Autumn in the Dark Meadows (The Autumn Series) (6 page)

It usually was a thrill to feel the vibration through the floor.  But tonight, I was ill at ease.

I glanced up at the stars and told myself that the fact I could still see them was a good sign.  I pulled out my phone again and stared at my two texts to Sarah.  Still pending.  I clutched the phone to my chest, willing it to work, for just a little while.  But it was useless.

Had it been half an hour yet?  I focused on the road, anticipating the silhouette of Grey astride Gideon, his black Andalusian, then wondered if he might astral project and appear out of nowhere.

My eyes slid across the road to the wall facing Black Canyon and overlooking the Colorado River several hundred feet down.  This was where Grey and I watched the sun set into the red hills when we first arrived in Hoover.  Where he told me he loved me more than anything.  Where he told me his secret.  What he’d been keeping from me.

I went over his words for days, until I couldn’t stand it.  He had as good as killed my parents.  His people were responsible.  He knew.  And he hadn’t told me.  I couldn’t get past it.

I walked around the star chart, pacing out the distance between Vega to Mu.  More time passed, and my confidence dwindled.  He hadn’t come.  I felt stupid.  I shouldn’t have assumed Grey would still jump at the chance to help me.  He’d moved on, and I wasn’t as important to him as I once was.

The moon was small and high in the night sky now, and the wind came in heaving gusts.  I crossed the road to Snicket, feeling angry and foolish.  If Grey wouldn’t help me get to Sarah, I’d ask Ben and Shad to ride with me to LA to find her.  It would take longer that way, but I had no choice.

A sputtering noise suddenly echoed off the canyon walls.  I glanced up at the bypass bridge that stretched across the canyon above me and saw a small dark object heading to the Arizona side, away from Hoover.

It was a motorcycle, or maybe a dirt bike.  I didn’t know anyone in town who had one. Who could it be and, more importantly, where did they get the gas?  Just then, the engine rattled to a stop.  A dark figure lurched off the bike and collapsed out of sight, followed by a sob that echoed off the canyon walls.

I kicked Snicket into a gallop and wound my way up the road until it reached the turnoff to the bypass bridge.  We slowed as we came upon the still figure leaning against the wall.

The boy was small, maybe thirteen years old.  And very dirty.  He watched me wearily, the whites of his eyes bright against his grimy face.

“Hey, are you okay?” I asked.

He breathed heavily and looked like he was about to pass out.

“What’s your name?”  I figured that was an easier question.

“Matt,” he said, between deep breaths.

“I’m Autumn.  Where are you from?”

He looked frightened and close to tears.

“What happened to you, Matt?  Where are you from?”

“Vegas...” he murmured.  “Have to find... Mayor... Westland.  Sandstorm... accident...”

My blood went cold.  “What happened in Vegas?” I pressed, but the boy didn’t answer.

He passed out completely.  I tried to shake him awake, but he lay there, breathing shallowly, his eyes closed.  I stood up and ran back to Snicket and leapt onto her back.  I kicked hard at her sides, making her jump forward.

Once back in town, I thundered down Lake Mead Avenue atop Snicket, hair flying behind me like a flag in the wind.  A flare of white streaked into the sky ahead of me, reflecting off the lake’s black surface to my right.  It exploded in a shower of sparks, and an ear-splitting pop followed half a moment later.  Snicket danced sideways and tossed her head, whickering uneasily.

She reared, and I felt myself sliding off her back.  I grabbed the saddle horn and hung on, feeling a seam in the skirt of my dress pop.  Snicket came down again, and the shock of her front hooves hitting the dusty earth rattled my teeth.

I stroked Snicket’s neck with a shaking hand and kept the reins pulled back tight.  I heard whooping laughter and saw a few people at the lake’s edge.  They must be setting up the fireworks and couldn’t resist testing one.  I kicked Snicket into a gallop again.

