Xenofall (The Wasteland Chronicles, Book 7) (11 page)

“I think...my parents might have tried. But for one reason or another, it never happened. Such things can’t be explained. We had no doctors, and few knew how to use medicine. They were precious, always guarded. The property of the Wise.” She sighed. “You never realize when you’re happy. Until you aren’t. I was happy, until the Reapers came. They killed, they raped, they burned. The dream ended, and somehow, my mom and I were spared, but after the next few years of our life, death might have been preferable. We lived through hell, on the edge of starvation and sanity. I was only twelve. Twelve.”

There were now tears in her eyes. I went over to her, and held her in my arms.

When she had gained control, she continued.

“Sometimes, I wonder how I made it. There were so many times I should have died. But I never did. Even when mom died. I’d survive, keep feeding myself for another day, and wonder why I was doing it. You ever have that?”

I nodded, saying nothing. Julian was also nodding.

“That house, right there,” Anna said, pointing past the crumbled wall. “That’s where Jason and Gwen lived. They were family friends. He kept an orchard, on the heights, in an old greenhouse. Gwen was a scavenger, like my parents.”

“How many lived here?” Julian asked.

“Two hundred, maybe. Of those two hundred, I don’t know how many died. I don’t know how many were taken as slaves. And I don’t know how many of those are still alive today. There’s me, so there’s that.”

“You made it,” I said.

“Yeah. I did. For the longest time, I didn’t believe it was worth it. Especially when mom died. Some disease took her life, but in the end, that’s not surprising. Finding food was hard, and when we did find it, a lot of the time it wasn’t good to eat. We ate it anyway, because we had no choice.” She paused. “We would read to each other, at night. It kept the darkness at bay. Books were the only escape. We’d find them everywhere. Of all the items we found, they were the most ignored, except when people needed something to light a fire. We never burned books. It seemed a travesty, to destroy all these words from a better time. A wiser time. And one day, they might all be gone.”

“What did you do?” Julian asked. “When she died?”

“What any of us would do. I cried. I cried until nothing came, until every ounce of my soul was emptied and dried on the cold, harsh rocks. And I walked. I ate. I did not smile. I did not remember. By that time, I’d found the blade, and books that showed me some basic forms. I practiced endlessly, moving only when I had to. I...killed my first man, when I was fourteen.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m saying all these things, things I told myself I’d never relive.”

“It’s alright,” I said.

She looked at me in a way that said she wasn’t sure if that was true.

“We are the sum of our experiences,” Anna said. “No more, no less. But I’d like to believe there’s something more to all of us. That we have the strength to defy our experiences and rise above them, to push back against the world that has treated us so cruelly. To hold out arms and make it a better place to live. Sometimes, all that gets lost in the madness. It all gets overwhelmed. Yet, here we are. Still standing.”

Julian and I merely stood, listening.

“There are things we’d all rather forget,” Anna went on. “But we can’t. The pain becomes a part of us. There were times where that was
all
there was. That’s the way the world is. You can see beauty, or you can see ugliness. You can even see both, if you want to. Even without the
Radaskim,
this world would be a dark place. But even in the ruins, a flower can bloom. Even in a land without the sun.”

“It will,” I said. “It’s what we’re fighting for.”

I followed Anna’s gaze, and was struck to see what she was looking at. Her word choice turned out not to be merely metaphorical.

In a crack of the concrete, a green stem rose, studded with thorns; at its end a red bud bloomed. A rose in the ruins. How it existed or even grew here, I had no idea. But there it was.

“Some miracles do exist,” she said. “Jason grew roses like these, and even five years later, they’re still here.” She looked at me. “Life is as fragile as it is resilient. We’re built to survive. We’re built to endure. No matter what happens, as long we don’t quit, we’ll find a way. Even if we cry...we don’t cry to quit. We cry to go on.”

We stayed in the house another few minutes. Anna just stood, looking with reminiscent eyes as if seeing through time. She saw things far beyond what Julian and I could see. Ghosts. Memories. Laughter.

She turned, taking my hand.

“Alright. We’ve seen enough.”

