OTHERBORN: IN THE WASTELANDS ALONE

CHAPTER 6

MADDIE

The strange children surround us. Their body art and ripped leather jackets give them away—survivors of what our parents called the Hidden War.

I've heard stories about these kids, from Pithole Crew, maybe Neon and Race: how the stragglers took to the wilderness when the Mag began, and they supposedly learned the darkest secrets of humanity from the desert herself.

They wear thick face and body paint of all colors and patterns: red and black stripes across their noses, amateurish drawings of bizarre animals across their chests—everything from twin-headed giraffes to elephants with antlers and wings.

Some of the kids wield wooden baseball bats covered in spikes, and I wonder how they're created as I monitor the weapons with ragged gasps and shudders.

I hug Lucky close and approach the posturing youth who I assume is the leader of this group.

His eyes seem empty, rimmed with blue face paint. I believe he is leader because of how he stands, chin high, and his movements cause the others in his posse to flinch.

"You're trespassing," he says, waving his spiky bat.

I glance at the weapon, then swallow, unsure.

"I cannot get over the arrogance of it," another painted child whispers, not so quiet, in the leader's ear, then giggles hoarsely, urging him on.

"We didn't mean any threat." Kai steps in front of Lucky and me. "We'll leave."

"No," says the painted leader, if he is the leader. "You will pay the fine."

"Fine?" Kai screws up his face to assess his intention.

"Fine." The leader smirks, crinkling the blue paint on cheeks. "A million bucks."

"I haven't seen a dollar in years." Jayden scoffs. "Where would we get one, let alone a million of them?"

The painted children all giggle.

"A million dollars," says their leader. "Or we kill you all."

So this is a 'fight'. I consider running, but those bats.

We wouldn't get far.

Over the ridge I notice the group's camp, their rugged brown tents whipping in the wind. Where'd they get those?

The painted leader squints at me. "You don't look scared." A terrible pause. "You should be more scared." He smiles. "Can you do that for me?"

Then a heavyset, painted boy strolls out of the strange crowd. He clutches a large, panting male dog on a steel chain. I think the beast is a pit bull. He's nearly as large as the boy who restrains him.

Fin hugs me about the waist, and Lucky, who now clings to us both, holds his head to hers.

I pull Fin and Lucky closer.

The pit bull dips his head, his forelegs swelling, his claws sizzling in the hot dirt, and his upper lip rises and falls, offering quick glimpses of his menacing canines, his whiskers glowing beneath in the angry desert sun.

No one speaks for a while and the silence is oppressive. A painted boy whoops and a painted girl rattles what looks like a donkey skull full of smaller bones. We're outnumbered, and the reality of this settles in with a crushing certainty.

A deep, low growl from the dog makes me flinch.

Kai backs up, near me at length.

My eyes shift to him and he looks at me too.