Chapter Twenty #2
The silence continues long after Leon speaks, and Zeke quietly joins us as the muteness finally breaks with a new voice.
“Faulkner, let’s be frank. I’m going to need more details on the prize.” Static veils the voice as he says, “Can you confirm the situation?”
Leon raises his brows. “Yes, sir. Marauders ambushed us. They have been taken care of, but we feel it’s best to get to one of our charters. At least until you’re ready to receive the assignment.”
All of us now gather around the phone, leaning in to listen.
“Faulkner, let me reiterate the importance of the assignment arriving safe and undamaged at all costs. We are setting up a meet point for you to head to. From here, we will escort you to the final destination…” The voice stops as muffled whispers sound in the call’s background.
“Faulkner, please confirm your next location.”
Leon looks up at Atlas and Zeke, holding his hand over the receiver. They lightly mouth to each other before he responds. “The Montgomery charter, sir. We’ll be there by nightfall.”
Another long pause follows.
“Let us know when you cross into South Dakota,” the voice says. “We’ll meet you there.”
We set off for a day of travelling, zigzagging through the roads to avoid as many ranger hotspots as possible, which doubles our journey’s miles.
I perch on the back of Leon’s bike, lightly holding on, watching the world whizz by while the heat permeates through my leather jacket, with the cool wind drifting over me.
We travel as close to the Red Zone as possible, where most of the coast has been marked uninhabitable, no longer under the government’s jurisdiction and only patrolled by cameras.
After a few hours, we stop to rest and refuel, and I pull off my helmet to air out my wild locks, but my mouth drops at the view before me.
The edge of the road drops off, revealing a mountainside carpeted in trees below us.
The thick forest leads up and bleeds into a city with roads and bridges melting into the earth, birthing green life from the cracks and crumbled scraps.
Sunlight catches on the little glass that remains, while the fragmented structures leave their twisted iron skeletons exposed to the earth, breathing plumes of smoke into the crystalline sky.
A red-glassed building stands strong, looking unspoiled, while buildings on either side of it have fallen like dominoes, resting on one another as they erode.
Sometimes, I forget the world was once a different way, not yet claimed by destruction and darkness, but here, this city’s corpse remains.
“Hey, kid. Come over. We need to talk.” Leon waves to me as I creep from the verge of the road. They’ve been whispering—again.
My face droops, preparing for bad news as they look at me pityingly.
“Oh no. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just important, you know, okay?
” I nod as Leon rhythmically drums his fingers across his tobacco tin.
“So … we didn’t lead with this when we first met, and then it got awkward to reveal to you…
Anyway, the community we’re a part of, I didn’t explain further, in case you thought—”
Zeke interjects nervously. “We didn’t want you to think we were criminals.”
I scrunch my brows, waiting for more.
“Yeah,” Leon says. “So, that community is a club. A motorcycle club. Our fathers were in it. That’s how we all met, and we joined as soon as we were old enough.”
My face stays unchanged as I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. “That’s it?!” They look sheepish among themselves, and I sweep my hair from my flustered face. “Jeez, Leon. I thought it was something serious!”
“Well, yeah. Since you ran away when we first picked you up, we figured because of our tats and bikes, you assumed—”
“You think that’s why I ran?!” I shake my head, chuckling at them.
“Well … yeah. We—”
“No, no. It wasn’t that. I was certain Joey had sent for you.
I hadn’t put much thought into anything else, thinking he would be waiting for me outside those walls, and when I stood in those dark woods, in front of you all …
I panicked, thinking I’d been lured into a dangerous situation by my desperation. ”
Atlas asks, “Well, how do you know the employer isn’t Joey?”
“I saw him get taken away. I know that now. He’s not free. His family’s farm is not in South Dakota. It isn’t him.” I stare down at the band around my thumb, aching for him.
Zeke asks, eager to lift my hopes, “What about your family? Mom? Dad?”
“Their farm is down south. Again, not South Dakota.”
Between themselves, they look confused. Leon says, “Well, we know nothing yet. It could be days before we get there, anyway.”
He’s trying to dismiss the negativity with his toothy grin, but I’m not convinced. I think about sharing something about myself, blurting out the entire truth, but when my mouth parts to speak, I shoot my head down to stop myself.
