whatever you want. There’s well over three hundred batts in there.”
“That’s…insane.”
“Look, kid. Batts are valuable. They’re from the Old World, and they’re useful. They give heat, cook food, and power machines that would otherwise be useless. They’re a commodity, and someday, all of them will be gone. These are even the cheap kind. If you could get your hands on some rechargeables or solars, you’d never have to raid again.”
“Fine, I believe you. So, why would you want to split them with me?”
“Because, believe it or not, I actually feel bad for what happened. Most raiders aren’t bad people. We were just in a bad situation, and we do what we must to survive. If I’ve already ‘killed’ everyone who matters to you, then maybe this is some weird way to make it up.”
“No. There’s nothing you can do, so don’t even try.”
I didn’t want to talk to her, and I wanted her to stop talking to me. Yet, she did have a point. I knew nothing about surviving out here. Going with her would give me something to do, even if I hated her guts. Hate was better than emptiness. It would give me a reason to go on.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll go with you. Where are we going?”
“Don’t know. Somewhere far away from them. Maybe Oasis. It’s a walled settlement, so if I can get you in there, you’d be safe. It’s run by a man named Ohlan, who I’ve met. You might be able to buy your citizenship there with your share of the batts.”
“Do we have enough food?”
“Just what we have in the pack. You have a name?”
I eyed her up and down. I guess if I was stuck with her for the next few days, names might be useful.
“…Alex Keener.”
“Makara Angel.”
She lifted her own pack, putting it on her shoulders.
“Come on. If we’re fast enough, I know a place where we can shelter before sundown. Keep an eye out. I can’t look everywhere at once, and raiders can be thick in this area. It’s cold today, so most of the rats will be hiding in their holes. That’s good for us. If we hurry, we might make Oasis tomorrow.”
Makara headed for the mouth of the cave. The raiders would probably be very close by.
I followed her outside.
Chapter 13
By the time we got going, I realized I was hurting more than I thought. Everything ached, especially my stomach, which hadn’t had food in a while. There was little water, too. Makara gave me some of her share. I accepted, even if I didn’t want to. As we walked, I munched on some of my granola, fighting back the urge to down all of them.
Makara was always busy scanning the horizon, ducking at random moments. I had no idea what she was so afraid of. We were clearly the only ones out here on this cold, dismal day.
The clouds were spooky looking – always the color of blood, that cast the whole bare earth in crimson light.
“What kind of name is Makara, anyway?”
“It’s Khmer. It’s the first month of the Cambodian year. I’d like to think it means a new beginning.”
Despite myself, I became interested. “Are you Khmer?”
“On my father’s side. My mother was American, and so am I, for that matter.”
“How are you American? You’re a Wastelander.”
“I was born here, kid. That makes me American.”
We stopped around noon to eat. She handed me some sort of sticky, bread-like substance wrapped in tin foil. It wasn’t bad.
“What’s in this, anyway?” I asked.
“Rice, mostly.”
“It tastes good.”
Makara smirked. “Hunger is the best seasoning. I’d rather have a hearty stew on a day like this.”
We were up again, and walking. We were in the wilderness, nowhere near a city. Makara had taken us far off road, thinking that if we were being followed, it would be harder for her former raid group to track us. Flat plains spread before us. There was a nightmarish beauty to it.
“So, are we anywhere close to L.A.?”
“L.A. is about eighty miles west. Fights, and wars all the time, gangs killing each other over the last bits of stale food that haven’t been snatched up. Not much can survive thirty years. Eventually, L.A. will be completely dead. Not like it was ten years ago, when Raine was alive.”
“Who was Raine?”
She didn’t answer, but kept walking. I shrugged, and didn’t ask again.
Nothing more happened that day. No more words were exchanged. I could tell Makara wanted to be alone with her thoughts. Fine by me – so did I.
We walked the rest of the day without much incident. When the red sky darkened, Makara led us into an old house, decrepit and peeling. Otherwise, it looked like it had weathered the horrors of Ragnarok pretty well. Its structure was intact, and it didn't look like it would be collapsing anytime soon.
We went inside. We ate the last of my granola bars. From Makara’s face, she disliked this even more than the rice bread.
After eating, she got up.
“I need to check something out,” she said.
I shrugged. I got out my blanket and hunkered down in a corner. Just to think two weeks ago, I would be in my warm bed full of hopes and dreams. All of that was gone, now.
The numbness just grew until I burst. I tried to hold back tears, but they came out all the same. I kept thinking of Khloe. When one has no hope, one can’t even cry. But now, I guessed I had hope.
Hope in what?
Makara came back in. I hastily dried my tears.
“We're not being followed…at least from what I can tell…” She stopped short. “What’s wrong?”
I didn't answer her. I couldn't find the words.
“I know things are tough,” she said, in her tough voice. “But you need to buck up.”
How she could even say that, I didn’t know. She had no idea. No idea at all.
I turned toward her. I could see her silhouette by the door.
“You know,” Makara said, “you probably won’t believe me, but we’re a lot alike. That’s part of the reason why I wanted you to come with me. I don’t fit in with the raider types and I don’t fit in with the settler types. If I can get away from the raiding life, I’m willing to risk it.”
“You’re alone, then.”
“Does that surprise you?”
“No. But it makes me wonder what you see in me.”
“I see me in you.”
I was about to think she truly was crazy, when she surprised me.
“Like you,” she said, “I was born in a Bunker.”
I just stared at Makara. I didn’t know what to say.
“Wait…really? Which one?”
“Mine…was a bit different. I was in the main government Bunker. The one with President Garland in it. Bunker One.”
