CRYERS

by North, Geoff

  “Yeah, I’m a boy, but you ain’t no girl…not like any girl I’ve ever known.”

  There was a flash of something in her green eyes. Fury. Hurt. Sorrow. It was brief, but Cobe had seen the feelings there. “I’m not them. How can I prove it to you?”

  “Let us go. Help us out of here tonight while it’s still dark.”

  Jenny shook her head. “It’s too late. It’ll be light again soon. Tomorrow night—a few hours after sunset.” They were walking again, approaching the western bridge. Jenny could see Ivan Tevalov’s hunched form in the shadows. He was sitting on the first few flat stones leading out of Rudd. She could hear him chewing on a long piece of bone, sucking the marrow out from one shattered end. “We’ll have to kill whichever one of them is on guard.” She hoped it would be Tevalov. She detested the dead-eyed Russian almost as much as her great-great-grandfather.

  Cobe had seen with his own eyes how tough these things were to kill. Lode had pounded on Jenny’s father’s face with everything he had, and the monster stood through it all. Jenny’s mother had been blasted in two pieces, but she was still with them. Nothing short of the lawman’s powerful guns could bring these things down to their knees, he figured. But the lawman’s guns were gone—left behind somewhere in Big Hole.

  As if she could read his mind—and maybe she had—Jenny whispered in Cobe’s ear. “I can take care of him when the time comes, trust me.”

  They started back for the center of town. “Why would you let us go? I thought you said we belonged to you.”

  “You’re not going alone… I’m coming with you.”

  ***

  “Fuckers.” Gertie muttered the word for about the hundredth time as she sat in the dark plains outside of Rudd. “Filthy, murderin’ fuckers.” She watched the white-bearded monster chew on a piece of femur like a mutt with its favorite bone.

  “We gonna get them good, Ma,” a man said behind her. He had a growth on his neck that may have been a forming foot thirty years earlier. It was all wrinkled over and had hair growing out the end.

  “We’re goin’ to try, Boy.” Most of her sons and grandsons were named Boy. So were the nephews and cousins. Dirty knew them all by heart and didn’t need titles for each. That was the civilized way of doing things. “They done ate a lot of my children. It’s good we got plenty more kin to rely on.”

  Boy nodded his head enthusiastically and the thing on his neck wagged like a thick, limp penis. “Gonna show ‘em what happens to folks what trespass in our hills.”

  Gertie grunted and looked over the town where she’d been born, raised for a short time, and raped repeatedly. It had taught her plenty. She’d learned how to screw in Rudd. It was where she had learned to hate and how to kill. She loathed it, but deep down inside her rotted soul was a part looking forward to returning one last time.

  Her remaining children were clustered around her like ticks clinging to a host. They were watching the town, feeding off Gertie’s need for revenge and the cold taste of her hate. Most were waiting, some were sleeping. A few were eating the remains of a pack of howlers they’d come across halfway between the forested hills of home and Rudd. Others were fucking quietly in the dirt, doing their part to repopulate old Dirty’s family.

  Gertie regarded those she could see in the moonlight, scraping that one green tooth of hers against the wet scab of her upper lip. There were less than fifty of them left, but those that remained were young and fast. They were the ones equipped with spears, and bows and arrows.

  “We’ll give ‘em a fight they won’t soon forget,” she mumbled. “Or we’ll die tryin’.”

  Boy showed her his toothless smile. “I love you, Ma.”

  Gertie glared back at her old home. “Fuckers.”

  Chapter 51

  Kay didn’t think a human being could get so thirsty without dropping dead first. Her lips were swollen fat and cracking, the inside of her mouth felt worse. She had only tasted water once since fleeing Rudd, and that had been a mistake. She knew the dirty river water wasn’t fit to drink without boiling first, but she’d done it anyway. Most of it had come back up a half hour later, and whatever else was left inside her came out the other end shortly after. The headache set in after the vomiting and shitting was done, and it had stayed with her ever since. It pounded against the inside of her skull with every step. Kay took to keeping her eyes closed as she trudged along the dry earth, stumbling in the cracks and ruts.

