When the River Ran Dry by Robert Davies

Author:Robert Davies
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: science fiction, fantasy, virtual reality, ancient egypt, dystopian, dark fantasy, action & adventure
Publisher: BHC Press
Published: 2018-08-29T16:00:00+00:00

The days passed slowly and each took their turn at the controls. Occasional steam carts passed them by, heading eastward beneath wisps of thin smoke and laden with grain from other settlements, or mineral ore the Diggers pulled from open-pit mines far to the south, yet none chose to stop. At first, Maela seemed grateful for only stares from drivers as they moved slowly past, but after a while, their disinterest seemed odd and mildly insulting. Had others from Novum crossed the Broadlands often enough so that encountering one had become no special event to the elusive Agros, she wondered? By the fifth day, traffic was noticeably sparse, leaving them the sole occupant on the hard-packed road for countless kilometers.

The pace had been mostly steady, interrupted by a few hours in the darkness each night and hidden behind a hill or stand of trees to rest. They passed the time with small talk and the exchange of personal histories, but Ricky’s description of his Walk left Maela silent and reflective. The fascination with Challenge shows, or debtors running headlong to their deaths in a Walk always eluded her and hearing about it from one of the few who survived only reinforced her belief the practice should’ve been outlawed altogether.

She watched him as he recounted that terrible night, listening to his tone change with each memory and brutal demand placed on him by the will to survive. In his words, she heard the voice of regret for the lives he took on that terrible night, but nothing could change what had been. When the sun reached its zenith on the sixth day, they eased through the flatlands where oceans of grass stretched to the horizon in every direction. Modest stands of trees dotted the fields and within them, the occasional collective where small herds were tended as they grazed, often for just the milk and not always doomed to meet their fate on the dinner table of a nameless Upper.

Where the road crested a gentle rise, it turned sharply around a grove of pines, signaling a sudden change from open spaces and back to forested, rolling hills Ricky guessed were the last before the approaches to Veosa. He moved quickly around the crates and containers, wakened loudly from a brief nap when Maela stopped the van suddenly. As he looked up, she pointed toward a group of men on horseback, clearly waiting at the roadside.

“That doesn’t look good,” she said.

Ricky squinted against the sunlight through the windscreen, shielding his eyes with an open palm.

“Were we expected?”

“I can’t see how,” Maela replied. “We can go a lot faster than any of them.”

“The bigger settlements have radios, so somebody at Landsdon must’ve sent a message ahead.”

“What the hell for?” Maela asked loudly. “We didn’t give them any grief!”

“We only met with Felicitas and Bartholomew; others might’ve had a problem with us and made a discrete call.”

She pulled her gun from its holster and made a quick operational check. Ricky knew better than to comment as she eased the van closer.

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