The wind picked up, pelting the metal husk of the trailer with ruddy sand. Dry succulent leaves scratched against one another in the rock bed lining the front. Out back, scattered tools and spare parts baked in the sun, and the distance faintly shimmered.
Zeke plucked the hat from his head and tilted his chin up, eyes closed to enjoy the breeze. It wasn't exactly cool, but it wicked some of the sweat from his forehead and made the work a little more bearable. If only this damn thing wasn't too heavy to get up the front step…
A frustrated sound from his ward prompted him to turn; just in time to catch her dashing what remained of the three inch tall 'sculpture' she had been forming with the sand.
"Ya'alright there sport?" He turned to better look at her, pouting and tugging her braid.
Juliette pulled her knees up to her chest and answered like it was a boring question, "Yeah."
He left a pause for her to change her mind before conceding, "Alright."
Zeke plopped the stiff leather cowboy hat back on his head and rubbed the sunburn on the back of his neck. Pulling back his hand, he grimaced at the grease on it. The sound of metal tinkering and Zeke's own grunts of effort resumed for a few beats.
"What's the point of having powers if they're not even strong enough to hold up against a little wind?" She said, as cross as she was defeated.
"Just takes practice is all."
Juliette only grew more frustrated by his reassurance, "But I don't know how to practice."
Zeke glanced back at her, brows creased. "What do you mean you don't know how? Just… keep doing it."
"I've been doing it!"
"But like, how are you doing it?" He paused in his work to gesture with a wrench, "Are you, y'know, really connecting with the feeling? Can you feel where the connection's weak?"
Finally she snapped, "Ugh, what do you know? You're not a conduit."
He went back to work on the generator. "… No, I'm not. But you're not the first one I've known and you won't be the last. And this is not my first time helping somebody figure out what their powers do, either."
Juliette didn't answer and Zeke didn't push. Shadows shifted and the wind started to die.
Sand brushed his ankle, and he wouldn't have given it a second thought if it hadn't moved against the breeze. Zeke looked down and saw a single word scrawled in the loose earth, "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it, kid. I'm sorry too; I shouldn't talk like I know more than I do." He turned back again to give her a smile that she shyly returned.
It faded quickly however, her brows knitting as she squinted past him. Juliette's eyes went wide and she pressed her palms flat against the ground. Zeke knew even before he whipped around to look; a dust cloud plumed against the horizon.
"Shit - shit, get in the house!" he nearly slipped as he got up and turned hard. Juliette was way ahead of him, already disappearing around the side of the house. He heard the rattling of both the flimsy metal and screen doors slamming open.
Rounding the corner, he found her still waiting for him.
"I said go!" He shouted, but she wouldn't budge until he was close enough to catch the door.
Juliette practically jumped up onto the kitchen table, the sound of its protests mashing together with the slamming and locking of doors. Then there was silence as they waited for their eyes to adjust to the relative dark. Zeke could almost swear he heard Juliette's heart beating as he passed her, crossing to the window opposite the door.
Whatever was disturbing the sand slowed down just feet beyond where he'd been working. It left a trail like a side-winder moving just under the surface, creeping its way between the things they'd left behind. Zeke watched intently, leaning in so his nose almost touched the glass. Grimacing as it nosed with interest around his tools and chair. Flipped over a wrench and tipped a can of oil so it oozed out, staining the red earth. From the size of the trail, he'd guess its body was half a foot across.
When it wandered around the side of the trailer, beyond the view of that window, Zeke followed. It never once approached the spot where Juliette had been sitting - Zeke could breathe a sigh of relief at that. But it made wavy little circles in the spot where they usually parked, and around the mailbox.
Tense minutes passed and the side-winder moved slowly away from the house. Only once did he see it poke its snout up out of the ground, but what for, he couldn't tell. At that distance, he couldn't make out much, other than it was dark brown, oblong and no sand seemed to stick to it.
When it had been a minute out of sight, Zeke finally breathed, "It's gone…"
With that Juliette couldn't hold on to her anxiety anymore, and it burst out as a desperate question, "How did she find me out here?!"
The sudden loudness ratcheted up his nerves and Zeke threw out a hand, "She ain't found shit!"
"But it came right for us, like it knew we were here!"
"It was a scout, it came for the only thing out here - if it knew we were here it wouldn't have given up so easy."
She didn't know how to answer - she wanted him to be right.
His expression softened, "It's okay, we know now that it ain't exactly smart. Came right up under our noses and couldn't find us."
