“Masks ready.” Kol saw the billowing smoke in the distance. They’d driven, night and day. He and Duncan drove in shifts, hurrying across the almost thousand miles between the Outreach Base and Littlefield.
The old Mother Road was broken, cratered and destroyed where it intersected with the newer interstate. When the Thunderworks fleet had flown over, five years earlier, major highways in energy country made irresistible targets.
“There’s a space with no road and we have some underground fire,” he said.
“There were no coal fields in this area,” Max said. “What’s burning?”
“I don’t know,” Kol said. “It could be something deeper than commercial mining detected. It could be some reaction between Thunderworks weaponry and what’s under the ground. We have to mask up if we get a whiff of anything.”
“It’s unbelievable.” Duncan was already clothed as a civilian, other than the helmet in his lap. The next time he wore his uniform, the mission to Littlefield would be over. Kol would be free to avoid the Aesir crew forever, free to avoid Brielle until their argument passed into memory.
“It’s difficult to take in the scope of everything that’s changed in the world.” Max was no longer reading the Gregory memoir, Wayfarers Highway. He now held a collection of printed notes and the training helmet Kol had lent him as an emergency rebreather. “Knowing and seeing are very different. You can know that most governments are gone and that society has fallen so far, but traveling from one side of the old country to the other and seeing the devastation everywhere, it strains the mind.”
Kol eased them onto the shoulder of the road and then onto the dusty ground. The rover maintained a level course, its axle-stabilizing sensor absorbing the majority of the shock and adjusting for the uneven terrain.
Kol might have imagined it, but the ground seemed to smoke more intensely at their passing, rising in wisps, all around them. The rover did not have the sensors necessary to determine the geological integrity of the ground.
“I don’t know if it’s changed that much.” Duncan pointed to the left. “People are still trying to sell weird crap.”
There, surrounded by the rising smoke, stood the bodies of four Thunderworks automatons.
These machines were headless and their many-limbed bodies were converted to hold billboards, their solar-power cells repurposed to send wireless neon advertisements glowing out over the constantly smoky road.
“Do you miss the sweet taste of your favorite soft drink? Karl’s Koke can replicate all of your favorite flavors. Over fifty flavors, available on demand – 35 miles!”
“Real Life SUCKS! Live the life you want. Live the life you deserve. Live in FANTASY VISION – 60 miles.”
“How the hell do businesses stay open out here?” Kol watched the road on his right, eyeing the craters. Some of them were stretched wider than the highway, burrowed into the earth by missiles and energy strikes. “Who lives here?”
“People who have always lived here,” Max said. “Would we have left Philadelphia or the capitol area? What would it take for us to leave forever?”
“I see your point.” Kol eyed the horizon. He thought he could see an end to the burning, the edges of the incinerated swath Thunderworks had cut across the land. “I just want to get us back there in one piece.
“And speaking of that. Duncan, keep your eyes peeled for anywhere we might buy a used car.”
“Why?” Duncan turned to look at him.
“Because I don’t want to use Sloan’s equipment. I want something that belongs to us, that we can use to head back east, if necessary, when the time comes.”
“We have the rover,” Duncan said. “Why would we buy some old clunker?”
“We need something that can’t be requisitioned away,” Kol said. “I have no intention of being stuck here waiting to reach Lost Park or fighting with locals.”
“That wouldn’t happen,” Duncan said. “They can’t requisition us. We have our special mission.”
“The Liberty Corps Chain of Command is fairly vague on special assignments, such as yours,” Max said. “Especially with Adrian Ceese operating alongside this Sloan.”
“Adrian who?” Duncan asked.
“Sir Adrian Nine-flails,” Kol said. “I assume. How did you find record of his surname? I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before.”
“It’s an educated guess, based on public data,” Max said. “But Kol, for the record, I think maintaining the independence of your own operation is reasonable prudence. The loyalty we pursued in… Well, maybe I shouldn’t dwell on comparisons.”
“You couldn’t just get the equipment from Brielle?” Duncan asked. “Or is she still pissed at you?”
“Let’s not talk about Major Rinlee.” Kol finally saw the broken interstate veer away from Route 66. The older road was nearly whole, damaged only by wear and by time.
“That bad?” Duncan asked.
“I’m sorry if I interfered in your love life, Kol,” Max said.
“You didn’t. Everything’s complicated, and she wants... I think she’ll forgive me when I find the Dreamside Road.” He drove the rover back onto Route 66. “In any case, we need a car and a safe place to store our Dreamside Road information.”