I reached the Rec Hall a few moments later and jumped off Snicket before she could skid to a full stop.  I stumbled to my knees, shocking the people still leisurely enjoying the party.  They tried to help me up, but I brushed past them and ran inside.  Shad saw me first, and his carefree face dissolved into concern as he took in my windblown hair and scuffed knees.

“Autumn, are you okay?” he asked, catching Ben’s attention and waving him over.

“Something’s happened in Vegas!” I blurted out.  I filled them in quickly on the little information I had.  “I couldn’t lift him on Snicket to bring him back here, so I left him there on the bridge.  Someone should go back for him, and we need to get to Vegas fast!”

Ben reacted first and made a beeline for the sound system.  I watched him fumble with a few buttons, and all of sudden, the music stopped.  Everyone stared at him.

“Quiet down.  Quiet!”  I heard him yell.  “We have a situation.  Where’s the mayor?”

A murmur shot through the crowd, and Mayor Westland appeared in the doorway from the veranda.  “What’s this?” he asked.  “What’s going on, Mr. Harmond?”

Ben jumped down from the stage and rushed through the crowd to him.

“What were you doing down at the bypass bridge?” Shad whispered to me.

I ignored the question as Mayor Westland called, “Where are our medical people?  I need someone at the bypass bridge, immediately.”  The crowd began to buzz around us.

“We’ll go!” shouted Kathy, a middle-aged nurse I recognized from my time healing at the medical clinic when I first arrived.  She was standing next to another med center staff member, JR.  JR had been a dental hygienist's assistant before The Plague, but the Hoover medical staff wasn’t picky about what kind of training he’d received.

“It’s a young boy,” the mayor said.  “Sounds like he rode here from Las Vegas on a motorcycle and needs treatment for exhaustion.”

Kathy and JR left the Rec Hall immediately, heads together in discussion.  I looked around for Grey, surprised he wasn’t the first to offer his assistance, but he was nowhere to be seen.  I looked around the room again.  Lydia was absent as well.

The volume in the room rose, people’s voices on the edge of panic.

“Quiet!” called Mayor Westland.  “We believe this boy is a messenger from Vegas.  He said there was a sandstorm and an accident.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, and it took several moments for him to get everyone’s attention again.  “I know some of you are worried about the children on the field trip, but please don’t panic.  We don’t know if they’re even involved.  A group will fly to Vegas tonight, to offer help.  Randy!” the mayor yelled.  “Do we have a plane ready?”

All eyes turned to Randy Blanchard, who leaned leisurely against the back wall of the Rec Hall and looked like he’d fit in better at a Jimmy Buffett concert.

“Daniel took the Cessna to Vegas.  Gotta finish overhauling the Beachcraft before she’s good to go,” Randy said, his voice vacant and unhurried.

“How long will that take?” the mayor asked.

Randy scrunched up his face, thinking.  “Few days?  I don’t know.”

“Thank you, as ever, for your unparalleled service, Mr. Blanchard.”

Randy shrugged and turned to leave, mumbling about going to get started.

“All right.  That means horses.  I’ll need volunteers,” boomed the mayor’s voice.

“I’ll go!” I called.  The mayor nodded and counted the few other hands going up around me.  Shad and Ben both volunteered as well.  I looked for Grey again but didn’t see him.  I wondered if he was with Lydia and if that was why he hadn’t met me at the Winged Figures.  I ignored the swell of irritation at the thought and focused on what the mayor was saying.

“Those going will meet by the medical facilities in half an hour ready to –”

A howl of wind drowned out the rest of the mayor’s sentence, and a million tiny pebbles peppered the outside of the Rec Hall.  This was probably the remnants of the sandstorm that hit Las Vegas.  I groaned.  Riding through a storm would only slow us down.

Tess shut the doors against the blowing dust outside, but Shad tore past her.  The door banged against the wall, and Tess stared after him, her brow wrinkled.  Before the door could shut again, both Ben and I were following him.

