Beyond his home and the scattering of roofs and half-buried shops sat Springston with its rows of sandscrapers jutting up into the wind. Conner could just barely make out the outline of the great wall beyond the scrapers. The wall disappeared as he and Gloralai made their way off the ridge and behind the dunes. Soon it was just the tops of the tallest structures, those misshapen and disjointed stacks of cubeslittle hovels and homes and shops built one atop the other with no plan and no coordination. Wisps of sand streamed from their roofs and the wind howled through their eaves. And then the last of the city vanished, and only the location of the dump could be determined, flocks of crows hanging majestically in the air, blacks wings unbeating, riding that rolling zephyr that marched in from No Mans Land and carried with it the thunder of the gods and the sand that was the bane of all their existences.
Conner listened beyond the wind and the crunch of sand beneath his boots and could just make out the distant and beating drums. These were the thundering booms that built and built in mens chests. These were the echoes of rebel bombs that brought back the horrors of loved ones blown to bits. It was the sound that would not stop, the noise that pervaded mens dreams and haunted their waking hours, the torture that drove them mad and madder until they could take no more of it. Until they fled to the mountains and were never heard from again. Or until they staggered into No Mans Land to find the source of this abuse, to beg it to stop. This was why men packed up their families and left for another life elsewhere. Or abandoned them in a shoddy tent.
You ever dream of getting out of here? Conner asked.
Gloralai nodded. All the time. She shook the ker around her neck, dumping out the grit. Ive got a brother in Low-Pub who says he can get me a job in a bar down there. Hes a bouncer. But I gotta wait until Im eighteen.
Which bar? Conner knew what sorts of jobs had age requirements. He tried to imagine Gloralai doing what his mother did, and a rage built up inside him.
Lucky Lukes. Its a dive bar.
Oh, yeah. Conner ran his fingers through his hair, shaking out the matte.
You know it?
I know of it. My sister used to work there. Bartending. You didnt have to be eighteen to bartend back then.
You dont have to be eighteen to bartend now . Gloralai led him to the right of a dune and onto a path. A group of kids sledded past on sheets of tin, screaming and laughing. You gotta be eighteen to work in the brothel upstairs, she said.
Conner choked on sand. He fumbled for his canteen, even though he knew it held the barest of splashes.
Im only kidding, she said, laughing. My dad just says until Im grown I have to live with them and obey their rules. Typical parental bullshit.
Yeah, typical, Conner said. But what he thought was how great it would be to have someone else setting the rules. All he and his little brother had were each other. Palmer and Vic had gone off to make their fortunes diving, leaving the two of them to fend for themselves. When their father disappeared, he had left the entire family destitute when once theyd had everything. And their momConner didnt know where to start with her. He sometimes wished he didnt have a mom.
He pushed this out of mind. Just as he pushed tomorrow's camping trip back to some dark corner. He concentrated on Gloralai there at his sidetried to live in the moment while he could. Together, they angled toward a half-buried strip of shacks jutting out of a low dune. A generator rattled and smoked on the roof of one. Inside, there was a glow of light, and hanging from the sand-dusted roof was a neon Coors sign with the jagged shape of the westward peaks lit above. Conner nearly pointed out that his sister had salvaged that sign, as he often did when he saw something shed found and had rescued from the sand.
Hey, Gloralai asked,
are you going to Ryders bash on Saturday?
Uh no.
She mustve caught his accompanying wince. Look, he can be a dick, but its gonna be a good time. Laugh Riot is playing. You should come. Gloralai held up two fingers to the man in the window and placed a couple of coins on the sill. Conner spotted the small homemade tattoo on her wrist and wondered if she had others.
Its not because of him, he said. I could give two shits about Ryder. Me and my brothers are going camping this weekend.
You and Palm are taking Rob camping? Thats sweet. She handed him one of the foaming jars of beer. Conner took a sip. Cold from the deep sand. He wiped his lips.
Yeah, its not really sweet to be honest. Its something we do once a year. He didnt say that he was dreading it, that he was nervous, that he was packing for a much longer hike. This was too good a moment to spoil.
So how is Palmer? He moved down to Low-Pub, right?
Hes good, I guess. He spends his time back and forth. He stopped by last weekend on his way to some salvage job. Probably back at my place right now. Unless hes flaking out on us again. Conner took another sip of his beer. Hes the one whos supposed to be looking after Rob, not me.