by R. W. Ridley
"Somebody's following us," she said.
"I know." I looked to my left and saw another amateur horseman skulking his horse behind a row of trees in the median. "I've seen two so far."
With Nate around her shoulder she carefully stepped to the back of the wagon and retrieved a crossbow. "There's a third one behind us," she said.
I turned to see a long slender figure riding a white and black spotted Tiger horse. I couldn't make out her face, but I could tell by her stance in the saddle, it was Reya. Another horse and rider joined her from the median, the kid who had no name. That meant Devlin and Miles were the ones to our sides. I pulled the wagon to a stop. Kimball barked. We both jumped off.
"What are you doing?" Lou asked.
"Stopping," I said.
"But why?"
"Because we need them."
"What for?"
"Even a warrior needs some friends to help him win his battles."
She shook her head. "These guys are losers. I don't trust them."
"We've got no choice." Kimball and I stood in the middle of the interstate behind the wagon. Reya and the other kid trotted up to me.
"Where's your monkey, horse-boy?" she said, trying to get the horse to stop. Instead of pulling back on the reins, she leaned back in the saddle and nearly fell over the mare's rear.
I tried not to laugh. "Gorilla. He's up ahead of us in Calhoun."
The other kid rode up and grabbed Reya's reins and stopped her horse. "I told you, you gotta pull back on the reins."
"I am," she snapped. She spotted Lou holding the crossbow to her side. "Your girlfriend going to shoot us?"
I turned to Lou and motioned for her to put the crossbow down. She refused. "She's not my girlfriend." Kimball started to growl. I placed my hand on his head and tried to sooth him. "Doesn't look like you're too popular around here," I said to Reya.
"What of it?" she said. She peered into the back of our wagon. "What you got in there that we might want?"
"A lot," I said, "but you can't have any of it."
"You best look at Devlin and Miles. They got something to say about that."
I looked at her two minions. They were pointing what looked like two nine-millimeter guns at us. I chuckled. "I guess you didn't get the memo. Guns don't work any more."
"The kinds that fire bullets don't," she said smugly. "But these kind shoot darts. They're air pistols."
I pointed to Lou. "In case you aren't of aware of it, arrows do a lot more damage than darts."
She looked confused. She searched and searched for a reasonable retort to my logic, but she couldn't come up with any.
The other kid climbed off his horse, "Reya will you stop trying to bully the kid."
"Shut up, Roy. I'm in charge." She shot him an evil look.
"Hell of a lot of good it's done us. We're about to starve to death." Roy walked toward me. "Look, just ignore my sister," he said. "All we really want to know is if you'll share some of your food with us."
"Sure," I said, "but why don't you just go to a grocery store and take what you need."
He looked embarrassed. "Ask her." He shot a thumb toward Reya.
"Because we're bandits," she said proudly. "We don't shop in grocery stores. We take from unsuspecting travelers."
He turned to her. "Look around, Reya. There aren't that many travelers to take from."
"What are you doing, Roy?" She hopped off her horse. "You shouldn't be undermining my authority." Devlin and Miles still had their air guns trained on us, but they were more than mildly amused by the fight between the brother and sister.
"You're a real idiot, you know that?" Roy said. "You're too busy playing bandits to know that me, Devlin, and Miles are about to fall over from hunger."
"Guys," I said, but they didn't hear me. They continued their argument.
"I suppose you think it's easy being the leader," Reya said.
"You're not the leader," Roy shouted.
I went to the wagon and pulled out a box of granola bars. I walked over and handed bars to Devlin, Miles, and Roy. All the while, Reya and Roy were arguing over her role in their troupe. I tried to hand a granola bar to Reya, but she slapped it away.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm sharing our food with you," I said.
"You are not sharing your food with us." She looked at the others in her gang. "Put those granola bars down." Devlin was just about to raise the bar to his mouth when she gave the order. He wanted to disobey, but he thought better of it. Miles followed Devlin and dropped the granola bar.
Roy looked at her defiantly. He ripped open the granola bar.
