Cry For Tomorrow (3 page)

The engines rumbled and jets of air hissed from the shafts as the balance-legs retracted. The hovering phantoms swooped away from the frightening bursts of air as the bikers soared past my hiding place and down the street in a cloud of dust.

Keeping to the sides of the buildings, I did my best to stay in the shadows as I hurried to reach the end of the alley. I was about to make a dash across a small park when I became aware of a soft rustle and click of claws on the pavement behind me.

Freezing in my tracks, I slowly bent my knees until I could reach a short piece of wood lying at my feet. With one shoulder braced against the building wall for balance, I slowly turned my head to search the shadows behind me.

There!
A flash of color blinked into sight and disappeared into the pile of trash and broken cardboard boxes at the opposite side of the alley. Keeping my eyes locked on the spot and the piece of wood firmly gripped in my hands, I forced my stiff knees to carry me closer to the pile until a large piece of cardboard lying against the wall began quivering as if it were alive.

My heart was firmly lodged in my throat and I’d forgotten to breathe while I waited for whatever was hiding there to make the first move. When nothing happened, I finally forced my numb feet to take me closer. With the piece of wood still clutched in one hand, I used my foot to push the piece of water-warped cardboard aside.

A soft, frightened whine made me lower my stick as a large, peach-and-cream colored dog raised her head. Terrified, the dog crouched there, staring at me with one blue, one golden eye. Clearly, she was no danger.

“Oh, you poor thing,” I whispered as I dropped to a crouch and slowly offered my hand. Since the time of the Chemical Wars, dogs and cats were a rarity and highly prized, and very seldom was one found wandering alone in the streets.

After a moment the dog tentatively licked my hand, and her eyes brightened hopefully when I moved closer. In spite of the dog’s emaciated appearance, her coat still retained a healthy sheen, which told me that she had not been on her own for long.

“That’s a good girl,” I whispered softly as I reached a hand to her silken head. The dog sidled up to me and leaned against my leg, the long hair skirting her legs and tailless backside swayed happily.

I gently rubbed my hand across the dog’s head and around her neck, where I encountered a frayed collar. “Dusty,” I read from the collar. “Well, hello, Dusty,” I said when the dog responded to the familiar sound of her name by happily panting and wagging her backside. “Now how did a nice dog like you get lost in a terrible place like this?” Distracted by the dog, I was not aware of the new sounds approaching from the direction of the buildings adjoining the park until the dog stiffened, growling softly at something over her shoulder.

Without so much as turning my head, I wrapped my arms around the dog, rolled into the cover of a stack of moldering furniture leaning against the nearest wall, and waited.

“
Sshh, Dusty,”
I whispered as I put one hand over the dog’s muzzle to keep it quiet.
“We don’t want them to know we’re here.”
As if she understood the danger, the dog lay quiet at my side, her sharp eyes watching.

We didn’t have long to wait before the intruders appeared, flowing out of the shadows like living ghosts until a dozen or more of the people the bikers had referred to as
freaks
were wandering about in the small patch of green. I was aware of them, of course. They roamed the ruins of the inner city just like the dwellers I associated with. Like most, I did my best to avoid making any direct contact with these poor, mind-warped people so lost in their own internal world of pain and misery.

After the disaster, there had been changes in the children born to those of the survivors who had received the higher doses of radiation or chemical contact. Sometimes the mutations were obvious, like extra fingers and toes or a third eye, but more insidious were the changes within their minds. Many appeared normal until they reached puberty. That was when the affected child would begin to see things that weren’t there or hear
voices
and, unlike the schizophrenics known before the world had changed, these mind-damaged souls were often telekinetic as well, sometimes able to cause things to burst into flames or even fly through the air at the slightest provocation.

Unsure what to expect from this collection of lost souls and nervous about the large number of them, I flicked open the face of the modified watch I was wearing on my left wrist and fingered the
panic button
for a moment as I considered whether I was in any real danger.

