Apocalypse (The Wasteland Chronicles, #1) (12 page)

She looked me up and down, and shrugged.
“What of it?”

“I could use one, you know.”

“Maybe in time,” she said. “I’m surer about
you, now.”

I didn’t understand why she’d kept it from
me. Did she not trust me after all we’d been through?

The guard led us down Oasis’s main drag. I’d
never seen anything like it in my life. Buildings of sheet metal
and wood, sometimes both, lined both sides of the street. From the
sides people watched us, more people than I’d ever seen since
leaving the underground. They were dressed in tattered, faded pants
and colorless shirts, almost none of one piece, but sewn together
from a variety of different sources.

For the first time, I realized what a
commodity clothes were, and how much I had taken them for granted
living underground. All Bunker residents had standard issue,
wear-resistant pants and shirts, along with camo and warm weather
gear for recons. If anything needed to be mended, there was spare
material.

These people had no such luxury. They had
whatever they found, or they inherited it.

It wasn’t just the clothes I noticed. The men
had long, thick beards, and intense, dark eyes. The faces were
gaunt and hardened, faces well beyond their years. There was little
beauty left in the women, other than the young. The harshness of
life had taken it out early.

No one said a word to us. There was no
greeting or welcome. There was just calculation in those eyes,
wondering who we were, whether we were dangerous, whether we could
be taken advantage of.

It was nothing like I had expected. These
people were scraping to get by. I wondered if it was just the harsh
environment and lack of resources, or the city’s leadership. Either
way, if this was the best a walled city had to offer, maybe I
didn’t want it.

Then again, my hungry stomach disagreed.

“When can we eat?” I asked Makara.

“Just let me talk, and try not to get in the
way.”

We came at last to the oasis itself. There
were palm trees around it, but they were shriveled and long dead.
The whole thing was more like a pond than a lake. Buildings crowded
around it, made from the same sort of wood and sheet metal I had
seen earlier.

In all, the total population of the town
might have been a thousand people.

One side of the oasis was completely bare. In
the failing light it was hard to tell, but that might have been
where the crops were.

A tall man stood, back to us, on the shore of
the oasis. I knew this was Ohlan, because two guards stood by him
with rifles, facing toward us. The man turned at our approach,
gazing at us with calculating blue eyes. He, unlike the other
people I had seen, was well-fed and his face clean-shaven. He was
balding, with a ring of gray hair. In his wrinkled face was a
toughness that doesn’t come from the hardships of life, but from
inflicting hardships on others. I immediately did not like him.

“Elder Ohlan,” Makara said. “I thank you for
this audience.”

She knelt on one knee. I was shocked that
Makara was kneeling to this guy who seemed to cover my soul in
slime just by my looking at him.

It seemed as if I was expected to kneel, too.
So I did. For Makara.

“No need for formalities,” Ohlan said. His
tone was cursory, and from it I deduced that there was, in fact,
need for formalities. “Not between friends.”

“Thank you, Elder,” Makara said.

The guard who had escorted us stood by and
watched like a hawk.

Now Ohlan looked at me. I gazed for a moment
into his cold blue eyes before turning away as if burned. The eyes
were shrewd, and seemed to catch, in a moment, everything I was. A
contemptuous smirk played on his lips before he broke into a
pleasant smile.

“Welcome, Makara of the Lost Angels.” He
looked toward me. “And who is this?”

“His name is Alex. He was alone in the
Wasteland. He’s with me now.”

“Ah,” Ohlan said. “The Wastes seem not yet to
have chilled your heart, Makara. Is there a reason for this
adoption?”

“He was helpless. He is the only survivor of
Bunker 108.”

Ohlan flinched a bit. He quickly recovered,
turning to me. “108? So Chan is dead?”

I stared at him, confused. What did he know
of Chan? Of us? Apparently, Chan had more ties to the outside world
than he had let on.

I swallowed my pride at having to answer this
man. “I’m afraid so.”

Ohlan’s eyes narrowed. “An interesting
development. How did it happen, if I may ask?”

I didn’t want to tell him. But Makara and I
needed him, as much as that hurt. He had control of this town and
the food that would feed me tonight.

