Wastelands

by Jack Porter

  “How do you know? And can Ash tell where I am? I could have slipped away during her watch, and you wouldn’t have known until the next morning.”

  Good point.

  I didn’t say anything.

  “And now,” she continued, seemingly enjoying herself at my expense. “What would stop me from waiting until you’re distracted and leaving you out here in the desert? I could do it. You know I could. And then how would you find your way back to the wagons?”

  It was another good point. I was fairly certain I would be able to find my way back if Camille abandoned me, but there was no telling how long it would take. I’d be lucky if I didn’t accidentally walk back to the broken spaceship.

  Or maybe not. Lady Gamma had ordered me to ‘come back to us alive.’ Perhaps I could turn that compulsion to my own benefit.

  “So,” Camille said, sounding triumphant. “It seems you are trusting me, to some extent after all.”

  Again, I said nothing, but I could sense Camille’s satisfaction. She’d made her point, and we both knew it.

  After a while, I stopped watching her so closely but still kept half an eye on her just in case.

  Without breaking stride, Camille favored me with a sardonic grin. “You don’t ever unbend, do you?” she asked.

  Even in my old life, I’d been highly strung. Goal-oriented. It had served me well in the military, until of course it didn’t.

  But in this new, dangerous world–and with this far more capable body–it seemed to fit better.

  “It seems a good way to stay alive,” I said.

  Surprisingly, Camille laughed, and it was genuine.

  “It might at that,” she admitted. “But I hope you enjoy loneliness.”

  “Huh?”

  She looked at me again, and this time there was no anger, no frustration on her face. She was telling it like it was.

  “Your prickliness. It is a good way to stay alive. But it will keep people away from you. What good is it to live, if you’re not going to enjoy it?”

  “Who said I didn’t enjoy it?” I asked, smiling carefully. The conversation had shifted now, and I felt I had made another misstep somewhere.

  Camille frowned. “You did enjoy it?”

  “How could I not have? I thought maybe you didn’t, considering how you’ve acted since then.”

  Her expression softened. “No, I did. Very much.”

  I grinned more broadly and nodded, waiting for her to say more, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned and kept walking.

  It seemed we’d had a misunderstanding. But it didn’t mean Camille was completely wrong about me. There was something about her words that resonated. As if they contained a core truth that had dogged me for several years now. I’d been angry, vengeful, at my fate.

  Maybe I could have let my guard down a bit. Tried to make friends. Maybe then my physical limitations wouldn’t have mattered so much.

  I thought about what Camille had said in terms of new life as well. Ever since I’d woken up in the dirt, I had been at odds with Lady Gamma, despite finding her beautiful. And the same was true with Camille herself.

  It was as if I was deliberately keeping them both at arm’s length even after having sex with one of them.

  It wasn’t easy to let go of a lifetime of habitual wariness. When I tried for a more normal conversation, there was still more than a hint of it on show.

  “So,” I said after a couple more miles. “Out of curiosity, why did you decide to come along come with me rather than staying with Gamma and Ash?”

  I could tell by her quiet grin that she understood more than just my question, and I hoped she would accept the olive branch I was offering.

  “I could say that it’s to help ensure your success,” she said. “It doesn’t do me any good to have this spellcaster out here anymore than it does anyone else. But, really, I just needed to get out for a walk. I don’t like closed spaces, and there isn’t much room inside the wagons.”

  Something about her answer didn’t ring true. “But you don’t stay in the wagon all the time.”

  If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn her cheeks turned slightly pink with embarrassment.

  “No, I don’t,” she said, but didn’t elaborate.

  Interesting. I smiled. Maybe there was hope for more, after all.

  34

  Every now and again as we walked, Camille would pause to examine something more closely. A broken spine on one of the scrubby plants. A scrape against the dirt.

  “How do you know we are following the right trail?” I asked.

  “I’ve done this before,” she replied shortly. Then she relented. “Even in defeat, the sand walkers tend to travel in groups. Their gait is haphazard and hurried. Back at the site of the battle, I looked for the opposite. Someone who took more measured strides, and who seemed to stand apart from the others. That is the trail we have been following.” She shrugged. “I don’t know for certain that it’s the trail of the spellcaster, but it seemed the most likely.”

  I couldn’t fault her reasoning. We continued to walk intermittently as the sun rose high into the broken sky, me asking occasional questions, which Camille answered happily enough. But as the air heated to the point where the wind eddies started to fling dust around once again, Camille held up a hand in caution.

  We’d reached an area of undulations—low, tired hills and small valleys, where all scrubby, prickly plants seemed to grow slightly taller and the rocky outcroppings were more regular.

  I didn’t say anything at her hesitation. Instead, I sought with my various senses what it was that had set the lizard woman on edge.

  In moments, I had it. A vibration of sorts, not in the air, but through the ground itself. It was like something was rumbling up ahead, and if I didn’t know better, I would have thought it was construction or mining equipment.

  I nodded to signal my understanding, and we continued, albeit with increased caution.

  Camille saw them first. A group of sand walkers, their humanity so far gone they were much closer to beasts than to men, even though two out of the three still walked mostly upright.