“Be careful, you guys!” Tess called after us, her hand up to block the sand from her eyes.  I waved back to her, then concentrated on finding Snicket in the blowing sand.

“I’ll see you at the clinic,” I called to Ben and Shad as I leaped onto Snicket.  I snapped the reins against her side, making her jump into a canter, and the skirt of the dress I borrowed from Connie split the rest of the way.  I rounded the Rec Hall to Main Street and into the full force of the gritty wind.

The small voice in the back of my mind urged me to find Grey so he could help.  But my pride was bruised, and I silenced the voice.

Back at home, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.  I grabbed my sneakers and a hooded sweatshirt and threw some clothes into a backpack, along with a few other necessities.

I couldn’t stop my mind from asking the questions that hurt the most.  What if something had happened to Rissi... or Connie?  I looked up at the light spilling into my room from the hall.  I could easily see Connie standing in the doorway, her blonde hair tucked into a short ponytail, talking to me about school and her students, and complimenting the garden I built in the backyard.  I imagined Rissi eating oatmeal pancakes in the kitchen.  I imagined I heard her voice drifting down the hall with the warm scent of breakfast.  Then I imagined living here alone.

I saw my phone lying on my bed and remembered Sarah.  She was waiting for me, depending on me to come back for her.  My stomach twisted.  What was I supposed to do?  I couldn’t forget about Sarah, but Connie and Rissi could be in immediate danger.  I would be back to Hoover in a couple days, along with everyone else.  I could go find Sarah then.  It was the very best I could promise myself for now.

Ten minutes later, Snicket and I were huddled on the leeward side of the medical center, partially sheltered from the stinging sand while we waited for everyone else to arrive.  There was a wagon near the front door with rubber tires and a tarp-covered frame high enough for an adult to stand under.  Its tires would be useful, because I was sure we would be off-roading most of the way.  Even here, the highways were still clogged with cars.

Suddenly, the door to the clinic banged open, and a figure dashed through the wind to the wagon, deposited a box and ran back inside.  I made sure Snicket’s reins were tied and followed.

Kathy, Lydia and a few others were inside, pulling supplies from shelves and packing them into boxes.  Matt, the boy from Vegas, was asleep in a hospital bed in the next room.

Mayor Westland arrived on my second trip to the wagon and hurried inside.  I shoved the box into the wagon and ran back inside, but froze when I heard the mayor’s voice from behind a closed door.

“How did he get past three towers without someone seeing him?  Tell me how three different
manned
guard towers missed seeing or hearing a motorcycle roar past them?”

“The South Tower and the Central Tower must have been in the middle of guard changes when the boy passed.”  I recognized Josh Hamilton’s voice, the head of the Welcoming Committee.  I slowly knelt to grasp another box so I could hear as much as I could.

“The guards were probably in the stairwells, exchanging logs,” he continued.  “Charlie was out at the West Tower.”

“And is Charlie deaf?”  The mayor sounded impatient.

There was a pause, and then Josh said, “He was asleep.”

“Asleep!” Mayor Westland exploded.  “The whole point of the Hoover Guard is to protect us!  How can they do that if they’re asleep out there?  I want to speak –”

Josh cut him off.  “You can’t, I’ve sent him home to get a full night’s sleep for the first time in a week.  No one likes being all the way out at the West Tower alone, so he’s been pulling double shifts.  The silence out there doesn’t bother him like it does other guards.  The other towers overlook busier parts of Hoover, but the West Tower is on the edge of Boulder City.”

I didn’t blame the guards. I’d been through what was left of Boulder City once, and I understood why they didn’t want to be out there. Though the gas riots ended the previous year, the torched buildings still smoldered, slowly burning through the remaining fuel and shrouding the wrecked city in hazy smoke that muffled all noise.

A door opened behind me, and I grabbed the nearest box and stood up.  It was Lydia.  She had changed from the dress she wore to the dance into jeans and a crisp black shirt.  I felt the usual pang of self-loathing as she swept toward me, her face flawless and expressionless and her hair perfectly smooth.  Either she paused to clean up after every trip outside into the windstorm, or dirt was repelled from her by some supernatural force.

