Page 1 of Dustwalker

CHAPTER ONE

Lara grasped the edges of the large wooden board and heaved. Pebbles, dirt, and debris tumbled from it as it rose. She shoved it backward. It kicked up a cloud of dust when it landed, which was swiftly carried away by the wind. Crouching, she sifted through the exposed bits of splintered wood, rusted metal, and broken ceramics with her fingers.

“Well, what did you think you’d find?” she asked herself as she sat back on her heels and ran her gaze over the crumbled buildings nearby. The ruins of another world surrounded her, blanketed in a thick layer of dirt.

A drop of sweat trickled between her breasts. Though the cloth wrapped around her head and body protected her skin from the sun, it couldn’t keep out the heat. If it weren’t for the stinging sand carried on the frequent gusts of wind, she would’ve torn the sweat-dampened fabric off.

Lara sighed. “What the hell’s left to find in this trash heap?”

Her sister’s voice replied from the depths of her memory.

There’s always something to find, so let’s make it a game. Whoever finds the best treasure gets a larger portion.

Tabitha had always created little competitions to distract from the truth of their circumstances when they were younger, though no matter the outcome, she’d always given Lara the larger share of food. As an adult, Lara couldn’t ignore reality. Whether she liked it or not, scavenging was the only way to find things the bots deemed valuable,and even if she didn’t trade with the bots directly, this was the only way she’d get anything to eat.

A pang pierced her chest at the thought of Tabitha.

“Damn bots.” Lara swiped at the debris, knocking aside pebbles and dust.

She hadn’t seen her sister in almost two months.

Two months without seeing her hopeful smile, without hearing her voice, without feeling her comforting touch. Tabitha had disappeared, leaving a gaping void in Lara’s life.

Lara picked through the rubble, tossing every bit of metal she found into her bag. Even if they were small and in rough shape, the pieces were worth something, but she couldn’t help her disappointment. She’d hoped for a more significant find after hours of toiling under the relentless sun.

The soft clink of a rock against a piece of ceramic gave her pause. She picked up one of the shards and turned it over. Though faded with time and wear, the blue pattern on it was still visible—part of a flower. Carefully, she brushed away the loose dirt atop the ground, revealing more shattered pieces with the same floral decorations.

Once, each piece had been part of a larger whole. Bowls, plates, and cups, each beautiful in its own right.

What good are they now? They aren’t worth the dust they’re lying in.

Lara was about to toss the shard back, but the pattern caught her eye again. She’d only ever seen flowers in pictures, and even those were difficult to find. She tucked the shard into a fold of cloth around her waist, away from anything that might’ve damaged it further.

More digging yielded two forks and three spoons, all rusted, which she added to the scrap metal in her bag. Moving aside a rotted wood plank, she found a solid piece of glass. She tugged on it. The resistance told her it was much larger than she’d thought.

Using a flat rock, she carefully dug around the glass, her excitement growing as more of it was revealed. Finally, she pulled it free.

She stared down in amazement at the heavy pitcher in her hands. The glass was foggy and scratched, but it was intact except for a small chip near the base. It had a smooth, curved handle, and was decorated with raised images of flowing leaves and flowers.

Wadding the end of her sleeve in her hand, she rubbed off some of the dirt. The glass caught the sun, sparkling like a rainbow, its hues shifting as she turned it back and forth.

It was beautiful.

Standing, she removed a long piece of cloth from her waist and wrapped it around the pitcher before placing the bundle in her bag. She picked the bag up and held it to her chest. One little slip, and the pitcher could shatter. Without a doubt, it was the best thing she’d found in a long time, and Lara was tempted to keep it for herself. But her empty stomach wouldn’t allow that.

She picked her way through the rubble, heading back to the wide stretch of dirt and scrub grass that served as a road. The pitcher would be worth something to Kate and Gary. Between them and their five-year-old daughter, Maggie, they always needed extra water on hand.

Only their generosity had kept Lara from starvation. Because they were a family, they were allowed to purchase more food, and usually had a little to spare for Lara when she had items worth trading. Though she didn’t care for the pity in their eyes when they spoke with her, they’d been kind since Tabitha’s disappearance, and besides…hunger outweighed pride.

She knew Gary received more for her items at the market than he gave her, but he dealt with her fairly. Of course he needed some profit to help support his family. And the loss on Lara’s end was acceptable if it meant she never had to deal with a bot again.

Lara hurried down the road, occasionally glancing at the ruins to either side. A few of the walls were still upright, teetering in the wind, defying time and nature. The buildings here hadn’t been built to last; wood and crumbly plaster couldn’t compare to the brick and concrete structures in the market.

At the three-way intersection, she glanced up at the signpost. Tabitha had shown it to her when they were children. Lara couldn’t read the beat-up sign hanging from it, but she recognized the letters. Long ago, she’d asked her sister what those words meant.

The way home, Tabitha had said.

Lara followed the north road back toward the collection of shacks that the humans of Cheyenne dwelled in.