A City Called Smoke: The Territory 2 (7 page)

Not long after they’d agreed to let Nim join them Squid woke from a doze to find the Nomad boy sitting a short distance away. He was holding something in his hand, turning it over and examining it. Squid’s hand shot to his neck. His key was gone.

“That’s mine,” Squid said, quickly climbing to his feet.

“I know,” Nim said without moving. “I was just having a look. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

Squid lunged for his key but Nim pulled his hand back, moving it out of Squid’s reach. He stood, holding the key aloft as Squid made a second attempt to grab it.

“Give it back!” Squid knew his voice betrayed the desperation he felt.

“Hey, hey,” Nim said, almost smiling. “You need to calm down, mate. I’m not gonna hurt it. I’m only having a look.”

“I didn’t say you could look at it, did I?” Squid said.

“What’s going on?” Lynn asked, turning to look at them from where she sat, legs dangling out the door. Her eyes flicked to the green key dangling tauntingly from Nim’s hand. “Come on, Nim,” she said. “That was his mother’s, give it back.”

“How did you even get it?” Squid asked.

“You sleep too soundly,” Nim said. “Not the safest way to sleep out here.”

Squid reached for his key once more but again Nim moved it away teasingly. Squid stared at him, his face turning hot. He had wanted to like this boy, wanted to learn more about the Nomads from him, and had stupidly thought that maybe Nim would be a friend, but he just seemed like the other kids in Dust and the other Scants at the Academy. At this moment he reminded Squid of Darius, how he was when they’d first met, not the Darius Squid wanted to remember.

Squid turned, looking to where his and Lynn’s shortswords were lying on top of a wooden crate. He strode toward them and pulled his sword from its sheath, spinning to point its shining blade at Nim. He stood with the sword in his left hand, left foot forward, just as Lynn had taught him at the Academy.

“Give it back,” Squid said.

Lynn was beside him quickly, her hand resting on his sword arm. “It’s okay, Squid,” she said, her voice low and calm. She turned to look at Nim. “He’s just being an idiot.”

Nim looked at Lynn. Then he shrugged before tossing the key through the air to Squid, who caught it clumsily in his right hand, lowering the sword. Squid continued to glare at Nim as Lynn took the sword from him and he slipped his most prized possession back around his neck.

“What does the writing on it mean?” Nim asked.

Squid looked at the scratched and worn body of the key. He had stared at it for almost his entire life and had never been able to make sense of the nearly illegible letters that had once been etched into the side. He had studied them for a long time, countless hours in the dying light of his little outhouse on his uncle’s farm. It looked as though the letters spelled “ACDC”, though that didn’t make any sense. That wasn’t a word, at least not any word that he knew.

Squid didn’t answer. He just glared at Nim with the most intimidating look he could muster.

“All right, you two,” Lynn said, “that’s enough. Squid, you’ve got your key back and I’m sure Nim didn’t mean any harm.”

“Don’t touch it again,” Squid said, slipping the key back inside the collar of his shirt. He turned and walked to the darkest corner of the trailer where he sat against the wall, suddenly wary of their new companion.

“Listen,” Lynn said to Nim, “if you want to come with us we need to trust you and you haven’t started well.”

“I’m sorry,” Nim said. “I was just messing around.”

Squid didn’t think he sounded all that genuine.

“Maybe it’s best if you don’t come with us,” Lynn said.

“Fine,” Nim answered, his voice low, “if you want to know about me I’ll tell you.”

He sat down on the wooden floor of the trailer and indicated with an open palm for Lynn to join him. She did. Squid didn’t move any closer but watched him carefully.

“This is how my mob does it,” he said. “We tell stories. But giving away your story is a sacred thing. You want mine, you need to understand it means you get a part of me and you need to share your story in return.”

Lynn nodded. “Okay,” she said. “That sounds fair.”

Nim looked from Squid to Lynn and then started speaking. “I was born in the early morning under a gum tree in the Western Ranges, ten minutes after my twin sister Nara. A little less than two weeks ago Nara was killed by a ghoul.”

Nim shared the story of losing his sister, and Squid noticed Lynn’s face soften at this. Eventually Lynn told him of losing her father. Squid remained where he was and said nothing. He knew he could have joined in and shared his feelings about losing his uncle, but he didn’t want to – not because he felt like he couldn’t talk about it, just because he didn’t want to talk to Nim about anything.

