Read Online Temper by Beck Nicholas - Free Book Online Page A

shouldn’t run off after him in some lame attempt to save him from the dangerous path.
    All that matters is getting to the Company.
    I straighten and meet Davyd’s amused gaze. “You sure you can handle that road?”
    “I’m sure.”
     
     
    ***
     
     
    I make it through the more dangerous stretches of trail by closing my eyes. Despite being aware of how much I’m putting my life in Davyd’s abilities to keep us upright, I comfort myself with the knowledge that I’ve never met anyone more concerned with their own survival. That and some half-whispered prayers to anyone and everything I can think of who might give us a little luck.
    It works.
    We break for food around midday. We eat ration bars only made bearable by some of the lemon tea I had at Lady’s last night. I almost ask Davyd whether he got it from her when saying farewell, but I resist. I know she’s ignored him since Samuai returned, and as much as he annoys me, I can’t forget the way he cared for her when she was grieving.
    We’re sitting in silence when the rain that’s threatened all day falls with a rush like a bowl emptying from the sky. The shower passes as fast as it arrives, and though we’re both half-soaked, the afternoon’s ride is easy going. The track is rough but there are no more death plunges.
    I estimate it’s late afternoon when we stop again.
    When Davyd talked about the remnants of a town, I imagined an old-fashioned roadside diner like the ones in the vids we used to watch on the ship, back when we thought we’d left Earth far behind. Instead, the track leads us to an old farmhouse with a broken fuel pump at the end of a long drive.
    “Town?” I ask.
    He shrugs. “It’s what I was told. This must be it, though.”
    We leave the bike concealed in some trees and make our way closer on foot. There’s an open grassland, once a farming field, and not much to hide behind. But I figure we’d have as good a look at anyone attacking. I relax pretty quickly. The place is deserted.
    What appeared to be an intact building from the hilltop is anything but whole. It looks like it’s been split in the Upheaval by a chasm down the center of the old kitchen. A woodstove hangs over the edge, and I wonder what happened to the farmer who lived here. I find myself teetering at the edge of a drop into blackness. What happened in those terrible days when the world descended into chaos blamed on unseen aliens? Did they survive the quakes and floods? Did anyone fall?
    The single bedroom has a mattress on the floor and a cupboard with a few clothes left hanging on wooden hangers.
    Davyd walks the perimeter of the house area and when he returns, nods as though we’ve come to an agreement. “We’ll stop for the night here.”
    “Here? I thought we’d get closer to the city. The longer it takes, the more likely it is we’ll return to more lives lost, or worse a Company attack that we’ve missed because we’ve come all this way. We could be there and inside before midnight.”
    “We could be.”
    “And?”
    “And we’d be tired and sloppy and likely to get killed before we’re within sight of New City.”
    “Your plan is better?”
    “Yes. Sleep for a few hours here. Get into a good position for reconnaissance. Being rested will allow us to get that much closer without detection. We’ll go in the next day.”
    “But that’s a whole day wasted.”
    “Only if you don’t want to survive.”
    A yawn defeats my argument before I can make it. I don’t know why I’m so tired. It’s not like being on the back of the bike has been hard work. “Fine. But I get the mattress, and you take first watch.”
    He doesn’t argue, and it doesn’t take long to find the hidden fuel and prepare to leave first thing. The weather’s clearing, and tomorrow should be good for travel.
    I drag the stove into the bedroom and light a fire for warmth against the chill in the night air while Davyd prepares a simple stew from a dehydrated ration pack. I