Wasteland Blues (19 page)

“That’s not true,” said Samuel. “It’s easy to read thoughts if you project them to me, like you did with the numbers. The doctors said it was like someone throwing me a ball—I can just catch the thought. Then there’s the other way. I can go into your mind, like going into a house. And you’d feel that.”

“What…what’s it feel like?” asked Leggy.

Samuel peered up at him. Leggy felt a hot point on the inside of his skull, and a strange dizzying sensation, as if he’d been swept up by a wind high into the air and then dropped. He wobbled a bit, and then the heat and the vertigo vanished. Suddenly his stomach took a flip—he turned and vomited on the side of the road.

“He’s right,” said Leggy, gasping and wiping his mouth. “It’s awful.”

They trudged for a time in silence, before Derek finally spoke. “I still don’t like it. This is mutie behavior. It makes me nervous.”

“I don’t see that we’ve got much choice,” said Leggy.

“Sure we do,” said Derek. “We can send him packing.”

“What, out here?” asked John.

“That’d be murder,” said Magdalena.

“Maybe not,” said Derek. “He’s a resourceful little shit. He can read minds.” To Samuel, he said, “You could make it back to your bunker, I’ll wager.”

Samuel looked scared. “Please,” he said, his voice tight with fear. “Don’t leave me. I promise I’ll be good. I promise I’ll never go into your minds. Please.”

Derek looked around at the others. He sucked his teeth and then spit into the dirt. “You just stay away from me, kid. Stay out of my way. Stay out of my head. And if I catch you playin’ any mutie tricks….” He fingered his knife.

Samuel, clearly terrified, nodded his agreement and tried his best to disappear behind Teddy’s enormous calf.

***

They moved on, continuing to use Afha to gauge the perimeter of the bugs’ domain. The group was back on the blacktop by nightfall. They walked until the moon was riding high in the clear night and then made camp. There was little talk, and, after eating, they rolled into their blankets and closed their eyes.

Samuel, who had curled up with Sheba, gazed at the stars. He hadn’t told them about the
third
way of reading thoughts—how easy it was to probe deeply into a mind when the person slept, how they would be completely unaware of it happening. He had probed all of them over the past couple of nights, peering deeply into their psyches. He knew it was a bad thing. Karen had warned him against it, but he had to. They were strangers, and he had to protect himself. And he was curious.

All of them had scars and wounds in their psyches, and bad things in their minds, bad things they’d done that they didn’t want anyone to know. So Samuel would keep their secrets. He was good at keeping secrets.

But Derek—he was different. His psyche wasn’t just scarred, it was twisted. He was the dangerous one. His threat with the knife had been real. Samuel vowed to go quietly around him, like a mouse around a cat. But if Derek ever threatened him again, Samuel would protect himself. He’d burst Derek’s brain like a rotten grapefruit.

Chapter Twenty-Four

In the morning they woke to a desert bloom. Sage and gorse brush, invigorated by the rains of the previous day, opened shoots of green and gold. Cactus flowers perched among the spines in full blossom, pink and bold in the morning sun. Wildflowers, hidden beneath the hard ground, emerged and unfolded in a dazzling carpet of yellows and reds and oranges. It was as if a magician had passed in the night, transforming the dry wastes into a desert garden.

“Beautiful, ain’t it?” said Leggy. “Worth a little wettin’, I’d say. It’s a shame you can’t see it, Missy.”

John plucked a cactus flower and stroked Magdalena’s cheek with it. She took the bloom in her hand and inhaled its fragrance.

“It’s amazing to think that anything could live here,” she said.

“We’re livin’ here,” said Derek. “And I expect if we want to keep livin’ we should hit the road.”

After a quick meal they broke camp and continued east, following the highway. They had gone less than a mile when Teddy poked his brother.

“Look, Der-Der. Somethin’ shiny up ahead.”

Derek, who’d been watching his feet, his mind lost in thought, looked toward the horizon. Teddy was right. The sun glinted off something, sending up shards of light like a beacon. They were too far away to make out what it could be, or how big. Derek took out his spyglass and peered through it, but the land ahead dipped into a slight valley, hiding whatever was catching the sun.

“You see what it is?” asked Leggy.

“Nope,” said Derek. “I expect we’ll run into it soon enough, though.”

