Barren Sky, page 3
“You catch them?”
“Kill them. Hunt them. That’s what I meant.”
“Then you should say what you mean.”
Willie smiled, and she felt her face blush. Dia had decided to be surly, but she knew Willie didn’t deserve it. After all, she’d broken into their plant uninvited and the man had then given her a safe place to sleep and offered her a morning meal. If only Dia and Hado had found someone like that on the road or in Denver, maybe Hado would still be alive.
“I will try that. Words to live by.”
Dia looked past Willie, past the man standing behind him, and shook her head. “Maybe I should go.”
“Where?”
“The ruins.”
“Which ruins?”
“Those,” she said, waving her arm in no specific direction. “Anywhere.”
“You’re our guest.”
“You mean prisoner.”
Willie chuckled and stepped into the cabin. He put a hand on Dia’s shoulder. “Yes, I do mean prisoner. You’ve seen our plant. We don’t know you. I’m sure you understand.”
“I don’t.”
A forced cough came from the man behind Willie.
“I’m sorry.” Willie stepped to the side and waved the man into the hut. “This is Lane.”
The man stepped past Willie and stood before Dia. He stood at least six feet tall with shaggy blond hair and a beard that hadn’t been trimmed in months. His dark eyes sat above cheeks with scars, and a long, woolen cape hung around the man’s neck. He appeared to be about the same age as Willie—old enough to be Dia’s father, or maybe her uncle.
“Okay.” Dia looked from Lane to Willie and shrugged. “And?”
“He is assigned to you.”
Lane scowled and Dia hissed.
“Fuck, man. Are you seriously putting me on babysitting duty? You’re a fucking twat, you know that?” Lane sighed as if anticipating Willie’s response.
“Shut up. Do your job. We all do our job.”
Lane growled, but he looked down and nodded. So far, Willie seemed to be the alpha male in this clan.
“I don’t need a guard.”
“You don’t get to tell me what you need and what you don’t.”
Dia looked at Willie, who was now grinning from ear to ear.
“How’d I do? I said what I meant, right?”
She scowled as Lane turned to Willie.
“How long?”
“Until I say you don’t have to any longer.” Without waiting for Lane to reply, Willie spun and stepped past the man. “You two shouldn’t waste much time here or the pork will be gone.”
Dia watched him go. She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one hip, staring at Lane.
“Now what?”
“How should I know? I just got this shitty assignment thirty seconds ago.”
She looked Lane over, noticing that he’d kept his hands beneath the cape since he’d entered the hut. He hadn’t introduced himself with a handshake, an archaic gesture still used by the middle-agers and the older folks. Dia reached out her hand.
“Pleased meetings.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. That’s the phrase.”
Dia shrugged, unconcerned about turning the words properly. She waited, her right hand suspended between them. Lane sighed and pushed the cape back, revealing a gloved left hand on one arm and nothing but a stump on his right. Palm down, he put his left hand in hers and gave it two hard shakes before snapping it back.
“Where’s your hand?” she asked.
“Holy shit! It’s missing! So glad you mentioned that because I hadn’t realized my right fucking hand is gone.”
Dia stepped back and blew a wisp of hair from her face.
“Listen.” Lane leaned down, and she could smell pork on his breath. The sly dude had already had his breakfast, apparently. “The last thing I wanna do is babysit a little bitch like you. But that’s what Willie wants, so that’s what I gotta do. I don’t get to fight anymore so I get the bullshit jobs they give the women and children. You’d think you’d get more than that for losing a hand in battle for the clan, but you don’t.”
“Good.”
“Good what?” he asked.
“You say what you mean. That’s at least something good about having a babysitter.”
Lane huffed.
“And any man brave enough to lose an arm in battle must be a warrior.”
“Was a warrior. Now I’m a fucking chaperone.”
