Prophet's Journey Page 2

  The building beside it had metal letters on the wall above the window. It looked like other parts had been there before, but broken, leaving only the words ‘nkin onut’.

  She struggled to say it a few times, but gave up and kept walking down the street.

  A man with long black hair, white shirt, and pants made of squealer hide leapt out of a doorway a distance ahead and ran for an alley that led toward the center of the village.

  He raised a hand in greeting. “Hi, Althea.”

  She grinned, knowing she’d seen him before but unable to recall his name, and waved back at him right as he disappeared behind an old store that now served as a home for three families.

  “Althea,” said the man from the alley. He trotted backward into view, staring at her like he couldn’t believe his eyes. “There you are.”

  “Here I am.” She flapped her arms out to the sides and let them fall.

  “I was just runnin’ to find you.” The man jogged up to within a few paces of her. “My little brother Luciano’s hurt. His leg.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  He hurried back down the street to the building he’d emerged from, nearing tearing the door off its hinges on the way inside. She raced in after him, entering what had years ago been a giant open space. Flimsy wooden walls or sheets of thin metal divided it into separate rooms, mostly empty at this hour of the day. Children would be in school, adults at their job things, and the old people mostly all sat around at Tumbleweed’s, drinking that pungent orange stuff that made it hard to walk—or even stay standing upright.

  The man ducked past an old sheet hung as a door over a hole in a barrier of corrugated metal.

  “Nicolás!” yelled an older woman, who proceeded to erupt in rapid-fire Spanish, too fast for Althea to fully understand.

  Up to age five, as best Althea could remember, she’d lived at a nice village with people who predominantly spoke Spanish. The Wagon Man had abducted her and dragged her all over the Badlands. He mostly spoke English. Scrags, settlers, and raiders farther north generally favored English, while the more southerly people spoke Spanish. As Father explained, her being dragged ‘all the hell over the place’ left her with a language part English, part Spanish, and part ‘made up.’ If people spoke too fast in English or Spanish, she’d end up confused… though she’d long ago gotten into the habit of reading their minds without even realizing it to understand their meaning even if she didn’t grasp the words.

  She pulled the sheet aside and crept into the room, standing demurely at the edge while a sixtyish woman angrily scolded the man. Althea managed to pick up that his grandmother believed he’d ignored her request to go find her because he’d come back so fast.

  “Excuse me,” said Althea.

  The old woman glanced at her and froze statue still, a look of shock on her face.

  “Luciano is hurt?” Althea padded into the room. “Where is he?”

  “She was right outside. I didn’t have to go anywhere to find her.” Nicolás gestured at the door, then pointed at a cot at the back corner of the room. “He’s there.”

  Althea ducked around the grandmother, scurrying over to the old olive drab bed covered in a mishmash of blankets made from ancient shirts sewn together. The Zero police had been supplying Querq with some ‘modern’ things, but the fancy stuff hadn’t spread everywhere yet.

  A younger man, not quite twenty, lay in the cot, his left leg—or what remained of it—hanging over the side. Someone had improvised a tourniquet below the knee, a few inches above where the limb ended in a tatter of ripped up muscle and splintered bone. An alarmingly big pool of blood covered the floor beside the bed, still dripping from the leg.

  He moaned, lost to the delirium of pain.

  “Bonedog,” whispered Althea before kneeling, sitting back on her heels, and grasping the damaged limb in both hands.

  She closed her eyes, concentrating on the sense of his life essence. Amid the void of darkness, a red silhouette faded into view, cut short at the point the leg had been severed. With a brief glance up toward his thought-shape, she commanded it to cease registering pain. In response, the tense muscles in his calf relaxed in her grip, and the whitish forms of his air bags shrank.

  His body responded to her power, new muscle growing over new bone. Althea clenched her jaw, pouring her psionic energy into Luciano. Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, the missing half-leg gradually reappeared. She vaguely noticed a distant yell and a heavy thud shake the floor under her.

