The City in the Storm: (Post Apocalyptic Fiction) (Collision Course Book 3) Read online

  How did they have the means for a bathing area? Jakobe was lucky to wash once a month back east. There wasn't much point to waste water on anything except consumption. Sedi waited for him outside the hut.

  "Are you in charge of watching me or something?" Jakobe asked and adjusted the baggy shirt. It came down past his waist; the denim pants dug into his hips and hugged his thighs.

  "Would you rather have someone else?"

  "Depends, are you gonna throw me in a cell again?"

  "Of course not—unless the council tells me to."

  "Well, that's fair enough." Jakobe chuckled and shrugged. "Where to now?"

  Sedi pointed his finger ahead to a cone-shaped building.

  "What's in there? Please say a comfortable bed."

  "Council members who want to hear your story before they discuss your case with Robe." Sedi walked ahead with a noticeable limp.

  Jakobe never noticed that before. He never saw much of Sedi except when he brought him food and sat on the wall opposite his cell to talk. "Anything I should know about the council?"

  "They're old, and think they're a lot smarter than they actually are," Sedi replied nonchalantly and stepped to the side when they reached the building. "You'll be fine."

  "Why are you so encouraging?"

  "I'm not. I just mean it. You'll be fine. If you were from the West heading east, there'd be some issues. I think they might just be more curious about you than anything."

  Jakobe entered the open door and saw five people sitting in a semi-circle on wooden chairs. The woman in the center bit her lower lip when Jakobe walked in, showing off her enormous buck teeth. She moved her feet to the side, revealing how beat up and dirty the chairs were. Each one was stained and chipped. They looked on the verge of collapsing.

  "Jakobe, is it? Yet on your possessions you have the initials KO; why is that?" the old man on the end asked. He was mostly bald with a crown of black and gray hair wrapping around the bottom of his head. He was also the shortest member of the council, and his feet didn't reach the ground.

  "People called me Kobe when I was younger. It's when I started marking all my possessions. I guess the habit never died."

  "Never died in a place like the East? Now that's impressive," the woman in the center said and dragged her gaze up Jakobe's legs and torso before locking on his eyes. "And you made it all this way alone?" She brushed a strand of her gray hair behind her ear. Her mouth was surrounded by deep laugh lines.

  "I was chased. I was hoping to find a new life in the West. A life with a little less running." Jakobe sized up each member of the council. The woman in the middle smiled at him. Her eyes went up and down his body, and her smile made him blush. Something about the way she looked at him made Jakobe feel safe. He could feel in his gut she wanted to believe him, but he wasn't sure about the others. The one who asked about his initials looked the most attentive, while the man on the opposite end leaned forward in his seat. It wasn't to concentrate. Jakobe could see his eyes were half-closed, and his head nodded along mindlessly to each point made. The two remaining women were by far the youngest and identical. They had the same light brown skin and narrow faces with round, protruding chins. They had the same light brown eyes and short black hair.

  "You say you were chased, yet we found you alone. Did you lose those who were following you?" the woman on the right asked.

  "Or should we be expecting more trespassers?" the woman on the left asked.

  "Why were they chasing you?" the man on the end asked. "The last thing we need is someone bringing bad blood through our city."

  "Like we don't get enough of that from Red Eye and his agreement with the Hammers," the woman in the middle waved off the man's suggestion. "Jakobe, do you really think a better life is waiting for you in the West, or are you just scared of what's waiting for you back east?"

  "Can't it be both?" he asked, looking at the five council members. "I know you have to discuss if I'm given entry to the West or banished back to the East, but why is this even a concern? I'm not looking to cause trouble; I don't have any illusions of treasure and conquest. I'm hoping to find anonymity. Believe me, the last thing I want is for anyone to recognize me."

