Free WastelandRogue by Brenda Williamson Page A

obviously owned. If there were
weapons, they weren’t visible. She remembered the long lizard-skinned coat that
Sevrin had swaddled her in when she lay in the ditch but she didn’t see it. Naturally,
if he treasures it, he’ll keep it with him.
    Rye shook the flask expecting it to be partially empty and
discovered it full. “Of course.” She smiled. “He clearly has a knack for
efficiency and refilled it at the pond.”
    She considered her next steps as she glanced out the window.
The horizon went on forever. She couldn’t leave behind the only means of
traversing the wastelands with as much expediency as the steam-trekker offered.
But how did she make the vehicle go?
    “What do we have here?” a man’s voice said from out of
nowhere.
    In that same instant, he grabbed her around her upper body.
Every muscle in Rye’s body tensed as he pointed a knife to her throat.
    “I wouldn’t move if I were you,” he warned. “I always keep
my blade coated with allium juice.”
    Fear immobilized Rye. Her thoughts shot back to her recent
imprisonment by Hamner. Did he really have allium on it? An unusually strong
scent rose to confirm his threat. How much did he have? Would he make sure she
was dead before he left her? In all her years, she had never run into so many
humans threatening to kill her with the blood poison.
    “What do you want?” she asked, weighing her options.
    “Why, everything you got.” His foul breath reached her nose
and she tried not to cringe.
    “That isn’t much.”
    “You have a vehicle. That’s a good start.”
    “It’s broken.”
    “We’ll just see about that.” He pulled her from the steam-trekker
and forced her down off the track wheel while he remained on it.
    She had already determined her need of the steam-trekker and
a plan formed.
    “I know where you can find a treasure trove of luxuries,”
she said, hoping to keep him from fixing the vehicle and stealing it without
giving her an opportunity to get the better of him.
    He turned his long lanky frame and looked down at her
through tired muddy eyes. His thick brows rose, displaying interest. “Like
what?” he asked.
    “I don’t know, exactly. I didn’t look. It’s back where I got
this vehicle. I saw a lot of government boxes. Could be anything in them.”
    “Why didn’t you look?” He scratched hard at his whiskered
jaw as if he attacked bugs hiding in the filth.
    “And get caught by the owner?” She shook her head. “I’m just
a female, what could I do against him?”
    “You’re lamian , what’s it to you to get into a little
scuffle?” he questioned.
    “Maybe the owner of that stuff wouldn’t be as considerate as
you were by warning me he had allium,” she countered. “I don’t know what kind
of weapons he has.”
    “Where is this stuff you speak of?”
    “I’ll take you there if you can get that vehicle running,”
she told him flat out.
    “How can I trust you?”
    “You’re the one with the allium-dipped blade,” she reminded
him.
    He raised his arm and looked at the knife in his bony hand.
“Oh yeah, right.” Then he shook his head. “Nah, I think I’ll settle for just
this vehicle.” He hopped down and walked around to the other side.
    When his lack of caution gave her room to run or attempt to
overpower him, she thought of Sevrin. She had just put him in danger by what
she told the stranger.
    The man came back around, climbed up on the track and got in
the steam-trekker. He closed the door. She listened to him banging something on
the inside. He finally hit the ignition button. It didn’t start as it had for
her. Every rumble and sputter died with a long groan.
    Finally, the door swung open. “What’s wrong with this hunk
of junk?” he demanded.
    Rye shrugged. The steamy hiss suddenly gave her a clue.
    “You said you’d take me to that stash you found, so you must
know how to fix this machine.” He hopped down and waved his knife at her. “Get
this thing running. I wanna see