Orfeo (23 page)

The raft was a treacherous-looking thing constructed from planks of wood lashed to orange floats, and Ardyce gave it a dubious look as they sat on a window ledge staring down on it. Even Orfeo doubted how well it would hold up, particularly in the event of any further rains, but he hid his anxieties and carefully lowered himself down onto, reaching up toward Ardyce as he balanced on it precariously.

“Oh well,” she murmured at last, finally extending her arms toward him, a cap on her head to protect her from the blazing sun, “here goes nothing.”

He used another plank as an oar and pushed away from the building. The dirty brown water had already begun to recede a little, but Ardyce was astonished at just how devastating the hurricane had been in the city. As far as the eye could see a muddy lake extended between the buildings and, aside from a few birds that rose overhead, New Orleans was completely silent. This had always been a city of music as well as the other noises that came with such a large habitation: now it was deserted and empty.

Their progress was slow and for a long time they saw no-one, only battered houses and, as the ground rose in some places, cars submerged in the dank lagoon.

“How did it get so bad?” she asked at one point, utterly shocked at how much destruction had been wrought. Orfeo shrugged, unable to answer, and a little while later told her to look away as he punted a corpse away from their raft. She, however, stared piteously at the bloated body, its once dark skin now turning gray. The body was that of a man, as far as she could tell, though whether thirty or fifty she could not determine. She shuddered and placed a hand on Orfeo’s strong shoulder as he continued to paddle. At least she was alive and, more importantly, she was with him.

When they drew closer to the Superdome she looked up at it grimly. Much of the white membrane had been stripped from the building, and it was clear that it had taken a great deal of damage. Its position meant that at least some of the ground around it was lifted clear of the floodwaters and they were able at last to leave their dangerous raft behind.

“Do you think it’s safe?” she asked Orfeo, taking his hand as they waded through a few inches of muddy liquid. All around them cars and signs showed signs of the destructive power of the flood, and though some trees on the streets remained standing many more had been blown down by the violent winds.

“I don’t know,” Orfeo admitted, his own gaze fixed like hers on the tarnished dome ahead of them. “But we need to find food and water.”

They smelt it before they saw what was going on, a stench of filth that made Ardyce gag and turn away. “We can’t go in there.”

Orfeo’s face was grim, his grip on her hand tight. “Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s see if we can find what we need, then let’s try and get out of the city.”

As they entered her heart sank at the vision of a circle of hell that awaited them. The pitch was covered with garbage and hundreds—no, thousands—of people attempted to sleep or rest on the stands. There were a few officials doling out food and medical supplies, but pitifully few compared to the vast masses that were gathered together.

“Never have five loaves and two fishes been made to go so far,” Orfeo commented sadly, staring up at the despondent ranks of people around them.

Ardyce’s heart swelled up inside her. “So many,” she whispered. “I never thought there’d be so many. Why didn’t they leave?”

“Look at them,” Orfeo snarled, though not at her. “Old, black, poor. Who wants them? Maybe the good folk of New Orleans hoped they’d just be washed away.”

She had no response to the anger that she felt tensing his muscles, but instead followed quietly as he made his way toward an official. The man looked exhausted and she watched as Orfeo spoke to him calmly and considerately. They were directed toward a group of figures who were distributing supplies.

After collecting their meager ration, Ardyce looked at it in hers and Orfeo’s hands. “We won’t get very far on this, will we?” she observed. “What will we do?”

“I’m not sure,” Orfeo admitted. “Maybe the bridge is open to the north.”

“Or maybe we can get to Xanadu,” she replied, a little brighter. “The waters don’t look so bad in this part of the city—if we head out east we could walk there in maybe a day. Two at the most..”

He shook his head at this, not dismissing her idea but, she realized, because he too was as tired and weary as the figures around them. As he collapsed among the junk and litter on the floor, she knelt down behind him, unwilling to lift her head and look up at the despairing masses around them.

“Hey, you! Give me that!”

Orfeo’s face shot up, and his exhaustion was immediately replaced by a tense, wary readiness. Ardyce too looked in the direction of the noise, expecting to see Earl or one of his
loa
bearing down on them. Instead both of them saw three black youths, grubby and worn out but evidently still full of enough energy to impose their will as they saw fit.

“You and your white boy can hand that over now,” the man cried out, stopping about five feet away. Aware of his mistake, Ardyce dipped her head so that he wouldn’t be able to look at her face. Although not as tall as Orfeo, he still looked strong enough with his two companions to cause some damage.

“And what if I don’t?” she heard Orfeo ask quietly.

“Then we’ll take it, asshole!”

Before she could open her mouth to tell him to hand over their rations, she felt Orfeo stand and, unwittingly, looked up. Two of the men had come forward and were circling around him, perhaps not quite so eager to launch into a fight now they had a chance to witness him up close. As she glanced up, however, the third man stared straight back at her and she saw realization cross his face.

“That ain’t no guy!” he exclaimed. “It’s a woman!”

This changed things. One of the men near Orfeo came toward her, his hands moving immediately to her head. She scrabbled at his arms but he knocked them aside and pulled the cap from her head, causing her long hair to fall about her shoulders. Before he could do anything else, a powerful hand came down on his shoulder, spinning him around before Orfeo punched him across the face and made him stagger backwards.

There were shouts as the two other men closed in on Orfeo, striking out at him. One of them held a broken bottle and lunged for her lover who watched them carefully, easily dodging the clumsy lunge and looking for a chance to strike. He had told her before how he had run with gangs in his youth and often fought on the streets, and she could see from his
stance and careful poise that he would easily have outclassed any of these men on their own.

