The Pure: Book Three of the Oz Chronicles (14 page)

BOOK: The Pure: Book Three of the Oz Chronicles
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Scoop-face

 

 
TEN

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“‘I’m sorry to hear about Tank,’ Wes
said. ‘He was

good people.’ The portly former auto
mechanic was tinkering with the engine of his VW bus.

“Lou pulled her finger out of a jar of
peanut butter and stuffed it in her mouth. In spite of that, she tried to
speak. ‘Really good guy. We could have used him, too.’

“I was eating some fresh baked
flatbread. It was hard and barely edible, but I was hungry enough to marginally
enjoy it. Valerie had made it for us, and I didn’t want to be rude by not
eating it. I don’t know why I was holding on to the old social norms, but I
couldn’t let them go.

“‘This community they took you to,’ Wes
said. ‘You sure you weren’t followed?’

“‘Nah,’ Lou said. ‘The locust gave us
cover. They’re probably just now figuring out we got away. They’ll send out
search parties, though. They’re afraid we’ll give up their position.’

“Ajax huffed and grabbed the jar of
peanut butter from her. He dug his finger into the sweet sticky treat and
pulled it out. He sniffed it and hooted with delight. He sucked the peanut
butter off. I wondered how much he could enjoy it without a tongue, but it
didn’t seem to hold him back at all.

 

 
“‘Nice,’ Lou said with a
disgusted look on her face. ‘Keep it.’

“He happily complied. Kimball sat next
to him at full attention. Ajax smacked a glob of peanut butter on his canine
friend’s snout. Kimball’s tongue shot out of his mouth and frantically attacked
the gooey treat.

“‘We should attack them while they’re
not expecting it,’ Tyrone said.

“‘Attack?’ I said.

“‘We’re not attacking anything,’ Lou
said. She pulled the drawing that Tarek had given her out of her pocket and
handed it to Wes.

“‘What’s this?’ he asked.

“‘Saw Tarek and the little guy,’ she
said.

“‘Did you now?’ Wes said.

“Valerie squealed. ‘How is Nate?’

“‘Growing like a weed. He drew that,’
she said pointing to the drawing Wes was holding.

“‘Let me see,’ Valerie said taking the
drawing from Wes. “The old mechanic scratched his cheek. ‘He’s taken to drawin’
has he?’

“Ajax suddenly became interested in the
conversation. He dropped the jar of peanut butter and quickly moved next to
Valerie. Kimball pounced on the abandoned jar.

“Ajax peered over Valerie’s shoulder at
the drawing. He turned to Lou and signed something to her. She smiled and
nodded.

“‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘Cave.’

“‘Told you,’ Little Bobby said.

“‘Oh, yeah,’ Valerie said. ‘I see it.’

“‘No you don’t,’ Tyrone said. ‘You’re
just saying that.’ “‘I do too,’ she barked.

“‘Don’t you two start up again,’ Wes
groaned. ‘I’ve had it up to here with your bickering.’

“Ajax signed some more.

“‘We will,’ Lou said.

“‘We will what?’ I asked.

“‘Find the cave.’

“‘What cave?’ Wes asked snatching the
drawing from Valerie.

“‘This cave?’ He turned the drawing
around and showed it to Lou. ‘It’s a brown and black blob. This isn’t a cave.
It’s scribbling by a kid... a kid who’s... you know... slow.’

“‘He’s a Storyteller, Wes. He’s trying
to tell us where Oz is. I know it.’ Lou took the drawing from Wes and carefully
folded it.

“‘Well when you see a cave that looks
like a crayon threw up on the side of a mountain, you let me know,’ Wes said.
He turned back to the VW bus and resumed his maintenance of the engine.

“‘I know where it is,’ Little Bobby
said.

“We all turned to him.

“‘Of course,’ Lou said. ‘He’s a
Storyteller.’

