Origins twc-2 Read online

  Only Samuel remained awake.

  “Get some sleep, Alex.”

  “What about you?”

  “Don’t worry. I’m fine.” He paused. “What a day, huh?”

  I didn’t answer, though. My stomach full, the events of the day had caught up with me. I fell right asleep.

  Chapter 10

  We had been traveling east for an hour when we noticed a cloud of dust following us.

  “It’s not a dust storm,” Makara said. “It’s something else.”

  Anna gazed out the window. “Something’s moving inside of it.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Just give it a moment,” she said. “It’s coming closer.”

  A sound soon accompanied the dust — the roar of engines. Within the dust cloud were about a dozen gleaming vehicles moving across the desert flatland. They were too small to be cars.

  “Motorcycles,” Anna said.

  “Great,” Makara said. “Whose turn is it to man the turret this time?”

  “They might be friendlies,” Anna said.

  “They might not,” Samuel said. “But whoever’s on the turret will be exposed. I won’t take that chance.”

  “What should I do, stop?” Makara asked. “They’re faster than us.”

  “Is there a good position nearby?”

  “No,” Makara said, with a sigh. “It’s all flat out here. There’s some dunes farther east, but we won’t make it in time.”

  “Just stop. And be ready. Let’s see what they want.”

  Makara slowed the Recon. It took a couple minutes for the bikers to catch up, the roar of their engines growing louder as they neared. They encircled the Recon.

  Finally, their engines were cut. No one moved. One of the men motioned us to come out.

  “Stay here,” Samuel said. “I’m going out to meet them.”

  “Sam,” Makara said. “I won’t let you go alone.”

  “You’re needed to drive in case things go wrong. No need to risk more than one life. If it’s alright, you guys can join me.”

  Before anyone could protest further, Samuel stepped outside. His form was lost in the dust the bikes had kicked up. I didn’t know if he was brave or stupid.

  “Stubborn,” Lisa said.

  Slowly, the fine dust settled back into the land, revealing Samuel talking to a bearded, tattooed man astride a black chopper. All the bikes were remnants of the Old World, and these had seen more miles than they were designed for. They were dusty, beaten, and definitely looked the worse for wear. Still, any sort of bike was a prized possession.

  Samuel turned, signaling us to come out. I exited the Recon and stood beside Samuel. The biker leader, whom Samuel faced, had a long red beard that came down to his chest, and a pockmarked, weathered face. His sunglasses were so dark that I was surprised he could even see out of them.

  Makara, Lisa, and Anna stepped out to join us. Makara kept her hand on her handgun and Anna looked ready to draw her katana.

  “Don’t,” the man said. “That would be very foolish.”

  Slowly, Makara and Anna took their hands from their weapons.

  “I am Samuel. This is Makara, Alex, Lisa, and Anna. We need to travel across this land.”

  “Anyone who wishes to cross the Boundless must speak to us first.”

  “Was it your men who attacked us in the canyon?”

  The man shook his head. “No. There are those who dwell in the Boundless that attack anyone on sight. We are not savages.” The man paused. “You have told me you need to travel through our lands, but not why. There is nothing in the east but the Great Blight. Your course will take you there within two days. What then?”

  “We mean to head east,” Samuel said. “Across the Great Blight.”

  The man gave a bitter laugh. “You are fools. Even before you reach the border, you will meet the crawlers.”

  “It is our mission,” Samuel said.

  “And what mission is this, might I ask?”

  There was nothing for Samuel to do but tell the truth. “I’m sure you have noticed the infestations plaguing the land, among which the Great Blight is the largest. We mean to stop them.”

  The man’s brows knit together as he leaned forward. “Really. And how would crossing the Great Blight, a span of a thousand miles, achieve this aim?”

  Samuel explained what the xenovirus was and how it worked. He said that we were all scientists (more than a slight exaggeration) trying to discover a way to stop it, and that we thought Bunker One contained information that might help us. The man listened the entire time, not saying a word, his expression switching from incredulity to curiosity.

  When Samuel was done, the man nodded slowly. “You certainly don’t look like Raiders.” He looked at the women. “These three do. They have their dress.”

  “I am their security and guide,” Anna said. “Along with Lisa here. Char of Raider Bluff sanctioned this mission.”

  “Char,” the man said, with a low, threatening growl.

  “You know him?” Makara asked.

  “Yes,” the man said. “What has become of him?”

  “He has his plate full, that is for sure,” Samuel said. “There will be war with the Empire soon.”

  The man gave a soft, grim laugh. “I hope my brother can survive their onslaught.”

  My eyes widened in surprise. At first I was skeptical — but I saw that the man and Char were around the same age and shared many of the same features — broad chin, dimples, a solid frame.

  “Char has never mentioned having a brother,” Makara said.

  “That does not surprise me,” the man said. “I am Marcus, and we are the Exiles. Twelve years ago, we split from the Raiders over a disagreement. We were the loser of that controversy, so we were exiled to the Boundless. We were much greater in number, once. Now we are only thirty-two. I am surprised we are that many. This is a harsh land, and there is no mercy for the weak.”

