Read Deserted Online

Authors: L.M. McCleary

Deserted (25 page)

BOOK: Deserted
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“Brighter than that?”
He finally replied. “Just what
exactly do you mean by that?” His tone was harsh and he pulled away from me.
“Maybe he fiddled with my brain. Sure, whatever. Do I really care?”

           
I gasped at him. “How could you not, Kay? How could you not care where you came
from or who you are? You have family out there, you know.”

           
“And so do most of the people here.” He held the vial in an aloof manner,
running his fingers absent-mindedly on the golden lettering. “Look, not
everyone here has forgotten where they come from, but most that remember end up
wandering into the desert purposefully and come back knowing nothing. Those
that don’t opt for that route, those who know who they are and what they have,
still choose to stay here. Do you know why?” He stared at me but I remained
quiet; I knew he would answer himself regardless. “Because they know that here
is better than whatever the hell lies out there.” He spat the words out as he
pointed towards the wasteland, his voice struggling to stay as nothing more
than an angry whisper. He shoved the vial into my stomach, expecting me to take
it back. “I don’t remember much but that can easily happen when you get lost in
the wasteland. If the heat doesn’t drive you mad then the loneliness sure as
hell will. Amnesia can be caused by anything; you have no proof that
Krastanov
is behind this.”

           
I stared down at the vial that contorted rapidly into moving figures, jumping
from one memory to the next as Kay’s thoughts jumped as well. I grabbed his
hands one last time and shoved the vial towards him. “Maybe you should just
take a look at this.” I tried to keep my voice even to hide my frustration.
“I’m going to find a bite to eat.”

           
I turned and left him in the alley before he could respond. I didn’t want to
hear more of his negative and lackadaisical attitude but his vial’s visions
were really none of my business anyway; he wasn’t family so we wouldn’t share a
lot of the same memories like my father and I did. Trying my best to follow my
nose, I entered the stone building next to the alleyway, hoping that if nothing
else, someone inside could point me in the right direction.

           
It was massive on the inside and clearly a storehouse, judging by the large,
overflowing crates of things lining the walls. There was a path that ran
through the mounds and mounds of supplies all around me and wooden signs were
hung from the ceiling to point people in the right direction. Each one had
pictures next to their words to guide - what I assumed, anyway – those that
could not read; I knew from my dad’s lessons that not everyone was as
privileged as me…not everyone had a teacher. The sign to my immediate right
when I entered was labeled ‘clothing’ and had a small shirt as its symbol. It
had a rather large lineup that I had to squeeze my way through in order to
follow the path and the signs to something I could use. I passed by ‘shoes’ on
my left and then ‘jewelry’ on my right until I spotted a faint red symbol at
the very back. It was a familiar circular shape but I had to strain my eyes to
try and read the sign. I watched it get gradually closer as I continued down
the path, finally realizing what it was that my eyes were trying to decipher. A
large, red apple and the word ‘food’ was scrawled next to it; that had to be
where the smell was coming from. I smiled and rushed my way towards it. Of
course what I wanted would be at the very back; why wouldn’t it?

           
The ‘food’ counter was along the right wall and there wasn’t a customer in
sight. I thought it a bit odd that there would be more people for clothing than
a meal but maybe there was some kind of rule I didn’t know about; either way it
wasn’t something that I cared too much about. The counter was wide and made of
a sleek wood and a young girl stood on the other side, eyeing me. I had stared
at her without meaning to, as she fascinated me; the iris of her eyes were a
startling white and baby blue tattoos graced her cheeks. There were streaks of
white going through her long, black hair that seemed to have a mind of their
own, standing separate from the rest of her hair and seeming to hover and move
of their own accord. She was wearing a long robe of dark blues that appeared too
heavy and too large for her. She stared at me with a face of stone.

           
“Uh, hi.
I’m looking for something to eat?” I tapped
my fingers on the counter as I spoke to her, feeling somewhat uneasy under her
studious gaze. She stared at me a moment before sliding a book towards me with
a pen attached by chain. It had pages of signatures on it and notes of the food
being taken. I scribbled my name down and passed it back to her. She saw my
signature and then looked at me with a slightly tilted head.

           
“…you have a horse?” Her voice was soft as she finally spoke.

           
Her words caught me by surprise and I swallowed hard at
Ponika’s
memory. “I …used to.” The girl looked at me expectantly. “He was taken from
me.” I replied hastily, wanting to drop the subject.

           
“Why, what does it matter?” The girl merely smiled at me as she bent down and
proceeded to open a nearby crate filled with fruit. “…how did you know I had
one, anyway?” She still never responded as she packed a basket full with apples
and oranges for me. “Oh, I don’t need that much,” I said and she stopped
abruptly, looking at me from over her shoulder. “I don’t have a place here; I
have nowhere to put it.”

           
The quiet girl continued to stare at me for a moment before taking some of the
fruit back out. She worked slowly, giving me time to contemplate what she had
asked. I assumed someone in town must have told her about me although I
couldn’t really figure out why; what did it matter that I had a horse. Although…how
did she know it was a horse to begin with? I strongly doubted that Kay would
have remembered the name of the beast and I didn’t recall telling anyone else
Ponika’s
specie.

           
“…how do you know me?” I asked cautiously but of course I was met with silence.

           
She handed me the basket with only a few pieces of fruit inside. As I slid my
hands around it I asked her, “Do you know my father?” She seemed to freeze up
at the question. “Do you know my father in town?” She nodded slowly.  I
picked up my food. “Thank you.”

