Read Online Blood Red Road by Moira Young - Free Book Online

over. It wants me. Sand flies in my eyes, stings ’em. My cloak whips around my legs an snaps in the wind.
    Nero! I yell. Nero! Where are you! The words git torn from my lips.
    Nero swoops an dives, cawin frantically. I scream over the roar of the wind. Git outta here! I flap my hands at him. Go on! I’ll be okay!
    He disappears.
    The world howls its rage around me. It’s too big. I’m too small. The sand unner my feet starts to slide, starts to shift—like it don’t want me on it no more.
    Panic claws at my throat. My eyes is gritty. The sand’s blindin me. It’ll make me blind. Do somethin. Quick. I pull my sheema down over my eyes. Now I cain’t see a thing.
    What should I do? What do I do?
    Feel the way. Go down. An git buried alive? Keep goin then, keep goin! An git swept away?
    What should I do? What do I do?
    The sand dune collapses unner me. An that’s it. No choice.
    I’m swept away.

    Dark.
    Hot.
    Cain’t breathe. Oh gawd, I cain’t breathe.
    Weight. On my chest.
    I’m movin. Slidin. Cain’t stop. Cain’t stop.
    Cain’t-breathe-must-breathe-must-breathe-cain’t-breathe-cain’t—
    I’m out. I’m thrown outta the sand.
    I fly through the air face first an thump down, land hard on the ground. I gasp. I breathe. I cough. I roll to my side an yank my sheema down. I cough an cough an take in great, deep gulps of air. I breathe it in, drink it in, I cain’t git enough.
    Then I grab my waterskin, rinse my mouth, spit out the sand.
    After a bit, I start to calm down. I lie there, starin up at the pink dusky sky. I cain’t believe I’m alive.
    Then I realize. I’m lookin at the sky. I can see the sky. The first faint twinkle of stars. I ain’t breathin in sand no more. The wind’s gone. It must of left as quick as it came.
    Slowly I stand, pull myself to my feet. I brush myself down, make sure I still got all my gear. Then I look.
    I’m on a wide flat plain. The sand dunes is gone. Not a trace of ’em left. Like they was never there. Like I dreamed ’em.
    An standin all around me is flyin machines.

    Flyin machines. Flyers.
    Hidden away. Sleepin unner the wanderin dunes of Sandsea fer who knows how long. Could of bin fer any amount of time—a day, a week, a year. Maybe even hunnerds of years. Maybe ever since they was left here by the Wreckers.
    They’re all laid out in neat rows on the sand. Like somebody planted ’em, thinkin they might grow.
    They stretch out, on an on across the plain. So many rows, so many flyin machines that I couldn’t even begin to count.
    I walk in between ’em.
    They’re all sizes. Big, small an everythin in between. They stand quiet, patient, like they’re waitin fer somethin.
    They’re all rusted, with their glass windows smashed an their tires slashed an their bodies cut up to be took away by salvagers. The holes in their sides gape open like wounds.
    A flyin machine graveyard.
    I know about flyers. I even seen parts of ’em before.
    Once Pa brought home a curved metal sheet he picked outta the landfill that he said was most likely part of a flyer. He used it to mend our roof. But the funny thing was, not two days later a big hotwind blasted through Silverlake an that sheet jest lifted up an flew away. Like it couldn’t wait to git outta there. The rest of the roof stayed put, jest that one bit went. Pa said that proved fer sure it was from a flyer.
    I stand in front of one of the biggest ones. I stretch myself to my full height an go up on my toes, but I still cain’t reach it.
    Nero appears in the darkenin sky above me. He lands on my head, flappin his wings.
    Hey Nero. I bring him down to sit on my hand. I rub his head as I walk among the sleepin metal giants. D’you think Lugh came this way? D’you think he seen these? He’d like to see a entire one close to, that’s fer sure.
    I come to a small one, more human-sized. I touch the metal with its faded paint. It feels cool. Buried in sand with no sun to warm its skin.
    I put my hand on the door. If