"Stop that," she said.
Roy smiled and took a bite.
"That's it. You're out of the gang."
"Fine," Roy said with his mouth full of granola. "I'd much rather ride with…" He turned to me. "What was your name?"
"Oz."
He turned back to Reya. "I'd much rather ride with Oz, anyway. At least they eat."
She let out a low frustrated scream and headed back to her mount when Devlin's horse suddenly reared. The jolt almost threw him from the saddle. He reached to grab hold of the horse's neck and inadvertently pulled the trigger on his air gun. Reya yelped and put both hands on her backside. Devlin had shot her in the right butt cheek.
Lou and I struggled not to laugh. Roy did not show the same restraint. He bent over in spasms of laughter as he watched his sister hop around the interstate trying to pull the dart from her butt.
I looked at Lou. "You better help her." Lou jumped from the wagon and handed me Nate in his sling before she walked over to Reya.
Reya was dancing in little circles now. "Get it out! Get it out!"
Lou reached her and calmly stopped Reya. The injured bandit was a full foot taller than the little warrior. "Breathe deep," Lou said holding Reya's arms and looking up at her. Reya did as requested. Lou reached around and pulled the dart from her rear end. It had penetrated fairly deep. "C'mon," Lou said, "we've got a first aid kit in the wagon."
Reya looked at Lou suspiciously. She thought about declining her offer, but realized that, given the location of her wound, riding a horse was probably next to impossible. She grudgingly limped to the wagon following Lou.
Devlin and Miles immediately jumped from their horses and picked up their granola bars. They frantically tore off the wrappers and started chomping away.
"We've got somebody waiting for us in Calhoun," I said to Roy. "You want to come along?"
He smiled and said, "Absolutely."
***
When we reached the Calhoun exit, Valerie and Tyrone were justifiably unhappy at the presence of Miles, Devlin, Roy, and Reya. Reya had ridden in our wagon on her belly the whole way, her horse tied to the back. She moaned and complained the entire way. She mostly wanted us to be aware that just because we were helping her didn't mean that she was beholden to us in any way. I assured her that we expected nothing in return.
Wes had gorged himself on three cans of chicken, and he was napping on the side of the road when we arrived. The puppies were climbing all over him licking chicken grease from his shirt.
Ajax gave our old adversaries a curious glance from the VW bus and then returned to resting comfortably. He looked terribly depressed. Valerie said she could not get him to eat. I invited Roy and the others to help themselves to any food we had. Lou was more than a little upset that I was being so nice to these self-described bandits, but I had a reason. We needed more allies. I had a feeling things were about to get a lot stickier for us.
I climbed in the back of the bus with Ajax. He had his back to me. His blanket and doll were uncharacteristically out of his reach. I grabbed them and crawled to him. I attempted to hand him the blanket and doll, but he shooed them away. "You all right, big guy?" I asked.
He huffed.
"What can we do for you to make you feel better?" It was a question my Mom had always asked me when I was feeling under the weather. Somehow it
seemed to help me. I was hoping it would do the same for Ajax.
He rolled over on his back and signed, "Bring baby to Keepers."
"We will," I said. "You should get some rest. We need you at full strength." I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm.
"Warrior friend," he signed. He cupped his huge hand and pulled me to his side. I tried to pull away, but he didn't want to let me go. After a few seconds of struggling, I gave up and lay next to him.
Minutes passed and Wes stuck his head inside the bus. "What's with these stragglers you picked up?"
I slid from a now groggy Ajax's grasp and quietly exited the VW bus. "They were hungry."
"They're bad seeds, Oz." He guided me to the back of the van. "The girl is full of piss and vinegar and the little fat one has already gone through a row of Oreos."
"We've got enough to go around."
"That ain't the point. We don't know nothing about these people…"
"Yes, we do," I said. "They've tried to rob me three times. They're bandits."
"Rob you?" He was incredulous. "What in the name of Knotty Pines are you doing letting a bunch of bandits eat our food?"