  Once his toes finished growing, Althea relaxed her concentration but didn’t break the link. The effort to make his leg regrow had winded her like a hard sprint all the way across Querq. She paused for a few seconds to catch her breath, then checked over his life shapes to make sure he had no other hurts. A few shallow cuts marked his arms, which she fixed before coaxing his body to expel several pieces of concrete debris embedded in his other leg. Nothing else appeared wrong, so she started to release the link—but stopped herself.

  A bonedog bit him. He’s gonna have a sick. They always give people sicks.

  In her mind’s eye, she floated like a little bug around a giant body, searching over his various life-shapes. Eventually, she noticed a thin yellow thread drifting within the blood-presence.

  She commanded his body to purge itself of the sick. The wispy thread of disease migrated around at her urging, gathering in Luciano’s bladder. Fortunately, he hadn’t been attacked very long ago, and the sick didn’t have the time to grow and spread everywhere.

  Confident no more hurts or sicks remained, she released her link and opened her eyes. Nicolás crouched beside her, one gentle hand at her back she hadn’t noticed before. The twenty-something man wept like a small boy, grinning from ear to ear while staring at his younger brother’s intact—and somewhat pink—lower left leg.

  “Is someone else hurt?” asked Althea.

  “No, child.” Nicolás slid his hand to her shoulder and pulled her into a hug. “We will be forever grateful.” He radiated so much awe and gratitude it made Althea uncomfortable. It made her feel ashamed of herself when people worshiped her. Though, he didn’t take it that far.

  “Did something heavy fall?” She peered down at her knees, surrounded in blood that had dribbled from the formerly shredded leg.

  “Our grandmother fainted when Luciano’s leg began to grow.” Nicolás wiped at his tears with the back of his arm and chuckled. “She is all right.”

  Althea nodded, then stood, peering at her legs, smeared in blood from the knees down. It didn’t bother her. She’d ended up far dirtier than that many times. Some raider groups that captured her had been so violent, she’d end up covered head to toe in gore by the time she passed out in exhaustion from healing them. Grown men would occasionally throw up from watching her grab life shapes that had fallen out of their friends and stuff the bits back inside with her hands. More than once, after she finished making all the hurts go away following a vicious raid, she’d look like she’d gone for a swim in a bathtub of blood. At least back then she didn’t have any clothes to get dirty. Blood didn’t like to wash out of clothes. Few tribal Scrags who lived where the weather remained warm all year round bothered to waste energy on making or scavenging things to wear.

  Karina might be upset with her for getting some blood on the bottom of her dress, but Althea kept forgetting to be careful whenever someone needed help. Dirty didn’t matter—helping people did.

  “Gah!” Luciano sat up, grabbing himself between the legs.

  She pointed at the door. “You had a sick. You need to let it out.”

  The younger man groaned, nodded, and dragged himself out the back door. She endured several minutes of exuberant hugging from Nicolás and his grandmother until Luciano returned and joined in the embrace.

  “You are truly an angel,” said Luciano.

  She giggled, thinking about what Aurora told her. “Only like half.”

  “Aww.” Grandmother kissed her atop the head. “You are so precious.”

  The brothers got into a mild argument over Luciano going into the Old City on his own, even if he had become old enough to go scavenge. Althea stood there, looking up at the men, turning her head back and forth like she watched two boys throwing a ball to follow their debate.

  “Just a bonedog,” said Luciano. “I would’ve been okay, but I fell.”

  Nicolás shook his head. “And what happens next time? The fiends are becoming bolder, angrier, and there are a lot more of them.”

  “The Watch should go out there and clean it up,” muttered Grandmother.

  Althea fidgeted. While bonedogs were a menace to people, and they likely had more than a little dark energy to them, she still thought of them as animals. The idea of the Watch going out there to kill them off bothered her. Of course, the Old City held worse dangers than simple bonedogs. The Many dwelled in the dark abandoned places of the Badlands, embodying half-living creatures like bonedogs or attracting mutated monsters like the part-living part-machine canids, massive roaches, or other horrors she had only heard of as rumor.

