And how else could I feel but happy?
I’d been kissed in a Bozo’s.
Chapter 17
Bodi and I shared the news of our discovery at Bozo’s with the others.
“Not much to go on,” Sparrow said.
“But it is something,” Enrique added, showing the first glimmer of hope I’d seen in him thus far.
Legba rubbed his chin then said, “Very good. We shall carry on.”
We loaded back into the trolley. I discovered the sisters sitting on their cots, heaps of satin, lace, and other pretty things all around them.
Bodi pulled out the vest he had found and handed it to Tiny. “This may fit you, big man,” he said.
Tiny smiled. The look was endearing. He tried the garment on, grinning as he did. I was glad to see that it fit him.
“Thanks,” he said, patting Bodi on the shoulder.
Bodi passed out some of his finds to the others as well. Legba passed around the metal lighters he’d recovered. Enrique rose and extended his hand to me. In it was a book.
“This was under the counter at one of the stores. I thought you would like it.”
Surprised, I took the leather-bound book from his hand. I turned it on its spine to find written in golden letters, The Poetry of Lord Byron.
“Thank you,” I said, trying to hide the catch in my voice.
I dug into my bag and pulled out the T-shirt I’d picked up for him.
He took the shirt, staring at it a moment. He ran his hand across the fabric.
Knowing exactly what he was thinking, I reached out and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. Even when the others from The Park had passed between Low Tide and our community, no one gave a second thought to scavenging anymore. There just wasn’t time. Aside from the delivery from Low Tide, nothing new had come into The Park for years.
Enrique gave me a soft smile, stowed the shirt, then went and sat back down.
I ran my hand over the worn brown leather of the book cover. I thought I remembered an entry in an encyclopedia on Byron but had never read his poetry. I opened up the book and read the first poem I found.
At the back of the trolley, Manderly finished storing whatever goods she’d uncovered in a trunk, then she signaled to Legba that she was ready to go.
Bodi slipped onto the bench beside me.
I looked up from the book to him, meeting his eyes. They shimmered with hues of blue and green tinted with flecks of gold. Such beautiful colors, like a kaleidoscope, seemed easy to get lost in. He slipped his hand into mine as the trolley set off.
When I found Ash, how was I going to goodbye to Bodi? It would be a long time before the Dead Troupe returned to The Park. How was I going to be able to just let him go? The thought seemed impossible.
The trolley set back off.
“New hat?” Lyra asked Bodi, who nodded. “Check this out,” she said then set a petite crown on her head. The gems on the princess crown sparkled.
Bodi laughed.
“I got one too,” Nara said, showing off her crown, which had a heart-shaped red gem at the center. “Want one, Keyes?”
I shook my head. “I’m not fashionable enough. It looks like you did well though,” I said, motioning to their finds.
Nara sighed. “Yeah, but all the good stuff was in the back. Not safe. But the fabric on these are in good shape, not too faded. They just need a few stitches, and we’ll be back in business.”
“I’ve already got a hundred ideas for skits,” Lyra said dreamily. “Oh, we should do a Beauty and the Beast. You remember that story? Enya used to like that one.”
“Yeah,” Nara said. I heard a small catch in her voice.
“Bodi’s wailer could be the beast. That should have them pissing in their pants and cheering at the end,” Lyra said. “You hear that one, Legba?”
Legba nodded. “Sounds good. Make some notes.”
“No one asked me if I want to be the beast,” Bodi protested. “Maybe I want to be Beauty.”
“Which gown would you like to wear?” Lyra asked with a laugh.
They all chuckled.
“We’ll give it a try at the next stop after Low Tide,” Nara said.
“What is your next stop after Low Tide?” I asked.
Nara paused. No one answered. Instead, the others looked to Legba, who looked over his shoulder at me.
“The Palms,” he told me.
“The Palms,” I repeated. I thought back to the map in Park Building. The Palms was the next community north along the seashore.
I stroked my necklace, looking down at the abalone shell. I’d always wanted to go to Low Tide, to see the ocean. Now, I had my chance. Assuming nothing was wrong, it would be wonderful. Assuming.
But once more, I felt a nagging ache in my stomach.
Bodi reached out and gently held the shell in the palm of his hand.
“It belonged to my mother. My father gave it to her. He brought it back on one of his trips to Low Tide. My dad…he used to be one of the people who made the trips between the communities.”
“What happened to him?” Bodi asked.
“Solar sickness. I was very little.”
He nodded sadly.
The trolley navigated around an upside down bus and past the tall business buildings and empty cafés and restaurants.
“Legba,” Tiny called from the back. “Tires.”
The trolley slowed to a stop once more.
Tiny passed the others and went to the front. He and Legba got out. I could hear them talking in undertones then finally Legba stuck his head back inside.
“Not much to see here, but come out if you want a look. There’s a tire shop. We’ll look and see if there is anything for the trolley,” Legba said.
I got out with the others.
“We’ll go there,” Lyra and Nara told Legba, pointing toward what looked like a play place for children.
“Papa,” Manderly said. “Sparrow and I will canvass this block.”
He nodded.
