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Ma Thurn looked out over the dry hills and wiped the dusty sweat off from her forehead. “We gotta keep a move on, Pa.” She sat back down in the small wagon and adjusted the solar panels so they hid her and the two children from the sun, but not from the heat—there was no escaping the damnable heat. “Looks to be a valley on ahead. Make a line fer it before we all bake to our untimely demises.”
“You heard Ma,” Pa Thurn said. Then he chirped at the two dust-coated mules, their ears pricked up, but they refused to budge. “Ma, a little help?”
Ma Thurn closed her hand around a thumb-sized crystal hanging from a twine chord around her neck. She closed her eyes and muttered under her breath. The mules quivered, an unseen force made the tired animals’ bodies to do what their minds didn’t want. They lifted their stiff hooves and with a small lurch set the Thurn family into a crawling pace.
One of the boys in the back, ten year-old Deek, grunted. “Slow down, Pa, I can almost feel a breeze.” Boyd, the eldest at thirteen, chortled at his brother’s sarcasm, and even more when Ma cuffed Deek across the back of the head. “A smart for yer smarts. Show some respect for yer Daddy,” she hissed. She turned her gaze to Boyd. “And Boyd, ya keep yer frog-humpin laughs in yer ugly frog face.” Boyd swallowed his next guffaw and bowed his head. Ma turned back to the road and Deek made a ribbit at Boyd. Boyd punched him in the leg, making him cry out and punch Boyd back.
“Quit yer whinin!” Ma shifted a solar panel so the sun beat down on the two boys. Instantly they stilled.
“Ya want some shade then?” Ma glared back at the boys. They had their eyes covered, the sun too bright for them to look at Ma.
“Yes, Ma,” said both boys. Ma sighed and moved the panel back. She adjusted her own panel so the light came through but the heat was minimized. A few seconds later the two boys started at it again.
“Damnit, Pa, get this wagon a goin,” Ma had her fingers in her hair shaking her head. “I don’t know what’s worse, the hellfire of heat or them demon spawn you call sons. I gotta get me some rest. Them mules gotta move.” Ma glared at Pa, holding her crystal up at him.
Pa flinched a bit and yelled at the mules again. And again. “Damn ya, ya worthless animals! Move yer carcasses.” He yelled again and the mules nickered their discomfort, their bodies twitching with each of Pa’s yells. Still, the wagon kept the same speed. Pa reached back for a dried-out leather whip. “Gonna have to do this ol’fashioned like.”
Before he could lay leather to the mules, Ma chimed in. “Hold off, Pa.” She had her hand around the crystal again. “They’re too stupid to disobey my methods.”
Pa just glared ahead. His wife’s cursed crystals gave him the jeebies. Especially how it worked on the mules. “Why not use it more then? Save us all some trouble.”
“Don’t want to waste’em. Only got one more left.”
“Go find some more then. Seen plenty of crystals, seems they grow more out here than plants.”
Ma slapped Deek’s head again, eliciting more guffaws from Boyd. “Don’t work like that, Pa. Told ya before, these crystals are special. Plucked’em straight from the hearts of dying Skylords.”
“Whatever ya say.”
“Sides,” said Ma, “beating them mules will only damage’em, half-dead things they are.” She lunged into the wagon bed, smacking Deek across the back of his head so hard that he collided into Boyd. “Beating only works on creatures like these.” Both boys moaned. “Ain’t laughin’ now, are ya? Told ya to shut yer ugly traps.”
“Valley ahead’s bigger than it looks,” Pa said. “Hills hid the ‘spanse of it.”
“Good.” Ma had herself sat again, smoothing down her sun-bleached and thread-worn dress. “Maybe be somethin’ to eat in there. Rations are low, real low and without much water it’s hard to chew that dried up ol’meat. Horrible stuff when it turns. Fraid we’d have to eat the mules.”
“Weren’t gonna eat them mules anyways.” Pa flicked the reigns, gaining no result. “Who’d pull the wagon? Deek an’ Boyd’d be worse than them mules. Need them mules.”
“We would of eaten’ them if needs be. And needs were gettin to be. We’s all that’s left, and the boys gotta survive. All the other men and horses of our group’s gone or rotten on the wayside.” Ma patted a lock box under the bench seat of the wagon “Best hope there’s food to be found. Only a few days rations left, then” Ma continued, “it was gonna be the mules or us.” Pa shivered a little at that. Ma’s ways of survival were extreme, but they worked. No doubt Ma wouldn’t balk at eating the boys, but Pa had to draw a line somewhere. Eating family just wasn’t right.
“Should let me whip at the mules then,” said Pa in his mean voice. “Tenderize the meat.”
“If’n there’s no food ahead, we’ll talk. Stay the whip for now.”
Pa only nodded in response. He might of thought himself a philosophizer, but him and the boys knew Ma was the real smarts of the family. It was her brain, that weird understanding of natural energies and how to harness them with those crystals that had ensured the survival of all five of the Thurn family out in the Wilds, despite harsh dry, hot conditions, and the sparsity of food and water.