  My first instinct was to unsheathe my sword even though the trio hadn’t seen us yet, but Camille grabbed me by the loose fabric at my shoulder and tugged me aside.

  I was maybe the span of a hand taller than Camille, and must have out-massed her by about half again. But I let her drag me into a crevice in a boulder and clamp her hand across my mouth to keep me from speaking.

  There wasn’t much room in the crevice—just enough for the two of us to press tightly together. I was reminded once more how attractive I found her, and breathed in her scent of wild roses.

  I knew she had other things on her mind than physical attraction, but I couldn’t help the direction my thoughts naturally went. It was all I could do to stand in place and not move even as I was intently aware of her standing beside me.

  And then, as the sand walkers came close, I knew that she had vanished once again. But more than that. I had vanished as well. I knew it as clearly as I knew my own name, not because I raised a hand to my face to check, but because of the ongoing sense of self we all possess.

  No matter what we are doing, we are aware of our own bodies. We see our own nose all the time, but we just don’t pay any attention to it. The same is true for the rest of ourselves, if to a lesser degree.

  And I knew, without a doubt, that Camille had somehow expanded her ability to me.

  My heart was beating faster than it should have been, and my breathing was rough. I willed both to slow down and tried to be as quiet as possible. The sand walkers came close enough that I could have reached out and touched them, but at least two of them were completely oblivious to our presence.

  The third, one that looked like an oversized wolf with porcupine spines instead of fur, and the talons of a large bird of prey, took a moment to sniff around the base of the boulder. I sensed Camille shift just a little, and knew that she had drawn one o
f her blades.

  Curiosity suggested I tap into my chi and scan the dog creature with my AC lens, but caution won out. Instead, I willed the dog creature to leave us alone, and in the end it did just that. But not before lifting its leg and marking the boulder, leaving a damp spot in the dust barely a foot from my leg.

  When the trio was out of sight, Camille relaxed, and I became aware of my own body again. And even more so now of the woman next to me, still holding my arm. I turned my head to look at her beautiful face.

  “I could have just killed them,” I said.

  She nodded. “You could have. And if you hadn’t done it quickly enough, one or other might have made enough noise to alert anything else in the area to our presence.”

  Once again, I had to admit that Camille had a point.

  “They are gone,” she added. “And while it isn’t exactly uncomfortable being squeezed into this crevice with you, maybe you want to move so you’re no longer blocking me in?” She said the last with a knowing smile, and, smiling back, I slid out from the crevasse to continue our journey.

  We kept going, following the signs of the wraith as we had done before. Although now, it was getting more difficult, because the group of sand walkers that passed us was not the only one in the area.

  According to Camille, other groups had traveled this way in the recent past, and this was obscuring the original trail. But there were still enough signs for her to follow, even though it became increasingly apparent that we were heading toward whatever was causing the subterranean vibrations.

  Twice more, we found ourselves too close to groups of sand walkers for comfort. Both times, Camille repeated her trick, cloaking us both while seeking natural cover as well.

  Both times, the sand walkers passed us by, coming close enough each time that I could smell the stench of dirt and stale sweat on them.

  Then, finally, we came to the source of the vibration, near the edge of a natural basin.

  “Get down,” Camille said.

  I flattened myself next to her at the lip of the basin, and as soon as we were down, Camille grabbed my arm and used her power once more. Yet this time, it seemed more precautionary than when we had been at risk of being seen by the sand walkers. This time, while I could see more of the remnants of humanity than I cared to, there were none close enough to pose a real danger.

  “What the fuck,” I breathed, not really asking a question, but expressing my dismay.

  “Shhh,” Camille replied.

  We had found our quarry. The part wraith, the spellcaster, was sitting in the center of the natural amphitheater, surrounded by sand walkers once again. He was only a couple of hundred paces away, and if I hadn’t known better, I would have thought he was in deep meditation.

  He was sitting in the lotus position, much as I had done earlier in the morning when Camille had stood watch in my place.

  But he wasn’t meditating. He was casting a spell.

  I could see it. All around him, the air was filled with wisps of dark magic, like a visible fog made of ropes of venom. Those ropes wafted about him as if on tiny air currents and seemed to pulse in time with the vibrations of the earth.

  It didn’t take a genius to work out the nature of the spell he was casting.

  The wisps of dark magic only swirled about him until they grew strong enough, and then they left his immediate vicinity, traveling along the ground in every direction.

  I had no idea how long the wraith had been casting his spell, but it was long enough for many of his ribbons of dark magic to locate the sand walkers and draw them to this location.

  The number of revenants he’d found was surprising. Between the two of us, Ash and I must have killed nearly one hundred of them, with Camille dealing with another two dozen. Counting Lady Gamma’s fireball, we must have killed nearly two hundred sand walkers.

  I’d been surprised that the wraith had been able to gather so many in such a desolate place. I’d thought he must have stripped the Wastes of all such creatures already. And yet, in this basin of sand, the wraith had somehow managed to conjure perhaps twice that number again.

