Akasha 4 - Earth

by Terra Harmony

  Clay's boots pounded against the ground with each labored step. "Marissa stayed with them. There'll be hell to pay when Shawn finds out. We need to come up with a good excuse."

  "What we need to do is stop Shawn before he gets to Utah."

  Clay looked back at the ground, concentrating on the pair of boots in front of him, keeping up. "We needed to stop Shawn years ago."

  "I know, but…we’re here now, and this is what we have to work with. I'm thinking we make a stand in Denver." I adjusted my shirt over my tattoos. The skin was still tender, like I had rug burn.

  Clay began to pant.

  I fell in behind him, unstrapped the sleeping bag and tarp from the top of his backpack, and held them under my arms. Maybe he'd do better if his load was lighter. "We need time to organize. If we slow the group down, they won't be able to pass over the Rockies in winter. We'll have a few months to coordinate. What can we do to slow the march?"

  Clay ran his fingers through his beard. "Sicknesses, disease – an outbreak of some sort. Or weather, maybe. How are your powers?"

  "I got some of them back. Air and water, though I can't go too extreme with them." I smiled, thinking of my wild ride over. The rain jacket plus a few old rods made a makeshift hang glider; just add air. "Besides, manipulating the weather could give me away."

  "You're right, it would need to be something subtle…" he said.

  "What did you have in mind?" I asked.

  Clay rubbed his chin. I glanced behind us. As the pace slowly picked up, the column of people became more strung out. I saw someone shift to the edge of the trail, and a steady stream of people began to pass her. Erika. Two women stuck with her, taking a few items to lighten her load and give her what encouragement they could. But how many miles could that last? How many more miles did David have planned for us today?

  I grumbled, then hopped out of the column, feigning a cramp and falling to the ground.

  Clay followed, crouching next to me. "Well this isn't exactly subtle."

  "Shut up and call for a medic," I mumbled through my lips.

  He turned, opening up his throat. A deep voice rolled up to the front of the line, "Medic!"

  The line stopped, curious faces turning my way. Three men came trudging toward me; two carried the extra gear of doctors. The other was David. "What now?" he asked.

  I put my hand at my side. "I've got cramps."

  One of the medics handed me his canteen of water. "You're probably dehydrated."

  I pushed the canteen away. "Not those kind of cramps – female cramps."

  "Oh." The medic scratched the back of his neck. "I don't think…well, we don't have anything for that."

  The other stood, looking at David. "Maybe we should take a five minute break?"

  "We just took a break!"

  The medic shrugged, glancing at me. "I don't know what else to do; we're running low on aspirin."

  David's faced turned red. "You don't know? You're the medic!"

  As they argued, Clay slipped away behind the growing crowd of people.

  The other doctor rooted in his bag. He held up a foil-wrapped bar. "I've got chocolate."

  I buried my face in my hands, shaking my head, trying to keep everyone from seeing the smile I could not get rid of.

  David's whole body shook, but clearly for a different reason. He stomped toward me. "Get up – we don't have time for cramps! That's not a real medical condition, anyway!"

  "What's not a real medical condition?"

  David turned to address the questioner.

  Erika stood in front of the crowd, arms crossed, clearly not amused. "Well?"

  David stuttered, "I didn't mean…" He gestured toward me. "She just…"

  "She just what?" More women, many I recognized from Erika's camp, emerged to stand around David.

  David pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Listen – we have a schedule to keep." He held up his notebook, pointing to an open page. "I'm just following orders."

  "You aren't going to make it if people start dropping like flies; female problems or no." Erika dropped her pack. "Break time!" she shouted.

  Her announcement was met with a few approving whistles, some claps, and a 'Hallelujah'. She stepped toward David, and snatched the notebook out of his hand.

  "Hey!" he protested.

  She glanced at the open page. "I'll be making a few adjustments to the schedule. If you want the group to get there as a whole; I suggest you follow it." Erika walked past David and took a seat on the ground next to me.

  I handed her a pencil, no longer bothering to hide the smile on my face.

  David was still stuttering, "You…you – I'm going to report this. Give me back my—"

  "We've got flats!" A bellow from the back of the line cut David off.

  "Oh, for Christ's sake. Flats?! As in more than one?" David shouted as he headed toward the truck bed gardens.

  "As in all of them!" the voice answered back.

  "How in the world? Get some Airs over here!" David ordered.

  My eye caught a short figure slinking away from the truck beds. Clay. My smile grew wider.

  Chapter 38

  The Best Thing

  By the time we reached Denver, one month from when we started, David was a hot mess. After the first few incidents, Clay, Erika and I had very little to do with it. People caught on, making a game out of trying to drive David insane.

  Very quickly our thirty miles a day had dropped to twenty, often falling even below fifteen. Half the camp developed the stomach flu – something I still couldn't determine was real or fake. We were now two and a half weeks behind schedule.

  Shawn's river group had long since reached the mile high city, or so said the scouts. He sat waiting not-so-patiently for the rest of us. Word of the prisoner's escape also reached him. Something else for David to deal with.

  Train would be the transportation of choice over the Rockies, and word on the trail was Shawn needed certain people from our group to help with steam technologies.

