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Authors: Victoria Danann

CRAVE (23 page)

BOOK: CRAVE
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“What do you think that is?” Scape said.

“No idea,” Raven answered.

After a few more minutes they could make out the rider.

“Well, well. It’s the Extant himself,” said Leo. “Come to see about his boy.”

“’
Bout time,” said Snow.

When Free and Serene slowed to keep pace with the others, Serene dismounted. First she walked ahead so she could get in front of Crave and see how he was doing. She couldn’t see his eyes because the blanket was hooded over them, but she was satisfied that he was alive and trudging forward.

She walked back to the water they had in the saddlebags, wet a towel and hurried back to Crave. Walking backwards she began cleaning the blood, sand, and salt off his face. He tried to push her hand away, but she said, “Stop that this instant. I’m not keeping you from your business. But it’s my right as your mother to make sure you’re clean.”

He couldn’t find it in himself to push his mother away so he allowed it. When she was satisfied that his face was as clean as possible under the circumstances, she pulled two jars from her pocket. The first had a healing agent that she applied to the split on Crave’s lip. The second was the skin protector. She smeared it on Crave’s face and neck and hands until she was satisfied that he was covered and then set about doing the same for his former crew.

Starting with Snow, she walked alongside the barely-moving motorcycle and applied salve to Snow’s face, neck and hands. She went to Raven next.

“Hey,” Scape said. “I was next.”

Serene smirked. “Beauty first.”

“Well, that’s not fair.”

“Raven’s future mate will disagree with you.”

Raven snorted at that, but turned her face toward Serene and cooperated with the treatment. “Thank you,” she said.

Serene shook her head. “I’m the one who’s owing you.”

When she’d finished with Leo and Scape, she said, “More people are coming with water to drink and fuel for the bikes. We’re going to put a rider on behind each one of you to hold a tent over you.”

“Is that what that was?” Scape asked.

“They’re bringing blankets for tonight and oil lamps. Free and I are grateful that you’re here with him.”

No one replied because warriors are often embarrassed and thrown off balance by sentimentality. But no response was needed.

She then took one of the waterskins they’d brought and held it for Crave’s crew to drink, one by one, as she kept pace and walked beside them. Crave still had a couple of swallows in the bottom of his waterskin. He drank it down and let the empty skin drop to the sand.

Serene picked it up and held onto it as she got back on the back of Free’s bike and raised their orange and yellow tent.

In less than fifteen minutes, Charming arrived with four other riders and passengers. The four passengers, each carrying a wraparound skirt, dismounted and got on behind Crave’s crew.

Each of them almost groaned from pleasure, feeling a merciful fifteen degrees cooler the instant a skirt made shade above their heads.

One of the females who’d gone to find skirts, a couple of years younger than Charming, happily snagged an opportunity to ride behind the leader’s handsome son. Even though he’d explained that it wasn’t a pleasure outing, she’d been adamant about wanting to go and, since she was cute as a fawn, who was he to argue?

In another half hour Goose arrived pulling the tanker. Serene slid off the bike and walked back to where he was.

“Where’s the special water?” she asked.

“For Crave?” he whispered.

She nodded. He pointed. She filled the waterskin she’d scooped up from the sand with Flora’s special recipe and strode ahead to Crave.

She said nothing, just handed him the waterskin. He looked at it for a minute without taking it. Finally Serene said, “You dropped this on the sand back there.” She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw the corner of his mouth stretch just a little. More importantly, he accepted the waterskin. She held the blanket tent up while he took a drink and looped the full waterskin over his shoulder.

Satisfied that she’d done all possible for the moment, Serene waited for Free to catch up and climbed on the bike again. As the afternoon wore on, there was a steady stream of arrivals that included the second tanker laden with fuel, water, blankets, and lamps. Word of Crave’s self-imposed penance spread quickly through the community until, by the time they reached the north end of salt flats, there were over a hundred riders on half as many bikes, all come to let Crave know he wasn’t alone.

It was a strange and unusual sight. So many motorcycles tented by bright colorfully patterned fabrics waving in the breeze, all following one lone man on foot holding a gray blanket over his head.

Free was filled with pride and emotion over the show of support being demonstrated by the people with whom he’d forged a new world. He wasn’t entirely sure why they were there. He knew it was a statement of loyalty and empathy, and that no one present would ever forget. They might someday tell their grandchildren about the day the Exiled voluntarily crossed the wasteland together. In mid-summer. At the pace of a snail.

Free didn’t know if Crave knew or understood what was happening behind him, but he hoped he did.

Once every hour Serene tied one of the skirts over Free’s head under his chin so that she could move to the front and tend to Crave. Free with a skirt on his head was a sight that would have made her giggle under other circumstances. She would tie another over her own head, slather on some of Flora’s skin healer and protector, then make the rounds of Crave’s crew giving them fresh water while they rode. By that time, the water was about the same temperature as the desert air, but at least it was wet. So they were grateful to get it.

Whenever a bike was close to running out of fuel, the rider dropped back to the tanker, filled up, and regained their place in the makeshift formation.

Crave discarded the first waterskin that had been filled with the enhanced liquid. She grabbed it, refilled it from his special container, and carried it to the front of the procession. As she handed it over, she said, “Here. You dropped this.”

