Authors: Tobias S. Buckell
Crystal Rain (8 page)
The warrior looked up from his work, smiled with full, black-colored lips, and moved to unsling the large gun strapped to his back. Pepper’s left hand ducked beneath his coat. He pulled out a gun not much bigger than his hand.
It spat, not nearly the loud bang Jerome expected. The Azteca warrior staggered back into the bar with a bloody hole in his chest. Pepper walked in, gun still in hand. He fired three more times, looked down at the man on the ground, then walked back out.
He carried the Azteca’s long gun with him.
“Come on,” Pepper said. “You need to introduce me to this man who can find John deBrun. There seems to be an Azteca problem here. We don’t have much time to dally.”
Jerome trembled. “Uncle Harold said ragamuffin and mongoose-men would be out guarding the edge of town. He said it were just a scout party. How that warrior get in?”
He could have died. Right there. And he’d just seen Pepper kill that Aztecan without missing a beat. Again Jerome found himself trying to puzzle out what kind of person Pepper was.
He had to be a soldier.
And should he tell him the truth about his dad?
“I ran into Jaguar scouts coming out here,” Pepper said. “I’m getting to know more about these Azteca than I want. That warrior was a
tlacateccatl
, he commands many warriors. Not a good commander, he’s too far ahead of his men, even if he is a scout. An unblooded warrior. Probably got too excited about making sure he got a couple captures before the general attack. Either way, seeing him, my guess is that a whole army is creeping into this town.” Jerome almost jogged to walk as fast as Pepper. “They would have just secured the town’s border after I got here,” Pepper said. Jerome kept as close to Pepper as he could. He was more scared now than when he went out at night and the wind made his skin prickle. Right by Pepper’s side seemed to be the safest place right now.
tlacateccatl
, he commands many warriors. Not a good commander, he’s too far ahead of his men, even if he is a scout. An unblooded warrior. Probably got too excited about making sure he got a couple captures before the general attack. Either way, seeing him, my guess is that a whole army is creeping into this town.” Jerome almost jogged to walk as fast as Pepper. “They would have just secured the town’s border after I got here,” Pepper said. Jerome kept as close to Pepper as he could. He was more scared now than when he went out at night and the wind made his skin prickle. Right by Pepper’s side seemed to be the safest place right now.
What about Dad back at their house?
Everything around them, the shadows the cheerfully painted buildings cast, the gutters, the faceless windows, everything seemed sinister and dangerous. It destroyed the
comfortable feelings Jerome had about Brungstun. And even though Pepper had saved his life, he still scared Jerome. Even more so now, as Pepper’s face hadn’t even changed when he’d killed the Azteca.
comfortable feelings Jerome had about Brungstun. And even though Pepper had saved his life, he still scared Jerome. Even more so now, as Pepper’s face hadn’t even changed when he’d killed the Azteca.
The waterfront curved out in front of them, menacing and dangerous.
The Azteca had dragged John deeper into the bush that night until they reached a clearing with a large black stone in the middle. This wasn’t a small scout party. John saw enough different Azteca to guess that hundreds of Azteca warriors crept around the bush near Brungstun. Maybe more.
Three sleeping men lay tied next to a downed mango tree. Blood and dirt caked their clothes, but John recognized them as mongoose-men.
John had been shoved against the tree, his cheek scraping bark. A few deft kicks to his knees and stomach dropped him to the ground, and the Azteca scout by his side had bound John’s hands and feet together, then roped him to the mango tree. A warrior clubbed John’s head to knock him out for the night.
It still throbbed when he woke up late in the morning.
John now wriggled his back up against the tree and looked across at the awake mongoose-men.
“What are your names?” he whispered, but they remained silent. “My name is John deBrun. I’m from Brungstun, who are you?”
The man with a battered face next to him looked off in the distance. “Is best we don’t know each other. Trust me.”
“We
have
to get free,” John said. “No one could expect this many Azteca. We have to warn Brungstun that so many are here.”
have
to get free,” John said. “No one could expect this many Azteca. We have to warn Brungstun that so many are here.”
“Shut up, man, just shut up,” a second mongoose-man hissed. “We ain’t escaping, and you ain’t making this easier.”
John’s thighs cramped underneath him. “What do you mean?”
The man next to him, the first to speak, shifted. “Make you peace. Because soon we go die.”
A faint sob, a cough, and silence fell again.
Peace? How? He didn’t remember who most of himself was. He’d settled, taken a family, and been happy. But now that he’d had the barrel of a gun pointed down at him, he felt soft, mushy, unprepared.
Frustrated.
The white-hot feeling made him jittery. Frustrated that with only a few hours left of his life, he still could not remember a thing from before that singular moment when he’d washed up on the Brungstun beach.
