Chapter 10 – Hatchling

She opened her eyes.

There were strokes of cloud cover above the swaying leaves. The current was gentle, soothing. Her hands were below the surface. The drift glided past her fingers, tracing every print on each appendage. By that time, her hands were already wrinkled. She thought about lifting them above the water and resting them on her chest, but she liked the feeling.

Being adrift.

She wanted to remain that way for as long as possible. About a quarter of her back was below the surface, her legs were further submerged, and her hair plunged her head back, coasting with the current.

The undulating flow murmured along the river walls. Besides the sound of her own breathing, she could hear the subtle splashing of her legs when she occasionally lifted them above the surface.

Her eyes were in between crimson and silver. The swivels churned and she could see the colors lifting and the shadows covering her periphery. The sun had only begun to rise, illuminating half of the sky and the clouds in stratus.

She was tired. Maybe that's why the waterbed felt so good.

She heard a crackling sound despite her ears being submerged in water. She turned her head sideways to find out that she wasn't the only one floating downstream.

A snake. Its body winded in a fashion that a solid surface couldn't replicate. Back and forth, twitching and rattling, never uncoiled. It went at a similar pace as her. She was unafraid.

Quietly, she stared into its eye. It kept its head facing forward but glared her down, nevertheless. The pupil remained dilated. Her still body floating downstream was uninteresting. Still, the twirls in her eyes kept its gaze locked.

She could feel the color grow deeper. Eventually, both her eyes were fully crimson even though she felt in no way threatened by its presence.

The snake, realizing the enigmatic nature of her eyes, responded by undilating its own – they shrunk to the size of slits, as if they were cut out. The brilliance of her eyes solicited a reaction in kind, as if its calculated vision paled in comparison to the vermillion luminosity coming from her eyes.

She could feel the color retreating. Some seconds after laying eyes on one another, the shadows dissipated and the color returned to silver-beige. The snake's eye dilated above the rolling surface of the gentle water. It wasn't soon after that it shimmied away, leaving her to her own floating devices.

She looked skyward. It was only then, amid the crystal sparkles of the current and the rushing green of the breezy leaves, that she took in the scenery. Even that early in the morning, she couldn't help but notice how bright the colors were.

The snake made her think about those marks on Siam and Alpha's arms. It crawled up in carbon tangles with semblance of stalking a prey. The design was similar to the watersnake with its mouth open, revealing fangs and pierced tongue. She pondered as to why they had the decals. She never liked being left out.

It was their code. It meant something between them. She wanted to have the same meaning. It could be a tribute.

To family.

The innumerable subtleties of floating were more calming than she thought possible. It wasn't soon before long that she closed her eyes thinking that she would rest for a few moments without having to sleep.

She didn't know any better when her siesta lasted longer than she expected.

~ O ~

"How far does this river go?"

"Not too far. We'll get there eventually."

"You should know that girls aren't very nice when they don't get their beauty sleep. Fuck, Siam."

They were walking along the embankment with the gorge just a few feet to their right. The protrusions in the middle of the river made Siam twitch. It felt like they had been following the river far too long. He had a mental image of how far the river went from having traveled upstream to the range so many times and from the size of the formations in the distance. About another two kilometers and the river would conflux and cause a headache worse than the one he already had.

"Look, I don't want to have to search for her, either" Siam recanted. "If I had anything to do with it, we'd be at the cabin sleeping right now."

"You could have made that a reality if you hadn't let that guy stay the night!" she responded, practically yelling.

Siam kept his cool. "It wouldn't have mattered. Rich let his trade get busted, along with his clientele. If they really wanted to get rid of anyone that kept his operation going, they would have tried to kill us, anyway."

"Well, you should've let me kill the bastard if we were going to end up like this. God…"

She was boiling. It was obvious to him that she didn't care too much about looking for Canaan as much she cared about how they ended up in their predicament. Again. He had a feeling that she actually didn't feel so indifferent toward her – some of her behavior proved otherwise. After having observed the both of them in training, traveling, or at the cabin, he felt as if her callous front was only a way to keep the girl as distant as possible. He, on the other hand, was at her disposal. Whatever she felt or wanted to say was disclosed immediately and, more times than not, unscrupulously.

"We're not the kind of people to stay in one place for too long."

