New Blood
by Saber Alexander
McConnell
Rated PG13
CHAPTER 6: The Storm Gathers
The Renaissance faire ran again that weekend, and Nohano was discomfited to realize that Friday dawned overcast and still. He nearly panicked, remembering his dream, and the clouds that had cast their appalling green tinge on the landscape. Though once the initial alarm passed, and nothing horrible happened, Nohano was able to dismiss the weather, at least temporarily. On seeing that the clouds were an ordinary gray, he calmed further.
Maybe it was just the strange weather patterns the world had been experiencing the past few years, and they had somehow influenced that nightmare. He tried very hard to convince himself of that; fooling himself had gotten him through the week without losing too much of his sanity.
During a noontime performance, Nohano nearly dropped his drum, right in the middle of a song—it was a good thing he did not sing on that song, else he would have bollocksed up the performance. And for good reason. Wandering among the fairegoers was a boy Nohano's age, with longish, blond hair, and a sort of lost expression on his face. That would not normally be remarkable, except that Nohano had seen the boy before in his dreams, swallowed up by a tsunami.
As the song ended, the blond boy turned and caught Nohano's eyes, and the blond's eyes widened with recognition. 'So,' Nohano thought, half hysterically, 'he's had dreams, too!' This was getting unreal; he had to talk to this kid.
Nohano got through the rest of the performance without making any mistakes, even though the blond kid had come to watch. Robert said that they were going to head over to the beer garden, and asked if he was going to join them or get some lunch. It was a perfect opportunity.
"I'm gonna grab some lunch," said Nohano. "I'm starving."
"Yeah," said Manny, "You really need to get some meat on those bones, Skinny."
"Yeah, thanks," said Nohano, shaking his head. He waved to the others as they headed off towards their beer, and Nohano hopped off the stage. For once they didn't have to switch stages, and so they left their equipment behind the stage itself. Nohano was glad; he didn't think he could really concentrate on moving equipment just then.
The other boy seemed to have been expecting Nohano to approach him, for he stayed where he was as the rest of the spectators left to catch other shows. For a moment, the two boys stood there looking sheepishly at the other, until Nohano spoke. "Um, hey...could I buy you a soda?"
The blond kid smiled, looking both pleased and surprised at the offer. "All right," he said. Thanks."
Nohano felt both a thrill of excitement and a jolt of terror at hearing his voice; the kid was Australian, telling him without a doubt it really was the boy from his dream. "Okay, this way—I get a discount for being a performer, too. Er, I'm Nohano."
He offered his hand as they began to walk, and the other boy took it. "Killian," he said. "Killian Zale."
Nohano's first impression was that Killian was easily likable—his tone was friendly, and his eyes shone with a sort of inner warmth. Nohano had always thought that kind of description had been reserved for novels until he saw it in person. "Well my first name's Kalama," said Nohano, "but I don't use it. Nohano sounds cooler and less like a girl's name."
Killian laughed, which Nohano was glad to hear; by the look of him, he'd not laughed in a while.
The two boys made their way to one of the food service tents, where Nohano bought himself a Mountain Dew Ultra, and Killian a cola. They sat towards the back, where most of the tables were empty. "Guess we've got a lot of talking to do, huh?" said Nohano, not quite sure how to begin.
Killian nodded, looking grim. "Yeah, I think so. See, I knew you when I saw you on the stage."
"Weird dreams?" Nohano asked tentatively, his eye on Killian's face to judge whether he'd think Nohano was insane or not.
The look of relief and recognition on the boy's face put Nohano at ease. "Yeah...yeah, definitely weird. I mean if that's what you wanna call it."
"Well, lack of a better word." Nohano laughed a little. He hesitated a moment, taking a sip of his soda to avoid having to talk, and then he reached into the pocket of his costume breeches. He pulled out his sphere, which he had taken to carrying around with him—it gave him a strange sense of security, like a good luck charm or security blanket. Most of all he wanted to note Killian's reaction.
Killian stared for a moment, then reached in his own pocket and pulled out his own little ball of swirling mist. His was sea green, or blue, Nohano couldn't tell.
"Oh boy."
