Storm of Locusts

Chapter 30

I’m back on the curb watching another sunrise when I hear her footsteps. After a moment Rissa drops down to sit beside me. She’s back in her brown leather pants, but instead of her jacket, she’s sporting a tight baby-blue T-shirt that says “Arizona Angel” in a flowery rhinestone-studded script, a little gold halo hanging from the l. The morning light catches in the rhinestones, making them they sparkle like diamonds. She has bags under her eyes from lack of sleep, but she’s obviously taken a shower, and her red hair haloes around her head in tight curls. She stretches out her long legs and says nothing. She’s holding a cup in each hand, steam rising in the morning air. I can smell the heavenly aroma of coffee.

“You look like an angel,” I tell her. “A beautiful coffee-bearing angel.”

“Screw you,” she says good-naturedly. “It was the only shirt in the gift shop in my size. Besides, you don’t look that great yourself. That’s why I brought you this.”

She sets down a cup, reaches into her back pocket, and pulls out a black T-shirt. Slaps it against my chest. I catch it, unfold it. Emblazoned across the chest is a dream catcher, and in the center of the dream catcher, a wolf’s head, fur limned in purples and grays, eyes shining in the morning light.

“What is this shit?” I ask.

Rissa shrugs. “Clean is clean, right?”

“I’m not wearing this.”

“Fine. Wear your dirty shirt.”

I look down at the shirt I’m wearing. There are no visible bloodstains, no holes left behind from knife wounds or gunshots. No, check that. Part of my sleeve is sliced open from my run-in with the canyon rocks, and, if I’m honest, the problem isn’t my shirt, it’s my smell. “What I need is a shower,” I admit.

Rissa leans in for an exaggerated sniff. “Yeah, you do.”

“I wonder if the casino will let me in now,” I say, handing the wolf T-shirt back. She trades it for the cup of coffee. I take that, more grateful for anything than I’ve ever been in my life.

“Coffee is from the Coyote,” she says. “A parting gift, he said. He also promised there’s nothing weird in it, but . . .” She shrugs.

I take a sip. “I trust him.”

“I have no idea why.”

“Friends close and enemies closer?”

“Speaking of friends,” she says, voice catching a bit, “I owe you an apology.” She looks over at me, eyes a little fuzzy with some emotion.

I could not have been more surprised if Kai fell from the sky and landed in my lap.

“For what?”

She looks over the edge of her cup at the fading bruise on my cheek.

“Oh, that. Yeah, you do. And for a couple of other things too.”

“Running you out of Black Mesa?”

“That’s one.”

“Being a solid bitch this whole time?”

“Two.”

She sighs. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

“Am I supposed to?”

“Jesus,” she says. “Clive was right. You really are an emotional cripple.”

I laugh. She looks at me, trying to gauge my mood. Whatever she reads on my face makes her laugh too. And all the stress and anger and fear that’s been dogging me for weeks comes bubbling up in a mix of hysteria and release. And the more I laugh, the more Rissa laughs too, and soon we’re both howling like a couple of loons. And for a few minutes on a crumbling curb over a cup of coffee, I feel almost human.

“At least tell me you took a shower,” I say. “Got some sleep.”

“Less than you think,” she murmurs, sipping from her cup. “But the beds are nice.”

I arch an eyebrow in her direction. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“If you think it means me and Aaron spent the night together, then yes.”

“Are you forgetting that guy ran a body shop?”

“He didn’t run it. He worked there. And he didn’t have a choice.”

“Aren’t you the one saying we always have a choice?”

She sighs. “Okay, then, Maggie. Let’s judge him by his worst deeds, shall we?”

“I didn’t mean that. I just mean . . . be careful. You don’t really know him. He’s a murderer.”

“And you’re not?”

I flinch. “That’s a low blow.”

She holds up a hand in apology. “You’re right. I didn’t . . . I mean, we’ve all got problems, right? Aaron didn’t choose Knifetown. He’s out now, and he wants to change. Is changing. I’m not forgetting what he’s done, but I’m not holding his past against him.”

“It’s not the past. It was literally two days ago.”

“I’m not saying I’m going to marry him.” She exhales, brushes her hair back from her face.

“Sorry. I guess I just don’t get what you see in him.”

She shrugs. Moves some gravel around with her toe. “Life is short, Maggie. Even shorter since the Big Water. Sometimes you just have to take people as they are, not worry about whether they’re good for you in the long run. Because what if there is no long run? What if there’s just a night in a haunted casino in the middle of the badlands?”