Her voice was still frustrated, though Siam did detect a trace of solemnness;

"I just wish that we didn't have to travel all over the place. We had a place to stay and hot damnit, I was enjoying it way too much. If I knew that we were going to end up like this, I wouldn't have started getting used to it. Fuck."

"Then you knew as well as I did that we weren't going to stay there one way or another."

"We didn't have to leave because of some pushover who can't cover his tracks! If we were going to leave, I wanted it to be our decision!..."

A recollection later…

"…in fact, it was your fault! You let that guy stay! Now we're going down some shitty river looking for some girl when we could be home right now!"

The word slipped out. She didn't say anything thereafter, letting a long moment pass. The sound of the leaves brushing against one another, the currents murmuring against the river walls, and the sound of their footsteps prevented the lapse from being completely silent. Siam responded after making his way around a brush of leaves, having contemplated on her loose cannon frustration:

"I didn't know you felt that way."

"People say things they don't mean when they're angry" she dismissed.

"Yeah, and people always say what they mean when they're drunk. Emotions are blurred. If you have a lot of shots to take, it takes a lot out of you not to do so when you're angry. You know how it goes."

"What?"

"'Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.' You can't stop yourself from feeling that way."

…

"You can, however, change how you feel about certain things. Like with Canaan."

…

"She's your comrade. And if you felt like the cabin was home, then she's fa-"

"Don't say it."

She reminded him of someone. She was cold but not hard to break. Another moment passed before he continued:

"When someone travels, it's usually no fault of their own."

"I don't know what that means" she stated, uninterested.

"We're not too far from where Paradise was supposed to be." He smiled a little. "Wanderers should feel at home here."

"We all shouldn't have to pay the consequences when it's someone else's fault, and I'm not even talking about you, anymore…"

"I'm flattered."

"Don't be."

"But we have to clean it up, anyhow. It just so happens that Rich stirred up more trouble than usual and it landed in our laps. Killers are haunted – we can't stay in one place for too long. You know that."

"Where are we gonna go now?" she asked, already anticipating their burdensome travels. "If we have to wander and shit, it better not be through the desert."

"It's not like we can avoid it."

She let out an audible moan and kicked up dust behind him.

"Can't you lie to me and try to make me feel better? Damnit!"

"You haven't known any other climate but you always complain about it."

"No one likes the sweltering heat! It unanimously sucks! "

"Yeah, but most people deal with it. I don't know if you've noticed it in the towns we travel through, but a lot of them had aqueducts built to make bodies of water useful. Civilization started around here because the people made use of the resources available to them. In addition to what was fertile soil, they had rivers, kind of like this one, which served as life-sustaining resources. Workers would build structures to bring channel water from their elevated sources to their crops and towns. Countries and kingdoms tapped into those sources and adapted to the dry climate with what the Earth provided them. Their structures were precursors for more affluent empires to emulate and improve upon. You don't have to think of the elements as some kind of omen. They're no such thing."

"At least those guys back then had places to live…"

He chuckled. "I can't say that sometimes I don't feel cursed to wander…" He sighed. "…but that's just something we have to live with."

She reluctantly resigned to their fate. "Where can we go? We're wanted in every town we've been to and probably those we haven't."

"There's a town east of here. I don't know how long it'll take to get there and if we'll get into any trouble, but it's the best we've got to work with."

"Something's better than nothing, I guess" she muttered, disenchanted.

"From where we are right now, if we cross a certain river, we'll reach the Promised Land. We could always go there" he joked.

"Yeah, but people fight over that place all the time. Fighting follows us like a tail and we always get in the middle of it. We probably wouldn't belong there, either. I guess the Promised Land is cursed too, just like us."

She didn't say anything else while they walked through the rough patches along the river. The sun made its way through the sky, brightening the tint of the shaded morning.

She felt the tugging, tugging, bounce, bounce. After having experienced it a few times, she knew she was on his back.

She opened her eyes and saw the ground swaying in the same manner as his stride. She always found it odd how a guy that rugged could walk in such an undisruptive fashion. Her arms around his neck, she could feel the perspiration on his shoulders. When she turned her head, she saw Alpha walking next to him, though her stride wasn't as elegant as his.

Siam tilted his head back a little when he realized she was awake. "Look who decided to wake up."

"Took you long enough" Alpha remarked.

"How long was I out?" she babbled, her voice still groggy.

"A few hours. It took us a while to find you and we've been walking for an hour and a half. You got more sleep than we did."

"Where are we?"