Killian looked just as stunned. "Right. Well...I think there're others we've got to find."
Nohano nodded and put the orb away, glancing once around to see who might be hanging around. There was no one that seemed to be interested in them; most of the people were talking with their friends or listening to a minstrel who was sitting in the tent and playing a lute. The only one by himself was a tallish boy at the other end of the tent, but as he seemed to be watching the minstrel, Nohano was satisfied. "You know anything about what these things do?" he asked Killian, turning back around.
"A little," said Killian. "I think they all have different properties. How'd you get yours?"
"It was mailed to me," said Nohano with a quiet, disbelieving laugh. "From Japan. When I was little. When I left my foster home, they gave me the package, saying they were supposed to hand it over when I was old enough." Seeing the odd look on Killian's face, he added, "I know, I'm only just fifteen, fourteen when I left, but I'm an emancipated minor—means I have most the rights of an adult, and can legally live alone."
"Oh! Wow—that must be pretty cool," said Killian, sounding impressed. "I guess we have something like that in Australia..." He shrugged, trailing off. "Not that it matters much, now."
"I know," said Nohano quietly, feeling a strong surge of sympathy. "I catch it on the news sometimes and...well when I dreamed of you, there was fighting, and a tsunami." He winced a little at how matter-of-fact he sounded. There was nothing whatsoever matter-of-fact about the horror that had been that dream—and the reality.
Killian's eyes were wide. "Crikey," he whispered. "I don't believe it! That really happened...I got caught right in the middle of it. I thought I was dead, but..." He looked down to the orb he still held in his hands. "I think I've got some kind of...water affinity. The tsunami just washed me out to Melville Island, where I found this thing in the surf. I left Australia after that."
"And your parents?" Nohano's voice was hushed.
The boy shook his head darkly. "Dunno, mate. We got separated when the sirens went off. I hope they're alive, but...but I don't think they are."
Killian looked like he was about to cry, which made Nohano feel like he wanted to cry. Seeing others cry always affected him like that. He impulsively reached out to grasp the other boy's forearm, a tentative offer of compassion, and Killian smiled, nodding his head in thanks. "You have a place to stay?" Nohano asked.
"Well, no. It's been warm enough, I've just been ducking into alleys and whatnot." Killian rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't believe some of the garbage people'll throw out in those places."
"Well enough of that," said Nohano, grinning. "The other guys and I share a studio apartment when we're traveling, and we'll be here until the end of the faire. They won't mind a roommate."
Killian blushed, which strangely endeared him to Nohano. "No, I-I couldn't...I mean--"
"Hey." Nohano had stopped smiling, cutting Killian off before he could protest further. "Listen. You and I are, well, I think we're getting into some big stuff here. You're gonna need a safer place to stay. And if we're bunking together, we can start putting together more of this...mystery. Not to mention concentrating on finding the others. I know the guys won't mind. There's five of us already, and the area's pretty big. I couldn't just let someone stay on the streets, anyway. It's not right."
It was clear that Killian was weary of being alone, or weary of being on the streets, one of the two, because though it looked as if he wanted to protest more, he didn't. He only nodded, his cheeks still pink. "Thanks, mate."
"You got anything with you?"
"No." Nohano had the idea that Killian was normally a cheerful sort, because the weariness and sorrow on his face clearly did not belong there. Nohano felt a surge of anger for the stupid jackasses that had started a bloody war, and left the innocents to suffer in the middle of it all.
"That's no problem, I've got some extra clothing that should fit you. If you want, I could probably find some work around the faire for you if you wanted to earn a little extra money."
Killian's expression cheered a bit at the idea. "That'd be great—I could get some second-hand clothing for myself, help a little with the rent and all."
"Do what you feel you need to, it's cool. But don't worry about it today. Rent, I mean. I'll go talk to some of the faire directors, see if they've got some miscellaneous work they need done. Meanwhile, stick around us; I got another performance before lunch, then I'm free for a few hours."
"Nohano!"
Nohano turned around at Gregory's voice, and realized that the others had all returned. "What? Ya bigmouth!"
Gregory snorted. "That's rich, comin' from you. Anyway, it's almost one. Get your arse over to the stage, we're on in twenty minutes." He grinned, turning his gaze to Killian. "Friend of yours, kid?"