Juliette wrung her hands, but the simple logic of it did seem to calm her.
"It was just poking around, probably didn't even learn anything. We'll just stay inside for today just in case and it'll all be fine."
Zeke held out a hand to her - she didn't take it, but she did slide off the table. Self-consciously smoothing her shirt, clearly feeling now like she had over-reacted, Juliette cleared her throat.
"Yeah, okay…"
"Now go on and get yourself a drink and lay down or somethin'. I'll keep an eye out."
She shifted her weight for a moment, considering indulging her impulse toward playful defiance, but the scare had tired her out. She opened and closed her mouth a couple times and traced her fingertips over the hems of her pockets. Ultimately she left without another word, moving down the hall and out of his line of sight. Her bedroom door squeaked, but didn't click closed.
Alone now with his thoughts, Zeke grabbed a chair from the table - the creaky, rusty folding one with a forest-green pleather seat. He had more or less believed himself when he said it was all okay now, but he'd still keep vigil, just in case.
—
The evening air was still. The shadow of their temporary shelter pulled long over the front step, where Zeke sat waiting, elbows on his knees. Watching the miles dotted with cacti, until a truck rounded the rock formation to the south, known locally as Camel Peak.
Zeke shifted his weight from one elbow to the other, stewing over what to say. He'd had all afternoon to think, but now that the moment was almost upon him, he was questioning it all again.
The truck pulled up, halfway under the shadow. While it was dirty, it was fairly new, and a bright teal under all the red dust. The back was loaded with various electronics and frosted plastic containers of sundry chemicals.
The person who stepped out, he would describe them as average height and stone faced, liked jokes but could absolutely not tell one. Wearing a fringed leather vest and jeans with sneakers. His partner in crimes that had no business being crimes.
Roscoe shut the door while turning to grab some things from the back. "Need something, Jed, or you just miss me?"
Zeke pushed himself up from his seat, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, we need to have an adult talk," He tilted his head to the side for a moment, "but not the fun kind."
They stepped fully into the shadow of the shelter, paper bags, one with a soggy bottom, in the crook of their arm. "Urgent, or do I get to eat first?"
"Yeah, we can eat." He said, pulling open the door for them.
A single bulb with dangling chain lit the main room, with an aged dark-oak table and three mis-matched chairs in the middle. To the right was the kitchen, to the left the bathroom, followed by two bedrooms. Weeks here still hadn't quite rid them of the musty, 'unfamiliar place' smell.
Roscoe made for the kitchen to set down their bags. Zeke sat at the table, facing the door, his ankles wrapped around the chair legs and his arms folded on the tabletop.
He tapped his foot on the linoleum while Roscoe put away the cold things. Juliette's music just barely reached them from beyond her door, and as the sun faded away, the overhead light seemed to press down on them.
Their task done, Roscoe left the rest for later and pulled out a trio of styrofoam containers, sweating from their long journey.
When Roscoe took one and stepped past the table, Zeke objected, "Haven't seen her in a few hours, think she might'a fallen asleep."
They nodded their understanding, tucking it instead into the microwave and bringing the others to the table. While they were grabbing forks, Zeke came out with it,
"We might have to move soon."
Roscoe's hand hung in the air for just a second. "… Alright."
"A scout was out here today and I can't really say what that means…"
"I'll start getting things together tomorrow." Roscoe said, grabbing a mug from the rack on the wall and going to pour themself a drink.
Zeke scratched his head and tapped his knuckles on the tabletop. "Dammit, Roscoe, can't you just argue with me for once?"
They shifted their mug from one hand to the other. "Okay. Juliette isn't going to like it. I won't like it - I like the dry heat and the solitude out here. We're not at budget for a move. Moving while we may be being watched will be dangerous."
He laughed softly and shook his head, "That's better. How am I supposed to feel like I know what's best without someone telling me I'm full of shit?"
"What I'm here for." Roscoe set down at the table across from him, looking into their cup. Zeke finally pulled his food toward himself and popped it open.
Before either could continue, there came the sound of doors opening, feet crossing the ratty carpet. The bathroom light clicked on, followed by the sound of running water. The adults shared a quick look.
Whatever agreement might have passed between them became moot when Juliette emerged, her braid frayed with sleep.
"So, we're leaving?"
Zeke dipped his head a little further toward his noodles. He hadn't planned on keeping it from her, he just wanted her not to stress tonight. "Probably for the best."
He went to grab her dinner while she got settled at the table.
"How soon?"
"Hard to say. We'll probably look around in the morning, see what we can see, and go from there."
