Page 105 of Dustwalker
“Our peoples have forgotten, but the way it is in Cheyenne isn’t the way it always was. Something changed it, a long time ago…”
“If all those houses are like yours, they have things in them for humans. Toilets and beds and refrigerators to keep food cold. Humans lived in those houses.”
“Yes. And in the clinic, there are dozens of rooms with signs pertaining to human care.”
A strange feeling spread through Lara, an unsettling mix of excitement and dread. She’d been right, but if people once lived in that part of Cheyenne…where had they gone?
Frowning, she briefly glanced at the lights. “What about the man who lived in your attic?”
“He lived in the house. People lived in all those houses. Until…” Staring toward Cheyenne, he shook his head, and even in the failing light, the tensing of his jaw was obvious. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It doesmatter. Until what, Ronin?”
“I will tell you, Lara, but only after there are many miles between us and this place.”
“You can tell me now. I deserve to know, don’t I?”
He turned his head and settled his unblinking gaze on her. The wind filled in his silence for a long time before he spoke. “The journal you found in the attic describes what happened in Cheyenne many years ago. It hints at there having been some terrible war, but the man didn’t write much about that. He recorded the events unfolding in town. Right outside that window.”
Lara squeezed his hand. Somehow, she thought she knew what he was going to tell her, but she wanted to hear it from him.
Ronin stroked his thumb over her skin. “Warlord was there. I don’t think he was calling himself that yet, but he was there. He claimed Cheyenne as his own, forced the humans out of their homes, and started building his wall. He executed anyone who disobeyed…many of them in the park.”
Her stomach twisted on itself. That lush green grass, those tall, vibrant trees, all thrived where people had been murdered?
He met Lara’s gaze. “The humans rallied together to fight for their homes, to fight for whatever was left of their lives. But they couldn’t stand against him. They were slaughtered in the streets. After that, he and his bots went from house to house, killing every human they found.”
“Fuck,” Lara breathed. It was all she could manage to say.
“It was a very long time ago. Clearly, Warlord’s stance toward humans has not much changed.”
“It doesn’t surprise me, not really. Still makes me sick, but everything about him does that. I just…what the hell did those people do to deserve that? What have any of us done?”
“Cheyenne is capable of providing for your every need and allowing you a comfortable life.” Still holding Lara’s hand, Ronin resumed walking, guiding her into step beside him. “But it will not, so long as he is there.”
Ronin’s words about the humans’ futile struggle echoed through her mind. People were still being slaughtered in Cheyenne, one at a time, for Warlord’s amusement. They lived in constant fear and despair, with all the resources vital for survival filtering through Warlord’s hands. And here she was, leaving without a word, getting herself to someplace safer.
Lara frowned, her guilt heavy in her gut. “Well…I hope you have some more pleasant stories to tell, if we’re going to be traveling for a while.”
Seeming to know where her mind dwelled, Ronin lifted her hand and kissed it. “Perhaps we’ll find ourselves in a comfortable place to camp soon enough, so I may suitably distract you.”
She stared at him, shaking her head. “That issucha man thing to say.”
“I can’t tell if I’ve offended you.”
“That’s another man thing.”
“Perhaps I can take some comfort, then, in human males being as clueless about women as bots are.”
“We’re not really that hard to figure out,” she said, grinning despite everything.
His only answer was an incredulous scoff.
Lara knew the events of the last few days would crash down on her as soon as she and Ronin stopped to rest, but for now, she would find contentment in traveling with him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
They walked for hours in the dark, and each step was harder than the last for Lara. The coat helped with the biting wind, but the temperature dropped as the night went on, and the cold seeped through her layers of clothing. She kept her head down to shield her face from the chill and the stinging dust, watching the ground, every inch of which was covered in the same dirt and grass, slowly creeping by.