"They're not very good bandits." I laughed, but he didn't get the joke. "Look, we need all the reinforcements we can get…"
"Reinforcements?" He threw his hands up in the air. "You're letting this warrior stuff go to your head. We're one old fat redneck mechanic and a bunch of kids. We ain't warriors.
Now, I think this trip to Charleston is just a fool's errand, but you had your heart set on it, so I figured I'd come along, but this warrior talk and fightin' them Greasywhoppers is just plain dumb. There ain't no way around it. You're going to get yourself and all the others killed."
"Wes," I said as emphatically as I could without sounding angry. "This is something we have to do. I didn't want to believe it at first, but…"
"But what?" he asked.
"If we can get Nate to the Keepers, I think we can find a way to get everything back." I had tried to keep myself from believing it, but as the days went by, I was starting to convince myself that our mission wasn't just to save the Storytellers, but to restore our old world, to bring back our parents, and Wes's sister and everything else as it was before the Takers came. I had nothing more than a gut feeling, but it was a feeling I couldn't shake.
"You're nuts, boy," Wes said as he chortled at my expense. "You're just out and out nuts." He put his hands on his hips and dropped his chin to his chest. "But seeing how you're about the closest thing to a friend I got in what's left of this upside down world, I'm willing to lend you my support."
I smiled.
"That don't mean I believe a lick of this nonsense, but I got to admit, I've seen some pretty crazy things in the last couple of weeks." He massaged the back of his neck. "I guess your theory ain't any crazier."
I extended my hand and he shook it enthusiastically. We both smiled and turned to see the group of newcomers rifling through our supplies in the wagon. "You sure about these bandits of yours?" he asked.
"I'm not sure of anything," I said walking towards the wagon.
Kimball was sitting on the road watching the bandits with a distrusting glare. His ears were upright and he sniffed the air. The eight puppies had gathered around him and were playing in his shadow.
I stepped up on the wagon and perched myself on the side. "You all getting everything you need?"
Devlin and Miles didn't bother to answer. Their mouths were full with an assortment of food. Reya stood gingerly trying to pretend she wasn't enjoying the feast she had finally agreed to take part in.
Roy smiled with peanut butter on the corners of his mouth. "This sure is appreciated," he said.
"No problem." I waved his gratitude off. "Look, what are you all planning to do?"
"What do you mean?" Reya said, bitter and insolent.
"I mean do you plan on going with this bandit thing forever or do you see yourselves doing something else?" I treaded very carefully because I knew how intensely committed Reya was to her moniker of bandit.
Devlin raised his head from his frosted apple pie pocket, "What else is there?" Particles of food shot from his mouth as he spoke.
"There is nothing else," Reya snapped.
"I was thinking you might join us," I said.
"To do what?" Miles said after a long sustained belch.
"We're going to Atlanta," I said. I was beginning to get sick watching Miles and Devlin eat. They ended up wearing most of the food.
"Why Atlanta?" Roy asked.
"We don't care where you're going," Reya interrupted. "We're headed someplace else."
Miles stopped eating at hearing this news. He turned to his leader and wiped the slop from his face with his shirtsleeve. "Where we going?"
"Wherever I say," Reya said, her voice shrill yet commanding.
Roy ignored his sister's announcement. "What's in Atlanta?"
I didn't know exactly how to answer. I mapped my argument out in my head before I spoke. "We're on a mission," I said trying to sound as confident as I could. "We're going to fight the Greasywhoppers."
"What's a Greasy whopper?" Devlin asked.
"The monsters," I said.
Everyone stopped eating. They all looked at each other and then me. Roy spoke. "The things? The people-eaters?"
I nodded.
Miles slowly chewed his food. "Why would you want to do that?"
"We don't want to," I assured him. "But it's the only way we can get Nate to the Keepers."
Reya tried to remain indifferent to my story, but she couldn't contain her increasing interest any longer. "Who's Nate?
I pointed to Lou who was changing Nate's diaper. "That's Nate."
