Wastelands: Stories of the Apocalipse

entreaties in the dusk air behind her.

Damn, how could she have fallen for that? Her parents were so obvious. And Ken, she fumed on her way back. He shouldn’t have taken her over.

Even after he showed up, sheepishly cooking yet another marvelous meal, she tried to remain angry. But the anger eventually subsided, as it always did.

#

On the seventh and eighth day of waiting reception cleared up enough for the both of them to catch some broadcasts from further north. Ken had enough charge in the house batteries for almost eight hours of television shows, and they both cuddled on the couch.

#

Mara began to wonder if the Zephyr would ever show. The last visit was two years ago, when the giant, wheeled caravan sailed into town for a day. Traders and merchants festooned its various decks with smiles and stalls.

The Zephyr, Mara knew from talks to its bridge crew, was one of the few links the outer towns of America still had with the large cities, and each other. Ever since the Petroleum collapse, with the Middle East nuked into oblivion and portions of Europe glowing, the country had been trying to replace an entire infrastructure based on oil.

Almost two generations later it was succeeding.

The large cities used more nuclear power, or even harnessed the sewer systems, but small towns were hit the hardest. Accustomed to power, but dropped of the line, isolated, a minor Dark Age had descended on them. Life based itself here on bare essentials; water and wind.

Mara wanted to see a city lit up in a wanton electrical blaze of light, forcing away the dusk and night with artificial man-made day.

#

On the tenth day Ken found her in the bedroom frantically packing.

“They spotted the Zephyr coming in from the east,” Mara said, hoisting a pack onto her shoulders.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“What?”

“Go. You don’t know what’s out there. Strange places, strange people. Danger.”

Mara looked at him.

“Of course.”

Ken looked down at the ground.

“I thought we had something. You, me.”

“Of course.” Mara paused. “I told you that I would be going.”

“But I’d hoped…”

“Ken. I can’t.”

“Go.” His voice hardened and he walked into the kitchen. Mara sat on the edge of the bed biting back tears, then snatched the two packs and left angrily.

#

The Zephyr rolled through Main Street, slowing down to a relative crawl to allow people to run alongside and leap up. Kids thronged the sides of the street, and furious trade went on. The four tall masts of the Zephyr towered above the small two and three story town buildings. The masts looked like vertical wings, and used the same principles. Air flowing across the shorter edge of the blade-like mast caused a vacuum, drawing the massive wheeled ship forward.

Mara followed the eager crowd behind the ship. She nodded to the occasional familiar face.

Plastic beads, more precious than gold due the rarity of oils were draped across stalls that slid out of the side of the hull. Mara aimed her quick walk for one of these, but instead found herself blocked by a familiar form.

“Uncle Dan?”

“Hi.” He had her arm in a firm grip. Mara saw the bulk of the Zephyr slowly moving away. She tried to pull out of his grip, but couldn’t. Her dad pushed through the crowd.

“Dad! What are you doing?”

“It’s for your own good, Mara,” uncle Dan said. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Yes I do,” she yelled, kicking at her uncle’s shins. The crowd around them paid no obvious attention, although Mara knew full well that by nighttime it would be the talk of the area.

She begged, pleaded, yelled, kicked, scratched and fought. But the men of the house already had their minds made. They locked her into the basement.

“You’ll be out when the Zephyr leaves,” mom promised.

There were no windows. Mara could only imagine the Zephyr’s slow progress out of the town. She tried to put a brave face on, then crawled into a corner and cried. After that she beat on the door, but no came to let her out.

#

The basement was a comfortable area. The family den, it held several couches and carpet. The door creaked open, and from looking out Mara guessed it to be dusk. Ken came down the stairs carefully.

“It’s me Mara.”

“I suppose you’re in on this too?”

“Actually, no. You’re family wants me to speak some sense into you. I won’t lie to you, Mara. I want you to stay. But holding you here like this is ridiculous.”

“The longer we all stay out here, away from the cities, the crazier it gets.”

“Maybe. You’re family’s scared. They don’t want to lose you.”

“That doesn’t give them the right to lock me up like a damn dog!” Mara yelled.

Ken came closer.

“My sail-cart is outside. That’s as far as you need to get. You’re a better sailor than anyone else, once in you can outrun everyone. The Zephyr is still reachable on a long tack. Hey, I never did get along with your uncle anyway.”

Mara looked up at him and gave him a long hug.

“Thank you so much.”

“If you’re ever back in town, look me up.”

“Will you come with me, then?”

“Ask me then.”

Ken pulled away and stepped up the stairs.

“Stay close.”

He launched himself into her uncle and dad, tackling them with a loud yell. Mara ran past, losing only a shoe, pushing past her mom and out into the yard.

The cart’s sail puffed out with a snap, and she was bouncing her way over the sand before she looked back to see two figures at the door watching her go. No one bothered to chase her. They all knew her skill with the sail.

#

It took the better part of few hours before the four masts showed up. Mara could hear distant shouting as she overhauled the giant land ship.

“Ahoy Zephyr,” she shouted.

Some one tossed a ladder down, and Mara hauled herself up. The small sail cart veered off and tipped into the dust, snapping its tiny mast in two. It felt faintly liberating to land on the deck with a smile.

The merchant with the ladder stepped aside, letting an officer in khaki step forward.

“We’ve been watching you approach for the past few hours,” he said. “We like the way you handle the wind.”

“Can you read a map?” asked a woman in uniform. She wore strange braids on her shoulders.

“No.”

“You looking for a position on board the ship?”