No, I dont. Did he say anything about the job he was taking?
Her mom shrugged. He said he would stop back by on his way down to pay me back. Thats all. He was supposed to go camping with your brothers last night, but Conner came by yesterday looking for him, so theres another broken promise.
Did Conner say why he was looking for him?
Her moms eyes narrowed into slits. Because he was supposed to go camping. Why? Is Palmer in
trouble?
No. I think hes in the opposite of trouble. All the commotion around here this morning, its because someone found Danvar.
Her mom exhaled noisily. Someones always finding Danvar. And it always turns out to be some no-name town full of half-rotten debris that was already known about. More people will go broke than make anything, you watch. Good for our business for a few days, and then a ghost town after that.
I think this time is different, Vic said.
Its always different. And look, unless you want to come in and talk, Ive gotta get out of the sand. I cant afford to take an extra shower today just because you dont like what I do here.
Okay. Whatever. Good to see you.
Same. She flicked the cigarette into the sand. A crow dove down to take a look and peeled away, screaming at being fooled.
Hey, Vic said, as her mom opened the door. Did he get the visor?
Her mom looked sad for a moment, a frown of wrinkles around her mouth. I gave him the money, yeah.
Who was he buying it from? Graham?
Go ask Graham, her mom said. She stepped back inside, and the wind and sand helped slam the door.
29 A Souls Weight
Danvar is north of here, she said. I think.
You think? Did your mom say that? She know where your brother went?
Not exactly. But Palmer told her he would stop back by on his way down . Plus, I dont think he wouldve come this way just to head south or west. They were passing through Springston from Low-Pub, and he stopped to hit her up for money. We need to run to a dive shop real quick. Ive got one more person to ask. She grabbed Marco by the shirt and pulled him close for a deep kiss. One of the women on the balcony whistled.
What the fuck was that for? Marco asked, smiling.
Vic wiped her lips. Making sure you didnt have any lipstick on you. Youre clean.
Oh, is that right? He followed her as she set off toward the dive school. Im clean, huh?
Yeah, but your breath tastes like panties. That could mean anything, though.
That jokes gonna get real old real fast, Marco said. He ran to catch up. So what dive shop are we going to? Youve got a lead?
Yeah. Family friend. A guy my dad used to scavenge with. Names Graham
Graham Siler?
Yeah, you know him?
I know of him. If it weighs a Graham, he gives a damn. A hoarder, right? I know a guy who came across one of his buried caches once. Said there was a hundred thousand coin worth of artifacts two hundred meters down out in the middle of nowhere.
Bullshit. Those are legend.
No, he was for real. But he wouldnt touch any of it. Said hed heard Graham booby-traps the caches. Im not kidding. This guy still goes out there sometimes, dives down, and just looks at it. Ive tried to get him to take me.
He wont take you because they dont exist. Hes just a junker like my dad was. Hey, did that sand up there just settle? Like it was moving?
Marco peered at the dune she was pointing to. There was still a small cascade of sand sliding down the face. The wind, Marco said.
Felt like someone was watching us. Cmon, theres a back way to his shop through here. We can stay out of the market. It sounds nuts over there.
Yeah Marco lagged behind, was still studying the dune. Vic turned down a narrow path and into a tight alley where shacks jutted out of the high sand and roofs met overhead to form a dark tunnel. Cracks in the tin allowed thin lines of sift to fall in golden veils. Vic ducked her head as she passed through one. She found Grahams by looking for the shack with the billiard ball for a door handle. A perfunctory knock, and she pushed her way inside, bells overhead ringing.
Graham?
There was no one at the counter. A lantern flickered with the breeze swirling through the door. Marco kicked his boots on the doorjamb and joined her inside, closed the door, which upset the bells again but stilled the shadows. Look at those bikes, Marco whispered.
Vic ignored him. She ducked under the handlebars of the suspended bicycles and peered into the back. The workshop was empty. Graham? You still in bed? She had gone up two rungs toward his loft to check his mattress when she saw the body behind his workbench. Grahams stool lay on its side. Marco! she called. She scrambled down from the ladder and hurried around the workbench. An electric light on the bench was still on. She swiveled it toward the floor so she could see better.
You
okay? Marco asked.
Fuck, Vic said. She moved the stool, which lay across the body.
Is that Graham?
No. Never seen this guy before. She reached up and adjusted the light better. Damn. Look at this.
There was something wrong with the mans face. It was stove in, like hed been hit with something, perhaps a bat, but there was almost no damage to the skin, just rivulets of blood streaking from his nose. What the hell?