Apocalypse (The Wasteland Chronicles, #1) (11 page)

Another man stepped forward, not seeming to
care. “You invite danger to our trading party, and you wish to join
us?”

“Look,” Makara said. “They’re in the area,
and they will probably come after you anyway. You might as well
take us. We’re both armed and good in a fight.”

“How many are there?”

“Five. As of four hours ago, they were on the
other side of those hills. Now, they could be anywhere.”

I now noticed something among the pack
animals that greatly disturbed me. The dust had settled a bit,
revealing not only the animals and the cloaked men who led them…but
also people: thin, stooping...

Chained.

“Makara…”

It appeared she noticed, too. Her face went
white.

“These are slavers,” she said.

Now, the hooded men seemed all the more
sinister, and more filed our way. Some held rifles. I could count
at least six of them.

“You travel to Oasis?” Makara asked. “Slavery
is illegal there.”

“Times are changing, girl. Raine is dead, and
the L.A. gangs are always looking for fresh meat. Ohlan will let us
stay there – with fair compensation, of course.”

Both of the men stepped forward. Makara
pulled out her handgun.

“Stop.”

Instantly, four hooded men drew their own
guns, pointing them at us.

“Put your weapon down,” the man said. “This
is our only warning.”

“Let me make you a warning,” Makara said.
“You take one step closer and I’ll blow your brains out. Now
back off
.”

The man smirked, amused. His companion stood
next to him, saying nothing. The other men stood by, awaiting their
leader’s order. Several of the slaves looked back, with hollow,
haunting eyes. I wanted to save them, somehow, only I didn’t even
know if Makara and I could save ourselves.

“It was nice knowing you, Makara.”

The blaring of a horn came from the caravan.
The hooded men looked at each other.

Makara smiled. “Looks like you got some real
Raiders to deal with now.”

Gunshots were fired near the caravan. The
same men we had run from just hours before now charged toward the
goods-laden train.

“Defend the caravan!” the leader said.

It was amazing how quickly they turned from
us, but we didn’t have time to appreciate our luck. Makara grabbed
me by the arm.

“Now would be a good time to go,” she
said.

For what seemed the tenth time that day, we
started running, away from the trail and into the desert to the
east. After running about a mile, we slowed to a walk. We still
heard the sounds of guns in the distance.

“No more running,” I said.

“We need more distance,” Makara said. “Brux
might have seen us.”

The afternoon light was fading. When Makara
saw me lagging behind, she knew she couldn’t push my limits any
longer. Off in the distance stood a little house. It looked so
similar to the one we had stayed in the night before that at first
I thought it was the same one. But I knew it couldn’t be, because
we were in a completely different area.

“Let’s hope no one’s home,” Makara said.
“I’ve never stayed out this far before. Hopefully, Brux and his
gang don’t know about this place.”

When we arrived, the door was wide open. We
went in, finding the place empty and full of dust. Makara dropped
her stuff to the floor, and I dropped mine nearby. I went back out
on the porch, where there were two chairs. I wrapped myself in my
blanket, and sat.

“That doesn’t look good,” Makara said.

“What?”

She pointed toward the eastern horizon,
toward what appeared to be a wall of low mountains accelerating
toward us. Then I realized they weren’t mountains. They were
clouds. Lightning flashed within them.

“Nasty one, from the looks of it,” Makara
said. “Better grab these chairs and step inside. It’s going to be a
long night.”

“What is it?”

“A solid wall of dust and electricity.
They’ll kill you if you’re caught in one. Lightning strikes,
getting buried in the sand, something heavy being thrown at
you…they’re called Devil’s Walls for a reason.”

“Will the house hold up?”

“Probably. It’s seen hundreds of storms, I’ll
bet. But you never know.”

“Comforting.”

“Come on. Let’s move.”

The clouds were closer now. They moved
incredibly fast. The last gleams of the fading sun cast pink,
purple, and orange over the wall of cloud. The shifting of light
and shadow, together with the lightning, gave it a dangerous
beauty.

