Bodi was on stage. He was swinging batons that were on fire. The crowd cheered and clapped for him. He set the rods aside, took a quick swig from a flask on his belt, then grabbed a torch. A moment later he turned, and moving deftly, he blew a fireball into the dimming dusk sky. Again and again, he blew massive streams of fire from his mouth. I was amazed to watch his body move, the fire taking shape with each breath.
The crowd erupted in cheers once more.
He bowed then took out three balls, set each on fire, and juggled them quickly, the flaming balls making arcs of orange light around him. After a few turns, he caught all three then dropped the balls into a bucket where they extinguished. Once more, the community members cheered. To finish off his performance, he lifted a torch and began telling the tale of the devastating sun and its fire. I could not catch all his words from where I was standing, but I watched as he moved, his motions very animated, his eyes wide. I saw him take a quick drink of something. He set a paper globe down on a pedestal, lifted a torch, and breathed fire across the ball that represented our planet. The model of the Earth caught on fire and melted, disappearing into pieces of floating ash under his fiery breath.
The Park’s residents cheered for the performer.
Bodi bowed. When he stood again, he looked across the space toward me. He tipped his hat, sipped his flask again, and lifted the torch. He blew me a fiery kiss.
A few of the residents of The Park followed his gaze, much to my sudden and massive embarrassment. They clapped and cheered. I smiled, abashed, then sat down on the corner of the roof to watch the rest of the performance.
While Ash had a budding relationship with Nasir, another of The Park’s residents who also went on the run to Low Tide with my sister—and was also missing—I’d never found anyone in my small community who drew my attention. Granted, I spent a lot of time in the library or in the garage, and most of the boys my age were busy chasing the more attentive girls, but I never really had any reason to notice any of them. They were just the same scruffy boys I’d grown up with, not interested in much, not interesting at all.
Bodi was different. As part of the Dead Troupe, he’d no doubt had dalliances everywhere he went…except, that wasn’t what the sisters had said. And, really, it hardly mattered. In a few days, he would be gone. What I needed to do now was focus on finding a way to get to Ash. Maybe it didn’t hurt anything that Bodi had an eye for me. It would make convincing the Dead Troupe to take me with them to Low Tide easier. It wasn’t like I was really interested in him anyway. Right?
But if I wasn’t, why could I still feel the burn of a blush in my cheeks?
Chapter 9
It was dusk when the Dead Troupe’s performance ended. Legba took the stage and, from what I could make out, began answering questions. Curious, I climbed down from the trolley and joined the crowd.
“How far north have you traveled?” Raj asked.
Legba nodded thoughtfully. “A few years past, we were as far north as what was once Canada. Around the puddles of mud that were the Great Lakes. Maybe again one day. There is not much life left there. We visited four communities and found no one. We didn’t go further.”
“What happened to them?”
Legba spread his hands. “Solar sickness, perhaps. Two communities were deserted, two were graves.”
“And to the south of us?” Devyn, a friend of Carrington, asked.
“Much as it is here.”
“How many days does it take to get to the next community south of us? Red Hills, right?” Devyn asked, looking to Carrington for confirmation.
Carrington, whose eyes betrayed she’d already heard much of this information in private, nodded.
“A week.”
“You survived on the road a week?” someone asked.
Lebga smiled. “We are the Dead Troupe.”
“Is it…is it green anywhere?” Maria asked.
I saw her hand drift toward her stomach, confirming my suspicions. Faraday and Maria were expecting a child.
Legba nodded. “Oh, yes. In many places. In some places, too green.”
Too green? What did that mean?
“And the wailers, are they everywhere?” someone asked.
“Deep to the south, where it is too hot for any living thing, there are few. Neither man nor wailer can survive there. The southernmost communities are gone. Otherwise, they are everywhere. Some communities have found ways to deter them. The burning road is still dangerous, my friends. Besides the wailers, the monster that is mankind is still everywhere you go. Granted, we are much fewer now.”
“You said some communities found ways to deter the wailers. Deter them how?” Ronan asked.
“A few years ago, we learned the wailers are susceptible to high-frequency noise. Now we have speakers on our trolley. They cannot abide the sound. And they are still mortal. They cannot endure fire or weapons. Or worse.”
“Is anywhere thriving?” Doge, an older man in the audience asked. “Crossroads? When I was young, people still traveled there.”
“They still do, but not so many now. People are fewer, and the wailers are more. To the north, two communities are doing well, but they have very different ideologies. We are following the coast east. We will learn their fate in the coming months.
“Where? Which communities?” Samara asked.
“New Washington, and another community further inland that we found quite by accident.”
“Where is it? What’s it called?” Doge asked.
Legba smiled and spread his hands wide. “I cannot say. They asked us not to share, so we do not.”
That silenced the crowd. A hush fell over the assembled group as they were lost in their thoughts. The world beyond us was not much safer than the world behind our walls. Between wailers and mankind and ideologies, we were, perhaps, lucky that the burning road was impassable.
