Читать книгу The Puzzler’s War - Eyal Kless - Страница 11

It was a much longer trek to the farm than anticipated, even considering our condition. The land was hilly and hard. Only bushes and an occasional low, twisted tree grew. Coming down the hills barefoot left the soles of my feet bleeding from countless cuts. As before, the pains were a little distant, and I stifled the unmanly yelps and cries I made after several amused glances from Galinak, who bore his pain in stoic silence. At some point, he found a hefty chunk of wood which in dire circumstances could perhaps be used as a club.

“You won’t knock out a hungry bear with that,” I half joked, filling the silence.

“No offence, my sharp-eyed friend,” he said, waving the chunk of wood at me, “but if we meet a bear I am planning to knock you out with this and run for it.”

That shut me up for a while. Normally I would have dismissed that kind of talk as Galinak’s rough sense of humour, but he was in a foul mood. I filled him in on the details of our mission as I knew it, and that caused two major tantrums and several more outbursts.

“No wonder everyone hated those rust fuckers,” he exclaimed, his unfamiliar face turning red. “They are playing us again.”

“They kept their word, and kept us alive.” I knew it was a mistake to try this argument as soon as I said the words.

“Did they short-circuit your wires, Twinkle Eyes? Tarakan only brought us back because they need us to do their dirty work.” Galinak waved his finger at me. “I ain’t gonna play their game again. You might have struck a deal with them rusters, but no one asked me to chase no little girl.”

“She’s not a little girl anymore, she’s probably seventeen by now.” If I thought that such a fact would cool Galinak’s temper, I was mistaken.

“I don’t care how old she is,” he bellowed at me. “I ain’t doing this again. They can kiss my naked, hairless arse, if they ever find me.” He began walking faster, leaving me behind.

I stiffened a yelp as I stepped on a sharp stone. “Wait, Galinak.” To my surprise, he actually stopped and turned, and I hopped closer.

“Remember what Rafik said. We’ll die in less then three years, and not in a nice, quick way.”

He looked at me. “Sometimes living a short, free life is better than a lifetime of bowing your head to a master.”

I could sense there was no point in trying to convince him of anything at that point. “Look,” I said, tuning my voice to sound calm and reasonable, “let’s find something to wear, food and water, and perhaps a weapon that is better than a branch. Then we’ll talk about it.”

“Fine.” Galinak nodded. “But there ain’t nothing to talk about. I’m done with those rusters.”

We continued to walk at a slower, careful pace. Galinak brooded in silence while I took my mind off a possible encounter with a bear by playing with my sight. It was similar to the power I had in my old body, but tenfold. It was as if I’d attached a Tarakan artifact to my eyes. I could see ants crawling on the ground or a bird of prey far up in the sky as if it were up close, but despite looking all around us every chance I got, the seemingly abandoned farm remained the only man-made structure I could detect. It was no surprise, really. The Catastrophe had left behind only remnants of the human race and a lot of empty land. Many survivors instinctively congregated in hamlets, villages, or towns, but there were others who moved away, or simply stayed where they survived, choosing to brave the elements on their own.

We reached the farm as the sun disappeared behind the mountains. Despite its abandoned look, we didn’t take any chances. I stayed low outside the premises and Galinak snuck in solo. After a while he came out and waved me over. It was indeed abandoned, from the look of the unkempt vegetable garden. We were in no condition to be picky, and we found several vegetables to nourish us. Eating for the first time in our new bodies was an odd experience. Like before, the feeling was duller than the awareness of the effect. I could tell that my body was being recharged by eating the rotting tomato, but thankfully, the taste was distant enough for me not to gag.

The barn had been emptied out long ago, but Galinak did find a butchering cleaver, which must have fallen when the owners were packing. It was a lucky find, since metal was priceless in these rural parts. It had some spots of rust, but the edge was true. Galinak kept it for himself and gave me the wooden club with a sly smile and a meaningful wink. I chose not to protest.

The living structure was only one story high but spacious enough to contain an extended family, perhaps even several generations, and it was almost completely cleared out. We found a few pieces of wooden cutlery near the cold hearth, too used and chipped to be worth taking. There was no food anywhere, and the wild ferret we discovered in one of the rooms wisely escaped via a hole in the wall before Galinak could make dinner out of him.

“Galinak, I found something,” I cried out. Despite the lack of alarm in my voice he arrived, quickly brandishing the cleaver. I nodded toward the closet.

“The door is stuck.”

He shrugged, lay the cleaver gently on his foot, placed one hand on the handle, and braced the other against the twin door. He looked at me.

“Why the gloomy face?”

“Because I can see what’s inside.”

He considered my words for a few heartbeats before pulling hard enough on the handle to yank it out of the door.

“Rust,” he swore, and without preparation he simply punched through the wood, pulling back to break it into several pieces. Once the dust had settled, we peered inside. There were only two items of clothing hanging from the rack by a wooden hook: a farmer’s blue overalls and a farmer’s wife’s dress.

Galinak looked at me again.

“Oh,” he said. “Now I get it.”