Audrey gestures to the end of the hall with her free hand. “She strung their bodies up there.” We both turn. There are two ropes hanging from the ceiling. “I couldn’t move for days.” She gestures at her mangled leg. “So they were left to rot. I only took them down with some help a few weeks ago. I threw their bodies down into the fires. They would have liked that.”
Jude seems to be processing for a moment, then finally says, “Who?”
“The mutant bitch from the east.”
It’s my turn to stand still. My own brothers and sisters have always been a pain in the ass to cross paths with. We’re all as territorial as the old gods we got parts of our DNA from. The few encounters I had over the years ended in bloodshed. The last one plunged two swords into my chest.
“She came alone,” Audrey continues, “and she wanted what we had. An army. Mom and Dad refused. You know how they were.”
“I know,” says Jude. There is a shadow on his face now.
“She killed them and strung them up for all to see. I tried to fight to the bitter end, and she threw me over the hall like a rag doll. She killed Jo. But you know the others. They respect strength. So, as soon as Mom and Dad were dead, they rallied to the bitch. They’re her commanders now. I’m the only one who stayed.”
“Why?” asks Jude.
“My leg…” she explains. “And this is my home. This was our family’s empire.”
“You were always Mom and Dad’s most faithful dog,” Jude says.
“And you were always an ungrateful little weasel,” she retorts. “But I suppose it served you, in the end. You weren’t here to see us fall.”
Jude stays quiet for a moment, then asks, “Where did they go? The others?”
“North. To the Hoover Dam. That’s where she built her base.”
“And Marika?”
“Your little friend had to follow. Louis and Arnold took her.”
Jude swears. Then he says, “Do you have food?”
Audrey limps to a bench and sits. “We’re a few dozen, scattered in Hell. The ones that survived the fight were too wounded to follow. Or didn’t want to. We make do.”
“You should leave this place. Build a new life while you still can.”
Audrey laughs bitterly. “What for? This is my life. I’m not like you, lil’ bro. I don’t run away as soon as it gets difficult. I’ll rebuild our parents’ empire, one brick at a time, if needed. Now fuck off; you’re not welcome here anymore.”
“Very well,” Jude says. “You can stay and burn in Hell for all I care.” And he walks away.
For a moment, I forget that he’s not holding me at gunpoint, and yet I still follow him back to theFirefly. The stairs are still hard for me to climb. My muscles are sore, and my wounds have barely started to heal. Even though I heal much faster than normal humans. The chain around my feet drags on the floor.
Jude sits on the edge of the roof and watches Hell for a while. His entire body is outlined by the eternal fires burning below. His shoulders droop. I could push him. One movement would be all it takes to send him over. He would die instantly on impact. But what would be the fun in that?
I sit a few feet away from him.
“I thought you hated them,” I say.
Jude sighs. “I did. They were fucking monsters. But I was still their son, and they loved me in their twisted way. One day, they would beat me senseless; the next, they would go to war to get me back from a pedophile who kidnapped me on the road. I don’t think anyone would ever love me as much as they did. And yet, some part of me is still glad they died. They were some of the worst people you’d find in the wastelands.”
“Then stop crying,” I say.
Jude turns toward me, his cheeks wet with tears. But his face is impassive as he points the gun at me. How wrong of me to think he wasn’t holding me at gunpoint, even on our way up. He always has it close to hand.
“I’m not crying,” he says quietly. “It’s raining.”
I laugh. It rains less than once a year in the wastelands.
“Did it hurt when you killed your father?” he asks me.