A single thing.
At least the men around John had an entire life to regret, or miss. He was going to die not even knowing who he really was. And how selfish, he berated himself, that this frustration ate at him almost as much as the helplessness of being unable to run out and be by his wife, his son.
Azteca moved and shouted. Last night’s captors surrounded the tree and pointed at the four captives, coming to a decision. They sliced the ropes free and made two mongoose-men stand up. To his shame, John felt relief.
As the two men stumbled off, John turned to the man next to him, the only one to talk to him. “Please,” John begged. “Tell me your name.”
The man closed his eyes. “Alex.”
“How many will they take?”
Alex shrugged. “It varies.”
The two men were dragged off around the tree’s branches, out of sight toward the black stone at the center of the clearing. For several minutes only a few jungle birds fluttered and cawed into the silence.
Then the screaming began. It stopped after a high-pitched hiccup, a groan, and a joyful shout in Azteca.
A minute later the second man started screaming.
When that stopped, John and Alex sat with their backs to the mango tree, avoiding each other’s eyes. They remained silent, waiting for the Azteca to come back for them.
It took forever to get closer to the carnival crowd by following the waterfront. All around the gentle U of Brungstun’s edge the warehouses and shops clustered, and then behind them, inching up the coast’s steep slope, the residential areas of town jutted out in cheerful colors highlighted by the drab roads cut into the bright green brush and jungle. Jerome jumped at every sudden noise.
They encountered the edge of the carnival crowd: a couple kissing near a doorway, someone selling fruit on a table where the juices had leaked out and stained it black in patches. Five fishermen milled about, talking about their boats.
Jerome slowed down. “We should warn them,” he said to Pepper. He yelled, “Azteca coming! The Azteca coming!”
No one paid him any attention as they moved farther into the thickening crowd. The more people around, the more the shouting and jumping of carnival drowned out Jerome’s voice. They pushed their way toward the large wooden scaffolds by the bank building and post office.
Jerome couldn’t see Uncle Harold up in the sheltered judges’ benches. Half the judges were gone. Was it because most of the judges were Brungstun ragamuffin and off investigating the gunshots?
Another scream floated over the chaos of carnival. Jerome shoved and elbowed through to the street. He couldn’t see Pepper anymore, but the peacock-costumed woman he’d seen earlier came proudly walking down the street. Behind her a band of women costumed as birds twirled batons with streamers on the end.
Shots echoed from the alleys. People paused. Steel pans fell quiet as three parrot-costumed women at the end of the street turned around. Fifteen men with blue-feathered bamboo masks and stiff cotton pads marched toward them.
“Azteca,” Jerome screamed into the still.
The masked men pulled out clubs and nets. The first one to reach a parrot-costumed woman knocked her out. The two behind him threw a net over her and pulled her down the road, back toward other Azteca stepping into the street. Jerome whirled around. Azteca warriors trickled out from between buildings at the far edges of town. Both sides of the waterfront were blocked. Azteca shadows stood in the alleys. Everyone in Brungstun stood corraled on the waterfront as hundreds of Azteca poured out. They moved into the edges of the crowd, knocking people out with clubs and carrying them away in nets, working at the edges with quick, practiced calm, and stopping anyone from running away. People screamed and babies wailed while everyone shoved at everyone else. The air smelled sour.
Just a few hundred feet from Jerome two farmers with machetes ran forward to slash at one Azteca before getting shot. Blood ran along the cobblestones. A moko jumbie on fire ran toward the pier. He wobbled on his stilts and then fell to the ground. He didn’t get up.
The crowd surged as several thousand people tried to pull back from Azteca nets and weapons. Jerome fought to keep standing.
A hand grabbed Jerome’s collar. He screamed.
“Quiet.” Pepper picked Jerome up, tucked him under an arm, and started running through the crowd. Jerome’s feet slapped against people as they passed, and Pepper paused once to pull out his silent gun to shoot a lone Azteca who had pushed too far into the crowd. The Azteca grabbed for ankles as he fell. People trampled and kicked him.
Pepper ran down to the docks toward the steamboat, but Jerome twisted around. “Take that sailboat,” he yelled, pointing at
Lucita.
“The steamboat take too long to warm up.”
Lucita.
“The steamboat take too long to warm up.”
Pepper dropped him to the dock and Jerome staggered for balance. A splinter caught his heel before he stopped, but he barely noticed it as he jumped into his dad’s boat.
The mast swayed a bit.
“Mr. Pepper,” Jerome yelled. “What about me mother?”
