by BA Tortuga
“Jesse? You okay?”
He blinked, staring over at Cyrus a second before he nodded. “Fine.”
“You’re bleeding, man. Like, a lot.”
“Too much smoke last night.” He staunched it with a bandana, head just fixin’ to come right off.
“Yeah. Looked like a hell of a party from up on the ridge.”
“They’re good people, once you get to know them.” He was welcome there, and he wouldn’t speak ill of the Diné, not for anything.
“Hey, I got no beef with them or anyone else.” Cyrus grinned. “That smoke gives a man thoughts, though, and I try hard not to think too much.”
“I hear that.” He snorted, and the act set his nose off again. Damn it. “It’s not healthy, that’s for sure.”
“Here.” Cyrus pulled out a snowy white handkerchief, which made him cackle madly. How did anyone keep a hanky clean on the trail?
“I’ll ruin it.”
“I got more. Better than a bandana or something. Cleaner.”
“Thank you.” He rolled his eyes. “Damn dry weather.”
He knew it wasn’t that, though, and he’d bet Cyrus knew too. The man had an old soul and those gray eyes saw everything. Still, soon there’d be a way in, a place to sink into the Flow, and it wouldn’t matter what Cyrus thought.
There had to be.
He was starting to get a little desperate. His brain spun, his thoughts too damned loud. Soon, he told himself. Soon. All he had to do was be patient.
That and not die from his ass in the saddle.
Jess chuckled. That was definitely going to be easier said than done.
Chapter Nine
“They’re dropping like flies, boss.” Cyrus sighed, tugging at his hat, which was never a good sign. “We need to get to the river and camp a few days.”
“We can do that. Especially if there’s shelter.” And whatever Jesse was needing. The man was the color of ash, eyes seeming to get bigger and bigger in his face. Ez was as worried for Jess as he was the thirsty cattle. Maybe more.
Cyrus nodded, grinning a little and handing over a cigarette, which Ez accepted gratefully. He’d given most of his tobacco to the Diné. “We’re making good time, what with the info Jesse got us.”
Jesse had found a route through a canyon for them the last time the man had done his thing, claiming old maps were still available on the Flow.
“We are. I’ve been pushing it. Just don’t let the herd stampede when they smell the water.”
“We’ll head into the banks, lead along ‘til we find a likely spot. Ground’s a little unstable here, and we need to watch it.”
Ez heard that. There was nothing more frightening, not in Heaven or on Earth, than when the ground moved under your feet, even if it was a bank giving way, not a quake. Entire generations had learned to fear it, knew the power the land had.
“We’ll find a place for Jesse to do his thing, see if he can discover anything.” Ez still wasn’t one hundred percent sure what Jesse’s thing was or how it worked, but it was important. They hadn’t had an ambush since Jess signed on to the drive, and it wasn’t because Chastain’s men weren’t still behind them. No, it was because Jess knew the defensible camps, the direction to turn when the land threw up a roadblock.
Ez couldn’t be more proud of the man. He knew it wasn’t easy, riding, having the boys steal potshots at every opportunity. Jess didn’t complain a bit, though, just took it, closed-mouthed. If he searched the horizon obsessively and got skinnier every day, well, Ez wasn’t saying a word.
They turned west, looking toward the trees which promised water. The cattle knew it was coming, too, starting to jostle and bump, the head cow lowing for her herd.
The boys did their job, cutting the herd off, slowing them down. Couldn’t let them get going too fast or they’d lose more cattle in the trampling.
Jesse came riding up beside him. “What’s up, Ez?”
“We’re gonna water for a few days. We’re losing too much stock.”
“Oh. Water is good. There should be some places close. The lines by the water tend to be okay. Maybe.” Jess made a face, rubbing at his nose, which looked a little raw.
“Yeah? I never know. Last time you were in a cave.” He’d had to call to Jess repeatedly, had almost smacked him to wake him from the floating thing.
“Underground is always best. Always. I’ll head up the ridge and look at the formations.”
“Be careful.” He hadn’t convinced Jesse to carry a gun, and the drovers were the least of what was out to get Jess in the damned desert.