  The man on the end looked at the other members then back at Jakobe and sighed. "We do believe you, but you may be under the false impression that the exit to the storm is some vast city you can blend right into. The West does have more semblance of civilization than you're used to, but the first year of your life will be convincing people you've been there all along. You'll stand out. You may not realize it, but those in the West act differently than those in the East, and most small towns know everyone living there on a first name basis. How will you explain your arrival?"

  "I won't need to live in a town. I'll live anywhere that isn't the East. I'll live here if I have to," Jakobe said.

  "Have to? You think this is a punishment?" the woman on the right asked.

  "I don't know what it is, but I know it's better than where I came from," Jakobe replied and put his hands behind his back. He closed his mouth and offered a harmless smile, attempting to appear as non-threatening as possible.

  "Who were the people chasing you into the storm?" the bald man on the far right asked.

  "Why does that matter?" Jakobe looked at him without turning his head. He wanted the woman to ask him more questions. She seemed the most interested in him; the others gave him the impression they were looking for an excuse to send him back east.

  "Should matter a great deal. We want to know of any potential threats we may see in the near and distant future. If there's bad blood waiting for you in the East, we want to be able to recognize them in case they brave the storm again and reach the city."

  "It was Robe's brother." Jakobe clenched his jaw. "His brother and his three followers."

  "The gangs of the East are notorious for their lack of discipline and expansive imagination. Why should we trust you left that life behind you? You say you want to live a low profile life in the West, but I don't trust you. If you go wild, you understand the consequences—you will die. If you come to terms with that, there's no stopping you, and once you reveal yourself, we're on the line for it." The bald man on the right cleared his throat and looked to the other four members of the council, waiting for someone to chime in.

  "Why did you join this gang? Was it for survival?" the woman in the center asked. She dropped her chin so she could look up at Jakobe with her wide brown eyes.

  "I was escaping Clive and the White Liners. They were going to sell me to the Hammers." The council fell silent when Jakobe said “Hammers.” He looked each council member in the eyes, even the wide-faced, overweight man on the far left who slept through most of the meeting.

  "Clive killed everyone in my camp and brought me into the White Liners when I was only thirteen. I thought he was preparing me for the world, then I found out he was just feeding me for slaughter. Hammers were heading east because you let them through." Jakobe felt himself growing angrier the more he spoke. Who were these council members to deem if he could cross into the West? They let the worst of Red Eye's army cross; they let collectors cross and anyone looking to take what little resources the East had to offer back to the West with them. They even let Hammers cross freely to terrorize both sides of the storm divide, yet he wasn't fit to make a better life for himself in the West? He clenched his hands into fists behind his back until his nails dug into his palms.

  "Are you still a member of the White Liners?" the bald man asked. Jakobe couldn't believe he actually asked that question. He turned to face him and noticed for the first time the man had a sharp snaggletooth sticking out over his bottom lip. The man had kept his mouth open the entire time, either talking or waiting to cut in and talk, so Jakobe never saw it.

  "Are you kidding me? Still a member? They wanted to kill me," Jakobe said.

  "Sounds like they wanted to sell you," the woman cut in.

  "To Hammers! What? Are you worried I'm going to head w
est as a White Liner? No one in the West will recognize me."

  "Not even Clive?" the woman asked.

  "Excuse me?"

  "You've been riding with Robe's brother for a few years now. You probably aren't aware that Clive has become a more important part of Red Eye's army. He isn't just a kid with access to his father's army anymore. Red Eye keeps him close to maintain order in the East and West and to run oversee supply runs. Even if you can maintain a low profile in the West, it's only a matter of time before Clive sees you," the woman said.

  "And when he does, we will be the ones to pay. Red Eye has too many enemies in the West now. The smaller cities and larger tribes want him gone. Oversight is not tolerated, and letting you go would only risk our lives, so I'm sorry to say unless Robe convinces me otherwise, I will not support the motion to approve your right of passage," the bald man said.

  The rest of the council except the woman agreed with the bald man, and they dismissed. Jakobe stood still and stared at his feet as they passed him. When he and the center woman were alone, she said, "You can call me Kendra."

