Chapter 6 #2
“The Fork is about a day and a half south by wheels. Highhold is another day east of the Fork.”
I’d tried to keep track of where we were for a while after Juck found me.
I’d paid attention to town names and garrisons like Wolf taught me.
But after five or six years, I started slipping.
After ten, I didn’t even try. I was too busy monitoring every twitch, glance, and shift in Juck’s breathing to worry about escape routes.
Now, I was scrambling to piece together a map in my head. It took me a few seconds to remember the name of the town where they’d found me. “That close to Berk?”
“Kinda. Berk’s about a day southeast of the Fork, but folks only travel to Berk if they’re looking to hire a mercenary or desperate enough to work in the mine.”
Outside I heard Trey laugh, and the warmth of it washed over me. I wanted—no, I needed to know this information for my escape. That’s why I asked. Not because I wanted to know anything about them. “How many Safeguard crews are there?”
“We’re down to two now. Mac’s crew and Hawk’s crew. We had a third, but they went on a mission, and, well, none of ’em came back.”
The Reapers had often clashed with small crews.
Usually over resources, but sometimes all it took was a stupid argument.
Frequently they attacked small crews for fun or to blow off steam.
I wasn’t sure how it worked here in the mountains, but in the desert, the empty spaces between garrisons were ripe for the taking.
Few warlords had the manpower to spare guards to patrol their borders.
The Reapers and other gangs like them made those empty spaces their bread and butter, picking off convoys, stealing resources, or transporting goods.
Power shifted daily, and violence was the only stable currency.
That is, until Juck changed everything with his immortality.
The Reapers quickly rose to the top and stayed there, ruling the desert for the past decade. Thanks to me.
“Now that you’re here, we won’t have to make so many trips to get medicine or medical supplies,” the man continued. “That’s always been our biggest need. Once the snow falls, it’s pretty impossible to get in and out of here, so we gotta stock up for winter.”
I tucked that bit of info away, too. If I wanted to escape, I’d have to do it before winter or wait until the snow melted.
I rattled off instructions for how to keep his wound clean and he thanked me before heading out to chat with my guards.
Trey and Sam had both stripped off their shirts, and my eyes lingered on them.
I’d seen countless bodies working as a healer; I should be immune to getting distracted by them.
But I couldn’t help admiring their muscled bodies gleaming with sweat in the sunshine.
They were both handsome, but my eyes kept straying to Trey.
From this distance, I couldn’t see the scar on Trey’s stomach, but I knew it existed.
I wondered, if I ran my hands across his tanned skin, would I feel it beneath my fingertips?
I gave myself a firm mental shake and forced myself to get back to work.
—
Almost two weeks passed before Trey came in one morning and told me we were taking a tour of the Vault. I frowned, trying to hide my anxiety. Trey hadn’t given me any reasons to be afraid of him, but that sort of command sent alarm bells blaring in my head.
“I’m busy,” I said.
“C’mon,” he replied, “you need to know where everything is.”
“I don’t care.”
“I got a couple horses all ready,” he continued like I wasn’t digging my heels in.
“I’m not going.”
He sighed. “Bones, please. Mac asked me to do this, and I really don’t want to force you.”
But I will if I have to. I heard the unspoken subtext. I glared at him for a few more seconds, debating fighting out of sheer stubbornness.
Choose your battles, Wolf barked in my head.
“Fine,” I said through my teeth.
He let out a breath, his eyes brightening again. “Alright, let’s go.”
I followed him outside where two horses waited, already saddled up.
I paused nervously. I knew I’d ridden a horse with Trey when I first got here, but I’d been unconscious for most of it.
I didn’t have any experience with horses.
Not many people had them in the desert. Finding enough food for them proved difficult and most people owned bikes.
Scavenging machine parts didn’t take much work, and thanks to the boiling sun, the solar panels that powered the engines stayed charged.
Trey noticed I’d stopped. “You comin’?”
I swallowed my pride. “I don’t know how to ride a horse.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes, and he smiled that gentle smile. “Oh! Well, I’ll teach you. C’mere.”
I followed him over, feeling more nervous as we got closer and I realized exactly how big the horses were.
“This one is Violet, and the golden palomino is Marigold.” He gestured to the two horses. Marigold lowered her head and nudged Trey in a move that seemed affectionate. “You’re riding Violet. She’s very gentle.”