  Excitement buzzed up and down the long line of people as we entered downtown Denver, and the 16th Street Mall. It was an outdoor mall, running the length of several blocks with stores on either side of the cobble-stoned street. Despite the self-created slow gait of the rest of the march, everyone was now picking up the pace – many had an actual spring in their step. This was home for some.

  I gravitated toward Erika.

  "I can't believe how much I missed this weird place." She wouldn’t stop talking. "Every year at Christmas the entire capital building was lit in color. I never missed the Parade of Lights – every float, band member, and clown was decorated in actual lights by portable battery packs."

  Despite the lack of batteries, 16th Street Mall was alive and illuminated, cutting through the dull, black night with a light all its own. The promenade of red-and-gray granite, running through the center of Downtown, wasn't cracked and crumbling. It wasn't run over with plant life as we had seen in the concrete jungles of most big cities. Except for the glow of lanterns lining the path, it probably looked much the same.

  "It's almost like Daybreak never happened, here. Look how happy everyone is," I said aloud.

  Erika smiled. "Come on, let me show you." She took my arm and we broke rank, crossing the pedestrian path to the other side.

  I looked back to the rest of the group. People noticed, but no one cared – Erika could do what she wanted, after all. The rest of One Less turned right, off the street and in between two glass-walled skyscrapers.

  "You might appreciate this as an Earth." She winked at me. We approached a large planter in the middle of the sidewalk. "These are up and down the length of the mall. They used to hold decorative trees, shrubs, and flowers – you know, useless stuff."

  I ran my hand through the leafy greens, blossoming over the side of the planter despite the cold weather.

  "After Daybreak, the community came together. Stoners, college kids, the rich, the homeless, families with kids –
we all created a food system that works, and feeds everyone. It was really the agricultural knowledge of the large Hispanic population that saved us."

  I looked down the way at another planter. A woman and a child were pawing through it, picking out ripe squash. "How do you ration the food?"

  Erika shrugged. "We don't. People know that if the vegetables are over-harvested, there won't be any seeds for next year. Besides, a lot of hard work goes into it – and there is plenty to go around. Some leftover, even, that is used for compost or shipped off to neighboring cities in exchange for other supplies. Look over there."

  She pulled on my arm until we approached a rectangular, stepped enclosure. Chicken wire hung from a railing on one side, infused with vines.

  "Writer Square. This used to be a fountain. We took any space we could and turned it into a food source."

  As she talked I turned around, mouth dropping open. Buses facing both directions of the street sat where they had probably stalled out during the EMP. The tops were torn off and the windows knocked out. Corn stalks grew out of one, a row of fruit trees from the other. The words 'free mall ride' were still visible on the sides of the busses.

  Behind us, the mall was lined with what had previously been bars, restaurants, and retail stores. On the left, all of the infrastructure was still intact. People entered and exited the building with baskets of supplies, sleeping bags and more food – like they were out for their daily shopping trip. Across the way, every single window was broken out. There were even holes in the brick and mortar façade of the buildings. Plants and herbs, growing inside, were packed in where dresses and shoes used to be.

  "Brings a whole new meaning to window shopping," Erika said, nudging me. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

  I smiled at her enthusiasm. A man passed, whistling. He tipped his hat at us. I nodded back. Further up the outdoor mall, a large group sat around a pair of teenagers playing a guitar and banjo. In sync clapping sprouted up and people got to their feet to dance.

  Erika waived at one of them, then turned to me. "Daybreak is the best thing that could've happened to this place."

  The smile froze on my face, and my ears rang with her words. I was shocked - because she was right.

  Chapter 39

  Expediting the Process

  "It's been awhile; we had almost given up hope," Arianna greeted Shawn on the platform.

  "Burns take a long time to heal," Shawn said.

  Especially with no more skin graft surgery, he thought to himself.

  "Let's see." Arianna gestured to his hands.

  He held them up for her. The swelling had gone down. Yellow puss was replaced by angry red and pink tissue.

  "Any infections?" she asked, gesturing to his unwrapped hands.

  "We have medicine, for now," he replied, looking at the women assembling on the stairs. "How many will there be today?"

  "As many as you can handle, Athame Wielder." Arianna moved to stand behind him.

  "What about you? Aren't you anxious to be released?" Shawn asked. Without her there, maybe he could find some sort of shortcut.

  She cocked her head at him, almost smiling. "I will go right before Sarah."

  Of course she will. Shawn huffed.

  He turned to the first waiting in line. A Water this time. He craned his neck around her, and motioned for another to step forward as well.

  "What are you doing?" Arianna asked.

  Shawn held one of each of his hands over the Shade's heads. "Expediting the process. My second crew just reached Denver – I need to go greet them."

  Chapter 40

  A Little Crazy

  "Erika, wait!"

  She paused and turned as we headed to where One Less set up camp.

  "I have a confession to make."

  She raised her eyebrow and waited.

  I cleared my throat. "I…um. Well, the reason I hid in your group…um—"

  "Just spit it out." She crossed her arms.

  "Well, I had a thing with Shawn, and I can't see him again. I don't want him to see me."