The area they were in was barren. It was apparent that they were no longer in the mountainous terrain where their scenic getaway had been. They had returned to the uninviting terrain of the surrounding vicinity. She would have liked to have woken up floating on the river instead of baking in the desert.

The sun glimmered brightly. The clouds were able to provide some form of shade, certainly not enough to hinder the ever increasing temperature. The ground was brown and flat for kilometers on end.

"Nowhere" Alpha replied discouragingly.

"We're a few hours away from the next town up ahead. We'll get there eventually."

"I wonder if we'll even make it there" Alpha suggested gloomily.

"You're not injured anywhere, Canaan?"

Besides the pain of the gunshot wound still lingering, she didn't feel anything else.

"No. I'm O.K."

She patted his shoulder gently. He had a feeling that meant for him to stop and let her down. He bent to one knee and she hopped off. They continued walking in the direction they had been going.

"What the hell made you decide to jump in the river?" Alpha demanded.

"Um…there was this guy that put a bomb or two near the cabin. It was the only thing I could do before they exploded."

"We found you washed up on the bank at the river's bend. You did have some burns on your arms and back – most of them were washed out. When we get to the next town, we'll attend to them more properly and Alphard's if she has any."

"If we get to the next town" Alpha mentioned, continuing her pessimistic streak.

"How far away are we?"

Siam shrugged.

"We're going out there on a whim and we'll probably die that way, too. Fantastic."

"How many magazines do you have left?" Siam asked.

Alpha went through the strap on her leg and noticed one last magazine for her Five-Seven. Canaan went through her inventory and had two magazines left.

"I got one left" Alpha noted, closing the flap.

"I have two" Canaan remarked.

He checked his own weapon, pulling back on the slide. The magazine inside was what remained of his munition.

"We're in no position to make bad impressions. We have to use what we have left sparingly, if at all."

"We're not dealing with any of your clients for a long time" Alpha decided on their behalf. "At least we can do ourselves that favor."

"None of them know where we are and we can't get in contact with them. If it stays that way, we won't have to worry about that."

"For some reason, I don't believe you."

He smiled. "Nothing's wrong with a little skepticism."

"Why's that?" Canaan asked inquisitively.

"A bit of distrust is enough in and of itself to maintain caution or, in some cases, distance. Otherwise, deception has a tendency to creep up on trust. That kind of vulnerability has no place, especially with what we do."

"Yeah, but don't you think that being so distrustful can be tiring?" Canaan implied. "I mean, I kinda find it hard to believe that people can keep their guards up all the time."

"I suppose."

"Do you feel that way about us?" Canaan tried quietly.

"I feel that way about you" Alpha let out before Siam responded.

Canaan rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"

"It's hard to trust a rookie is all."

"Yeah, maybe that'll change when I beat you in a fair fight!"

Alpha laughed condescendingly. "That'll be the day."

"When it comes to combat," Siam interjected, "a certain amount of trust is inherit. Not so much in another person or party, but in the fact that together you'll get through whatever is happening. If that's not there, then there's no reason for two people to fight together."

Alpha covered her mouth with both her hands and teased: "Tell that to the rookie brat." Immediately, she put her hands behind her head and stared in the opposite direction.

"What'd you say?!" Canaan demanded, frustrated.

Alpha looked at her with innocent apprehension. "What? I didn't say anything!"

"You always have something mean to say!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"As long as there's some camaraderie," Siam started while Alpha teased Cannan, "trust has a tendency to sneak in, regardless."

"What'd you say, Siam?" Alpha asked, having missed what he said while messing with Canaan.

He decided to play along. "Oh, nothing. Don't worry about it."

Canaan covered her mouth with both her hands and emulated: "Bully got shut down!"

"Hey, you little punk! I heard that!" Alpha shouted.

Alphard went over and started pestering her. Canaan shielded herself as best as she could, smiling all the while. She responded by putting her hand behind Alpha's head and pulling out the pin which wrapped her hair in a bun. Her hair fell down and Canaan immediately took off in a carefree sprint.

"Hey! Hey!"

Alphard started chasing her. They ran through the desert cheerfully, one evading, the other pursuing, both forgetting about the heat. Siam watched them run around in circles with a smile on his face. It was a welcome change to see them interact in a friendly way instead of Alphard being hostile toward her or the two fighting one another haphazardly. He saw Alphard wrestle her to the ground. Canaan resisted emphatically until she got away and set off in another jovial streak. Their voices filled the air with laughter, lifting the heaviness of the battering heat.