“What happens if we blow through hundreds of bucks in our budget for a vehicle we could’ve temporarily gotten from another division? Won’t some bean counter have our asses for that?”
“We’ll use my money for the car. I saved thousands of dollars during those months I did nothing but plan for Nimauk. I already converted cash into bills from all of the local currencies, to pay for storage.”
“Do you really think we’ll find somewhere safe enough to leave the Crater Base files unguarded?” Max asked.
“NO!” Duncan yelled. “That’s what you mean? I’m sorry, Kol. You’re usually the best with plans, but that’s a shit idea. There’s nowhere we could leave that stuff. We almost died to get that information.”
“We have no choice!” Kol raised his voice. He’d weighed their options, all poor, all dangerous. “This is the only way. We obviously can’t risk sending those records with you to Littlefield, but I don’t want any of the Dreamside Road information near Sloan, or Nine-flails, or any other potential rival.”
* * *
“Can you, uh, please dial down the fog thing?” Orson asked.
Enoa sensed him when he stepped from the Aesir. She’d been training in the Midnight Sight and Flow Sense techniques. Two empty water jugs sat beside her. She could see them no easier than she could see the Aesir or Orson. She couldn’t see anything, but she could feel them. She knew their contour, and she could feel all movement around her. She knew the smallest motion, even running ants, scurrying to a hill, hidden at the fence.
And the edges of her awareness expanded through the thin fog that spread across the nearby blocks of town. Fog was short-lived and faint in the dry climate, but the proximity of multiple streams gave Enoa enough cover to practice without being too conspicuous. And it helped her hone her senses. Enoa knew every dog walked in the predawn hour, in that corner of Littlefield.
“Sorry!” Enoa wasn’t willing to waste her water. Instead, she let it dissipate and thin out.
When the coverage cleared, she saw a hologram projected from the bracelet on her wrist.
You’re learning to hide, (new user)! You’re well on your way to full initiate. RANK: Advanced Beginner LEVEL: 7 SHAPE: Anemos MODE: Training
Enoa dissipated the fog yet further. She tried and failed to keep her growing pride from stealing her attention. Some of the mist evaporated.
She saw Orson’s visor lights. He walked toward her.
“I can just use the infrared,” he said. “It’s not ideal, but I can get to the house. You can keep on practicing.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. She tried to speed up the process, but she felt more of the fog evaporate in the rapidly warming and drying air. The sun was rising. The convenient morning mist would soon be gone. Maybe then she would steal more time to sleep. “Are you always up this early?”
“Eh, my sleep schedule is all over the place.” He walked past her but didn’t enter the house. “But usually not. I just heard from Eloise.”
“Bad news?” she asked.
“Maybe,” he said. “The Liberty Corps, they might know we’ve been listening in. They’ve stopped using their scanner system.”
“Does she think they’re really planning an attack?” Enoa released more of the water, her mind snapping away from that task.
“Yes. It doesn’t look like an imminent thing, but it’s worth taking a look.”
“Okay.” Enoa let go of the moisture. It evaporated so fast she could feel the air drying. She could feel her extended Flow Sense diminishing. A wave of accompanying dizziness came over her. It was as if one of her senses had suddenly diminished and she was not prepared for it. “What do you think is going to happen?”
“I have no idea. But after almost twelve years of doing this kinda thing, I feel like we’re headed for another mess.”
* * *
“Welcome to Old Sixty-Six Self-Storage.” Despite the dusty ‘No Smoking’ sign on the window, the middle-aged man behind the desk had a long pipe between his lips.
A second man sat in a wooden chair, at the wall, behind the counter. He didn’t look up when Kol and Duncan arrived at the front desk. His attention stayed on the paperback book he was reading, but his right hand moved to the sawed-off shotgun in his lap.
“All your goods secure,” the clerk said. “Safe storage for a reasonable fee. What can I do for you?”
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“Hello!” Duncan beamed at the clerk. Both he and Kol wore civilian clothing, sweatshirts and jeans and light jackets. “We have some of our Aunt Arlene’s things to store, mainly papers and old photos. We’re looking for her. She’s missing, and she lived in this area, when she was little. Our car is in a bad way, and we don’t want to carry all of it with us, in case we break down. We also don’t want to leave her things behind.”
Kol aimed a gloved hand over his shoulder, toward the window, where the fifty-year-old Plymouth station wagon could be seen, parked at the curb.
