“He’s not a man to be trifled with, Perri,” I said. “He’s our king, not a traveling bard to have some fun with.”
“I know. Our arrangement is purely physical.”
“I doubt that.”
Perri always gets attached. Then his heart gets broken when they eventually walk away or disappoint him, and I’m left to put the pieces of him back together.
“You know, I think he would like to have you join us,” Perri said. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when we’re together. He wants you.”
I had noticed it too. But to me, it looked more like envy than anything else. What Perri and I share is unique. It must be lonely to be king.
I shook my head. “This is going to end badly.”
“Or not,” Perri said, sliding between my arms. He buried his face in my chest; he’s so much smaller than me. When he looked up, his hazel eyes were full of mischief. “Come to the bath with me? I’m well spent, but I can suck you off to take the grumpiness out of you.”
I laughed and followed him to the bathroom.
“Let’s meet outside in an hour. Get the things you need,” says the King, bringing me back to the present. He comes down from the dais, leaving his throne behind. When he reaches me, his voice is strangely soft as he says, “We’ll get him back.”
He leaves through the back door and I take off running and head for our apartment.
We won our place in the Market years ago, when our skills as a hacker and mechanic turned out to be invaluable. For me, it meant finding a place where I could keep Perri safe from the harsh world we live in. And yet, the little fucker has gone out into the wastelands alone, set on getting himself killed.
Not on my watch.
As I reach the house, I immediately aim for our weapon cache. I need everything that I can carry. I’m sure the King and his men will manage the food and water supplies.
Once I’m equipped, I grab a few extra clothes for Perri and me. I don’t know what he took with him; he always sucks at packing. Most of the time, he can’t find a matching pair of socks in our home.
And yet, he’s out there alone right now… My chest expands with difficulty as I choke on fresh panic. I should have listened to him when he asked to go rescue the AI. I should have realized how important it was to him.
My hands shake as I grab all the things we might need, including, of all things, a spare toothbrush. It somehow reassures me to imagine that the biggest of our problems in the wastelands will be dental hygiene.
Please, let it be it.
Our radio is missing. It’s the one Perri always uses to communicate with Jude and my mothers. At least I know that he’ll keep one ear on the merchants’ channels. They relay important news, like the movement of the old gods every hour. He’ll know which coordinates to avoid.
I rush out of the house with two heavy bags over my shoulders. I throw them inside my rover; Perri took our truck. But before I have time to start the engine, one of the King’s men appears in the hangar.
“Stellan! The King awaits you,” says the old man, out of breath. “You’re leaving in his vehicle.”
He grabs one of my bags and leads the way outside, down the ramp and into the desert surrounding the Traveling Market. We’re somewhere west of Nevada, near Walker Lake—now almost dried out.
The King’s ride is hard to miss. It’s a large pickup truck with a camper built on top of the truck bed, like the old world expedition overland vehicles. The wheels are twice the size of normal ones. It’s a rusty mess of metal sheets nailed together. It doesn’t look like much, especially for a king’s ride, but I worked on it enough times to know that it’s one of the best vehicles in the wastelands. Alastair spent years turning it into a monster of a truck, with hidden features and weapons. The metal sheets and windows are bulletproof.
There is another truck beside it with two of the king’s men inside. Janice and Leonard. They’re pulling a trailer that I’m guessing is full of fuel and other supplies we might need forthe journey. San Francisco is a day or two of travel through the wastelands. More, if we encounter trouble.
“You’re riding with Alastair,” Janice tells me as I walk closer.
She’s a woman in her fifties with a cigarette hanging from her lips. Leonard is a wisp of a man but is renowned to be an excellent shot. They’re some of the King’s best mercenaries.
I run to Alastair’s truck and use the step to jump inside. I’m not one to argue. The faster we leave, the sooner we can get to Perri.
Alastair watches me as I drop my heavy bags at my feet. As soon as I close the door, he puts his foot down on the pedal and we’re off.
I spare one last glance at the Traveling Market behind us, wondering if I’ll ever see it again. It’ll move tonight. Going west to find a place where there is more water.
Alastair turns on the radio and finds the merchants’ main channel. A warning echoes in the truck. “Hartross is on the move. She’s going north, at coordinates…” followed by a string of numbers.