It was nice to see them acting their age for once.

He continued walking toward a desolate horizon and let them roughhouse until Canaan gave in or Alphard gave out.

~ O ~

"Hey, do you see something?"

"Not really" Alpha negated. They were drained of their vitality. Alpha had her green jacket swung wearily over her head, Siam had his light scarf wrapped over his head, and Canaan had removed her beige jacket and wrapped it around her waist. The absurdity of the heat was taking a toll on them and would continue to do so – Siam thought the town was another three or four hours away.

"Siam, you don't see it?"

He covered his eyes with his hand and looked as far as he could. He thought he saw a dot, maybe, but he wasn't even sure about that.

"What do you see?"

"I don't know, but I can see it!" Canaan exclaimed.

"Either the heat is messing with our vision or you're going crazy. I'm leaning toward the latter."

"I'm sure of it! There's gotta be a building or something there!"

Canaan started running.

"Canaan!" Siam called. "Damnit…off she goes…"

The closer she got to the figure, the more distinguished the shape became. Eventually, she saw what looked like a small shack, then a sizable structure, and eventually, a large establishment. She came to a panting stop in front of a dilapidated building with too many signs in the windows. Some of the grey slabs constituting the base were coming undone or had completely fallen apart, leaving gaping holes. It had been painted and repainted – various shades of white, grey, and beige covered the exterior, though in no observable pattern. Smoke came from an outlet on the roof.

A few meters from the building was an old well made from brick slabs. It was beyond her how a place that dry could possibly have a water source. There were two old trucks parked near a dumpster a few steps away to her right.

She was relieved to know that they weren't the only ones in the desert.

She climbed the brick steps onto the porch and noticed a lit depiction of a beer glass with suds coming out the top. Besides the stack of old newspapers adjacent the entrance, the porch was devoid of interest.

She opened the door and peeked inside. There were light brown tiles on the floor with white accents going the span of their perimeters. There was a second floor accessible by stairs near the far wall. The stair steps and railing had the same accentual design on their surfaces. There were around seven tables in the lobby space, their feet having been cemented into the floor. In front of her was a repolished bar that almost went from one wall to another. A row of small, black stools sat in front of the bar.

Constituting the back wall behind the bar top was a sizable étagère where bottles of champagne, spirits, beer, and wine, some domestic, most foreign, lined the shelves with a subtle, white ambiance coming from small modules on each level of the wall. A ceiling fan rotated slowly above – the single bulb beneath it flashed occasionally, obviously needing replacement.

She went to the bar and took a seat, observing her surroundings closely. Her eye was caught by a bottle of champagne. It was white and had vertical orange lines to contrast the translucent exterior. There was a black snake slithering up the center.

Since there was nobody in sight, she hopped the counter, took the bottle, and began examining it. The design was very…appealing. Whatever was inside had to taste good.

Before she could pop the top, a door at the end of the bar opened up and a middle-aged man with whitening hair emerged. Startled, she jolted and began fumbling at the bottle in her hand. She nearly dropped it but caught it before it smashed apart.

The man took a look at her and the bottle in her hands. A subtle smile crept along the side of his lightly wrinkled face. He took a few steps toward her in his polished slacks, the fabric of his dress pants rubbing slightly and making a wistful sound. He placed the towel with which he was rubbing his hands at the end of the bar and took another with which to scrub the bar top.

He looked into her eyes before he started:

"You have good taste."

His voice was inviting. Although he had the right to kick her out for more reasons than one, he didn't seem to mind having her. She immediately felt at ease.

"It's only natural since I'm a pro!" she inflated cheerfully.

"Is that right? What made you go for that one?" he asked as he scrubbed the bar top in circles.

She panicked a little. Quickly, she looked at the description on the back and summarized aptly:

"'Royal design for a noble appetite – dive into the sting of contagious venom.' See? Obviously, I can hold my liquor!"

"That's champagne." He corrected.

"Oh. Yeah, I knew that!"

"That one comes from a long tradition of breweries in this region. Some of them have endured through tough times to make due and some of them have had a noticeable decline in quality. Instability can have an effect on alcohol too, and I know that better than most. But that one you're holding, that's the real deal."

"How do you know that a certain one is not as good as another or not as good as it used to be?"

"I thought you were a pro."

"I am! I just…I just wanted to know how you think about it is all!"