The clerk’s attention flicked to Kol, to the window, and back again. Kol tried not to respond. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone somewhere out of uniform. He felt naked and exposed, especially under the clerk’s appraising stare.
“Uh-huh,” the man said. “Uh-huh, we can help with that. We rent month-to-month. I’m afraid prices have increased quite a bit, with security costs what they are. What size unit are you looking for?”
“I think we’d be fine with the smallest you have,” Duncan said.
“For a five foot by five foot unit, that’ll be four hundred dollars. We’re having a special right now. Each additional month is then seventy-five percent off.”
“Lots of folks passing through, I get you.” Duncan looked at Kol, who drew out his wallet.
“Is the fee in Gulf Alliance Dollar?” Kol lowered his voice. Despite Duncan’s coaching, he couldn’t alter the rhythm of his speech or make himself sound like the casual drifter he was supposed to be.
“It is, at least for now. We take old U.S. coin too, also Pacific Alliance Dollar, and Mississippi Alliance Dollar – with an added ten percent fee. We don’t take that Liberty Coin or any of the eastern moneys, but we are open to various barter and trade agreements.”
“I have the money. Here’s five hundred, even.” Kol withdrew the amount in Gulf Dollars. He’d converted some of his savings into a variety of currencies, before their departure from the Outreach Base. “For two months.”
“God willing it won’t take that long to find her,” Duncan said.
“Good luck in your search. Lots of people going missing now. Damn shame.” The clerk walked the bills away, through a small door on the opposite wall. Kol noticed there was no cash register. The clerk returned with a stack of paperwork. “We’ll need a contact name and a little information about the contents. We still follow the old liability procedures, never know which way the wind’s gonna blow.”
“Well, I’m Duncan Greco, but I don’t have any contact right now. I’m looking for a place.”
“I get that a lot. In that case, you’ll need to sign the release, says I can clear out the unit and confiscate the contents, at the end of your contract, without grace period, if you don’t pay to extend it.”
Duncan stepped forward, took a pen from the desk and began completing the forms. “Speaking of contacts,” he said. “Uh, if we do end up staying in the region longer, is there anywhere with work near here? We’ve heard some good stuff about Littlefield.”
“Oh yeah.” The clerk returned Duncan’s smile. “Nobody around here hires like the Corwins in Littlefield, that’s for sure. I’ve got a few job listings up on the bulletin board too. Most of them are in Littlefield, if you care to take a look. Great town. And there are a couple decent boarding houses there from all the workers coming in. I can give you some names. The old Hayes couple has a great big place. They had seven kids, y’know, and all that space is rented out now their youngsters are grown. It’s shared bath, but it’s homey. And Corwins have bunk houses for their new workers.”
“I’ll take a look once we get everything stored.” Duncan slid the forms back to the clerk. “You never know.”
“What do you do?” The clerk gave Duncan a business card from a stack on the far end of the counter. “If you find something local, we’re on the telegraph lines along the old railroad, so you could send your new contact information to me.”
“That’s a great idea!” Duncan smiled. “Thanks! I’ve had to do a little of everything these last few years, but I’m hoping for mechanic work. I’ve never done farming. I haven’t grown so much as a houseplant in my life.” The clerk laughed. Even the guard with the book and the gun chuckled.
“You have unit thirty-nine.” The clerk handed an envelope of papers to Duncan. “Your combination is in here.”
“Thank you very much.” Duncan turned toward the door. Kol nodded and followed him outside, back to the station wagon. The rover and Max waited for them, in an abandoned lot, two miles away. Kol opened the back of the old station wagon.
“Everything’s supposedly camera monitored,” Duncan said. “And all locks are timed for entry, so they know who’s come and gone. I also need to decide which of my things to take with me and which to give to you. My laptop has backups of some of the Dreamside Road information.”
“You still think I’m nuts storing things here,” Kol said.
“I do, but if you’re nuts, we should both be nuts.”
Kol lifted the case of Sucora Cloud records. The papers had been reorganized so the discs and drives recovered from Crater Base could be hidden between them. The Cloud letter was in there too, buried at the heart of the case.
He carried the clear plastic bin in plain view of the clerk and his bodyguard. He hoped the transparent case of papers would assuage any curious thoughts.
Duncan led them to unit thirty-nine. The 5x5 units stood close to the main building. Kol eyed the nearby security cameras. He saw three, situated at the electrical wiring running between units.
