Scorched: A Post Apocalyptic Story Read online

of all out assaults. Rhine also ran other, more secret dealings that allowed their successes to continue.

  It was a good haul. Hector, Rhine’s good friend and the man he trusted most among the bandits, proclaimed they had food for months. He walked over to Rhine, his stocky frame and wide shoulders rotating with each step. He had hair like Rhine’s, short and dark, and had grown up with him, his parents had known Rhine’s parents back when they were young and didn’t have to steal to survive.

  “Check this one out,” Hector said, handing Rhine a wooden crate with its top shattered off. Rhine looked inside.

  It was filled with fabric, the softest fabric Rhine had ever touched. Stacks and stacks, and different colors. Red, purple, blue, white, and yellow. Rhine smile and patted Hector’s shoulder. They would strike a high price in town. Of course, they weren’t allowed to enter Bly, an unspoken rule of “Why the hell would you go there they will kill you if you do!” But that was where Rhine had found a loop hole, a secret detour around the law of Bly. His name was Pency Herbert, and he was one of the richest men in Bly thanks to Rhine and his bandits.

  Pency Herbert bought stolen items from Rhine a few times a month in secret. Pency paid fairly and, in exchange, Rhine always allowed his caravans to pass through the land untouched. They weren’t the only bandits in Canyon Land, but it increased their odds. The pact benefited both men handsomely, and Rhine also traded for items they needed from Pency. Rhine looked around. They’d created the best world for themselves, given their circumstances. The only world, he reminded himself. I had no choice in the matter. But the winds of fate are cruel, and a storm was building on the horizon.

  3

  It all started when Rhine met with Pency two days after the ambush. It was at the usual spot, a few miles from the hideout. Rhine brought Hector and a few others, and a cart full of stolen goods to sell and trade. It was dark, they always met at night, and the sky was perfectly clear. A full moon shined down, glowing the dried up world in a silver layer. Cold, so cold at night in the desert that your breath fogged up and your teeth chattered. Pencey didn’t like having to come in the cold, but Rhine told him they’d meet at night or he could kiss the deal goodbye.

  Pencey arrived at the spot a little later than usual. It was a rocky slope, right up against the sand dunes that they met. Pencey and his men travelled on the sand most the six miles from Bly, the winds blowing behind them, wiping away their tracks.

  The sand dunes are a wasteland in a wasteland World, where nobody ever travels in for more than a half days journey. The heat alone will kill you there, not to mention the sandstorms. And so they met on the edge of Devils Bank, a fine stretched line between the hard rocks of Canyon Land and the sand dunes.

  Everything went normal at first. Rhine and Pency’s men moved goods from one cart to the other while the two leaders went over details. Rhine took the coins, counted them, and nodded. But there was something off about Pency. He wouldn’t look Rhine in the eye and he spoke as little as possible. Odd behavior for the outspoken, chiseled face business man who gleamed off attention and money.

  “You sick or something?” Rhine asked the blond haired, wiry man.

  Pency shook his head. “Fine.”

  When everything was done, Rhine turned to follow his men. They had a few miles journey ahead of them, but at least they would move quicker without all the extra weight. They had a shorter distance to travel than Pency and his men, but they had to travel through boulders, over hills, and up into the canyons.

  “Rhine,” a voice said, calling him from behind.

  He turned around and saw Pency. The man hadn’t moved a muscle. He stood, staring at Rhine, his men walking off without him. Rhine stepped back to him, his eyes squinting in confusion.

  “What the hell did you do, huh?” Pency asks, shaking his head.

  A gust of wind blows swirling sand between them and into their faces. Rhine covers his eyes.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Rhine replies.

  Pency moves towards Rhine. For a moment Rhine prepares himself for an attack, thinking this agreement they have might be nearing the end of its life. But Pency doesn’t attack. He only opens his mouth.

  “That was a powerful man you met today,” he says, his voice harder than the boulders at Rhine’s back. “You shouldn’t have attacked that caravan, you shouldn’t have made him mad.”

  Rhine shrugs. “What have you heard, Pency? Stop blabbing and tell me what you know.”

  Pency looks suddenly very uncomfortable. He shuffles his feet, turns his head from side to side as if their being watched. His voice drops to a whisper. “You need to watch out. He’s coming for you.”