"Huh? Oh! Yeah, this is Killian. He's gonna hang around with us for the day, I gotta talk to the faire director, see if he's got some odd jobs."
"Likely," said Robert quietly. "He's been bitching about cleanup of late, and what pigs the fairegoers are."
Both Nohano and Killian chuckled at this. "He's right," said Nohano ruefully. "Okay, okay, I'm comin'. Come on, Killian, let's get away from these miserable losers." He shot a grin to the other members of No Quarter, dodging four fists as he sprinted outside.
After lunch and their performance, Nohano and Killian spent a couple of hours enjoying the faire and watching the other groups sing or perform their skits and shows. The two spoke of the things they liked to do, what movies they thought were lame, and the new television-restriction laws. (Nohano personally thought they were a good idea; they forbade families with children from playing NC-17 shows in their homes.)
After eating at one of the food stalls, Nohano brought his new friend to the faire director, a short, scrawny man named Phil, who wore a goatee that he thought made him look distinguished. He was a good enough man, though he had the tendency to rant and rave when he got stressed. Now was one of those times. Nohano watched the man pace the main volunteer tent for several minutes, until he caught sight of the two boys. "How long have you been standing there?" he demanded.
Only barely suppressing a grin, Nohano said, "About five minutes. It was too entertaining to interrupt."
The director narrowed his eyes, as Nohano shook with silent laughter. Then Phil sighed, rolled his eyes to the heavens, and shook his head. "Brat." But Nohano knew him well enough to know he wasn't truly angry. "What do you want?"
"Robert says you're looking to hire clean-up personnel?"
"Yeah, and?"
"Well my friend here is looking for some odd jobs. His name's Killian."
Phil's expression changed almost instantly at the idea of some more help. "Fantastic!" He came over to shake Killian's hand, while Nohano stood back and watched. "How old are you, kid?"
"Fifteen, sir," said Killian.
"Great, that's old enough for part time. But call me Phil. Come on over here and I'll have you fill out an application. Nothing much, just name and address and all that."
"Oh, he stays with us," said Nohano.
"Oh! That makes it easier. All I really need is your name, then."
Satisfied that Killian would be busy enough, Nohano touched the other boy lightly on the shoulder and said, "I gotta get outta here, before the guys skin me or something. You wanna meet up later? If Phil doesn't work you into collapse, that is."
Phil gave him a dirty look, and Killian laughed quietly. "All right," said he. "I'll see you then."
Nohano jogged back towards the main part of the faire, feeling oddly satisfied. He'd spent a long time in the company of adults, never with anyone his own age around. And Killian was a very likable person, not to mention someone with whom he could share the frightening predicament he seemed to have gotten himself into.
When he rejoined the rest of the group, he spoke quietly to Robert, saying that Killian had come from Australia, and had no place to stay. Robert expressed concern that he should probably go to Social Services, but Nohano protested, saying that the Social Services department was busy enough with younger children, and how impersonal the whole thing was. Robert couldn't really argue.
"Don't get me wrong," said Robert. "I don't mind, and I know the guys won't. Just...well he's about your age, isn't he?"
"Yep, he's fifteen."
"That's cool, I guess. You said he's getting some work around the faire?"
"Yeah, he doesn't have anything but the clothes on his back. I figure we can go to the secondhand shops and get him some clothing and maybe a bedroll. He said he'll help us move the equipment and everything, too. Hell, I had to practically twist his arm to get him to agree to stay with us."
"Well he doesn't know us, I guess I can understand. He a friend of yours from before you joined us?"
"Yeah, you could say that." Nohano winced inside at the lie; it was a small lie, and he felt a necessary one, but he still didn't like telling it. "Anyway, could I con someone into driving us around after the faire closes for the night?" He gave what he hoped was an endearing grin.
Robert gave a long-suffering sigh, but nodded his head. "Okay, okay, you convinced me. Pest." He swiped Nohano's hair so that it flopped in his eyes, then hopped up onto the stage. Nohano glanced at the gathering audience, then hopped up as well, retrieving a couple of his drums from the back. He felt better than he had all week, and was ready for some raucous music to expend his energy.
