Robinson Crusoe 2245: (Book 2) (23 page)

And yet neither of them spoke.

Friday’s breathing was ragged, worse than the day Robinson had first met her. He wondered if she had taken in too much water at the pool or if she had a disease of the lungs. Whatever the case, he knew she wouldn’t be able to travel far.

And yet, defying odds was what Friday did. When the pass eventually opened, the water widened and rose to their knees. The wind continued to blow and both were cold, but they did not stop until they came to an old bridge, its belly caved in long ago.

“Here,” Friday said. “We will rest.”

They climbed into the recess beneath the bridge. A small furrow gave them shelter from the wind, the cold, and the eyes of others. There were no blankets to be had, and they couldn’t risk a fire, so Robinson pulled Friday tightly to him, wrapping both arms around her.

They lay there for some time, shivering and quaking but wanting to be no other place in the world.

Finally, Friday whispered, “I knew you would come.”

Robinson felt like sobbing in that instant but held it back. He had traversed thousands of miles to find her, and in that time, he’d never once succumbed to weakness. It was the second greatest gift she had given him. He wouldn’t break that covenant now that he was in her arms.

Their hands ran tenderly over each other in the dark, both realizing they hadn’t even laid eyes on the other.

“Your hair is so short,” he said.

“And yours so long,” she replied.

They laughed.

Robinson pulled Friday to him again. Her breath warmed his chest and neck. He took several deep inhalations. He wasn’t even aware of what he was doing until he found it. Beneath the scent of water and dirt, blood and sweat, was the essence of her.

Only then did he close his eyes.

That night, Robinson dreamt of the river. Not the Missup, but the one in D.C., where Friday had nearly been swept away and he had leapt after her without a second thought. Only this time, when she rushed by him, their two hands failed to touch and she disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

His eyes jolted open as his head shot up and smashed into the bottom of the bridge. He cried out.

Then he heard a snort.

Robinson turned to see Friday watching him.

“Oww,” she mocked.

Robinson chuckled with the memory of how many times she’d chided him for reacting to pain.

The sun had barely cracked the surface of the horizon, but the light was enough for them to see each other for the first time. Robinson felt his heart flutter. They both looked so different. Friday was thin, her cheekbones poking from her skin. And Robinson had grown into even more of a man. Neither knew what to say.

Finally, Friday broke the silence.

“We should leave soon,” she said. “But first, eat.”

She revealed a handful of berries, likely foraged while Robinson slept.

“You eat them,” Robinson said. “I can wait.”

Her mouth set in a hard, familiar way, but her eyes were soft. She couldn’t be mad at him. Not here and now.

“I’ve eaten enough,” she said before handing the berries to him. “When you’re finished, we must go.”

“Where are we headed?” Robinson asked as he swallowed the berries.

“In the old days, we would stick to the rivers, but Arga’Zul will send warriors out in every direction. Our best chance is to head north.”

“What about Cowboytown?” he asked. Friday looked confused. “The train people. Their leader helped me get into the city. After the way things went down last night, she’ll be needing allies as badly as we do.”

“We are better on our own,” Friday said. “Some Aserra tribes used to come this far east. It may be that they still do. They will have left signs. If I can find one, it might lead us to them.”

Robinson agreed and started to rise when Friday reached for him. She was not a woman prone to sentiment, but her eyes were moist. Robinson reached out and took her face with both hands before kissing her gently. “My sun and moon,” he whispered.

“My wind and my rain,” she answered back.

“Nothing will ever separate us again.”

“May the Goddess pity any who tries.”

The fastest route north were the ancient streets, though they were broken and made for hard traveling.

Friday searched through old buildings until she rooted a Render from its hovel. When it was dead, she wiped its blood over both their bodies. The smell was atrocious, but it was the best deterrent to dogs tracking their scent.

On the third evening of their flight, the pair stumbled across an old winter lodge, where they lit their first small fire. Friday caught several small rodents to cook over the flames.

“Stop,” she said without turning.

“What?” Robinson asked. “I can’t look at you?”

Her hand went to her face subconsciously, but Robinson pulled it gently away.

“You have never looked more beautiful,” he said. He meant it.

She rushed him this time, her mouth greedily seeking out his. Her hands tore at his clothes, and soon they were both naked. Friday’s skin felt hot to his touch, her mosaic of scars shimmering like stars against the firelight. The floor was cold at first, but their heat warmed it quickly, until they were both consumed by a passion that reached fevered heights.

The next morning, Robinson was cleaning his pistol on the floor when Friday woke.

“What happened to your second axe?” she asked.

Robinson groaned and said, “I lost it in the river.” Then he patted the gun on his hip. “But Boss—the woman who runs Cowboytown
—
gave me this.”

“I am not liking this woman you speak so often of,” Friday said.

Robinson laughed.

“Jealous? An Aserra princess like you?”

Friday’s mouth fell flat, and Robinson knew he was in for a beating.

“Okay, okay!” He laughed, holding his hands up. “Before you pummel me, maybe you should take a look at this.”

He pulled the prophet’s map from its case.

“The City of the Pyramid is here—what used to be Memphis. It looks like we took this route and came out somewhere in this area. Any idea where your people might be?”

She ran her finger over the map.

