Marco screamed for her to help. He shook his head back and forth, but Vic could barely see. She had a brief panic at the thought of not being able to stop laughingever. It was more difficult to breathe right then than it had ever been in the deepest of sand.
Goddamnit, Marco shouted through the underwear. Help me!
Vic managed to sit up straight. She wiped her eyes and looked down at her fingers. Holy shit, she told Marco, laughing and disbelieving. You fucking made me cry.
20 A Scroungers Trade
It totally isnt as funny as youre making out, Marco said. He loaded her dive gear into his haul rack. Maybe if the bag was full of clean clothes. Maybe then.
Oh, shit. Vic grabbed his arm. She hadnt smelled the clothes to see if they had been worn or not. The seals in those Samsonites were really that good.
Yeah, Marco said. Shit is right.
After half a minute, Marco had to help Vic up from the sand. Dabbing her eyes and seeing the tears there, she told Marco, This is the happiest day of my life.
Yeah, you suck. Lesson learned
and all that. And Jesus, can you please take it easy on who you tell?
Vic smiled at him.
Ah, fuck, Vic, Im gonna hear about this for weeks.
Oh, hell no. This is going to last a lot longer than that. And if these clothes fetch a coin less for all the sand you got in them, thats coin you owe.
Marco looked like a kicked dog. Vic almost felt sorry for him. Almost. She loaded the black bag into the haul rack, and Marco did the same with the silver. Behind them, twin sets of ruts streaked their way across the dunes. Already, the lines in the distance were fading, filled in by the wind. Vic marveled, not for the first time, on all the wheeled conveyances shed seen buried beneath the deep sand. To think there was some distant past or place where wheels made any sense
Ho, Marco!
Vic turned. She saw where Marco was looking, hand shielding his eyes in the low morning sun. A figure stood atop a nearby dune, a silhouette with a tall lance in one hand, the other arm raised in salute. The mast of a sarfer could be seen jutting up beyond the dune, the sail tightly furled.
While you were screwing around, someone spotted your sarfer, Vic said.
Shit.
Wait, is that Damien? Oh, hes gonna love this.
Please, please, please, Marco begged. At least wait until we get to town. Or tonight when everyones drunk and no one will remember. Dont let him be the first to know. Not Damien.
Vic squeezed Marcos neck and laughed. Some freedom fighter you are.
Marco tensed. Thats just it. Im a fighter . He made a fist, and his great and tan bicep bulged, scars and tattoos straining.
Vic stopped smiling. I was stressing the freedom part. You forget that, and all you are is fighting. Ill tell who I want, when I want. Freedom, Marco. Dont get like these assholes and fall in love with the fighting. Then youre just setting off bombs because you like the noise they make.
Marco didnt say anything as Damien glissaded down the dune toward them, causing a gentle avalanche and using his spear for balance. He stomped over with a grin, and his eyebrows lifted when he spotted the two bags in the haul rack. Jesus. Nice find, guys. His eyes went to the trails left in the sand, quickly filling. How the hell do you two score every time you go out? And way out in the middle of nowhere?
Vic didnt say that it was usually her scoring while Marco watched their things on the surface. Just lucky, I guess.
Clothes?
Mostly underwear, she said. And before Marco could respond, she added: For the ladies . She fought off a bout of giggles.
Hey, my wife could use some. Maybe hook me up before you sell to Jimbo or Sandy and they get their squeeze. Ill pay what they pay.
Slow down, Marco said. Dont be in a rush to get our panties off us. He laughed.
Maybe theyre for him , Vic said, teasing Damien.
Yeah, fuck you two. And here I was getting ready to do you a favor. But I guess you can wait until you get to town to find out the news yourselves. To think I was gonna ask you to tag along He turned and marched back toward his sarfer.
Wait. Tell us what? Marco asked.
Damien held up his middle finger and kept walking.
Tell us fucking what? Marco demanded.
Ill trade you, Vic called.
Damien slowed. He turned and glanced at the bags. Trade for what?
Give me the news, and Ill tell you the funniest story youve ever heard in your entire fucking life.
Damien waved his hand and spit sand. News like this dont go for a joke.
Dont you fucking dare, Marco hissed, but this only seemed to get Damiens attention.
Its not a joke, Vic said. Its a true story. And I promise you wont be disappointed. Youll be getting the good end of this bargain, I swear.
I dunno Damien said, walking back their way. There aint never been news this big. But fuckit, Id rather you hear it from me than from someone else.
You first, Vic said. In truth, she didnt care about his news. She was just rehearsing how best to tell this story, a story that would get many retellings.
Damien took a deep breath and searched their faces. The two sand divers waited. The clatter of Low-Pub spilled over the dunes, and sand rode through the sky above their heads.