Following Legba and Tiny, Bodi, Enrique, and I went to the tire store. The glass door was closed and locked. Tiny knocked out the glass just above the lock with his elbow. The sound of shattering glass echoed across the empty city. To my surprise, it startled a flock of birds that squawked loudly and flew off from a rooftop nearby.
“Seagulls,” I said, watching as the white and black birds flew off, heading east.
Bodi eyed the buildings around us warily, scanning the black windows above.
Knocking away the glass, Tiny opened the door, and we went inside.
Legba and Tiny began scouring the place for tires for the trolley. The shop had an odd smell. There was a scent of decaying carpet, dirt, and old rubber. There was also the strangely feral smell of the wailers that seemed to permeate everything.
I checked out the tires that had been on display in the front window. “Dry rotted,” I said.
Tiny nodded then began looking through the stack of tires sitting there.
I looked around the room. A few patch kits hung on the wall, but their glue had dried up long ago. Otherwise, there was not much there. At the back of the room was the checkout counter. The register was covered with inches of dust. I slipped around behind the counter. There was a stack of colorful advertisements lying there, held down by a glass paperweight. I picked up the item. It was a pretty thing, a round glass sphere full of bubbles, imperfections left behind by the maker. It reminded me of the crystal ball in The Wizard of Oz. I slipped it into my bag then started digging through the counter. I found dried-out pens, pencils, petrified candy, and other slips of paper. I grabbed the pencils then knelt to start looking through the boxes below the counter. Tossing the useless items aside, an odd sensation suddenly crept over me, and I felt a chill. Along with it, my nose caught a whiff of that awful smell.
Something clattered in the closed storage room just behind me.
Everyone froze.
The door to the storage room behind me slowly opened, the
door squeaking on its hinges.
My hands shook.
“Keyes,” Legba whispered. “Move away slowly.”
I looked over my shoulder to see that Tiny, Lebga, and Bodi all had their guns trained on the door. Surprised, Enrique pulled one of the two shotguns off his back and took aim.
Moving slowly, Bodi worked his way toward me. “Here,” he whispered, reaching out to me.
I pulled my box cutter from my belt, pushing out the blade. I turned to face the door then began to back slowly away.
The door opened a crack more. A dank smell rose from inside. A moment later, four fingers with long, black claws wrapped around the door, pulling it open slowly. Then, a large black eye peered out at me.
Gasping, I backed away quickly, keeping my small blade in front of me.
The creature shrieked. There was a rush of cold air as the door swung open, the wailer leaping out to catch me.
I slashed, shocked when my small razor connected with flesh.
The wailer screeched.
Turning, I ran toward Bodi.
The sound of gunshots rang through the place.
The creature shrieked and fell to the floor.
“Another one,” Enrique shouted.
More gunshots echoed through the room. There was a loud yip, and a strangled scream as another wailer fell dead just outside the storage room door.
Howls of protest rose up inside from the storage room.
Good God, how many of them were there?
“Back to the street,” Legba said.
Turning, we all rushed outside. Bodi followed last, his gun still trained on the door. Once we were finally back in the light of day, I turned and looked back inside. I saw movement beyond the door and the mirrored flash of the wailers’ eyes as they paced.
A moment later, the door to the storage room slammed shut.
My hands shook. Nat was right. These things could think. They were intelligent. That wailer had watched me, hunted me. And they knew well enough to block out the light.
“You okay?” Bodi asked, setting his hand on my shoulder. He peered into my eyes, looking carefully at me.
I nodded. “Yeah, just…spooked.”
“As you should be. But I think you can put that away now,” he added, pointing to my box cutter.
I looked at the razor. It was covered in blood.
“Dammit,” I whispered. Pulling out a rag, I cleaned the sharp blade. It wasn’t enough to do much damage, but it had caused enough of a diversion to save my life. I cleaned the blade off, retracted the razor, then slipped it back into my toolbelt.
“Too close,” Legba said with a frown, glaring back at the store. “That one was very bold.”
“Lucky, though,” Tiny said.
We all turned to look at him, thinking he was talking about shooting the wailer, only to see he was holding a tire.
“Right size,” he added.
Despite ourselves, we all chuckled.
Manderly and Sparrow came rushing down the street toward us.
“Papa?” Manderly called.
“We’re good,” he told her, lifting his hands to reassure her.
The sisters appeared a moment later, bags in one hand, guns in the other.
“Legba?” Nara called.
“Clear now,” he replied.
Tiny set the tire on the top of the trolley, Bodi climbing up the ladder to secure it on the top. As the others stowed their finds, I stared back at the building. My heart was still slamming in my chest. That thing had been watching me. It sneaked up on me and had been waiting for the right moment to grab me. It could have yanked me into the back before I even knew what was happening.
Tiny came and stood beside me. He followed my gaze toward the building. Once more, he reached into his coat to produce the small, silver handgun. He offered it to me again.
Exhaling deeply, this time I took the gun.
Tiny smiled, patted me on the head, and then got back into the trolley.
I looked down at the weapon then back up at the building. Making sure the safety was on, I slipped the gun into one of the slots on my belt, hoping like hell I would never have to use it.
