Trail of Lightning

Chapter 17

“What happened back there?”

We are in the truck, retracing our route from yesterday, south to Tse Bonito. My shotgun’s back on the rack where it belongs and I have extra ammo, my special shot and plain old normal, in containers of twenty-four each under the seat. The Glock is tucked in the door pocket, the lockbox feeling too distant for my liking today. Coyote’s mysterious bag of hoops is wedged behind the driver’s seat, and Kai’s tote full of CDs sits at his feet.

I haven’t spoken a word to Kai since we left the house. I can’t. The embarrassment of my panic attack feels like bubbling acid in the pit of my stomach. I tell myself it’s the memories that Coyote stirred up, the bloody dreams, but I’m worried. I know how close I walk the line sometimes, and it feels like it’s getting worse. But I can’t tell Kai all that.

“I’m not good before my first cup of coffee,” I joke.

“No shit.” He’s not laughing, but he seems more curious than angry, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to push me for a real answer. I give him a grateful smile, try to convey my apology. It comes slowly, but he gives me something like a smile back.

“You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

“What?”

“If that’s what’s freaking you out. I said I’d be your partner and I meant it.” His lips curl up. “Despite the knife to the throat.”

“I think it’s best if we skip the partner thing,” I tell him. “I appreciate the offer, but . . .” I shake my head. These days I’m not fit company for anyone who might break as easily as Kai Arviso.

“So does that mean you decided to take that job for Coyote?”

I frown, surprised. “How do you know about that?”

“Coyote mentioned it on his way out last night. Plus, I listened at the door before I came in. Canyon de Chelly. Níłch’i. Do you think you can do it?”

“You were listening at the door?” Some of my guilt at holding Kai at knifepoint seeps away.

“And then I looked in the bag too. The one Ma’ii left. You know, I think I know what those hoops are. Something I recognize from my father’s work.”

Guilt all gone. I shake my head, incredulous. “I thought you were asleep. I heard you snoring.”

He gives me a look. “C’mon, Mags. Oldest trick in the book. If you didn’t want me to look in the bag, you shouldn’t have left it next to the sofa.”

“You were a guest in my house. A normal guest would respect my privacy. Not listen at the door and go through my things.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. I just wanted to know.”

“And that gives you the right? Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?”

“My mother’s dead.” He sounds matter-of-fact enough, but he turns away from me to look out the window. “Didn’t make it past the Big Water.”

I sigh, the anger draining out of me, leaving me feeling like an asshole. “Sorry.”

He shrugs and clears his throat, like he’s choking on something hard. But his voice is light. “She’s not the only one. Last time I checked, a couple billion people worldwide didn’t make it past the Big Water. And then another hundred million or so perished in the aftermath. It’s been a pretty shitty time for everyone, if you know what I mean.”

I nod. What else am I supposed to do? I’ve never been good with other people’s emotions.

“She was back east for a conference,” he says. “Washington, DC. She was an expert in traditional weaving. Knew everything about it. She was consulting for an exhibit at the Smithsonian when the storms started. The planes were grounded and within hours the highways along the coast were impassable. You remember how it was. Phone lines overwhelmed and crashing. The blackouts.” His quiet laugh is bitter. “You know, I always say she was killed in the Big Water, but that’s just a guess. We have no idea what happened to her. We just know she’s never come back.”

“We?”

“My dad. He was a professor at the university too. But I told you that. He never really recovered from losing my mom. By the time they shut the university down for good, he’d already stopped going to work months before. When the Urioste goons started rounding up people to dig freshwater wells and water catchments up in the mountains as part of their waterworks, he was one of the first to volunteer. That’s the last I saw of him. I guess he figured I was old enough to be on my own by then. I fell in with some other kids who were on their own too. For a while it was teenage heaven, you know? We lived in abandoned houses, scavenged for the stuff we needed. There was always plenty of day labor for one Familia or another. So we worked when we had to and partied the rest of the time. Sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll.” He gives me his now-familiar grin, but it doesn’t quite get to his eyes.

“The champagne parties you were telling me about.”

“Yeah.”

“So what happened?”

“It all went to hell, just like it always does eventually.” He rubs a hand through his hair. “It’s a stupid story. Cliché, even. I did something reckless, people I cared about got hurt, and now the Uriostes want me dead.”

“The Uriostes. That’s that family back in the Burque?”

“Familia,” he says. “And yeah.”

His revelations sit in the air between us. I know he’s trying to make up for last night, share something about himself that’s close to the bone to rebuild some trust, and I appreciate that. But I don’t intend to return the gesture. What I can do, though, is apologize for this morning.

“About this morning, Kai. With the knife.”

“It’s okay. I get it. Shouldn’t have touched you like that. Won’t happen again.”

“No, it’s . . .”

He leans his head to the side and gives me a look. “It’s fine. I’m fine. And I can tell that you’re terrible at apologies. So let it go, okay?”

I swallow, surprisingly relieved. “Okay.”

“So what’s your Big Water story?” he asks.

“You already know it.”

“You mean the thing with your mentor, Neizghání? Coyote sure seemed interested in him.”

“Obsessed,” I acknowledge.

“But what about before him? What did you do before?”

“Nothing before him really matters.”

He frowns. “I don’t believe that. Didn’t you have a family? Siblings?”

My voice is as steady as it’s ever been. “I grew up with my nalí. Until she died. Then I was with Neizghání.”

“Then what?”

“Then he left. End of story.”

“Yeah. I know that feeling.”

I’m ready to tell him he has no idea how I feel, but then I remember what he said about his father. I keep my mouth shut.

“Everybody’s got a sob story these days, huh? Depressing as shit, if you ask me. Let’s talk about something happy.” He gives me a roguish wink and I smile despite myself.

“What did you have in mind? Unicorns? Rainbows? World peace?”

“What’s that?”

“You’ve never heard of world peace?”

“No, I mean, what’s that in front of us?”

Kai and I watch as half a dozen figures melt out of the early morning mist fifty yards ahead of us. Not monsters, that much I can tell. Or at least not the kind we’re hunting. These monsters look to be humans.

“Company,” I warn Kai, and he sits up a little straighter to get a better look.

“Bandits?” he asks.

“We’re about to find out.”

I consider speeding up and ramming my way through. Instead, I lift my foot off the accelerator. Crank the handle to roll down my window. I can hear the shrill revving of a motorbike somewhere just out of sight. More than one. No doubt just waiting to see if I’ll run. I’m not stupid. Running now would only give them a reason to chase.

The men who surround the truck wear combat boots and blue army fatigues. A familiar bandanna covers their faces from under the eyes down, black with the outline of the bottom half of a human skull, a white outline of a jawbone and rows of picket-fence teeth that stand out stark in the morning light.

“Not bandits,” I tell Kai. “But we’re not completely out of the woods yet.”

“You know them?”

“Sort of. I know their leader.”

“They’ve got big guns.”

“AK-47s,” I acknowledge. “But they don’t want to shoot us, or they’d be pointing them at us. Just let me do the talking.”

“Sure,” he says, but he sounds unconvinced.

“These are Dibáá’ Ashiiké,” I explain.

“ ‘Thirsty Boys’? What are they thirsty for?” He blinks slowly, like he’s bracing himself. “Please don’t say blood.”

“Depends. Trade, mostly. Gold, water, bootleg booze. They’re mercenaries, so they’re mostly thirsty for whatever you’ll pay them. I did a job with them once. Collecting a bounty. Their leader, Hastiin, knows me. We’re sort of friends.” And then as if to prove me wrong, the soldier closest to me raises his weapon and points it directly at me.

Kai sighs audibly. Slips his sunglasses on. “You sure about that?”