Song:
I picked my way
through the sand of the dry ocean after Cain, sweating and staring up
at the rusted wrecks that littered the sands. I had to ask. “How
did they come here?” I wondered.
Ahead of me, Cain
merely responded with another shrug. I had discovered that a shrug
was his default, and indeed preferred, method of answering. “The
same way everything gets here,” he replied. “Magic.” I
couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. “They've been here
ages, though. You can tell by how they've settled. Picked clean,
too, unfortunately for you.”
I had another
question, but Cain suddenly held up his hand, a universal sign for
quiet. I obediently shut my mouth, watching as he unslung his rifle
and raised it to his shoulder. He fired a single shot, and I saw
something small jerk in the sand, maybe sixty or seventy feet ahead.
Cain lowered the
rifle, a rare smile passing briefly across his scruffy features. He
hurried forward, with me close behind. He reached down and scooped
the carcass of a desert hare up off the sand. “Dinner,” he said
triumphantly.
That evening, camped
in the shadow of a battered derelict that might have once been a
battleship, we built a fire from salvaged scrap wood and cooked our
meal. Cain had bagged two other hares during the afternoon, and the
smell of them roasting made my mouth water uncontrollably. We
eagerly devoured the meal; my first food since arriving in Outworld.
The sun had nearly
vanished beneath the horizon when we finished. Cain dragged a couple
long stringers of wood over, laying shorter cross pieces on top.
Platform complete, he stretched out on top, somehow looking
comfortable. “You've got first watch,” he said, passing me his
rifle. “Wake me up when the first moon hits the horizon.”
“First
moon?” I asked, confused, but he merely waved a hand at me
dismissively – his second favorite gesture, I would soon learn. He
closed his eyes, and I was astonished to hear the faint but
unmistakable sound of snoring within minutes.
I looked up at the
sky. Sure enough, I could see two moons rising against a backdrop of
twinkling stars, one of them decidedly larger than the other and
moving more rapidly across the sky. That must have been what Cain
was talking about. Something about the two moons didn't seem right,
but I couldn't remember what was off.
Picking up the
rifle, I examined it, locating the safety and figuring out how to
position it against my shoulder. Clutching it to my chest, I crept
closer to the guttering fire, staring out into the darkness of
Outland.
Next chapter.
Next chapter.
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