He turned and walked out of the hut, calling back over his shoulder at Dia. “Get your shit, grab some pig, and then we need to go to the plant. Willie thinks he can use you over there, so I gotta introduce you to everyone.”
Dia heard laughter and profanity coming from the settlement as she stepped out of the hut behind Lane. A dozen or so huts sat in a ring around a fire pit layered with ash and hot coals, a pig rotating above it. Seven or eight people stood around the fire, picking off hunks and eating it with their hands. A group of kids ran by and Dia estimated about four dozen people living in this encampment. Lane waved her over and she followed.
“The grubby bastards are here, of course. I’ll introduce you to the plant crew now while they’re stuffing their faces. We got work to do once we head out for the day.”
“This is Eve, Sara, Bull, and Lady. Everyone, this is Dia.”
Dia accepted a hunk of dried bread and bowl of roasted pork as introductions were made. At first glance, she believed Eve and Sara to be sisters. Eve was probably Dia’s age, although with short black hair and a perpetual frown. About three years older, Sara wore her reddish-blond hair to the middle of her back. She smiled at Dia and then gave her a quick curtsy. Dia understood why they called Bull by that nickname. The man stood almost as wide as he did tall, with stringy dark hair and deep eyes. He had scars on the right side of his face and a sword hanging off his hip. He tore into a hunk of roasted pork as she watched, chewing it and never breaking eye contact with Dia. Lady had to have been a sarcastic nickname. The woman towered over Bull by a foot. She also wore a sword on her hip and kept her blond hair tight and short—like a man. She neither curtsied nor bowed, but instead stared at Dia.
“You’ll be joining them at the plant, and because I have to keep an eye on you, I’m coming along, as well.”
“Gah.”
Lane looked at Bull and used his left hand to give him the middle finger. “None of us are happy with this arrangement, asshole. So deal with it.”
The four turned back to their own conversation while Lane shook his head.
“Sorry about that.”
“No, you’re not.”
“You’re right. I’m not. Let’s go.”
Lane and Dia fell into line behind Lady as the six of them headed for the plant.
Chapter 6
The routine was more regular than she’d experienced before. Dia woke, followed the workers to the plant, did what they said until dusk came, and then returned with them to the settlement for a meal around the fire. Shiva had had her searching for water in Erehwon, but there’d been nothing routine about that. When water levels had fallen, the leader of the Venganza had sent the girl into the ruins to water whisper. And after the rains had come and the cisterns had filled, Dia’s time had become her own.
But inside the plant, the workers kept a close eye on her. They’d send her on walks around the floor of the plant in regular intervals, checking gauges, tightening valves, and making sure the water coming through the intakes was being channeled through the filtration system. Part of Dia wanted to know how the filtration worked, and exactly how they’d managed to strip the toxins from the water and use it without worry. But her curiosity didn’t last long, because what did it matter? The plant couldn’t be moved, and therefore whatever marvel of science they had created would live and die on this little island in the shadow of the San Francisco ruins.
Dia’s bigger concern was the Los Muertos in the settlement. After the meal and before an enforced curfew—something Dia had never experienced before—the members of the clan would gather to smoke, drink, and tell fanciful stories of a time when carts had flown and people had been able to talk to each other with small plastic boxes. She’d listened to Hado and Sunji having such conversations dozens of times, but they never went anywhere; never forward, always into the past. As far she was concerned, Dia always tried to force herself to live in the miserable present. The past was gone, and the future was nothing but fiction.
“Hey.”
She glanced away from the fire where the hot coals had mesmerized her and turned her reflections inward. A group of kids about her age had sat on each side of her, most of them drinking from flasks and burning leaf.
“Yeah.” She looked around and then back to the fire.
“Wanna see a dead body?”
The boy who’d asked the question appeared to be slightly older than Dia, a bit pudgy for a clan living on the knife’s edge of extinction in a world following suit. He had his long hair pulled back and his eyes gleamed in the fire.
“No. Seen enough.”