Reya laughed. "The baby?" She felt a twinge of pain coming from her dart wound. She flinched and gently rubbed her butt cheek. "We'll just go our own way. You kids go off and get your baby to your Keepers and leave us out of it."
"I'll go with you," Roy said.
Reya was enraged. "No you won't."
"Those things ate Mom and Dad, Reya. You saw them. I'm going to make them pay." The hatred was bubbling up inside of him as he spoke.
"Yeah, I saw them," she said. "There's no way we can beat them. They'll eat us, too."
"We've already beat them three times," I said.
She looked at me. "You lie."
"It's the truth," Lou said, standing with Nate in her arms.
"I don't believe it," Reya said. Her dart wound still burning. "They're too strong and too fast. I've seen them with my own eyes."
I remained as level-headed as I could. "But they only know how to do one thing, eat. We've killed four of them."
"And how many have you lost by fighting?" Reya asked, stern and unwavering in her opposition to joining us in our mission.
I thought about Stevie Spangler and his horrible muffled screams as the Taker swallowed him. "One."
"That's one too many," she said. "We'll do just fine by not fighting."
"That's not true," I said. This time I raised my voice and stood. "They brought the fight to us. They started this. Just because you don't want to fight them doesn't mean they're not going to get you. It's not a matter of 'if'. It's a matter of 'when.' We have a better chance of beating them if we take the fight to them, on our terms, than if we just sit and hope that they won't ever find us. Cowards hide, and they devour cowards."
"He's right," Roy said. "We have to stand up to them."
Reya's lower lip began to tremble. She crossed her arms in front of her and tried not to cry, but the tears slowly formed in the corners of her eyes. "They'll kill us."
"Maybe," I said. "But maybe we'll kill them."
She bowed her head. "I'm scared. I don't want to die."
Miles and Devlin were shocked by Reya's sudden admission. They had never seen her this way before. They saw her as tough and hard-nosed, but there she was, tears falling freely now, hands shaking. She was just a teenager who was running from the horrors she had
seen.
Roy approached her and put his arm around her shoulder. "We have to do this for Mom and Dad."
She looked up at him. She wanted to protest. She wanted to get her roughrider persona back, but it was gone. She was shaken to her core. She nodded and laid her head on her brother's shoulder.
I refrained from pumping my fist in the air. I didn't think it was appropriate. I looked at Devlin and Miles. They looked at each other. Eventually they shrugged their shoulders and returned to gulping down their food.
I walked over and shook Roy's hand. "Glad to have you aboard."
He only half-heartedly smiled. "Can't say I'm glad to be aboard, but if there's one thing I've been wanting to do, it's making those ugly monsters pay for what they did to my parents."
I squeezed his hand to let him know I meant what I was about to say, "We will," I said. "We will."
***
We were a caravan now, a 1972 VW bus, two Belgian horses pulling a wagon full of passengers and supplies, and four spotted Tiger horses with young unskilled riders (me included) of different degrees on their backs. Wes held back on his NASCAR driver instincts and drove at a pace we could match. Lou drove the wagon, while I took over Reya's mount, who Devlin for some reason called Chubby even though he was no bigger than the other Tiger horses. Chubby was a bit sprier than Phil and Ryder. He had the urge to run, and I had the fear that he would take off at any moment. I was a more confident rider than I was when Wes first introduced me to the horses in Manchester, but I had not experienced a horse at a spirited gallop yet, much less a full out run. I wasn't all together sure I could handle it. I gripped the reins tightly and tried to fight the run out of him, but he was raring to go.
"Might as well let him get it out of his system," Roy said. He had been shaking his head for the past fifteen minutes watching me fighting the inevitable.
I tried to think of an excuse why the horse should not run, but I could not think of anything. Finally, I just blurted out the truth. "I can't ride that well. I don't know if I can handle a run."
He guided his horse next to mine. "There's only one way to find out." He slapped Chubby on his hindquarters and whistled loudly.
The horse reared slightly and then bolted down the interstate. I spread my arms out and held loosely to the reins. The rest of my body flopped uncontrollably. We quickly passed the VW bus.