The song list was to his liking. They played a fast, if violent song called Captain Kidd, and then a song called The Clean Song, which was full of almost-cusses, that the audience seemed to like. It was one of Nohano's favorites.
He caught sight of Killian, who had been put to work cleaning out the various overflowing trash receptacles—they were less than a meter high, which Nohano always thought was stupid. No wonder they filled up so quickly.
The rest of the day went quickly enough. No Quarter played twice more, and Killian spent the day alternately doing odd jobs and enjoying the faire. Nohano's arms ached as they often did after a long day, but he was cheerful when he sought Killian out. He silently began to help him in his tasks, not wanting to just hang around and do nothing while his new friend worked. Killian said nothing, but looked as if he appreciated the help.
There were other workers and volunteers, who pitched in to clean the place up once the fairegoers had gone home, and the task wasn't as daunting as it seemed at first. When they were finished, Killian said that Phil paid his workers by the day, though Nohano already knew that.
"So I won't have to raid your wardrobe," said Killian, a half-smirk on his face.
"That's good for you," said Nohano. "I have no taste in clothing, so I've been told."
A surprised laugh came from Killian, and he shook his head. "It can't be all that bad."
"Hey, I agree with you. Anyway, Robert says he'll cart us around to some of the secondhand shops so you can get some clothing and maybe a bedroll. I've got a hammock I use, and the others use their sleeping bags, since we can't exactly cart our beds around with us everywhere."
"Why not? You could just stack 'em on the roof."
Nohano snorted. "Right. Mention that to Robert." They both laughed, and Nohano made a "come on" gesture. "We're gonna drop the others off at the apartment, then head out. Robert says he knows a place where there're about five secondhand shops within four blocks. I figure he can go have a soda or something and we can just walk."
"Sounds fun, actually. I...well, I've been traveling alone since I left Australia. It's...well it's nice to have someone you know...show me around a bit."
"You seem like a pretty good guy, Killian," said Nohano, grinning. "Not to mention the only one around here who's my age. I've never met anyone who was able to emancipate himself so young as me. I wouldn't trade it though, I love this life."
"It does look pretty fun," said Killian. "I don't think I woulda liked to leave home so early, though. If I had a choice."
A sudden snarl from behind the boys made both of them yell and jump about a foot in the air. Nohano spun around and puffed up with acute indignation on seeing Manny standing there, the snarl on his face only barely concealing his smirk.
There followed a minute long rant of indignation from Nohano, as Killian first seemed to be getting his heart rate back to normal, and then laughed quietly at Nohano's ire. Manny only listened, a look of casual interest on his face as Nohano finished, and finally started laughing, himself. "You wanker!"
Manny pretended to take offense. "Let us leave my wanker out of this." Nohano sputtered laughter. "Come on, kid, Robert says if you're not at the van in five minutes, you get to walk home."
"Hey! Tell him he can't do that." He looked to Killian and laughed. "Come on, 'cause Robert'll do what he threatens!"
Twenty minutes later, Robert had dropped off the other members of No Quarter at home, and were heading towards one of the market distracts of Irwindale. "So, kiddies, any particular preference of which store you wanna stop at?"
Nohano, who had chosen to sit in one of the back seats next to Killian rather than take the shotgun seat, gave Robert a dirty look. There were a lot of advantages to being fifteen and on one's own, but there were plenty of disadvantages as well...including so-called adults who could not stand not making at least one "kiddy" joke a week. Nohano finally rolled his eyes and laughed. "Ya know, ya gotta go to sleep sometime." At least No Quarter was good-natured about it, and truly did respect his independence. "No preference. Just start at one end of the street, I guess."
"Man, death threats," said Robert, mock sadness tingeing his voice. "You can walk home."
Nohano scoffed, but said nothing, as Robert stopped the van. "I'll keep that in mind," he said as he and Killian got out. "Seeya in about an hour?"
"Sure, kid. Have fun, you two. Don't let Nohano talk your ear off."
Killian chuckled as Robert left, and Nohano shot the other boy a long-suffering look. "See what I put up with?" he joked.