“Where?” The boy had leaned in as he’d asked, several others sliding closer to the fire and to Dia. “Where you seen ’em?”
She could feel the night’s chill on her back and the warmth of the flames on her chest. Dia closed her eyes and sighed. “Lots of places.”
“Were they all mangled and shit?”
“Not when I saw them.”
One of the kids whistled, and Dia swore she heard a giggle beneath the whispers.
“So, you wanna see another? We tied this guy up and been going to check on him, watching the fucker waste away. He must’ve died a few nights ago, but we been going back to see what the maggots been doing. It’s pretty damn cool.”
“What’s cool about that?”
Pudgy Boy slid closer to Dia and she could smell his breath—garlic and wild mushrooms.
“You don’t dig death?”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means you should come with us and check it out. We’d love to have you hang with us.”
Again, Dia thought she heard a slight chuckle come from one of the other kids.
“Okay. Tomorrow, I’ll meet—”
“Now. Let’s go now.”
Willie hadn’t expressly forbidden her to leave the settlement, but he’d made it clear what would happen if Dia did. She had seen their plant, and now she was a prisoner, albeit one without physical binds.
“I can’t.”
“Sure, you can. We ain’t gonna tell. I mean, shit. We found the dude and didn’t tell anyone about it. We won’t get caught. Promise.”
Dia looked around at their faces flickering in the firelight.
Too eager to play with death.
“Fine.” Dia stood up and brushed the dirt from her pants. “Let’s go. Show me the body.”
Pudgy Boy clapped his hands together and the four others stood with him, their group made up of two other boys and two girls. He looked at them and then to Dia.
“It ain’t far,” said one of the others.
Dia held her hand out, palm up and toward the darkness.
The Bay had ushered in a cold wind that seemed to freeze the marrow in her bones. She had yet to figure out this bizarre climate—warm and breezy during the day, and chilling at night. It was nothing like the freezing of Erie back home, or the long cold winter in the shadow of the Great Lake. But the damp chill here made her shiver.
“Okay then. I’m following you.”
Pudgy Boy took the lead. Two followed him and the other two walked behind Dia. They took the path out of the settlement and then a fork going in the opposite direction of the plant. An owl hooted and the warmth of the fire was sucked away by the forest. As with the Ohio lands, the trees here had returned and crawled into the ruins as nature attempted to slowly reclaim them.
The boy led her and the others deeper into the woods, the trees standing guard. The crickets quieted and Dia could hear her own breathing in her ears.
Snickering came from behind her.
“How much further?”
Pudgy Boy said nothing. He didn’t turn around and didn’t answer her.
One voice came from behind Dia. “Not far.”
Dia shivered. The walk had made her sweat and the cold air dampened her shirt.
“I’m expected at the plant at daybreak, so if you could—”
She saw sparks, bright flashes in the forest as if the shooting stars above had crashed to Earth. Dia fell, and when one of their boots cracked a rib, she rolled over onto her back as her brain caught up to the pain.
“Wait!”
But they were on her, fists and boots landing in a wild orgy of violence. Dia put her hands up, but that didn’t stop several blows from landing on her face. She could feel her lip split and her right eye already beginning to swell. It wasn’t until Pudgy Boy dropped onto her stomach and knocked the air from her lungs that Dia realized that there was no dead body. They wanted to make one.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” He was sitting on her chest, his finger wagging in Dia’s face as the others stopped striking her momentarily. “You don’t just walk in here and get assigned to the plant. Do you know what I do?”
When Dia didn’t respond, he slapped her across the face. “Do you?”
“No.” Dia had spat the word out along with a mouthful of blood.
“I shovel shit. Yep, whatever beasts we don’t eat, we use for milk. When they dump, I shovel it to the manure pile for the crops. I’m a shit shoveler.”
“You’ll be a shit-eater if you don’t get off me.”