The first of the wailers called somewhere in the distance.
The day was done.
Ramsey, who’d been sitting on a bench, rose. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes. “Let’s thank the Dead Troupe for their news and merriment,” he said, turning and applauding the assembled group.
The Park’s residents, their smiles subdued, clapped in appreciation.
“Night has come again, my friends. It is time to depart,” Ramsey said. “The Dead Troupe has promised to stay with us one more evening before they go on their way—”
“Are they going to Low Tide?” Maria interrupted.
The smiles faded.
Everyone looked at Ramsey, who stiffened.
“Are they going to Low Tide? I mean, if they are going to travel anyway, they could see what happened at Low Tide. They could take word to our people that we’re worried,” Maria said.
Ramsey’s mouth tightened into a thin line, and he lowered his chin toward his chest. “I have informed Legba of our situation. We will make arrangements. Now, good night to all,” he said, motioning for everyone to depart.
Frustrated, Maria rose and headed back toward her house. I saw Carrington go after her. Slowly, the residents of The Park disappeared back into their homes as the sun began to set.
Ramsey and Gutierrez spoke to Legba and Manderly. A moment later, their group turned and headed back toward Park Building. The twins, the big man, and the little bald man began packing the troupe’s goods into trunks.
Bodi turned and came toward me, a smile on his face.
“I didn’t know you were a dragon,” I said.
“Half-man, half-dragon.”
“How did you learn to do that?”
“Boredom, mostly.”
“And the flask,” I said, pointing to the silver flash on his hip. “What’s in there?”
“Want a drink?”
I laughed. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, probably better if you don’t drink it anyway, it’s really just for us dragons. I hear the speakers are fixed. How did you learn to do that?” he asked.
“Bored
om, mostly. That and the fact that nothing ever works, ever. I got tired of waiting around for other people to fix things.”
Bodi nodded thoughtfully. “You’d fit in well where I come from. People there are…inventive.”
“Ah, inventive half-dragons. And just where do you come from?”
“North.”
“That’s…less than specific.”
Bodi smiled. “The place Legba mentioned, well, didn’t mention. I’m from there.”
“The thriving but secret community.”
Bodi nodded.
“Why did you leave, then? I mean, if your community is doing well, why come out here where it’s…”
“Dangerous? Desolate? Hopeless? Remember that boredom I mentioned? Besides, my community is thriving. And we’re hardly doing anyone any good thriving in isolation. I’m…searching.”
“For what?”
“Hope.”
I frowned. “It is in short supply here.”
“Legba told me your community suspects trouble at Low Tide.”
I nodded.
“And the people who are missing? You had someone among them, I think. I can tell from those lines you get around your mouth every time someone mentions it. Boyfriend, maybe?” he raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to me.
Again, something in my chest fluttered, but his flirtation mixed with my worry about Ash made me feel confused. “My sister.”
He raised his eyebrows then nodded.
“I want to come with your group to Low Tide. I need to find out what happened to my sister. Something tells me she ran into trouble. I can’t just sit here and wait for her to come back…or not.”
Bodi nodded thoughtfully. “Will they let you go? Seems like the kind of thing you need to have sanctioned around here.”
I frowned. “You’re right. I have to ask.”
“Then ask. The others like you. Legba will let you come, I’m sure. The only problem is your own people.”
The wailers howled as the last of the sun disappeared from the sky.
“Well, your people and them,” Bodi said, looking back out toward the wasteland.
“Did you see anything on the road nearby? Any sign of people passing through? Any trouble?”
“Nothing on the road near here. But signs of trouble…yes. Everywhere. Legba was relieved to see The Park was still here.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“People missing. People sick. Wailers overtaking communities.”
I frowned then looked toward the gate. “My sister is in trouble.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Then what are you doing here talking to me? If you want my advice, start with the lady.” He pointed to Carrington who was returning from Maria’s house. “Get her on your side. She may convince the others.”
I chuckled. “She might be the last one to be persuaded. She was my mother’s friend, thinks it’s her duty to protect me.”
“Then remind her it’s her obligation to protect your sister. And right now, you’re the one who can get the job done. Besides, I need a new assistant. Ever think of sword swallowing? We could get an act going.”
“Sword swallowing? When was the last time you saw a sword?”
“There’s about five of them in the trolley.”
“Of course there is. I don’t need a sword, but I could use that diesel.”
“The bike?”
I nodded. “If I can get it running, I can ride the bike back from Low Tide.”
“You do see the problem with that plan,” Bodi said.
“Problem?”
“If you sister isn’t there, then what?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He was right. If Ash wasn’t there, what was I going to do?
Bodi set his hand on my shoulder. “In the morning, ask your people. All they can say is no.”
“That’s all they ever say.”
“Keyes from The Park, they can say whatever they want, but in the end, you have a mind and your own two feet. The burning road will be there whether they say yes or no.”
