Wasteland Treasure

by Eve Langlais

  “Who is inside? Are they armed?” he asked, dragging her higher.

  “No. It’s just my cat and a blind man,” she sobbed.

  “I knew you were lying.”

  The robot soldier strode to the entrance and kicked open the door that only hung precariously. It went toppling off its fabricated hinges, the vines snapping. It clattered to the floor and still no Kitty pouncing with a snarl.

  The soldier thrust her into the room, and she reeled before hitting the edge of the broken table with her hip. She gasped. Another bruise. She cast a glance at the bedroom door, which remained closed.

  The soldier took in the room quickly. He dismissed everything, even the passages leading off into the damaged areas in favor of the one room sealed from him.

  The true chill came as she noted the weapon in his suit rising from the arm, the muzzle deadly and ready.

  Kitty couldn’t fight bullets. Despite knowing she might die for the warning, Sofia screamed, “Run, Kitty. Get out.”

  The bedroom had a window that had long since lost its glass. She’d covered it with leaves and wood to close it from the outside. But it wouldn’t stop a determined feline.

  “Shut up!” The blow sent her to the floor with her ears ringing. As her eyes blinked at the dust, it occurred to her she really should sweep it more often.

  Thump. The bedroom door was kicked open, and she listened through the buzzing of her ears for the snarl of her cat. Even a word from Gunner.

  Instead the soldier stomped back out. “Where is this Kitty? Is it another woman? A child? Answer.”

  He leaned down to shove his helmet in her face, inhuman, just like his actions. A hand on her throat cut off air. He was so intent on her, he never heard Gunner behind him.

  Wham.

  The rock that formed the seat for her stool slammed off the helmet, and the soldier fell sideways with a clang. Gunner followed, swinging again. His eyes were still bound, and yet the stone landed with a crunch. Again, and again, until the soldier went still.

  And though she throbbed with pain, she couldn’t help but sob in relief.

  Six

  Sofia whimpered, the sound broken and terrified.

  Gunner’s voice ended up gruffer than expected. “Are you okay? Did that asshole hurt you?” The strong woman he’d met, who bullied him, wouldn’t cry over nothing.

  “I’m fine.” She sounded embarrassed by her tears. “Just…relieved, I guess. Which is horrible. A man died.”

  “No, that was a fuckwad who doesn’t deserve any sympathy,” Gunner grumbled. “Not surprising given he was an Enclave soldier.”

  “How did you know to hide and help me?”

  “Luck.”

  It had only been chance that woke him from a drugged sleep. Chance and a giant cat licking his face. The raspy wet tongue went after his cheeks, surely ruining all the progress he’d made with the cream he’d bargained for.

  When he grumbled and tried to roll away, a paw pinned him and flexed its claws, pricking skin. He froze and mumbled, “Nice, Kitty.”

  The cat butted him with a large head. “Meowr.” The feline jumped from the bed, landing with a soft thud, and he heard a scratching.

  He expected the woman to let it out.

  The feline scratched again and uttered a low, rumbling growl.

  “Guess that’s my cue to get my ass out of bed.”

  Perhaps it had to piss. Better outside than somewhere he would step in it. And who knew, if Kitty got impatient, she might decide to sharpen her claws on him next.

  His limbs still sluggish, Gunner levered his legs out of bed. The tile floor proved solid, and he pushed to his feet, swayed and swallowed. He felt disconnected from his body.

  “Your mistress drugged me.” It made the most sense, even as it didn’t. She’d not fed him anything. Just blown powder in his face.

  A pretty potent powder. Must be some alchemist thing.

  Scratch. Scratch.

  “I’m coming.” He steadied himself before taking a shuffling step. It was then he heard it, from far off, a cry. One of pain.

  “Shit.” He moved forward, arms outstretched, shuffling lest he slam into something.

  The cat moved close and brushed his leg. He reached down and dug his fingers into the fur. With the cat as his guide, he made it to the door, feeling along it for a handle or a latch. He pulled it open, exited, and closed it behind him.