  It ain’t fair. Nobody should hurt this much. Nobody should want water so bad.

  She remembered what had likely become of her mother—of Cobe and his brother, and her father, and all those other poor souls left behind in Rudd—and she felt ashamed. At least Kay was still living. As horrible and painful as it was, she was still forcing one foot in front of the other, heading shakily south, towards Burn.

  She had slept along the river’s bank the night before, grateful for the cool dark. But the night had been too short. The much-needed rest was interrupted by the rising of the sun. Kay knew she had to keep moving. She had to put as much ground behind her as she could before it got too hot—before the thirst clamped her parched throat shut and she couldn’t take another awful step.

  By noon, or what Kay believed to be noon, she collapsed into the dirt and tried to cry. Her eyeballs were too dry and sore to produce much in the way of tears, and it hurt too much to wail. She curled up into a ball and made feeble choking grunts. She waited to die.

  She thought the shadow falling across her body was a cloud. She opened her eyes and hoped for rain. Even fire-rain would be a welcome thing now. If she couldn’t drink it, at least the acidic drops would finish her off sooner.

  The shadow wasn’t cast from a cloud. A giant beast stood over her, blocking out the hot sun completely. Kay had never seen a live roller before. As a child, she and some friends had seen the remains of one in the bottom of Rudd’s moat. Its giant skull had split open on one of the rocks after it plunged over from the plains east of town. All that was left was a stinking mess of brain, bone, and fur.

  The thing standing over her now dropped its long head and poked Kay’s cheek with its wet nose. It made a snorting sound and she knew then what kind of creature it was. She blinked until enough moisture coated her eyes to make the animal out.

  “You’re not the most handsome horse, are you?” She croaked. It made another gentle snorting noise and stepped back. Kay managed to stand and reached out. The horse stepped back in and allowed her to touch the side of its face. “Poor thing. You only got one eye.” She stroked the smooth, brown hair. “What happened to you, boy? Did a pack of howlers do that?”

  Wild horses weren’t an uncommon thing to see around Rudd. Kay had seen plenty running out on the plains. They weren’t as common as rollers, and they travelled in far smaller numbers, but they were out there. A few had even been domesticated by farmers living on the outskirts of Rudd. Kay had visited one of those farms once with her Ma on a sick call. Her ma had tended to the farmer’s ailing wife while Kay visited with the man’s animals. He had three horses, but none of them had allowed Kay to get close enough for a touch.

  This one was different. It was licking her cheek and prodding the side of her head and neck.

  Like it knew her.

  She kissed it below the slit of grey scar where it had lost an eye. It hurt to speak but she did so anyway. “That’s impossible, isn’t it, boy?” She said. “You don’t know me…how could you?” She patted its powerful shoulder and let her hand trail down his warm side. Her fingers hit something raised up on the horse’s hide. She looked over and saw a wide leather strap. Kay’s heart started to race, it made the headache pound harder. She moved in front of the horse and went to the other side. Two big leather pouches hung there. Kay moaned when she realized what they were. She smacked one and felt the weighty jiggle inside.

  Surely the Gods existed, Kay thought, as she lifted the flap back on top of one of the water bags. Her fingers shook as she untied the thick strings under
neath. The horse shifted its position towards her and Kay’s forearms pressed up against the bag. Warm water squirted out and splashed into her face. She drank down as much as her sore, constricted throat would allow. She let it pour down the sides of her mouth and she splashed more over the dusty mess of her hair.

