I keep the burning questions in check as Jude pulls out his gun. We fly straight to the ground, and the RV swerves to avoid crashing into theFirefly. But a vehicle that size isn’t easily stopped, and it tips to the side. The windows explode with the impact. The trailer is dragged to the ground behind it, leaving a deep trench in the dust.
Jude is immediately out of the aircraft, gun raised. I follow.
A man is trying to pull himself out of the driver’s window. Jude pulls the trigger, and he dies instantly. More people scream from inside the RV, but he ignores them as he walks to the trailer. It’s upside-down now. An old man with a beard is hanging from the bars. He’s covered in dust and grime.
“Gandalf, you old geezer,” Jude says. “Are you okay?”
“Jude! You couldn’t have thought of a better way to rescue me than almost killing me in a car crash?” retorts the old man.
“Sorry. I didn’t know it was you in here.”
One bullet is all it takes to break the lock keeping the prisoner inside, and the old man climbs out with Jude’s help.
Banging noises and gunshots erupt from the RV. The survivors inside are trying to get out. I walk to the vehicle and put a hand over the frame. I send a strong electric charge through the entire RV. Anyone touching metal will be stunned for a few hours. From the silence that follows, it’s safe to say that it worked.
Jude offers me a slight nod.
“How did you end up in that cage?” he asks the old man. Then to me, he says, “Gandalf is an old friend. One of the first traveling merchants of the new world.”
“I’ve been careless,” answers Gandalf. “They caught me three days ago in Utah. I’m getting too old.”
“Why?”
“Why am I getting too old?”
Jude chuckles. “No. I think I’ve got that figured out. Why did they capture you? Why not just kill you and take your things?”
Gandalf smooths his long beard and shrugs. “They found me near the river in Utah. They couldn’t find my hovercar, so they took me instead. For questioning, they said. They were taking me to their new leader. I’ve heard that your parents are dead. I wish I could say that I’m sorry, boy. But you know I’m not.”
Jude sighs. “Yeah. Don’t waste your breath.”
“Although that new leader seems to be worse than your family,” Gandalf continues, limping away from the wreckage. “TheHighwaymenhave been hunting us more than ever before. And they’ve now launched a few attacks on the Traveling Market. The King is on edge.”
“I bet he is,” says Jude. “Let’s go. We can get you back to your hovercar in no time.”
He helps the old merchant walk to theFirefly.
“I always liked you, boy. You were always my favorite of your whole family,” jokes Gandalf, patting Jude’s back.
“I clearly don’t understand why,” says Jude with a smile. “My brothers and sisters are a delight.”
Gandalf cackles. “Where did you get this aircraft?” he asks as we help him inside. “What a beauty!”
Jude points at me. “I stole it from him.”
The old merchant finally seems to notice me. He straightens his round glasses—one of the lenses is missing—and stares at me for a long time.
“I haven’t seen you for years, Oliver,” he eventually says. “You’ve grown big. Well, most of you mutants grow like weeds.”
I gape. “Have we met?”
Gandalf sighs as he relaxes on a chair at the back of theFirefly. “Yes. When you were younger. How’s your father?”
“Dead,” I say.
Gandalf nods. “Good. He was a good customer, but I can’t say that I liked the man.” He closes his eyes. Exhaustion is etched on every corner of his wrinkled face.
Jude shares a look with me before rummaging through the aircraft to find a bottle of water for the old merchant.
