Heaven from Hell
II
Graham had not lied ; the so-called Daniel appeared in her tent a few minutes after. He was kinda young man, compared to Joshua Graham. A thick beard, a hat on his head, he looked like the plain Wastelander of the Mojave – except that it wasn't the Mojave. He tilted his head when he realized she was looking at him. A polite man. Way more the kind of man I would expect from a Mormon. She didn't say anything, staring at him, waiting for him to say whatever he was there to say.
"My name is Daniel," he greeted her. "Joshua asked me to come and see if you were all right. The Dead Horses told me details about the attack on your caravan. A stranger's sympathy might not count for much, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry.
- Don't be. I didn't know them.
- Don't say that to the Sorrows, then. They will mourn them, as they mourn everyone. They still have sensitive souls. Innocent, if there is such a thing after what happened to most of the White Legs.
- Well apparently what happened was not enough since they attacked me."
He frowned. He really is a man of God, then. He wasn't like Graham. Graham would've agreed with her, or he would have just ignored her because he would've known she was right. He, on the other hand, seemed to genuinely care about this tribe, the Sorrows. Innocent, she repeated. Weak. There wasn't such a thing in the Wastelands, even those Wastelands. The only innocent people she'd met were either children or dead people. Crushed by the Legion or any other forces.
She shrugged and stood up in front of him. He wasn't as tall as Graham was. Probably wasn't as lethal as well. Saner than him. Not complicated. She wasn't even sure the two men really appreciated each other – they were two survivors of the same town, no more, no less. She even wondered if he knew who Graham really was.
"It's a matter of months for them to be so scattered around Utah that they would not represent a threat anymore," Daniel finally retorted. "I'm sincerely sorry you had to meet them.
- Not as much as I am. Graham told me you would bring me my weapons.
- I have them, yes. But…"
That time, she frowned. But what ? Don't tempt me, I'm this close to shooting you. He was holding a fabric bag in his left hand and looked at her with suspicious eyes. Oh. She understood. He was so caring of his goddamn savages that he was scared she might blow a fuse and kill them all. Not that she hadn't considered the idea, but it would be useless and way too dangerous. She needed them to escape this canyon anyway.
"But you're scared of me," she sighed. "What did Graham say to you ? That I was dangerous ? Unpredictable ?
- He didn't say anything about you. But you are heavily armed. Any of these could…" He stopped. "I just want to be sure I'm not making a mistake trusting you.
- I won't say I'm as caring and kind as you are, Daniel, but I'm not planning a mass-murder any soon. I just want to be sure my weapons are in a good shape.
- They are. There, this is all we found on you."
He handed her the bag. She took it and emptied it on the bed. Her machete was there, as well as her sniper rifle and her shotgun. Maria was still in its holster with her switchblade. She found her stiletto as the bottom of the bad. She couldn't help but smile at its sight. Everything was there. And as Graham said, not damaged. She nodded and raised her eyes to meet Daniel's. He still looked unsure of what he was doing.
"Thank you.
- You're welcome," he said, a bit more relaxed. "Joshua told me you wanted to go east. Our scouts will be back in two or three days, I'll ask them to lead you out of Zion but I'm afraid they won't be able to help you go any further. They've never been out of the canyon.
- It's okay. I don't want to be accompanied anyway, I just want to get out of here.
- I guess."
He lowered his eyes and shook his head before heading out of her tent. What the..? She blinked and put her weapons back in the bag, except her stiletto she hid on her ankle. She laid down on her bed and tried to give sense to whatever just happened. The Daniel guy was weird – to be honest it was the first real Mormon she'd ever met and now she understood better why New-Canaan had been destroyed this easily by those White Legs.
When she closed her eyes, she started to remember what had led to such a complete an utter destruction. She was still young during the First Battle of Hoover Dam and she didn't participate in the disaster, but now she remembered of furious Caesar was when he realized Malpais Legate had driven his forces into a trap… And lost the dam. It took him days before giving the order to coat him in pitch, light him on fire and throw him in the Grand Canyon. And of course, she'd been there to watch the execution. But she couldn't… She couldn't remember Graham's face, though she'd seen him frequently during her childhood. It was blurry. She only saw his screaming face covered with pitch, the way he was staring at Caesar. The fire in his eyes, even brighter than the fire around him. And his screams, his never-ending screams that haunted the Canyon for so long.
But his body was never found and rumours had started to spread. And Caesar couldn't allow that. When he heard that the New-Canaanites had sheltered him, he ordered the White Legs to destroy them, to burn them to the ground and salt their lands. But then again, his body was never found and Caesar decided that Joshua Graham had simply never existed. Even if Vulpes and her had tried to find him, they were doing it secretly. The Frumentarii that had died in the attempt of finding him… They were forgotten. Never existed either. And then Lanius had been appointed as the new Legate and things had gone back the way they were before. Except that no one could forget the screams of the Burned Man, down the Canyon.