Pepper threw the aft painter into the cockpit. The rope’s end stung Jerome’s cheek. Pepper ran along the dock and grabbed both the bow and mid painter in his two hands. He yanked on them hard and the cleats ripped free with an iron-nailed shriek.
“Pepper! I need to find her.” Jerome’s hands trembled. He grabbed the mast. “She out with the Azteca. What they go do?”
Pepper pushed the boat out from the dock and leapt in, bringing the rear down. Jerome caught his balance. Several others in the crowd were leaping to boats. A crowd had gathered on the steamer and a small trickle of smoke wafted over the boiler.
Jerome ran to
Lucita’
s stern and grabbed the gunwale’s wooden lip. Pepper found the oars, shoved them into place, and began to row. Each strong pull shook them forward away from the dock.
Lucita’
s stern and grabbed the gunwale’s wooden lip. Pepper found the oars, shoved them into place, and began to row. Each strong pull shook them forward away from the dock.
“You have to do what you have to do,” Pepper finally said. “Now would be a good time to jump.”
The oars hit the water, slap, then drained as he lifted them into the air. They bit back down into the water again.
“I’m scared.” Jerome sat down on the rear seat, ready to cry, holding his stomach. His eyes burned.
“Drop the tiller and steer us,” Pepper said.
Jerome turned back around and loosened the rope to the oval-shaped rudder. It splashed down into the water.
Several Azteca in stiff cotton lined up on the waterfront and aimed guns at them. Pepper stopped rowing. His gun huffed a few times and three Azteca fell, one into the water. Others ran for cover, feathers bobbing.
“You know how to get the sail up?” Pepper asked.
“Yeah.”
“Do it.”
Jerome hustled to get the sail unlashed from the boom while staying out of Pepper’s way. Pepper pulled at the oars like mad, pointing them into the wind. Bits of the sail draped over the boat’s side, some dragging alongside in the water.
Dad would have yelled at him.
Jerome cried silently, wiped his eyes on his sleeve, and pulled the sail up as far and as tight as he could while the wind yanked hard at it. The boom swung around and banged. When Jerome tied it down, Pepper pulled in the oars and took the tiller with the mainsheet in his hand. He pulled it in, bringing the boom and sail in closer to the boat.
Lucita
tilted over and picked up speed. Pepper, still calm and serious, sailed them away from the waterfront.
tilted over and picked up speed. Pepper, still calm and serious, sailed them away from the waterfront.
The sun beat down on them. Pepper hadn’t said a word in the last twenty minutes; he lay against the side of the cockpit, one leg steering them upwind, one arm in his jacket, the other trailing in the water. They weren’t really going anywhere, just making three legs of a triangle around and around some imaginary spot in the ocean.
Occasionally Pepper would take out his rubber binoculars and look back at Brungstun.
At one point they’d come near the light water of Severun’s Reef, but without needing a warning, Pepper had tacked hard, the boom swinging violently as the wind eased up on it. He must have known the harbor well.
A dark knot inside Jerome kept threatening more tears. He’d left his mother in Brungstun to die and his dad trapped at the house. He’d seen people die! Get shot. Captured by Azteca. He shivered. The image of blood dripping into the street sewer grate as if it were only so much wastewater, that image he felt he would never shake as long as he lived.
He couldn’t do anything. He had never felt so helpless as he did now.
“How you do it?” Jerome asked Pepper.
“What?” Pepper blinked his gray eyes and looked around.
“Stay calm like that.”
“Damned if I know,” Pepper muttered. “The only other choice is running around screaming.” He scanned the horizon. “Doesn’t look like anyone else made it out of the docks.”
That was what they had been waiting for.
Pepper shifted and adjusted the tiller.
Lucita’s
tiny bow aimed for Frenchi Reef.
Lucita’s
tiny bow aimed for Frenchi Reef.
“Where you from?” Jerome asked. “Out by Capitol City?”
Pepper shook his head. “Further.”
“How much further?”
“What did you learn about in school about where we all came from?”
In school? School taught him the same tale his mother told him.
“We came from the worm’s hole, up in the sky,” Jerome said. “You come from the worm’s hole?”
Pepper nodded. “We came from different places. Some settled in orbit. Others settled up north. Many people from the Caribbean came here to Nanagada, looking for some nice equatorial sun and peace. We were just a tiny bunch of refugee camps and lake fishing villages, hoping we could hide in this far-out corner and be left alone.” Pepper stretched, and the bench beneath him bowed slightly. He eyed the water, then continued, “Very few on Earth knew we were here. Hell, some people in orbit didn’t even know about all the islanders along the coast and jungle. Better times,” he sighed. “Before the wormhole was destroyed.”
Pepper talked as if he had seen these times firsthand.