Derek glanced at Afha. The donkey was calm. Derek didn’t believe that the beast could sense bugs, or trouble, or anything besides a patch of sage grass—the creature hadn’t sensed the mutie in the basement, and had given no warning of the menace of Youslus; but nevertheless, he felt reassured by the beast’s calm.

So they plodded on, and waited to see what the road would bring them.

***

It was a house made almost entirely of glass—magnificent silver beams held the panes together. The sun reflected off the crystal, throwing rays in all directions, obscuring the house and preventing anyone from looking directly at it.

“Why dat house made of glass, Der?” Teddy chewed nervously on his lower lip. For someone who’d spent his life fighting a desperate, daily war against weather and radiation, mutants and marauders, a glass house seemed an idea of utter madness.

“It’s a greenhouse, I’d guess,” Leggy said.

Teddy looked more confused than ever.

The house wasn’t green, not by a long shot—the reflected beams of light were blinding hues of yellow and orange.

“I’ll bet they….” but Leggy didn’t finish his thought. He didn’t want to set the group up for disappointment if his daydreams of homegrown vegetables and hydroponic herbs proved wrong. He just shook his head. “Let’s go.”

For a moment all stood in silence, contemplating the strange sight. But when no one could offer a reason not to trek down off the broken highway and over to the glass house, they began the rugged hike in silence. Even Samuel, who was prone to humming, was unusually quiet.

They eased their way down a shattered exit ramp onto the desert floor. Just before they reached the end of the ramp Derek removed his spyglass and lifted it to his eye.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Leggy said. “You gonna blind yourself looking at through that thing.”

“I’m not stupid,” Derek chided, “I’m not gonna look
at
it. I’m looking
around
it. Make sure no one’s out there waiting to ambush us.”

Leggy sighed. The kid was right. If the greenhouse was functional, there would no doubt be measures to protect it.
Damn
, Leggy thought,
a greenhouse in the desert. Would miracles never cease?

“Well, I don’t see no one,” Derek said after a moment. “Maybe it’s abandoned.”

The band of travelers continued in silence, picking their way through the desert scrap and scrub. The bloom that had followed the morning’s rain had been brief, and had long since retreated back into the hard-baked earth and shriveled stalks and stems.

***

They cautiously approached what they assumed to be the front of the house—the side facing the highway.

As they drew closer, the sun’s reflected rays lost their power and the glass construct came into better focus. If it was a greenhouse, there was nothing inside it. They could see clear through the building. From its base to its peaked roof it stood perhaps one hundred feet tall, but its length was difficult to judge. All four sides and the angled roof were transparent crystal, nearly invisible and untouched by dust or blowing sand.

“You’ve been this way before,” said John to Leggy. “When you were running freight. You never saw this?”

Leggy shook his head. “There’s no way I would’ve forgotten something like this.”

“When’s the last time you made a run out this way?” asked Derek.

“Shit, must be…twenty, thirty years,” said Leggy.

“So it’s less than twenty years old?” asked Derek.

“Maybe,” said Leggy. “Though I suppose if we passed it at night, we would’ve missed it.” The old man scratched his chin.

“You mean if you weren’t passed out drunk,” said Derek.

“I never drank on the job,” said Leggy stiffly. “Least, not enough to impair my scoutin’.”

Teddy, still amazed by the structure, walked around it, leaving smudgy handprints, which quickly disappeared, all around its exterior. The glass appeared quite solid.

The others watched Teddy knock on the panes as he walked the perimeter of the house. His gait grew more assured, his knocks louder and harder against the transparent walls. He looked back at his audience, grinning, and smiled through the glass at them as he turned the second corner, which Leggy guessed to be about twenty-five yards away.

Teddy leaned forward to rap heavily, and stumbled as his hand met no resistance. He fell into the house. The others startled and raced around the corner to his aid.

***

Teddy lay on the floor of the building, just inside.

John carefully felt the wall and found that an ovular, door-sized entrance was cut from the glass. It was nearly imperceptible to the naked eye, such was the pure crystalline quality of the structure.

Derek stepped inside to help his brother. The floor was a polished mirror, and looking down into it, Derek could see himself looking back up. He was shocked by the wild face that stared back at him—the dirt and grime etched into his brow, a tangled beard, and the grim expression of a haunted man.

Teddy clambered to his feet. He and Derek began to cautiously explore the seemingly empty interior. Walking was careful, tedious work. The floor reflected the empty blue of the sky above, and their brains refused to believe they were on solid ground.