  She stepped forward, gesturing to the side of my face now caked with ink. "With the number you did on yourself, I doubt he'd recognize you."

  "Maybe…" I ran my fingers through my short strands, trying to convince myself of the same.

  "Look, if you want to disappear – this is the place to do it. I can make it look like our camp numbers are still whole. But you gotta make a decision. In or out."

  "In, definitely in." I didn't walk all that way just to quit now. "But I thought, maybe I could stay away, just for tonight. That way you can let me know if he is there – and where he hangs out. I could just avoid those areas."

  She crossed her arms, looking me up and down. "Okay, meet me back at Writer Square tomorrow around dusk. That should give me enough time to find out. But don't leave the mall. Things aren't so nice in some parts of the city."

  I nodded and watched her walk away. I turned in the other direction, watching the people around me as I strolled. As night, and the cold, set in – there was less and less activity on the streets. I looked closer at the stores. Starbucks had grain sprouting out of its broken out windows. Ann Taylor Loft was now a trade post specializing in sleeping bags; they even offered repairs. Banks, oddly enough, were still banks. They advertised safety deposit boxes with around the clock guards. What did people store in them now? Certainly not cash. Maybe batteries. Or matches. Or medicine. Everything we had taken for granted until Daybreak.

  I stopped at the next intersection, glancing down a darkened street that ran past an old movie theatre. I hesitated, drawn in. I needed to prove Erika and Shawn wrong. I needed to prove Daybreak was not the best thing for humanity; otherwise – what was I here for?

  I soaked in the glow from the lantern above, as if it would keep me safe through the darkest parts of Denver. I left the populated, outdoor mall. My steps echoed in the deserted concrete jungle. I passed in and out of the long shadows cast by buildings. I twisted and turned through the streets, coughing, humming, and occasionally banging on car hoods or kicking glass and rocks across the street, sure to make plenty of noise.

  An hour went by with no human contact. I pulled a thin jacket out of my bag, wishing I had stopped and traded for a thicker one. I zipped it up to my chin, sighed, and turned to head back.

  "What do you want?!" I jumped at the screech behind me. I spun on my heel, and stepped back.

  The man was tall, and very thin. He smelled as though he hadn't bathed in a year – he probably hadn't. I stepped into the light cast by the moon peeking through the clouds.

  He backed away, waving his hands in front of his face as if to fend me off. "Don't like people, don't like people."

  "Wait, I just want to—"

  "No!" He retreated, his scream echoing down the alley.

  "That one probably could've done without Daybreak," I mumbled to myself.

  The smell of old, burnt out wood drew me to a metal trash can sitting at the entrance to the alley. Just outside of it stood a pile of fresh wood, and a piece of flint. Old blankets, a chair missing its back, and a hollowed out computer sat close by. This was his home.

  I put a few pieces of wood in the trash can, and glanced down the alley. No sign of him. I held out my hand.

  Time to find my fire.

  A growl behind me caused me to pause.

  My shoulders sank. Not another one.

  I turned, bracing myself for another dose of crazy. Instead, three wild dogs snarled at me, posed to pounce. My heart jumped to my throat

  I squared my shoulders, racking my brain to remember how to treat the animals – challenge or submit? In the first few months, Alex had quizzed us on the subject, covering a range of beasts. We had never run into dogs; too many had been eaten before they had a chance to go wild. Of course, I had to run into the three exceptions.

  "Sit."

  The one in front of me laid his ears back, and shifted his weight to his front paws.

  "Sit!" I
said again, louder.

  They weren't sitting. Another growl.

  Mumbles echoed from the dark alleyway behind me, "Don't like humans – dogs are worse."

  I rolled my eyes, then held out my hand, praying the art of fire found its way to me. One of the dogs pounced. I ducked, trying to roll under him. His jaws snapped, catching my thin jacket, tearing the sleeve right down to the wrist. Another dog went for my opposite wrist, clamping down on it with his razor sharp teeth.

  I screamed out loud. They pulled and growled until I was on my knees, staring straight into the eyes of the third animal.

  "I could use a little crazy, here!" I hissed into the dark alley behind me. Only whimpers answered my plea for help.

  Looks like I have to find my own crazy.

  I flicked my fingers on my left hand, desperately calling out for the element of fire. The fingers on my right hand refused to move. Fire never came. The dog in front of me curled its lip up, baring his teeth. I was out of time.

  Producing my own growl, I leaned forward and opened my mouth. I bit down as hard as I could, right on the dog's nose. The taste of wet canine and coppery blood filled my mouth.

  He yelped and backed up, pawing at his face. One of the others let go of my jacket sleeve, circled around, and leaped. I cringed, covering my face with my good arm. Mid-jump, the attacking dog let out yelp. It crashed into me and we both went to the ground.

  Instead of another melee, all I felt was dead weight. The dog was not moving. I reached up and around the body on top of me, and felt the long, solid shaft of an arrow protruding from its hide.

  The pressure from my right wrist let up. Sharp teeth retracted, leaving behind searing pain. There was a flurry of growls and barking as I struggled to push the dead dog off of me. As soon as I made it my feet, all I saw was the tail end of two animals retreating into the dark.