  She continued to drink and splash until the big horse made a soft whinnying sound. Kay stepped away from the bag with difficulty and wiped the water from her eyes. She ran it back through her hair and breathed deeply.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. Kay wrapped her arms around its neck and kissed the side of its face repeatedly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  The horse stayed with Kay as the girl recovered slowly. He remained with her as she drank more water. He stood by as she vomited, drank again, and rested in the dirt cooled off by his shadow. When she awoke and decided the only sensible way to Burn was to travel on top of his back, the horse waited patiently until she had climbed up successfully after a half dozen attempts. They traveled south at a lazy pace—less than a gallop for the horse, but considerably faster than Kay could’ve managed on foot. Kay guided the horse along the river’s edge, hoping it would lead them into Burn before the sun set once again.

  Hours passed and the village still hadn’t come into view. Kay spoke softly to the big horse, stroking the hair on its mane. “Maybe I don’t need to go to Burn…ain’t nothing there for me anyway. Maybe the two of us should head someplace else…some place where men don’t fight to the death, and there ain’t no monsters rising up from under the ground to eat people.”

  The horse’s head jerked back, and he made a deep snorting sound.

  “You like the idea of that, don’t you?” Kay patted his muscular back. “Something tells me you done a lot of traveling in your day…you belonged to someone once. I bet they named you something powerful…Something like Thunder, or Speed. What was your name? We can’t get keep riding together with me calling you boy or horse. That just won’t do.”

  The animal reared up on its hind legs and snorted. Kay dug her fingers into its mane and squeezed its back with the insides of her thighs. “Whoa! Settle down!”

  The horse thudded back onto all four hooves and a cloud of dust rose up around them. Kay waved it away from her face and saw something approaching from the south. At first she thought it might be people—folks from Burn coming out to greet her. But as the four forms took shape Kay knew it wasn’t people; they were too big, and they were moving too fast. Rollers. The creatures disappeared into a dip on the horizon. The dust continued to rise, however, like an advancing brown cloud of death. She yanked at the horse’s mane, pulling it to the left in an attempt to make it turn in the opposite direction. The horse stayed put.

  She pulled some more and dug her heels into it sides. How do you make something so big go the way you want? They were getting closer. Kay could hear the rumble of their hooves. She smacked the horse’s neck a little harder than intended. “Come on, you big thing—move!”

  The animal didn’t move an inch. Kay considered jumping off and running on her own. She started to slide down one side, but the horse bucked up again. She buried her hands back into its mane and held on. It was too late. They would both be trampled in another minute or so.

  The creatures appeared above the rise less than a hundred yards away.

  One of them whinnied. They weren’t rollers.

  Four more wild horses had decided to join them. Kay grinned and twisted around on the big animal’s back as the others trotted around them in a lazy circle. A smoky grey one poked its wet nose into Kay’s leg and the girl laughed out loud. “I only needed one, but you’re all welcome to tag along.” A white one with odd patches of brown running down its long face showed Kay’s horse its big teeth. It made a noise that sounded like a belch and a fart combined. Big One-Eye replied with a snort of his own.

  “Looks like you might’ve found a girlfriend, boy.” She thought about Cobe. If only he had managed to escape from Rudd with her. Guilt settled on her as the horses continued to get acquainted. She should’ve gone to the Rites with her ma. Maybe Kay could’ve saved them all—Cobe’s one-armed brother, Trot…her father.

  What had she been thinking? What kind of life could she hope to build with everyone she had ever loved dead and gone? She pulled on the horse’s mane again, and the animal turned. Kay dug her heels into its sides, and he started moving north.

  “I can’t leave them behind.” The five horses galloped together in a group. “Whether they’re dead or alive, I have to know…I have to do something.”

  ***

  Kay and her horses found the girl less than an hour later. She said her name was Angel, but Kay had never seen anyone uglier and less-fitted for the title. Angel could ride a horse, however. She rode next to Kay on the white one with brown spotting.

  “The howlers tore my Ma to little bits…been runnin’ south ever since on my own.”

