LONG ROAD AHEAD

3

Craven sat in the corner of the bar with his back to the wall sipping the lousy soup the house wench had brought him. He had rescued her daughter from certain slavery the year before. Out of gratitude, the woman and her husband always let Craven eat for free when he passed through town. Something he was grateful for when he was short on funds. He needed to pick up another job to put some coin in his pocket once more.

            The house wench placed a full mug of grog on the table next to him with a warm smile. He thanked her and ate up. He was starving. The hunt last night had proven fruitless, and Craven had been forced to go hungry until he reached the next town. Craven lifted the spoon to his mouth, noticing another man enter the bar. From his vantage point, he noticed everything. He paid little attention to the newcomer than to notice him wander up to the bar and address the owner.

            He did, however, take a special interest in the fact that the owner pointed him out to the man, and they both looked in Craven’s direction. Suddenly Craven took great interest in the man now walking en route to his table. He was older with dark thinning hair. His face was sunken and pale, almost tired and sickly. He coughed once before reaching the table as he stood before Craven. “I hear you are the man to talk to when one has a problem that needs taken care of.”

            “I might be,” he said, gesturing to the other seat at his table. “What sort of problem might you have?” Craven inquired.

            The man took the seat next to Craven, drawing his dark brows together with anger. “A thief,” he said bitterly.

            “A thief?”

            “I was robbed last night.”

            “People are robbed every day. That is hardly worth hiring a man like me?” Craven pointed out. The price of hiring him to track down the thief would, without a doubt, be more than what the thief took him for. It simply was not worth the hassle.

            “What the thief took from me is priceless. I want it back,” the man said. “By any means necessary.”

            His interest was piqued. Normally Craven could not care less about people’s motives, but this one intrigued him. What could this thief have taken that was worth so much? “What did they take?”

            “A book,” he said.

            “Of great value?” Craven asked.

            “It holds sentimental value. I want it back.”

            Craven did not understand, but he supposed it did not matter so long as the man could pay his fee. “It won’t be cheap,” he said.

            “I know. Lector from Grandor told me you have a hefty fee. I will pay it upon delivery,” he swore.   

            “Twenty gems and fifty gold pieces upon delivery. If I arrive and you do not have my fee in full, I will burn your book. Are we clear?” Craven said firmly on the matter. He did not play games or accept excuses when it came to getting paid.

            “Crystal,” the man nodded.

            Craven took another mouthful of his soup. “So, tell me, what does this thief look like?”

            “Blonde,” the man began, “with long hair, grey eyes like smoke. She is small and healthy,” she? Again, his interest was piqued. This thief sounded very much like the one who had picked his very own pockets just yesterday. If so, this girl had been busy. “She carries a bow and wears a light grey cloak,” it was the same thief. “She said her name was Jezebel.” Likely it was a false name. A young woman alone, if she had any sense, would not give her real name to a man she intended to rob.

            “You spoke with her?”

            “Yes, the little tart invited me up to her room then poisoned me. I was incapacitated while she stole my satchel,” he said bitterly. So that was why he was so bitter. He had expected to get some love from a beautiful young woman but ended up trick rolled. Craven supposed that would make any man testy.

            “And what of this thief? When I catch up to her, what do you want me to do with her?” He asked, clarifying the details of their agreement.

            “Bring her back. I want to kill her myself. Of course, if you must kill in the retrieval of the book, I will understand. Just bring me back the book in one piece. That is the first priority,” he stressed.

            “Very well,” Craven agreed. “Do you know which way she went?”

            “No,” he sighed. That made things more difficult. “But if I had to guess, I would say north.”

            “Why north?” Craven asked.

            The man shrugged. “She was talking about someplace in the north,” he lied. Craven could tell the man knew something he was not sharing. He supposed it did not matter why he knew she would head north only that he knew she had. Craven would finish his meal then start walking north and track down this pretty little thief.        

***

            Phoenix sat beside the fire looking through the pages of the book. The drawings were interesting. The pictures of animals, some she had seen but were very rare to find in the wasteland; and others she had only heard of in stories. There were pictures of trees, some full of leaves of all sorts, and others covered different types of pine needles. There were depictions of beautiful birds, not like the birds of prey that were commonplace in the wasteland.

