Out of Exodia (21 page)

Lydia reached a hand out to her friend.
“I’m sorry.” Onita gave a token nod of thanks for the
sympathy.

Bram looked away. The Culling Mandate.
There couldn’t have been anything worse in all of history. Even
Truslow’s mass murders in 2094, when Onita and Marilyn both lost
their parents, didn’t compare.

They continued on in silence past all
the squat one-story dwellings until they came to the center of town
and found a circle of taller structures. The cloud hovered over the
one that had suffered the most ruin.

Bram found his tongue. “That one looks
like they bombed it.”

“
You’re going to think I’m
crazy,” Onita said, lifting a shaky hand to point, “but I’m pretty
sure that was a wedding chapel. A place of worship.” She looked at
Blake. “We could renew the vows we made in the underground city.”
He winked back at her.

* * *

I take hold of Lydia’s hand. Onita’s
comment makes me think how there’s nothing more I want than to make
Lydia my wife. I wish I had never made that promise to her mother.
She’ll only approve our marriage when I fulfill my destiny, which
as I see it now will never be completed. Walking in circles. Living
like gypsies. Fighting as warriors while being fed by an invisible
parent. This endless journey is ripping my heart apart. I go from
mountain highs to desperate lows. Heavy, discouraged. Onita talks
of renewing a marriage that hasn’t marked a single anniversary yet
and here Lydia and I are … waiting … waiting.

“
Down there!” Someone
shouts. “An Exodian truck. It’s moving!”

“
Down where?” I pull the
nano-gun from my belt sack and look past the chapel, down the wide
street, but I see nothing moving. The streets to our left and right
are just as still. I turn my head to find the one whose shout put
us on alert. Cleavon’s brother. He draws his arm back and shakes
his head.

“
Sorry,” he says. “Thought
it was Truslow’s army come to find us. But that vehicle’s broken
down. Abandoned like this town.”

“
Down where?” Lydia
repeats.
Down where
.

Suddenly it doesn’t matter.
Message received.
Wed her
now
.

Chapter 15 The Revolt

From the eleventh page of
the third Ledger:

He followed not the tracks
of the sheep, but the path of lions. He chose a wife, strong and
brave. Because she was darkened not by the sun, his mother’s
daughter was angry with him. His mother’s son withdrew from
him.

IT’S SUCH AN impromptu thing, our
wedding, and yet all the Reds rejoice with us. Barrett’s father
twines a silver cord around our wrists; Teague gives us cool water
from a golden pitcher; Jenny lights an oil lamp for Lydia to hold.
I’m more than pleased, relieved really, that Jenny accepts this
sudden marriage. We make our promises into Malcolm’s contraption
and our simple words boom out from the cloud above. We laugh. We
blow out the lamp. We kiss. The Reds cheer loud and
long.

We bump elbows with nearly everyone as
they circle past us, some we hug. They head on down the road, leave
the tiny village to follow cloud and signs toward the forest. Josh
and Blake lead our horses on and take our bags.

We linger long at this spot. Alone for
a moment.

“
I love you,
Bram.”

“
I love you, Lydia.” I have
a thousand things I want to say to her, but I hold her lovely face
in my hands and speak with my eyes. Tenderness, devotion,
love.