CRYERS (6 page)

They walked across deep grooves in
the ground that ran for miles in every direction—some meandering and twisting,
others as straight as an arrow’s path.
Those
ones were really moving
, Cobe thought. Willem swiveled around on Dust’s
back, whistling. “There must have been hundreds of ‘em.”

“A dozen at the most,” Lawson said.
“Once they find nice open spots like this, they’ll tear it up for hours on end,
covering as much ground as they can in search of food. The less they find, the
more worked up they get. Ain’t nothin’ angrier and faster than a herd of
rollers with nothin’ to eat.”

Trot patted Dust’s mane. “Not
faster than Dust.”

Lawson shrugged. “Wouldn’t want to
put it to any kind of test.”

They crossed the roller trails,
creating their own dim set of tracks at a considerably lesser pace, until the
ground became rockier. The tracks ended and soon they were in hills again. Cobe
breathed easier, and he could see Willem’s form behind Trot had relaxed as
well. Lawson guided Dust around outcroppings of rock and through dead forest.
The horse could’ve picked its way without his help, Cobe was sure, but he had
already seen the silent bond between the man and animal. Dust had one eye;
Lawson was only trying to help it along on its bad side. It was plain to see
the two had traveled that way together for a long time.

The trees ended and they headed
down again. Cobe saw the river Lawson had mentioned earlier, dirty brown and twisting,
like a big, sick worm. They followed its muddy bank west for a mile when Trot
yelled out, “I thought you said rollers didn’t like water! There’s three of ‘em
up ahead!”

Lawson squinted to see them, his
face a leather map of cracked lines. “Quit yellin’. They’re people.” Cobe
noticed the lawman’s hand move instinctively over the handle of the heavy gun
strapped at his side. “It ain’t unheard of for people to move about from town
to town, just uncommon. Keep yer mouths shut and let me do the talking.”

Willem slipped off of Dust’s back
and went to walk with his brother. If things turned ugly and they had to run,
the boy didn’t want to be anywhere near the big horse.

It was a man and a woman. They
looked to be around the same age as Cobe’s parents. There was a girl with them.
Cobe guessed she wasn’t much older than he was. The man dropped a large pack
from his back into the mud. He pulled what looked like a long knife from the
inside and motioned the other two to stand behind him. They stood their ground.
The closer Lawson and Dust led them, the more detail Cobe could make out. The
man was a big, tough-looking bastard with a black beard that puffed out and
covered the upper third of his chest. And it was a
big
chest. He was nowhere near as tall as Lawson, but he probably
outweighed the lawman by fifty or sixty pounds. His arms were twice as thick as
Willem’s legs. The woman behind him was a skinny thing with thinning brown hair
pulled back into a knot that looked painful.

Proximity didn’t help the girl
much. If it wasn’t for the two bumps on her chest, Cobe might’ve changed his
mind and said it was a boy—a very ugly one. Her hair was the same color as her
mom’s—brown, dirty, and unkempt. It looked like a roller had taken a shit on
the top of her head.

“That’s far enough,” the bearded
man warned when they were twenty feet away. Cobe stifled a laugh; the long
knife turned out to be a stick, too short in length, and too dulled on the end
to even be considered a spear. “My family is just passing through to the next
town. Don’t want no trouble, but if you push me, I’ll push back.”

“We ain’t lookin’ for any,” Lawson
replied. “Not sure what yer expecting to find east of here. Burn’s run by crazy
folks, and I can’t say if Rudd is any better.”

“I have family in Rudd,” the man
said. “A sister.”

Lawson hitched a thumb back towards
Cobe and Willem. “Family’s nice. Them two are brothers.”

The three strangers eyed the boys
as if they were carrying something lethal. The mousy woman spoke next. “You
ain’t their father? Seems awful strange for two young ones to be traveling out
in the open lands without parents or such.”

“Our parents swung from a tree
branch until they was dead,” Willem said.

The man’s big hands tightened
around the stick. “What happened to yer arm, boy?”

Willem looked at the space on his
left side where everyone else he knew had a second arm. “Nothin’ happened to
it, you dumb shit. I never had more than the one.”

The man took a step forward, and
Lawson stood in front of the boys, his hand resting on the handle of his gun. “I
wouldn’t if I were you.”

Cobe punched his brother’s shoulder.
“Say you’re sorry.”

“Why the fu—”

Cobe punched him again. “Do it.”

Willem sneered at his brother and
apologized. “Sorry.”

“Say it like you mean it,” Lawson
swung around and smacked Willem across the top of his skull.

