Scorched: The Last Nomads Page 5

  I looked back to see him ogling the motorcycles.

  “I’m just about done rebuilding the green one. The other is just for parts. But both are pretty much just sculptures unless you have some diesel fuel,” I said.

  “About five gallons, actually.”

  I stopped and turned around. “What?”

  “We have about five gallons of it. The trolley doesn’t use diesel, but we always take whatever we’re given or stumble upon.”

  “If you stay here long enough, I might be able to get it running so we can test it out, presuming you’d let me have a little of that fuel.”

  “Then you better get to work, Red.”

  “You better stay long enough for me to fix it.”

  “Want me to stay, huh? Yeah, all the girls say that,” he said, posturing with mock arrogance.

  I grinned. “Probably. But are any of them redheads?”

  He laughed. “No.”

  “And do any of them have this?” I asked, lifting the roll of wire.

  He grinned. “Definitely not. I can say with certainty that Keyes from The Park is very unlike any of those other girls.”

  “Hmm,” I mused. “And is it that kind of flirting and flattery that gets all the other girls to beg you to stay?” I knew he was playing, so I tried not to let the compliment affect me, but I still felt a flutter in my chest.

  Bodi smirked. “Not quite. I thought I’d try something different on you.”

  “And the result?”

  “Too soon to tell.”

  I tossed the spool of wire to him. “Stop experimenting. Let’s get to work.”

  “As you wish,” he said politely.

  I rolled my eyes at him, causing him to laugh, and we headed back outside.

  Chapter 8

  Getting to work mainly meant I would get to work sitting on the roof of the trolley, or so they called it, while the Dead Troupe set up their stage for that afternoon’s performance. When Legba saw me there working, he gave me an appreciative nod. In fact, once Bodi left me to work, no one bothered me for some time until I finally heard a call of “Oi,” from the ground.

  I had just finished rewiring the output when I heard the call.

  I rose, stretching my back, and looked down to find the twins standing there. My mind went back to the chant we used to sing as a child about the three deadly beauties. In my memories, there were three identical sisters. As it was, two identical pairs of blue eyes stared up at me. What had happened to the third?

  “Hey,” I said carefully.

  “You Keyes?” one of the girls asked.

  I nodded.

  “Of course she is, who else would be on the roof of the trolley? Can you fix, you know, different things?” the second one asked.

  “I can try.”

  One of the girls crawled up the ladder to the roof and pulled a small bundle from her pocket. She handed it to me then sat on the side of the roof, her legs dangling over the edge. I sat down beside her then opened the parcel to find the pieces of a music box.

  “Got any extra bits around that you could use to fix it? It was my mum’s, but it’s missing parts. We haven’t been able to get anything fixed since Howey died.”

  “I think so,” I said, fingering through the pieces. The music box was small and round. The metal on the bottom half was bent where it had either been dropped or run over, the pieces loose. The outside casing, however, was beautiful. Etched in the metal were the masks of comedy and tragedy. “Looks like you’re missing some of the clockwork bits and a spring. I think I have something that will work.”

  “You see. Bodi said she’s handy,” the girl sitting beside me on the roof told her sister.

  “I thought it was just an excuse so he could follow her around. I mean, you are pretty and all, but I didn’t know if you were really good at fixing things or not. No offense,” the sister on the ground said.

  I chuckled, unsure what to say.

  “Now you’re just making her uncomfortable. And, please. Like Bodi would ever consent to lower himself for a groundling. No offense,” the other sister added.

  It suddenly occurred to me that every time a person said “no offense,” there certainly was a bit of offense to it, but rather than getting upset, I tried to pay attention. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your names,” I said, trying to divert the conversation away from Bodi.

  “Lyra,” the sister beside me said.

  “I’m Nara,” the other sister added. “Make sure you stop working and come watch our show this afternoon.”

  “What’s it about?” I asked.