In what was left of the dim sunset light, I continued to watch, fascinated as more of the freaks emerged from the shadows, their graceful movements almost a dance. As if to defy the darkness of their lives, each man, woman and child was dressed in brightly colored garments that flowed softly about their bodies. It wasn’t long before it became obvious that there must be some purpose to this gathering, for they each carried an offering of wood for the bonfire that had suddenly leaped to life in the center of the park.

Off to my right, there was a stirring in the darkness of the abandoned storefront and a larger group slid from the shadows, this time carrying an assortment of musical instruments and ushering a gaggle of bobbing children before them. Leaving the children to fend for themselves, the musicians gathered together in the shadow of the tall buildings, and as the sun set behind the dark silhouettes of the buildings around them, the notes of music began to rise.

The panic button completely forgotten, I listened, mesmerized, as what was just a confused medley of noise began to blend, becoming a melody that was at once so alien and yet so very familiar. No longer frightened, I pulled the dog to me and leaned back, listening and watching—always watching.

As the melody took form and became music worthy of dancers, those who did not hold an instrument began to move together, pairing off, man and woman, or beautifully slender man or woman to another of his or her kind. Each moving as if lovers in the dusky light, they began to dance ‘round the bonfire, spinning and twirling, touching and twining. Even the children held hands or danced alone, each as graceful as their elders.

Drawn by the strains of music, the inevitable phantoms arrived, flowing from the cracks between the boarded windows of the surrounding buildings or rising from the ground itself they slithered and glided between the dancers. As the music grew, weaving its spell and entrancing all, the dancers began to spin away from the fire, until only one trio remained, a man and woman wearing garments of some soft, flowing fabric that glowed in shades of deepest electric blue and a phantom of extreme grace and beauty with long sweeping fins and antennae, flashing in iridescent shades of pink and blue.

Swaying and spinning, they undulated against each other, spiraling away, each move so graceful it was as if they floated upon the wind. And, as if called from its slumber, the wind now rose, ruffling through the embers of the bonfire, carrying brightly colored sparks high upon its currents. Gently it caressed the dancers, drawing their soft garments against their bodies, exposing each line and curve. Their every move was matched by the tumbling currents of the wind ‘til their feet no longer touched the ground and they danced upon the air alone. Spinning gracefully, the dancers flowed, one against the other, until humans and solitary phantom became one entity, swaying in the embrace of the wind.

I thought surely that my heart would break when the music finally reached its crescendo and the gentle fingers of sound faded, slowly releasing the dancers until they lay upon the ground, clasped in each other’s arms as if they were lovers asleep.

There were soft murmurs of appreciation as the dancers rose and were surrounded by the others.

“Pretty good stuff, don’t ya’ think?”

The dog lunged, teeth snapping, even as I scrambled backwards to evade the intruder leaning toward us.

“Hey! Watch that beast, it nearly bit my nose off!” grumbled the scruffy young man as he ducked out of reach of the dog and the swing of the piece of wood clasped in my hands.

“
Jake!
Damn you, you scared me half to death,” I complained as I wrapped my hand in the dog’s collar and pulled her back. “It’s okay Dusty, he’s a friend—sort of.”

“Neat dog. Where’d you find it?” Jake whispered as he settled on the ground beside me. “First time you’ve seen the wind dancers? Pretty cool, huh?” he continued in his usual exuberant way. “By the way, whatever are you doing out in the streets so late?”

I just shook my head in amazement at my roommate’s chatter. Jake was a great guy, but he tended to be a little hard to take sometimes. “Family business,” I told him with a frown. “I had to rescue my little sister from
Dear ole Mom
.”

“Anything you want to talk about?” Jake queried in concern. He’d had to run from his own family years ago when his alcoholic father had tried to trade a telekinetic son for enough booze to keep him happily drunk until he died of sclerosis of the liver.

“Not right now. Kelly’s safe, and that’s all that matters.”

Jake nodded in understanding and we both returned our attention to the people still milling about in the park. The freaks were not especially dangerous; in fact you rarely even saw them during the day, for they lived in fear of the agents just as I and any of the other free-living psis did, maybe more. If the agents managed to lay hands on one of these poor, tortured souls, they were never seen or heard from again.