  He paused, listening, and heard it, the clomping of metal boots. The Enclave soldiers were well protected in their armor but never quiet.

  When the soldier yelled his demand, the cat pulled him in another direction.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he muttered.

  With his eyes bound, he was dependent on others and chance.

  Luck, don’t fail me now.

  He heard a door being kicked open, the soldier too cocky to wonder if he walked into danger. Gunner bit the inside of his lip when he heard Sofia cry out, and while the cat bristled at his side, she remained quiet.

  A good hunter never let the prey hear it coming.

  Another door was kicked open. The bedroom.

  And then there was yelling and fear in her screams, meaning he had to act.

  Gunner couldn’t see but that didn’t stop him from moving out of the alcove, counting his steps, his bare feet silent, his movements sure as his trailing fingers snared the stone for the stool. He followed the choking sounds and the creak of metal joints. The whimper brought his lips back in a snarl. The scent of her fear filled him with anger.

  The soldier deserved each blow of the rock. Deserved his death. Gunner just wished he could have done it before Sofia got hurt.

  “Luck?” She snorted, bringing him back to the present. “I wouldn’t call it luck that an Enclave soldier ended up here.”

  “He must have been grabbed when I was. The Enclave soldiers were chasing me just before the windstorm started.”

  “They as in more than one?” she asked.

  Casting back his recollection, he replied, “I think there was something like eight or nine of them.”

  She sighed. “Which means there could be more of them out there.”

  Which wasn’t a good thing obviously. “I’m sorry.”

  “What for?” She sounded startled. “You didn’t cause the wind that brought you here.”

  “True, but you seemed to have everything under control before my arrival.”

  “I did. And I’ll get things there again.”

  “You’re going to exterminate Enclave soldiers on your own?” He couldn’t help a hint of amusement in his reply.

  “If there are more, yes. Although, I’ll admit, it seems unlikely. I’ve never had two people arrive in a single storm before, let alone three.”

  “But those weren’t soldiers. The armor might protect them better.”

  “Maybe we got lucky and they landed in the river.”

  “And if they didn’t?”

  “Pushing them in and letting the water handle it might be easiest,” she mused aloud.

  “Are you stupid?” The words hung between them, and he could sense more than see her simmering anger.

  “Would someone stupid have survived five years on her own?”

  “Depends, how many people have died trying to save you?”

  “Jerk!” She huffed the words, but she didn’t touch him.

  Casey would have decked him. Actually, Nikki, Vera, and probably Zara would have, too.

  But Sofia sounded insulted. Hurt. He also still sensed fear.

  “I won’t apologize. Not when you’re about to do something foolish.”

  “What else can I do? This place isn’t huge. If there are more soldiers, they’ll find the house eventually.”

  She had a point. “I don’t like the idea of you confronting anyone on your own.”

  “What else would you suggest?” she asked.

  “Bring me with you.”

  She scoffed. “Because an injured blind man is more use
ful than I am.”

  “That’s not what—"

  “It is exactly what you’re implying,” she huffed angrily. “Yet this useless woman is the one who is taking care of you. No more. I should have tossed you out the first moment we met. You know what, it’s not too late. Get out.”

  “Now, sweetheart. Don’t be like that,” he soothed.

  “I said get out. And take the dead soldier with you.”

  “To do what with him? You said it yourself, I can’t see.”

  “You saw well enough to wield my stool. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  How was he supposed to explain luck guided his aim? “If you kick me out, then how am I supposed to accomplish my end of the deal? We haven’t made a baby yet.”

  “Deal’s off. Get out.”

  “Be reasonable.”

  She made a noise full of frustration. “You know what, you stay, I’ll leave.”

  “To go where?” he asked as he heard her steps moving away.

  “Somewhere safe. Coming, Kitty?”