After a careful inspection of the interior, Derek and Teddy discovered, almost by bumping into it, the building’s one interesting structure. A crystal staircase, nearly invisible, was set in the exact center of the room. It spiraled up to the roof, and it spiraled down through a shaft that opened in the mirrored floor. The edges of the shaft were glass-smooth, and its diameter was an exact fit for the circular staircase. The shaft was too deep to see its bottom.

Derek put a foot onto the first step.

Teddy grabbed his arm. “Don’t go down, Der. It’s scary. And I won’t fit to go with you.”

It was true. The diameter of the shaft wouldn’t admit Teddy’s bulk.

“I ain’t goin’ down, Teddy. Not yet anyway,” said Derek. He glanced at the ceiling. “I’m goin’ up.”

Derek ascended several dozen steps, but was forced to stop when he reached the peaked ceiling. He felt around for a hatch or opening of some sort, but could find nothing. Eventually he gave up and returned to the floor.

“Nothing up there,” called Derek to the others, who hesitated in the doorway. “So I guess we see what’s down there.” He began to descend the stairs.

“Now hold on just a damned minute,” Leggy called, but Derek ignored him.

Teddy whimpered.

“Well, he can’t go down there alone,” said Magdalena. She stepped inside and walked smoothly to the center of the house. She felt for a stair, and put her hand on the center column for a guide.

***

John glanced back and forth between the group outside and those inside. Magdalena was already on her way down, her body disappearing beneath the mirrored floor. Teddy was beginning to cry. And to John’s dismay, he could see activity on the horizon—skeins of sand spiraling up from the ground in miniature funnels, propelled forward by currents of air. He tapped Leggy on the shoulder and pointed.

“Oh, shit,” Leggy snarled, “That’s a sandstorm brewin’. Wait!” he called to Magdalena, but she had already sunk out of sight. “Mother of fuck,” Leggy cursed. “Come on fellas, we gotta try and squeeze these animals inside before we all get shredded by that storm.”

The sky darkened. Lightning flashed . The sand on the ground outside the glass house was already being disturbed by the increasing wind.

John looked over at the strange hole that Magdalena had just descended—the hole where she was all alone facing God knew what. Alone with Derek.

He moved to enter the structure when Leggy put an arm on his shoulder.

“Hold up there, John. We got to get everyone inside first. Teddy seems to be out of commission, and I can’t wrangle these mules inside by myself.”

John looked toward the staircase again, then turned back to help Leggy off his donkey. The old man scampered inside, then turned to Samuel.

“Come on, youngster, you and that dog get in here.”

Samuel obeyed, guiding Sheba through the opening. The dog whined, disoriented by the mirrored floor. Her paws slid on the smooth surface. Samuel led her several steps into the house, and rewarded the dog with a strip of jerky. Sheba huddled against the boy, gnawing at the meat, her sides trembling slightly.

“Now the mules,” said Leggy.

John grabbed Afha’s bridle and tugged. The beast walked up to the house but wouldn’t step inside. John strained at the reins, but Afha set his hooves into the sand and would not be moved.

“Teddy,” shouted Leggy. “Quit your cryin’. We need you over here.”

Teddy lumbered over, wiping his eyes and nose with a dirty sleeve.

“See if you can give him a push while I pull,” said John.

Teddy stepped outside. The sky was purple and gray, and the air was alive with a hissing wind. Teddy squinted against the gritty sand that swirled through the air. He wrapped his arms around Afha’s midsection and heaved. The donkey brayed, its ears flat against its head, and the beast stayed put.

“Goddamit,” said Leggy, as the two men struggled to budge the beast, “if those mules don’t get in here the storm’s gonna strip the flesh right off their bones!”

“Wait,” said Samuel. “I think I know what to do.” The boy ran back outside. He staggered in the surging wind, and unstrapped a bedroll from Minna. He ran back inside, and unrolled the blanket.

“It’s the floor,” said Samuel, shouting to be heard over the gale. “The reflection makes them skittish.”

“Good thinkin’,” said Leggy. “Hey Ted, get them bedrolls off and toss ’em in here.”

They quickly spread several blankets across the entrance. John tugged at the reins. Afha stuck his head through the door and put one hoof gingerly on a blanket. Once the creature was satisfied of its footing, it came inside without a fuss. Minna followed easily. Teddy came last, his cheeks raw, abraded by the gritty winds.