  Kay hadn’t said a word as the girl told her story. It had gone worse in Rudd than she’d imagined. A big, mean lawman had beaten her pa almost dead, and the things from Big Hole had killed him for sure shortly after. They had killed dozens, Angel said, maybe hundreds. Kay wanted to ask about her own ma and pa, but she didn’t think Angel would take kindly to the fact that the big, mean lawman was in fact her father. Now that she had agreed to travel back to Rudd with her to see who and what they could save, Kay wasn’t sure what to say. She kept quiet and let Angel do all the talking.

  “I saw some rollers once on the plains when Ma and Pa was still livin’. Scared the shit outta me. But it weren’t nothin’ like the fear I felt when them grey-skinned things came into the pit…and seein’ what the howlers did to Ma…” Angel wiped a tear away from her face. “I guess after seein’ all that…well maybe I ain’t as scared no more. It’s hard to explain.”

  “You seen the worst there is to see,” Kay finally spoke. “I seen some bad things, too. Once you seen stuff like that, there ain’t nothing left to be scared of.”

  “Yeah…you’re right. That’s exactly how it is.” Angel smiled at her. “I ain’t scared no more.”

  “I’m hoping to find survivors when we make it back to Rudd. I plan on saving anyone left. You sure you’re up for that?”

  Angel nodded. “I met this boy awhile back… I think he liked me. He was in Rudd last I saw. Maybe he made it out.”

  “Maybe he did,” Kay said. She couldn’t imagine any boy liking the girl. He probably hadn’t been much to look at either. Kay prodded the horse with her heels and they picked up speed.

  Chapter 52

  “Open your eyes.”

  Lawson kept them shut and held his breath, hoping the thing hadn’t seen his chest rise.

  Colonel Strope leaned over his still body. “I’ve caught men playing dead before. Enemy combatants mostly, but there were a few deserters as well. You can tell when they’re acting. Open your eyes…We need to talk.”

  Lawson opened his eyes. “Still hurting…need rest.”

  “Bullshit.”

  The lawman sighed and worked his way up onto one elbow. “If you’re going to kill me, make it quick. I may be used to having my bones broken, but I’m still not all that fond of pain.”

  “I’m not going to kill you. I said I wanted to talk.”

  The lawman looked around. “Sara…where is she?”

  “Your woman is still alive, she’s checking up mine.”

  “Edna. The one I blew in half.”

  “Yes. You have been listening. Then you’re probably aware Eichberg plans to use you as our guide to other towns and cities.”

  “There ain’t no cities no more.” Lawson lay back down in an attempt to put some distance between him and the fetid reek of Strope’s healing face and breath. “What towns remain ain’t worth your effort. They’re far and few between.”

  “Eichberg is the one concerned with distant populations. I have other plans.”

  “Eatin’ all the folks in Rudd don’t sound like much of
a plan.”

  Strope ignored the comment. “I lived in a world—worked for a country that was continually fighting for more. Where did it get any of us? What is it that Eichberg hopes to achieve by starting the process all over again? This world needs to be rebuilt. It needs guidance. It needs to grow. I want to see that happen here.”

  The lawman shifted away from him and stood up. He hurt all over, but there was nothing inside broken bad enough the Ambrufel hadn’t already healed. Lawson was grateful he’d had enough sense to take some extra packages of the stuff from Level E when he’d been holed up in the washroom with Cobe. Giving them to Sara the night before the Rites was one of the brighter things he’d done in his life. Lawson saw no need to hide his condition from Strope any longer. If he’d wanted him dead, no amount of ancient medication could’ve kept the lawman alive. He moved over to the window and looked out into the night. “Quiet outside… No one left to help you rebuild this world of yers.”

  “It shouldn’t require many people. The soil is fertile enough again to begin growing healthier and hardier crops.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it. Only thing that grows around here half-ass hardy is weeds, and you ain’t gonna survive on that fer long.”

  “There are seeds stored back in the Dauphin facility. They’ve been genetically modified to withstand almost any hostile environment. I’m offering you an out, Lawman. Take your people and leave this place to me.”