Scorched

by Theresa Shaver

  I bite my lip in uncertainty. What could the guy want if not his brother? I wrack my brain to try and figure out what would drive Boyd to travel so far for but come up empty.

  “Are you sure it was your brother?”

  His jaw tightens and he crosses his arms in anger. “Yeah, he stood up when they came to a stop to talk to those men. I’d recognize him anywhere.”

  My own anger surges. “What does he want from us? Did you take something from him?”

  Beck goes to snap at me but pulls it back and just shakes his head tiredly instead. He looks down the cart at Glo before facing me.

  “No, I didn’t take anything from him except you. He wanted you and he wanted the supplies he thinks you have. You should just let me off here. Maybe I can stop him and convince him to turn back. I’ll tell him you don’t have hardly any supplies.”

  I reach out and punch him in the arm. “I’m not doing that! Like Glo said, we’re a family now and family sticks together. If he finds a way across the river and manages to catch up to us, we’ll deal with him together.”

  He rubs the spot on his arm that my boney knuckles connected with and gives me a small smile.

  “Together?”

  I roll my eyes and nod. “Yes, you idiot, together! Now, let’s go see where we’re headed.”

  I walk back to the front with Beck following and we line up at the windows. The landscape has changed since we crossed over the river. There are quite a few abandoned buildings in the distance on either side of us and the land ahead is rising. The biggest change though is the mountains I can see straight ahead of us, growing taller with every mile we travel toward them. That’s our destination. Somewhere, deep in those mountains is the secret valley and hopefully our new home. We just have to make it there.

  Glo and I stay at the front windows as we climb up the gentle hills toward the mountains that are getting closer. Neither of us has ever seen anything but flat land and we are fascinated by the changes even though it still just sand, scrub, and rock. Just slightly bigger rocks on an incline. Beck returned to the back windows to watch for his brother in case he found a way across the river. There’s still a little more than an hour left on the engine charge and then we’ll have to start pumping again. I know we’ll have a harder time on these hills. Most likely, both Beck and I will have to pump together to make any real speed but the sun will be down in a few more hours so we’ll do what we have to, to make as much distance from the river as possible.

  “Día, what’s that?” I follow the direction Glo is pointing and my eyes flare wide. “Beck! Beck, get back here!”

  I hear his boots pound our way so I just point.

  “Oh, God!”

  His exclamation says it all. The black mass heading our way is an act of God. It’s the sandstorm John said was coming and at the rate we’re going it’ll be less than an hour before we collide with it. I turn to face Beck but before I can ask him what we should do, a gust of wind from the open windows blows half my hair into my face and I hear the sound of blowing sand and small rocks scratch against the outside of the cart.

  “We need to close the windows and hope there’s some cover ahead!”

  Beck nods with fear in his eyes and rushes away. Before I go to help him, I turn and look at the force of nature we are headed for one more time and then past it to the mountains. We were so close!

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Boyd points ahead through the spiderwebbed windshield, ignoring the moaning from the back seat.

  “There! It looks like it was a boat launch or something. Go there, we’ll find a way up on the other side once we cross the stream.”

  Marco’s lips are pulled back with his teeth showing against the pain in his shoulder where an arrow bobs with every jolt the buggy makes. All he wants to do is stop, get out and pull the arrow from his throbbing wound and then try and save Pete’s life. His friend is bleeding out in the back seat from the bullet he took to the chest when those men had opened up on them. He silently curses Boyd for the fool that he is. Who mouths off to a larger group of men with that many weapons pointed at them? If it was up to him, he would have turned around right then and there and forgotten all about the girl and the gold. The sharp jab of Boyd’s gun in his side reminds him that he isn’t in charge and that he now no longer has any choices.

  “I said turn there!” Boyd snarls at him before removing the barrel from his side and jabbing it towards the direction he wants Marco to drive to. “We can’t let them get too far this time. We almost have them!”

  Marco doesn’t reply but turns in the direction the man wants. He will follow along for now but when his chance comes, he will take that gun from Boyd and leave his corpse for the coyotes. He doesn’t care about the girl or the gold anymore. He just wants to go back to town and when the food runs out, they could make a plan from there. He’s not going to die alone all the way out here on a fool’s errand.

  The buggy navigates down the old river bank and the small stream with ease but the rougher terrain has him screeching in agony as the arrow stuck in him waves back and forth. He wants to reach up and pull it out but he’s afraid the blood loss will do him in and then Boyd will shove him out and keep going. He has no choice but to leave it in until they’re forced to stop. The charge will only last another hour or so and then he can patch himself up and take on Boyd. From the lack of moaning from Pete, he assumes his friend is gone and he’ll be on his own.

  It takes a while to find a way out of the river basin and then get back to the train tracks. They’ve been traveling for almost an hour since they lost sight of the weird train car they are chasing. The terrain has changed to uphill as they head east through abandoned buildings and Marco watches as the charge meter starts to drop faster as the small buggy is forced to work harder. He leans forward off of his seat to try and get some air to cool his sweat soaked back and feels a wave of dizziness wash over him. He doesn’t realize that the arrow in his shoulder has gone all the way through and all the bobbing of the shaft has widened the exit wound causing his lifeblood to pour out down his back at a faster rate.