  “And ruin the surprise?” Lyra answered with a smirk then patted me on the shoulder. She then popped off the top of the trolley to the ground. “Thanks for your help, Keyes. You really think you can fix it?”

  I nodded.

  “Thank you,” Nara added, then she and her sister turned to leave.

  “I swear to God, you were so rude,” Lyra told her sister. I wasn’t sure if I was intended to hear the conversation or not, but their voices still rose to me.

  “What? No, I wasn’t,” Nara protested. “You were.”

  “Whatever. She is handy though.”

  “And pretty.”

  “Got Bodi’s attention.”

  “That’s a first.”

  I smirked. Bundling up the music box, I stuck it into one of the pockets on my pants leg then rose. I stretched. My back ached, but I was almost done. I went back to the speakers and sat down once more. I tried to concentrate on the wires, not on the sisters’ words, but they’d proven incredibly distracting. I had no business thinking about Bodi when what I really needed to do was think about getting to Ash. The sister’s words had disrupted that. They were very annoying. No offense. I sat sweating and working for another hour or so before I finally had the thing rewired. Now all I needed to do was test it.

  I climbed down to find the trolley deserted, but the big man from their group was headed my way. I squeezed my hammer tightly and steadied my nerve. He was just big, that was all, nothing to be worried about. Bigger than any man I had ever seen. How in the world did they manage to keep him fed? As well, I noticed that he had a small, swirling tattoo on his forehead around his temple, curling just under his eye. No one at The Park had such skin adornments anymore, but I had seen pictures of tattooed people in the library. I wondered where he had gotten it. I waited patiently while he approached.

  Seeing I wasn’t going to move and that I was looking at him, the man stopped when he reached me.

  “I think I fixed your broken speaker, but I’ll have to test it. Can you help?”

  The man studied me then nodded.

  “I’ll climb back up. If you can turn it on, I’ll test and see if the wires are live. It doesn’t need to be turned on loud.”

  “Okay,” the big man said then stepped into the vehicle. It shifted under his weight.

  I climbed back up on top of the vehicle then set my reader on the wires.

  “Turn it on, please,” I called down.

  A strange static sound crackled. My ears throbbed then popped as the speakers came back to life. I set my gauge on the wires. They were live. A low sound was coming out of both speakers.

  “Fixed,” I called happily. “You can turn it off.”

  The strange static sound stopped, and the light on my gauge went dim. I slid the protective metal shield back in place over the wires and screwed it back on. When I was done, I rose and turned to climb back down once more but paused a moment to take a look at the damaged solar panel. It wasn’t any larger than the panel on the roof of Park Building.

  I needed the Dead Troupe to take me to Low Tide with them. I needed them to say yes, to have a good reason to grant me the small favor. I would fix every broken thing they owned if it meant I had a chance at getting out of here when the time came. I knew Ramsey would ask for their help. I would appeal one last time to get the elders permission, but if they didn’t grant it, I would make my own luck. If the Dead Troupe liked me
, maybe they would be willing to take me to Low Tide. I’d already won a friend in Bodi, and Legba seemed to appreciate my work as well. Now I just had to sweeten the pot. I’d fix the music box for the sisters. And then I would try the nearly impossible task of fixing the solar panel. Surely that would seal the deal, right?

  Pulling out my measuring tape, I quickly measured the broken panel then jumped down.

  The trolley shook as the big man came out. To my surprise, he was smiling.

  “Fixed?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Should be all set now.”

  He reached out and patted me on the head. His hand was bigger than my head. He nodded to me, smiled, then turned and went on his way.

  I grinned at him then headed across the grounds toward Park Building. As I went, Ronan appeared from a side street and trotted over to join me.

  “Good,” I said when I saw him. “I could use extra muscle.”

  “For what?”

  “I need someone to help me bring down one of the solar panels off the top of the Park Building.”

  “Why?”

  “A project.”

  “The Dead Troupe is here, and you’re working on a project?” Ronan said with a chuckle.