  “What was the disagreement about?” Samuel asked.

  “It was long ago, but it changed Raider Bluff forever, into what it is today. Twelve years ago the Raiders blew up Hoover Dam, causing a flood. It wiped out many settlements along the river.”

  “Why did they do that?” I asked.

  “There was a rival city of Raider Bluff, across the water on the Colorado’s western shore,” Marcus said. “It was called Rivertown. The Raiders believed blowing up the dam was the easiest way to destroy them. What they didn’t foresee, however, was just how much death there would be. Char was young at the time, and brash. He was for the plan, and was chosen to lead the group that destroyed the dam. I fought with him to keep him from going. We fought, and in my rage, I threw him into the fireplace. He landed face first.”

  No one said anything in the silence that followed. Char had received his burn from his own brother, no less.

  “It is no wonder that we are out here,” Marcus went on. “I was exiled. But I did not go alone. Fifty Raiders followed me into the desert. It was our intent to cross the country and begin a new city. We wanted to settle on the Mississippi, far to the east.

  “We never made it that far. We were attacked by crawlers halfway there. Many died in the attack, and there was nothing we could do but turn back. We tried to cross, once more, years later, but the Blights barred our path. In the north, we were locked in by cold and snow; in the south, by the Empire, who promised us passage in exchange for military service.” Marcus shook his head. “They did not keep their word.”

  “Raider Bluff is different,” Makara said.

  “I swore a time would come in which they would need us. And I still believe that. I am too proud to return. We are the Exiles.” Marcus paused. “Raider Bluff will lose against the Empire. Anyone who stands against them will fall. Their army numbers in the thousands. They already control much of Mexico, and are extending their way north.”

  “Where did they come from?” Makara asked.

  “When Ragnarok fell, the world became
colder, as you know. The people went south. Mexican, American, it didn’t matter anymore. What few survived banded together. The climate changes were kinder to Mexico than the United States. The land there is temperate, good for crops, and there are still many untapped resources and plenty of water. It is not like here. For the decade after Meteor, hundreds of city-states flourished, on the coasts, on the rivers, in the forests. They warred and fought, their wealth fueled by slavery, guns, and bullets. When one city lost, they became the thrall of another.

  “But then the Empire came, based in the city of Nova Roma. It was once a collection of huts on a series of hills, like the Rome of old. Perhaps by borrowing their name, they hoped to capture some of the magic. But their people were strong, and they subjugated their neighbors, led by a man calling himself Augustus. Instead of enslaving their neighbors, they annexed them, upsetting the normal balance. More people flocked to the Empire as they gained wealth and power. The Empire offered safety, comfort, law in a land of lawlessness. Soon, half of Mexico was theirs, and any who challenged them faced slavery, or worse.

  “And now, with most of former Mexico in their sure grip, they are turning their eye north.”

  “Why?” Samuel asked, intent on Marcus’s answer.

  “Do you not know? They seek the Bunkers.”

  “The Bunkers?” I asked. “Why would they want them?”

  “The Empire is very interested in any technology they can acquire. And not just technology, but information. There are weapons, vehicles, fuel, supplies, medicines, all of which can simply no longer be made. And it’s all for the taking, whether or not covered by Blights. They’ve already raided the Bunkers close to home, but their main prize is Bunker One…and if it weren’t for the hostility of the environment, they would have raided it long ago.”

  “How do you know all this?” Makara asked.

  “Like I said, we Exiles wander where we please,” Marcus said. “We have on occasion hired ourselves out as mercenaries. We keep our ears open, wherever we travel.”

  The Empire’s wanting to find Bunker One put them in direct competition with us. Did they know about the Black Files? If they did, would they want to keep them? My gut intuition said almost certainly.

  “So you really think Raider Bluff will lose?” I asked.

  It was hard to imagine that city falling to anything. They had all those people, plus those walls on top of the bluff. A giant army would be needed to crush that.

  “Raider Bluff is only a few thousand,” Marcus said. “The Empire is many thousands. Their lands are still green and warm. They call this the Wasteland for a reason. They see you as barbarians.”

  Here I was, thinking that the entire world was a desert. Just hearing that there were trees growing somewhere made me want to check this Empire place out. I still had a hundred questions — after all, how often was it that you met someone who had traveled outside the Wasteland?

  “So — we can pass your lands in peace?” Samuel asked.

  Marcus nodded. “I would normally exact tribute, but I believe in the importance of your mission. The Blights have not yet touched the Empire, but they will one day, soon. Maybe the time of the Raiders is over, but at least others might be saved for a future age.”

  “Hopefully, everyone can be saved,” Samuel said. “But only if we make it.”

  “The Great Blight is dangerous,” Marcus said. “You will travel upward into the mountains to the east, past the ruins of Flagstaff. It will only be another hundred miles to the border. You will not be attacked by us or anyone else on the way there. But once you cross that line, no one can help you. There are only the countless monsters that call that land their home. Crawlers will be the least of your worries.”

  “We fought one of them, yesterday,” I said. “It was a giant.”

