Withered + Sere (Immemorial Year Book 1) (11 page)

She nodded, turning her face away, blinking back tears. She hated crying. Always had. Said it was a sign of weakness. She didn’t have time to show weakness. It got you hurt, she said. It could get you killed. So she hid her face now. Hid her face even as her chest hitched once. Twice.

“Warren was a good man,” he said.

A choked breath.

“A brave man.”

She wiped her eyes.

“I wish….” He stopped himself. What he meant to say wasn’t fair.

But she heard it anyway. She turned to him, her wet eyes flashing in anger. “Don’t you dare,” she said. “Don’t you dare say you should have been here. Don’t you dare, Cavalo.”

He should have. He hadn’t been. “You’re right. I don’t dare.”

“You come here only when you want. When it’s convenient for you.”

“Yes.”

“You hide away up at that prison with your damn dog. With your insane robot. With your ghosts.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t know what it means to be human anymore. You are cold. You are dead inside. You don’t care about anyone except yourself.”

That stung. Deeply. But he had no retort. “Yes.”

Her hands curled into fists on the table. He thought she meant to swing at him. He wouldn’t stop her. If it helped her, he’d let her do it. It was the least he could do.

“Why?” she asked instead.

He waited.

“Why did you bring that… that
thing
here?”

The boy. The Dead Rabbit. The psycho fucking bulldog. “I don’t know,” he said.

“Did you want us to kill him for you?”

“No.” He could have killed the Dead Rabbit himself.

“Did you want us to try him? Stand for his crimes? For being a Dead Rabbit?”

“No.” The result would have been the same.

“Did he have something to do with Warren?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

Alma was furious. “You know what they do.”

“Yes.”

“They took him. They took my brother.” Her voice quaked.

“Yes.” He could see it in his mind. Every moment.

“They took him. They cut him. While he was alive and awake, they cut off his head.”

“Yes.”
Oh God.

“Then they… they….” Her chest hitched again.

“Alma. Don’t.”

She pushed through. “Then they
ate
him.”

He closed his eyes.

“It’s what they do. They
eat
people.
They eat humans
. They sent his head back as a warning, and they
ate the rest of him
.”

He said nothing.

“And
you
.”

Cavalo could hear the hiss of her breath.

“You of all people. You
know
what they do. You
know
what they’re capable of. Because of
her
. Because of your
son
—”

He slammed his fist down on the table. She flinched back. “Don’t,” he said.

But she wasn’t scared of him. Even when everyone else shrank away, she never had. “Why did you bring him here?”

“Because Jamie led me to him.” He said it before he could stop himself.

Her eyes widened. “Jamie? Who is… oh. Oh, Cavalo. That… was that your son’s name?”

He’d never told her before. And now that he had, he wanted nothing more than to take it back. Her eyes had lost their anger, and now they only held sadness. It was for him. He hated that look. “It doesn’t matter.”
Jamie didn’t lead me to anything. He didn’t. It was nothing. It
is
nothing.

“He’s dead,” she said.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

Daddy!

“Yes.”

Alma Marsh sighed and rose from her chair, taking the ruined cloth. The dirty bowl. “I expect you’re hungry.”

He shook his head but wouldn’t look at her. “No, ma’am. Just tired. Bad Dog could probably use something to eat if you’re offering.”

“I may have a couple of bones for him.” She turned toward the kitchen and took a step. She stopped but didn’t turn back. “Cavalo.”

“Yeah?”

She hesitated, and he wondered at her mind. “You know where the bed is,” she said finally. “Get some sleep. I expect you’ll want to provision up before you leave.”

“Snow’s coming early,” he said. He thought of the Dead Rabbit.

“It always does. I have work to do.”

“What?”

She laughed. “If you can believe it, building a government office.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Wilkinson?”

“Said they needed a home base. A
liaison
office, he called it. If you can believe such a thing.”

“And you’re doing it?”