  The feline sat down beside him, and he knew Sofia was hurt at the abandonment by her pet.

  “Traitor,” she said bitterly before stomping away.

  Leaving him alone. With no vision. And a dead body. Maybe even more soldiers in the woods.

  He sighed, and the feline chuffed with him. “Guess it’s me and you, Kitty. I don’t suppose you know how to use a shovel.” Hell, did Sofia even own a shovel?

  In the end, he dragged the body outside and kept dragging uphill until the cat butted him.

  “This better be the cliff I asked for,” he grumbled, giving the body a heave. It was a long while before he heard a splash. Kind of disconcerting to realize he was on a cliff that high.

  At least he wouldn’t die of dehydration. Or boredom. Between Kitty and Sofia, he had company and entertainment galore.

  Not that he’d be staying. The moment his eyes healed he’d be looking for a way out, leaving behind a possibly pregnant woman—if he held up his side of the bargain.

  Then again, what were the chances any sample he gave her would actually impregnate her? Birth rates were low in the Wastelands for a reason. It wasn’t that easy.

  Even the Incubaii domes were having difficulties. Unviable fetuses were happening more and more often. Humanity had gotten stale.

  Or so Oliander claimed when he’d had a few too many fermented brews to drink. The doctor claimed a healthy society required intermingling. With the domes being so contained, fraternization frowned upon, and only a small number of women chosen to donate their eggs, genetic variety was lacking. Which, according to Oliander, would lead to lower birth rates, even more defects, and a population less capable of adapting. The only solution was one the Enclave would never agree to, a return to the Old Earth way of increasing the population by letting people procreate as they pleased with whom they pleased.

  That would never happen, not with the Enclave in power.

  Returning down the slope, his hand only lightly touching Kitty, he found himself relying on his other senses. Listening for sounds that might indicate motion or the creak of armor. Smelling even as he recognized little of what he scented. It sure beat the dry dust of the Wastelands.

  He didn’t hear Sofia, and yet he sensed her nearby. Watching over him perhaps? Using him as bait if there were other soldiers? A smart thing to do. Would she try and smash them with a rock now that she saw it was possible, or did she have a better weapon?

  He forgot to ask.

  Given he might not see for a while—if ever—he spent some time learning the space inside the house. Eight strides from the main door to the bedroom, three more to the bed. Almost ten to the alcove he’d hidden in. When he was certain of all the pacing, he went outside and began learning the area around the house. He knew it was one hundred and forty-five steps up the hill to the cliff. Less than twenty to go past the house and hit the edge of the woods.

  The entire time he walked and counted, his nape prickled. He was well aware of the eyes watching, which meant he didn’t act surprised when she drawled, “You should walk five more paces to your left.”

  “It’s farther than that to the cliff.”

  “I know. I was hoping you’d fall in the slither hole.”

  “The what?”

  “I don’t know what it’s called, but there’s this thing that slithers out of a hole in the ground. It has no legs or paws, nothing. It wiggles to get places and, like the vines, squeezes its prey to death after it bites it and renders it immobile.”

  His lips pursed. “It’s called a snake and, knowing it’s out here, why have you let it live?”

  “It’s harmless to bigger animals, and its venom is useful for numbing wounds.”

  “And how does one find out it numbs?” he asked. “Is there a test you can perform?”

  “Yeah. It’s called getting bitten.”

  The reply, delivered so dryly, surprised a chuckle out of him. “I guess that would be a good way of testing. You’re lucky it wasn’t more poisonous.”

  “I’m aware. It hasn’t been easy trying to separate friendly foliage from rip-your-stomach-to-shreds-and-make-you- think-you’ll-die. Which reminds me, are you hungry?”

  “Depends, are you going to feed me something that will make me wish I’d died quickly?”

  “Maybe.” She laughed, a husky sound he enjoyed way too much. “Perhaps as a rite of passage, you should suffer the way I did until I learned my way around.”

  “Now that’s just mean.”

