Men of Truth (The Wasteland Soldier #4)

“You turned down an offer of breakfast for this?” said Cali.

He ducked inside the ruined store without a word, leaving her standing alone in the melting snow. The sun lazily climbed in a washed out blue sky streaked with swollen ridges of red. One half of the avenue was bathed with insipid warmth whilst the other had been left in the shade. Cali was in the cold gloom, hemmed in by rows of empty one-storey and two-storey buildings with grime encrusted signage. She wrinkled her nose. This sucked, they were only a few blocks out from the compound and she was tempted to spin on her heels and head back. Yuan’s people had offered hot food and shelter but Stone had declined and urged her to leave.

“We ain’t gonna find shit in here.”

No one was listening. Vapour escaped from her mouth.

“This makes no sense. You don’t throw away that kind of invitation. Not for a dump like this.”

She trudged inside, shrugged off her heavy pack and put down the carbine. She looked around, shaking her head.

“What the fuck, man?”

There were broken tables and broken shelves, mangled baskets and mangled chairs. There were cracked ceiling titles and cracked floor tiles, exposed beams and exposed joists. She didn’t want to be in a place like this. It reminded her too much of the poor districts in Kiven, where she’d grown up. Things might have worked out differently if she’d been born a few blocks over and fallen under the umbrella of the Ministry of Progress or the Society of Souls. But she hadn’t. She’d been born in the district of the League which meant she lived in a slum. The League put the most in and got the least out and she knew from a young age that life was all about the taking and never about the waiting.

“Nothing given in Kiven,” her old Grandma would say, recycling an old Kiven expression with a sparkle in her eyes.

Cali could picture her in the kitchen, on her favourite stool, peeling vegetables with the window open. Summer or winter it was always open, letting in the noise of the block. She’d told Cali the noise reminded her she was still alive and that she hated the sound of silence. Her exact words. Cali told her silence had no sound.

“Silence is the noisiest sound in the world, girl,” she would say, and Cali would laugh, confused.

She missed her Grandma the most, missed her because she was always right.

“What are we doing in here? You gonna try something on me?”

Stone was behind a dirty looking counter, his pack and submachine gun propped against the wall.

“Try something?”

“Yeah, you know.”

Stone frowned. “What?”

“Forget it, man. What’s happening?”

“It wasn’t safe at the compound.”

“A big fence and plenty of people seem pretty safe to me. Even if they’re mostly lame.”

“Did you see the way Yuan’s father looked at you?”

“What do you mean?”

“And the men with the rifles?”

She wet her lips. “All I saw was Yuan smack that motherfucker Deshi. He got what he deserved. That dude chucked her on a bike and slung her out just to cover his ass. Damn, that little girl has got fire after all.”

She looked at Stone.

“What? Guys like to look at me. You know that. Right? Man, can we get out of this hole?”

“This isn’t so bad.”

But it was. It was damp, foul and there were the remains of something in the corner crawling with black flies.

Stone took the roll of paper from his coat and spread it across the counter.

“What’s that?”

“I got it from one of the Triple Death crew.”

She marched over, nodded.

“I look good.”

“You think so?”

“I’ve never been on a wanted poster before. Hey, have they got one of you, Stone? You still look pretty healthy for a dead dude.”

He said nothing.

“Look, this ain’t nothing you didn’t already know.”

There was no mistaking her eyes and the sassy curve of her mouth, and her long hair was spot on. But the sketch artist had drawn her cheekbones a little high, made her teeth oversized and the nose was a bit off.

But it was her.

He began to read aloud, his voice stilted. “This bitch is wanted for the murder of Triple Death soldiers.”

She folded her arms. “I had to take a few of them out to escape with the coins. So what?”

“This bitch is wanted for robbery,” he continued, in the same flat tone. “She stole from Triple Death.”

She shrugged.

“This bitch …”

“Man, you don’t have to read it word for word.”

Stone briefly raised his eyes. “This bitch is Cali Lopez. This bitch is wanted dead or alive … blah blah blah.”

He let the paper curl back and plucked it from the counter.

“Cali Lopez.”

“Yeah. That’s me.”

“I reckon they were showing this poster around the compound last night. That’s why Yuan’s father and the men with the rifles were giving you odd looks.”

She was quiet for a moment. “You think they recognised me?”

“Maybe.”

“So that’s why you didn’t want to hang?”