Her response was clipped. “Money’s money.”

He looked down at his hands. Killer’s hands. “That it is.”

“I’ll be back later.”

She walked toward the kitchen. Before she got to the doorway, he called out to her. She stopped.

“In the woods,” he said. “Through the divide.”

He saw her shoulders tense.

“The Dead Rabbit. Others were there. They didn’t see me.”

“Lucky you.” Her voice was tight.

“They mentioned a name.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Seemed like he was their leader.”

She laughed. It sounded forced. “The Dead Rabbits don’t have leaders. They’re animals.”

“Even animals follow pack leaders,” he said quietly.

“What of it?”

“Patrick.” He looked for a reaction. “That was his name.”

She gave none. “Good for him. Good for them.”

“You heard that name?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“You done? I’m going to be late.”

“Yeah. Alma?”

“What?”

“Thanks. For….”

“I know.”

And then she was gone.

HE SLEPT
in her bed (one that he was not a stranger to) and dreamed of fire and blood.

HE WOKE
as dusk descended on Cottonwood. For a moment he was still trapped in his dreams and he was sure there was still time. He was sure
she
hadn’t tried to take Jamie and leave. He was sure all he had to do was call out to her, and she’d open the door and everything would be as it was and as it should be.

He was so sure.

He opened his mouth to call her name. It died before he made a sound. The room came back into focus. It was strange but not unfamiliar.

He closed his eyes. Breathed in.

And heard her sing.

Good-bye, good-bye, you say good-bye

From my arms you rise

Nothing here left, my love

So you say good-bye

He rose from the bed and followed her song.

You have gone now, o’er the sea

To the place beyond the mountains

I cannot walk, I cannot follow

So I say good-bye

There will be death
, the bees said.

Years now passed, memory did fade

Your face hidden in shadow

Claimed from me my love

So we say good-bye.

Good-bye. The man named Cavalo said good-bye.

Good-bye, good-bye, you say good-bye

From my arms you rise

Nothing here left, my love

So you say good-bye

He found her on the porch, sitting in an old wooden chair, a blanket on her lap. The sky was almost dark, hidden behind those ominous clouds. Bad Dog sat in front of her, his head on her thigh, his big dark eyes watching her as she sang. She stroked his ears. On the last sweet note from her lips, she fell silent. He knew that she knew he was there. He waited, ignoring the deep chill in the air.

Finally, she said, “Wilkinson is taking your prisoner. The Dead Rabbit.”

“Where?”

She turned her face toward the sky. “Did you know there are satellites? Do you know that word?”

He did. He’d heard it before. Somewhere in his travels. Space robots. For however much the idea of how the big the world was scared him, the idea of
outside
the world was unfathomable to Cavalo. “Yeah.”

“Great machines. Spinning around Earth, high above us in space. We put them there. We had the means to do so. Once. With rockets. Do you know rockets?”

He didn’t, not really, but he understood what she meant.

“With the satellites, you could talk to anyone in the world in seconds. You could find anything in the world in seconds. We were all connected.” She sounded wistful. “All of us.”

The idea was so beyond Cavalo that he couldn’t process it. It was a magnitude he didn’t understand. “Why would you want to?”

She laughed. “Right. Of course. I forgot for a moment who I was talking to. Maybe it’d be easier for you to understand that these satellites could fire lasers. Light that was like bullets. And bombs. You know bombs. Everyone knows bombs.”

“From Before.”

“Yes. But now, these things, these satellites, are useless. They float above us, circling Earth. Maybe they still work. Maybe they don’t. It doesn’t matter. They’re out of our reach.”

He understood. “For now.”

She nodded. “Yes. For now. So, for now, Wilkinson cannot call his people, this new government, on his fancy radio. The signal isn’t powerful enough. He must send a messenger with a letter.”

“To where?”

“East. Maybe Grangeville. Maybe farther. I think farther.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I’m building their office. I hear things. And besides, I’m just a woman. What could I know about the minds of men?”

