I only realize I’ve fallen asleep when someone nudges my leg. It’s a reflex to grab their wrist and nearly hit them, but it’s just May in the driver’s seat, bags underneath her eyes and a very exhausted smile on her face. I blink and look around. We’ve stopped somewhere off the main road a long way past the checkpoint. Night in the Barrens is a scary thing. Pitch black landscape tinted by the cracked moon’s silvery light. Old windmills stand like skeletons in the desert, creaking and groaning in the silence, pumping water and electricity for people that aren’t alive anymore. My head hurts and I’ve come out of a nightmare. Blood, guts, a wolfish smile, over and over like a broken record.
Nothing I’ve seen before. Must be from the days, maybe week or so when I was bought recently.
I massage my face and look over my shoulder. Hark is silent in his body bag on the floor. Morgan is out cold, her head tilted back and mouth open as she snores. Runt’s head is resting on her lap, fingers moving as she plays some video game that’s got her biting her tongue in concentration. Juniper is fast asleep, curled up on the bench, no longer moaning about her tummy and instead mumbling. Astrid might be asleep, but I’m not sure. Never seen anyone fall asleep with their arms folded and eyes shut, back straight and jaw clenched. She doesn’t move. Not one bit. Sleeps like she’s ready for a fight. Her glowing white sword sits between her legs, pulsing repeatedly like it’s connected to her heartbeat. I wipe my mouth and look back at May, then gesture to ask her what was wrong.
Because I can’t see Vicky or Dallas anywhere in front of us. The strip of tarmac cutting through the Barrens is marked on a map sitting on the fuzzy dashboard, some place called Devil’s Skid. Long strip of highway that runs alongside a railway that was meant to be some kind of bullet train before the world went to hell. Streetlights appear here and there, but not often enough to stop most of it being drenched in darkness. On the bright side, there’s a tiny phone booth just a few feet away from the van, but on the bad side, it’s so cold my teeth are starting to chatter.
“I’m beat,” May says. “Been driving for hours. V and D saw raiders at the drilling station and she figured we should keep shootin’ for the motel instead. Should make it there by morning, but that’s four hours away.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say, unbuckling my belt and stretching. “Want me to grab the wheel?”
“If we fix the engine first, sure.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. “What’s wrong with it?”
She gestures at the slivers of smoke escaping through the gaps in the hood. “Overheating. When we got you from Platinum, old girl took a beating from some of his guys. I’ve patched up the bodywork, because that’s all I really had the time to do, but her guts were pretty badly torn up. Duct tape fixes a lot of things, but eventually…”
“I’m gonna be honest,” I say. “Tell me to kill a Leviathan and I’ll figure it out in about a day. Tell me to fix a car and I’m gonna be there all night figuring out why I’m holding the manual upside down. But”—I groan and stretch one more time, then open the door, and holy seven hells, it’s cold—“you’re cute, so I’ll help you out.”
Her cheeks redden a little as she steps outside as well. “Never took a bounty hunter for a flirt.”
“Live by your means, ‘cause one day you’re just dead,” I say, shutting the door. I shiver but try to stop myself from looking like a leaf in the wind. Nothing but silence for miles. I’ve still got the gun in my waistband, and before you ask, yes, I slept with it—screw you and your gun safety course. “My uncle said that, because my family doesn't have a great shelf life, you know. Gotta kiss who you can and make as much money as possible.”
“Sounds like a recipe for heartbreak and poverty,” she says, pulling a bandana out of her pocket.
I shrug. “If nobody comes for my funeral and I’m buried in some tupperware, then I owe you five bucks.”
“Make that a cold beer and some Orc ribs, and we’ve got a deal.”
I smile. “Looks like I’ve got to get rich either way, then, to afford that.”
May pops open the hood and I stand beside her. I do her a favor and hold a torch to the mess of very hot metal and the oils sputtering on surfaces that I think shouldn’t have oil on them in the first place. It looks like charred spaghetti and stinks like roadkill. She swears and massages her eyes. “Radiator’s been punched right through. See that?” I lean closer and nod, squinting to see a ripped mesh-looking thing halfway obliterated. “Glad I spent extra on getting a first-hand bulk plate to protect the engine. V said it was stupid, but look at me now.” She laughs, not bitterly, but just pretty exhausted—tired to the bone. “Should’ve upgraded the exterior, though, too.”
“You’re telling me this thing isn’t bulletproof?” I ask her.
“Oh, no, she is,” May says, using the bandana to wipe her face and then tie her hair back with it. “But being bulletproof doesn’t mean it stays bulletproof. I keep telling them I need time to get this thing fully fixed, but it’s one job after the other until we’re all dropping like flies, including Betsy over here.” She leans on the van and looks into the engine bay, eyes scanning, jaw getting more tense. “I figure I can do it, but it’s not gonna be pretty.”