  Marcus nodded. “Yes, you speak of the Behemoth. Nasty, those. All you can hope is that you are faster, or have a weapon powerful enough to pierce their skin. They make their home in the mountains and canyons of the Boundless. Even here, Blights crop up seemingly overnight. We burn them where we can. It’s possible to kill them if you get them early enough. But there is little we can do but run and find somewhere untainted.” He looked hard at Samuel. “We must be off soon, but before I go, a warning: don’t think that Bunker One isn’t on the top of the Novans’ list. I’m telling you this, so that you are not surprised if they beat you there.”

  Marcus started his engine. The rest of the Exiles followed suit, sending a roar across the desert.

  Marcus gave a salute before wheeling around, hitting full throttle as he blazed into the desert. The rest of the bikers followed him, spewing a cloud of both dust and exhaust that left us hacking and coughing.

  When it was finally quiet, Lisa spoke. “At least we’re still alive.”

  “Yeah,” Makara said. “Smooth talking there, Samuel.”

  Samuel didn’t respond. “He gave me much to worry about, I think. This Empire worries me greatly. I thought it was only the winter snow and crawlers we were contending against. Human opponents are much more dangerous.”

  “One day at a time, brother,” Makara said. “One mission at a time.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” He turned away from the train of bikers, for the Recon. “It’s time to get moving.”

  * * *

  That night we camped north of the ruins of Flagstaff. We went off the road a fair distance to avoid the town, since we didn’t know what might be waiting there.

  We found the perfect hideout — a shallow cave inside one of the rocky hills below the base of a tall mountain, the cap of which was lost in red cloud.

  The landscape had changed greatly with elevation. Besides the drastic temperature drop (the thermometer in the Recon read -12º Celsius), I saw my first trees — at least, the first trees that hadn’t been turned by the xenovirus. They were pines, mostly, and most had been long dead. What few were left alive had the barest tufts of green needles on their branches, indicating that soon they would be joining the rest.

  After we stopped, we collected a lot of dead wood for a fire. Once we had the fire roaring, the natural warmth felt good, and the sticky pine aroma was pleasing in the air. It was nice to smell something natural for once, and not the emptiness of the mostly dead world.

  Though the fire was warm, the night outside was bitterly cold. Anna cooked the evening meal — the same stew we had eaten last night, with the veggies and potatoes taken from Raider Bluff.

  After she gave the stew another stir and covered it, she came to sit next to me.

  “You alright?” I asked.

  “I think so. Saving the world…exhausting business.”

  “What’s your story, anyway?”

  She didn’t answer for a moment. “My story?”

  “Yeah. Everyone has one, right?”

  It seemed as if she didn’t want to talk about it. And if her story was anything like mine, that was understandable.

  Eventually, she did start talking. “I grew up in a settlement east of L.A., in the mountains. It was called Last Town. The man who founded it truly believed it was the Last Town. Even when he found out it wasn’t, the name stuck.”

  “How big was it?”

  She shook her head. “Not big at all. Last Town had maybe three hundred people. Not like some of the other settlements. It was located on I-10, between L.A. and the Mojave. The city survived off trade for the most part. Me…I was just a kid there. My parents were scavengers, mostly. They went around and found useful items in the Old World ruins, like batts, machines, weapons, and metals, and tried to sell them. As the years wore on, business got worse and worse. All the valuable items had been snatched up. When supplies started getting low, people formed groups to fend for themselves. That’s how the first Raiders came about. All the little towns, like Last Town, didn’t stand a chance. We were taken over. Like locusts, the Raiders stayed until they sucked the place dry, and then moved on. By the time we rebuilt, they would come back.”

 
I didn’t say anything. Despite the distance in her voice, I saw pain in her green eyes.

  She went on. “I was twelve when the big attack came. Only this time, they weren’t Raiders. It was one of the L.A. gangs. They called themselves the Black Reapers.”

  “I’ve heard of them before,” I said. “Makara was a Lost Angel.”

  Anna smiled. “I did not know that. It was the Angels that kept us safe, for the most part. But the Reapers were more numerous. It was at the height of the Five Years’ War that they took over Last Town. It was a key spot, because of where it sat on I-10 through the mountains. Rather than be taken, my mother and I fled east into the Wasteland, my dad having died in the battle. The only other choice was slavery. Being a slave of the Reapers is said to be worse than death.

  “We wandered for countless nights, taking food where we could get it, and shelter where we could find it. Even in those days, the settlements would let hardly anyone in. We wandered north and south, east and west, until I knew the Wasteland like the palm of my hand.

  “My mother was very learned, and she enjoyed reading. Books became an escape from our harsh reality.”

  “What kind of books did you like?”

  Anna smiled. “I have not read in a long time, but I liked fantastical stories, since they did not even take place on Earth most of the time. Of course, anything to do with swords, or the samurai, I read cover to cover many times.”

  “Where did you find that katana?” I asked.

  “I found it in a home, one day. The place had been picked over already by someone else, but strangely that weapon had been left behind. I took it and it became part of me the moment I touched it. I had already read about Hideyoshi. I also found a book about swordplay. I guess whoever lived there collected swords as a hobby — there were slots on the wall designed to display blades, but the katana was the only one left behind.