WastelandRogue (16 page)

“What does that mean?”

“Either we need to shut down and let the engine cool or we
keep going and hope it takes us as far as needed.”

She didn’t want to stop. “Shut it down. I could use some
fresh air. Trapped in here with this stench is making me sick.” She touched the
throbbing ache in her head.

“Are you drinking enough?” Sevrin reached for the flask and
she grabbed it first.

“I’ve had plenty.” She opened it and took another sip, then
offered it to him.

“I don’t need any right now.” He brought the steam-trekkerto a halt and turned off the engine.

She opened the door and hopped out first, anxious to get
away from the putrid odor inside the vehicle.

Sevrin lifted a hatch on the front of the steam-trekker, she
assumed to help the cooling-off process.

“Not a lick of shade around here, is there?” He slid his
hand over his head, wiping back his sweat-dampened hair. “With the sun straight
up, not even one side of the steam-trekkercan offer relief.”

“Except for under it,” she commented.

“And that is dripping with condensation from the steam
pipes. It wouldn’t be a comfort to have boiling water dropping on us.” He took
her hand. “We’ll just have to find something to distract us from this prickly
weather.”

“Like what?” she asked, pretending she didn’t know that he
was suggesting they have sex.

He glanced around in all directions and then pulled her
along. “Come with me.”

She walked, keeping her fingers wrapped around his.

“Where are we going?” If they were going to get naked, she
saw no reason to venture away from the steam-trekker.

“You’ll see.” He bent down and pulled a knife from inside
his boot.

Flooded with a sudden wariness, she was glad he let go of
her hand. She stopped walking as he went a few paces ahead.

“What are you doing?” she moved forward to see what he
stooped near.

“Not quite big enough to call food but this will wet our dry
mouths.” He cut into a small thorny green plant growing between two rocks.
“Have you ever tried this before?”

“No.”

He rose holding the plant with the bottom corner of his
coat. “It’s called a cactus. The lizards live off them.” He flipped up a rock
with the toe of his boot as if to check for one of the baby reptiles.

“I guess that’s great for them.”

“And us.” He cut away the spiny green skin until he held
only the pulpy core in his palm. “Take a bite.”

“I don’t eat food.”

“Just try it,” he insisted, holding it near her lips.

She opened her mouth and took a small bite. “You like this?”
she said while chewing.

“Sure, don’t you?” He ate a large piece.

She didn’t answer, not wanting to hurt his feelings. He
tried so hard to keep her spirits up.

“Have some more.” He put it to her lips.

“No more.” She turned her head away.

“It’s a good replacement for water. In this heat we’re both
susceptible to sun-fever if we don’t get enough liquids.”

Reluctantly, she took another bite.

Sevrin ate the last piece. Then as if to find another, he
surveyed the ground.

“The engine should have had enough time to cool a little,”
she suggested to avoid having to eat more cactus as well as to resume their
journey.

“I suppose it won’t cool too much in this heat.” He took her
hand.

The casual gesture elated her and they quietly strolled back
to the steam-trekker.

Before she climbed up, Sevrin touched her cheek with the
back of his hand. He brushed his knuckles back and forth, then leaned and
kissed the tip of her nose. “Drink more water,” he said.

She again nodded her agreement to appease him. As she
climbed into the steam-trekker, she touched her face. She didn’t think she felt
too warm, although a powerful thirst continued to plague her, along with a dry
throat.

As Sevrin drove along, she picked out landmarks for gauging
distance to and from each by the time that passed. The steam-trekker covered
ten to twenty times the ground she could at a steady walk. While they had
planned a quicker arrival, twice they had to backtrack out of dead-end paths
where the hill slopes were too steep for them to travel.

Then they reached the end of the line. The line of hills was
impassable to vehicles. The craggy incline had narrow trails zigzagging around
growing trees and brush. The little she knew about the steam-trekkerwas
enough to know it might be able to negotiate rough terrain and the occasional
mound of government boxes, but it wasn’t capable of sharp turns in tight
spaces.

“We’ll walk from here.” Sevrin stopped the vehicle.

“I figured that out for myself.”