Cavalo frowned. “Why would you think that?” It was unlike her. If anything, she was smarter than most people he knew.

She laughed again, and it sounded like the first real laugh since he’d arrived that morning. “Oh, that’s not what
I
believe. Just what was implied. Wilkinson doesn’t think much of women, though he’s made it known he wouldn’t mind sticking it in me.”

“I’m sure that went over well.”

“Let’s just say that I’m lucky I wasn’t arrested. How was I to know his wrist could be so easily sprained?” She stroked Bad Dog’s ears one last time before she pushed him away gently and rose to her feet. It was almost full-on dark. “Now,” she said as she began to unbutton her work shirt. Her skin was luminous in the dark. “I need to be held.”

Her shirt dropped to the porch, and he stepped forward, taking her in his arms.

AFTER, THEY
lay side by side in her bed.

“You could come with me,” he said.

“To the prison?”

“Yes.”

She snorted. “That’s appealing.”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. You can come.”

“You don’t mean that.”

He didn’t know if he did, so he said nothing.

“Or,” she said. “You could stay.”

“You know I can’t.”

“I do?”

“Yes.”

“The world needs people like you, Cavalo.”

Pretty words
, the bees said.
You are nothing but a murderer.

“The world needs to be scared of people like me,” he said.

“People listen to you.”

“Because they’re scared.”

“You’re a natural leader.”

“Lie.”

“Cottonwood will need someone. Soon, I think.”

“Hank is already here.”

She shook her head. He felt her hair on his bare shoulder.

“Hank wasn’t made to lead.”

“He’s done well so far.”

“He’s scared, Cavalo. Like the rest of us. Things are about to change. It’s already started.”

“I can’t be who you want me to be.” He meant it. About so many things.

“No,” she said sadly. “No, you can’t. I’ll go with you to the prison if you tell me one thing.”

“What?”

“Your name.”

“Cavalo.” He knew what she meant, but he pretended she didn’t.

“Your full name.”

“Alma….” It was buried, behind the bees. She knew this. It was gone.

“I know. One day. When you tell someone your real name, that’s when you’ll know you’re ready.”

“For what?”

She loomed over him and began to move her hips. “To rise,” she said. “One day, you will rise.”

He didn’t know what she spoke of. But even in her words, the song over her voice, he couldn’t help but feel this was good-bye, good-bye.

She said good-bye.

ashen and sober

HE WOKE,
as he sometimes did, in the middle of the night. Dreams chased him out, their claws trying to pull him back under. He escaped, but only just. His head hurt.

He didn’t allow himself sentimentality as he eased out of bed, careful not to wake Alma. He hadn’t survived as long as he had by allowing himself to become sentimental. It wasn’t who he was.

The bees buzzed words he couldn’t understand. Something felt off. It was harder to breathe.

He dressed quietly. He thought he should pause at the doorway. Look back. Think of fond memories. Maybe even leave a note. Do something to show he wasn’t dead inside, that he could resemble a human being.

But he did none of this.

Bad Dog raised his head from his spot in front of the iron fireplace. Firelight danced along his fur. He cocked his head.
Awake now, MasterBossLord?

“Yes.”

Done here?

“Yes.”

He stood and arched his back.
AlmaLady gave me two bones and I chewed them to pieces!

Cavalo found his pack near the door. He dug through it until he found his old hunting coat. He put it on, wondering what he had been thinking the month was when he’d packed it earlier. “Good bones?”

Bad Dog shook himself.
The best bones. Smells like wet outside.

“Snow’s coming.” He picked up the rifle. His bow.

I like snow?

Cavalo allowed himself to smile. “You do. You act like a puppy in snow. Cold white stuff.”

Bad Dog’s tail wagged, and he grinned.
I like cold white stuff. I bite it and I’m not thirsty anymore. Gonna go home? SIRS is gonna be mad.