  "You can call me dead," Jakobe said and looked up at her. "Send me any direction but west, and I'm dead. The White Liners want me dead; Lyo wants me dead; whatever creatures in the storm off the main road will kill me. There's no hope for me anywhere but west."

  "Then there's no hope for you at all," she replied and left him alone in the hut.

  4

  Sedi and Jakobe sat side by side in the park. Jakobe had never seen anything like it. A round patch of healthy green grass with a handful of trees. The grass was unkempt, and its blades grew in different lengths. Patches of yellow flowers popped up randomly like little freckles—at least he thought they were flowers. There wasn’t much else. Jakobe couldn’t put his finger on what made the park so beautiful; it was simple and empty and innocent. It looked untouched by people—like if the city disappeared that second, it would remain the exact same. There was no one in the park except Jakobe and Sedi. Jakobe laid back and looked up at the branches of the closest tree. "You ever think about leaving this place?"

  "Constantly. Only a matter of time before we have to," Sedi said.

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "Well, it's not like it's going to happen tomorrow, but the eye is always closing. One day the divide between east and west will be permanent."

  "Why would anyone stay here then?"

  "What other choice do we have? Head east, and we’ll die. None of us know how to navigate a wasteland like that. Head west, we're even more at Red Eye's mercy. No one can stay in one place forever. You spent your life running around the East. But did you ever find a place you wanted to stay just a little longer?" Sedi asked.

  "Our last camp was on a mountain. Snow at the top melted, and a river started at its base. The water wasn't contaminant-free, but there wasn't much, so we could purify a lot of it pretty quickly." Jakobe ran his hands over his face and took a deep breath. "We had to run because of a raid—because I let some people go."

  "See what I mean? The East is a different beast. Here, we built a community that's only strong if we take into account everyone's needs. You were punished for your mercy because everyone in the East is trying to survive. Nothing grows, so everyone, even your own family, is taking away your potential to survive when they consume resources you could've saved for yourself. Here, we need to make sure everyone is nourished and strong. Our entire system relies on cooperation."

  "Mine did too. I didn't cooperate and kill those who ran away from the raid. They went to the White Liners, who have had it in for me since I ran away from Clive, and our only choice was to run. Lyo wanted to head south; I wanted to head west."

  "Do you regret it now?" Sedi asked and tilted his head. He couldn't understand how anyone could be a part of a family and willfully run away. The look on his face asked what are you doing here?

  "Do I regret not killing the stragglers? Of course. Do I regret not heading to the dumping grounds? Not even a little. As you said before, in the East, you can either move or die. The dumping grounds are a sink pit. Once you're there, you lose all your energy. I've been close enough to feel the effects. Your body feels heavy and just drags along, and after a while, you can barely open your eyes. I don't think it kills you so much as disintegrates you. It's more like you're removed from existence altogether," Jakobe replied and looked around at the park again. Just seeing the colors was enough to make him smile.

  He saw some life back east when he rode north but nothing like the park in the city. The greens in the East were pale and transparent. More like a flimsy mask veiling the death beneath it. But here in the city, it sprouted from life. It wasn't a bed sheet hiding something; it was layer upon layer of life and happiness.

  "I hope you make it west," Sedi said and looked back toward the cone hut in the center of their town. Robe walked up the shallow hill toward them.

  "Does he ever smile?" Jakobe whispered and tried not to move his lips, scared Robe would read them and feel insulted.

  "I'm sure you know what kind of news I'm bringing," he said and scratched his eyebrow. He looked bored, like he drew the short straw and had to deliver the news while the council went on with their lives.

  "Sending me back east?"

  Robe nodded.

  "Am I at least getting my weapons back? Or are you just sentencing me to execution without the stones to carry it out yourself?" Jakobe wanted to spit venom at him. He wanted to see the city burn. A bunch of cowards, that's all they were. So scared of Red Eye they would doom the rest of the world and lie to themselves about the need for peace.