She nodded, holding her elbows.
"Sure we can find you a better place to practice than this anyway." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.
Roscoe, with their mouth full, raised a single finger and stood. They shimmied the couple awkward steps to the counter and rooted around in the dry paper bag. Once they returned, they handed Juliette a purple plastic sandcastle the width of her palm. Kinetic sand. She looked up at them without raising her head.
"We all start with training wheels." They offered.
"… Y'know what, I think that might actually be a good idea. You can practice moving it without having to worry so much about keeping it together. Figure that part out later." Zeke said, with something so genuine to his voice that it had Juliette looking back down at it.
A little smile tugged at her lips as she thanked them, popping open the container.
—
The morning came and the tall cactus shadows skittered away from their windows. Smoke drifted from their chimney smelling of cheap sausage.
Morning crept closer to noon and the three occupants marched down the step; Zeke, then Juliette, then Roscoe. Much of the side-winder's trail was gone now, taken by the elements, but the things out back were still disturbed. His seat sitting askew, tools tipped over, oil spilled. He took verbal note of it all, for Roscoe's benefit. But there was one thing it took him a minute to notice; something was missing.
"… Piece of shit took my hat!" Zeke scuffed at the sand with the toe of his shoe. Next to his seat where he'd been working yesterday was a shallow divot where it looked like the sand had been sucked downward, the hat he'd dropped in his haste nowhere in sight.
"How did I not see-" He stopped dead, the realization dropping into his mind like a stone, "… It came back."
The thing had come back, and taken evidence with it when it went.
"It could have blown away." Juliette offered.
Zeke glanced at her, surprised at her calm, considering the implications. It wasn't a serious suggestion - she wasn't naive enough to ignore the clear hole - so he didn't bother to argue it.
Roscoe pulled up the knees of their pants and knelt down low, dipping their little finger into the center of the hole. Zeke raised an eyebrow.
"We should start packing today." They said after a few moments, drawing their hand back. Zeke expected some further explanation, but none was forthcoming. Instead, they righted his toolbox and started putting things back in it.
—
Another morning came, light glaring sharp off the front of the house. Juliette hopped off the top step with her bedding bundled up in her arms. The truck idled in the driveway, Zeke hanging his elbow out the driver-side window. Moving around the front of the vehicle, she frowned to discover Roscoe had taken shotgun - not unusual, but disappointing all the same.
As she pulled the door closed and settled into her seat behind them, she couldn't help but ask, "I still get to pick a pit-stop, right?"
"Course." Zeke answered with a smile in his voice. Beside him, Roscoe popped open the glove compartment, shuffling through the papers, napkins, odds and ends until they found the maps. Juliette was glad to receive the gaggle of laminated papers. With her pillow in her lap, she sorted through them until she had a couple for the direction they were headed, tossing the others into the seat beside her.
Zeke pulled them out of the driveway and the lot of them barely spared a glance back to their home of the previous months. Headed due south toward Camel Peak and the town beyond. Past a grocery store with windows all along the front, an electronics place with a rusty canopy, and a number of charming little homes trying hard to bring color to a desert.
There was always something surreal to him about rolling through some dusty old town for the last time - knowing that somewhere that had become familiar would soon be a memory, a place they would likely never go again. Leaving in its wake a nostalgia not unlike childhood; a longing left behind by the knowledge that not even important things are forever. Even that which seems most vital becomes something you learn to live without.
An older woman in her garden waved to them and Zeke waved back. It's the last interaction he has in the town before it's behind them.
Picking up speed, the wind whips around the cabin. Crooning country music only just audible from the radio. Sun beating down on their arms. Untold miles lie ahead, nobody knows where they'll stay next.
Bumps in the road are normal, nobody has paved out here in decades. Bumps in the road are normal, even jarring ones, but not the bone-rattling leap that pulls a surprised squawk from Juliette. Like hitting a deep pothole that hadn't been there before. Roscoe leaned out their window, looking back; one of the jugs in their bed had been thrown out, now just a quickly-evaporating pool in the distance. They whipped back around to share a look with Zeke, his eyebrows furrowed deep and a twisting feeling in his gut.
He slowed dramatically - another hit like that could spell disaster, if it hadn't already. Roscoe kept their head out the window, eyes on the ground.
"Tell me what you see, Ros." Zeke bit.
They didn't answer immediately, and before they could the truck was jarred once again, swerving into the other lane. "Something's moving - waves -"
Again they're rocked. Juliette grips the seatbelt with both hands, feet braced against the seat in front of her.