He stopped wiping the table and took a seat on the stool. He rested the cuffs of his shirt on the table and leaned forward, keeping her attention.

"There's ways to tell. Needless to say, vineyards and breweries go for different tastes. Along those lines, no one glass will be the same as another and, of course, to each their own. There are some telltale signs that distinguish the quality of one from another."

He put three fingers up and pointed at the glasses behind her. She took three of them and set them on the bar. He then pointed at two other bottles of champagne which she retrieved and put on the table.

He took the first bottle, which was black and grey, and poured a cup. He did the same with the other, which sported a mustang as its logo, and the one she had chosen. His hand around the bottom of the first glass, he started whimsically:

"All of these come from the same family brewery and have the same alcohol content. This first one goes for a sweet taste that lasts long after the glass is downed. A lot of guys don't think that alcohol should be flavorful because it overshadows the alcohol, which most are after when they drink. It still has a strong taste and, suitably enough, doesn't fail to hit that sweet spot. Go ahead and take a sip."

She looked at him questionably.

"You won't get a buzz, I promise you."

She tipped the glass toward her mouth and shuttered when the gentle taste flooded her taste buds, equally surprised by the sudden blitz of the alcoholic savor.

"You like it?" he asked.

"It tastes really good, but I don't know how else to describe it."

He moved on to the mustang logo. "Well, this one is just the opposite. The focus here was more on packing a punch instead of catering to a certain taste. The taste is reduced to being one-dimensional, basically straight-forward. Try that one."

She took a sip and was aghast at the overwhelming alcoholic hit with the invariable taste. It almost tasted like there was nothing else but the distinguished brew. The aftertaste made her stick out her tongue and breathe out in an attempt to be rid of the lingering, flavorless punch.

"I don't like that one at all!" Canaan shouted. The taste deepened her cheeks to a bright red.

"That one has a strong taste for champagne, something that would usually be found in a liquor or beer. It gets the job done considering it has the same amount of alcohol as the last one."

"That one is too strong for anyone to drink!"

"Guess you wouldn't be able to handle anything stronger, at least in regard to content."

"I wouldn't say that…" she argued.

"The one you picked is a combination of those two – it has the intentionality for savor like the first and the strength from the second. But then, it might be able to one-up the last two in another category – feeling. Not so much in the drunken sense, but specifically in the physical sense. It has a smooth texture, a distinct flow, and maintains that consistency with each glass. Among these three champagnes, this one has the qualities of the other two and more. Give it a try."

She took a sip and immediately felt the soft delicacy, an element standing out between the three. It rested on her tongue and seemed to slowly fade away. It felt like a soft breeze and had a cool taste in addition to the alcoholic content. The savor was calculated, as if methodical, going from gentle, to strong, and finally ending with a prolonged taste that left her wanting more.

"Wow…I really like this one!"

"Probably one of the best I have here. Still, people have their preferences. It's very well possible that some may not like this one at all and there's nothing wrong with that. Everyone has their wine. If not, then it's no grapes' fault."

"Which one do you like?"

He let out a small sigh before answering. "Well…personally, I prefer a good glass of whiskey. No mixes or cocktails or any gimmicks like that. But the golden bottle has just what I'm looking for during a long night in this lonely desert."

He took the three bottles of champagne and capped them. He stood and went behind the counter to attend to the rest of the bar. He took Canaan by the waist and gave her a lift onto the bar. She stepped down onto a stool and took a seat, turning around to face the bar. He resumed scrubbing the bar top while they conversed quietly.

"You alone, little lady?" he asked, putting the champagne bottles where they were before.

"No, I have two other people with me and they should be here any moment now. I ran here and they're still walking." She swung her legs back and forth, totally at ease.

"Are they armed, too?" he asked observantly.

"Um…" She didn't know how to respond to the unexpected question.

"I see a lot of customers come in here armed and I don't blame them. This is not exactly the safest region, so guys will come in here strapped, commando and all. Militia, too. I just wouldn't expect a little lady who can hold her liquor to have a weapon on her as well."

She held her hands around the bottom of the glass of champagne and thought about what to say. The swishing of the ceiling fan, along with the occasional creak, permeated the air, making the isolated cabin feel even more so.

"We get into trouble a lot" she confided. "So we kinda have to. What do you do when you get a lot of guys with guns come in here?"

"I don't do anything different. I just give them what they want. The alcohol does the rest."

