It was Vegas, as seen a hundred times in movies and TV, though of course all the lights were down and it was midday only. Still they could pick out the flash of sunlight reflecting off the bizarre themed hotels along the strip. Jake started nattering to Cynthia about all the things he was going to do.
"Dice, of course some dice, then baccarat, is that dice? and we'll catch a show, and poker, of course slot machines, and roulette! How could I forget roulette!"
Cynthia cackled. Maybe she was sweet on Jake? Cerulean chuckled at that. The boy would have to watch out.
Julio kept honking his horn for a long time. That grew annoying quick, dampening everyone's spirits, but soon they were in the thick of the city and he stopped. They rolled all the windows down and hung out of them gawping while Julio led them at a steady pace up through the city's heart.
Anna gasped and pointed as they reached the strip, and the first of its crazy hotels reared its head, The Mirage. "Look at that," she called, awed
Everybody looked. Next was Caesar's Palace, then the grand Bellagio, then Excalibur, the black pyramid of Luxor, until they hit the northern tip and the tilted oval disc of the UFO, crash-landed at a steep angle into the earth.
Masako laughed and pointed at the alien saucer. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"
They all saw it. Drawn across the UFO saucer's silvery surface was the huge figure of a very familiar man: the Nike logo of Michael Jordan, legs spread and in flight, reaching up to the pinnacle of the flying saucer. Underneath the familiar logo had been adapted:
JUST LIVE ON
"I think that's probably copyright infringement," Jake said. Cerulean laughed good and hard, for relief as much as anything. Amo's tag was underneath it.
LMA
It was a vast relief. He hadn't realized how heavily the pressures of dealing with this little troupe had been weighing on him. He'd be more than happy to hand them over to Amo when the chance came. He'd be more than happy to see Amo at all.
He hadn't killed himself yet.
They pulled right up to the saucer's lobby door and bundled out of the RV in a frenzied mob, laughing and hungry like little kids eager to see what goodies Santa Amo had left for them. Even Julio seemed touched by the good cheer.
It was better than any of them had expected. On a big blackboard hanging over the main reception desk were two names written on the same line.
AMO & LARA 07/18/2018
Amo and Lara were together!
Masako came up and took his hand, squeezing tight. There were tears in her eyes. This was hope.
There was all kinds of stuff arrayed on neat tables in the cairn, in addition to the stuff they'd found in previous cairns; sunglasses, swimwear, a map to a clean pool, a pyramid of champagne bottles with crystal glasses nearby. They poured a glass each and everybody clinked glasses and drank some of the hot, bubbly liquid.
"It went up my nose!" Anna charged. Cerulean frowned at Jake, who guiltily took the glass away.
There was a new section of the comic printed out too, detailing Amo's journey west and reunion with Lara, plus a horrible encounter with a zombie-rapist called Don.
Amo killed him and almost died in the process, then Lara nursed him to health. That was only few days ago! They all sat and read through the new pages together, sipping on champagne. Cerulean couldn't help but look up at Julio in the middle of it, while Don was cornering Amo in his battle-tank. Unfortunately Julio looked up and caught his eye at the same time, holding it for a moment.
Cerulean looked away.
They could have stayed there all day, especially after Cynthia reported back that, "The pool's pretty clean, only one dead eagle in it," but now everybody wanted to get on and actually see Amo and Lara in the flesh. So they bundled into the RV and tore off.
Nevada flew by, and Cerulean pushed the RV to 80 miles an hour, so fast the frame rattled and the floor shook, a few times overtaking Julio which he didn't seem too pleased about. By early afternoon they crossed the state line to California, and Masako cued up 'California Dreaming' then played it blasting out at full volume, so loud that Cynthia held her hands to her ears and Anna screamed along to the music and no one could even make out what she was saying.
It was dark as they hit the outskirts of Los Angeles, the sun setting far ahead off the edge of the continent. They slowed through the city's traffic-congested sprawl, all white-cement warehouses and blank condominiums with the stain of humidity and rot blooming at their corners. There were old newspapers blowing everywhere and the smell of salt and old sewage in the air.