He gently squeezed my shoulder then stepped a bit closer to me.
My hands shook.
“Goodnight,” he whispered, touching me tenderly on the chin.
“Goodnight,” I replied.
He smiled gently then turned and went to join the others packing up the stage.
My knees soft, my heart slamming in my chest, I headed back to my house. For the love of all things holy, why did some random nomad have to show up and just…just…distract me? I needed to focus on finding Ash.
But Bodi was right.
If Ash wasn’t there, then what? How would I ever find her? Or would I? If she wasn’t there, I would have to return to The Park and wait for her, a solution which felt like nothing of the sort.
I slipped into my little house then bolted the door. I lay down on my bed twisting one of the red dreadlocks around my finger.
Of all the times to find someone interesting, why did Bodi have to show up now? I didn’t know what to do with a man, and Ash wasn’t there to ask. I flopped my arm over my eyes and listened to the call of the wailers.
It didn’t matter.
None of it mattered. What mattered was Ash. I would go to Ramsey in the morning.
The worst he could say was no.
And then what?
Chapter 10
I lay in bed listening to the wailers outside. The arrival of the Dead Troupe the night before had them riled up. In soft tones below the cries of wailers, I heard the sound of a flute. I imagined Bodi lying on the top of the trolley looking up at the sky. I thought about the look in his eyes and that gentle touch on my chin. Had anyone ever looked at me like that before?
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a soft knock on the door.
“Keyes?” Carrington called quietly.
Great.
I rose and opened the door.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
I nodded and stepped aside, closing and bolting the door behind me.
“It’s dark in here,” Carrington said. “I’m sorry if you were sleeping.”
“No, just resting,” I said, lighting my small lamp.
Carrington sat down at the table, sighing heavily when she did so.
“Do you want anything? Water? I think I have some…no, sorry, I don’t have anything to eat.”
Carrington chuckled. “No. Thank you. And when is the last time you ate something?”
Her question made me aware of the terrible ache in my stomach. I couldn’t remember, really.
“We’ve spoken to the Dead Troupe,” Carrington said. “There was no sign of Ash and the others on the road. When the Dead Troupe leaves, Enrique will go with them to Low Tide.”
I sat down in the chair opposite her and took a sip from my canteen.
“I’ll go with them,” I said.
Carrington looked at me. “Enrique will go. He will find news.”
“And I’ll go with him.”
“Keyes, there may not be good news to find.”
“No, there may not, but I’ll go with the Dead Troupe and Enrique. I need to see for myself.”
Carrington frowned. “I’m sorry. No. I can’t permit it.”
I rose and went to the door. “You should leave,” I said, setting my hand on the handle. I hope she couldn’t see that my hand was shaking.
“Keyes?” Carrington said, sounding surprised.
“I don’t think we have anything else to talk about,” I said then unbolted the door, opening it.
“I’m…I’m just trying to watch out for you, what Ash and Elena would want me to do.”
I said nothing. Evoking my mother’s name was not going to move me. I was sick of being told what to do.
Carrington rose and stepped outside, but she stopped and looked back at me. “Keyes, I care about you and don’t want you to get hurt…not out there and not in here either,” she said,
casting her glance toward the Dead Troupe’s trolley. The sound of the flute music reached our ears once more. “You know he…well, he isn’t the kind to stick around.”
“Goodnight, Carrington,” I said then closed the door, locking it behind me.
My heart was slamming in my chest. I had never, ever, stood up for myself against Carrington. It wasn’t in my nature. I stayed low, minded my own business, and kept busy with my own interests. It had been my way of surviving. Ash was the outspoken one, the stubborn one, the hot head. Not me. But right now, I needed to channel a little bit of my sister. Carrington said no. Fine. She wasn’t the only person to ask. And tomorrow, I’d be every bit my stubborn hotheaded sister until I got my way.
I leaned against the door and listened to the mixed sounds of the flute and wailers. I closed my eyes. As much as I hate to admit it, Carrington was right about Bodi. He wasn’t the kind to stick around. But it seemed no one was sticking around these days, Ash included. If so, what was I still doing here?
A wailer very close to the fence growled and banged against the gate, a chorus of yips and howls answering, or maybe encouraging, the assault.
The flute music stopped.
The wailers were the reason I was still here. The monsters were real, and they roamed the burning road at night. And my sister was somewhere out there, and no one was looking for her.
Chapter 11
The next morning, I went to the garage to see where Ronan had left off with the bike. It was quiet in the community that morning. The arrival of the Dead Troupe had disrupted the normal flow of life. Inside the walls of The Park, we were so focused on daily survival that most of us rarely thought about the outside world, about the fact that there were others out there who were both dying and thriving. I guessed that everyone had gone to bed that night wondering about the community that was doing well, how they could get there, and what such a place might look like. The Park was in a period of uncertainty, and if Bodi was right about the fate of the other communities, we were right to be worried.
Scorched: The Last Nomads Page 6
