by BA Tortuga
“I will. I have to be careful, Ez, or they’ll know I’m here too.”
“Do what you gotta do, man.” Ez clapped him on the back before leading both their horses away.
Jesse took his bag and wandered away from the bustle, from the lights, focusing on that weird little buzz promising connection. The stories were, before the earth broke apart into a million pieces, everyone was connected. No one had to search for spots. The world was a single, living piece of information.
Then the quakes had started.
He’d seen images on the Flow, of the first quakes. The coast went first, then the far East, just disappearing into the oceans. It hadn’t stopped there. He’d seen the remains of ancient roads, the black crags jutting up as if they were shattered mountains. The steel and glass buildings like jagged teeth.
Crazy, how the world could change, just because of some cracks deep in the earth.
He found a deep, wide fissure in the earth and the buzzing in his port got stronger, so he slipped in, searching for that echo, that promise. There were places, they said, where there were communities of Grounders, groups of them living together under the earth. They risked the aftershocks, the rains, to come together and—
There.
His eyes closed as a buzzing rang through his head, and he slipped his port in, brain searching for a way in. Yes. Tiny, but the connection was there, and as he followed it, the single bee turned into a swarm.
Jesse sank to the dirt as he dived in, leaving the soreness and the dust and the people behind. Oh. Oh, better. Magic.
He’d lied just a little when he told Ez it wasn’t magic, it was just technology. Not everyone could do this. Not everyone could dive in and find their way back. They lost dozens, every day, bodies left empty while their consciousness stayed inside. He’d never been that lost, but in the world they lived in, he could see how someone would just want to run away.
This got into your nerves, into your blood and the very meat of a man. Jesse craved it, the wash of it in his soul. No amount of dancing with the tribes, no amount of peyote and pipe could give him this.
The Flow was…oh, what was that?
He saw something interesting and followed it, murmurings about cattle. About Denver. It was like a little rabbit hole with a psychedelic bunny.
Oh, rabbits.
Look at that.
No. No getting distracted.
No floating off. Floating off was bad. Especially with him having a job to do. Job. Ez. God, it was a buzzkill.
When he thought of Ez, it was as if little fishes were nibbling around the edges of his mind. Shh. Shh. He relaxed, gathering the questers around him, trapping them. Then he started sorting through, seeing who was really poking.
Most of them were people interested in cattle, but two, they were looking for land. They were looking for Ezrah.
Damn. He pulled back, not wanting to give himself away. He couldn’t believe old man Chastain was using Grounders.
He slipped into his body, unplugging reluctantly. He really wanted to stay plugged in, but he wouldn’t put Ez in more danger.
Lord knew how much time had passed when he crawled out, heading to the fires that dotted the prairie. Jesse blinked, trying to reconcile the two worlds. Man, he’d been down awhile.
He sat down, hard, his legs reminding him he was real, physical. Gracious. He hoped there were no snakes.
Or big bugs.
Coyotes.
Ravenous night-dwelling desert chickens.
“Are you gonna come eat?” He could suddenly smell a cigarette, and Ez loomed over him.
“Uh-huh. You’re not a chicken.”
“Nope.” Ez cocked his head to one side. “Bawk.”
“Very nice.” He stared at Ez, but his legs were just noodles.
“Gimme your hand.” Ezrah pulled him up, then slung him over one shoulder as if he weighed nothing.
“Ez!” Shit, the man was strong.
“What? You’re like a greenhorn, you been living underground so long.” Ez wasn’t just strong. He was hot as fire and smelled of horse and sweat. Not an unpleasant combination. Manly.
“You’re carrying me. These yahoos are going to beat me down.”
“Anyone who tries will have to go through me. I have rage, Jess.”
Ezrah put him down next to a fire, a single tent, the dark green Ez’s mom’s favorite color. There was no one around to give them shit, and their chow was already there in a covered Dutch oven.
He could smell the stew, rich and savory, and the scent took him home, in a sudden, painful rush. God, how long had it been since he’d had real food?