Squid felt bad for Nim, of course. He didn’t know what it was like to have a sibling, let alone a twin. Lynn was the closest thing he had to a sister, and he couldn’t imagine how he would feel if he lost her. Still, Squid was growing progressively more distrustful of Nim and annoyed that Lynn, who just a few hours ago had wanted nothing to do with the newcomer, was now so interested in sharing the details of their lives that she seemed to have forgotten Squid was there at all. But then she turned to him.

“Do you want to tell your story, Squid?” Lynn said, finally reaching out to bring him into the conversation, but he felt like it was too little too late.

“You know it,” Squid said. “You tell him.”

Normally being excluded from a conversation wouldn’t have bothered Squid. He generally preferred to pay attention to things he found more interesting than people, like trying to solve the puzzle of the pattern in the wooden walls, but right now the way Lynn was engaging with Nim was causing his insides to churn.

“All right,” Lynn said, disappointed maybe, but not so much that she did anything but turn back to Nim. “Maybe you’ll tell him about it later. So, are your tattoos real?” Lynn asked.

“Of course.”

“What do they mean?”

“They’re the story of our mob,” Nim said. “It tells other Nomads which mob you come from and which part of the land you live on.”

“Did it hurt?” Lynn asked.

Nim nodded. “Just feels like being cut. Stings a lot when it’s happening but isn’t too bad after, itchy more than anything.”

As much as he liked patterns, Squid couldn’t imagine being cut all over like that. He didn’t even like having to wear clothes that were too scratchy.

“What do they feel like?” Lynn said.

Nim shrugged. “Nothing really, sometimes I forget they’re even there.”

“Can I touch them?”

Nim nodded and Lynn raised her arm. Nim took her hand in his and gently guided her fingers to his cheek. Squid watched as Lynn ran her fingers along a swirl of dots. She smiled. “I can’t feel anything at all,” she said, “just your skin.” Squid thought that was a dumb thing to say because it was obvious that she wouldn’t be able to feel anything. As Lynn sat there, Nim holding her fingers to his face for much longer than was necessary, Squid felt a heat rise into his cheeks. He stood and Lynn looked up, dropping her hand away from Nim’s face.

“What?” Lynn asked, but even Squid could see the pink shade in her cheeks as he turned and walked to the door. He sat down, dangling his legs outside. He hoped that Lynn would come and sit with him like she would have before Nim arrived. He wasn’t going to ask her, though. For some reason he didn’t want to do that. He wanted her to come over on her own. When he realized she wasn’t going to, Squid started counting the bushes and tufts of grass that passed by the side of the road to try to distract himself, but it seemed much harder than usual.

That night Squid lay on the mattress listening to the sound of whispering. He tried to ignore it. He knew that Lynn and Nim wanted to stay up. He didn’t know why. Surely there was only so long you could talk to someone you’re stuck in a wooden box with before you ran out of things to say. They didn’t even know each other. Lynn was pretty much the only person Squid knew in the whole world, and even they had never be able to talk for so many hours in a row. He wondered why they couldn’t talk like that. He supposed it was his fault. He was weird, after all; everyone always said so, even Lynn.

Lynn laughed loudly before covering her mouth.

“You should be quiet,” Squid said. “The crew might hear you.”

“Squid,” Lynn said, sounding shocked to find him awake, “sorry, I thought you were asleep.”

“They’re not gonna hear us,” Nim said. “They’re way up in the truck.”

“Well,” Squid said, “you should turn in. Bishop said we’d get to the bio-fuel plant early tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Nim said. “We’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”

Squid rolled over, and had to listen to the two of them continue to whisper in the dark long into the night.

The squeal of the metal wheels and the sudden flooding in of morning light woke Squid. The bio-truck had stopped and the door to the trailer was being opened.

“We’re – Who in Ancestors’ sin are you?!”

Squid sat up. Bishop was standing in the doorway. Behind him Squid could see a scattering of small buildings. This must be Red Plains. Not a very original name for a town in the desert, Squid thought, since everything out here was red and plain. Nim and Lynn were still sitting against the wall where they had been chatting last night. They both woke abruptly with the opening of the trailer door, and Lynn lifted her head from where it had been resting on Nim’s shoulder. They hurried to their feet.