She’d been revered as a sort of oracle by the rest of the original group of twenty-three people that had set out from Simvatome in search of a new home not hampered by the Skylords and their obedience-demanding prophets. Sure, the prophets hadn’t stopped the small group, they never stopped deserters. Many groups had ventured out into the Wilds, the prophets always let anyone who didn’t want to obey attempt their own way. But that own way had to be in the Wilds, and without the protection from the Skylords everyone believed that leaving Simvatome was a death sentence. Except for Ma Thurn.
She’d been exiled to the Wilds with her sisters for heresy—’warping natural energies’ is what the prophets said. Six months later everyone, including Pa and the kids, thought her dead, but six months later only she came back, stout and strong as ever, preaching her heretical words, the same discontent for the Skylords and how they were just aliens. With her strange eyes, one brown, the other a turquoise green, the prophets despised her as unclean, but they also feared her.
A small number noticed that fear and believed Ma. And as many believed her were asked by the prophets to leave. And leave they did. For with Ma Thurns they’d found a new prophet and she spoke of a new life. She said that with her sisters they’d discovered a way to survive in the Wilds and that this new group would learn the same.
It’d been months. The Thurns survived, but thanks to sparsity of food and the local fauna, and the giant spiders, no one else did. Still, despite the hardships, the Thurns were sturdy people.
Pa put away the whip and didn’t grumble a bit about it. The mules put on a steady cadence accented by an occasional high chirp from Pa. The five Thurns fell into a dreary hypnosis from the heat, the unchanging brown hills, and sheer boredom of the situation. Even Deek and Boyd kept quiet.
The sun had reached it’s apex and the solar panels did little to reflect it. Water was on everyone’s mind, even the mule’s. The wagon carried a few empty, dry barrels. The only half-full barrel sat under Ma’s quilt, sealed tight with a lock, the key in Ma’s bodice. And she’d only open the barrel to give the least amount needed. Boyd and Deek’s attempts to open the barrel always ended with failure and a few boxed ears. The mules had tried to trample it once, an uncharacteristically frantic attempt that broke the other barrel. The surviving barrel, by default and necessity, became the Thurn’s most prize possession.
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Maybe it was thirst or desperation, but something got into the mules. They pulled hard on the wagon, sending Ma tumbling back and on top of the boys. Pa pulled at the reigns a bit. “Da hell’s demons got into thems crazy animals?”
Ma struggled to pull herself back to the bench, ignoring the groaning boys. “Devil only knows.” She grunted a bit and settled on her backside. “They’s a movin’ fast for sure. Ain’t seen em move like this since they’d trampled the barrel.”
“Almost like they smell water.”
“You crazy, Pa? Ain’t seen natural water for a week now.”
“How’d you explain it then, Ma?”
“Finally gone and bugged out, that crystal of yers done gone and baked their brains.”
“Water!” The shout came from the boys.
“Ah shut up back there!” Pa said, still pulling at the reins. “Daft as the mules!”
“Wait, Pa!” Ma shouted. “Water.”
The wagon came to a halt at the mouth of a canyon, the same Ma had spotted earlier. A stream trickled out of the side of a low cliff, over the rocks for a stretch, disappearing into a sink hole.
“Now hold up,” said Pa, “Gotta make certain ain’t no poison. Ah hell.”
Deek and Boyd were already soaked and pushing each other in the water, gulping it down each time they fell. Ma and Pa watched the boys for a few minutes. Waiting.
“Seems all right,” said Ma. “Them idiots are still idioting around.” She stepped down from the wagon, and yelled at the boys. “Now don’t go drinkin’ yerselves into a gut ache!”
Pa cut loose the mules and Ma ran to the water, her usual dour self now saturated in excitement. She pulled up the hem of her dress with one hand, soaking her legs in the cool water up to her knees. She cupped water to her mouth with her free hand.
“Soak the barrels and fill’em up, boys.” Pa threw an empty at Deek and Boyd. “We’ll rest the night and be on our way.”
Ma let out a shrill laugh. “Hell we will. This ain’t no nasty puddle to pass by like before. It’s runnin, fresh water.” Her gaze lingered on the canyon mouth and the shadowy pass beyond. “Pa, we’re headed upstream to the source.”
“Fine enough with me.” Pa stepped off the wagon and threw himself into the water.
“Damnit, Pa,” Ma said spitting. “Git yer nasty carcass downstream from me. Can taste yer stench.”
Pa waded a few feet past Ma, grumbling under his breath about a stench he’d like to shove down Ma’s throat. “Ya ain’t all sweetness and pleasantries either.”
Minutes later Ma and Pa sat in a boulder’s shade. Even out of the sunlight, the heat almost had their clothes dried. Sprawled on a rock next to them, the boys moaned and held their stomachs.
“Idjuts.” Ma tossed a handful of pebbles at them. “Serves ya right. Told ya not to drink too much.”
The boys barely flinched as the rocks pelted them.
“Probably need some food to soak up all the water in their guts,” said Pa. He pointed at a cluster of noisy, small lizards he’d seen scampering around the rocks. “Probably some meat on those things.”