She didn't realized she had fallen half-asleep while remembering these days and when she woke up, the lingering silence of the cave had been replaced with voices, laughs and agitation. She rubbed her eyes, yawned and went outside her tent. People were sitting around a campfire, eating and talking in what sounded like a mix of English and their weird language. She stopped there, staring at the group of tribal men and women. Some of them spotted her, pointed their fingers at her, even gestured her to come. She shook her head and gulped. She had no idea what she was supposed to do, until Graham stood up and walked toward her. She tensed immediately, fucking Legion reflexes.
"Why don't you join us ? We're eating and I reckon you haven't eaten in days.
- I'm not sure it's a good idea.
- On the contrary. I'm sure it is. Come."
He gestured her to follow him and, for some reason, she did. He sat on a tree trunk. She sat next to him and weakly smiled to all of the people around her. They weren't exactly scary or anything. She just felt so out of place that she didn't know what to do, what to say. She accepted the meat they offered her and ate in silence. Graham wasn't wrong ; she was hungry. She almost devoured what she'd been given and tried to understand what was going on around.
Graham was silent too, looking with an uncanny calm at the tribe. She stared at him for a few seconds. She wondered what was going on in his head. Did those people were a way to repay what he'd done with the Legion ? Were they supposed to be band aids to his conscience ? She wasn't sure it would be so easy to repent from the crimes he had committed while he was Legate, but he surely looked appeased. It's only appearances. I still see the fire in his eyes. It was a bit softened, a bit tamed, but it was still there.
"Hello," a man greeted her. She almost jumped in surprise and turned her head toward him. He had brown skin, dark blue eyes and tattoos all over his face. It's like a trend, I guess ? "I'm Follow-Chalk. And you are the woman we have found, yes ?
- Yes… Yes, it's me. You speak English ?
- White Legs don't leave survivors often, you're some kind of lucky I can tell you !" He smiled. He sounds so… Kind. "And yes, I do. I learnt it with Joshua."
He suddenly looked respectful and lowered his eyes when the said Joshua looked him. She shivered. She'd seen this kind of looks all her life ; it was the exact same look every members of the Legion, or at least the most submissive, had when they saw Caesar. And of course Graham is not a new Caesar, she thought.
But he went back at her and the joyful light in his eyes came back. She couldn't help but smile too – he was young, so young. He's not younger than me. But still he looked so… What had Daniel called his Sorrows again ? Innocent. Maybe innocence still existed in this world, then.
"What is your name ?
- I… I have no name.
- What do you mean ?" He seemed confused. "Didn't your parent give you one ? Or your tribe ?
- I don't come from a tribe and… I don't remember the name my parents gave me.
- It's very sad," he said, a bit gloomily. "It's true you don't look like any other woman I've seen before. You look a bit like Joshua, before he came back with… You know."
His tone had lowered, as if he didn't want him to hear. He probably did but he didn't say anything. She nodded. If only you knew. Follow-Chalk was going to say something when one of his fellow tribal called him. He apologized and left her for a couple of minutes. Enough for her to realize that she was the actual centre of attention of the whole tribe. Graham was speaking in their weird tongue with another group, he wasn't really acknowledging her. The others, on the other hand…
It felt weird, really. Most of the time, people were scared of her cold looks, her cold gaze and her harsh attitude. They seemed curious, still suspicious, but mainly curious… Probably because Graham himself took me there. Even in the Legion, people never dared to look at her this frankly. She was Caesar's daughter and even so, she was the head of the Frumentarii. Even when she was only the Courier Six, Boone never looked at her like that. He never really looked at him anyway.
"I'm sorry, they were wondering if you were feeling right," the boy told her when he returned. "You look really pale.
- I always look pale. But… Thank you. For caring.
- They said your skin looks ashy." He stopped and, all of a sudden, his face illuminated. "This could be your name ! Ash-Skin !
- I… I don't…
- This is an excellent idea," Graham said. "Ash-Skin. That suits you."
Said the Burned Man. She shook her head, trying to get him to help her but he didn't say anything else. Follow-Chalk turned to his fellows and apparently announced them how the new comer was called. Ash-Skin. Is that a fucking joke ? She'd burned so much places to the ground, burned so many people on crosses, so many corpses. She couldn't be called Ash. It didn't… It made too much sense.
