The wind howled violently, and lightning forked the clouds above.
“Stay put for now,” Samuel said. “I just have a feeling.”
We didn’t question Samuel. Instead, we waited in the bridge quietly. After a while, the storm began to let up. Before us, the shape of the mesa began to appear in the swirling eddies of dust.
“There it is,” I said.
The shapes of buildings began to materialize. They were still hard to discern, but they were there.
“This is it, then,” Samuel said. “Suit up and get your weapons ready. I’m not taking any chances.”
“Wait.”
At my voice, everyone stopped moving. The dust settled some more. That was Raider Bluff, alright. But something was off about it. I felt a creeping dread overtake me that I couldn’t explain.
Despite the dust, the buildings couldn’t be
The buildings were covered with xenofungus. Many of them stood decrepit, and the walls had been shattered in several places. The walls that I had once thought so strong no longer protected the city. The Empire hadn’t made it here first.
The xenovirus had.
“It’s…gone…” Anna said.
“No…” Makara said.
It wasn’t a “no” of disagreement — it was a “no” of disbelief. Raider Bluff was gone. It was all Blight, now. While we had been gone two months, somehow the virus had infiltrated what was going to be our chief ally in the Wasteland.
“Char…” Makara said.
She rushed off the bridge, leaving the rest of us to run after her.
“Makara, wait!” Samuel said.
She was out the door and into the Wasteland. The air was bitterly cold, harshly dry — worse than I could have ever imagined. I was still dressed for the south — but now, it was late December. Of course it was going to be cold.
Makara walked forward a few steps. She gazed at the lost city, her black hair whipping sideways in the wind. It was as she believed walking forward could reverse time and return the city to its former state. Anna ran up to stand beside her, holding a hand to her eyes to keep the dust out.
I ran to stand beside them. The fierce wind howled, throwing dust that threatened to obscure my vision
“We have to go up there,” Makara said. “There might be survivors.”
“Anyone who’s up there is probably dead,” I said. “Or…worse.”
On the top of the incline leading to the city, I could catch some movement, running out of the city at a run. There were at first dozens…then hundreds…then thousands. They came from the gates, running and screeching and screaming. There were crawlers, and the human forms of howlers. Flyers shot out of the buildings, taking to the skies in clouds of thousands. And they were all heading this way.
“To the ship,” Samuel said. “Now.”
But an ungodly bellow stopped us in our tracks. Rising from the ruins of the town was the largest xenodragon we had seen yet, colossal in size and dwarfing every other one we had seen in Nova Roma. Those had just been grunts compared to this one. This dragon was the soul of Ragnarok itself.
No raider had survived this attack.
As the monsters swarmed toward us in an unending tide, we ran back to the ship. The dragon did not chase us — it only watched, as if curious, as we lifted off into the air, as the crawlers occupied the space we had just vacated, jumping up into the air and snapping their jaws futilely at
Tears still in her eyes, Makara blasted upward, for the sky.
Once we were safely above the clouds, at an altitude of fifty thousand feet just to be sure, we didn’t say anything. Char, the others…they were probably all dead. Many were probably Howlers, now.
I didn’t want to ask, “What now?” There was no “now.” Char had been a source of vision and wisdom for us before our journey to Bunker One. Now, he was probably dead.
Makara held her head down on the dash, her shoulder shaking with sobs.
Samuel reached for the transceiver. Makara grabbed his hand before he could pick it up.
“Not yet,” she said, her voice shaky. “I have one more idea.”
Samuel turned to her. “What do you mean?”
Makara sat straight, dried her tears, and steered
“Where are we going?” Samuel asked.
“There is only one person I know who might be able to help,” she said. “And one person only.”
At first, I had no idea who she was talking about. Then, it came to me.
“He said there was a time where all would seem lost,” Makara said. “He said to, at that moment, fly to the desert and seek those to whom injustice was dealt, and give them justice.”
“The Wanderer said this,” Samuel said. “But who are we going to see, Makara?”
“They will be first of the New Angels,” Makara said. “This is where we begin.”
“East takes us to the Great Blight,” Samuel said, still confused.
“You mean Marcus,” I said. “You’re going to find the Exiles. They’re in the Boundless, right?”
“Yes,” Makara said. “They were kicked out of Raider Bluff, years ago, for going against the will of the Alpha. They wandered the desert, for years. And Marcus was right. One day, Char was going to need them. We need them now. If Char is anywhere, he’s
As we sped across the sky, I hoped that this wasn’t a dead end. I thought of the Wanderer, and how each of the prophecies had so far come true. Lisa was told she would have to give her life. Samuel was told he must remain true to himself. Makara was told to seek help with the Exiles, if her interpretation was correct.
That left me and Anna. I knew what mine was. The Wanderer told me that it all depended on me, somehow. That the mission would fail without me. For a moment, I remembered the Wanderer, and wondered just who he was, with his clouded, alien eyes that couldn’t see one foot ahead of him but could somehow pierce the mists of the future. Had he been friend, or enemy? Would we ever see him again?
I didn’t know what answers, or questions, awaited us in the Boundless, or among the Exiles. All any of us knew was that we had no other course. And Makara was now the leader of the Lost Angels, by our own admission.
So, for now, all we could do was follow her.
About the Author
Kyle West is a science fiction author living in Oklahoma City. He is currently working on
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