The Arrivals

Chapter 27

When Chloe reached the ground floor, she half expected to see one of the Arrivals in the tavern, but none of them were in sight. Maybe they were all together dealing with whatever crisis had necessitated summoning Jack. Maybe some of them were out doing God knows what. All Chloe knew for certain was that if she stayed in the tavern, she’d be sampling whatever local liquor they had, and while that was a tempting idea, she’d already had Verrot—which hadn’t exactly been a consequence-free experience. For that matter, neither had her bender back in D.C.; drinking there or here simply wasn’t a good idea.

Somehow the fact that she had been in bed with Jack only minutes ago seemed more surreal than anything else that had happened since she’d woken up in this strange world. Unfortunately, it also seemed less surprising. She’d long ago stopped trying to pretend she was attracted to good men. Her dating record was a series of bad and worse decisions. She could blame a few of them on drunkenness, but the rest were some sort of quirk of biology: nice guys didn’t attract her—or find her attractive. If substituting her for a dead girlfriend was the worst thing Jack did, he’d be one of the least awful of her mistakes. Bobby had failed to mention that the packages she’d picked up from his friend were kilos; Michael had forgotten to mention that when he said “ex-wife” he meant “wife who was all too happy to stab a girl for screwing him.” Allan had spent more years in prison than he had in school. Isaiah was a great guy—up until he got so strung out that he half dragged, half carried her through a parking lot to an ATM so she’d withdraw money for his fix. They all seemed nice when she’d met them, often a little rough around the edges, but she was more comfortable with guys who filled out a pair of jeans. Men in suits, on the other hand, usually made her nervous. She’d only dated two suits: the first one was Jason, whom she’d killed; the second one screwed her boss and sent Chloe out on the bender that led to ending up in the Wasteland. In jeans or suits, the men she liked were trouble through and through.

“You’d think I’d get a goddamn clue,” she muttered.

She stood motionless at the foot of the stairs. Maybe it was the Verrot wearing off, or maybe it was being in a weird new world, or maybe it was falling into a bed with another in the list of bad choices, but she just wanted to run away and hide. Running would attract even more attention, though, so Chloe smiled at several of the people in the low-lit room. Then she straightened her shoulders and walked purposefully toward the exit, ignoring the watchful gazes of the tavern dwellers. There were those who looked like men and others she wasn’t sure how to identify. She didn’t know exactly what defined a man. The large-eared, short, stocky beings who stood in the darker shadows and the slightly willowy ones who stayed near the few windows all looked mostly human until she let her gaze linger. Small details became more obvious with a closer look, and soon she wasn’t sure which was the more unsettling: the “slightly other” creatures or the vastly different ones like the bloedzuigers. Somehow, she’d come a world away from the home she’d known, yet here she was feeling the same flash of hurt and anger.

And as she had experienced at home, she found herself needing to walk in order to clear her head. This time she wasn’t looking for a tavern at the end of the walk. That was progress. She’d clear her head, and when she got back to the inn, she’d pretend none of the nonsense with Jack had happened. That plan made better sense than the path she’d been on before she and Jack were interrupted.

Chloe stepped outside into the full desert sunlight and blinked against the brightness. The harshness of it reminded her that she didn’t know enough about the desert to set out across it. The Wasteland was filled with monsters, and the few bullets she had in her gun weren’t going to get her very far. Maybe she could stay in town; she’d just need to find someone willing to hire her so she could earn enough to afford food and shelter. She needed to find her feet. That meant finding some independence, and that required a job.

She stepped into the street and started walking. She didn’t have a lot of skills that seemed likely to be useful here—modern technology wasn’t something she’d seen any evidence of so far—but she could carry a tray or push a broom. She was walking down a different street than the one she’d traversed with Jack a few hours earlier, but she’d yet to see a sign advertising work. Much to her relief, she’d also not seen Hector or Melody.

At the next intersection, Chloe found a man strolling toward her with a friendly look on his face. He smiled but didn’t bow his head in that almost old-fashioned way of so many people here.

She smiled politely as he approached.

“You’re Chloe, right? Kitty’s friend? I heard she was in Gallows with someone new.” He held out his hand. “I’m Daniel.”

Chloe hesitated, but then shook his hand. “Hi.”

“Is Kitty still in one of the shops?” Daniel looked at the nearby buildings before lowering his voice conspiratorially and adding, “She does have a habit of getting caught up in her shopping sometimes. I’ve spent a good number of hours standing in the street just like you waiting on her to decide between things, only to find that she’d bought both rather than choosing one.” He laughed quietly.

Chloe smiled. “I’m not sure where she is right now. I was just taking a walk.”

Daniel frowned a little before offering, “May I escort you, then?”

“I’m not going anywhere in particular,” she hedged. Daniel seemed nice enough, but she wanted to be left alone.

“First time in Gallows?” he pressed.

She nodded.

“It’s not always safe for strangers to be out on their own here. I can show you the high points until Kit’s free. Come on.” He turned and started traveling back in the direction he’d just come from. When she didn’t follow him, he queried, “Unless you were meeting someone else . . . ?”

“No.”

After a slight pause, he smiled cheerily at her and added, “Then here we are.” He pointed toward a market of some sort. “That’s Billbee’s. They specialize in local produce, but sometimes they carry luxuries from out past the Divide. Fair prices.” He pointed at a dark-shuttered building that she’d have assumed was closed. “That’s Mill’s place. He handles money lending around here. Privacy guaranteed, but the rates are absurd.”