“No one wants to play with me anymore. They’re afraid I’ll eat them.”
“Yeah? Will you?” Ez could imagine Jess chomping his way through a few drovers.
“Nope.” Jesse’s eyes twinkled. “You? Maybe.”
“Mmm.” He was afraid to say much more. He’d just babble. The idea of Jesse devouring him was far more appealing than his earlier image.
He got a wink, a chuckle. “I’ll leave the horse with you and walk up on foot. I’ll leave a red marker if I go underground.”
“Okay.” His fingers itched to touch Jesse just in case, but he didn’t reach out. People were watching. This entire situation was grating him like cheese.
“See you.” Jesse slipped down, took his bag, and headed up the ridge, the drovers turning to watch him go.
Ez frowned at each and every one of them in turn. “Y’all let him be.”
“He ain’t right, boss. He’s evil.”
His Jesse? Evil? Nonsense. Ez shook his head. “I know y’all don’t understand him, but I’ve known him for years. Since we was kids.”
Jesse was different, he’d admit that. But the man was here, just because Ez had asked. There was nothing bad in his bones.
One of the boys spat. “We don’t hold with Grounders, boss.”
“You either leave the man alone or go. I done told you. Remember, before I called for him, they were picking us off. They haven’t touched us since, have they?”
He got a sullen look or two, but no one said another word. They all needed this job, and Ezrah knew it.
His eyes went to the ridge, but Jesse was nowhere to be seen. Worry tugged at him, but he had to get the herd to the water. He didn’t have time to go find Jess.
The man had been taking care of himself for a long time.
* * * *
Jesse found a narrow crack in the earth, more a burrow than a cave, but the hum was there. Once he wiggled down in, he slipped into the Flow, the immediate relief of the pain in his head making him sob.
As soon as he jacked in he knew something momentous had happened. Everything battered against him, information pouring in at an alarming rate. He shook, his fingers digging into his palms. God, just slow down. He couldn’t separate anything.
There were alarms everywhere. Warnings. Klaxons. Earthquakes in the east, reported in the north. Every damned place in what was left of their continent.
Fuck.
Fuck a duck. Quakes. They were in so much trouble. The world was collapsing again.
“Ez.” Jesse groaned, trying to find his way back to his body so he could warn Ezrah, so he could get out of the earth before it caved in. “Ez. Ez, love.”
He was too late. The dirt and rocks around him began to move, rumbling, shaking. Little lights flashed in front of his eyes, the balance of electricity and air shifting.
He scrambled, the entire world flaring into blinding light, so bright.
Too bright.
His head throbbed, his skull squeezing his brain as if he were a lime and someone was making a margarita. In Hell.
Heat bloomed behind his ear and suddenly he was in his body, screaming as the world churned. He flailed out with his hands, trying to ward off whatever was coming for him, but he couldn’t stop the force that seemed to be tearing his head off.
The lights got brighter and brighter, burning into his brain, flashing white before he slumped to the ground, and t
he universe went black.
* * * *
At first, Ezrah thought the rumbling was the herd heading for the water. They would run the last hundred yards or so. The trick was to control the lead cow, keep the pace manageable. Otherwise you were fucked.
One look at the front of the herd told him there was more to it. Then he saw Cyrus, riding hell bent for leather up the column toward him, waving his hat.
“Boss! Ezrah! It’s a shaker!” Cyrus hooted and hollered, sounding the alarm.
“Shit. Up! Up, boys! Climb!” The rocks were tumbling down from the ridge, slow now, but it would get worse, and fast. The canyon wasn’t safe for the men or the horses.
The drovers all froze for a few seconds. Then Ezrah slapped his mare on the butt and up the bluff they went, showing the boys what to do. Gravity was working against them. He urged her on with his feet and his words. “Go! Go! Come on, girl!”
His mare dug in, her powerful hindquarters churning, digging through the scrub. He leaned up on her neck, giving her more leverage. The earth moved again, as if it were a living thing, and Henry went down off his gelding’s butt with a sharp cry.
