![]() I think that’s all,” he says, a little too quickly. I catch Follows-Chalk staring at me, and I awkwardly cough. I return to myself after a few seconds, the bad feeling from the little skeletons washed away. I stare into the graying sky, the drops of water splashing off my glasses, my open smiling mouth catching some raindrops as well. I guess this valley is one of those places. Most people in the Mojave never get to see the stuff, unless you live in the right place. Water falls from the sky, drop by drop, drenching everything around us.įor what feels like the first time in years, I laugh. “What is it?” I ask him, putting the small skeletons out of my head. I get out, only to see Follows-Chalk watching the sky intently. It’s damaged, but it’s nothing a little duct tape and care can’t fix. There it is, just out of reach of one of the larger skeletons in the back of the bus. I try not to look at them, pushing them aside as gently as I can while I try to find the compass my companion mentioned. The bones of the passengers grin up into the Zion sky, proud of some macabre joke I didn't get.įollows-Chalk is right. It fell off a road into a deep ditch, and split in half. The ‘place where the little ones fell’ is the crash site of a pre-war vehicle, a big one, probably designed to carry upwards of thirty people a time along the roads. ![]() Something to help us find our way through the Canyon.” “Joshua says he thinks there is a compass there. “The place where the little ones fell,” he says, subdued. This could prove useful in the Wasteland.Īfter the third station raided of electronics, I ask Follows-Chalk where we’re off to next. It takes me a bit, but I get the hang of it. He moves quickly, but not threateningly so. He walks a little hunched, perhaps as a gesture of respect. I watch how Follows-Chalk keeps his eyes roving, never making long contact with any place. Just follow me exactly.”Īfter I do that for a bit, I realize that this is probably how hunters are taught - by example. “Dead Horses know how to walk without angering the wilds, Jane. “So how come they haven’t attacked yet?” I murmur back. “Animals out here, hunting,” he says to me in a low voice. Still, his eyes are sharper than mine could ever hope to be, and there’s several times in the day where he motions me to shut up and stay low because of something moving in the brush I don’t notice. Follows-Chalk barely knows what a lock is, and I don’t feel like explaining complex mechanics to him. He watches the surrounding area while I scavenge and pick locks. My new hat used to belong to one of them, and served as a part of their uniform, it seems.įollows-Chalk and I fall into an easy system. We visit mostly old stations that seemed to house a group of survivalists named the ‘Park Rangers’. I shake the sleep my body and get up, following the tribal out into the Valley once more. The Dead Horses keep the fires in here burning all the time, it seems. I lay there for a few moments, staring at the cave ceiling. ![]() “Come, Jane! We go searching in the taboo places now!”
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