They reached the coast in time to catch the last of the sunset off Newport Beach, burning like an orange ember over the waves. Cerulean pulled a hard right and took them tearing north up the Pacific Coast highway, tension burning in the air, leaving Julio trailing behind on the narrow roads.
When they saw the lights of the Chinese Theater up ahead, Amo's longtime destination, they cheered. It was a distant building decked with twinkling fairy lights, and as they wound up the coast and closer still, weaving around a steady tide of gray bodies traipsing down into the water to the left, they could see two figures standing in the Theater's open courtyard.
"Is that them?" Anna asked hungrily. "Is that Amo and Lara?"
Cerulean could hardly answer, his throat was so thick with emotion. He'd never expected to reach this point, had never even wanted it, but now he wanted it more than anything. He wanted to see Amo in the flesh for the first time, and meet his Lara, and hold onto them both.
They were all silent as they pulled up into the flashing Chinese Theater forecourt with Amo and Lara standing there hand in hand. They piled out, Cerulean last out of the back, settling into his wheelchair and readying himself for all the changes that were going to come now.
Then he rolled around the RV's side, and Amo saw him. The look on his face was worth it all, as his jaw dropped and sheer joy shone in his eyes.
"Cerulean!" he shouted, and ran over, dropping to his knees to pull him into a tight embrace. "Goddamn, Cerulean!"
17. SETTLING IN
It was chaos for hours, like a school reunion where nobody really knew anyone though they all shared the same past; the apocalypse had stolen everything from them.
Though they all knew Amo.
He looked much as Cerulean had always imagined, a sensitive hipster wearing the last generation's fashion in baggy cargo shorts and polo shirt, with a scraggy goatee and sandals. The scar on the side of his head where he'd shot himself was prominent, a jagged circle of mottled skin in amongst his dark hair, but he seemed to be the same Amo he'd known in the Yangtze, with warm brown eyes and an easy, confident grin.
To the others he was like an A-list movie star, grinning and laughing at the center of the world.
Cerulean couldn't stop grinning and laughing himself. Anna clung to Amo's pant leg and Cerulean's at the same time, looking up with wild admiration. Jake babbled endlessly like a star-struck fan, about what a stroke of genius the Pac-Man was, about how cool the Nike logo had been. Cynthia asked Amo bluntly what it had felt like to shoot himself in the head, with the respect plain in her rusty old voice. Masako tried to thank him for bringing them hope, but couldn't get the words out for crying.
Of course there was Lara too; shown only briefly in the comics. In real life she was gorgeous, with cream-coffee brown skin, tightly curled black hair in a palm tree-like mass on her head, and a look of deep, relaxed happiness in her swimming blue eyes. She was everything he'd expected and more.
"So you're Cerulean," she said, kneeling before him with a smile and sparkling eyes. "He's talked about little else since we got in."
"Robert, please," he said. "He's been on my mind too. Both of you have been, blazing a trail like Louis and Clark ahead."
She laughed and the sparkle in her eyes became a tear down her cheek, following a well-worn path. She took his hand in both of hers. "I can't believe you're really here," she said. "It's like a dream come true."
He squeezed her hand. "We're really here."
"Come inside!" Amo shouted over the hubbub. "Come on in, we've got a feast ready to throw on."
He stepped to one side, grinning like a madman, and allowed Lara to take the lead.
"This way," she called and started toward the main entrance. Everyone fell into orbit behind her, even Julio, though he'd been loitering round the edges shooting murderous glances at Cerulean throughout the greeting. Even that miserable bastard couldn't ruin this moment.
Amo excused himself from an overzealous Jake and fell in beside Cerulean, speaking in low tones.
"You don't know what this means to me," he said, looking solemnly into Cerulean's eyes. "That you're alive, and you came. After what you did."
Cerulean snorted. "I think I know."
Amo rubbed his eyes. "I suppose you do. I never would have made it this far without all the things you did for me. I would have died in New York without a doubt. I would have killed myself and made it stick." He gestured to the RV and the fairy lights and the Theater. "All this, the cairns, Lara, it all stands on your shoulders."