Makara pulled me inside and shut the door
tight.

As soon as we were in, I collapsed on the
floor.

“Hope the storm gets to Brux and the rest of
them,” Makara said. “That would make things a lot easier.”

Makara and I sat in our chairs as the first
wave of sand slammed against the house’s eastern wall. From the
groan of the wood, I thought it would cave in right there. But it
held up and merely creaked.

Outside the windows lightning flashed, so
close I thought it would hit us. Living underground, I had never
seen lightning. I didn’t expect it to be so blinding and
terrifying.

We ate a quick meal – the last of the rice
bread, and some water – and went to sleep along the western
wall.

Well, Makara went to sleep. It was much
harder for me. The lightning and the storm were too much. Besides
the occasional flash of lightning, the house was cold and pitch
black. I watched Makara’s form, wondering how she could sleep
through it.

Outside the wind roared, and the temperature
dropped until my breath clouded the dry air. All I wanted was to be
warm. The wind seeped through the cracks, and I could feel the dust
settling on my face, getting in my mouth. My hands and feet were
numb. Makara’s breathing remained regular with sleep.

“Makara?”

She didn’t hear me. I got up and began pacing
the house. I was tired, sore, and cold – and, as always, hungry and
thirsty. I wanted nothing more than to be back underground, where
it was warm, where it was safe, and where there was always food. I
would have killed for a hot shower.

I lay down again. If I’d had the guts, I
would have woken Makara up and asked to share our blankets.

Finally, I began drifting off. I was on the
edge of dreams when a guttural scream shook the entire frame of the
house, jolting me awake.

Makara’s eyes opened and she shot up from
where she had been lying. She reached for her gun and held it
close. She looked at me and held a finger to her mouth.

“Don’t move,” she whispered.

I heard something
big
scratching on
the ground outside. It was barely discernible above the roar of the
wind. I heard what I thought were heavy breaths. I hoped it was
only the wind.

“It’s one of
them
,”
she
said.

I knew instantly what she was talking about.
It wasn’t a Raider, or a slaver. It was one of these monsters
Makara spoke of.

“
Here
?”
I asked.

As we lay quiet in the house, my heart
pounded. I hoped that if I breathed softly, if I didn’t move, this
thing
would go away. The storm raged on outside. We waited
for what seemed an hour.

We didn’t hear from
it
again.

“It’s gone,” Makara said.

“What could be that big?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Makara said. “That virus can
do weird things – make animals much bigger than they were meant to
be. We must be near a Blight. Now go to sleep.”

I lay down, and closed my eyes. I didn’t know
how I
could
sleep with what she just told me. Yet despite
that scare, I found myself soon drifting off.

The next morning, we woke late. The storm was
over. Still, Makara told me to stay inside while she went to check
things out.

A minute later, she came back in.

“There’s nothing out there,” she said. “We
lost a lot of time yesterday, but we still might make Oasis by
sundown if we hurry.”

We left the house, and traveled all day
without seeing another soul. It felt lonesome out in the Wasteland,
but given what I’d seen of people out here, I guess that was a good
thing.

We avoided the road and struck northeast,
through the desert.

“Aren’t there supposed to be cities around
here?”

“Yeah, Oasis. Twenty miles.”

“No. I mean, it’s only been thirty years
since Meteor, right? You’d think there’d be more buildings
around.”

“This area was pretty bare even before
that.”

“Still…”

“We’re somewhere north of a city that was
called Yucca. There are still signs of it, in some places. You can
see buildings, half-buried in the dirt.”

The day was warmer than yesterday, and the
clouds were not as thick. They were still red – always red. And of
course, there was not a trace of vegetation on the ground.

It seemed to be getting worse the farther we
headed north. Dunes rose from the earth, making me feel as if I was
traversing a cold Sahara rather than Southern California. It was
tough to climb them. Just seeing those dunes made me feel thirstier
and more tired than I already was. We were rationing our water –
there would be none until Oasis.