  After what happened nine weeks ago, she figured The Many would be angry with her. Though she had chased him off, and had no desire to destroy him, he probably wanted to attack her again. Creatures massing in the Old City sounded like him being angry with her. Instead of the Watch going out there to shoot animals, maybe she could try doing the same thing she’d done when he had last confronted her. If she radiated enough of that white light she could make, perhaps the bonedogs and other monsters would find somewhere else to go, and no one would have to do any shooting.

  She sighed silently out her nose. All she’d ever wanted was to help everyone she could. Why did The Many hate her so much?

  “Please tell that father of yours that we are concerned about the dogs,” said Grandmother.

  “I will.” Althea smiled up at her. “I should really go do the learning. Father wants me to.”

  Another round of hugs and head-pats later, she headed out the door, hooked left, and fast-walked to the end of the block. Guilt needled at her heels, urging her home as fast as possible so she could do the learning she’d been avoiding.

  At the spot where the narrow ‘people road’ bent a corner to the left, she encountered a strange object that resembled a creature with a broad octagonal face and no arms, only one stick for a body. She’d seen them here and there before for years, but only now did it occur to her that it had frozen speech on it. Prior to her being forced to suffer with the learning machine, she had no idea the white marks had any meaning.

  Curious, she stood on tiptoe and examined the four letters.

  “S-t-o-p. Sah-toe-pee?” She scratched her head. “No, that doesn’t sound like a real word. “Stoop? Umm. I don’t think that’s right either. Need two round ones together to make an oo. Stope?” She scrunched her eyebrows in thought. Never in her life had she ever heard anyone say ‘stope.’ Soap, yes. But not stope. A few seconds of staring later, she grinned. “Stop!”

  The sign didn’t react.

  “Umm. Okay.” She looked down at her blood-smeared feet. “I stopped.”

  Minutes passed. Althea stared at the sign expectantly. It still didn’t say anything, so she kept waiting. After a while, she noticed the need to make water—pee as Karina called it—but the sign hadn’t done anything… so she held it and kept standing there. Minutes later, she glanced at the lengthening shadow on the road and whined.

  “Please? Can I go?” Althea squirmed, biting her lip. “Water wants out.”

  The sign didn’t change.

  After another few minutes, she gave serious consideration to simply letting the water out where she stood. Before she could make a decision, the scratch of boots approached from behind. She twisted to look at a man in a flannel shirt and jeans carrying one of the new city rifles the Zero police had brought here to protect the city.

  Recognizing him as a member of the Watch, she waved with a big smile. “Hi, Miguel!”

  “Hello, Althea.” He started to smile, but his expression became one of concern. “You okay? That blood all over your legs?”

  “Yes. Luciano was hurt and I sat in blood on the floor while making his hurt go away. I’m going home now.”

  “All right, sweetie.” He started to walk off, but paused, raising an eyebrow at her.

  She resumed watching the sign, but glanced over at Miguel when he continued to stare at her.

  “Are you going home?” asked Miguel.

  “Yes.”

  He scratched his chin. “Why are you just standing there?”

  Althea pointed at the sign. “It told me to stop. And it didn’t tell me I can go yet.”

  Miguel burst into laughter. She tilted her head in confusion. The look she gave him made him laugh harder, tears streaming from his eyes. Since he couldn’t talk past his laughter, she peered into his thoughts. He’d never seen anyone actually stop for one of those old signs, and had no idea why the Ancients even made them. They certainly didn’t mean for people to just stand there… and he thought of her as beyond adorable.

  Althea blushed, feeling a little dumb. “Umm. Oops.”

  Miguel patted her on the back. “Thanks. I haven’t had a laugh like that in years.”

  She looked down. “I thought it wanted me to stop.”

  “Aww. It’s okay. Go on home.”