But they all seemed so happy with her new name that she didn't say anything. She faked a smile and waited for them to go to their tents to sleep. It didn't take as long as she feared – a good ten minutes. She was staring at the dying fire in front of her when silence gradually came back in the cave. Graham was gone, she was alone with those little flames. Ash-Skin. She'd borne so many names, it was just one more. It didn't matter if they wanted to call her like that. In a week she would be long gone, they would forget her. She would forget them. Soon enough.
"Not so comfortable anymore, are we ?" Graham said while sitting in front of her, at the other side of the fire. "They didn't mean harm.
- I know. I don't care what they call me.
- I'm not sure you do. Given your personal history…
- You don't know shit about my personal history. Don't lecture me."
She looked daggers at him. He didn't react – not visibly, anyway. He poked the fire and kept quiet for a moment. Even his hands were bandaged. How much damage have the flames do to him, back in the Canyon ? She couldn't even imagine it. It must hurt still. It couldn't be any other way. When she realized he saw her staring, she turned her eyes away and ran a hand across her face. She was still tired. Not physically, mentally. But she wasn't sure she could be mentally rested.
"You're so different from the girl I remember," he continued, still poking the fire. "You look the same, you speak the same but you're changed.
- Why of course I'm changed, it's been five fucking years since they tossed you into the Grand Canyon. I was fifteen, back then.
- But you were already so much like Caesar." He shook his head. "And somehow you still are, but it was… Overwhelming. You spoke like him. Men bowed before you the same way they bowed before him.
- Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I was his daughter ?
- You still are."
Technically, yes. But Caesar was dead and Iulia had gone missing. She'd told no one. She'd lit her tent in fire, hoping that the whole Fort would burn and she'd left. She'd taken the first caravan due to leave and never looked behind. Ash-Skin. They not wrong, her skin was made of ashes. The Legion's ashes, Vulpes, Boone, her mother's ashes. Her father. My father. It sounded so… Inappropriate. She'd never called him father. He was Caesar, for her and everyone. And he should always remain Caesar, whatever his original name was.
"And what is changed, in me ?" She asked cockily, waited for some goody-two-shoes answer. "My eyes ? They're dim ? Dead maybe ?
- No. It's not your eyes or any of your features. Why did you leave the Mojave, exactly ?
- I needed some fresh air.
- I got that quite clearly," he retorted. "But why ? Why couldn't you lead the Legion anymore ?
- Because I wasn't Iulia anymore. I had become something else and this something else couldn't lead the Legion."
She was tired of lying. She was going to stay three days, she could as well try to dodge him or speak to him. He was the only person there who could possibly get a grasp of who she was, what she was doing and, mainly, what she was seeking. Even if even she didn't know what she was exactly seeking.
And she was tired of being alone. She was alone since Vulpes' death and it'd been something like three months. She'd never been alone before : the Legion, Vulpes, Boone, Vulpes again. Even if none of them had ever really fully understood her, they were there. And it ached to be alone with herself, to have no one to talk to. I'm supposed to be selfish, maniac, cruel and here I am, desperate over company. And he didn't say anything. Didn't laugh. And she couldn't see his face, couldn't know if he was smiling with mockery or if he didn't give a damn.
"This is seriously complicated to know what you're thinking with your… Bandages, y'know." she sighed. "Even if I don't care really care about what you're thinking.
- Of course. I'm just surprised that someone like you could feel this… Incompetent.
- Of course," she groaned. "How could someone who has opened woman in half to take their baby can feel like she can't lead a bunch of bloodthirsty slavers ?
- I remember that." He shrugged when he saw she was frowning. "The day Caesar asked you to open this woman. You were but twelve.
- Thirteen."
She shivered at the memory. Of course he remembered. It was the worst day of her life, alongside with the bullet thing and Boone's death. Caesar had called her. She was training but she was authorized to leave the ranks. He was waiting for her in the slavers' shacks. A pregnant woman was screaming on a bed. "I'M NOT GIVING YOU MY BABY ! HE WILL DIE WITH ME !" was all she was saying. She remembered it was painful, those howls. Caesar had looked at her straight in the eyes and he had asked her what the female slaves' task was. Obediently she had answered that they had to provide the Legion with vigorous and pure males. This one, he told her, doesn't want to fulfil her task. So he asked what had to be done when a slave refused to accomplish her one and only mission. She answered that she had to be forced to.
And Malpais Legate was also there, behind Caesar, his face half hidden in the dark. His eyes were glowing – his blue eyes. She was handed a knife. And asked to force the woman into delivering the baby. I must open her, she'd thought. So that we can take the baby out of her because it is dead. Childish reasoning. But it was what she was asked to do. So she did it. The howls went even uglier, even more painful, but then it went duller and duller as the baby's screams went more powerful. Caesar had nodded, satisfied, and had congratulated her. She had smiled, covered with blood. She'd done what she was asked to, as a perfect little soldier.