Sweat popped out over his skin, leaving him chilled, shaking.
Ez eased him down on the dirt, then went to dip him a cup of water. “Here, man. You need to drink more.”
“Thank you.” The water was sweet, clean.
“You’re welcome.” Ezrah sat across from him, staring a little.
“They want your land. You know that, though.”
“I do. I’m not sure why except we’re the last holdout.”
“You’re the one at the mouth of the river. You have control of the dam.” It really was that simple, right?
Ezrah blinked, as if that hadn’t even occurred to him. Maybe it hadn’t. The boys’ momma was still alive, and she and their dad had always run things. Besides, if it had always been yours, you didn’t think about it.
“Shit. No wonder. God. Mom.” Ezrah looked downright gray.
“She’s got to have folks with her, doesn’t she? Someone?” Surely Ez wouldn’t leave her without protection.
“I left my most trusted men with her, except Cyrus. I just figured they’d come after me. She’s not a rider; she’s not going to be out with the cattle. He’d have to come right up to the front door of the house and kill her in cold blood. You can’t do that.”
“Then they’ll hold it there. If he’s hunting you, he’s looking to take the land without the sheriff involved, without the law. There is still some back home.”
There wasn’t a lot of law in the world, but there was more where Ez lived than in this desert. Enough of a society left where they wouldn’t just murder an old woman in her parlor.
Nodding, Ezrah sighed. “I just can’t lose anyone else, Jess. I just can’t. Christ, Em had his whole, long life ahead of him. We’re just starting.”
“Well, Ez. You’re down to one family member, a bunch of drovers and me. There’s not much left to lose.”
Ezrah’s mouth flattened into a straight line. “I should never have gotten you into this.”
“But you did, and I came.” And he wasn’t useless, right? He’d already given Ez more to think about than not.
He had skills. Talents.
“I appreciate it more than I can say.” Rising, Ez came to sit next to him, dishing out bowls of stew. “I’m selfish enough to be glad you’re here.”
“We were friends, once upon a time. Good friends. I wouldn’t turn you down, even though neither you or Em seem to have done your duty and giving your momma grandbabies.”
“Grandbabies? I ain’t… We weren’t. I just rounded twenty a few years ago.”
“Uh-huh. Still, you’re the oldest.” Jesse winced. Oh, that had been Em. Damn.
“Thanks.” Ezrah touched him, just a simple hand on his leg, but it sent a shock of electricity through him.
His body reacted immediately, instinctively, and he fought the urge to pounce, to take the hard, needy kiss he craved. He wanted. This wasn’t another Grounder, though, someone who could let go of all the old prejudices. This wasn’t a connection inside where he came back to reality, his body covered in seed.
This was sun-lit life, and men didn’t do that, especially not cowboys.
Ez glanced at him sideways. “You okay? You jumped about a mile.”
“I’m good, good. Someone walked over my grave, is all.”
“Oh.” Ez grinned. “Like the one you actually live in, or figuratively?”
“I’ll have you know it’s not crypt-like at all. It’s…” Filthy, smelly, a little cramped and full of weird crap from the old world. “Magical.”
“I’ll take a house above ground, thanks.” Jesse got a little poke to his leg again. “Eat.”
“It smells good. I haven’t had meat in…” he paused to think, “four summers? Five?” He’d been with the Diné on the mesa and there had been jackrabbit stew, rich and wild.
That may have been the peyote memories, though.
“You gonna get sick on me?” A chunk of rough bread was handed over, too.
“I hope not. That would be a terrible waste.”
“You know it.”
They ate for a bit in silence, Ez sucking down the food. The man could flat-out eat. Jess got it. Ezrah worked hard.
He didn’t eat as much, his stomach confused by the meat, the heaviness. It still tasted amazing, and the gravy was stunning.
Jesse licked his fingers clean, eyes on Ez, admiring. The man munched on the bread, his face all hard planes and angles in the firelight. Maybe he would dream of Ezrah tonight. That would be better than some faceless man in the Flow, for sure.