“‘Wait a minute,’ I said. ‘Let’s not get
ahead of ourselves, here.’ I had been traveling with Bobby for weeks. He had
boasted about hundreds of exploits that were in retrospect probably not true. I
even doubted his stories of racing horses. He clearly worked with horses in
some capacity because that’s where we had first met, but as far as him ever
racing them, that was most likely a lie. I didn’t want Lou to get her hopes up.
I didn’t know much about Storytellers, and what they were capable of, but I
knew Bobby better than anyone left on the planet. I wouldn’t put a whole lot of
stock into anything he said.

“But it was quickly apparent that I
could have given Lou a thousand reasons not to believe Little Bobby, and it
wouldn’t have done any good. She had made up her mind. Bobby was the answer to
finding the cave, and if we found the cave, we found Oz. I went back to chewing
my almost unchewable flatbread and hoped that Bobby was telling the truth. I
had never met Oz. I had only heard stories of him from Lou and Tyrone and
Valerie, but I found myself wanting him here. This creyshaw thing was beginning
to freak me out. It carried a lot of responsibility, and I wasn’t sure if I
would ever be up to it. If I failed, the Destroyers gained even more power. I
could use a mentor and as far as I could tell, Oz was the warrior for the job.

“Lou sat and interrogated Bobby. I
should have listened, but I wanted a break from hearing what lay ahead. I stood
and walked to the rear of the VW bus where Wes was working on the engine.

“‘Can I talk to you?’ I asked.

“He looked up. ‘What’s on your mind?’

“‘Oz,’ I said.

“Wes stood erect and wiped the grease
from his hands with a filthy rag. He raised an eyebrow. ‘What about him?’

“I cleared my throat. ‘Well, as far as I
can tell, he’s the only warrior that’s succeeded. He got his Storyteller to his
Keeper.’

“‘So far,’ Wes said.

“‘Yeah, so far,’ I agreed.

“‘And?’

“‘How did he do it?’

“Wes smiled. ‘Because he’s a warrior.’

“I shook my head. ‘I don’t know what the
means.’

“Wes leaned against the VW bus. ‘A
warrior doesn’t fight for himself.’

“‘I know that. They fight for the
Storytellers...’

“‘No,’ Wes said. ‘That’s just the end
result. A warrior fights to undo a wrong, whether he created the wrong or not.’

“I kicked at a tree root in the ground.
‘I’m not much of a fighter. In fact, I’ve run from just about every fight I
could.’ I hesitated before I went on. ‘I hid out.’

“Wes shrugged. ‘Hid out?’

“‘In my garage. When... they came
through our neighborhood. I heard them in my house. I knew my wife and son were
in there, but I didn’t do anything to save them. I froze. I let them take my
family.’ I sighed deeply. ‘I’ve never said that out loud before.’

“Wes chewed his bottom lip. ‘Then I’d
say you’re the perfect warrior.’

“Perplexed,” I asked, ‘Why?’

“He lifted himself off the VW bus.
‘Because you definitely have some wrongs to undo.’ He went back to fiddling
with the engine.

“‘Thanks,’ I said sincerely.

“‘For what?’ he asked without looking
up.

“‘For not telling me what I did was
normal. That anybody else would have done the same thing.’

“He looked up, thought about a response,
and then just simply nodded.

“My head hung low, I walked away and
looked for a spot to sit and think. I scanned the small clearing and marveled
at how relaxed the atmosphere was. April was braiding Valerie’s hair. Tyrone
looked on with a childlike wonder at April’s skill. Ajax and Kimball were
playing. Lou was questioning Bobby. Everyone had a place. They fit perfectly as
if this was always supposed to be. A knot formed in my stomach. If I had agreed
to join Lou and the others back at the greenhouse, Tank would still be alive. I
had made a decision that cost another man his life. I had a lot of wrongs to
undo.

“I sat on a fallen tree at the edge of
the clearing and thought about the day I hid in my garage. I tried not to, but
the memory forced itself upon me. I couldn’t hold it back.