We left the house and made our way back to
Orion.
As we weaved between the buildings and stepped onto the highway, I looked toward the right.

To see a man standing there.

Julian and Anna pulled up beside me, and the three of us faced the man. He wore all black – pants, collared shirt, and a wide-brimmed hat; a black duster jacket, the tails of which blew in the wind. A long, scraggly red beard fell down his chest, and eyes as blue as ice stared at us. He wore a belt, on which a handgun was holstered.

The man didn’t move, but I moved my hand to my Beretta.

In the end, the man advanced toward us, slowly.

“Stay there,” I called. “And don’t move. Put your gun on the ground. Slowly.”

The man paused. After a long, watchful moment, he reached for his gun belt, slowly, and removed it. The belt contained not one, but two holsters, one for each side. Next, he shucked his duster, revealing a rifle strapped to his back. He took the strap and the rifle off, laying them on the dirt at his feet.

“Jesus,” Julian said.

The man reached into his left boot, and withdrew a long dagger. He set the dagger on the highway before him. Holding out his gloved hands, he advanced forward, one step at a time.

When he was about twenty-five feet away, Anna called out.

“That’s far enough.”

The man stared at her with those blue eyes. A long moment passed before anyone spoke again.

“Do you recognize this guy?” I asked Anna.

To the side, I saw her shake her head.

“Who are you?” I asked.

The man’s gaze focused on me. Even if he had removed every weapon, he was still dangerous. The way he carried himself, the way he looked at me, told me that. It was impossible to live this long alone and not know how to kill.

“My name...” the man said, slowly and drawing it out in a raspy voice, “is not your concern. I’m the Last Man of Last Town. That’s all you need to know.”

“What do you want from us, Last Man?” Anna asked.

The Last Man stood as still as a statue.

“For you to leave,” he said. “No man can walk inside these walls. I drove the Reapers out, and I will drive
you
out.”

The man didn’t seem to be concerned with the fact that we had a spaceship. That seemed strange in itself. It meant that nothing was important to him but what he said. He wanted us out.

“We’re leaving now,” Anna said.

The man’s eyes focused on Anna.

“I know your face,” he said. “But I don’t know from where.”

Anna looked at him, not letting her guard down. “Did you live here, Last Man?”

The man gave the slightest of nods. “Yes. They all died. I remember it like yesterday. I left this place a village, and returned to find it a graveyard.”

“What is your name, Last Man?” Anna said. “I lived here a long time ago, but haven’t been back until today.”

“Yours first, girl,” the man said, in a harsh tone. “I tire of people and their tricks.”

“Anna,” he said. “My mother was Heather. My father, Ben. We lived at the crossways. The north side.”

The man was silent for a long time. His posture relaxed, ever so slightly. But he was by no means less dangerous.

“Yes. You’re Ben’s girl, alright. You have his eyes. His fierceness. There’s no doubting it.” He spat at the ground. “Ben’s dead, now. I thought you were, too.”

“Now tell me who
you
are.”

“Victor.”

“Victor,” Anna said. “I don’t know that name.”

“Few did,” Victor said. “I was a hunter, far away from the town. It doesn’t surprise me I escaped your notice. But if ever you ate some wild game in this place...it might have been by my shot that it came to be.”

“And you live here, in this place?” Anna asked.

Victor shrugged. “It is better than the west, with the Reapers. And better than the east, with its death. Here, there is a spring, and food in the hills for a man who knows where to look.”

“And what do you do, when you’re not hunting game?” Anna asked.

“I hunt men. Reapers, mostly. I hunt them where I find them. I think they avoid this place, now. They say it’s haunted.”

Victor gave the tiniest trace of a smile.

“There will be plenty of Reapers today,” I said. “They’re coming from Los Angeles.”

“Why?”

“They are making a final stand,” Anna said. “The Empire. The Angels. The Reapers. If that stand isn’t made together, then the monsters will win.”

Victor gave a bitter laugh. “Angels. An Angel hasn’t walked this town in five years.”

“The Angels have reformed,” I said. “We’re three of them.”

“Is that so?” Victor gave us an appraising look, but it was hard to tell whether or not he approved. “No true Angel would work with a Reaper.”