"Ideas anyone?!" Zeke almost shouts. His heart is pounding in his chest. "Talk to me, Ros!"
"It's not her, it's just - whatever she can send!" Only the future would say whether that was for better or worse.
Ahead, the wavy trail from before shot out from beneath the asphalt, throwing up a dust cloud that quickly overwhelmed them, flooding in through the open windows. Zeke cut the wheel hard, coughing and sputtering and screwing his eyes shut against the stinging sand. They careened off the road, coming to a stop turned almost all the way around.
When he could finally open his eyes, blurred with tears, he found the air clear and Juliette holding out her hands, palms pointed toward either window and deep concentration on her face.
"Thanks, kid." He coughed. Then he realized the seat next to him was empty. He whipped around in his seat - Roscoe was already in the truck bed, digging for something. But beyond them, as everything settled, he could see a shape form.
A huge snake made of smooth, oblong stones in shades from tan to deep brown. Standing seven feet tall and looking down at them with hollow cavities for eyes.
He fumbled for the release on his seat belt. "Stay in the car."
The stone snake bobbed back and forth a few times, but did not approach further. Zeke threw open his door and got out, coming up alongside Roscoe.
Roscoe had pulled their sledge hammer out from under everything else. "Jed," they called, lobbing it to him.
Zeke caught it in both hands and with an appreciative nod, he continued forward, squaring up to the thing.
"I don't know how this works exactly, if your, uh, master, can hear me or something. But I hope you can get the message to her in some way; she is not getting this one. Not as long as I live."
And the snake tilted its head, like his death had been a forgone conclusion. Its first attack was like lightning; it snapped its tail around, going for his feet. Too fast for him to fully jump it, but he managed to stumble and stay upright. Being stone, it obviously had no mouth, but that didn't stop it from trying to strike him with its blunt head. He stopped it with the hammer head, braced on his palm, pain radiating all the way up his forearm.
The snake reeled back; while it could make no noise, it was clearly pained. As he had said the other day, it wasn't exactly smart, and while it had hurt him, the force wasn't anywhere near devastating.
Before it could orient itself for another strike, Zeke tracked back several steps. Its head came crashing down to form mini dunes in the sand.
Something burst up from beneath his feet, throwing him to the ground. Leaving him wide open to be smashed. Roscoe launched themself from the truck bed and ran toward the snake; it didn't even acknowledge them while they wrapped their hands around it. Even throwing all their weight into it wouldn't get it to stop. Instead its tail snapped at Zeke hard, glancing off the side of his head and leaving a nasty slash across his eyebrow.
"Jed!" Juliette cried, scrambling out of the truck. The snake's head jerked up, looking right at her. It wriggled its body to throw Roscoe aside. Her gaze flicked between it and Zeke. She did not back down. Juliette pursed her lips and curled her fists. An almost painful tension building in her wrists. She lifted her palms to the sky, raising a wall of sand between Zeke and herself and it. Shaky at first, but solidifying as it was able to pile on top of itself.
The stone serpent pierced the wall like it was nothing. Bypassed Zeke and came right for her.
Juliette tried to turn, to run, but its tail snapped around behind her, sweeping her feet out from under her. The fall knocked the wind out of her and she wheezed as she turned to look back at it, wide-eyed.
It leaned down with a faint glow in the hollows of its eye, the thin tip of its tail quickly trailing back behind her again, meaning to seize her around the middle. Take her god-knows-where.
"I said you don't touch that girl!" Zeke screamed as he brought the hammer down on the thing with every ounce of strength he had, cratering its head into the ground. Cracks spider-webbed out from the impact and the snake lay still. He'd been in the game far too long to trust that, though - he raised the hammer again, and again, until the head lay in shambles. Shards that he kicked and scattered just for good measure.
His arms ached from the impacts. He swallowed his ragged breathing. But his anger flared up again, just enough for him to kick at the rest of the body and spit on it. Sated, he stepped over the remains and offered Juliette a hand up.
Once she was up, she kept a tight grip on his hand, standing close at his side. A hug of sorts. An apology, a thanks.
"Come on then, we gotta get back on the road." He said softly. With a little coaxing, Juliette got back in her seat.
Roscoe was back in the truck's bed, grabbing their first-aid before hopping down. Zeke slid into the passenger's seat, facing the still-open door. He could see the regret on their face as they came to tend to his wound - he knew they had wanted to do more to help. He tried to smile, to say with a look that it was alright. Each of them was going to do what they were able, and that was all they needed to.