  Black wings fill his vision at the edges of his eyes and he jolts when Boyd reaches out and yanks the steering wheel back on course from where it has started to drift. His head clears long enough to understand the words being shouted at him.

  “Pull over to that building!”

  He turns his head slowly in the direction Boyd is pointing and sees a cinderblock building with no windows, just a door, so turns the wheels to drive towards it. Relief fills him at the thought of stopping and tending to his wound. The pain in his shoulder has muted to numbness and his arm and hand are incredibly weak. He needs to remove the arrow before he has a permanent injury to the nerves and muscles in his arm. His head is cloudy so he only caught half of what Boyd is saying but enough of it to follow his directions.

  “Stop here! I’m going to lay out the tarp. You need to drive over the edge of it as close to the building as possible so it’s anchored by the wheels. We’ll wrap it over the buggy and tie it off on the other side.”

  Marco just nods his head, not really understanding why they are doing that but knowing they will be stopped soon so he does as instructed. Boyd waves him forward when he has the tarp where he wants it. As soon as he calls out to stop, Marco shuts the machine down and just leans back against the seat with his head resting on the headrest and closes his eyes. He hears Boyd yelling and cursing at him but he feels like he’s floating and it’s so soothing that he just ignores him. Minutes later, he is yanked from the pleasantness by a roaring pain when Boyd grabs him and drags him across the seats and out the passenger door. The pain is so intense that all he can do is lay there in the dirt and listen to Boyd bang around while the wind rustles with the tarp. The wind is nice and cools his hot, wet back as he lays there waiting for the pain to subside. It had just started to fade back to numbness when he feels Boyd start pulling his arms again and dragging him along the ground.

  Marc
o bellows out a soul shaking scream as the arrow catches on a rock and it tears a wider gash in his body. This time, it’s a white light that flares behind his eyes and his last thought is, no amount of gold is worth this.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Excerpt from a private letter.

  May 3, 2029

  My dearest Bonita,

  It’s been over two months since I’ve seen your beautiful eyes and I miss them so much. All of this, the distance between us and the hard work has paid off, making it worthwhile. I struck the biggest vein to date at the second claim and have pulled more gold out of it than the entire first claim. We will never have to work again and our children will be able to live in luxury.

  I have put so much time into this vein that the work on our house in the valley took longer to complete than I thought it would but I’m happy to say that it is now finished! On my next trip out, I will focus on bringing all the furnishing and household goods to fill it so that it will be ready for your arrival.

  I know you are resistant to the idea of bringing the baby here to live but it may be our only option if we lose the war. I’m hearing rumors of a wall that is being constructed to cut us off from the north. If we lose and they build it, life will become incredibly hard for everyone in the south and it won’t matter how much gold we have. Water is already getting scarce for the farmers so without food shipments from the north, people will begin to starve. I fear for our lives if we don’t make plans.

  I’ve spoken to Charlie about it and he’s in agreement that things look bleak for us southerners. When I passed through, Avi was like a ghost town. The slot machines and tables were empty and they’ve been forced to drain and close all but the smallest pool. He told me that the council has plans if we lose the war to close the resort to the public and move the band members into it so they can be closer to the river. He even said there was talk of ripping up the golf course to plant crops! Can you imagine that? A PGA rated course turned into farmland!

  I’m confident that if the worst should happen, we would be able to be self-sufficient and comfortable in the valley. I understand all the reasons you don’t want to come but we may not have a choice so I would be willing to discuss bringing another family with us if we are forced to flee.

  Please consider it, sweetheart. I couldn’t bear to see you and our child suffering from the lack of resources if we lose the war.

  I plan to head out and back to you both next week and look forward to being a family once again.

  Your loving husband,

  Lucas

  “There! Start braking, Beck!” I yell over my shoulder to be heard over the roar of the wind and the constant pings of rocks and sand that are blasting the cart. I can just barely make out a dip in the tracks that are bracketed by tall rocks on either side ahead of us. We need to get behind some kind of cover or the wind will tip us over. As if my thoughts are prophetic, we are hit by a gust so strong that I feel the left side of the cart start to tilt up.

  “Move to the left side!” Beck screams, but I’m already moving. I grab Glo where she is huddling on the floor in front of the forward-facing windows with her hands covering her ears and her eyes squeezed tightly shut and drag her with me to the left side shelves and cling to them. I’m whispering frantic prayers that our combined weight will be enough to bring the wheels on this side back down onto the track. What feels like minutes later but is only a few seconds, we all feel the steel wheels clunk back down and the screeching of the brakes ring out. Glo and I are thrown forward against the front windows of the cart and I groan in frustration when I see we have stopped at the top of the dip that will hopefully protect us from the storm’s crazy winds.

  I shove away from the windows and lunge back towards the handle. “Pump! We stopped too soon!”