I take a long sip of my coffee. “Kai told me he loved me.”

Rissa’s expression a mix of curious and concerned. “Yeah, I saw the tape. Do you believe him?”

“I don’t know. No one’s ever told me that before.”

She nods, surprisingly sympathetic. “If it’s true, that’s something to hold on to. It’s rarer in this world that you think.”

“I think it’s pretty rare.”

“Did you and Kai . . . ?”

I shake my head. “I thought about it. Wanted to. In your mom’s library, actually.”

She sticks out her tongue. “You did not!”

I look over at her, a wave of sadness rolling through by body. “No, I didn’t. I couldn’t get out of my head. I’ve got issues, if you haven’t notice.”

“Oh, I noticed.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey,” she says, pushing gently on my shoulder. “Don’t do that. I was wrong about you, okay? I admit it. I mean, not that you don’t have issues, because clearly . . . I thought you didn’t care about anyone but yourself. But I can see now that you care about Kai. And you care about Ben.” She cocks her head and smiles. “And considering that you stuck around Twin Arrows and played the shoe game with a god to try to free us, I think you care about me, too.”

“Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head.”

“Sorry.” She grins, showing teeth. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me now.”

“Is that a threat? Because you make that sound like a threat.”

“You bet your ass it is.”

I sit there for a while, staring out across the parking lot. Feeling something, even if I’m not exactly sure what. A good something, that much I know. A new something. Besides Kai, I haven’t had friends since I met Neizghání. Definitely not family. And I’m not sure what that means, what’s expected of me to be Rissa’s friend. But I’m willing to try.

Another moment passes before Rissa says, “Mósí’s not coming.”

I nod, unsurprised. “I expected as much. I think coming here was her plan all along.”

Rissa gives me a questioning look.

“To find Nohoilpi,” I explain. “Back in Tse Bonito when we picked her up, she made a deal with me and Clive. Safe passage to wherever she wanted to go in the Malpais in exchange for maps and supplies. She was secretive about her destination, but I think this place was it all along.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

I shrug. Blow across my coffee, sending the steam swirling. “Not really. It’s about what I expect from a cat. Where did Ma’ii get this, by the way?” I hold up my cup.

“There’s a whole kitchen in there. Stocked like the day they left it. Anything you want that doesn’t rot.” She clears her throat. “There’s something else you need to know. I think the White Locust is Aaron’s brother.”

I hesitate, but then say, “I do too.”

“We were talking last night after we . . . What? You do?”

“I heard you in the airplane. Not a lot—I wasn’t eavesdropping. But I heard enough.”

She cradles her coffee tighter in her hands. “Aaron keeps saying he thinks he’s dead, but I don’t think he really believes it. I don’t think I believe it. Gideon can’t be that popular a name.”

“Maybe it’s not such a good idea to have Aaron come to Amangiri with us,” I say.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you thought it.”

“No. I’m not saying we dump him. I’m saying that’s information for us to know. That’s it. And if it becomes an issue, we’ll deal with it then.”

“You mean kill him?”

She looks down, runs a thumb around the edge of her cup. “I . . . hope not.”

“So it’s not just snagging. You have feelings for Aaron.”

“He knew my brother, knows that part of my life. And he gets me, you know?” She lowers her head. “He respects who I am.” Her mouth quirks up at the side. “And he’s got a really big dick.”

I spit my coffee on the pavement. She laughs. Slaps my leg. “Come on. Let’s go find the others. Did you know there’s a lower-level garage full of vintage automobiles here? Aaron and Ben are picking out a car, but I don’t really trust their tastes.”

“Jesus, Rissa. Does Grace know you talk like that?”

She waggles her eyebrows at me. “Where do you think I learned it?”

She’s probably right. I push myself up off the curb, stretching in the morning light. Happy to get back on the road soon. “By the way,” I say, “I meant that angel thing as a compliment.”

She laughs, and it turns into a belch. “Sure you did, Maggie. Sure you did.”

The casino does, in fact, let me in, and after a quick shower, Rissa and I head down to the garage. The car Aaron has picked out of an impressive garage of vintage cars is a 1950 Mercury Cobra, a two-door coupe with a drop-top, painted turquoise blue with a darker lid. It’s outrageous, a classic lead sled, the likes of which I’ve never seen in person. I fall in love immediately.