“I said,” Bishop growled as he climbed up into the trailer, his eyes fixed on Nim, “who are you?”

“Ah, I’m Nim,” Nim said. “I was just –”

“Stowing away,” Bishop finished for him. “A no-good Nomad freeloader.”

“No,” Nim said. “I was gonna pay.”

“Oh really,” Bishop said, extending his hand palm up. “Let’s see your money then.”

“I…” Nim looked from the driver to Lynn and then back again.

“That’s what I done thought,” Bishop said, his imposing figure taking a few steps toward Nim. “Get off! I don’t want to see you near my truck again.”

Nim moved quickly, stepping around the large bio-truck driver and climbing out the open door. Squid couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t have wanted a confrontation with the large man either. Nim dropped to the ground outside and looked back at Lynn. He looked upset, and there was a sense of pleading in his eyes. Squid supposed he didn’t want to miss out on riding the truck east with them, tagging along while he looked for this Storm Man of his. Squid knew they would probably need help to survive in the desert, but they’d just have to find someone else. He was glad Nim wouldn’t be traveling any further with them. He’d have Lynn to himself again.

“Bishop,” Lynn said, “it’s okay. He’s all right, really, he just needed a ride.”

Bishop turned his attention to Lynn. “You don’t ride if you don’t pay.”

Lynn looked out the door at Nim. “I’m sorry, Nim,” she said. “I’d pay for you but we don’t have enough money.”

“Don’t worry,” Bishop said. “You won’t be split up from your friend. You two harbored a stowaway on my truck. You ain’t going any further with us either. Off.”

“What?” Lynn said. “But I’ve paid for us to ride as far as you’re going. We’re not even halfway.”

“Off,” Bishop repeated.

Squid stood and picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He didn’t want to blame Lynn for this but he felt a twisting in his stomach and a rising annoyance when he thought about it. If she hadn’t stayed up all night talking to Nim, they wouldn’t have fallen asleep right where anyone could see them.

He followed Lynn as they dropped out of the trailer. The small town of Red Plains surrounded them: houses, a pub, a general store. Ahead of them, just off the road, was a large building, gray smoke pouring from two tall stacks extending from the roof. That must be the bio-fuel plant where they turned leftover organic material into fuel.

Bishop dropped down after them, pulling the door of the trailer closed. He climbed up onto the running board, holding on to a handle on the outside of the trailer. He banged his fist on the wood a few times. “All right, Barra!” he yelled. “Move it up!”

The bio-truck coughed and spat a swirling burst of white smoke into the air from the vertical exhaust pipe. It rumbled forward. Bishop watched Squid, Lynn and Nim as the truck headed for the bio-plant. Soon the three of them were left alone in the street. A few bio-plant workers dressed in dirty brown coveralls eyed them as they walked by, and their stares weren’t entirely friendly. Squid grabbed at his key.

“Well –” Lynn started to speak, but Squid spun to face her and Nim.

“What did you do that for?!” he said, anger and annoyance crawling around inside him, needing to be let out.

“What?” Lynn said, clearly shocked at the tone of Squid’s voice.

“I told you not to stay up all night talking,” Squid said. “I told you to go to bed because we’d be getting here early. If you’d done that then Nim could have slept behind the wooden crates where no one would have seen him instead of falling asleep right on top of you.”

“It’s not our fault,” Lynn said. “We didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Of course it’s your fault,” Squid said. “Whose fault is it if not yours?”

“All right, Squid,” Nim said. “I don’t like the way you’re talking. I think you should calm down.”

Squid spun his attention to Nim. “What?” he snapped. “You don’t get to come in here and tell me to calm down. You don’t get to be Lynn’s best friend just like that. I’m Lynn’s best friend. You don’t know what we’ve been through.”

“Squid,” Lynn said, her voice low and soothing.

“We don’t need your help,” Squid continued to Nim, even though he knew it was a blatant lie. “You can find your Storm Man on your own. We’ll manage in the desert. Come on, Lynn, let’s go.”

But Lynn didn’t move. “Squid,” she said. “I’m sorry we got kicked off the truck, but Nim’s right, you need to calm down.”

Squid was incredulous. “So you’re going to side with him, are you? Fine then, that’s fine. I don’t need your help either. I’m the one the prophecy is about. I’ll figure it out on my own.”