"I can believe that."

"The people you're with – are they family?"

"Um…I gu-"

The door behind them opened. Siam and Alpha came in, both of them looking totally beat down.

"Took you guys long enough" Canaan announced.

"We're just not as crazy as you to run through the blazing desert."

"You two with her?" the bartender asked.

"I hate to say yes" Alpha stated apathetically. She took the scarf off her head and approached the bar lazily. She was obviously booked. Siam took his time, analyzing his surroundings cautiously. He came forward and sat one seat away from Alpha, finally able to rest.

"This little lady here has been keeping me company. You guys came from the nearby town?"

Siam lied. "Yeah."

"What can I get for you?" the bartender asked Siam.

"Just water."

"And you, little lady?" he asked Alpha.

"Whiskey on the rocks."

Siam looked at her suspiciously.

"I'm kidding!"

"You can get whatever you want. Canaan looks like she's already enjoying herself, anyway."

Alpha looked at the glass of champagne still in Canaan's hands.

"Aren't you a little young?" Alpha scolded.

She shrugged.

The tender jumped in: "She's a responsible little one, I can tell. Believe me, it's a mindset. Knowing when enough is enough and taking it easy is all that matters. Besides, she's already a bit mature for her age." He winked at her. She smiled.

"Whatever. Some soda would be nice. No ice."

The tender poured Siam some water and Alpha a dark soda. She drunk her first glass down while Siam sipped at a meager pace.

"Where are you guys trying to go?" the tender asked, making small talk.

"The town east of here."

"Is that just your destination or a stop?"

"We're trying to get to China since we've sort of been 'displaced.' I know some guys there that can help out. But getting there is probably the most problematic thing we'll have to deal with."

"I can imagine. Border security won't let a fly slip through the pass. There's not much you can do about that."

"I realize."

"We can always just wander around endlessly until something special happens" Alpha suggested sarcastically.

"If that's your thing, I wouldn't suggest otherwise. But militia activity around these parts has increased quite a lot. I've been getting a lot of militia coming in here. Most of them were bored, some of them were on patrol, others said they were looking for some bandits, none of them were doing their job."

He poured Alpha some more soda, which she drunk down immediately. He continued:

"There's a small outpost village just a little ways southeast of here. You guys could always stop by there before going to the bigger town afterward."

"How strong's the militia presence in the next town?" Siam inquired, wanting to get an idea of what to expect.

"They're crawling with militia. A lot more so in the recent week than I'm used to. If you guys have a bad history, I recommend you steer far away from there..."

He stopped wiping a glass and set it down, pausing momentarily, and continuing a few seconds later;

"…then again, there is a shipment going through there…"

"A shipment?" Alpha asked curiously.

"Yeah. The militia have been in cahoots with some Chinese syndicates, so they've been getting weapons and supplies from them in exchange for services rendered, connections, or just monetary incentives. Supposedly, there's a convoy that's going to be coming through the town you guys are trying to get to. If you could find your way on, you wouldn't have to worry about security when they make their way back to China."

Alpha and Siam looked at each other. That sounded like a plan.

"Thanks for the tip" Siam said.

"No biggie. I just try to help out where I can. Plus, if you really are trying to help your daughters out, I can relate."

Alpha nearly flipped out when she heard the word come out of his mouth.

"Daughters!?" she exclaimed.

"They're not mine" Siam dismissed.

"Oh. My apologies. You guys seem pretty close, but my presumptions deceive me, it seems. Maybe I need to get out this alcohol business."

Alpha started blushing at the idea of being related to them.

"Don't let that old age make you senile" she clamored harshly.

The tender took it lightly and smiled. "It catches up to us all eventually."

"Some more soda would be nice" Alpha ordered, still blushing.

He obliged and poured her some more soda. "Not to mention that I couldn't help but notice that tattoo on both your arms. It's really telling, you know?"

"It's just a testament. A symbol."

"I see. Some families do have crests to delineate members and distinguish them. If that's the case, never mind me."

Canaan felt left out. She was the only one that didn't have one.

"When's that shipment coming in?" Siam asked.

"I believe…tomorrow evening."

"Then we better get going."

He turned around and stood up, stretching his body tiredly. Alpha was irate. She had just gotten comfortable and Siam was already on the move.

"Come on!" she complained. "We just got here and we're leaving already?! Take it easy!"

