The Feathers of Fire [1st DRAFT]

3. The one . . . the only . . .

                      We arrived shortly after the sun peeked over the horizon. The twins were asleep and Jeremy had nodded off a few times during the night but seemed too scared of falling off to stay asleep for long. I could see the flat buildings in the pale dawn. The town seemed dead quiet, but I knew of a few that were scurrying around in there, most likely at the city's center.

                    We rode through the outskirts of buildings that had been abandoned, collapsed, and mostly made out of scraps from other structures. I turned onto one of the main highways that would lead me to the dwelling of the best trader, in my opinion, in the city. Benito's hooves clopped noisily on the road, and I could feel the unseen eyes of hidden people watching me from their secret perches as I entered the city. I kept one hand on my pistol.

                    Some crows were picking at a deer carcass on the side of the road. The deer looked fresh, and I planned on coming back for it later to look for any accessible meat. It might be gross, but when you live in a famine like this, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. The noise woke the boys up and they rubbed their eyes, yawned and stretched as we slowed town to walk. I pulled on Benito's reins and we came to a halt.

                   The boys, who were still in a sleepy daze, looked around lazily. "Alright," I told them firmly. "This is where you get off." They looked startled, but slowly slipped off the horse's back. I dismounted as well to check the saddle bags. I looked up, the sun slowly rising, shining light over the sign in front of me reading: DURANGO Centro; MAZATLAN.

                   I looked down at them, turning around cautiously, taking in their surroundings. There were gas stations and small stores around, I was pretty sure they'd be able to scavenge something to help them live.

                   I made to spur Benito, but Beanstalk stopped me. "Wait!" he said. I groaned. "Can't you at least tell us what to do here first?"

                    I blinked. What to do first? I thought for a moment. "Look for shelter in some run down building and don't expect to find a luxurious place to settle down in. Once you have shelter, defend it with all you got, because it is all you got. Scavenge for food and water, be careful with any fire you build, oh, and . . . I probably ought to mention, don't go in those," I gestured to the many old and damaged cars that littered the curb.

                     "Why?" Slug asked. "Cuz, most of those are already taken, and the hermits living there are almost definitely armed. They also go by the rules I just told you, and they defend their shelter with all that they got. And trust me, they got more than the likes of you can handle."

                        Cricket raised his hand, as if this was a school lecture. "You don't have to do that," I said. He put his hand down. "Why do we have to find a specific spot to defend?" He asked. I rolled my eyes. "It's either settle down with what you have or do what I do. Being constantly on the move isn't fun, but I can't afford to stop. And I can't afford any more hitchhikers. "

                        There was an awkward silence then. I leaned closer to them. "If you find anything of any remote value, there'll be someone around here that'll trade something good for it, you just gotta find someone that is willing. I'd also encourage you to find or make a weapon, because something tells me that your noodle arms aren't gonna protect you out here." Beanstalk looked sadly down at his skinny limbs.

                        He looked up at me with fear in his eyes. "Do you even think we'll survive the night?" I thought about it, as I mounted Benito. "I'd give you a forty five percent chance." I told them. They didn't seem reassured. "Good luck," I said grimly and whipped the reins, watching them disappear down the road as I traveled deeper into the city, glad to finally have them off my back.

                       The sun cast long shadows over the concrete and asphalt when I approached the Catedral Basilica. The Cathedral was a grand building with a white stone entrance supported by pillars that had turned an aged yellow over the centuries. Carved at the front of the building were statues of what looked like priests and saints.

                       Two towers rose on either corner of the front of the building, each having their own levels. I rode towards the tall arched door made out of some dark brown wood with rustic looking nails in the edges. The actual doors popped out of the bottom of the large one, so that normal sized people could enter.

                       Technically, since this was a place of religious worship, we weren't supposed to inhabit it, but like I'd just told the boys, once you find a shelter, you defend it with all you got. The trader I was looking for however, didn't live inside of the building, he lived on top.

                       Now one important thing you need to know is that in a place like Durango, you're vulnerable when dismounting a horse. I looked around carefully, and held my pistol high as I slid from Benito's back. I pulled several small pouches from the saddle bags and backed up until I hit the building, still brandishing my gun. I didn't have to tie Benito up because he was obedient and intelligent. He knew where we were and he knew how to act if anyone approached him.

                     I walked through the opening in the steel bar fence that enclosed the cathedral and ran to the east side. On that side of the building there was a similar entrance. I had callused my hands and trained my muscles over the years to qualify myself for what I had to do next. I used the statues and engraved markings on the wall for hand and foot holds. Within five minutes I found myself on the roof. The two towers stretched upward, each having three layers of complex window sills, mini statues, metal railings, columns and arches, all in the same faded yellowish beige.

                     Inside the bottom level of both towers, visible through the arches, were huge gray bells that had turned a greenish color over the centuries. In the second layer of the East tower the bells had been removed decades before after the area was shaken by an unexpected earthquake that had damaged the building. Now, in the faint light of dawn the tower's second layer was occupied by a soft, one foot tall, waterproof, and breathable air mattress. The owner of said mattress bragged about a lot, even though it was a very old model from the 2040's. It was more than most people had around here.

                     There were other things of course but most of them were hidden, after all, around here it wouldn't be considered wise to put your expensive stuff on display for all of the desperate homeless people to steal. He was a fool for even letting a corner of his beloved air mattress show, but he insisted that he could protect it.

                      Normally, to get his attention, I'd do a special series of snaps we'd come up with so nobody around got too suspicious of the transactions taking place up there, but before I could even get my fingers in the proper formation a flicker of movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. From the top floor of the West tower a long shimmering golden scarf was thrown to the ground, with one end tied to a railing.

                     Once the other end floated gently down until it brushed the roof it tightened as someone climbed over the railing and slid down it like a fire pole.

                       He zipped down roughly twenty feet and yelled in a reality TV show kind of voice "The one . . ." He came too close to the tower and kicked himself away. "The only . . ." He kicked himself away once more. "LUIS!" He cried joyfully as his feet touched down. He gave a deep bow and spread his hands above his head in a celebratory way.

                        He looked just like I remembered him with, his tawny skin glowing as usual, his shiny afro of bronze hair bouncing in the slight breeze, his perfectly straight and sparkling white teeth giving me an award winning smile, and his dark, bushy eyebrows wriggling like caterpillars above his coffee colored eyes.

                  I was fuming, seeing as he probably just woken up the whole city and alerted them to our presence with his fancy entrance. "There she is! My favorite client! Do tell, what do you have for me this time?" he asked, rubbing his hands together greedily. He saw my expression and his smile melted. Just a heads up, I slip into Spanish when I'm angry. After a count of five I finally growled "Eres un idiota!"