“Want to drive?” he asks, holding out the keys.

“I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

“What about these other cars?” Ben asks. She points to a late-model German import. It looks fast enough, serviceable.

“No style,” I tell her. “Why would you pick that when you can drive this—”

“—hunk of metal that is almost a hundred years old if it’s a day,” Rissa interrupts. “I mean, I don’t know. Reliability? Comfort? Safety?”

Aaron’s face falls a little, but I say, “You don’t know beauty when you see it.” I unbuckle the scabbard holding Neizghání’s sword and hand it to Ben. Pause for a moment to take in her new outfit. Same big boots with green camo pants a few sizes too big and a plain black T-shirt.

“What happened to the dress?” I ask.

She shrugs one thin shoulder. “You were right. It wasn’t very practical. I need to be focused on the task at hand.”

“Which is?”

“Killing the White Locust.”

“Right.” I open the door to the Mercury and slide into the low boxy interior. Feel the leather seats under my ass. Maybe purr a little.

“It’s the real deal, too,” Aaron says enthusiastically. “They used to build knockoffs, fiberglass wannabes, but this is all Detroit steel.”

“Now you’re just trying to sweet-talk me, Aaron.”

He grins. “Try the engine.”

It turns over without a hitch.

“Well, at least it runs,” Rissa mutters. “What about fuel?”

“There’s enough. Engine’s been modified. Extra tank, too. Made for desert crossings. Look at this.”

Aaron draws our attention to a complex HVAC system that includes a series of vents, blowers, and a breathing mask. “It’s to filter the air,” he explains. “And to try to keep it cool during the day, but I’m afraid it’s still going to bake like the proverbial oven. Can’t be helped. Oh, I almost forgot. I found this.”

Aaron hands me a glossy folded brochure. I take it. Smooth out the trifold. In an understated script, it reads: THE AMANGIRI RESORT & SPA, CANYON POINT, UTAH. The inside describes a five-star experience, including luxury accommodations, an award-winning spa, and fine dining.

“Where did you get this?”

“In the lobby of the casino. One of those kiosks with handouts on all the local attractions.”

“This has got to be it,” I say, looking through the elegant photos of the wealthy and relaxed enjoying the exclusive amenities of Amangiri. “But a luxury resort?”

“Makes sense,” Rissa says, looking over my shoulder. “It’s probably long abandoned, but it checks all the boxes. Secluded, exclusive. Big enough to house all his minions.”

She’s right. “How long does it take to get to”—I turn it over to look at the front again—“Canyon Point, Utah?”

“Depends on the road,” Aaron says. “I haven’t been north of Flagstaff in more than a year, but last time Bishop had us venture up, the road was in pretty good shape. There’s a handful of settlements out that way. You’re close enough to the Kingdom that there’s not too much to worry about safety-wise. Bishop tried to make some headway out there, for our . . . enterprises”—he glances at Rissa, who’s looking pointedly at her own fingernails—“but the Kingdom was reluctant. Slaughtered half the crew in a shootout. Called us godless and said don’t come back unless it was with a Book of Mormon in our hands.”

“But I saw Kingdom representatives at the Knifetown auction,” I say.

He shrugs. “I’m no politician. From here, Canyon Point’s likely three, four hours, depending on the condition of the roads. Could be longer if there’s trouble or if the highway’s shot to shit.”

“What about Wahweap?”

“What’s a Wahweap?”

“The place Nohoilpi said to go. He said that was our way in to Amangiri. Do you see it on the map?”

Aaron dutifully checks the map. “I see it. Just down the lake from Canyon Point. Right on Lake Powell. Looks like we could take a boat from there to Canyon Point, come in on the lakeside, avoid roads. It’s smart.”

“You think we can make it to Wahweap by noon?” I ask, the thought that by tonight I could see Kai again, could touch him, is almost too much to think about.

“Why not?”

“Sounds like it’s time to start thinking about how we’re going to kill the White Locust, then,” Ben says.

I glance over at Aaron, who’s scratching at his burn scars. He’s looking at Ben, an expression on his face that’s hard to read.

“Get in the car, Ben,” I say quietly. She complies, sliding into the back seat. Aaron climbs in next to her, and Rissa joins me in the front.

I run my hands around the steering wheel. Press gently on the gas pedal, and the Mercury answers me like the lover she is. “Yes, baby,” I murmur.

From the back seat, Ben shouts, “Get in, losers! We’re going to Amangiri!”