“They say the old-father didn’t survive them times, just like the machines,” Jerome said. “How come you here?”
“They lie,” Pepper said. “Those of us well protected, those who knew what was about to happen, survived while the Pulse, nukes, and engineered diseases took everyone else. A few survived: some Teotl, Loa, and others like me. Many marooned in hardened escape pods. Three hundred years of floating in space, though, that’ll screw you up.” He snorted. “Here’s the result around us. Mostly only onplanet islanders survived.”
“And Azteca.”
“Yes, them too. When I left, the Azteca were religious fanatics who worshiped the Teotl. Who started breeding and using them as cheap, savage troops. The Teotl love using our weaknesses against us.” Pepper shook his head. “I hope you all have the resources to buck them off the mountains.”
The conversation had returned to things that made sense to Jerome.
“Most of the mongoose-men up in Mafolie Pass, or back around Capitol City them,” he said. This was common knowledge. There were squads scattered all throughout the mountains and lands.
Pepper leaned over and splashed some salt water on his face.
“What we doing now?” Jerome asked. “Hiding on Frenchi Island?”
“No. I’m dropping you off. Giving myself some time to think. Then I need to start looking for John.”
Jerome swallowed. Pepper had saved his life, and he seemed to be honest. “Mr. Pepper.” Pepper raised an eyebrow. “I fibbed you. I know where John deBrun is.”
“You seemed to be holding something back.”
“He …” Jerome’s voice quivered. “That’s my dad, see? He in the house, outside town, last night.” Jerome looked down at the brackish water sloshing about the boards by his feet.
Pepper hit the seat with a fist “That complicates things.”
“I’m … sorry.”
Pepper leaned forward and looked at Jerome, straight in his eyes. “I never would have taken John for the settlingdown kind.”
Jerome avoided the gray eyes. Maybe he should tell Pepper about his dad’s memory loss. Dad and his mother did their best to hide it from him, but he picked it up from their whispered conversations when they thought he wasn’t listening. And the way she looked at Dad’s paintings sometimes. As if they scared her.
But that was something personal. Jerome figured his dad and Pepper could sort that out if they ever met.
If
his dad was alive.
his dad was alive.
Pepper adjusted the tiller. “Tell me what your dad looks like. Describe him to me. I haven’t seen him in a long time.”
Jerome struggled. Dad was just dad. But he did his best and told Pepper about Mom, Dad, his family, and the airship that had floated into the trees behind their house.
When he finished telling Pepper about Dad’s hook, Pepper turned his attention back to sailing, which relieved Jerome. He wanted to go sit on the bow and pretend he was alone on the boat.
When he finished telling Pepper about Dad’s hook, Pepper turned his attention back to sailing, which relieved Jerome. He wanted to go sit on the bow and pretend he was alone on the boat.
Frenchi stood waiting when
Lucita’
s bow struck the sand. Troy walked forward. “Something wrong?” he asked. “Ms. Smith say she see smoke from Brungstun when she was out fishing.”
Lucita’
s bow struck the sand. Troy walked forward. “Something wrong?” he asked. “Ms. Smith say she see smoke from Brungstun when she was out fishing.”
Pepper splashed into the water, his coattails floating on the surface. “Azteca attacked Brungstun. They’re moving along the coast now towards Capitol City, is my best guess.”
Troy had a shotgun behind his back. He pulled it out and aimed it at Pepper. “I know Jerome, here. I don’t know you.”
Pepper held his hands in the air. “Easy. I’m not staying. I’m dropping the kid off.” Jerome bristled at being called a kid. Pepper walked backward. “Jerome, jump off.”
Jerome leapt onto the sand, and Troy put an arm around his shoulder. “You okay?”
Jerome nodded.
“I’m going to leave,” Pepper explained. “I have things to do. But I would appreciate some food. Preferably salted.”
One of the men behind Troy asked, “You going back to fight Azteca?”
Pepper nodded. Then he frowned. “You look familiar,” he told Troy.
Troy ignored him. “Give he all the saltfish and jerky he need. And some johnnycake.” He put down his gun. “That man hard,” he told Jerome. “A killer. Better we help he leave.” He walked back up to his store.
Other books
Medusa - 9 by Michael Dibdin
Choir Boy by Unknown Author
Defiant Peaks (The Hadrumal Crisis) by Juliet E. McKenna
A History of Korea by Professor Kyung Moon Hwang
Witch Lights by Michael M. Hughes
Wild Sorrow by AULT, SANDI
Words That Start With B by Vikki VanSickle
Lisia's Journey by Rebecca Airies
Un ángel impuro by Henning Mankell
The Book of My Lives by Aleksandar Hemon