“Come on, let’s try slipping along the side of this building,” whispered Jake. “With a little bit of luck we can slide out of here and make it into the tombs without being noticed.”

Keeping one hand on the dog’s collar, I rose to a crouch and took a step to follow him. Dusty suddenly stiffened and jerked back against the grip on her collar. “What’s up girl?” I whispered as I tried to see what had frightened her. Her bright eyes were locked on something in the dark street beyond the gathering of freaks.

“Jake! Wait, something’s wrong!”
I hauled back on his shirt-tail to stop him.

“What—” Jake dropped back under the cover of a heap of old furniture where he could survey the area for the danger without being seen. Surviving in the streets meant paying attention to every possibility—even a warning from a stray dog.

“Over there,” I whispered and nudged him with my elbow, pointing at a swelling and shifting in the dark distance of the street.

We both strained to focus our eyes and ears, but before we were able to separate and identify the images moving toward us, the park and intersection were flooded with the harsh glare of a dozen spotlights, all aimed at the gathering. The night air was shattered by the harsh rumble and hiss of what could only be chopper engines.

The raw roar of the unfiltered engines spooked the phantoms still fluttering between the freaks and sent the humans scrambling for shelter. Unfortunately, only a few were able to reach the sanctuary of the dark buildings behind them before they were cut-off by the giant metal beasts erupting from the shadows all around them.

“Damn! The bikers must have been there all along, just waiting for their buddies to arrive,” swore Jake as we watched the hover-cycles screaming through the streets, circling the park.

To my surprise the freaks trapped out in the open did not panic or scatter and run off, shrieking in terror. They gathered together, back-to-back, so that at all times there was someone facing the antagonists and the remaining children were protected at the center.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” hissed Jake as he started moving in the direction of the sheltering shadows of the alleyway.

I nodded my head in reluctant agreement and was getting to my feet when I was driven to the ground, gasping in pain. Jake hit the pavement only seconds after me, his head clasped in his hands, moaning in pain.

“
Awww!
Damn!
Halie, close your mind,” Jake gasped as he dragged me under cover.

I was aware of Jake’s hands on me and I could hear his voice, I even knew what I needed to do, but for the moment all I could manage was huddling in the shadows with my arms wrapped around my head to keep it from exploding. It took almost more will power than I thought I had, but I finally forced my lungs to take several shuddering breaths and I shut my mind against the crushing pain. On some level, I was aware that this attack had not been aimed at us. It was the backlash of a blast of psi energy being directed at the bikers by the freaks. They had obviously resorted to using their most effective weapon in hopes of driving away the threat.

“I-I’m okay now,” I moaned. With my mental barriers in place I was able to block out most of the waves of telepathic energy emanating from the cluster of freaks trapped in the open. I slid closer to Jake so I could watch the confrontation between the bikers and freaks.

I was pleased to see that there was considerable confusion in the ranks of the bikers now. Some had lost control of their bikes and had tumbled to the ground, causing others to crash when they hit them. Others were walking or weaving their cycles erratically between those who had fallen, not sure what they should do next.

Warned by the whining of the dog crouched at my side, I slapped my hands to my ears, struggling to shut out an irritating high-frequency buzzing that was tearing at the barriers in my mind. “Damn! What
is
that sound? It’s got to be coming from some kind of electronic device.”

Fighting the waves of pain, I tried to focus my attention on the disoriented group of bikers, looking for the source until my attention was drawn by the deep rumble of a man’s voice rising above the sound of the engines, calling orders to the bikers. His arrival, and the steady rise in the frequency of the electronic emission, seemed to give the bikers the encouragement they needed.

As they regained control of their cycles, the bikers began to circle the cluster of freaks, chanting threats and obscenities to the blank-eyed men and women trapped between them. When one of their own would succumb to the telepathic attack, rolling his eyes up into his head and fall over, jerking spasmodically, they would just go around him, tightening their circle.