“Hold on, boys! Ride!” Fuck the cattle, he had men to save. Dooley reached down, pulled Henry up, dragging the man along the side of the mount. Ezrah made the ridge of the hill, looked down as the ground itself shuddered and rolled, rocks and boulders making dust on their way to the water.
“Cyrus!” He needed to know where his foreman was, and had lost sight of the man.
“Boss! Here!” Cyrus’ mount was dancing, but looked solid, a couple hundred feet off to his right.
“Spread the word. Let the herd fill the basin but we stay up here.” Ezrah turned, heading along the ridge to move away from a crumbling patch of earth. Better to lose the cattle than the men.
He started counting heads. Two, four, seven, eight…Jesse. Shit. Oh, shitfire and save matches. He began scanning the horizon for a piece of red cloth. They were up where Jess had climbed on foot, searching for the Flow.
Underground.
That man was inside this mess.
Ezrah knew he had a duty to his men and his ranch, but he had to find Jess. Only Jess would know how bad this was, especially if he’d actually managed to jack in. Jess would know how many places were out of commission. Like Denver. They had to know before they moved the trail drive any farther.
The shocks kept coming, rolling underneath them, and he focused on finding that red bandana. His horse was panicking, feet tearing up the ground, but Ez stuck on her like a burr.
Come on. Jess. Where are you? He couldn’t lose anyone else. His whole family was gone but for his mom. He needed Jess. So badly. No matter how determined he was not to admit it, he loved Jess. They were lovers, even if they never touched each other again.
He needed to know. There.
Right there. He saw the hint of red, which fluttered ahead off one of the trails, almost buried, the ground rising up around it like a fresh anthill.
“Oh, thank fuck.” He spurred to it, then ground-tied his mare, knowing she’d stay unless a fissure opened up, even as scared as she was. She’d been with him for seven years.
“You find him, boss?” Cyrus shouted.
He nodded, pointed up the game trail at the red flag.
“You go get him. I got this. If he knows anything about the shakes…”
Ezrah nodded. Cyrus was a good man. He would take care of business just as he always had, and Ezrah would dig Jess out of the ground.
The mouth of the cave or whatever the fuck Jesse had gone into was gone, just a pile of rubble now, and Ez started digging, pulling out rock and debris as fast as he could. Jess couldn’t survive down there for long. Air was an issue. So was sediment.
His hands bled, the scrub and rock tearing at his fingers.
The first rush of rock moving exposed an opening and he hesitated. What if… what if Jess was gone, and he went down there and was trapped in the earth? The shakes were still showing no signs of letting up, and these weren’t aftershocks. These were full-on fault lines cracking.
He panted, feeling as if he were a rabbit in a snare, unable to move. Then he thought of never knowing if he could have saved Jess, if his lover, damn it all, was still alive.
Ezrah plunged underground before he could think again.
The hole was horizontal for a short bit, then headed down, drastically, the grit moving under his boot-heels, making him slide. He flailed a little, thinking of the story his mom used to tell him about a girl named Alice going down a rabbit hole.
It was dark down here, dark and close and…He let out a childlike squeal when his fingers touched something that moved, jerked and moaned.
“Jess? Jesse, tell me that’s you.” He groped, hoping nothing bit him.
“Ez.” Jesse’s voice echoed weirdly with as weak as it was.
Oh. Oh, thank God.
He patted gently at Jesse’s body. “Are you hurt? We got to get above, baby.” He’d never called anyone baby in his life, but it popped out, just as Daddy had called his momma.
“Ez,” Jess groaned, voice like a frog croak. “Earthquakes. They’re coming.”
“Oh, they’re here. We have to get up above before this seals off again. Thank God for your flag.” He started backing out of the hole, dragging Jess with him.
Jess moaned, arms and legs moving restlessly. He wasn’t sure if the man was trying to help him or stop him. It didn’t matter; Ezrah had desperation on his side.
The ground was going to move again, and he’d be damned if it swallowed him up when they were almost there, Jess went limp under his hands, heavy and sliding, gravity pulling them down.