“Hey, what is it?” he asks, stepping off his bike and towards me.
“I don’t know. I can’t say everything, but … listen. If it’s not Joey, and it’s not my family, there are … other people.” My lips lock tight; I fear I’ve said too much.
“What people?”
“Just … promise me? If I don’t recognise who’s waiting for me in South Dakota, promise me you’ll take me away? Don’t leave me with them.”
He comes by my side, curling his arm around me. “I promise, kid.”
Our second leg of the journey becomes a race while the sun threatens to set in the sky.
I spend the journey thinking about the voice on the phone, wondering what life is waiting for me in South Dakota.
The guys can sense my nerves—and for as much as Atlas was bitching about Leon getting too close this morning, they end up elaborating on their lives.
They were raised by the motorcycle club in Southern California, and like everyone else, they moved inland during the war, where their family set up the Montgomery charter.
Them returning here is a big deal, and we agree to keep my gender a secret as they sneak me in without the club president knowing.
The obsidian movements of birds and the opaque silhouettes of the trees are like a shadow puppet display against the mandarin sky, the sinking sun extinguishing like a tired flame.
The Wilds offer no signs of civilization, until I see it on the horizon.
Not quite the grandeur of the government’s cities, but it’s impressive for a community, and I gawk in awe at all the harvested tall tree trunks arranged tight and vertical to create a wall encircling the area’s perimeter.
Spotlights beam, following us along the dusty path, with silhouettes moving atop the wall, only visible from the waist up as they patrol the fence.
We stop beneath the gate’s lights, leaving the engines running, and I shield my eyes with my forearm.
“Name and purpose!” a voice from above bellows.
Leon pulls off his hat, with Atlas and Zeke following with their helmets.
Revealing their faces is more than enough.
The lights are dropped, and the shadows clamour at their arrival.
The gates groan as they’re manually pulled open, slowly revealing the town as we wheel through.
The place looks like something out of a movie—an actual town, with rows of streets lit by real streetlamps.
In the parking lot by the front gate, ninety percent of the vehicles are motorbikes, lined up like figures in a play set.
I swiftly switch my helmet for a baseball cap before they box me in as we walk into the town.
A pair of young men flock towards Leon with beaming faces. “Faulkner! No way, man! We didn’t know you were coming!”
Leon greets them both with an embrace, and the slaps of leather jackets resound as they pat one another on the back. “We didn’t know we were coming, brother. A flying visit.”
“Well, I’ll catch you in a bit, brother. Atlas! Zeke!” they call, waving to them as we move on.
It is standard procedure for nomads to visit the club president as soon as they arrive, so they plan to drop me off with Atlas’s family to avoid questions.
Leon leads as we proceed down the street, and everyone recognises these guys, with many smiles, shouts, and waves.
We turn down another road with a small white mansion at the end, fairy string lights meandering above the avenue of ranch houses with picket fences.
How does this place exist? How has it survived?
I think it can’t get any better when I see a group of women, all a generation older than me, walking down the street, and I have to remember to contain my excitement.
I grab Zeke’s arm, whispering, “You have women here?!”
“After their stint of independence or the R&R facilities, they can come back here. It’s part of the club’s agreement with the government,” he whispers while grinning. “That’s the president’s house.” He points towards the mansion, where the lights are on, with shadows of activity.
“This is Atlas’s mom’s house.” Zeke points at one of the little white houses, only five plots away from the president’s.
We stop at her picket fence gate, and Leon straddles it, standing with his back to the mansion as he helps me over. He smiles and waves at the passersby who notice him, while Zeke leads me along the path, but we all freeze at a shout.
“Leonnnn!” The voice echoes, causing Leon to flinch, as if he’s been physically slapped in the back of the head.
The door of the mansion at the head of the street is open, lighting up a robust guy who fills the doorway.
Leon turns and politely waves as he shouts, “We’ll be with you in a minute, Kinsey!”
“Nah, my boy! Get over here! It’s been too long!” he shouts warmly, but his tone drops. “And don’t forget to bring your friends … all of them!”
“So fucking close,” Atlas mutters while stomping off.
I look at Zeke. “I guess I’m joining you guys, then?”
“Yup. Looks like it. I hope you can handle drama. Otherwise, this will be hell.”