 

***

 

“The wind swirled outside my bedroom. It
carried a driving rain that pelted thick droplets of water against the window.
I watched it with an unusual interest. Birmingham had been without electricity
for three days at the time, and I was bored beyond belief. My son was asleep,
and my wife and I had talked until we didn’t have anything new to say to each
other. So I watched the rain. I was amazed at the power with which it struck
the glass. There were times I was sure a crack would develop from the pressure
of the hit, but one never appeared. Each raindrop made its own unique sound
against the window, whack, thud, pop, thwack.

“My wife was the one who suggested I go
into the garage and get a board game to pass the time. She sat on the edge of
the bed with me and found the rain less fascinating than I did. She sat with
her chin on my shoulder and tried to share my enchantment, but she couldn’t
take more than two minutes of it before she suggested we play Monopoly or
Trivial Pursuit or whatever, just anything but watching the rain.

“I resisted at first. I was in a
peculiar trance that made me feel more relaxed than I had felt since the world
had come to an end. I didn’t want to give that up. But she insisted, jokingly
at first. She playfully punched me in the arm, nibbled my ear, pinched my side.
She finally pushed me with a force that suggested that she was doing more than
proposing that we play a game to pass the time. She was insisting that we play
a board game to make our lives somehow normal again.

“I stood in a huff and said something
harsh, more harsh than I intended. She was hurt by my reaction. She had no idea
how precious that last moment had been to me. There was no reason she should
have. I wasn’t the type of person to share my feelings with other people, not
even my wife. There was no one on the planet I was closer to, but I didn’t want
to burden her with the up and down nature of my moods. I pretended to be happy
when I wasn’t. I pretended not to worry when I did. I pretended to be strong
when I was far from it. Pretending was something I did very well. It was my
greatest talent.

“I exited the bedroom, immediately
missed the rain, and quickly headed for the living room on my way to the
garage. I could get a look at the rain from that window. It was on the backside
of the house and it would give me a different view point. When I reached the
window, I was surprised to see the rain had picked up in intensity. It was
coming down in sheets. I could barely make out the world outside the house. I
peered through the waterfall of rain and saw a group of people standing in my
neighbors’, Harriet and Jim Compton’s, yard. Their features were distorted by
the blurry perspective of the water-covered glass. I counted a dozen people
dressed in black. I put my hands on the window and formed a tunnel to try and
focus on the group. Two of them were dragging something. I wiped at the glass,
but it did nothing. A pulse of rain washed away a clear spot, and I could make
out what they were dragging. Harriet Compton.

“I backed away from the window and
dropped to the floor. My heart was racing. I scooted backwards to the wall. A
black shape passed outside the window followed by another and another. I pushed
myself along the floor against the wall, scurrying to get out of view if
someone should look in the window. I turned the corner of the wall and pulled
myself up. The front door rattled. I peeked around and saw the doorknob moving.
I looked around for a weapon, anything, even if it was a thick book or a rolled
up magazine. Nothing. I breathed in. I told myself to exhale and make a dash
for the bedroom. The group of invaders started to push against the door. They
would break through at any second. I had to act quickly. I took a half step
forward and heard the wood panel of the door splinter and give way. I turned
and saw the door to the garage. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t just leave my wife
and child to fend for themselves.

“I tried to will myself to turn back
around, but I saw my hand reach out and grab the doorknob. I tried to pull it
away, but I had no control of my body. Quickly and quietly I opened the door
and moved into the garage. They were in the house. I could hear them muttering
amongst themselves. I ran to the water heater and settled in behind it, wedging
myself between its cold metal frame and the unfinished garage wall.

“I closed my eyes when I heard my wife
scream, and I covered my ears when I heard my son cry. I never once found the
courage to even stand. I prayed they would find me so I would pay for my
cowardice, but they never even looked in the garage. I sat there and listened
to them drag my family out of the house.

 

***

 

“Ajax and Lou approached me in the
mid-afternoon. I had fallen asleep somewhere along the line, but it was a
restless and pointless sleep. I wasn’t exactly refreshed and ready to carry on
a conversation with a fifteen year-old girl and 400-pound gorilla.

BOOK: The Pure: Book Three of the Oz Chronicles
3.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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