Cobe saw red. If he had taken a few
moments to realize Lawson was trying to diffuse the situation, he may have let
things pass. Instead, he kicked Lawson between the legs with all his strength.
The lawman crumpled to his knees and groaned.

The bearded man burst out laughing
and dropped his weapon to the ground. “I didn’t think my little stick would be
much good against that,” he pointed to Lawson’s gun, “but it looks like there
are more terrifying things out in these parts to worry over.”

Cobe backed away as Lawson got back
on his feet. The lawman grumbled in a weak voice. “So much for lettin’ me do
all the talking.”

“I’m Jakob,” the man offered. “This
is my wife, Anna, and our daughter, Angel.”

Angel. It was a word to describe
someone nice and beautiful, or so Cobe had been taught. He had no idea if the
girl hiding behind her father was nice, but he was more than sure she was no
beauty. Lawson’s face was still a grayish mask of discomfort. He held his hand
out and Jakob shook it. “Name’s Lawson. The one up on the horse is called Trot.
These two are Cobe and Willem. Willem’s the one with the filthy mouth; Cobe’s
the one with the temper.” He gave Cobe a look that said they weren’t
finished—not by a long shot.

Jakob nodded and scratched at his
beard. “Crazy folks in Burn? Can’t say it’s much better west of here.”

Cobe caught Angel staring at him as
the two men spoke. She smiled sheepishly, revealing buckteeth as big and long
as a pair of thumbs. The girl had no chin—only a stub covered with pimples. Her
eyes, devoid of much color, were set too far apart—the space between them
littered with more pinkish sores. She truly was the most hideous girl Cobe had
ever laid his eyes upon.

She stepped out from behind her
mother and held out a dirty fist. She opened it and showed Cobe a half-eaten
apple. “There’s a whole forest of ‘em growing wild about a mile back. I picked
all I could carry, and ate so much it made my gut sore. Go on, you can have it.”

She was still smiling. Cobe could
see the remains of green peel stuck to the front of one of her monstrous teeth.

“Ain’t hungry.”

The mother frowned at him. “My
Angel’s offering you the gift of food. Go on…eat it.”

“We just ate. I’m not hungry.”

Willem poked his brother in the
ribs. “That’s a gawdamn lie. We ain’t ate since yesterday. My brother’s just
being shy. He gets that way around pretty girls.”

Angel giggled. “Pretty. You think
I’m pretty?” she asked Cobe, not Willem.

Cobe cleared his throat. “Pretty
enough, I guess.” He suddenly wished Lawson’s hit had knocked his brother’s
head clean off his shoulders. He took the apple. It felt hot and sweaty from
being cupped in the girl’s dirty hand.

“Go on,” she chided, “take a bite.”

Cobe took a small nibble from the
other side—the side that hadn’t already been ravaged from those big teeth.
Angel’s mother beamed. She tugged at her husband’s arm, interrupting the talk
he was having with Lawson. “Jakob, the skinny boy took a bite from Angel’s
apple. Isn’t that just wonderful?”

The apple tasted sour—the texture
pulpy, like rotted wood. Cobe slipped the rest into the pocket of his pants. “I’ll
save the rest for later. Like I said, I ain’t all that hungry.”

Jakob was now smiling along with
his wife. “There’s an old story where we’re from that says when a man shares
fruit with a woman, they become one. Our Angel has been looking for a man for a
long time. It’s a good sign.”

Cobe could still feel the single
bite working its way down his throat, like something alive not willing to go
all the way. He had just turned sixteen and didn’t feel anywhere near being a
true man. And if being a man meant becoming one with the likes of Angel, he
figured he could wait a few more years yet.

Trot fidgeted on Dust’s back. “I’ve
been looking for a wife longer than Angel’s been alive. Can I have one of your
apples?”

Anna stared up at him, her hopeful
mood suddenly soured, like the half-eaten fruit in Cobe’s pocket. “Reckon we’ll
keep looking awhile longer. There’s bound to be someone for her in Rudd.
Besides, she’s still young.”

Cobe wanted to hug the
simple-minded man. Lawson spoke next. “Get down, Trot, and let the boys ride.”
Trot did as he was told and the brothers took his place. Lawson nodded at
Jakob. “Been good talkin’ to you. Hope you find work in Rudd.”

Jakob nodded and herded his family
east. Cobe glanced over his shoulder as they continued west. Angel was walking
backwards, smiling. She waved and Cobe turned away.

Lawson saw the exchange. “I
should’ve left you with them. Maybe marriage would’ve taught you some respect.”