           
I turned and left as she scribbled into the book on the table. I couldn’t help
but think as I walked away…how did she know who my father was? I never
mentioned a first name and plenty of people have similar last names. Besides
that, my father wouldn’t know who
Ponika
was either,
so how does she know that I had a horse at all? I sighed and tried to shake the
thought of the young girl’s recognition. It’s been an emotional day as it is; I
really didn’t need to add anything else to it. It was interesting, however, to
have finally met a Pirate of the Sands.

 

CHAPTER
3

           
Both men had disappeared for a few hours after the vial’s revelations and I had
taken my small amount of food back to my tent, eating slowly and struggling to
push the thought of
Ponika
from my mind. 
Apples…he loved apples. I had been staring at the spot where my horse used to
stand guard at outside, losing myself in thoughts that did me no good when I
was suddenly pulled out of my reverie by Kay’s voice nearby.

           
“Are you in there?” Before I could even muster a reply he was at the entrance,
standing directly in my line of sight. “Get up; Chester wants to talk to you.”
Kay’s voice was low and his lips were pulled back in a thin line.

           
“Don’t give much warning, do you?” I had sighed quietly as I put my basket of
snacks on the nightstand. “What if I was getting changed in here?” I was
slightly annoyed by the interruption but also a little thankful for the
distraction.

           
“Changed into what?
Gauze?”
His response was immediate
and flat-toned, causing his frown to grow even deeper.

           
“Yeah; it’s just my colour.” I replied in a sullen tone as I stood up, my gaze
still lingering on the fruits that the Pirate had given me. I hesitated in
leaving even though my heart sank with every moment I stood inside that tent.

           
“I’ve no time for this; let’s go.” He growled at me through clenched teeth,
causing me to look up into his piercing eyes that bore into me. I frowned at
him but said nothing; I’m not sure this was a Kay that I wanted to hold a
conversation with at the moment. I followed him out of the tent and towards my
father’s workspace in complete silence, the tension thick in the air around us.
When we reached the tent that my father resided in, Kay flung the flaps aside
so angrily that I almost caught a zipper to my face. I followed cautiously
behind him and was greeted by my father’s smile. Chester’s face was pallid and
his eyes appeared heavy but he beamed at me with all the energy he could
muster.

           
“Thanks for coming.” He said to me, his voice coarse. The words were funny to
me; like I wouldn’t show up after everything I’ve been through for him? Chester
took no time in getting to the point. “Do you know the way back?”

           
Both men stared at me as I returned their glances with wide eyes. Back?
Like…back home?

           
Kay was fidgeting in his spot, huffing under his breath. “How do you know it’s
even real?” He finally cried out, “You just want to up and leave
everything
for this nonsense? It’s the wasteland; you’ll die out there!”

           
I was still trying to comprehend what was going on when my father retorted, “I
made it out here just fine.”

           
Kay rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, if you believe that stupid green
thing.
Who’s to say that you haven’t lived here your entire life?”

           
My father nodded towards me. “She corroborates my story.”

           
Kay turned his back to me as though he could shut me out. “And you believe
her
?
What has she done that has garnered so much weight around here?” His voice was
low and seethed.

           
My father took Kay’s attitude in a calm and collected manner, only sighing
mildly at his tantrum. “In the end it has nothing to do with her. I have to do
it for myself. This way I’ll know…I’ll know if the vial is right.”

           
“Why throw it all away over nothing, Chester? You know you’ll never find your
way back here again!” Kay gestured wildly now, realizing that there was little
that could sway my father’s mind.

           
“I realize that.” My dad replied coolly, “but it’s a sacrifice I have to make.
If this is all true then I have to make right by it.”

           
Kay shook his head and balled his fists up tightly at his side. “You’ll run out
of supplies.” He said, drawing his breathing to a slow, meditative state,
“There’s nothing saving you in the wasteland. You have a future here, Chester,
but you’ll never survive in the desert…”

           
“I understand your concern.” My father said nothing more to him and I was
impressed with how politely and professionally he had shut down Kay’s vehement
dissent; he clearly had dealt with this sort of thing before. Chester turned
his attention to me, leaning his head ever so slightly to see me past Kay’s
intrusive frame. “Do you know the way?” my father repeated.

           
“No,” I replied, coming forward to stand beside Kay, “I wasn’t exactly planning
on ever going back so I never kept track of which direction I travelled. I
wanted to find you; that’s all that mattered.”

           
“You weren’t planning on going back?” My father raised an eyebrow and I merely
shook my head.

           
“You see?” Kay replied quietly but still with a hint of anger, “even
she
doesn’t want to go back there; that has to say something.”

           
“There’s nothing there for me,” I looked at Kay but he ignored me, “but there
is
for you two. I may not know the way but I can help you
get there.” I spoke again to my father. “I know what’s in the desert and I can
guide you through it. I’ve even kept a journal of my travels that may come in
handy.” A small grin passed my lips as my dad nodded approvingly at me.

           
“Be sure to grab it-
“ my
dad started but was
interrupted by another of Kay’s outbursts.

           
“You’re crazy!” Kay exclaimed, “
Neither of you know where
you’re going and
you don’t even know if these vials are legitimate,
Chester! They could be a fake concoction made by
Krastanov
to mess with us. Hell, it could have even been made by
her.
” Kay spat
the last word out and pointed towards me yet still refused to look my way.

           
“But what if it isn’t?” My father calmly responded. “What do we have to lose by
checking it out?”

           
“What do we have to lose?” Kay smirked at how ludicrous the statement seemed.
“Well, this place, for starters. That is if we don’t die in the wasteland on
the way there, anyway. How will we ever get back here?” I furrowed my brow. Why
was Kay talking about a
‘we’
? Is that why Kay was so furious…did my
father demand that he come with us?

BOOK: Deserted
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