Chapter 3

We headed west. We thought it was west. Menderash worked under the assumption that we had returned after six months, assessed the Sun's positioning, and from that came up with a direction. West seemed like a sensible way to go because we would eventually find civilization or coast. It might have taken a lot of walking, though.

We considered morphing at first to grant us extra speed, but we would have to leave him behind or let him ride one of our morphs and risk getting injured. I wouldn't permit either, so we walked with slow Human legs. At least we had Tobias in the sky to survey the area.

There were some signs of Human activity: Marco found a crushed soda can; Santorelli spotted a trash-filled plastic bag; An old abandoned truck sat amidst a cluster of Yucca palms. Our journey was taking us in the right direction.

"You sure they wanted to drop us home?" Marco asked me, walking by my side. "They couldn't have put us in my backyard?"

"You think we wouldn't still be walking if they had?" I said back.

"No. But as long as I can see my thirty-foot fountain, I can find my way back. At least we wouldn't be totally lost."

I took a short detour over a sandbank to our left, separating us from the others so they would not overhear us. I wanted to clear up a few things. "Marco, I didn't see this happening."

"See what happening?" he asked, stepping over a small collection of rocks and yelping out when the back of his heel scraped over one.

"You know what I mean. This. Waking up here."

"Duh. You think I'm blaming you for that?"

I shrugged. "No. I just thought we'd…"

He finished for me as I struggled for the right words. "Get lost in space? Find the Enterprise and party with Spock? Die?"

I didn't know if I would have chosen any of them, but it helped me to discover that I never knew to begin with. I shot Marco a look, and he seemed to catch on.

"I know what this is, Jake," he uttered, turning down his volume. "And I'm sure we talked about it before we left. You decided to save Ax. This is a setback—a defeat. Now you're blaming yourself. Listen, you tried. Something happened that you couldn't control, and now we're back at square one. But you know what? We're still here. Square one isn't square-dead."

"Maybe-"

"No. It wasn't a mistake, dude," he insisted, slapping a hand down on my shoulder twice before jumping down a shallow bank ahead of me. "You think I got angry back there because I think this was a mistake?"

I didn't want to put words in his mouth, so I shrugged again, pushing him to continue.

"I got angry because we were so close, Jake," he explained. "We saw Ax. Something of him, at least. Just because I have my big mansion, my… I forget how many acres I have. My model girlfriend, who was also an A-list actress, doesn't mean that I don't care for you guys. You know what? I'd trade it all to get Ax back."

"I know that," I replied. "And I knew it back then."

"So no, Jake. This isn't a failure, man. The failure would be going home now and staying there."

I smiled at him, returning his slap on the shoulder. "That game show has turned you into a really good speaker."

"Huh? It's a natural talent!"

We started to turn back towards the others, melding into the single file that passed along the narrow beaten path. "I never planned to stay back in Santa Barbara," I explained to Marco as he moved in front of me. I still had a clear view over his head. "But we need a place to plan our next steps."

"I sure hope you don't suggest my mansion…"

"Why not? It's big enough to hide away in for a few days."

He snorted and looked over his shoulder. "What if Wetherbee sees us?"

"Wetherbee?"

"Yeah! My butler. I'm sure you've met him."

"McPherson? Would he still be there? Even if you'd been gone a year? Or more?"

He turned back around after almost stumbling over some dried wood. "Somebody's got to water the orchids."

"Can you think of anywhere better?" I pressed.

He pondered it and then sighed when he gave up. "Fine. We'll head to Maison de Marco."

Our walk continued for some time. We were starting to tire, starting to lose hope, and starting to get some bad sunburn. Tobias had very little to call down to us, other than reports of more trash that had been deposited by careless travelers. Our worries began to increase when the Sun started its descent to the horizon and our need for water increased.

Thankfully, just before we were due to stop and have a re-think, Tobias finally brought us some good news. ((Hey, guys, I see a road up ahead.))

That really got us moving, and in no time, we had jumped some dilapidated old fencing to stand beside the glorious light-grey, dusted streak that stretched infinitely to our left and our right.

Then the long wait began. We were naïve to think that a road automatically meant that vehicles would be present. Menderash was handily keeping track of his approximate time, but his half-hourly announcements became tiresome after a while. The five of us were agitated, looking even more disheveled than the fence we lined up against.

"Maybe it's true," Marco spoke up after a long, painful silence. "Everybody died. Earth is deserted. We're actually sitting on the Vegas Strip."

"What I wouldn't give to see Vegas right now," Santorelli added from his daydreaming.

"Maybe we should go?" Jeanne suggested, pointing a finger into the distance where the road led.

"I agree. Prince Jake," Menderash said, feeling it crucial to drag me into the conversation. "If a vehicle is not coming, maybe we'd better follow this road. There may be some shelter, in case we're still out when night arrives."

We were reluctant to move again, but it seemed like the best option. We followed the road, paying close attention to reports from Tobias way up high. The longer it went on, the more silent we fell and the more aware of our thirst we became. It wouldn't be long before we would have to stop again.

((I see something, just coming over the horizon. It's… Yeah, it's a truck!))

At last, some good news. We all perked at Tobias' announcement and looked at each other for clarification that we had not just been imagining it. Soon, the beautiful sound of a whirring engine became a reality, and we edged our toes right up to the side of the road. We would not be missed.

It was a rusty old red pick-up truck, the very sort you'd expect to see chugging along a desert road. It certainly wasn't going to be as comfortable as Marco's limousine, but none of us cared in the slightest. When it came into full view, we began to wave our arms in the air, so desperate that merely sticking out a thumb wasn't going to be an option.

He came closer. And closer. And closer… He wasn't slowing down.

So we started shouting, started to jog down the side of the road as he began to pass us, but to no avail. The truck passed me, the frowning man inside not looking particularly moved by our situation. We probably didn't look too trustworthy.

Maybe one of us did, though. Just when we had lost hope, the vehicle suddenly and noisily applied the brakes when it passed the last person in the line: Jeanne.

The driver pulled over to our side of the road and waved us over with a thick finger, the engine still chugging haughtily.

We indicated to Jeanne that she should be the one to speak. It was hearing her calls and seeing her waving that made the driver stop. When we jogged towards the truck, Santorelli spoke quietly to me. "Think it was the French accent? Or the fact that she still looks like she could star in James Bond movies, even in those rags?"

I considered the questions rhetorical, and we all came to a stop beside Jeanne as she stepped up to the truck's window. The narrow-eyed man inside, complete with a cigarette drooping from the corner of his mouth, looked her over with intrigue. "You ain't from around here," he observed.

"We have a genius…" Marco whispered to me. I shoved an elbow into his ribs.

Jeanne responded with her unmistakable French accent. "Excuse me, we are lost, and we have no water. Could you please help us to the nearest town?"

The man stared a few seconds longer. Everybody breathed the same sigh of relief when he flicked his head towards the back of his truck. One by one, we gave our sincere thanks and jumped into the back of the pick-up truck.

We were heading home.