The next second, and a piece of the engine gets shot right through the hood. We both flinch and duck, then look through the bolt-sized holes that've been made and the stars shining through it. The sounds coming from inside the engine aren’t any better, kinda like a blender that’s trying to chew up bits of metal. I look over at May.
“I think Betsy’s just called it quits,” she mutters. “Rest in peace, engine number five.” She crosses herself and gently punches the headlight, a thin smile on her face, almost like she really is sad that her van just died.
“How far away is Vicky?” I ask. “We should call this in.”
“No radio signal out here,” Astrid says, climbing out from the passenger side. No sword. No stretching. The girl looks as clean as we did when we first left Lu’s house. She stands with her arms folded, looking at the engine and then the hood. A moment later, and those shards of metal from the engine that got sent into lower earth orbit clatter onto the road and the van’s roof. “Hm. I don’t think this is a favorable situation for any of us in the slightest. May, if we manage to get you parts, spare, old, anything, do you think you can get her to run for a little while?”
“Would an Angel refuse a pint of tequila?” she mutters, leaning against Betsy.
“Guess it’s gonna be a night under the stars,” I say, looking up at the sky. It genuinely is stunning out here. We don’t get much of the sky anymore in New Salem. If you can pay for a few wind Sprites to clear it up for you, then you’re lucky enough to afford clean drinking water, too. This? This has my mouth slightly open. “Not bad.”
“Not happening,” Astrid says, taking the torch from me. “The chances of us getting caught by scavs or raiders or bands of roaming Monsters isn’t our fight to have. Little ammo, even smaller amounts of food. We’ve got several hours until dawn and we were scheduled to get to the motel at about midday with a working vehicle, and with one in its current state, that’ll be late afternoon if we start pushing right now, so we best get our legs moving.”
We both stare at her, because that’s got to be a really, really, really dry joke, right?
…right?
“You want us to haul these two tons worth of steel across the Barrens at night?” May asks her.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Astrid rolls up her sleeves. Her hair is already tied back, but trust me, she would’ve done that, too, if she had the chance. “The Barrens aren’t known for their hills, and V won’t want any excuses for why we’re so late.”
“I think she’s gonna have to understand, considering we don’t even have an engine,” I mutter.
“Or most of a tire,” May says. Astrid and I follow her voice around the van, near the back end where the left rear is slumped and flat. Astrid stares at it whilst May crouches low, gesturing for the torch as she sticks her head underneath the van, trying to find whatever it is that took out the tire. Personally? I can’t freaking believe it. Pretty ridiculous if you ask me. All a girl wanted was some money and some revenge, and now I get to change a tire in the freezing cold and push a van right through one of the most dangerous Wastes in the country! Amazing! Totally rad!
“Fuck’s going on?” Out through the driver’s side door comes Morgan, half-stumbling nearly face first into an overgrown bush the size of her. She’s barefoot and in very short jean shorts, short enough to see the pockets under their frayed ends and her choppy silver hair a mess. I tell her what’s going on, and she does what I think is best for us, and lights a cigarette, pulls on it, swears, and hands it to myself, who then hands it to May. Astrid, for once, doesn’t have much to say, and when I gesture for her to take it, she doesn’t say no, but doesn’t take it either.
“Verdict?” Astrid asks when May pushes herself out from underneath the van.
She dusts herself off and I grab her forearm, hauling her up. “Fucked.”
“Technical language would be more appreciated.”
May lists them off on her fingers, cigarette in her mouth and bandana now around her neck. “Exhaust fell off and I’ve got no clue when that happened. The tire’s carcass is shredded, which is weird, ‘cause I would’ve felt that when we either flipped over or shrieked to a halt, which we didn’t. Underside is smashed to bits, meaning the engine’s been pissing itself dry for the better part of several hours, ‘cause there’s nothing left in there. Most of what’s on me is engine oil and grease leaking from who knows where, and…” She shrugs and flaps her arms. “It’s like some Gremlin is sneakin’ around inside and taking it apart, y’know? It’s weird. Bad luck? No way. Not that.”
“Are you positive that you were driving it properly?” Astrid asks. “I remember the road being bad.”
“Was that before or after you fell asleep and enjoyed the rest of the ride?”
“You’ve got a history of not quite driving slow, May,” Astrid says, her voice nearly as cold as the wind that bites me so hard I wrap my arms around myself. “That’s why I suggested that you and I should be taking turns.”
“Nobody drives Betsy except me, ‘cause until you pick up a fuckin’ spanner and help, you can fuck off.”
“No reason to be hostile since it’s your handiwork that’s let us all down.”
“For your sake, Sid, I’m gonna pretend you ain’t just say that.”
“Good,” she says. “It’s better to have a cool head at times like this.”
“You’re an asshole,” I mutter. Before Astrid can say anything, I continue: “Look, we’re pretty screwed, and we can fight all we want, and I think there’s one person we should blame for all of this, and that’s only Astrid.”
“Excuse me?” she asks, eyebrows rising.