            There were many pages with detailed maps sketched upon the worn paper. Some of the land she recognized and some of it she did not. She studied the pages closely, trying to figure the maps out. She was determined to learn to read these maps; she was going to find her way to Cyprus.

            Phoenix had spent eighteen years in this desert hell. If there really was a paradise on this earth, she wanted a piece of it. She was tired of struggling. Tired of fighting every day of her life just to survive. She was sick to death of eating rotting meat, of seeing nothing but grey dead trees, dusty desert, and endless ruins. She had no idea what the world had once looked like, but she knew one thing for sure, their ancestors had done a fine job of destroying it. Everything on this earth was dead or dying.

            She flipped to the next page, looking at the next map. She recognized some of the landmarks, but they were all hot spots — areas with high concentrations of radiation. Only a fool would wander through there. It was probably how Adam had ended up getting so sick. If what he said was true and he had not grown up in the wasteland, he would not have known to avoid the hotspots. He had unwittingly exposed himself to high levels of radiation, making himself sick, the darn fool.

            Phoenix suddenly sat deathly still, her breath quiet as she listened. She had heard a sound in the distance, she was sure. Quietly listening, she sat still waiting. Suddenly she heard it again, to the left of her in the dark came a scuttling sound. Her heart jumped into her throat, Scorpios! They must have smelled the smoke from the fire.

            Phoenix jumped to her feet, kicking dirt into the small fire to put it out. She then tossed the book back into the satchel and tossed it over her shoulder. Picking up her bow and quiver, Phoenix grabbed her shotgun, quickly loading it. Again, she heard another scuttling sound, this time to her right and much closer. Then another in front of her. There was more than one, and they were surrounding her.

            Phoenix started to back up, keeping her gun ready to fire. She could appreciate that everything needed to eat, but she was not about to become something’s dinner. She kept backing up quickly, trying to make her escape before the Scorpios made their appearance. They were nasty creatures almost as big as a man, with black bug-like features. Six pointed legs and that long tail like a scorpion with poisonous venom that paralyzed their victims so they could eat them alive. Many a traveller had lost their lives to Scorpios or one of the many mutated creatures that roamed the wasteland.

            Phoenix moved quickly out of the rocky terrain she had been in. The scuttling grew closer. She was being followed. Suddenly she heard the noise above her, and Phoenix looked up at the huge rock that she was standing beside to see a large nasty Scorpio looking down at her and hissing. She pointed her shotgun upward and fired, killing it.

            Another jumped out from behind it, landing in front of her. Phoenix reloaded quickly, pulling back the lever ejecting the spent casing and place a new cartridge in the chamber, never once taking her finger off the trigger. Phoenix fired again, missing it as the beast swung its poisonous tail. Dodging the attack, Phoenix pulled back on the lever and opened fire, wounding it. She started to run as she searched her pockets for more ammunition. She reloaded then stopped, turned, took aim, and fired again, stopping the creature dead just in time to see three more come out from behind the large rocks she had just fled from.

            Phoenix pulled back on the lever and loaded the chamber once more, then she fired, again and again, killing two of the three. The third was on her in no time. Phoenix fell back on the ground as she pulled back on the lever. The Scorpio landed a foot away from her. Its tail came down fast and hard atop Phoenix. She rolled to the left, and the spiked tip of the tail drove into the ground next to her. Rolling back onto her back, Phoenix fired again, blowing the beast away from beneath it.

            Phoenix heard the sickening sound of hundreds of scuttling legs. She looked back at the rocks and watched in horror as numerous more poured over the rocks. “Oh, no!” There were not enough bullets in her arsenal to deal with these numbers. She scrambled to her feet and began to run as fast as her boots would carry her. There must have been a nest nearby. It was the only thing that could account for the large number in which they attacked her.

            Phoenix scrambled to her feet to run. She opened the satchel removing three of the grenades she found inside. She pulled the pins throwing them behind her hoping to thin their numbers enough to get away. She pushed on, running as hard and as fast as she could. The blast behind her shook things up, and she stumbled. Phoenix wished it had stopped the Scorpios, but at best, it had slowed them down, and she was out of grenades. Running for her life was the only option she had left.