Chloe was struggling to be friendly. Daniel seemed like a nice enough man, and he certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes. Maybe he’d be a nice distraction from the confusing way she felt about Jack. She flushed guiltily at that thought. Daniel was a friend of Kitty’s, and he was offering to help her, and she was coldly thinking of him as a distraction.

“Chloe?” Daniel prompted. “Are you all right?”

“It’s been a difficult couple of days,” she admitted.

Daniel paused, as if he were considering the situation. Then he suggested, “Join me for a meal? I’m staying at the edge of Gallows, and my host has a comfortable sitting room and a wonderful cook.”

“I don’t know.” She folded her arms over her chest. Partly, she thought that a harmless distraction was exactly what she needed. It had been a lousy few days, and a good meal with a friendly Wastelander sounded nice. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she could trust this guy that easily. “I’m not very good company today, and I’m sure you have better things to do.”

“Better than time with a beautiful woman?” He laughed softly. “There aren’t too many things better than that, especially in the Wasteland.”

“I’m not . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t know you.”

“We can go ask Kitty or one of the others about me. Better yet, if you want, you go, and I’ll just wait right here,” Daniel offered.

For a moment, Chloe considered it. Going back, though, wasn’t something she was ready to do just yet. “I wanted to look around at jobs. I just got into town, and I should concentrate on getting settled,” she hedged. It wasn’t an excuse, not completely at least.

Daniel smiled at her. “I’ve lived here for years, Chloe. I can help you with that one too.”

“Why?”

“You’re a friend of Kitty’s, and Gallows can be rough, and none of the Arrivals are here with you.” He seemed like a nice enough man as he implored, “Join me, please? You look like you could use a friend, and I know what that feels like.”

“Okay,” she said quietly, deciding to trust her instincts. “An actual meal sounds nice, but I need to let them know where I went.”

“Of course!” Daniel looked around, and then he beckoned a man over to them. “Could you take a message to”—he glanced at Chloe—“the Gulch House, I assume? That’s usually where Kitty stays.”

Mutely, Chloe nodded.

“Tell Katherine Reed, the Arrival woman, that her friend Chloe is joining me for dinner,” Daniel said. He glanced at Chloe, smiled, and then added, “Oh, and let Kitty know that she’s welcome to join us as well.”

They were in a desert where a harsh sun beat down and the simple act of breathing caused sweat to trickle down Chloe’s skin. Despite that, Daniel offered her his arm, a gesture as out of place in the desert as everything else about him. After a moment’s hesitation, she took it. The material of his shirt felt like silk of some sort, slithery soft under her hand.

As they walked through the dusty town, Chloe weighed her words carefully. She had only one gun and a few bullets, and she was walking through a strange town with a man she’d only just met. She’d already given her trust too easily to the other man she’d met here. “I don’t trust you,” she said levelly. “I’m agreeing to dinner, but that doesn’t mean we’re friends or anything—or that I’ll be giving up my gun.”

“That’s logical.” Daniel gave her a sympathetic smile. “You should keep your gun. This is a dangerous world.”

Chloe nodded, feeling both appeased and foolish.

“I know you’re one of them,” Daniel continued. “Gallows is a small town, and anything to do with the Arrivals elicits interest. What year are you from?”

“Two thousand and thirteen,” she murmured.

He nodded. “Things there are probably a lot different there than here. I think it was easier for the others. This world is more familiar to those who lived in harsher times.”

“Some things are timeless,” she suggested, thinking about the way she felt for Jack, the way the natives looked at her and the other Arrivals, the simple need to find food and shelter no matter when or where a person was.

“I can’t imagine it’s been easy,” Daniel murmured.

A trio of women and one creature of indeterminate gender waved and called to them from a balcony.

“Do you know them?” Chloe asked.

“They’re doxies,” Daniel said conversationally. “Not one of the worst of the brothels, but one that caters to unusual appetites.”

“Oh.” Chloe looked again at the four beings. Nothing about their dress or the building confirmed his claim, but nothing disproved it either.

They walked in silence until they reached a building that was much nicer than anything else Chloe had seen. Where the other structures all looked weathered, this one looked like it had been recently constructed.

“Here we are,” he said. “Would you like to eat first or enjoy a hot bath? The servants can prepare one for you, and I suspect you might enjoy washing away the sand.”

Chloe blinked at him. “This is your home?”

“No. I’m just staying here.”

As they approached the building, a servant opened the door. Just inside the door another waited to remove their shoes and wash their feet. At the same time a third servant brushed their clothing off, and the servant who’d opened the door swept the dust outside. Chloe didn’t know whether this was ostentation or practicality. If she and Daniel kept their footwear on, they’d track dirt and sand everywhere.

One of the servants said, “We prepared your bath.”

Daniel caught Chloe’s gaze. “Why don’t you take it? I’ll wait for you in the conservatory.” When she hesitated, he added, “You’ll feel refreshed. Then we’ll dine, talk, and relax. Maybe Kitty will even arrive by the time you join me.”

The temptation was hard to resist. After the hours of fever and the fights, an actual soak in a tub would be wonderful. She’d bathed in the tent, but it hadn’t been a proper shower. “Thank you,” she said.

And just like that, she was whisked away by yet another servant. As she followed the silent woman through the darkened hallway, Chloe had to admit to herself that this was a vast improvement over both the camp where she’d been staying and the Gulch House.