Point Apocalypse (23 page)

"We're here!" the others shouted. "Over here!"

A gust of wind pushed me onto Jim who collapsed onto one knee. Wladas behind me cried out and clasped my elbow pulling me to the ground.
I wouldn't have stayed on my feet had Kathy not offered me her shoulder. With her other hand, she held onto Wong's belt who dragged Georgie along trying to brave the wind.

I wheezed
attempting to take another step. Holding onto each other, we struggled toward the bright light until a new gust of wind knocked us all down.

Sand blinded our eyes and crunched between our teeth.
My swollen tongue was abrasive in my dry mouth. But the light approached - not as fast as we'd thought at first, but it kept moving toward us.

Suddenly
the wind abated. The storm still raged around us but it seemed to have lost its strength, as if it had had its fun playing with new toys and had left us under a falling blanket of sand flecks.

Dust floated in the air. The light went out. The sun sh
one brighter showing bits of sky and a tall human shape.

A
man in long flowing robes and a headdress strode toward us leaning on a staff. His face was covered by a shawl.

"Ahmad,"
Kathy gasped. "This is Ahmad! The goat-herder from the oasis!"

A
large herd of goats followed the man, about forty animals at least.

"You know him well?" I
spat sand as I sat down and picked the dirt out of my ears, nose and eyes.

"
Not really, no. I've seen him a couple times. Normally it was Famba who did all the talking."

Our faces were covered with so much dust you couldn't even see Jim's freckles. W
ladas reached into his bag for the flask and was about to wash his face when Kathy stopped him.

"No
point in wasting water. Have a swig yourself and offer some to the others. You can wipe your face with a cloth."

He complied, a silent question still in his eyes.

"We don't know if we can get more water at the oasis," she explained. "Better save it. Now don't say anything," she lowered her voice. "Leave him to me."

I
nodded. Let her do it. Georgie didn't have enough strength to protest. He sat and wheezed spitting out sand as Jim wiped his face with a cloth. Wong was already back on his feet, his shotgun on his shoulders, greeting the goat herder.

Ahmad walke
d past him without acknowledgment. Kathy waved her hand to him. The goat herder walked toward her and stopped. The bell-jingling goats advanced a little more and stopped too. Some of them bleated, identifying themselves. Long-haired and tailless, they had black patches on their heads and short horns no more than a thumb long. Very sharp.

I sw
ung round remembering the tigers. The storm had moved off toward the river. Had the tigers moved along? Or... I looked at the goats. Could I have mistaken these hairy beasts for tigers? Say, a few had strayed from the herd and the man had whistled to call them back. All that panicking was for nothing.

A silver whistle
dangled on Ahmad's chest. On his belt he wore a lamp very similar to those I saw in the hotel and on Grunt's boat. Still, this one was different. Its base was of the same material as the cave and the Forecomers' tower supports. A glass tube sat in the base letting the light through its convex lenses. A thick cap of the same material covered the lamp.

That's
how we could see the light through the storm. It didn't take long to realize that the deportees applied the Forecomers' technologies to suit their own needs. Why not use a lamp like that when you had no other option?

Ahmad's crafty black eyes
glanced around shiftily. He hid the whistle in the folds of his robe and removed the shawl showing a broad furrowed face. He had a straight nose, a thick moustache and a wiry graying goatee. He must have been old but he stood straight with his wide shoulders and his hand steady on his staff, giving us a lordly look.

"Lost your way," he said in a husky low voice
with a thick Oriental accent and bared his crooked teeth. "Ahmad feed goats, Ahmad see storm. Ahmad see men, come give help."

"We really appreciate it,"
Kathy said gracefully. "How can we make it worth your while?"

"You know price."

"But," Kathy looked back at me, embarrassed, "We..."

"Ahmad?" I produced the fabric tube with the money. "How much?"

The goat herder bared his teeth again. He shook his head, "You new here, man. You misunderstand. I take your guns. You go."

"What's that for a..." I started but
Kathy hissed at me and stomped her foot.

"Who is commander here?" Ahmad gave me a crooked smile
as his hand reached into the folds of his robe.

An animal roar made us turn. The storm had shifted over the river leaving a
haze hanging over the hills. The visibility was good though. A large mound of rocks which we hadn't noticed earlier was piled up on the ground not far from us. The roaring seemed to come from behind it.

"He is,"
Kathy nodded at me.

"Then why woman speak?" Ahmad addressed me.

I looked into the man's crafty eyes. This wasn't the kind of man you could convince easily. He knew what he wanted. He had raised tame tigers for self-protection. That's why Kathy didn't want us to go through the valley. She hadn't had time to explain but it didn't matter. Ahmad would find a way to get his toll paid this way or that. This was his territory, and we'd trespassed.

"She spoke because she knew you," I finally said.

Ahmad looked at Kathy.

"He's
right," she said. "I tried to tell him we shouldn't go this way..."

The herder raised his hand. "Guns."

"What's the swap?" I said.

"Your lives," the smile disappeared from his face. His eyes went cold.

I knew I could kill him, and he knew it, too. That would be the end of us. His tigers would make short work of us.

"Let's meet halfway," I insisted.
"We won't make it there," I waved toward the east, "without our guns."

"Go back to
New Pang. Buy more guns," Ahmad said patiently.

"We can't go there," I said. "We need to keep
going."