  Beck and my hands hit the handle at the exact same time with a hard push but it’s locked tight and won’t budge. I let out a very nasty curse word that has Beck’s eyes flaring wide in shock but they clear quickly when he realizes the problem.

  “The brake’s still on! Hold on.”

  He reaches down and struggles with the lever but finally gets it to move and release the brake. As soon as I see it flip over I start pumping the handle. There is so much resistance that I think that the brake hasn’t released all the way but then understand that I’m fighting against the wind to make the cart move. Beck adds his muscle to it and we finally manage to go the fifteen feet we need to move to be down in the dip with the rocks on both sides. The noise level of the wind drops by at least half and the near constant hail of rocks and sand hitting us goes from constant to occasional. I slump to the floor in relief and rest my forehead on the stationary handle as Beck sets the brakes again.

  As my ears adjust to the new volume of noise, I can just make out the sound of Glo sobbing. I don’t bother getting to my feet and just crawl the few feet to her and pull her off the floor and into my arms. She sobs against my shoulder while trying to talk.

  “Wanna...go...home...no...more...adventure!”

  I rub her back trying to soothe her but I have no words. I want to go home too. More than anything, I want to sob out my own tears at all that has happened in the past few days but I have to be strong for Glo so I gulp them back and just rest my head on hers, wishing for the thousandth time that Abuela was here with us. We sit like that for at least a half an hour with my legs going numb from her weight on them until all that’s left of her sobs are a few hiccups. She finally lifts her swollen tear streaked face and whispers,

  “I have to pee.”

  I let out a small laugh and cup her face using my thumbs to brush her tears away.

  “Me too. Come on, let’s go take care of that.”

  I rise to my feet on half asleep legs and turn towards the door. Beck’s in our way and he’s doing this weird tip toe dance.

  “What on earth are you doing?” I ask in confused disbelief.

  He answers us in a strained high pitch voice. “I have to go toooooooo!”

  The giggle that erupts from Glo at his antics makes me realize that he’s making a fool of himself for her benefit so I shake my head and send him a grateful smile.

  “Well, get the door open so we can go then!” I laugh.

  He sends me a wink and reaches out to open the door but it only moves a few inches before the wind slams it closed. He steps closer to the door and puts his shoulder into it but still only manages to open it a foot before letting the wind slam it closed again. He steps away from it and sighs before turning to us.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out there right now. Even with the rocks protecting us, the wind is too strong.”

  Glo makes a strangled noise and bounces up and down with the need to go. I look around the cart and think for a minute before rummaging through the bags and boxes we brought with us. I empty out a small plastic bin that has a few jars of Abuela’s homemade seasoning and jams in it and grab the one blanket we have. I hold them up for Beck and Glo to see and then shrug at their groans. We don’t have a lot of choices here. Glo makes Beck stand in the corner facing away and she makes me sing loudly as I hold the blanket up to screen her while she does her business and then she does the same for me. It’s uncomfortable and embarrassing but it gets the job done. I open one of the windows on the opposite side of the door where the wind isn’t as strong and dump the contents out of the bin. I just hope the storm passes before we have to go again.

  There’s not a lot to do now that we’re stuck here until the storm passes, so I divvy up the last of the cold soup and potatoes for our supper. With only a few tortillas, jam and dried fruit left in the basket I try and think about what we can eat tomorrow but my mind comes up blank. I have no way to cook any of the supplies we brought with us unless we build a fire so it’ll be raw vegetables and cold protein. I put that worry aside for now and bring up the next one with Beck.

  “Do you think Boyd is still after us?”

  He swallows the last of his potato and frowns.
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  “I don’t know. If they found another way to cross the river then maybe. But even if they did manage to cross, they’d be caught in this storm too. I don’t know what that thing was that they were driving but it didn’t look like it had a roof so they’d be completely exposed to the sand unless they found shelter somewhere.” He shakes his head in annoyance. “He’s stubborn but he’s not suicidal so I think he might have turned back. At least, I hope he did.”

  I stare down into the last dredges of soup in my cup, thinking. I finally ask him what’s really on my mind.

  “If he didn’t turn back and he catches up to us, are you going to be ok with me protecting us?”

  His face fills with confusion. “What do you mean?”

  I swallow hard but my voice is firm. “If he catches up to us, I’m going to kill him.”

  Beck’s mouth drops open in shock but he snaps it closed and studies me for a moment.

  “How do you plan on doing that?”

  I place my hand on the messenger bag and decide it’s time he knew what was inside of it.

  “I have a gun. I shot Boyd the night he came to the house but it just wounded him. If he shows up, I won’t wound him again, I’ll kill him.”

  His eyes are huge as they track from my face to the bag and then back to my face. “You shot Boyd? You have a gun?”

  I nod. “I won’t let him hurt Glo. I’ll do what I have to, to stop him. Can you live with that?”

  He pushes to his feet and walks to the other end of the cart to stare out at the raging dust and sand that swirls around us. I look away and my eyes meet Glo’s. She’s chewing on her lip in uncertainty with tears in her eyes so I open my arms to her. She launches herself against me and clings tightly for a few moments before leaning back to look into my face.