“A sickness,” I said. “I barely escaped and
would be dead if not for Makara.”

“A sickness?” Ohlan considered. “Yes. There
have been rumors of a new, wasting death. Agonizing. Bodies have
been found over the last few weeks in the desert, bloated, ripped.
The Blights ever spread.”

Ohlan turned from me and back to Makara.

“Yes. I remember you. And I don’t remember
you. You are not the little girl who was Raine’s own. You have
changed. You were so happy and carefree, then.”

“I had the luxury to be.”

“Indeed. The City of Angels is no longer
that. And the Angels are dead, and the cruel Wastes are now even
crueler. You have hardened.”

“I have become what I must.”

“Indeed.” Ohlan gave a coy smile. “Even so
much as to take from others? You have not joined with the locusts
of the east, have you?”

I had no idea what Ohlan was referring to,
but I realized he was talking about the Raiders and Raider
Bluff.

“I became what I had to become after Raine
died,” Makara said. “To survive.”

“You should have come here first, Makara. You
know I would have taken you in. But you didn’t come. Are the walls
of Oasis not sufficient for you? There was safety here, and family.
But you chose another path. You became a Raider.”

Ohlan’s eyes seemed to dance. Makara looked
afraid, and I felt protective of her. But what could I do? I was
just a kid, and Ohlan was a powerful man.

“You said…family?” Makara asked.

“Oh, yes. Did you not know?”

“Know? Know what?”

Ohlan smiled. “Your brother, Samuel. He was
here.”

Makara’s eyes widened. “Samuel? Samuel was
here? When? Where is he now?”

Makara’s hands shook, either from nerves or
excitement. I just hoped Ohlan wasn’t lying. If he was, I was going
to wring his neck, armed guards or not.

“He’s gone, now,” Ohlan said. “Samuel came
here almost two years ago, thinking to find you. But he did not
find you here. He stayed on. About a year ago, he left to live in
Bunker 114. Your brother has a brilliant mind, and Dr. Luken, the
head of Bunker 114, wanted Samuel to help him with his research.
Three weeks ago, Samuel returned from 114, intending to live here.
He refused to say why, but apparently he had a falling-out with Dr.
Luken. It was only a few days later that we received a distress
call from 114. Then nothing. All of our transmissions have been met
with silence. A few days later, Samuel led a patrol to 114 to find
out what happened. He was supposed to have been back by now.” Ohlan
shook his head. “We have not heard from him since.”

“Where is Bunker 114?” Makara asked. “We will
go immediately.”

“114 is not far – it lies in the heart of
Cold Mountain, about fifteen miles northwest.”

“And he never returned?” Makara asked.

“No,” Ohlan said. “After losing so much, I
cannot risk more men and resources. In fact, I couldn’t get anyone
to go even if I wanted to. The widows still mourn the loss of their
husbands. You can hear them weeping in the night. And it’s been
such a cold, dry year. The crop is pitiful. Worse, those men had
weapons and supplies with them, things that cannot be replaced.”
Ohlan sighed. “If only I could get them back.”

“We will go,” Makara said. “We will bring
them back.”

I looked at Makara, and looked at Ohlan. He
gave a small, satisfied smile.

“Makara, I do not want to give you false
hope. We have not heard from them since the day after they set out.
Your brother…”

“…May still be alive. Even if he is dead, I
need to know the truth. I couldn’t live knowing he might be out
there, still.”

“Honorable. But what of your friend,
here?”

“I will help her,” I said. “These supplies
must be very useful to you. Surely you would like them back?”

Ohlan licked his lips. “Yes, of course I
would.”

“We will bring them back for you. In
exchange, we would like to stay here, in safety.”

Ohlan frowned. “Now,
that
is a lot to
ask.”

“What’s the difference?” I asked. “You lost
five, and you would gain two. Perhaps more, if there are any
survivors. Furthermore, you would get the supplies.”

Ohlan considered. I couldn’t believe I was
convincing him. Makara was quiet. Even she seemed impressed.

Ohlan nodded. “Very well. It is done. If you
and Makara make it back with supplies and survivors – I will see
about letting you stay. As far as tonight, you can stay here. Ren
will see that a warm meal is brought, and give you enough food for
your journey to Bunker 114 and back. You can start tomorrow
morning.”