Chapter 18
After the near miss, we headed out. The mood had darkened inside the trolley, and the sisters gazed thoughtfully out the windows rather than showing off their prizes, which looked to be tambourines, maracas, and bells—all things the troupe should be excited to find. But the looming shadow of the wailers seemed to sully everything. Even small joys were easily lost.
We drove through the city to the easternmost end. Reading the faded road signs, I could see that Legba was following the highway from Hell’s Passage to the seaside. He eased the trolley down an off-ramp and wove around forgotten automobiles until he reached a road that ran north-south. He turned the vehicle north. As we drove, I noticed that the shops along the way seemed geared toward tourism. Many of the buildings here had collapsed, or their roofs had decayed, but I saw faded images of beach balls, dolphins, and shells on the various marquis. We were close.
Manderly joined Legba at the front, looking at a map.
“There,” Enrique said, pointing to a faded sign that said One Mile Pier.
The trolley turned in that direction.
I scanned the horizon, hoping to see the blues and greens of the sea. Instead, a terrible fishy smell wafted into the trolley.
“Ugh,” Lyra groaned. “We must be close.”
And then I saw it. The trolley drove down a slope toward a parking lot at the end of a long pier which jutted out into what was left of the ocean. But there was no water anywhere near this end of the pier. In fact, decaying boats sat in the mud. Docks sat empty. The ocean had retreated from the land. Only off in the distance, where the pier widened at the end, did I see a swirl of dark water.
“Low Tide,” Bodi whispered.
Legba drove carefully toward the pier. Wood, metal, and concrete barricades prevented him from getting close to the entrance of the pier. He pulled the trolley to the nearest roadblock and parked. And then we waited.
And waited.
My eyes scanned the pier. The long pier had been enclosed in wire and fortified with metal shielding. Where the pier met the land, a series of elaborate gates had been constructed. Sharp razor wire and deadly looking spikes covered the poles below the pier. There was no way the wailers could get close without serious injury.
We waited some more.
The others started to shift nervously.
I realized then that they had been waiting for someone to come greet them, or for any sign. Thus far, nothing was moving. Nothing at all.
Ash? Ash, are you here?
Legba clicked off the ignition.
“Not exactly rolling out the red carpet today, are they?” Lyra said jokingly, but her tone was flat. It was clear to everyone that the lack of…well, anything, was not a good sign.
“Everyone armed. Sparrow, have a look,” Legba said.
The little man nodded then headed outside. I felt the trolley shake as he climbed up top.
After a few minutes, Sparrow called down. “Dead as a dormouse.”
“Not good,” Lyra mumbled.
“Weapons. Let’s go have a look,” Legba told us.
We all got out. Climbing up a couple of rungs on the ladder, I pulled out my monocular and scanned the pier. At the very end of the jetty, the boardwalk widened. There were buildings there, a wall built around them. It looked well-fortified. At the end of the pier, the poles below the pier disappeared into the water. But nothing moved. There was no one anywhere.
“Where is the guard?” Manderly whispered.
Legba shook his head. “It’s been a long time since we’ve come this way. There is usually a guard on the pier, isn’t there?” he asked Enrique, who nodded.
“No sign that the wailers penetrated the fortifications,” I said, scanning the long pier. “Everything seems to be in place. No sign of fire. I don’t even see any sign of small arms
discharge.” Everything looked fine. It was just too quiet.
“Could be illness,” Manderly whispered.
Legba nodded.
“Or something else,” Lyra said under her breath, earning her a reproachful look from Legba.
She looked away from him but met my gaze. There was a story there. Lyra knew…something. Her eyes held a warning.
“Sparrow, mind the trolley,” Legba called up to him.
“As you wish, Boss.”
Moving carefully, everyone’s weapons drawn, the rest of us headed toward the entrance of the pier. There was a series of cages and gates there. They were closed but not locked. We worked our way through and onto the pier.
My stomach knotted. I reminded myself that maybe everyone was just inside the community—which you could be seen clearly—at the other end. Maybe they were just busy. Maybe they were out fishing. My trembling hands, however, told a different story.
Ash, where are you?
As we went, I scanned everything, everywhere, searching for a clue as to what was happening here. There was no sign of trouble. Nothing seemed out of place.
As we came close to the walled community area, I spotted a pulley system attached to the boardwalk.
“Wait,” I said and stepped forward to investigate.
Enrique followed along behind me. “It’s a drawbridge,” he said.
My eyes followed the lines of steel rope that led inside the community where the pulley system was housed. It was a brilliant design. Once the bridge was lifted, there was no way a wailer—or a person—could get inside.
“Bridge is down,” Lrya observed. “That’s good, right?”
“They keep it down during the day, and pull it up at night,” Enrique said.
Legba eyed the tall doors ahead. They were open just a crack, only wide enough for a person to pass. I also realized Legba was straining to listen. There was no noise coming from inside. Nothing.
It was eerily silent.
“Just like The Bridge,” Bodi whispered to Legba.
Legba nodded. “We will look. If I give the word, we all go. All of us,” he said, turning to look at Enrique—who nodded—then to me. His eyes locked on mine.
Scorched: The Last Nomads Page 11