“You’re our leader, right? The one who kisses Vicky’s ass the most. You’re telling me that in all your ass-kissing, boot-licking greatness, that you didn’t once think that we wouldn’t be able to reach her at some point?”
“I…” She tenses her jaw and meets my eyes, then looks at May. “I didn’t expect something like this.”
I snort and say, “What a great leader you turned out to be.”
“Be quiet for a sec and smoke your cigarette,” Morgan says, sticking the tar into my mouth. “Hear that?”
We all strain to listen to absolutely nothing.
“That’s how amazing the world sounds when you don’t have three broads bitching in your ear about who fucked up when we’re all pretty darned fucked,” Morgan says. “Don’t know about you guys, but I grew up around people who got shit done, and right now, we need to get shit done. Isn’t there some kind of map inside the van? There’s gotta be a town somewhere around these parts, right? The drills didn’t shut down too long ago either. All those workers have got to live somewhere, and Magtroleum isn’t gonna rent out their highrises to bottom feeders.”
“Angel Beach,” I say, blowing out smoke. They all look at me. “Not my first time out here. There’s a place called Angel Beach. Old resort that never got finished when MageCo thought they were doing the world a favor and making an unholy abomination of a resort in the middle of nowhere, I guess because the executives wanted somewhere cushy to live when they were still hoping most of the Breaches wouldn’t dry up. It’s a shanty town now. Raiders. Monsters. Scavs. The lot of ‘em. Bad place, easy gas, iffy magical connection, but if you give a person what they want, they’re gonna give you what you need, and right now, we need a car to get out of here. Quickly.”
Astrid’s eyes narrow. “It almost sounds as if you’ve got someone waiting for us there.”
“If you think I’d sell you guys, you’re absolutely right,” I say, then laugh. “I’m kidding. Everyone is so amped up right now I might as well cool you guys off.” I nudge Astrid. She isn’t amused. Tough crowd. “But I don’t have anyone there that I know. Most of the people I did went East for something better or died trying to get richer. Just the name of the game, you know? Gonna have to look at the map and figure out if it’s close or not, though.”
“What if it’s not?” May asks me.
“Then I’ve got another option, but you’re not gonna like it.”
Astrid sighs quietly. “Let’s hear it.”
“We build a campfire and make Elf s’mores.” They all stare at me like I’m pretty stupid, but I think it’s as good of a time as any to stop with the jokes, because nobody here knows how to make a rough situation bearable. These guys wouldn’t last a minute in New Salem. Get bogged down in your own bullshit and you get distracted by the things trying to kill you, or the people trying to tax you for almost all you’re worth, and then you end up pretty dead, pretty quickly, so suck it up and square your shoulders, princess, that’s just life. Jane would’ve found that at least a little funny or would have humored me. Gods, I miss that beautiful talking head. “Think about it, alright? We ward off travelers and we take watch, rotating every other hour until it’s sunrise. Pushing this thing anywhere is stupid, because that just means you’re a wounded animal in a slaughterhouse full of things that would rather want to eat us, enslave us, or rape us. The Barrens don’t play games with you, so holding out until daytime is smarter.”
“You think we’d survive an entire night in a single location surrounded by Monsters?” Astrid asks.
“Oh, please,” I say, waving my hand through the air. “My mom’s done it plenty of times.”
“And where’s she now?” May asks. “Hopefully not in some tupperware.”
“Last I checked, down a well,” I say, and this time I’m not kidding. “But that’s beside the point. We make a fire and keep watch, two of us alert at a time, and then we tap out and swap over. The van is reinforced enough to hide in it if things get really bad. But all we’ve literally got to do is keep our heads together and just not die. Easy.”
“No,” Astrid says. “No, that’s not easy, it’s suicide. We need to make progress toward—”
“Stop suckling on Victoria’s tits and think for yourself. Fuck sake, are you stupid? Think for once.”
Her jaw tenses, but it’s bitterly cold outside, and a harsh breeze has just thrown dust into our mouths and eyes and dimmed the cigarette. We stare at one another, because she really is starting to annoy me. People who snap to attention without a single thought crossing their mind scare me, because give them a gun and tell them to kill the person standing in the mirror, and they’ll do it. I grew up being taught to question and to grab opportunities, to not take disrespect and to make sure your jaw is clenched and your fists are up. Mom would've hated Astrid, and I’ll be honest, a part of me really doesn’t want to lug this hump of steel across one of the most dangerous areas in New America just because someone said I should be at a motel in a few hours’ time, so you know what, dear diary?
Fuck that and fuck whatever else Astrid has to say, because I’m taking my chance tonight.
Kacey Summers is gonna sleep under the stars, because I haven’t seen them since I was six, and I haven’t smelt air this clean since I was twelve. Life might get bad sometimes, sure, but I’ve seen bad, and this isn’t that.
Take it from the chick who just took a bullet to the head.