“Thank you, Ohlan,” Makara said. “We will not
disappoint you.”

Ohlan smirked. “Disappoint me? I have nothing
to lose.”

“We’ll bring those supplies back. I’ll make
sure of it.”

“And I hope you can find out what happened at
114,” Ohlan said. “The supplies are most important, of course, but
I would like to know what was strong enough to kill a patrol of my
best men.”

When Ohlan put it that way, going to Cold
Mountain seemed like a bad idea. Yet this was our only way into a
safe home. And it was the only way Makara could find out about
Samuel.

“Ren, show our guests to the common
house.”

Ren, the guard who had brought us here,
saluted with his hand over his heart. “Yes, Elder.” He turned to
us. “Follow me.”

We followed Ren down the road from which we’d
come. The street was empty, though yellow lights illumined a
building that seemed to be a saloon. Inside I could hear raucous
laughter and booming, electronic music.

We walked until we stood in front of a sheet
metal building along the wall.

“This is the common house,” Ren said. “You
will rest here tonight.”

We went inside. The house was empty, and
looked as if it had not been used in a long time. Several rows of
bunks containing dirty mattresses lined one half of the room.
Still, the prospect of sleeping on something other than rock or
floor was good. The other half of the room contained a table. A
large pot sat in one of the corners.

“What’s that?” I asked.

Ren looked from me to Makara, wondering if I
was joking. “It’s a piss pot.”

Makara smiled at my embarrassment as Ren
turned to leave.

“I’ll be back with food,” he said. “Ohlan
will want you up and ready to go before dawn. You are not to leave
this building until then.”

“We don’t plan to,” Makara said.

When Ren walked out, we stashed our stuff by
the bunks in the corner. Makara took my pack – the one with the
batts in it – and hid it away under the corner bed where it would
be out of sight.

We went to the table, and sat.

“So, where did you get that extra gun?” I
asked.

Makara turned back to me. She was tired, and
did not look as if she wanted to talk.

“It was for safekeeping,” she said. “I did
not know if I could trust you. I took it from Brux’s pack after I
knocked you out. I guess we’ll be getting them back in the
morning.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Look,” Makara said. “I’m sorry. I see you’re
not going to try to shoot me with it now. I’ll give it to you
tomorrow. Promise.”

Makara seemed far away.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

“Just…shocked. Completely shocked. I thought
he was dead these last two years. Now, he might be alive.
Still…probably dead. But there is hope, and I don’t know what to do
with it.” She sighed. “My brother was all I had, Alex.”

“He might still be alive,” I said. “That
would be something.”

“I don’t want to get my hopes up,” Makara
said. “I don’t want this to be just another link on the chain of
disappointments.”

“Either way,” I said. “At least we’ll have
somewhere to stay.”

“Yes. But what’s the point of being alive
when you have nothing to live for?”

“Makara…wasn’t it you who told me we go down
fighting?”

She sighed. “Yes. But…I feel different
now.”

“That’s all it is: a feeling. You never know
what could be coming around.”

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m just saying
words. Words can’t bring my brother back.”

“Maybe we just have to believe. Even if it’s
in nothing.”

“Believe in belief?”

“Maybe. Tomorrow, we will be closer to
knowing the truth.”

“That’s what I’m most afraid of. I’ve lived
my whole life the past two years on the assumption that he’s dead.
What will he think of me and what I’ve done to survive? I did all
those things because I didn’t care. But now maybe I do.”

“There is a time for that,” I said. “For now,
we have a chance to rest. So let’s do that.”

We sat there for a few minutes. Makara
nodded, but her eyes still seemed faraway. But her frown was gone,
replaced with a small smile. Maybe my words had done the trick.

The thing was, even I didn’t know how much I
believed them.

I thought about Ohlan. Living here under the
dominion of that man seemed an evil fate in and of itself.

“Was Ohlan always like this?”

“Yes. He is a smart man, but he is also
cruel. But it is his cruel and calculating ways that helped him to
build Oasis. People follow him without question. If they didn’t,
they would be ostracized, which is as good as death.”