Stone nodded

“Were you looking out for me?” She smirked, playfully. “Then you don’t wish I was dead in that refuge?”

“No.”

“So why are you so pissed about the robbery? You’ve killed and stolen to survive.”

Stone was silent for a moment.

He said, “You took something and ran. That never works. They were always going to come after you. Then, now, later.”

“What would you have done?”

“Killed them all. Top to bottom. Wiped out the gang and took everything.”

“You’re serious, ain’t you?”

“You asked.”

“Oh, I did.”

There was an awkward silence.

“Are you looking to cash me in?”

“No.”

“So we’re stuck with each other, right?”

“Until we reach Silver Road. I gave Jeremiah my word. Then you tell me how to find the Pathfinder.”

Her eyes lowered.

“All comes back to that with you, doesn’t it? I mean, like, if I don’t know where he is you’re gonna walk right out that door this minute, ain’t you? You don’t want me with you, I get that.”

She took a deep breath.

“I don’t know where the Pathfinder is.”

“Did Jeremiah know?”

“Nah, man. Are you kidding me? The Pathfinder is a slippery dude. He likes the nomadic life. Jeremiah was pulling a fast one. But get this, and this is the truth, I do know what the dude looks like. So if we run into him I’ll know. I can point him out to you.”

She danced her fingers along the counter.

“Are you going to dump me here?”

“What’s so special about Silver Road?” he asked, and she opened her mouth to reply. “But not the bullshit you sold Yuan in the pickup.”

She closed her mouth.

“Why are you really heading there? Is it only to get away from the Triple Death gang?”

Her dark eyes flashed at him.

“What did Jeremiah really want with me? You could have handled all this shit so far.”

“Jeremiah couldn’t have wasted that convoy.”

“But I fired on them. They didn’t know we were there.”

“It’s not as simple as that.”

“He wanted me to replace him. Replace him as what? Your business partner? It’s time to end all the lies. I don’t care what you did or who you stole from. But lies can get you killed on the road.”

Cali puckered a smile.

“I’ll tell you my truth, Stone, but I want yours first.”

He was silent. She swatted away a fly.

“Why does the League think you’re dead?”

He said nothing.

“Well?”

Nothing.

“Did you give them a body?”

The driver had his foot on the gas pedal, revving the engine of the pickup. The body was in the street …

The men cheered and fired guns into the night sky …

“You find someone who looked like you? Had your build?”

“It’s not as simple as that.”

“Never is, man. But hear this. You saved people in Kiven. You stopped the League in the summer. Can you imagine what a second civil war would have done? You snuffed out those cocksuckers and spared so much misery. I reckon whatever you did to cover your tracks is balanced out.”

Stone reached into his pocket for the map.

“I want to know exactly where we are.”

Cali shuffled beside him.

“You ain’t gonna tell me shit, are you?”

“No.”

He traced a finger over the crumpled pages.

“You’re a long way from home.”

“What do you mean?”

“That ain’t where we’re at.”

“We’re about here, I reckon.”

“Nope.”

He pointed.

“North Gallen. This channel is the Metal Sea. This land mass is Ennpithia so we’re …”

“You need to look at it all.”

She guided his hand across a swathe of faded blue to another continent.

“That’s where my folks were from. California. That’s how I got my name. They were part of the Movement. You ever hear that story? All those quakes out west drove everyone across the land. The world just fell away. This is where we are.”

She stabbed the map.

“America, man. Land of the Ancients.”

Stone looked stunned.

“But that doesn’t make any sense. Where’s the sea I crossed? The Map Maker put us over here.”

“Dude was wrong.”

He brooded, thoughts filling with a fresh crop of first-world names.

He lifted his head, suddenly, and then Cali looked toward the street at the sound of footsteps. The map no longer mattered. Names and places no longer mattered. It could all wait. Stone moved his hand toward the butt of his revolver. Cali placed her pistol flat on the counter, muzzle angled at the doorway.

A young man came into view, alone, half-whistling, half-humming, walking with a casual swagger, head turning left and right, checking out his surroundings.

He stopped abruptly.

They looked out at him.

He was five-ten, scruffy blond hair and a sallow complexion. A hand-rolled cigarette hung crooked from his mouth.

The tip glowed as he took a drag and lowered it with his left hand.

He stepped inside.

“Morning,” said Bobby Reardon. “Damn cold, ain’t it?”