"What's the rush?" the tender questioned. "It is pretty far from here, but nothing to fret over."

"Yes! Listen to the old man!"

"It's much further when you have to walk" Siam stated. The tender understood.

"If you guys need a ride, take the truck out back." He pulled out a set of keys and tossed it toward Siam, which he caught in turn.

"You don't mind?" Canaan asked.

"Not at all. I have some family that lives over there, so as long as you park it near the south gate, they'll know where to find it."

"Thanks a lot" Siam affirmed.

He nodded his head. "I gotta look out for my little drinking buddy, here!"

Canaan and the tender bumped fists. She had grown quite the liking for him.

"Canaan, Alphard, let's get going."

Canaan stood up jubilantly while Alpha reluctantly inched her way off her stool and dragged herself to the door. They exited, leaving the door open behind them. Canaan turned and gave the tender a wave goodbye. He responded with a small wave of his own. She closed the door after stepping out onto the porch. The clouds in the sky had cleared away, revealing the bright, blue color.

Alpha was about to take a seat in the passenger seat up front before Siam called to her;

"Alphard."

"I'm not sitting in the back" she forewarned.

"I never said you would. I thought you would want to drive, instead."

He tossed her the keys. She caught them, surprised. After letting it sink, she snickered and hopped into the driver's seat. Canaan jumped in the back seat and closed the door just before she started the truck. It was in better condition than anything they'd been in before. Besides the whiskey scent, everything in the truck was in order: clean, spacious, and sturdy. Alpha departed the truck in the direction they had been going in before, easing her way into a steady pace and getting used to the feel.

When they were going at a smooth pace, Canaan placed her right hand underneath her chin and took in the passing scenery. The desert always looked so much more appealing in motion then it would in any other case.

"Can I ask a question?" Canaan asked, ironically.

"No" Alpha stated, her one hand lazily at the bottom of the wheel. There wasn't much in the desert for her to focus on. She kept her foot halfway down on the pedal and let the truck do the rest. It was pretty boring, but she was enjoying the tranquil ride.

"You don't need permission if you want to know about something" Siam responded.

"O.K…um…why do you guys have those snake tattoos on your arms?"

"Alphard wanted them."

"Really?"

"She asked for them and she came up with the idea for the decal. It was after she killed her fifth target about a year ago. She brought it up to me and I decided not to say no for one reason or another."

"Why'd you decide to get a snake, Alpha?

"I just thought that it was fitting. Snakes wander. They hunt. They're misunderstood."

"So, it was just as a symbol?"

"It means more than that."

"How?"

"In my family, I was taught that snakes ward off death."

"So it's your way of staying alive, then?"

"It might as well be since some crap always seems to be happening to us."

"You gave it meaning and it seems to be working" Siam remarked.

"Why do you say that?"

"Snakes have been understood and, like Alphard said, misunderstood to have a gambit of meanings. In ancient China, snakes were posited to be honorable creatures, maybe even godly. Snakes were worshipped by the ancient Semites as being deities of renewal. Gods would wear snake ornaments or mimic their cunning qualities to be further venerated or get what they want. Norse, Greek, Egyptian, the idolatry continues and spans eastern and western cultures, ancient and modern."

"That makes them sound like good guys" Canaan stated. "I don't think everyone feels that way about them."

"The reverse of the medal. Some stories position snakes as obvious villains, serving as symbols of deception and malice. The Unchegila is a creature in Native-American Lakota lore said to have been the culprit for many deaths. It had no real shape and would do away with its victims mysteriously."

"That sounds more like us" Alpha declared.

"Maybe. But they're probably just ways for imagination to understand figments of our surroundings we can't explain ourselves. There's a snake in outer space if you trace the stars out right. Power lies in belief because in some sense, real or not, it must be true. I'd like to believe that the only reason we're not dead is because we made it that way. Still, it's nice to know that maybe this charm on our arms is doing the same."

"Yeah, but not everybody thinks of things the same way" Canaan argued. "Don't you think snakes have some deeper meaning besides the ones people give them?"

"Sure" Alpha agreed carelessly. "If that's what you believe."

"Despite the contrasting ideas snakes have garnered throughout time," Siam continued, "they still have qualities about them that make them excel as hunters and surviving. That's probably what Alphard was after."

"Something like that" Alpha agreed absentmindedly.

"Why'd you ask?" Siam questioned.

"No reason" Canaan deferred.