***

Sand was coming in through the opening, falling in drifts against the inner wall. Outside the wind roared. They moved away from the door, sliding blankets ahead of them to keep the mules moving. They made their way to opposite end of the structure, where they cowered in the corner as the sandstorm unleashed its full power.

Leggy watched, pop-eyed, as the storm squatted directly over them, lashing at their shelter like a screaming child intent on smashing a toy castle. Dark clouds of desert particles shrieked against the glass ceiling, the glass walls. Gusts of wind blasted through the opening, carrying stinging grit to their eyes, ears, and mouths. Cannon shots of thunder battered the crystal frame. Leggy was certain the whole structure would shatter, and they would be shredded to bloody bits by infinite shards of glass and sand.

Teddy howled in absolute terror. Samuel buried his face in Sheba’s fur, and both boy and dog whined and trembled. Only John had eyes for the crystal staircase, and the black pit where Magdalena had descended.

***

Magdalena counted fifty steps before she met up with Derek. Her fingers and her ears told her they were in a narrow shaft, the circumference of which exactly fit the staircase. In the closeness of the shaft, the rank smell of Derek’s dried sweat and unwashed clothes struck her like a blow.

“Can you see how far this goes down?” she asked.

“No,” said Derek. “It’s getting darker as we go. I can see maybe a dozen more steps, and then it’s black as night.”

Magdalena opened her mouth slightly. She caught the gentle motion of cool air wafting up from beneath them, and, perhaps, a distant hum. But otherwise she could hear nothing.

“Why’d you follow me down?” asked Derek.

“Because I wanted to speak with you, in private.”

“Go ahead, then.”

“Does John know?”

“Know what?” Derek asked.

“Know that you laid with me?”

“No,” said Derek. “And I’m not gonna tell him.”

“What about the others? Your brother? Nicodemus?”

“Teddy was asleep. Leggy’ll keep his trap shut.”

“And the boy—do you think he can truly read minds?” she asked

“Hell if I know,” said Derek. “Nothin’ we can do about it if he can.”

Magdalena was quiet for a long moment. “You understand then that I—that I’m going to be with him? That I’m going to be with John?”

“Sure,” said Derek, gritting his teeth and continuing his descent. “I had my jollies.”

“And those nights in my home?”

“The old lady sold you for a poke,” said Derek. “I had my fun. Now we’re done.”

Magdalena frowned. From the direction of Derek’s voice, she could tell he was not looking at her.

“And now…?” she asked.

There was a soft rasp, the sound of steel slipping from leather. Derek had drawn a knife.

“We keep goin’ down,” he said.

“I’d rather go back up,” said Magdalena

“Suit yourself,” said Derek.

Magdalena listened to the sound of his steps as he descended. Then she turned and began to make her way slowly back up the stairs.

***

Above, the storm raged on. A jagged pitchfork of lighting licked out from the black clouds. Then another and another. The flashes had a strobe effect, freezing the storm for a moment of time. In those instances Leggy saw each individual grain of sand, pausing in their mad swirl around the edges of the crystal house. The sand gave shape to the wind, tracing the coiling vortices of its movement, becoming skin to its invisible sinews. Beneath the cold fear Leggy felt awe, as if the designs of nature had been revealed to him for an instant.

“Look,” he said, prodding John. “It’s beautiful.”

***

John had no eyes for the spectacle. He fixed his attention on the crystal stairs and the dark hole. His belly was tight with fear—of the storm, yes, and for Magdalena’s safety, yes, but another note hummed on, striking an anxious chord in his guts. If she had gone down by herself, or with Teddy, or Leggy, this third note would not be ringing. But she was alone in the dark with Derek.

Ever since their boyhood, John had deferred to Derek—after all, Derek was stronger and more clever, and there were advantages to letting him lead. It was Derek who schemed new ways to fill their bellies. It was Derek who fought off the camp bullies who would’ve preyed on John. But in the pattern of their lives, John had come to understand two things: Derek resented what others had and Derek always took what he wanted.

John had been content to live with these conditions until Magdalena had joined the group. For reasons not quite clear to John, Magdalena had chosen him over the others. Though he was pleased with her choice, the geometry of the group had been altered, and John was keenly aware of the change. Before Magdalena they had been a band of brothers, uneasy ones sometimes, but brothers. But now, with the addition of a woman, suddenly they were men.