But they were three to one. With a yell, Ardyce jumped up determined to ease those odds in any way she could, but the third man grabbed hold of her wrist, pulling her backwards. She lashed out furiously with her feet and had the satisfaction of hearing him groan as her heel connected with his shin. In response, however, he punched her hard in the side of the head and she saw stars for a second.

Her own shout had distracted Orfeo, giving the opponent with the bottle an opportunity to slash him across the arm. For a few seconds, panic flared in Orfeo’s eyes as he tried to decide which figure to go for, then he turned with a sudden, lithe grace and head butted his assailant, forcing the man to fall back.

As he did so, Ardyce bit down as hard as she could on her own attacker’s arm, breaking the skin so that her mouth was filled with the metallic taste of blood. The man screamed and cursed, but his hold loosened enough for Ardyce to struggle free.

She turned to face him, looking for any way to hurt him once more, when she noticed his expressions frozen in a look of shock and fear. Spinning around herself, she gave out a gasp as she saw the gigantic figure running toward them, crying out Orfeo’s name at the last minute.

It was too late, however. One of the assailants, seeing Horse bearing down on them, had begun to run immediately but the other was still trying to land a blow on Orfeo. Horse grabbed the man and shoved him brutally to one side and then, before Orfeo could recover, he took the singer in his huge hands and lifted him from the floor. He opened his mouth in a silent, macabre laugh, displaying the ruined remnants of his tongue, then flashed his head forward, smashing it into Orfeo’s so that his victim slumped to the floor, barely conscious.

Ardyce’s own assailant had fled at this new horror, and she trembled herself, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she was trapped by desires to flee and to help her lover.

Horse slowly advanced toward her, one hand outstretched as Orfeo lay groaning on the ground. Before he could touch her, however, her resolve stiffened and her green eyes flashed with a terrible determination.

“It’s no use, Horse,” she said, quietly but firmly. Her body was still shaking, but she managed to squeeze the fear from her voice. “This won’t help.”

Horse frowned but at least he paused, lowering his hand and allowing her to take one step away from him.

“I’m not going back,” she told him. “It doesn’t matter, what you do. I’m not going back.”

He gave a low laugh at this, a weird hissing sound as the stump of his tongue was briefly visible in his mouth. Behind him, Orfeo was beginning to stand up but, without even
looking backwards, Horse kicked out and connected with the young man’s chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. Ardyce’s heart ached when she saw this but she returned her eyes immediately to Horse’s face.

“You know that Orfeo won’t let you take me—he’ll do everything he can to stop you. But if you kill him, then I’m dead too. Don’t think I’m lying. I was dying in Hades, but this time I’ll make sure I finish it.” Her face twisted into a snarling mask. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Uncertainty flashed in Horse’s eyes and Ardyce continued, coming one step closer. “You won’t get to take me back to Earl alive. What’ll he do to you when you deliver a corpse? Don’t think you can stop me. I know Earl wants Orfeo dead, but if that’s so then he won’t have me.” Suddenly, strangely, tears began to pour down her cheeks and the huge man stared down at her in confusion. “You didn’t have to do it,” she said more quietly now, her voice trembling. “You didn’t have to kill Baptiste.”

At this, his mouth opened as though to speak, the ruin at its center shifting wordlessly and a pained expression crossed his face. She was standing almost against him now. Had he wanted, the giant would have been able to lift her up with one hand, but he stood completely still, his head bowed. Behind Horse she could see Orfeo on his feet again, an expression of determination on his dark features. Glancing at him quickly, warning him to remain where he was, she wiped away some of her tears and looked back to the
loa
. She gestured around them.

“It’s over. Can’t you see? It’s finished. The world ended with that hurricane. Everything we knew
ended
. I heard it, Horse. I heard the hurricane speaking to me. It talked to me, in my blood, in my bones. It spoke to me and it wasn’t like anything I’ve ever heard before. You can’t hear something like that and go back to things as they were before.
I’m
not going back!”

Her face was glowing with a passion that shone fiercely in her eyes, her cheeks flush with anger and exhilaration. Her voice had been steadily rising as she spoke until, with her last sentence, she had almost shouted at the man standing before her.

For a long period, Horse simply stared back at her. His eyes were dark and deep, and for a time she wondered if he was preparing to kill Orfeo in any case, perhaps knock her out so that he could return with her to Earl. Instead, however, and to her utter surprise, he nodded. Glancing down at Orfeo behind him, who was staring at the pair of them in amazement, he simply shrugged.

His gazed fixed her for a time and he moved his hands in strange, complicated gestures. Briefly, Ardyce wondered what he was doing then it hit her with a sudden flash: he was trying to communicate with her. She frowned slightly, apprehensive at the thought of what he was trying to say.

“It’s no good,” she said. “I don’t understand.”

Horse nodded slowly, then he put his hands together and fluttered them briefly as they rose up in front of his chest, like the wings of a bird—or a moth.

She looked up at him, saying nothing. Her eyes, however, were full of comprehension now and at last Horse began to walk away.

He did not look back as he strode toward the entrance, and for minutes
neither of them could move nor speak as they watched him leave the Superdome.

“What happened there?” Orfeo asked as they left the dome behind them. They had not waited long after Horse’s departure, but already the gigantic
loa
was nowhere to be seen. Despite the fatigue that affected them both, they knew they had to move on.

She shook her head, wiping away another tear. Although she was far from sobbing, she could not prevent her eyes watering up still. “I’m not sure.” She shook her head and gave a pathetic smile. “Perhaps I just had to tell the truth.”

Orfeo looked skeptical at this but held his tongue. Instead, he came closer to her and gently bent his head to kiss away her tears.

“I know you miss him,” he murmured, “and I have to take the blame. Baptiste tried to talk me out of it and he was right... He...” Orfeo could not stare in her face as she looked up at him but instead turned his head away. “He came because he was worried about you, you know.”