  “A few, actually. They have some diesel. If I can get the bike done, maybe they’ll let me borrow some to test it.”

  “I can work on the motorcycle,” Ronan offered. “Since you have your project.”

  I grinned. “Sounds like a plan…right after you help me carry down the panel.”

  Ronan nodded, and we headed into Park Building.

  Since I’d already been working on the panel, it didn’t take much to get it unattached and ready to transport. The electronics attached to it had fried out during the CME, but if time hadn’t ruined the panel itself, maybe there was hope that it could work.

  Ronan and I maneuvered the panel back downstairs and were carrying it across the lawn when we encountered Ramsey and Gutierrez. Ramsey eyed us suspiciously.

  “Keyes? What are you doing?” Gutierrez asked.

  “The Dead Troupe has a solar panel on the top of their trolley. It’s broken. I don’t know if this will work, but I was going to try to fix it.”

  “Where did you get that?” Ramsey asked.

  “From the roof of Park Building.”

  Ramsey frowned. “That seems like something we might need.”

  “There are three more of them up there. The Dead Troupe’s news is invaluable, isn’t it? Shouldn’t The Park be generous in their thanks? That seems like the kind of thing they will remember in the future, who was good to them when it mattered.”

  Ramsey frowned, tucking his chin to his chest, then said, “Very well. But only one. Perhaps you should be working on a way to use the panels to help us with the situation I mentioned to you earlier.”

  I nodded. “I’ve already been considering it, sir.”

  Ramsey nodded. “Very well.”

  I motioned to Ronan, and we continued on our way.

  He was smirking, but he said nothing.

  When we got to the trolley, I found Legba and his daughter standing there.

  “Ah, now, here is Keyes. And Ronan, wasn’t it? Keyes, I am told my speaker is working now thanks to you. And what is this?”

  “Yes, it should be working fine now. And this is a solar panel. I was going to see what I could do about your problem,” I said, pointing to the roof.

  “Very good,” he said then nodded. “You have a garage nearby?”

  I nodded. “Ronan and I have a garage there,” I said, pointing.

  “Manderly, my sweet, please move the trolley to her workshop, so Keyes doesn’t have to keep hauling equipment.”

  I was grateful for his suggestion.

  “Yes, Papa.” The girl said then motioned to Ronan and me. “Lead the way,” she said.

  She stepped up on the footplate on the driver’s side. I watched as she slid a finger along the frame of the door. There must have been a hidden lever there that deactivated the security device.

  Ronan and I carried the panel to the garage, Manderly following along behind us. The movement of the trolley got the attention of the community, but when they spotted Ronan and me hauling…something, they went back to their business. Despite the community’s worries over the Low Tide shipment and the late return of Ash and the others, the arrival of the Dead Troupe had offered some much-needed distraction. Everyone looked happy.

  As we walked, I thought about that little lever in the door. While Low Tide and The Park were peaceful communities, it occurred to me then that the bigger world was, most likely, not all good. Bodi had said Spires, a community in the north, was dangerous. How many other troubled communities were out there? What if the marauding had started again? What if Ash had run into trouble?

  “Keyes?” Ronan said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Is it too heavy? You’re frowning.”

  “No, I… Sorry, lost in thought.”

  Ronan sighed heavily, guessing where my mind had gone. “It’s going to be okay,” he told me for what felt like the hundredth time. I wished everyone would stop telling me that.

  “Pull up by the door,” Ronan yelled to Manderly as he and I took the panel inside the garage.

  We set the piece down carefully.

  “May need to weld it,” Ronan said.

  I frowned. Welding was hazardous. I had rebuilt the mechanism inside the portable welding torch, but using propane and fire along with shoddy materials was always a risk. Dammit, why did everything have to be so broken?

  “Good here?” Manderly asked, clicking off the ignition.

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  She got out of the vehicle and looked around at the garage. She then turned her attention to me. She had the same dark eyes as her father. They seemed to see a lot more than what was on the surface of the world. “Is the trolley safe here?” she asked.