We never stopped, not even once, as we
plodded north. It no longer felt cold – in fact, I had broken into
a light sweat. I was getting used to the work of walking, though
there was a constant gnawing at my belly. The promise of a hot meal
was all that kept me going.

We passed a few buildings, hills, rocky
outcrops, and the day never brightened beyond a dull, monotonous
red. As evening came, we crested a rise and came to a valley
covered with sand, surrounded in the distance by a ring of low,
brown mountains. Wooden buildings crowded around a small lake in
the center of the valley, and a circular, wooden wall surrounded
the settlement.

As we paused before the sight, my heart
swelled with happiness. After everything, we had finally made
it.

“Oasis,” Makara said. “It is good to see
you.”

It was thirty minutes before we stood before
the giant wooden gate. Two muscled guards sat in fold-out chairs in
the watchtower connected to it. Each had a rifle propped next to
him. They scowled as we stopped before the entrance.

“Not looking good, Makara…”

“Quiet. You’re making me nervous.”

Neither of the guards said a word. One was
tall and black, and chewed on a cigar, letting the ash fall to his
feet. The other was tan with cropped blond hair. They stared down
at Makara and me from their perch.

We stood there a while, Makara never breaking
her gaze from the men’s after mine had long fallen to the sand.

Finally, the black guard spoke. “What do you
want with us, Raider? You know you and your ilk are unwelcome
within these walls.”

“I am not a Raider,” Makara said, her voice
level. Her calm voice carried as well as a shout would. “Just a
traveler, seeking a place to rest.”

“Humph,” The guard said. “A likely story.
Then the caravan leader who now rests safely within our walls must
be lying. He saw you with the Raiders yesterday. They made off with
quite a bit of loot. I’m surprised your share wasn’t great enough
to keep you from begging here.”

“We oughta shoot you on sight,” the blond
guard drawled.

The black guard smiled at that. I was ready
to turn around. But Makara stood her ground.

“Let me speak to Elder Ohlan.”

The black guard’s eyes narrowed. “Elder Ohlan
need not speak with scum such as you. I suggest you turn back. Now.
Before I put a bullet in your head.”

“Ohlan knows me. And I knew Raine. I am
Makara of the Lost Angels.”

The guards exchanged curious looks. The blond
guard nodded, and the black guard turned to speak to Makara.

“Those are not light words you speak, Angel,”
the black guard said, adding a note of skepticism to that word.
“Many would claim allegiance with the Angels. What proof do you
have?”

“This,” Makara said, lifting her sleeve.

The blond guard fiddled with something behind
him. A spotlight clicked on, throwing a beam of bright light on us.
I held my hand to my eyes. The light clicked off.

“Well enough, traveler,” the black guard
said. “If that work is false, then it is well done. I will tell
Ohlan you are here. I will return when I have an answer.”

The black guard left; the other one stood
watching, holding his gun and looking ready to use it.

“Don’t say a word,” Makara said softly. “With
luck, Ohlan will remember me. The Lost Angels are still highly
spoken of in the Wastes. And…Ohlan has another reason to let me
in.”

“What’s that?”

“Raine. He was not like the other gang lords.
He was good. He helped people. He even helped build Oasis’s walls.
He’s the reason the Raiders don’t own everything up to the border
of L.A.”

We stood in front of the gate for a while.
The blond guard stood like a statue, paying no heed to our
conversation.

“How do you know Ohlan, anyway?”

“I guess I forgot to tell you that part,”
Makara said. “Ohlan is Raine’s brother.”

We waited a long time. With the night came
the chill, and it wasn’t long before I was shivering. Makara gave a
small hiss. I stopped.

Finally, the black guard came back

“You are to come in,” he said. “Elder Ohlan
wishes to speak with you.”

The gate started to move. It creaked, rolling
back inch by inch.

“First, you must surrender your weapons. They
will be returned upon leaving.”

Makara did so. I noticed that, after giving
up her first gun, she gave up another one from her pack.

“You’ve had
two
?
This whole
time?”