Phoenix

Meeting the Wanderers

Ash woke to the smell of smoke. When she opened her eyes, she noticed the mud brick walls no longer glinted with golden light from outside but flickered a toffee orange.

Night had fallen and a small fire had been lit at the centre of the room, ringed by stones. Smoke clung to the straw roof where thin strips of meat had been hung. It gathered like a cloud before funnelling through a raised hole at the centre of the straw and out into the night.

Four figures sat quietly around the fire pit, poking the coals every now and then with long, pointy sticks. They were so entranced by the flames, they forgot to blink, giving their smoke-stung eyes a faraway glaze.

Ash sat up, no longer crippled by dizziness and rolled her shoulders where the muscles had ceased with sleep. Noticing her movement, the four sets of eyes turned to look at her and the glazed expressions lifted.

The big man on the far side of the fire grinned. The whites of his teeth stood out against his chestnut skin. "Hello, lass. Good to see you're finally awake." He waved a log of an arm in Ash's direction. It was riddled with spiderweb tattoos. "Name's Gunner." The last word came out like a grunt.

The young man opposite him stood and walked over. He was short, muscular, freckled on every exposed patch of skin. "Shorty," he said. "A pleasure." He extended an oversized hand, winced and changed hands. A white bandage was wrapped around his forearm just below the elbow. When Ash didn't take his hand, he ran it through his sandy hair, causing it to stick up in all directions. "Plenty of time to get to know each other, hey?"

Gunner boomed with laughter. "Doesn't trust you already, Shorty. Smart girl." He winked at Ash. "What's your name, lass?"

Ash opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

Gigi, who'd been watching the exchange with interest, tutted. "Look at that. You've scared the poor girl mute."

The young woman on Gunner's left, the only one who hadn't said anything yet, scoffed. "No point getting acquainted until we know if she's going to come with us." She shook her head causing her long tresses of auburn hair to shimmer down her back. Against the light of the fire, her pale skin was petal pink.

"Come on, Miki. Of course she's coming with us," Shorty said, giving the red-haired girl a pointed look. "Who in their right mind would go back to that god-forsaken city?"

Gigi stood. "She doesn't have to go anywhere she doesn't want to."

They all turned to Ash expectantly, as though waiting for her input. Ash stared from one to the other, unable to find her voice.

Gigi broke the silence. "How about you kids go and get the bikes ready. I'll speak to Ash."

Shorty threw his stick into the fire. "They could do with a polish." He started towards door.

Miki and Gunner threw their sticks into the fire and followed him, Gunner stooping almost in half to get his bulk through the small bark opening. All three donned black leather jackets as they left, and Ash realised they were the motorbike riders that had picked her up off the street. She didn't know what she was expecting behind those helmets, but she didn't expect them to be so... normal.

But there were four riders before? Where was the fourth rider now?

Gigi bustled over with a bread roll, a cup of tea with rose petals floating in it, and a dish of smoked meat, cut into bite-sized pieces.

Ash eyed the food warily. She hadn't forgotten the old woman's trick with the sedative. But like a wild dog tamed, her mouth watered with the memory of the soup and her hands travel to the plate of their own accord. It had been so long since she'd had a cut of meat, she barely remembered what it tasted like. She picked up the smallest cube and nibbled. It was salty, tender and made her moan. Soon, she was shoving the rest of the plate's contents in her mouth and licking clean her fingers.

Gigi waited for her to finish chewing before she spoke. "Don't worry about them. They might be a little rough around the edges, but they mean well."

Perhaps it was Gigi's soothing tone, or the depth of understanding in those nut brown eyes, flecked with amber and ringed like a cross-section of trunk. All Ash knew was that she'd much rather be standing there with Gigi, than under Director's piercing black gaze.

Gigi was still talking, "Gunner's a gentle giant. You can count on him. Miki can be difficult at times, but she's as protective as a hound. Shorty's a dirt-bike with too big an engine, but the type of bike that would off-road for anyone. And my son, well, he's the one who rode with you. You'll meet him soon."

Gigi handed Ash a spare leather jacket and helped her pull it on. Ash cleared her throat. "Where are they taking me?" the question came out in a croak.

"They're taking you across the Southern Sea, to a little island we like to call Paradise."

At the mystified look on Ash's face, she continued. "You're one of us now, deary. A Wanderer. Without home or family. You'll fit in just fine."

Ash felt her heart skip a beat. Paradise Island. Sounded like Sinderella's Palace—another name for a seedy pub. It was probably going to be another disaster, but what other choice did she have? She couldn't go back to Ace.

Holding her head as high as possible without running into the strings of dried chilies and garlic, she followed Gigi out of the hut and into the night.

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