“Remind me to give you your TS cylinder,” he said. “I have it in my luggage. You need the tracker if things go wrong, but we need to figure out where we can hide it.”
“Are you okay?” Duncan entered the combination. The lock opened. “I know our stay with Brielle didn’t go the way you wanted it.”
“I shouldn’t have gone there.” Kol opened the unit door and set the case inside. “Or maybe I just shouldn’t have brought Max along. I don’t know.”
“It’ll get better in a few days. We’ll be on track again after Littlefield, unless the outlaw captain cuts my head off. And if I do get lopped apart, come up with something more dignified to tell my sisters and my folks, okay?”
“Don’t talk that way,” Kol said. “By the time Gregory realizes there’s anything wrong, he’ll have bigger things to worry about.”
“We need to rehearse something in case either of us die. I’m serious. How have we never talked about this before? I want something impressive. ‘Duncan died in a blaze of glory saving that puppy day care from the terrorist bombers.’ Something like that.”
“Now you’re crazy.”
“Seriously,” Duncan said. “What do you want?”
“Fine. Give me a second.” Kol considered his life and his hopes, and all his countless failures. “I have it. ‘Kolben Maros died trying to do the right thing.’”
“How maudlin.” Duncan shook his head. “God, I was only kidding.”
“Do you think I should rig this thing against forced entry?”
“Nah, it might draw attention from these people,” Duncan said. “It’s not like any of the contents could be sold. If you’re sure about your dumb idea, this is the best way.” He touched his right hand to his wrist. “Remind me to give you my watch before I drive to Littlefield.”
“You don’t think the watch will be safe with you?” Kol opened the lid on the case. He adjusted the papers, spreading the mess of financial information and decades’ old receipts evenly over the priceless data hidden within. He sat Mrs. Greco’s photo album squarely on top of the pile.
“I think most migrants probably pawn their watches, even if they inherited them. You can hold onto it. I’ll give it to you when we get back on the road. It was my granddad’s, so don’t let anybody requisition it.
“I’ll keep it safe, absolutely.”
“You better. If someone managed to kill you, I’d have to track him down just to get my watch back.”
“It’s a good way to make sure I’m avenged.” Kol snapped the lid back on the case. “Are we done here?”
“Yeah. We’re done.”
Kol closed the unit door and made sure it had locked.
* * *
“I can never do any proper training when I’m staying with friends.” Orson swung the weighted, training sword. “This thing doesn’t feel right.” He struck the wooden dummy, focusing on his sword strikes. He aimed for millimeter-thin lines he’d drawn on the dummy’s torso. “Even with the training sword, I’m so conscious of the noise.”
“The Liberty Corps already knows we’re here and where everybody lives.” Jaleel stood on the opposite side of the fenced yard. He held his modified bow. The bow now also bore the housings for three other projectile launchers, weapons Jaleel could trigger with his fingers. Orson recognized the stolen spraystick, but not the other two. Jaleel had set up a target and was proceeding to test a variety of arrows.
Enoa was also ostensibly training. She had her own target set up. She sat in the grass, her eyes closed, breathing deeply, her staff untouched. Wesley sat on the ground, beside her. He didn’t move, but his eyes were open, watching her.
Orson was warm enough to train, but he didn’t imagine he’d be very comfortable sitting still, on the ground. He wasn’t sure whether Enoa was still engrossed in her mental exercises or if she’d fallen asleep. She’d been training on and off for almost eight hours.
“I still feel weird having the sword out in the middle of town.” Orson slammed the training blade into the ‘neck’ of the dummy, sending it tumbling from its stand. “See, the training blade’s hard rubber is so loud, but it has to be light so it’s balanced like the fire sword.”
“Should I not be doing this?” Jaleel sent an arrow into the target. “I need to make sure the new rack doesn’t get in the way, but I don’t want to be too loud.”
“You’re good,” Orson sheathed the sword and stooped down to retrieve the wooden dummy. “Eloise and Carlos both say this is fine, while we’re here, as long as we don’t explode anything. Eloise did just as much training, with weird stuff, when she was in the crew.”
“What did she do? She talked about working with scientists and I don’t remember everyone she mentioned. Was she like mission control or something?”
“She was the Aesir’s main in-flight gunner for a while. She’s always been a good shot. She and Arthur Haydn were both clever fighters, but they did a lot of the research and mission control type stuff. We had a couple former mercenaries, who brought the muscle and did most of the fighting. Sirona had her fire thing.” Orson took another swing at the dummy, this time pivoting from foot to foot. “And I honestly only started getting good at any of it right before everything fell apart.”
