraid that the sun will take away the vision I was given. I’m not ready to give up my eyes.

  Flat, flat, FLAT. FLAT FLAT FLAT. The word screams and echoes in my mind as we walk towards a horizon that never gets closer. FLAT FLAT FLAT FLAT FL— I swing my arm out and Riker stops, Bones bumping wearily into him.

  “I see it,” I breathe. “It’s gotta be it.” In the distance shadows stretch from little imperfections in the once perfectly flat horizon.

  We lurch forwards with a renewed energy in our steps and as an hour crawls by it’s clear that I was right. Riker lets out a whoop and Bones does a ridiculous little dance. I say nothing but push onwards refusing to stop until we’ve arrived.

  Another hour brings the sun lower in the sky and our destination closer to arrival. It’s clear as day and the old man was right, it does look like rock carved into stacks of books. Sanctuary must be near. I cast my gaze about but see nothing besides dust lands surrounding this one blip in the terrain. More rocky features break up the flat earth far in the distance and vaguely I wonder if that’s where they hide.

  We arrive. No one meets us. We set up camp. We wait.

  We wait.

  …and wait…

  …and wait…

  CHAPTER 48

  A full bag of hours pour out into the scales and we wait as we count them. One…two…twelve…twenty-two…forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven… We watch with anxiety burning holes in our gut, pooling sweat in our palms and on our brows, pulling our muscles taut, and tick tick tick time goes on.

  “Maybe we got the location wrong,” Riker reasons, stress coloring his tone red.

  “We didn’t get it wrong,” I snap.

  “Maybe there’s some sort of signal we’re supposed to show so they know we’re friendly,” he suggests tiredly. “Or maybe they’re gone, Fury. You have to admit it’s pos—”

  “They’re not gone.” I scan the horizon, hands on my hips, searching for any sign of ambassadors from Sanctuary or whatever the hell it is we’re supposed to be waiting at this precise spot for. It makes sense that we’d have to wait. Once they notice us they’d likely want to keep a spy nearby just to make sure we’re not coming to them with bad intentions. But our supplies are low and we’re all feeling a bit desperate. With as much trouble as we’ve left in our wake I want to pass off the kid to Sanctuary then burrow down in a hole until the coming storm blows past.

  “Fury,” Bones calls uncertainly.

  I turn to him and find what’s caught his attention. Just in reach of our sight a cloud of dust tumbles toward us. “It’s them,” I breathe. “Riker! It’s them!”

  Riker jumps to his feet rushing to our side peering at the company charging towards us. Relief sweeps through us and I laugh as Riker swings Bones around in the air. They’re coming. They’ve seen us and they’re finally coming.

  We scramble to pack everything up, tucking it all into a tidy pile by one of the rock columns except for Bones’ bag with his bedroll strapped to it. I help slip it onto his shoulders and to my surprise he wraps his thin arms around my middle crushing his face against me in a fierce hug.

  “I’m gonna miss you, Bones,” I smile hugging him back.

  “Are you sure you can’t come with me?” He asks, his words muffled against my belly.

  “Nah, we gotta lot of heat on our hides,” I explain again. “Once things cool off and we’re sure they’ve lost interest then we’ll come back to see ya.”

  Pulling away from me he fixes me with a stare and I feel that strange tingle as he commands me with one burdensome question. “Do you promise?”

  I look into his eyes, brown now, as I answer. “I promise.”

  “Fury,” Riker calls me sharply.

  I step out from the warmth of Bones’ embrace and jolt to Riker’s side at once. “What is it?”

  “I don’t think that’s them.”

  “What do you…” my voice trails off as I see exactly what he means. The convoy is closing the distance swiftly and their blue uniforms come into view. Rangers. “And who’s joining them?”

  The Rangers ride from the south but a small group clad in white ride beside them. Not a minute later a third group flanks their other side dressed in black with red stripes down their pants. I laugh. I can’t help it. I start laughing and laughing and I j
ust can’t believe my shitty luck.

  Behind me Riker gives Bones a swift hug. “Run,” he orders. Bones only hesitates long enough to make my throat catch with the thick worry in his eyes. “Hide,” Riker urges harder. “And don’t you dare come out unless we tell you it’s safe.” He gives Bones a shove, rough enough to break his reluctance and send him running for the maze of rocks.

  “What if Sanctuary doesn’t come for him?” I ask Riker quietly, hardly daring to admit the thought.

  “Then he’ll take what we’ve taught him and he’ll survive.” Riker tosses me two handguns and a pack of shells for the shotgun slung comfortingly against my back. He loads two pistols and a rifle for himself. I check the cylinders then chew my lip. The dust clouds grow larger like they want nothing more than to swallow me up and the sun bares down angrier and more gleeful than ever before like it’s been waiting for this day since it first saw me born.

  “Fury,” Riker nudges me gently. “They will come.”

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

  Riker smiles. “That’s my line.”

  I smile back. “A thief until the end.”

  “Us or them, Fury.”

  “Nah, it’s Bones or them.”

  Riker nods.

  Hooves pound the earth like a demon’s drum. The small rocky dirt jumps and rattles with every beat.

  He holds my gaze as the earth trembles beneath our feet. “Sofia.” My name slips out like a whispered prayer.

  My lips quirk up but I know my eyes are only somber. “Gabriel.”

  A blast of heat and dust hits us and I yank my cloth mask over my mouth and nose.

  Roars chanting for our souls fill my ears and I swallow back my fear one drop at a time. Let them come. I’ll shoot every damn bullet in my pocket while I’m breathing and cast every damn curse when I’m not. I knew I’d never grow old, it wasn’t the path I had chosen. But I can make a final stand to show myself who I am, what truths will be carved into my gravestone, and what stories will be crooned over fires.