“No. No, baby, come on.”
“Ez.” Jesse jerked, his moan loud and wet. “The quakes are coming!”
His lover surged up, shoved him and it felt as if Ezrah went flying, as if Jess threw him up and out of the hole. He turned, trying not to slide back in, and he grabbed Jesse’s arm and yanked before the hole closed. Jesse tumbled out against him, still and quiet, face gray under the dust.
He checked Jesse’s pulse. There, if more thready than he’d like. His mare stood there, sides blowing, eyes rolling with fear. Still there, though, like the champion she was.
“Good girl. Good girl.”
He lifted Jess, put the man up on Bonny’s saddle, and the man just dangled there as if he were a ragdoll. Ezrah couldn’t stop to look at Jesse’s injuries They needed even higher ground.
They all climbed to the ridge, watching the mountains move and shift around them. The glimpses he caught of the boys were all the same. Pale, set faces, mouths pressed into hard lines. The cattle were at the river, restless, lowing, churning up the water.
All they had to do was ride it out.
Jess moaned, and Ez turned back, stopping short at seeing the line of burn, spreading from under Jess’ ear along his neck. Shit. What the hell was that? They had to get somewhere he could check it out. The man smelled like smoked meat. Jesus, the injuries had to be bad.
“Is he alive, Boss?” Cyrus looked worried, coming to meet him, hat in his hands.
“His heart is beating.” He didn’t know about the rest.
“Well, that’s something. You want to set up camp here? Away from the edge?”
“I do.” They needed to check the horses, see what the hell had happened to Cookie.
“Circle the horses! Where’s the wagon, boys? Let’s get ourselves settled.” Cyrus barked out orders as if he were a master, getting the drovers moving. He really was the best trail boss in the business.
Ez had never been more grateful to have the man there. Dooley dropped Hank on the ground and nodded. “I’ll round up as much of the remuda as I can.”
“Good man. Someone find Cookie!”
“On it, boss.” That was Tyler, up from the rear of the column, the straggling herd still pouring into the riverbed.
He grabbed the reins and walked Bonny away from the edge, up where the g
round was flat and stable. Then he let Jess slide down into his arms, laying the man out on the dirt and rocks. He took his bedroll from the back of his saddle and put it under Jesse’s head.
The spot where that machine had been in Jesse’s head was black, the skin red and blistered, scarred and awful. Christ. As if it had cauterized itself.
He rolled one of Jesse’s eyelids back, seeing nothing but white. “Jess? Can you hear me?”
“Ez.” The man’s pupils were pinpoints when his eyes rolled back down, tiny little black dots. But he was talking. Jesse knew who Ezrah was.
Ez closed his eyes and said a little prayer of thanks. “You scared me.”
“Earthquake.”
“Yep. Shaking like an aspen out here.”
“Ez. Earthquake. Earthquake.”
Come on, Jesse. Snap out of it. He wanted to shake Jesse, but that might hurt him worse.
“It’s here, Jess.” The ground might just open up and swallow them it was so there. “I need you, Jess. Need you here with me.”
“Ez. Ez, there’s a quake. Coming from the north. Everything’s on fire.”
“Jess.” He took Jesse’s cheeks in his hands trying to get the man to look at him. “The quakes are here. Is Denver burning?”
“Everything’s on fire, it’s –gone—from Laramie to the ABQ.”
Christ. If that was true and not just a hallucination from the port going out, they were screwed. So damned screwed. “Tell me what hurts.”
“Ez. Ez, the mountains are on fire. Trees and brush. Lightning all over.”
“Okay. Okay, baby. We’ll deal with that. Right now we’re mostly safe.” He thought.
Ezrah grabbed his canteen, wet a cloth and put it over the worst of the burn, wincing as Jesse cried out, arms and legs going stiff. His feet drummed on the earth, and somehow Jess had lost his too-big boots, borrowed from Cookie’s wagon stash. His skin there was covered in tiny blisters.
One of the drovers appeared beside him, holding out a silver flask. “I got whiskey, boss, iff’n it’ll help.”