It was evident to everyone in the strange parade that Crave had slowed. He was still moving in a straight line, but he’d gradually decreased his pace from marching to trudging to plodding.

At sundown, when the temperature plummeted, there was a brief period of relief between baking hot and freezing cold. Serene used it to get ready for the next phase. She and some of the other passengers passed out blankets from the second trailer.

“Tie the skirts around your necks first. You can use the extra layer for warmth and you’ll be ready for tomorrow morning,” she instructed.

“What happens tomorrow morning?” Scape asked.

“Gods willing, the sun comes up again,” she replied.

As the last light faded, Serene had her helpers pass out her secret stash. Before she and Free left Newland, she’d stopped at the Commons and told them to fill every closed container they could find with Exiled full-bodied red ale and put two more casks on the trailer. It was a good plan. She knew the ale would warm their blood and help them pass safely through the cold of the night.

Finally, one thing went in their favor. The breeze that had whipped up sand and salt, adding to their misery all day, laid that night. At least they wouldn’t have wind chill to add to the barely tolerable environment.

She filled a waterskin for Crave with red ale first. There was still water in the skin she’d brought him from before, but she knew the less explaining the better. So she jerked the partly consumed skin off his shoulder and handed him the one with the ale saying, “Here, you dropped this.”

She held her breath until he took it, knowing that warming his blood with alcohol might be the razor’s edge difference.

After that she lit the oil lamps and handed them off to her passenger helpers to disperse, making sure that most of the lamps were concentrated in the front, with a few spread out at the rear. The lamps had inverted u-shaped handles so that they could hang on handlebars and, at that speed, on that terrain, ride with no problem.

Serene smiled when she heard the evidence that people were discovering their containers held ale instead of water. They raised their voices to the night in hoots, hollers, and salutations such as, “Praise the gods and the Extant’s wife!”

Crave was flanked by a brace of crew members and their passengers with his parents and brother riding directly behind him. He was entering a sort of altered state, partly due to sleep deprivation, in which his consciousness had room for one thing only - forward momentum. Originally he’d tricked his mind into believing that stopping was not an option, but at some point his mind had accepted the belief as true and taken over, directing his body to keep moving in spite of protests from muscles and nerve endings. His body, much recovered since his release from the holding facility, was young enough and strong enough to comply with the extreme demands being made of it.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

When the sun went down, Trace climbed to the plateau where Dandelion had taken up lookout. She arrived carrying an oil lamp and a thermos of steaming hot soup. Dandy immediately opened it and took a drink that warmed her all the way down.

“Hmmm,” she said. “So good. Thank you.”

Trace sat down next to her on the blanket that was spread on the ground. She was wearing her winter coat and had another blanket with her.

“There’d be no shame in coming inside, Dandy.”

Dandelion gave no answer at first. She took another swallow of soup and closed her eyes from the goodness of the taste and the warmth it spread before saying, “I know. It’s not about shame. I don’t know if I can explain.”

Trace sighed. “You know when we were growing up, everybody thought the thing between you and Crave was, I don’t know, a little weird.”

Dandy laughed. “Why?”

“Because you were very young to settle on a mate. But honestly, I think everybody was envious.”

“You, too?”

“Maybe me especially. You never felt alone.”

“Not until the last few years.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s cold. You should go back inside.”

“I thought I’d keep you company.”

Dandy was touched by that gesture. “You’re a good friend, Trace. And it means so much that you’re here. But somebody has to take care of the kids because tomorrow they’re going to wake up full of piss just like always.” She took another drink of soup. When Trace made no move to leave, she said, “Who’s taking care of my kids?”

“Sabre.”

Dandy nodded. “That’s good.”

When she finished the soup, Trace took the thermos. “Well, if you’re sure. I’m going to head inside.”

“Yes. I’m sure. Go in.”

Trace got to her feet, but shed the blankets she was wearing. “Here. You’re going to need these.” She draped them around Dandy and started away.

“Wait.” Trace stopped. “You think you could find me something with alcohol?”

Trace laughed. “You know that’s against the rules at Fosterland.” Dandy waited. “Yeah. I think the builders probably have something fresh. I’ll go see. Plus, it gives me an excuse to knock on their door.” She winked.

Fifteen minutes later, she returned with some extra hard cider. It might not be as effective as ale, but it would definitely make the night go better.

“You want me to leave the lamp?”

Dandy shook her head. “No. Take it. I’d just as soon let my eyes adjust to the dark.”

“Okay. See you in the morning.”

“See ya.”

When Trace withdrew, taking the light with her, Dandy pulled the pile of blankets tighter around her. She thought that she should feel very alone sitting there in the darkness looking out at the black of a moonless night on the desert below. But oddly, she didn’t feel alone.

Crave was coming.

Saying those three words in her head caused her to gasp involuntarily as her lungs demanded to be filled all the way to capacity. Perhaps she hadn’t taken in a full breath since Crave had been taken. Perhaps she’d thought she never would again.

She never for an instant accept the possibility that Crave wouldn’t make it. When he was determined, he was a force so formidable that nothing could stand against him. Not heat or cold or lack of sleep or exhaustion. She knew this in her soul.

BOOK: CRAVE
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