“Oh?” He looked over at her with a questioning gaze. “If you
think the steam-trekker isn’t able to climb—”

“Not the climb, the obstacles.”

He stepped on the pedal that sent them forward again. The
vehicle rolled on. Sevrin steered it in the direction they needed to go—upward.
Small trees gave way to the track wheels shredding, bending and clambering over
them.

She glanced at Sevrin, a satisfied smirk plastered on his
face. Yet even after he proved the steam-trekker reliable, he pushed the pedal,
making them go faster. The steam-trekker bounced and rocked, tilted and tipped
far to one side.

“What are you doing?” she asked, grabbing hold of the door
and the panel in front of her to keep in her seat. “You’re going to—”

Rye sucked in a sharp gasp as the vehicle fell over onto its
side. Sevrin reached out an arm and tried to hold her in the seat, but he fell
from his own into her.

The machine didn’t stop. On the slope of a hill, the steam-trekkertoppled over onto its roof. It continued to tumble down the hill. Rye
landed with a hard thud on each turn. When Sevrin came down on her, he
straddled her body and wrapped his arms around her and the back of the seat. He
bound her there until the steam-trekker came to a sudden stop against a bigger
tree.

On her back with Sevrin on top of her was a familiar
position. This time pain instead of pleasure ran through her.

“Are you all right?” He pushed his weight up off her.

“Yes, I’m all right, damn it. Can’t you think of
anything
else to ask me?” She didn’t know why it bothered her so much every time he
asked if she was
all right
.

He lifted a brow in surprise. Then he crawled out her open
door.

“That was just great.” She followed him. “Now we have to
walk.”

“We were going to have to do that anyway.” He stretched his
arms over his head. “That vehicle didn’t have enough water fuel to take us much
farther.”

“You said it would take us as far as we needed to go.”

“And that was at the base of the hills. Neither of us
expected the steam-trekkerto go farther than that.”

“So, what now?” She surveyed the landscape, glancing up at
the sun.

“Toddas said to stay on the path northwest,” he answered,
looking around.

“How do we know we haven’t already missed it?”

“He said when we reached the hills, to follow them until
they turn directly to the south. From there we’re to head up and we’ll find a
plateau before the next rise.” He started up the incline. “At least the
conditions look right.”

He was right. Not all was barren. Not all was a flat layer
of rock and dust. Focal points of brush and twiggy trees gave a promise to find
more. When they reached the plateau, the greenery vanished. Wafting heat
blurred the distance. She trudged along, keeping up her spirits by daydreaming.

She imagined Sevrin at her place in the Taum Sauk Mountains,
living the tranquil life of leisure.

“What do you have there?” Sevrin asked from his resting
spot on the plush grass by the bank of the stream circling her cabin.

“Flowers?” She smiled, glancing back at Shay in the
garden.

Rye sat next to him and plucked petals of white from one
particular bloom. “Are you happy here with me?” She sprinkled the petals in the
gently flowing water.

“I don’t recall a time I was happier.” He leaned and
kissed her, touching her lips with his and then gliding his thumb across them.

She felt the same. Was it love? If only he’d say it
first.

“Rye—” He said her name and she thought she heard that
very sentiment in his voice.

“Rye?” Sevrin repeated.

She blinked a few times, clearing her thoughts to find
Sevrin in front of her, instead of in her fantasy world. He had her chin cupped
in his palm and his thumb swept her dry lips.

“I won’t ask how you’re doing but you have to stay hydrated,
especially out in the sun like this.” He offered her the flask.

She blindly took it, putting it to her parched lips.
Hallucinations, paranoia and irrational acts were all results of dehydration.
She knew that. The images she had of Sevrin and Iantha having sex, her
back-and-forth trust and distrust, what was next, attacking him with irrational
fear?

“More.” Sevrin put a hand beneath the flask and tipped it
up, forcing her to drink or let it spill out the corners of her mouth.

Was he concerned because he needed her alive? Hamner said
the scientists wanted live
lamians
. Sevrin’s brother was a scientist.
Low-life cretins like Hamner, Levor and the marauders simply took what they
wanted. It made sense that intelligent men like Sevrin employed deceptive means
such as friendship.