Ma grunted. “Look nasty, but’d be worth killin’ to stop their croaking.”
“Look better than that tough ol’ meat we got from that last fella with us. What was his name again?”
“Georgios.”
“Right. Well that turned already. I’m goin’ after somethin’ fresh.” With that, Pa scooped up some stones. After a slew of throws with more hits than misses, he had a dozen small lizards roasting on a flat rock with a fire under it from the remains of a broken water barrel. “Good thing I ain’t never thrown nothin’ away.” He flipped a gutted lizard onto its back, licking his lips at the sizzling and pops. “Ain’t much else to burn out here.”
“Except for ourselves.” Ma gave a glancing glare at the sun, then turned her attention to the small fire and lizards. “How much longer ‘til those are cooked?”
Deek and Boyd slunk up behind Pa, attracted by the cooking lizards. The fire reflected in their eyes, giving their already hungry gaze a greater intensity. “Smells real good,” said Deek. Boyd nodded his head, bobbing it excitedly. “Uh huh, uh huh. Real, real good.”
“Have the right mind to smack you upside the head with a rock before I give you anything to eat.” Pa spoke to the boys without looking at them. “If I let ya, ya’d eat until yer guts popped. Ya boys ain’t got no self control. So back yer selves up and wait ‘til I give you what I give you. Sides, yer ma gets first pickings. Ya should all know that by now.”
Pa stepped aside from the sizzling lizards, the meat now white against the blackened, charred skin. Deek and Boyd scooted closer, only to back away again as Ma Thurn approached. Selecting a couple for herself, she stepped away. She sniffed at one and said, “Have at it, boys.” Her severe face surrendered to a cruel smile as she watched Pa fight off Deek and Boyd.
Pa was tough, but the boys were determined and outnumbered him. Still, he managed to grab a few lizards and escape with them mostly in tact from the snarling boys. He plopped down on the rock next to where Ma sat. “Ya did that on purpose,” he said and bit into a lizard, cursing as it burned his mouth.
“I did. And enjoyed it.” Ma ripped a leg off her lizard and tore the meat off with her teeth.
“Yer a horrible woman, an’ a worse wife.”
“But a good mother.”
Pa looked at the boys right as Deek bit into Boyd’s arm and stole the last lizard. “If them creatures be the measure of yer motherhood, yer an even worse mother.”
Ma harrumphed. “We’ve talked this over before. All I do is teach’em how hard things are and let’em tough their way through.” She glared at the sun, her eyes almost squinted closed. “That sun up there don’t give a damn about nothin’ but burnin’ up the weak and stayin’ alive. That’s how our boys gotta be.”
“Hrmph.” Pa crunched into his second lizard.
“’Sides, them creatures is half yers an’ I ain’t married no weakling either.”
“Damn right.” Pa squared his shoulders.
“Strong family needs strong people in it. It’s why we made it this far,” Ma chuckled, “an’ the others didn’t.” She stood up, brushed off a few layers of dust from her dress. “Think them mules can pull the wagon through the canyon?”
“Imagine so.” Pa spit out a lizard head and set to strapping up the mules.
The rocky way proved difficult for the mules, but the water made it much more bearable than the endless sand and scrub alternative. The wagon was a tight fit in the canyon, but after a while the canyon walls widened out and forked into two paths. The stream came from the smaller path. Both paths disappeared into in the jagged canyons.
“Which way we goin’?” Deek poked his head between Ma and Pa.
“Stupid question.” Pa clucked at the mules. “We go where there’s water.”
Following the water through a ways and through a switchback, the Thurns stopped, stunned.
Boyd broke the reverence. “So much green.”
“It’s a paradise…” whispered Pa.
“It’s perfect.” Ma almost looked genuinely happy.
Before them lay a small bowled valley afresh with greenery—trees and plants, some even bore fruit. It looked alien, this oasis garden nestled in the desert cliffs.
“Oh, oh, oooh.” Deek bounced, pointing past some trees. “A Skylord ship!”
The sun, setting level with the high cliff walls, glinted off a domed metal structure higher than the trees.
“Them’s folk sure don’t look like Skylords.” Deek looked at three people standing at the tree-line—a boy, a man, and a woman with an infant sleeping in a carrier on her back. Their bright blond hair almost shone in the waning light. With exception to the infant, the group wore tan jumpsuits, smudged from work, but practically pristine compared to the Thurns’ ragged attire. The man walked out to the Thurns, the others waiting back by the trees. His smile and open arms were obviously meant to show no threat.
“Yer right, Deek.” Pa sneered at the group. “Look too kind to be Skylords.”
Ma pinched Pa’s leg, making him yelp. “Wipe that grimace off yer face.” She swiped her hand out at the boys. “You two keep quiet. This place looks to be their home and ‘til we know what we’re up aginst, we gotta be the ideal guests.”
Pa nodded. Rubbing his leg, he cracked a yellow-toothed smile at the approaching man. “Fer how long?” he said from the side of his mouth to Ma.
“Gotta find out how many there are.”
“And then?”
“Then we make like the sun…”
Pa licked his cracked lips. “…An’ burn out the weak.”