"I doubt that" Alpha mentioned.

Alpha noticed they were coming up on a small collection of buildings in the distance. It was large enough to probably be a village but nothing more. Alpha eased on the gas and cruised through the brittle ground until they arrived at the center street splitting the village in two. She slowed until they reached a curb, eventually stopping.

The outpost was desolate. They could hear voices coming through the circular windows from the buildings next to them. There were some people walking the sidewalks, preventing the village from being totally destitute. Small rubble lined the walkways, though some palms did stand tall above the much shorter buildings. It was a scenic, lonely place. Interestingly enough, it had more shops than previous ones they'd been to. It was a waypoint before the next town, probably the second to last before the desert stretched for kilometers on end indefinitely.

Alpha hopped out the truck and sat on the hood. Canaan got out and looked around curiously and habitually. She noticed a small old man sitting against the wall of a building in front of them. Before she could say anything of the mysterious man, Alpha spoke:

"I can go and pick up some supplies since we don't have anything else except our weapons."

Siam reached in his pocket and pulled out a small bundle of money. That was all he had.

"That's all we have left!?" she exclaimed vibrantly. "Wait, so the rest of the money that we worked for was in the cab…"

He gave her a few bills to buy supplies with. Her face was dumbfounded. Eventually, she resigned to their situation, quelling her anger almost uncharacteristically. She didn't see the point. Instead, she let her grievances be known in a passive, mellow fashion, her emotions compelling her still;

"Well…I suppose homeless people don't have much money, either….it only makes sense…damnit…can't get enough….won't ever get enough…fuck…somebody give me a break, please…"

She turned around and dragged herself toward the store across the street to pick up provisions. Canaan and Siam could practically see the storm cloud hovering over her head. She kicked at the dust wearily, complaining to herself the whole way there.

"She'll get over it" Siam stated.

"Siam!" Canaan called, "Do you see that guy up there?"

He turned in the direction she was pointing. The little old man had small glasses and a checkered turban wrapped around his head. He sat with his legs crossed near the entrance of what looked like his shop. He was using small instruments to draw figures on a thick sheet of paper. It looked like he was practicing his craft, which he was quite good at. He drew the shapes seamlessly, decorating them with tints and pastels of various colors to create wondrous pieces.

Canaan ran toward the old man.

"Canaan!" Siam called. He couldn't quite hear what she was saying to the old man while making his way toward them, but knew what she was asking for. He sighed. When he was a few paces from them, he lifted his arm vertically, allowing the old man to see.

The old man nodded. Canaan was ecstatic.

~ O ~

"Ow!"

He had been hearing her complain for the past half hour. At that juncture, it had become annoying. The setting sun provided him with enough light to see the words of the book in front of him. The subject matter was interesting, but he couldn't quite focus with her griping every time the old man made contact.

"Oh, toughen up" Siam ordered, a complaint in and of itself. "You may still be a rookie, but how many battlefields have you been on already?"

"If it hurts, I can't help it, can I?" she questioned irritably.

"Why are you putting yourself through this?" he asked, turning his head in her direction.

She looked at him, somewhat surprised, obviously not expecting the question. She responded sheepishly, enduring the pain all the while:

"It's a testament to my family…"

The warm fumes from the cigarette fluttered above him, clouding the parlor temporarily before being aerated. He didn't want to haze the old man's parlor too much, so he got up, and stepped out.

Standing next to the entrance, he inhaled and took a moment. He breathed out calmly, the fumes shrouding the air in front of him before fading away. The mountainous formation in front of him towered over the much smaller buildings, nearly scraping the sky above. The sun sat in between the two peaks and made dusk quite alluring.

He couldn't help but lose himself in the beauty.

"Canaan…"

"What about her?" Alphard said, walking toward him with bags of supplies in her hands.

"Don't worry about it."

"Whatever. I got a burn kit so you can take care of her when you get the chance, and a bunch of other stuff, somehow. Where is she, anyway?"

"She's taking care of family business."

Alphard had a confused look on her face. Her indifference was evident, and she let it be known;

"I don't know what that means and I don't care. There's no militia out here, so I guess we're sleeping in the truck. Driver's seat: dibs." She turned around and made her way back to the sturdy truck.

He followed her, putting out his exhausted cigarette beneath his boot. His hands in his jacket pockets, they walked back toward the truck. He could still hear her complaining, though it wasn't as bothersome.

He smiled instead.