  Rhine turns and walks into the hard blowing sand, catching up to his men. They wander through massive rocks and hills, following a path with no markings, Rhine knowing the route by heart. Rhine turns back occasionally to watch the mysterious lights in the distance. Shooting stars that rise up from the earth, flashes off powerful white light that appear, then disappear in an instant. A mystery protected by the vast sand dunes and never ending miles of salt flats beyond.

  4

  When they were halfway back to the hideout, a loud screaming sound echoed across the canyons. Rhine and his men froze, then continued on. A moment later they passed around a corner and saw something strange up ahead. Looking up, there was something dangling above the ground. It swayed side to side, casting a faint shadow on the ground from the light of the moon.

  Coming closer, they saw that it was a body, hanging with a rope around its neck. Rhine squinted in the dark, unable to tell who it was. The body was too high.

  “Bring him down,” Rhine ordered.

  One of his men climbed up to where the rope was tied down around a small boulder. He made quick work of the knots, held the rope, and brought the body down to the ground. Rhine was under, waiting for it. Just as the body touched the ground, its mouth opened in a gasp of air. Struggling beside him, Rhine saw who it was.

  “Pency,” he said, “what the hell happened? Who did this?”

  Pency’s eyes were massive, he struggled for air. His neck was solid red, his face pale. Rhine saw that his eyes were glazed and full of tears. He reached and undid the rope completely, making it easier for Pency to breathe.

  “I’m sorry Rhine,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

  Rhine brought his head closer to listen, Pency was out of it, he wasn’t making any sense today. With his men at his back, Rhine leaned over the struggling man.

  “I’m sorry,” Pency whispered. His eyes closed. He took in one more breath, and then his head fell limp to the dirt. There was a moment of absolute silence.

  A loud and angry voice yelled from the darkness around them. So loud it shook their bones, the noise echoing through the canyons. “RHINE!”

  Rhine heard another sound, the sound of something flying through the air. One of his men turned rigid and made a brute gurgling noise, Rhine looked over and saw him standing with a spear sticking through his chest, blood dripping down to the ground.

  “Get to cover!” Rhine yelled. He removed his sword and ran behind a nearby rock. Men poured down from all sides, carrying weapons and swinging them at the bandits. Rhine jumped out and stabbed one of the attackers through the chest. He turned around, blocking another attack, and slicing the guy’s head off.

  Rhine looked around, saw half of his men on the ground mangled and bleeding. There were too many of them. Rhine tried to fend them off, but they came from all sides. One of the attackers sliced his leg. He yelled out in pain as they knocked his sword from his hands and threw him on his back.

  “Not him!” one of the attackers yelled, “leave this one alive.”

  It was over in seconds. Rhine looked around for any more survivors, but he saw only dead friends. Two men tied Rhine’s hands together and lifted him to his feet. A man walked towards him, appearing from the night, wearing a black hat. Rhine didn’t recognize him until he spoke.

>   “I told you that you would pay for what you did,” he said. He reached down and slammed Rhine’s head with the hilt of his sword, knocking him unconscious.

  5

  When his eyes opened, Rhine was being dragged on his back over dirt and jagged rocks. His back screamed in pain, his body rattled against the sharp stones under him. The world was still dark, he could barely see the crowd of men surrounding him. The rope tied around his ankles lead to a horse. He didn’t recognize where he was, but it was on the edge of the sand dunes some place.

  “He’s awake,” a man hovering over him grunted. “Hey, tell Rupp he’s awake.”

  A moment later the man wearing the black hat appeared. He leaned over, staring at Rhine as he was being dragged.

  “We killed all your friends,” he said with a smile, “Left them all back there for the crows. But you, no killing you would be far too easy. You’re gonna pay for everything you’ve done Rhine Toledo.”

  The bastard. The pain from being dragged was becoming overwhelming. At first he thought they were heading for Bly. Maybe they would put him on display, hang him in front of the whole town, but they’d been traveling for too long. Rhine couldn’t recognize where they were, but from his angle it was difficult to see beyond a few feet in all directions.

  The only time they stopped was in the morning, when the sun was just rising over the distant sand dunes. Rhine wanted