The dark brown horse swung her head toward me, and I stopped in my tracks.
“You’re okay,” Trey said. “She wants to say hello. Here, hold your hand out, like this.” He demonstrated, offering the back of his palm to the horse, who sniffed it.
He took my hand and tugged me forward. Heart pounding, I held out my free hand like he did, and the horse’s whiskers tickled my skin as she sniffed me.
I stared at those massive hooves and couldn’t help picturing how they could crush a human skull.
Once Violet stopped sniffing, Trey pulled me to the horse’s side.
“Hey, Vi,” Trey said in a calm, even voice as he stroked the horse’s shoulder. He set my hand on the horse’s flank. “You try.”
I stroked her warm, soft coat. Violet swung her head back again, huffing at my shirt.
“Don’t approach a horse from behind. I mean, Vi will be good ’cause she’s gentle, but some horses will feel threatened.
” Trey gave a wry smile. “Trust me, it’s a real good way to get kicked.
Now that you’ve greeted the horse, you can mount up.
This part of the saddle is called the horn.
You hold on to this, put your foot here in the stirrup, and then push up and swing your other leg over.
To get off, you do the same thing in reverse.
” He demonstrated, moving with a practiced ease. “Your turn.”
Violet ignored us and snagged a mouthful of grass.
I had to stand on my tiptoes to reach the horn, but I managed.
I got my boot in the stirrup, a little awkwardly, then pulled myself up the way Trey had done.
I wasn’t as fluid as Trey, but I did it, a flutter of accomplishment coming to life in my chest.
“Nice.” Trey grinned up at me. “Here, I’ll change the stirrups. Your legs are a bit shorter than mine.”
He adjusted the straps until I could reach more easily. He slipped them back on my feet and surveyed me.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. “Fine?”
He chuckled. “Shoulda seen that one comin’.” He grabbed the reins and handed them to me. “Hold these with one hand. Keep ’em loose. You don’t need to worry too much about steering ’cause Violet will follow me, but all you do is move your hand with the reins in the direction you want her to go.”
He mounted Marigold, taking the reins and checking on me one more time. “When you want the horse to go, squeeze gently with your legs or tap with your heels. Don’t kick ’em unless you want ’em to take off. To stop, pull back on the reins like this.” He showed me. “Ready?”
I wasn’t sure, but I nodded anyway. He grinned and Marigold started out, Violet following along behind.
Fluffy clouds filled the sky, and the breeze was pleasantly chilly, carrying the sharp scent of pine with it.
Birds sang in the trees and chickens clucked on the ground.
Drops of dew coated the grass, sparkling in the sunlight.
We took a left toward the main gate, and hope fluttered for a moment. Were we going outside the hold?
“This is the main gate,” Trey said, stopping in front of it. “There’s only two. This one and a smaller one on the other side of the Vault.”
A dozen armed guards watched us. Trey waved, greeted a few by name, and quickly got pulled into a conversation.
My hope of going outside the wall died. I stayed quiet.
The massive gate was made from a giant sheet of dull grey metal like the walls.
One person wouldn’t be able to open that thing.
There had to be some sort of pulley system.
I wanted to look closer, but a few of the guards noted me studying the gate.
I quickly glanced away toward the horrible watchtower looming over the entire hold from a small central hill.
The enormous concrete cylinder had outlived whatever world it had been built for.
While other buildings sagged or showed the scars of repair, the watchtower stood solid.
It wasn’t hard to tell which structures came from the Before. They were built from all the same material with lines too straight to be guesswork. Decorative designs were carved into the woodwork. The newer buildings were practical, hurried, and slapped together from scavenged parts.
Relics from Before always stood out like a sore thumb, wasteful in ways survivors could never afford.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ in a place like this?”
I startled and Violet startled with me, sidestepping. One of the guards had approached.
“Whoa, sorry.” The man raised his hands, chuckling.
He looked to be in his thirties, and while his expression was pleasant enough, his energy made me nervous. His thin face reminded me of a weasel.
“Bones, right?” he finally asked when I didn’t say anything. “I’m Lem.”
I gave a short nod, hoping that would satisfy him. He grinned, grabbing Violet’s reins in a move that made me tense.
“How are you doin’ this morning?” He rested his free hand on my knee.