“Come on, Rye, drink,” he insisted.

Her suspicions elevated, she pushed the flask away. She
licked her lips, needing another drink, yet refusing to take it. Why help him
with whatever his plan was for her? She started walking, kicking the toe of her
boot at small rocks and making them tumble ahead.

“Rye?” Sevrin put a hand on her arm.

“I don’t want any more water.” She looked up and then
followed the direction of his gaze.

An oddly dense patch of tall green stalks with a cloud of
purple blooms almost floating over them lay ahead.

“Do you think that’s it?” She had no idea what growing
allium looked like, but Hamner had mentioned big balls of purple. Could it be
the deadly blood poison hid behind the deceptive beauty of flowers?

“I don’t know. Remember, I’ve never seen an allium field,”
Sevrin reminded her.

She vaguely recalled him saying he’d never seen it before.
That fact was inconsequential.

Rye sprinted for the field. She ran as fast as she could.
The leafy vegetation grew taller the closer she got, an illusion of the
distance shortening between her and the plants.

“Rye, stop,” Sevrin yelled.

She heard the thump of his boots against the hard ground
behind her. The pounding fell in sync with her heartbeat. She was quick,
determined and desperate for answers. Regardless, he caught her at the edge of
allium patch.

“Don’t touch the stuff.” He held her back. “It’s poisonous
to you.”

“But I have to look for her. I have to find Shay.” She
fought off his grip and dashed into the thick spiked stalks. Breaking the stems
meant the poisonous juices could touch her skin. The pungent aroma, both sweet
and acerbic, hit her. She ignored the scented warning. Nothing was going to
stop her.

Rye searched left and right with the turn of her head. She
raced forward through the large patch. The fluffy balls made up of tiny
lavender flowers swung away at eye level. She couldn’t help thinking if Shay
had died there she’d at least be surrounded by beauty.

Just as she stopped, Sevrin grabbed her again. A body lay
facedown, fully dressed in heavy garments, not what Shay had on when Rye last
saw her.

Over six cycles of the moon had passed. People changed
clothing. The possibly of it being Shay was real.

“Don’t touch anything,” Sevrin told her.

“It’s too late.” She held out her hands to show him the
streaks of allium juice on her skin.

Sevrin lifted up the edge of his shirt and wiped the liquid
away.

She didn’t bother telling him that her skin had already
partially absorbed the toxin.

Sevrin squatted and carefully began rolling over the corpse.

Rye closed her eyes in fear of seeing Shay. Then she opened
them knowing she had to know the truth. She had gone through a lot to learn her
sister’s fate.

Sevrin’s slowness irritated her.

Hurry
. She needed to see the face.

Hurry.
She wrung her hands anxiously.

Hurry
.

He shifted to get a better grip and his position blocked her
view. Then he leaned away as the body landed with a thud on its back.

“It’s not Shay.” She let out the breath she held and then
wheezed in another that made her lungs tighten. “It’s not my sister.”

Good news—this wasn’t Shay.

Bad news—she had to keep looking.

Rye slowly turned. Which way did she continue? The allium
seemed to go on forever in all directions. Impossible, since she stood on the
outskirts of the field. From her view it still seemed as if she and Sevrin had
been swallowed by a blood poison hell.

Rye wheezed in another short breath. She rubbed her arm,
feeling the prickling heat sear a course through her veins. Her temperature
climbed—a fever burning out the toxin.

Sevrin rose and took her hand, wiping it again. “You need to
get out of this field. Every step we take is breaking the stalks and getting
the poison on you.”

“Not yet.” She pulled free and walked ahead, ignoring the
effects of the lethal surroundings.

Ten paces away from the corpse lay another discarded poor
soul, this one a man. She kept going and found a dead male and female lying
side by side. Each step afterward made her sicker. The horrific site was unlike
anything she had ever seen. The allium-infused air she breathed added to her
nausea. Lightheaded, she fell forward as if caught off guard by the wind.
Sevrin’s arms suddenly surrounded her and she grasped hold of them for support.