“They move with the seasons, but often return to areas where there is good hunting or shelter. This time of year, they would be heading south and may be in this area.”

“South Carolina,” Robinson said. “That’s east of here. I don’t see any reason why we can’t head in that direction. If we run into them, great, but even if we don’t, we could easily disappear in these mountains.”

She nodded. As he returned the map to the waterproof bag, she remembered something.

“Oh. I have something too.”

She pulled several folded pieces of paper out of her clothes. One of these also looked like a map, but there were annotations in ink written all over it.

“Where did you get this?” Robinson asked.

“I took it off the man you call Saah.”

Robinson nodded. “I figured he was there. I saw Jaras right before the explosions went off. He didn’t—”

“He is still a boy. But the hate in his heart for you runs deep.”

“I was there when his sister died,” Robinson said. “I’m pretty sure he blames me.”

“The Goddess keeps score of our debts. For each of us, there is a day of accounting.”

“But not today?”

“Not today.”

They set off after another quick hunt that netted them a fox and two squirrels. Weapons had been impossible to find, so Friday toted Robinson’s axe, while he carried his sling. He had twenty-two bullets left for his pistol. He didn’t want to use any unless absolutely necessary.

Late afternoon on the fifth day after their escape, they were walking down the road east, sticking under the cover of trees for shade when Friday stopped. Her eyes narrowed, and she looked around.

“What is it?” Robinson asked.

Across the giant broken road, a slice of trees skirted an open field. Friday looked back toward the lone building there and its half orange globe propped high in the sky. Finally, she shook her head and said, “Nothing.”

But later that night, the pair didn’t stop until they found a tall tower from the road. They climbed it and looked back out over the rolling hills.

“No fire tonight?” Robinson asked.

“We need more rest,” Friday said. “We’re safe up here.”

Robinson wasn’t sure he saw the point. They hadn’t seen a single Bone Flayer since they left the City of the Pyramid. But he knew better than to question her.

Instead, Robinson set out the sack rolls they’d fashioned from old, foraged clothes and they lay side by side. Friday didn’t seem to be in the mood for conversation. Robinson assumed it was fatigue. Unbeknownst to him, sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. She had begun to worry that morning that they were being stalked. And she’d decided to stay awake that night to find out if it was true and who or what was responsible.

Hours later, a fog had settled in and Robinson was asleep. Friday’s eyelids were growing heavy when she heard a rustle in the bushes below them.

Friday inched to the railing and peered over the side. At first she saw nothing, but then a form moved out of the shadows. It was on all fours and was very large. A bear, maybe, or bobcat, though she’d never seen one so big. It was sniffing the earth around the base of the tower, and when it reached the staircase, it finally looked up, and Friday saw its eyes glow in the moonlight. Friday gripped her weapon, but the creature—or whatever it was—retreated and never made another sound.

It was raining when they set out the next day, so they dredged up an old plastic tarp to keep dry. As they walked, Robinson noticed Friday kept looking over her shoulder.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Is your weapon ready?”

“It’s loaded, yes. Why?”

“Don’t look back, but we are being hunted.”

Robinson felt his heart begin to race.

“Flayers?” he asked.

Friday shook her head.

“Something else,” she said.

They continued down the open road. They saw grassland on both sides of them, but no shelter. Then an old road appeared, leading to some strange, dilapidated structures. A faded sign read:
WildBrush Amusement Park
. Rising behind it were the remains of an ancient skeletal structure that swooped like a metallic snake, broken in places but still standing in others. Other steel-framed structures and a collection of small buildings dotted a squat hill with a good view of the entire valley.

“There,” Friday said.

“That’s a lot of open ground to cover,” Robinson pointed out. “Can we make it?”

“We’ll have to. This thing has been pursuing us for two days but has avoided attacking when we were out in the open. It either knows you have a weapon of distance or does not have one itself. But it’s getting impatient. Even now, I can hear it moving faster. When we reach the road ahead, run.”

Robinson nodded, his fingers itching over the butt of the pistol.

“Will it fire?” Friday asked.

“Should, unless the cartridges got wet. And there hasn’t been enough sunlight to power the laser sight.”

“A steady hand is sight enough,” Friday said. “When we turn, hand me your axe.”

Robinson nodded.

The rain picked up as they approached the turnoff, and the drone of it slapping mud eclipsed everything else. During the final five hundred paces, Robinson fought the temptation to look over his shoulder.

Friday was barefoot, her feet splashing through puddles that must have been freezing, but she showed no effect.

Their pace quickened. When they finally reached the road, Robinson pulled the axe and handed it to Friday as they sprinted for the park’s entrance road.

Robinson glanced back briefly but saw nothing in pursuit. And then a roar spilled out over the field as something bolted from the grass. Robinson pulled his pistol and fired a single shot behind him, but the thing moved across the field like a blur.

An old metal gate leaned, canted, at the mouth of the park, held together with a chain and metal lock. Robinson slid to a halt as Friday crawled underneath the ancient fence.

The rain continued to plummet from black clouds, making visibility difficult. Several buildings down, Robinson saw a fence bulge as a shadow scaled it in one smooth leap and disappeared on the other side.

“Whatever it is,” Robinson said, “it’s inside.”

Friday nodded as they pushed deeper into the park.