  “I will!” She smiled at him and hurried off down the street, running as fast as her need to make water allowed.

  Upon arriving home, she raced to the bathroom and jumped on the strange chair with the water in the bottom. It still felt weird to sit on something while making water, but Karina and Father wanted her to use the thing they called ‘toilet,’ so she did. After, she wet a cloth at the sink and washed the blood from her legs and feet, then scrambled back downstairs to the couch where the annoying learning machine waited.

  She flopped on the cushion, picked the book-sized thin plastic slab up, and swiped her finger at the top. A ghost of a blue cartoon rabbit appeared—a hologram according to the Zero police, who had strange words for everything. It rotated a few times before smiling at her.

  “Welcome back, Althea!”

  The rabbit changed into a picture of a classroom. Frozen speech on the ‘chalkboard’ read: ‘Reading and Spelling – Grade 2 ages 6 to 8.’ Althea frowned, mostly at herself, but a little at the machine for making fun of her again. Much younger children than her did ‘grade two,’ but she still struggled with it. That made her feel stupid.

  She really wanted to learn from a person, not a machine. Or at least have some time each day to learn from a person and then deal with this machine afterward.

  A crowd of children’s voices approached outside, then, rapid thudding of feet on the porch. After three knocks, the door opened and Kim poked her head in, black hair hanging long to one side due to her leaning so far over. The thirteen-year-old had been one of the kids Archon rounded up for his gang. They’d met when she’d been ordered to bring Althea food. Kim didn’t dislike the big city in the west like Althea did, but she also had nothing there to go back to. Her father was something called a senator, which meant he hated her for being psionic. The former city girl who’d grown up in the modern world now looked like most other kids in Querq, barefoot in a plain dress.

  “Hey, Thea. Wanna play.” She held up a dingy white ball.

  Althea glanced at the teaching machine. Father would be disappointed in her if she didn’t put in her time on it, but she had mended Luciano’s leg. Even if she’d gone straight home from the farm, she wouldn’t have been able to do much learning before Nicolás arrived to ask for help. The stop sign ate an embarrassingly long amount of time… but.

  She also wanted a living teacher. And she’d been alone far too long today.

  Father would understand… and she could still do her learning time after dinner.

  “Yeah!” Althea turned off the electronic pad dropped it on the cushion, then ran off to play with her friends.

  3

  Picnic

  Althea played soccer with her friends until the daylight began to weaken. One by one, parents or older siblings called children home. Eventually, Karina’s voice carried over the buildings, looking for her.

  She waved to the other kids and ran off, racing down the road, over a dirt lot, and through a narrow gap between two patchwork houses to the street her house sat on. Karina waited on the porch, hands cupped over her mouth, still shouting her name every ten seconds.

  Althea sprinted into a hug.

  “Where have you been?” Karina spun her around once and set her down on her feet. “Is that blood on your dress?”

  “Yes.” Althea gripped the hem and pulled the fabric taut. “Luciano went into the Old City. A bonedog bit him.”

  Karina shivered. “You didn’t go out there?!”

  “No.” On the way to the kitchen to wash her hands, Althea explained how her day had gone, including confessing to not doing her electronic learning.

  Fortunately, the stop sign incident made Karina laugh too much to chide her for avoiding the lesson. Father walked in to find them clinging to the kitchen counter to keep from falling over from a severe case of the giggles. He paused in the doorway, watching with two raised eyebrows for a moment before grinning and crossing the room to hug them.

  “It is wonderful to see my daughters so happy.” He, too, noticed the blood on the white dress. “Thea? What happened?”

  Althea repeated her explanation while helping Karina assemble enchiladas. Father looked down and sighed at her confession about not doing schoolwork, though he did chuckle at the stop sign story.

  “I’m going to have the learning after dinner. Why do I have to use it? Can I please have a person teach me?” It would be as simple as making raiders leave her alone to force the Ravens—the town elders in their big black robes—to let her attend the school, but doing that didn’t feel right.