She picked up a box.  “Looks like you need help,” she said, as if I wasn’t moving fast enough.  “Grey was supposed to be back to do this himself, but I guess we can take care of it.”

“Where is he?”

“He was here with me until Kathy and JR brought the boy from Vegas in.  Grey got him settled and packed most of these boxes, then he went home.”

So he’d been with Lydia instead of coming to meet me.  Grey and Lydia had been friends longer than most humans because of the immortality their E-Vitamin granted them.  Since Grey met me, he’d stopped suppressing his emotions.  A small part of me wondered if someone else would fill the void now that I was gone from his life.  I remembered Grey accusing Lydia of “cracking” and showing her emotions, too.  I recalled a time earlier this year when I believed Grey and Lydia were a couple.

I suddenly felt uncomfortably warm, and the box in my sweaty hands grew heavy.  Lydia backed into the door to open it against the wind, and I reluctantly followed.

The wagon was almost full when several horses and riders materialized out of the darkness.  Ben and Shad came first, followed by JR.  JR’s horse was hitched to a small two-wheeled cart that rattled with its large load of shovels, picks and plastic barrels.  His usually cheerful face was grim as he climbed down from his horse and went inside.

My shoulders sagged when I saw who followed behind them.  It was Sam.  Her heart-shaped face peeked out from under the darkness of her sweatshirt hood, and her small fingers clutched the saddle horn nervously, exposing her inexperience on a horse.

I grabbed Ben’s arm as he dismounted from his horse.  “What’s she doing here?”

“You’re talking to the wrong person,” Ben said, as he began to reorganize the contents of his backpack.

“Seriously, that’s your answer?  Two months ago, she and a bunch of her Greeter friends were chasing me down outside The Water Tower and now you don’t care if she’s here, living with us like she can be trusted?”

“Samantha was granted immunity for the intel she had,” Josh said, appearing behind me.

I turned to glare at him.  “Intel?  Karl and The Reconstruction Front are bad news.  That’s all the ‘intel’ you need to know.”

 “If only it were that simple,” he said, straight faced. “I need you to trust that I do my job well, Miss Winters, and let this go.  Besides, there are more pressing concerns just now, wouldn’t you agree?”

I glared at him and was forced to nod my head.

“Good.  Now let’s get ready to go.”  He turned, surveyed the wagon and retreated to his horse, which had a pack tied to its saddle.

“Come on,” Ben said.  “It’s a thirty-mile ride to the Egyptian, and every minute may count.”

Hoofbeats sounded, and I turned toward the noise.  Grey’s horse, Gideon, burst from the darkness, mammoth and menacing, his coat as shiny black as a panther’s.  He skidded to a stop beside us, spraying our legs with loose dirt, and Grey dropped to the ground.

“Sorry about that,” Grey said, as Ben sighed and began dusting off his bag. “I was afraid I might have missed you guys. Can we talk for a second?” Grey asked, glancing at me.

I tried not to notice Ben watching us as we walked out of earshot of the others.

“Unless you’re offering to project me to Vegas to find Rissi and Connie, I don’t want to talk to you,” I said, before he could say anything.

Grey sighed heavily.  “I know you’re mad.  I’m sorry.  And believe me, I considered projecting myself there immediately when I heard.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, I wouldn’t be able to explain how I got there so fast.”

I didn’t want to appear weak, but I was burning to demand an explanation of why he stood me up.  I glanced up at him.  “Why didn’t you come?”

“I would never stand you up unless it was for a very good reason.  You should know that.  Lydia had something to tell me, and it couldn’t wait.”

“What I had to say was important, too,” I argued, trying to keep my voice level. “I found out my best friend, Sarah, is alive.  She was taken by The Front, and once we find out Connie and Rissi are okay, I need you to take me to LA.”