A chill ran down Cerulean's spine, as far as it could, crunching into the memory of the cold bag of milk left there when Amo shot himself. "I tried to kill myself too," he said, in a quiet and unfamiliar voice. "Almost twice. That I didn't is on your shoulders as well."
Amo grinned down, and squeezed Cerulean's shoulder. "We're stronger together. We always were. I'm so glad you're here."
The bag of cold milk in his belly went away, replaced by something wonderful rising in its place; a happiness and relief like nothing he'd felt before. For a while he couldn't find words, and it seemed Amo couldn't either, because they just looked at each other and walked and rolled.
"I'm glad too!" Anna piped up between them.
Cerulean laughed and patted her head. She came round the side and took both of their hands.
"We're all glad," Amo said. "And I want to hear everything, every bit of your stories, both of you." He pointed at Anna. "I bet you've had some amazing adventures."
She grinned and nodded. "I'll tell you about the puppies!"
Cerulean winced, then they were at the Theater and Lara held the swing doors open. The lobby was a vast, red-carpeted space, festooned with twinkling fairy lights and huge posters for the superhero movie Ragnarok III.
"We've got the movie," Lara announced to them as she headed toward a long row of tables laid out with electric grills, fridges and Nespresso machines, with three generators sitting under them. She grinned widely at the table's edge. "We've got all the movies you could want in brilliant 4K, plus popcorn, beer, food, whatever you need."
Jake cheered. Anna was so excited she was hopping up and down.
They fired up the generators and fell into an easy, dizzy, laughing collaboration to boil up a feast of canned roast beef and fresh asparagus, fry fresh potato slices, grill baby carrots and of course Spam, with onion consommé soup for starters and a melted Hershey bar fountain for dessert. There was beer and champagne on ice and Nespresso and whiskey. Cerulean worked coffees then manned a fry station, while all around people were digging in and contributing like it was 4
th
of July.
Everyone except Julio. Cerulean caught glimpses of him, in between taking snippets of coffee lessons from Lara and guiding Anna in arranging the plates and napkins. He was standing at the doors with his back to them, looking out of the glass as if at any moment he thought an attack was coming.
Cerulean looked away. Screw him, if he couldn't enjoy the best moment any of them had had in the new world.
* * *
They set up makeshift camp beds for everyone in one of the theaters, laid out along the rows of seats like bunks in a dorm room. Anna was on the same row as Cerulean and Masako, then Jake and Cynthia below, Amo and Lara above, and Julio off at the back on his own.
Cerulean, Masako and Anna retired first, followed by Jake and Cynthia hours later, long after Masako and Anna were deep asleep. They wobbled down the aisle arm in arm, lit by yellow glow-in-the-dark nightlights left lying near the exits, shushing each other, abundantly drunk and giggling at every misstep.
Cerulean waited, lying in his clothes with his wheelchair nearby. Soon enough Jake and Cynthia had shushed each other so much they fell asleep, mercifully in separate beds. Amo and Lara followed, whispering and laughing too. They set what was probably a wine bottle on the floor unevenly and it tipped and spilled across the floor with a clank and shush.
Soon enough they too fell asleep. Still Cerulean waited, until there was a sound at the top of the theater and Julio stalked in. By his footsteps Cerulean could tell he was drunk as well. He fumbled his way to his cot and flumped into it.
When finally he was asleep, and the theater was filled with the soft, ocean-like hiss of breathing, Cerulean slipped carefully from his bed and into his chair. He rolled along the row, using a small flashlight to identify Amo, then reached over and tapped him. His groggy face stirred.
"Come on," Cerulean whispered.
"Oh?" Amo said. "OK."
He creaked out of bed and Cerulean led him out.
They sat in the lobby, watching the door to the bedroom theater, drinking water out of bottles.
"It really is good to see you," Amo said.
Cerulean smiled back at him, genuinely happy. This was the same Amo who'd built the Yangtze darkness, who'd most likely initiated the zombie apocalypse, who'd committed awesome crimes then tried to atone with a trail of hope across the country.
His grin was goofy and wolfish. He was clearly drunk and happy. He was a comic boo artist done very good.
"We have to talk," Cerulean said.
"I figured. Shoot."
Cerulean wondered where to start. First things first. "What do you make of Julio?" he asked.