"I'm sorry for you," said Killian with a grin. "Okay, well I got forty-five bucks to spend—not bad for five hours' work." The year before, in 2092, the minimum wage had been set nationally at eight-fifty an hour; but in California, it was nine, which was a good thing; living there could get expensive.
"Not bad at all," said Nohano. "Should be plenty to get you some clothing and stuff, and have a little left over." Secondhand shops tended to be ridiculously cheap, designed for people who didn't have a whole lot of money.
The boys talked as they shopped. Killian spoke of the war, and a little about his parents and the school he'd gone to. He told how he'd swum to Asia with the help of the orb he'd found, and managed to get passage from India to the United States. "I knew I had to meet others," he said. "Something drew me to the faire. I kinda had to sneak in, since I didn't have any money."
"Hey, you work there, now. You won't have to sneak anywhere."
Killian nodded and displayed the staff pass he'd been given by Phil when he was hired, though he looked rather glum. "I felt bad, doing it though."
"Hey. You did what you had t—hey this is a cool shirt." Nohano was distracted by a bright flash of color among the boring shirts he'd been browsing, and took it out to look at it. "Nice and bright. I might get it." It had stylized flames blazing all over it in vivid oranges and reds and yellows. He showed it to Killian for an opinion.
"Obnoxious. Like fire, do you?" asked Killian amusedly, finding a dark green shirt that seemed to suit him.
"Love it," said Nohano. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not a pyromaniac or anything, but I like fire. I like how it smells, I like the warmth. While the guys are dyin' in the heat, I'm just soakin' it up like some reptile."
That seemed to amuse Killian a great deal. "Maybe you're part python."
Nohano hissed, then snickered. "Just call me ol' snake-eyes."
The boys laughed as they headed for the cashier.
As they walked to the next store, their purchases in their hands, it was Nohano's turn to talk. He told about how he'd been raised by a foster family, who agreed to let him become an emancipated minor after he auditioned with No Quarter and was accepted. He earned enough money from them, and had a small inheritance to help if he needed it. "I haven't needed it so far," he said. "I stay with the guys when we travel, and have enough for a small apartment when we don't."
He told Killian about the orb that was mailed to him, and about the strange riot gear it had formed on his body. Killian listened very closely to this. "I got the weird gear," he said. "I got it while I was swimming for Asia. After that, I found I had to concentrate on it while holding the orb, and sorta grip the orb...you said it appeared when you got angry?" Nohano nodded. "Strange...well, maybe you willed it into working. You wanted it to do something so badly."
That was an idea! Nohano decided he would try it again the next time he and Killian got some privacy. If he could figure out how to get it to work when he wanted it to, all the better!
As Nohano and Killian were finishing their shopping spree, the discussion turned then to the strange weather. Killian thought that it was the same thing causing the hurricanes that were battering his continent, and Nohano wished that he could truly agree with him; it was what he had been trying to convince himself all that week. But now, with the arrival of this boy from his dreams, well... He was taking his dreams far more seriously. Including the nightmares.
It didn't take all of an hour to finish their shopping, and when they were done, Nohano had the shirt and a pair of sneakers (his were dying), and Killian had several bags of stuff. Aside from a few shirts and pants, he had gotten a couple of books, a sleeping bag, and a small pillow. Finally, he'd ducked into a drug store nearby to get a spiral notebook and a package of ballpoint pens. "I like to write," he'd explained. "Been missing it."
The rest of the time, they just talked of their lives and the things that they enjoyed. They didn't have a whole lot in common, but they got along quite well. Nohano supposed it was the ancient saying about opposites attracting.
When they got back to the apartment, Nohano introduced Killian to the rest of the group, and they all ate a light supper. They invited Killian to play a couple of rounds of gin rummy before the other guys were ready for bed.
Killian set his sleeping bag up in the corner, next to Nohano's hammock, where they could talk if they wanted to, and not disturb the others. They didn't end up doing much talking; both of them were quite tired from the events of the day, and Nohano expected that Killian was probably relieved to have a safe place to sleep. Nohano, thankfully, did not dream that night that he remembered. 'Maybe it really was just a dream,' he thought.
How very wrong he was.