  “I guess.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. “Do you know it was almost a year before I got my hands on an igniter?”

  “You couldn’t make fire?”

  “Nope. I cooked my meat on some black rocks by the river that heat up in the sun. When I got my first igniter, I was so excited and ignorant I almost burned down the forest. I never realized fire could be so hungry and spread so fast. I was close to the river at least and had a bucket to put it out. I was more careful after that.”

  The fact she’d had to learn on her own impressed him. “You’ve had to learn a lot.”

  “It was learn, or die.”

  “You sound like a Wastelander.”

  She snorted. “I’m not a rat.”

  “Neither are we.”

  That quieted her.

  To his surprise, she apologized. “I’m sorry.”

  He changed the subject. “What happened to hunting down more possible soldiers?”

  “Night is coming. I don’t go in the woods at night.”

  “I thought you said the trees don’t move.”

  “They don’t. But there are other things out there. It’s just safer to be indoors.”

  “I don’t suppose indoors has that food you mentioned?” he asked rather hopefully. The water he’d drunk earlier had long since left. His stomach gurgled with hunger.

  “I don’t have any fresh meat. I was too busy with other things today. But I do have some dried strips, along with some leftover berries.”

  To his surprise, she moved close enough to grab his hand.

  He felt compelled to say, “I’m sorry I called you an idiot.” He still thought her plan to wander the woods looking for soldiers was a bad one, but she was right. If there were more of them out there, then they should be located and taken care of.

  “I’m sorry I broke our bargain and asked you to leave.”

  “Shall we kiss and make up?” he asked.

  “No, we will not,” said with soft surprise.

  “Let me know if you change your mind.” He still had no idea how she looked and quite frankly didn’t care. She intrigued him, this woman with so much bravery and intelligence. A true survivor. A child of theirs would be strong.

  She tugged him into the house. There was noise as she shifted the door. Sighed. “It won’t stay in place even with the branch across it. That stupid soldier busted the vines I had holding it.”

  He didn’t mention the fact that short of reinforcing it with
metal and concrete it wouldn’t stop the next one that decided to kick it in. “For tonight, we might want to try sleeping in one of the less accessible rooms. Just in case.”

  “The mattress I stuffed won’t fit,” she said almost mournfully.

  “You can use me as a pillow,” he offered.

  To which she snorted. “You’re too hard to be comfortable.”

  He couldn’t resist and teased her. “But you want it to be hard if it’s to be pleasurable.”

  Her audible gasp had him grinning.

  “I told you we would not be fornicating to make the child.”

  “And I’m telling you that it’s the most reliable way to ensure it gets done.”

  “I am not having sex with you.”

  “Fine. But will you at least feed me? I am starving. A man needs his energy if he’s to provide strong seed.”

  That brought a wry, “I’ll feed you, but only because you’ll stop talking if your mouth is full.”

  The food proved tastier than expected, the dried meat flavorful and easy to chew. The berries had been baked inside some leaves along with nuts, and the water they shared out of a cup had a minty taste to it.

  “That was delicious.”

  He could hear the pleasure in her voice as she said, “It took a while to perfect some of the techniques. I never had to cook before coming here. I never realized it was like the creams and medicines I make, where proportion and certain blends create the most incredible textures or flavors.”

  “It seems being an apothecary has its uses.”

  “Some.”

  “Does it extend to poisons?”

  “I didn’t poison your food,” she exclaimed.

  “I never said you did. I am asking because a poison would be another way to defend yourself against soldiers.”

  “Except I can’t inject them while they wear a suit.”

  “No, but you can feed them if they take the helmet off. Or smear it on their skin if they get close.”

  Her voice went low. “I’d rather they stay away in the first place.”

  “Which reminds me, we should find that spot to hunker down until morning.” Maybe by then he’d have some use of his eyes and not feel so fucking useless.

  “I know where we can go, but you’ll have to squeeze through a tight spot,” she said.