  Is she deciding whether or not to reset the traps? “The Park is a peaceful community. At worst, the kids might get curious. That’s all,” I said.

  She nodded, crossed her arms, and then leaned against the vehicle. “Be nice to hunker down somewhere safe for a bit. But Papa says you had some people go missing.”

  A breath caught in my throat. I coughed. “I…yeah. We were expecting a shipment from Low Tide. They never showed. Some people from here made the trek over, but never came back.”

  “How long ago?”

  “A little more than a week.”

  Manderly nodded. “Probably just late.”

  “Could be, but my sister was one of the ones who went. She wouldn’t dally. And she would know that dallying would make everyone worry.”

  “Could be trouble then,” Manderly said thoughtfully.

  I nodded.

  “So, which is it?” she asked, looking pointedly at me. Her eyes gazed deeply into mine.

  “Trouble.”

  She studied my face then mused a “hmm,” as she dragged her foot across the ground, drawing shapes in the dirt.

  “Have the elders talked to your father about it yet?” I asked tepidly.

  Behind me, Ronan was looking over the bike and pretending not to listen.

  “They asked,” the girl said, still drawing in the dust.

  I waited.

  Manderly finished her drawing then stared down at the shape in the dust. A sharp wind blew across the grounds, stirring up the dirt, erasing part of her drawing.

  The girl nodded then smiled a wide, toothy grin. “And we’ll go. So. The trolley is here. I’ll be back at the stage if you need anything. You’re Keyes, right?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “I’m Manderly. Let me know if you need anything,” she said then turned and walked away.

  Perplexed, I looked at Ronan who shook his head.

  I stared down at the remaining figure Manderly had drawn on the ground. I didn’t recognize it, but I saw enough to know it wasn’t just a random sketch. She had drawn something…well, I didn
’t know what. Arcane, maybe? That wasn’t the right word. But something.

  Turning my attention away, I refocused on my next task, fixing the panel.

  As the day pressed on, the others began to gather at the stage to watch the Dead Troupe’s performance. I, however, was sitting on the roof of the trolley wearing a welding mask and praying that the propane tank in my hand did not explode when I lit the burner. There was no sign of rust that I could see, and I’d checked the internal pieces once more to ensure I had rebuilt it right. I swallowed hard and lit the tip.

  The blue flame sparked to light.

  Working carefully, I removed the old solar panel and set it aside. It was completely useless save stripping it down for its components. I mounted on the new panel, welded it in place, and began reworking the crumbling materials.

  Behind me, I heard Legba calling everyone to the show. There were laughs and cheers as everyone made their way.

  “Keyes,” Ronan called up from the ground.

  Sure the piece was steady, I put out the torch and set it safely aside. I lifted the mask and looked down at him.

  “Take a break. Samara wants to go see the show.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll come in a bit,” I called, waving to him.

  I lowered the mask and got to work once more. There would be no way to test the panel until tomorrow. I would have to see if the machine was still capable of converting the solar power or not. If the Dead Troupe’s mechanic had reworked the converter since the CME, it was entirely possible that all they needed was a new panel. It could work just fine. Or, it could not work at all. I’d have to wait until tomorrow to find out.

  Sweating, I worked a bit more until I had all the pieces in place then sat back. I pulled off the mask and set the torch aside again. Picking up my canteen, I sipped some water, frowning at the sharp taste. Maybe if I got a look at the internal mechanism of the solar conversion for the trolley, it would help me design something for the well. Da Vinci’s mirrors were simply not cutting it at the moment. But there was something to be said for using solar energy to help with the water issue.

  There was a boom of fire behind me then a round of applause.

  Standing, I walked over to the corner of the trolley. The roof was covered with supplies hidden under tarps, mysterious lumps protecting who knew what. Stepping carefully around them, I went to the very corner of the roof. From there, I got a look at what all the fuss was about.