  They must have traveled from miles around, coming to his magical call, as obedient as slaves on a chain.

  As obedient as me, dancing to Lady Gamma’s tune.

  I had no idea if the comparison was apt, but it seemed that at least the level of control was the same. The sand walkers had gathered, but there was no sense of chaos that might go hand-in-hand with such creatures.

  Instead, they stuck to their groups of three, four, a dozen, and simply waited, still standing, for their master to speak.

  In an awful way, it was impressive. That this one being, this wraith, could call so many to his metaphorical banner in such a short time. It spoke of the power he could command.

  I reassessed my chances against him, and this time it came up with a very different answer. Why he hadn’t simply waded in by himself to fling magic at me and Ash and be done, I couldn’t say.

  Yet of all the spectacle before us, it wasn’t the gathering of sand walkers that most caught my interest. It wasn’t the wraith in the middle, either, sitting calmly as he gathered his minions. It wasn’t the wafting ribbons of dark magic that swirled around him and swept out into the Wastes to do his bidding.

  Instead, it was the source of his power. Eventually, my eyes landed on someone locked in a cage made of random pieces of old metal.

  All at once, the wraith’s threat came back to me. “Your strength will become my own.” Suddenly, they now made more sense than they had at the time.

  I’d thought the wraith was talking in riddles, but as it turned out, he was speaking the literal truth. This spellcaster had already collected another. It was difficult to clearly see who it was in the distance, so I took a small risk and fed a tendril of my chi power into my AC lens, and set it to Distance Vision.

  It responded, and the cage seemed to jump toward me so that it felt as if could reach out and touch it.

  35

  The wraith’s prisoner was like no one I had yet seen. At first glance, she seemed human—a delicate, red-haired beauty fading in the heat of the day. But when I looked closer, I clearly saw the wings on her back, like those of an oversized butterfly. And as an added bonus, she had a pair of antennae as well.

  But it wasn’t just the heat that was causing her distress. The wraith had planted his staff in the ground right beside him. As he was drawing dark magic from the glowing crystal at the top, the staff in turn was drawing power from the woman.

  It was just as the wraith had said. He was somehow making use of this woman’s power, and making it into his own. As he drew it from the butterfly woman, it was the essence of light, but as soon as it touched the staff, it became tainted.

  I knew without asking that the woman had some sort of chi power. Just like me, just like Camille and the rest. This was why the wraith had wanted to keep us alive. He didn’t care about us but wanted access to the power we carried.

  I didn’t need the confirmation, but I switched the mode of the AC lens to bring up the butterfly woman’s stats.

  Class: Human hybrid/mutation

  Dominant DNA: Human (90%)

  Additional DNA: Butterfly + assorted others (10%)

  Height: 5’3”

  Weight: 95 pounds

  Age: 22 (approx.)

  Gender: Female

  Mutation: Chi power (weightlessness)

  It told me what I could easily guess, and also categorized the butterfly woman’s power level at III.

  But none of this could tell me what I could learn simply by looking at her face. She was beautiful, and seemed to encapsulate the concept of innocence. Or at least, as innocent as it was possible to get in this world. She reminded me strongly of the redhead I had met in the bar before I shipped out, the one who was long lost by now.

  I couldn’t help but feel it was a tragedy that this butterfly girl had been caught by this monster. Nor did I know how long she could survive with th
e wraith draining her chi, but it couldn’t be long. Already, she appeared withered.

  “There are too many of them,” Camille whispered, stating the obvious. “We cannot do as Lady Gamma has asked. We could not even reach the spellcaster with all of his sand walkers about, let alone end his life.” She paused for a moment, then continued. “We need to get back to the others and tell them what we have seen. Prepare them for what is to come.”

  I understood what she meant. This gathering of sand walkers suggested only one thing. The wraith hadn’t given up on adding me, Gamma, and Camille to that cage, although if he wanted to add Ash as well, he would have to make it considerably larger.

  Yes, this gathering of sand walkers was meant for us.

  But my train of thought had differed from Camille’s.

  “We can’t leave her there,” I said. “We have to figure out a way to take her with us.”

  “What? No,” Camille said. “It’s impossible. We have to get back to the others. Together, we have a chance.”

  But I was already shaking my head. “If it was you in the cage, how would you feel?”

  Camille was still invisible. I couldn’t see her face but sensed her anger anyway. “It wouldn’t be me in the cage!” she said, her words still quiet enough to avoid being overheard, yet filled with righteous anger. “Her situation is hopeless. I would have used one of my knives and opened a vein before things got that bad.”

  It was strange arguing with a disembodied voice. “And yet, I took your knives from you,” I said. “You were my prisoner. I could have put you in a cage, just like her, and you wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it.”

  Silence. Then, “It’s still impossible. Look at them all! How many sand walkers can you fight your way through? All of them? And if you could, then why not swing your oversized sword at the spellcaster as well? Finish the job once and for all?”

  I understood what she was doing. The idea of a full-frontal attack was ridiculous, and we both knew it. There were simply too many of the sand walkers, and the wraith’s capabilities were unknown.