“They would,” I said. “If the world were ending.”

The man gave a bitter laugh. “The world has already ended, boy. The Old World has passed, and if one day no man wakes to see the new, I won’t grieve for it. Man, monster, what’s the difference?”

I realized we were speaking with a man who saw no good in this world, who saw no reason to fight for it. There was little we could do to change the mind of such a person. He had suffered more than his share of evils, and those evils had broken him.

“There’s still hope, Victor,” Anna said. “Just as you believed I was dead, in truth, I was alive. Just as you believe that we are all going to die, and that we are deserving of that death, we believe you’re wrong. My friends and I worked hard to get everyone to stand together. Many have died to make it happen. This is our last chance to make a difference, and every man’s support counts. Even yours.”

The man merely stood and watched us. It was hard to guess at his age – he could have been thirty, or sixty. The face was red, wind-chapped, weather-beaten.

After a long while, he nodded.

“So you say.”

“The army will be passing through here this afternoon,” Anna said. “If you change your mind...ask for Char.”

The man looked at Anna for a long time, before giving a slow nod.

She turned to us. “Come on. We should get moving.”

We turned back to the ship. As we ascended the boarding ramp, I looked back one last time. He stood there, the wind blowing the tails of his duster. He raised a single hand in farewell. The eyes were sad. Watchful.

We entered the ship and once more took to the air.

***

W
e flew eastward beyond the mountains, right over the border of the Great Blight. Anna lowered the ship to better survey the xenofungal surface, but the terrain below was empty.

When Anna veered north, Makara’s voice came through the dash.

“Alright. Sam and I have connected the ship’s drive to the Bunker’s grid. We’re en route to Level Three.”

“Copy that,” Anna said,

We continued our recon, scanning the Great Blight in a wide arc. From time to time we’d see evidence of xenolife – crawlers running in small packs, swarms of birds, even a Behemoth or two – but nothing approaching the size of the
Radaskim
horde.

Anna switched frequencies to Augustus’s line.

“Not seeing anything, Augustus,” Anna said. “Just a few crawlers here and there, about what you’d expect from the Great Blight. I think you guys will be good.”

“Copy that. The troops are in eastern L.A. right now. We should make it to the pass this afternoon.”

“Great. Listen...”

Augustus waited, but Anna hesitated to speak. I knew she was about to tell him about the man, Victor. In the end, though, she shook her head.

“Just be careful. You’re clear all the way past the mountains.”

“Thank you, Anna.”

Augustus cut out, and we continued with our recon.

T
hirty minutes later, we still hadn’t heard from Makara or Samuel.

Anna, Julian, and I watched the Great Blight from an altitude of two thousand feet

“We should have heard from them by now,” I said.

“I’ll call them again,” Anna said.

Once the line was established, nothing answered but silence. I had no idea why they weren’t picking up.

I was beginning to wonder if some of those Lords had survived...

“Something’s wrong,” I said

“Let me call Michael’s line,” Anna said.

She switched frequencies. “Michael? You have a copy, over?”

Again, silence was the only answer.

“The army won’t be here until nightfall,” Julian said. “Plenty of time to get there and back.”

Anna and I looked at each other. Wasn’t this just overreacting? We were supposed to be watching the Great Blight, but there was nothing here. If Makara, Samuel, and Michael weren’t answering, something might be wrong.

“We
can
be there in an hour,” Anna said, thinking.

“There’s no harm in going to check,” I said.
“Orion
is fast. We’ll be there and back in a couple of hours.”

Anna thought for a moment, at last turning the ship and pointing it to the north. She increased the speed to full, and all of us were pushed back into our seats.

“Hopefully, this is nothing,” she said. “We’ll keep calling as we head north. It’ll take forty-five minutes to get there. If they don’t answer in that time...”

She left the rest unsaid as we sped over the Great Blight.

***

D
uring the journey, we repeatedly called Samuel, Makara, and Michael. Each time, there was no response, and I became increasingly worried.

As we traveled north, the clouds hung gray and heavy over the mountains. Most of the time, we couldn’t see the land below. We kept well above the mountains, only descending once we were close.