He pushed his dreads back, the beads clinking and clacking. He loved the sound, the way they clopped and clanked around his head.
“When did you start with that look?” Ez asked.
“Hmm? Which look?”
“The braids. Do the beads mean something?”
“The Diné, the tribes up in the desert, they trade for them. I got a little lost a few years ago, woke up to a mess. This helped corral it.”
“Lost? As in physically, or in the Flow?”
“In the Flow. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen.” It was like sunset and rain and flying on the wind with a raven.
“I bet.” Those sloe-eyes traced his face, the intensity hard to take. Ez had looked at him like that sometimes, back in the day, making him imagine things.
His body tightened, his cock reminding him he was flesh. “The Diné like my red hair. It fascinates them.”
“I can see why. They never see hair your color in their people.”
No. No, Ezrah’s almost black hair was way more normal among the earth folks.
“Nope. In fact, I’d say I’m memorable.”
“You are.” That little, crooked smile kicked up the corner of Ezrah’s mouth, so familiar it made him ache.
“How do you want me to help, Ez? How can I?”
“Well, you already have. I never thought of the dam, not really. It’s just always been there back home, you know? I needed your mind. I will a lot.” Ez paused, lowering his voice. “And in Denver, I’ll need you to make sure we get paid. It’s tough up there, and they use your Flow to cheat. I’ve heard it a lot.”
“I’ve never plugged in somewhere that big.” He didn’t know if it would blow his port, honestly. It could. His fingers stroked the tiny bump.
“Will it hurt you?” Looked as if poor Ez hadn’t thought of that, either. “Shit. I’m a fucking mess.” Ezrah set aside his bowl and rolled a smoke, lighting up.
“I’ll be fine. You don’t worry about me. You just rest. I’m here.” And Jess was doing a world of good, too.
“Yeah. Okay.” Ez chuckled. “I miss them all, you know? But Em being gone, it’s as if half of me is just missing.”
“I don’t know how to make it better.” He’d loved Em, maybe more than anyone but Ezrah. Emmett had been the best of them.
“I know. But I figure of anyone, you get it. Y’all were tight.”
“We were. He loved you, but you know that.”
“I know.” Ez gulped down his coffee. “I don’t know why I asked you to come, for sure, Jess. I needed a friend.”
“You asked me because you needed me. I came because I needed to.”
“Yes.” The stare he got made him shiver again, his nipples like little rocks.
He drank his coffee, the black liquid tasting like bitter death, but it was hot. Wet. Something he could concentrate on instead of Ez. How solid Ez was. How thoroughly male. He wanted to hold the man, cradle him. Shit, he wanted to do things that were only imaginable in the Flow.
He was a bad, bad man.
When Ez looked at him again, he ducked his head. Ez sighed. “I know it was easier to talk with Emmett.”
“Not really, I just didn’t have thoughts about him.”
Oh.
Wait.
Whoa. Had he said that out loud? Damn his fool mouth.
Those black brows rose, all but disappearing under Ezrah’s hat. “He looked just like me.”
“No. You look different.” He always knew which one was which. Ez had made his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth from the time he’d gotten his first erection.
“Really?” Did Ez look pleased? Man, he’d dodged a bullet there. “Even Momma says we’re tough to tell apart.”
“I’ve known you both forever.” He’d been Em’s best friend and had loved Ez since he knew what love was.
“Well, so has Mom.”
The scrape of boot on rock made them both tense up. It was just one of the youngest drovers with a covered bowl. “Cookie worked up a cobbler, Ezrah. He sent enough for y’all to share.”
Ez lit up like a Christmas tree, and Jesse had to chuckle. The man had a notorious sweet tooth.
“Thanks, Terry.”
The kid nodded and handed off the bowl before high-tailing it out of there.
“So are they scared of me or you?”
“Oh, it’s you.” Ezrah grinned. “I think it’s both, man. They’ve tiptoed around me a lot since Em.”
“I bet that was intense.” He made his best terrifying face. “I can be scary.”