  "If Red Eye is overthrown, what would that mean for his loyal servants?" Jakobe glanced at Robe then Sedi. "Would be a shame if you were all replaced, or cleared out entirely so the stepping stones could be free for anyone to use."

  "The stepping stones only exist because of us. If Red Eye is killed, the eye will remain open, but no one would cross the divide. As for your weapons, you know very well we can't let a desperate man carry guns. If you think you're gonna die back east, you might think you have nothing to lose and attempt to kill us all."

  "Why would I do something that would lead to certain death?" Jakobe asked.

  Robe shrugged. He tilted his head up so he could look down at Jakobe. His long, sharp chin looked like a black crescent moon. "You braved the storm. You didn't even have a bike by the time you reached the city. A man as desperate as you is dangerous. We'll give you the courtesy of a night's rest in the cell. You'll leave in the morning." Robe turned away.

  Jakobe wanted to lash out at him and strike, but he stopped himself. He thought of all the times Forte egged him on.

  Robe was at least a foot taller than him with broad shoulders and legs the size of tree trunks. He could snap Jakobe in half with two fingers then toss him into the storm. No, he wasn't going to escape with force. He needed a plan.

  5

  Sedi led him to the cell. His eyes were on the ground most of the way. When they first started walking, Sedi's eyes were laser-focused on Jakobe's every move, but as Jakobe slouched, dragged his feet, and put up zero resistance, Sedi relaxed.

  "I'm really sorry about all this," he said and opened the cell door.

  "No, you're not. If you were sorry about it, you would help me escape to the East. You feel guilty and want me to appease your guilt before I go. It's not gonna happen. The only consequence you have to deal with is a little discomfort from your conscience. I got a bunch of people fighting for the chance to turn me into a corpse."

  Jakobe started in the cell without resistance, but as he stepped by Sedi, he turned and swung his shin into Sedi's crotch. Sedi's eyes bulged from their sockets; when he bent forward in pain, Jakobe struck the front of his throat with the curve of his extended hand, between his thumb and index finger. He then grabbed Sedi by the back of the head and pushed him down just as he raised his knee.

  Sedi fell back in the cell, and Jaokbe checked him for weapons. He patted down h
is jacket and pants but couldn't find anything except keys to the cell. “Oh, come on," he said and took the keys and the jacket before locking Sedi in his cell. He then placed the key between his two fingers like a claw and ran out of the cell.

  No one expected him to attempt an escape. The stone jailhouse where they housed prisoners was empty, and when Jakobe walked out on the streets, he didn't see anyone. He pulled up the collar on Sedi's jacket and kept his head down. Of course, anyone who looked at him would know at once it wasn't Sedi. They had the same short hair and light brown skin, but that was about it. Jakobe had to pull at the bottom of the jacket to keep it from climbing over his waist. It was snug on his arms and short on his torso but wide on his waist like he was walking in an eggshell.

  His heart raced as he walked toward the hut in the center of town. When he was within a stone’s throw of the cone-shaped lodge, his stomach dropped. He never thought he would make it this far; he assumed one way or another they would show him where he needed to go. He didn't know which way was west.

  "Think, think," he muttered under his breath and looked at the rest of the city. Behind him was one of the two parks, and extending out toward the storm, the buildings grew larger. He tried to remember the first building he saw when he first entered the storm.

  By the threshold dividing the eye of the storm from the chaos, he saw the cars lined up. All intact compared to the cars he dealt with in the East, but for the most part, they seemed abandoned. The larger buildings looked the same, each one made of concrete. Some were missing more windows than others.

  The closer he moved to the center of the city, the more alive it all felt. The largest buildings in the city felt more like the past, like a part of the city they kept and found a use for but couldn't justify maintaining. The smaller buildings circling the center of the city around the cone hut where the council met had the most color. He could hear people inside the buildings, talking with one another, dragging furniture across the floor and laughing.