“That’s not true,” Eloise walked through the house’s back door. “You won almost every fight you had, even if you needed to get bailed out a lot.”
“What does that mean?” Enoa stood. She brushed off her pants and stretched her arms.
“He was always ready to get himself into trouble,” Eloise said. “But he needed the rest of us. We all needed each other, really. I don’t think any of us then could have done alone what Orson does now – or what he did alone, until you kids joined him.”
“I was just an average joe who got pulled into adventure world,” Orson said. “The sword of fire gave me a leg up, right away, but it took me a long time to weaponize my natural mayhem. As long as nobody shot me, there weren’t many hand-to-hand combatants who could fight me, though. Even now I have less proper dueling practice than I’d like. You can count on your fingers how many people I’ve met who have weapons that can take on the sword.”
Eloise laughed. “Do you remember that South African guy who was smuggling the artwork, and he had that weird painting with the hypnotizing eyes or whatever…”
“Jay something Swart?” Orson asked. “What about him?”
“I’m just thinking of those, I don’t know what the martial art is called, the judo guys he had working for him. And you’d had the sword for only a year or two then. They were serious martial artists, but you just kept on waving the sword around, and they couldn’t get anywhere near you.”
“I forgot all about that,” he laughed too.
“Did you talk to the lady with the aeropines?” Enoa asked. Wesley had also stood and was waddling around her feet, chirping.
“Mrs. Martinez?” Eloise asked. “Yes, she told me this long story about how an aeropine saved the family cat from a scorpion. I’ve heard that a few times already, but she also has some care information for you. She’s adopted three of them, so far, and she says she has a packet to send along.
“Oh, and that reminds me why I came out here! Finally, we have some good news. The Pacific Alliance is sending a detachment. They can be here by the weekend. We only need to hold out for another four days.”
* * *
Kol watched Duncan drive away in the old station wagon, taking Route 66 toward Littlefield. He would arrive in the small desert town before nightfall, early enough to seek lodging and work, early enough that his arrival would hopefully be less than suspicious.
Max didn’t say much on their trip south to Governor Sloan’s camp. He didn’t read. His eyes were fixed on the western horizon and the vibrant orange and purple sunset.
Kol didn’t let himself dwell on his brother’s silence. He rehearsed in his mind, thinking about his hopes of delaying Sloan and about the unexpected complexities of his mission.
They passed three small communities, scattered lights visible from far off in the desert night. Kol wondered about them and the brazen way they advertised their position to anyone on the road. Were they certain of their safety? Did Sloan protect these people?
Kol saw a fourth community in the far distance, this one significantly larger and brighter, lights too numerous to count, a genuine town. He didn’t remember seeing reference, to such a place, on his maps.
But then he heard the noise, and he saw the light from the line of trucks approaching from behind him. They sounded their horns and cheered, the truck convoy going at easily one hundred miles per hour.
There were eight trucks in total, along with two jeeps. All bore the sign of an eagle carrying a sword in one talon and a rifle in the other – a Liberty Corps seal.
“Freedom and might! Liberty Corps forever!” A man screamed from one of the trucks. It slowed as it passed the rover. Kol lowered his window and raised his fist to the caravan.
A roar rose up from the procession, their cries overlapping, an unintelligible cacophony. They sped away, into the distance, toward the growing mass of lights.
It was not a town. This was Governor Sloan’s war force.
Kol sped up too, but not to the breakneck pace of the other Corps forces. A party of that size had to be almost a regiment, but not infantry trained. These people were not prepared to negotiate. They were prepared for war, and he had sent his oldest friend to the town they intended to slaughter.
Max still did not speak, but Kol knew his anger. He could feel it. Kol had hoped for a loud, but controlled gathering. Even the contempt of someone like Divenoll would be preferable to this. Would Max know enough not to argue with the bloodlust-filled mob?
A dirt road broke off from the route south. Whatever purpose it once had served could not be determined, but it led to Sloan’s encampment. There was a prefab guard house situated at the intersection. Three armed trucks waited there, all crewed. Two squads surrounded the area. All snapped to attention at the rover’s arrival.
“Captain Kolben Maros.” He lowered the window when he reached the guard house. “I’m here to answer Governor Sloan’s call for an adviser.”
“Captain Maros.” A guard approached the rover. “Governor Sloan’s been hoping to meet you. The war force is almost assembled – nine hundred fighters, so far.”