Cobe didn’t say a word. They came
upon the apple trees awhile later. It was hardly the forest Angel had claimed.
There were four trees in all, struggling miserably to grow in a thatch of grass
already dead. The tallest was shorter than Willem and none of them had much to
offer in the way of sustenance. Lawson picked the largest fruit left hanging
and offered it to his horse. “I wouldn’t eat any of ‘em,” he said as Willem
started to harvest the remainders. “Dust here can digest just about anything,
but I suspect that girl’s innards are about to feel as ugly as her face looks in
a short time.”

Cobe dug the one out of his pocket
and held it out to Lawson. The lawman raised an eyebrow. “That a peace offering
for kicking me in the nuts?”

“It’s for your horse.”

“Feed it to him yerself.”

Cobe pinched the bit of black stem left
between his fingers and held it out at arm’s length. Dust’s big head swung in a
sideways arc and snatched it up. Cobe snapped his hand back and Willem laughed.
He turned on his brother. “If you had kept quiet back there, I never would’ve
kicked the lawman. One of these days that gawdamn mouth of yours is gonna get
us killed.”

Willem tossed his meager apple
pickings in front of the horse. “Said I was sorry.”

“No permanent harm was done,”
Lawson offered. “I’ve been kicked a lot harder there by Dust.”

Trot stroked the mane of black hair
on Dust’s neck. “Silly place for apple trees to be growing—out here in the
open.”

“Someone’s farm at one time,”
Lawson said. “Or a failed attempt at one.” He pointed to the slow-moving river
they had been following. “Not much is going to grow for long without rain and with
only that thing to feed on.”

Dust finished the apples and they
moved on. It was beginning to get dark when Cobe spotted a new range of hills
to the south. Lawson started that way and Dust followed. Trot was now walking
beside the lawman after surrendering his spot on the horse’s back, begrudgingly,
to the boys an hour before. “You sure we should be leaving the river? We might
get lost.”

“You have any idea where you are
now?” Lawson asked. Trot shook his head. “The river runs all the way to the
ocean. That’s at least another month’s worth of travel. We’ll get there
eventually, but first we have to make a stop for supplies.”

“What’s an ocean?”

“Big body of water.”

“Bigger than the river?”

“A little bigger, yeah.” Lawson
tipped his head at Trot’s pants bundled around his knees. Trot pulled them back
up and tightened the rope knot Cobe had taught him to tie earlier. “There’s a
town by the ocean where we’ll find passage on a boat. The boat will take us to
an island where the people are more tolerant.”

Trot gave him that questioning
look.

“Tolerant means more accepting. The
people won’t look at Willem’s missing arm and yer slow thinking as any kind o’
detriment.”

“What’s a boat?”

Lawson shook his head slowly and
kept walking. Cobe knew what a boat and an ocean were; he asked more about the
island.

“It’s called Victory,” the lawman
continued. “People established a community there hundreds of years ago because
it was safe.”

“What makes it any safer than all
the other places?” Willem asked.

“Howlers and rollers can’t travel
across water. And them folks too ignorant and afraid to try don’t bother neither.”

Cobe found it hard to believe such
a place existed. “How long will we stay there? Will the people let us live
there forever?”

“If you got smarts, and are willing
to learn more, I imagine they’d let you stay as long as you like.” He looked at
Trot. “Don’t worry—what you lack for brains can be made up in other ways.”

Cobe was still puzzled. Dust was
carrying enough water and dried meats to see them through another week. “Why
are we going to this Big Hole place first? What kind of supplies you looking
for?”

Lawson tapped the handle of his
sidearm. “I need ammunition, and more weapons. The three of you will have to
pay your way onto the island as well.”

“We ain’t got nothing to pay with,”
Willem said.

“You’ll find plenty when we get to
the Hole. The only way anyone’s allowed access to Victory is by presenting them
with a book. Don’t matter what book it is. They don’t care how big, or how
beaten up. So long as you give ‘em a book, you’re allowed through.”

“I only ever seen one book,” Willem
said in a quiet voice. “It was our Ma’s. There was pictures inside—awful
pictures of people with their skin torn off. Some pages showed ‘em with their
flesh torn clean off, and only their bones left.”

Lawson nodded. “I remember. It was
a doctorin’ book—the kind that fixes people when they’re sick or injured.”

“Didn’t like it none. I sometimes
thought Ma and Pa might have been bad folks, learning the ways of other bad
folks from a long time ago.”

Cobe poked his brother in the side.
“That’s what
I
told you when I found
you poking through their stuff. Pa would’ve beat you something awful if he’d
known you was snooping. Ma wouldn’t have been pleased either.”

Lawson chuckled. “I gave it to her
after she saved my life. I’d meant to take it to the island one day, but after
what she did for me…I figured her natural talents could make better use of it.”