The goat herder
raised a bushy eyebrow and stroked his beard. Then he nodded, "Very well. You are Ahmad's guests. Alexie's generator broke. You fix before sunset, we quits."

"Agreed.
" Now I knew the raiders weren't in the oasis otherwise he wouldn't have offered us the deal. He'd have too many visitors to lodge.

Kathy
stared at me open-mouthed but chose not to say anything.

"Go to village,"
Ahmad's hand reappeared from the folds of his robe and rearranged the whistle on the chain. "Woman will show you Alexie's house."

He nearly walked through me. I stepped aside
as did Jim and Wladas. Georgie's sad stare followed the goat herder. The bells jingled and the goats bleated after their master.

Chapter Five

Long Time No See

B
y the time we got to the oasis, Georgie was in a bad way. Blood had soaked his bandage and pant leg and he was very pale, paler than Wladas who helped Jim to support Georgie's limp body.

"That way,"
Kathy pointed at the closest sandstone cabin with a straw roof.

The oasis
consisted of three cabins fenced off with clay bricks, each with several lean-tos and outhouses. We passed through a flimsy gate under a wooden arch and entered a yard where a few gnarly trees cast shade over a well.

No one came out to meet us.

"Wait under the trees," Kathy said and went into the cabin.

Wladas and Jim helped Georgie to sit down.
Wong went for a bit of a recce along the fence. I had a look around.

The
water pump stood on a thick log base next to a bolted-down diesel generator, its insides rusting under bent metal covers. No wonder it had given up the ghost. You really had to take good care of these things and put them under tarps to protect them from the elements.

I raised the creaky lid and looked inside
the well. The water was about sixty feet down the stone-lined shaft. You could tell that whoever had done it knew his job: in a properly lined well, the water level would stay high and clean.

Gutters
snaked from the well to each house, some reaching inside the outhouses, other to water troughs and corrals. In one corral a mule swished its tail, its head low in the feeding trough. Several ostriches were wandering about in another one.

Ostriches
! They must think they're back home in Africa. The third and biggest corral stood empty - had to be for Ahmad's goats that I'd just seen by the river.

One structure stood apart from the rest - a squat
fenced-off barn away from the trees. Wong came to it, took the shotgun off his shoulder and motioned for me to approach. I told the others to stay put and walked over to him.

I smelled blood even before I came close.
Wong kicked the door open. Guns at the ready, we cringed and stepped back. Cages stood inside on the floorboards covered with sawdust. Inside them, I saw half-eaten bones and torn animal skins. I stepped back, unable to stand the thick smell of a menagerie. Five empty water buckets stood by the barn door. No marks for telling me who they were for.

Wong
nodded at the buckets and gave me a meaningful look. I didn't answer. Instead, I turned round and walked back into the shade.

By the time we returned,
Kathy had come out followed by a portly woman, a thick plait of hair dangling below her waist. Her round face was rather crimson at that moment as if she'd spent all morning cooking by the fire. I looked up at the smoke trailing from the chimney.

The woman wiped her plump fingers on a flour-
covered apron, rearranged her dress and said in a deep voice,

"This one,
no?" She pointed at me. "You promised our Ahmad-jan to fix the machine?"

The woman
spoke in a slow Southern Russian singsong. She came to me and offered a firm handshake.

"
I'm Alexie, me. I'm on duty here while the men are away on business."

"Yeah," I glanced at
Kathy.

"Oh," Alexie
looked at Georgie attended by Jim and a foot-shifting Wladas. "He ain't looking good. He'll bleed to death on you in a minute." She looked around and went on, "Bring him into the house. And you," she pointed at me, "go to the larder, get the tools out and see to the machine, will ya?"

After
explaining where to find the larder, the woman showed Wladas and Jim into the house. They carried Georgie in while Wong and Kathy stayed outside.

Their choice of tools didn't amount to much. Three
box wrenches, two screwdrivers and a pair of pliers. I scooped them all off the shelf and came back out.

"Know anything about generators?" I asked
Kathy.

"I can unscrew a bolt if needed."

"Stay and help me, then. Wong," I turned to him, "go and check out direction east. See what's out there."

He checked his handgun,
balanced his shotgun on his shoulder and jumped over the fence. I stared at the generator.

"Know when the raiders are coming back?"
I squatted by the machine thinking how best to tackle it.

"It'll be a while. Alexie said
we've just missed the work shift changeover."

"Hold it here," I
dropped the wrench onto a bolt aiming to unscrew the cowling to get to the fuel line.

"It'll be at least another week,"
Kathy lay her hands on the wrench and held it in position. "We've been lucky. Ahmad doesn't normally bargain."

Lucky indeed. If
only I could have worked out what was wrong with the generator!

"You think you can fix it?" hope shone in
Kathy's eyes.

"I'll do what I can," I grunted as I unscrewed the first bolt.

Once I'd removed the cover, I squatted by the machine tapping the wrench against my leg. What had we got there? A gas feed tap. A fuel pipe. I unscrewed the tank top - empty. I pushed my hand through the hole and felt the bottom. My fingers came out filthy. So... I'd remove the tank, clean the fuel pipe and try to start it.

"Well," I turned to
Kathy, "if I don't get it working in an hour, they'll need a professional."

She
didn't reply.

"
Not to worry," I said. "The engine seems okay, but the tank filter is probably clogged and so is the fuel pipe. Go to the woman and ask her for some rags and diesel. Tell her we'll soon be finished."