Pudgy Boy laughed, hitting her two more times with closed fists in the side of her head. Their voices wavered above her and Dia struggled to keep from passing out.
“Will you? Is that right?”
Dia sneered, looking right into his eyes. “Fuck off.”
Before Pudgy Boy could respond, he had been ripped into the air from behind. Dia felt the pressure on her chest release even before she realized what had happened. She closed her eyes to the sound of skin slapping and whimpering until a somewhat familiar voice spoke.
“Get to your bed rolls. Right now.”
Lane?
“Fuck you, gimp. I’m telling my dad.”
“Go ahead, you little shit. See if I care what your dad thinks of me.”
Dia sat up in time to see Pudgy Boy and the others running away, back down the path toward the settlement. A hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her to her feet.
“Thank you.”
“Shut up.”
Dia looked at Lane through the eye that hadn’t swollen shut yet, blood turning sticky and salty on her lips. “I just—”
“You just nothing. You’re not only costing me sleep, but now I’m going to have to deal with that fat fuck and his asshole of a father.”
“Thanks for helping me.”
“You? My, you are quite an entitled child, aren’t you? Assuming I helped you, is that it?”
“Yes, I—”
“I said, shut up. From now on, don’t go following kids into the forest at night. You’re an outsider. You’re different. And they’re gonna hate you for that no matter what you do or say. So, next time, spare me the time in my bed roll and the hassle I’ll have on my hand tomorrow for putting it on JoJo. His father is an overprotective twit.”
Dia giggled through the pain, unsure if she was laughing at Lane’s hand joke or the fact that Pudgy Boy’s name was JoJo.
She stood waiting then, silently staring at Lane as he looked into her eyes. “Good. You’re learning. Now let’s get back while there’s still a few hours left in this shitty night.”
Chapter 7
“Why are we going back to the plant at night?”
“Because not everyone trusts you after only a few days. But I’m going to Willie tomorrow and I’m going to sponsor you. So, don’t fuck up.”
Dia nodded at Lane, having no idea what a sponsorship meant, but realizing that Lane was risking his reputation on her. She walked with him along the path under the waning moon to the songs of crickets.
“I won’t.”
“Damn straight, you won’t.”
Lane pulled his cloak up to his neck with his left hand, hiding a string of green, egg-shaped objects crossing his chest. But Dia had so far been more enamored by what he was missing instead of what he wore around his neck.
A warrior could lose a hand in any number of ways, including asking a girl to chop it off due to infection. Although Dia knew it didn’t matter, she wanted to know how Lane had lost his. When they arrived at the main entrance to the plant, however, she realized that the question would need to wait for another day.
“We’re going in there?” she asked.
“Well, we sure as hell aren’t out strolling for fun.” Lane removed a key from his pocket, inserted it into the padlock, and removed the lock from the hasp.
“That wasn’t locked when I found the plant.”
“No, because that would be stupid. How would we get in and out during the day?”
“But you’re afraid somebody will get inside during the night?”
“Not somebody. Venganza. Nomads. Other clans. You haven’t been here long enough to even know who or what you should fear.”
Lane led Dia inside the main hallway and shut the door, throwing the deadbolt into place. He walked over to the wall and opened a compartment, reached inside, and then shut it. A split second later, the corridor glowed with a blue, diffused light.
“Aren’t many of these left, but every so often somebody finds one in the ruins. Years ago, one of ours scavenged a solar panel which we put on the roof and wired to a few batteries on the ground floor of the plant. It ain’t much, but there’s definitely enough juice to keep this flashlight charged up—for emergencies.”
“Is this an emergency?”
“Girl, you gotta stop asking so many questions.”
Lane led Dia along the hallway and down the steps to the factory floor. The tanks and pipes sat in shadows created by the angle of the moonlight coming in through the high windows. It made the old machinery look like a mythic sea creature—one with tentacles spreading out in all directions. She could hear water moving, but it was nothing more than a distant drip.
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