Ezrah cracked right up. “Boogly-boogly. Get your ass over here with a spoon and share this with me.”
“I don’t know if my ass can use a spoon, Ez.”
“No? Not a talented butt crack?”
“Talented, sure. Able to wield a spoon?” He let the question trail off.
Ezrah was still chuckling when Jesse moved over next to him. The laughter stopped when their shoulders rubbed together. It was like a lightning strike. Damn.
Staring at him sideways, Ez drew in a deep breath, the sound loud over the crackle of the fire.
“You get the first taste.” Shit, that sounded filthy.
“Right.” Ezrah’s hand shook when he dug into the cobbler, but Jesse wasn’t going to say a word.
What the hell was he supposed to say? Let’s go rub up against each other as if we’re animals? That would probably get his ass kicked, though Ez really didn’t seem to be in an ass-kicking mood. Maybe he’d survive the night.
Still, tomorrow someone would feed him to gila monsters.
He sure hoped it would be worth the trouble.
Chapter Five
The gunshot rang out, and it was so much louder than last time. Ezrah knew because this time he could hear it rip into Emmett’s flesh. He could smell his twin’s blood, seeping into the desert sand.
And there was not a goddamned thing he could do.
Emmett clutched his shirt and stared at him, eyes going dark with blood, flesh falling away until only a gaping skull was left.
Ezrah gasped, sitting straight up in his bedroll, his eyes trying to pierce the darkness, which was broken only by the sullen embers of the fire. Shit. Oh, shit. He panted, reaching for his tobacco pouch.
“Hey. Hey, it’s okay.” Jess’ hand slid over his fingers, the man right there, surprising him.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He grasped Jesse’s hand, not wanting to let go. He needed something solid to hold onto.
“I was keeping watch.”
“Oh.” Now he felt as if he were a dream-caught idiot. He hadn’t thought one of them would stay up, not with the drovers keeping watch on their own. Surely Jesse understood they hired cowboys for that. “I can trade off.”
“We can just sit a minute, huh? Dreaming about Em
?”
“Yeah.” He ran his free hand through his hair. “I can’t forget how he looked at me.”
“I’m so sorry, man.” Jesse sounded so honest.
“Thanks.” What else could he say? He was sorry, too. Hell, he was even sorry he’d asked Jess to come, put someone else in danger. He was too selfish to cut the man free, though. That hand holding his was a lifeline right now.
“The wind sounds as if it’s talking to us.”
“It does that a lot out here.” Ezrah snorted. “What’s it telling you?”
“I can’t quite understand. It’s like when you listen for something and it’s right below your ears.”
He raised a brow. “Seriously?” He could hear the wind, but it sounded like wind. Not words.
Jesse looked away, but nodded. “Sort of, yeah.”
“Well, you always were tapped into things more than me.” The whole voices thing should probably make him worried, but this was Jesse. The man had heard little people in the mesquite when they were kids.
“You mean I’m a little crazier than you.”
“We’re all a little crazy out this way, man.” That was true enough. They all had to be nuts to live in the desert.
“You have no idea. I live in the middle of nothing.” Jesse didn’t sound all that worried about it, though. In fact, he sounded pretty happy with his lot in life.
“I will, right? We have to go by there.” He thought on it. The route was really in Cyrus’ hands.
“I’ve never seen a cattle drive next to me, but I don’t go outside.”
“No. No, you glow in the dark.” Let go, he told himself, let the man have his hand back. He just couldn’t.
“And you look as if you’re crafted from leather.”
“Do I?” Maybe he did. Mirrors were kind if a luxury. He had looked at Em when he needed to know how he was aging, but his brother had always been the same. His.
“Yep. Like one of them old dolls.”
Oh, now. That was plumb mean spirited. He pinched Jesse’s hand, right between the thumb and forefinger.
“Ouch!” Jesse jumped, pouncing on him, tickling his ribs.
“Shit!” He cackled like a big, old blackbird, rolling, pinning Jess down so he could blow a raspberry on the man’s belly, bared by that bizarre hide shirt.
