The Next Day

The gently rolling hills of the prairies were almost flat, especially when you looked to the east. The endless expanse of farmland, now laying dormant and largely untouched for over a generation, now provided plenty of territory to be reclaimed by the natural and hardy flora. The soft breeze and the warm bright sun filled Wyatt with such content,

“You look so happy!” The voice was familiar and fit nicely with the feelings of calmness. 

He turned to see Chancey standing beside him. That red hair ablaze in the sunlight and dancing in the playful breeze. Those eyes were bluer than usual and he nearly got lost looking into them. 

Suddenly he realized that they had been holding hands. Wyatt looked down at his fingers interlaced with his best friend’s—wait, this wasn’t right. 

“I’m happy that you’re happy.” Chancey’s voice was in his ear now. They were embracing but the hand clasp within his grip never wavered. 

As much as he secretly yearned for more intimacy between them, Wyatt felt that the contact between them now was tainted. A sense of unworthiness tugged at him and he struggled to keep ahold of his emotions. 

Now, he was pushing Chancey away and the other boy began to claw at him greedily. Suddenly, he was being pulled away by someone else.

What—Pacer?

He had been holding Pacer’s hand!

Then the dark haired boy slid in between him and Chancey, taking the brunt of the red head’s advances. Pacer smiled calmly as the brawny youth struck his back repeatedly. 

“No!” Wyatt froze mid-struggle, panting. The scream somehow resonated from the dream into reality and he was now tangled up in the blanket. Pacer’s silhouette was aglow next to him, the morning light cast across his naked torso. Wyatt watched as he withdrew his hand slowly, the fading sensation on his shoulder now registered. The look on the other boys face was a mix of concern and bewilderment. 

“Sorry! I was having a nightmare or something.” Wyatt straightened out the blanket and repositioned himself, yet he instinctively brought his knees up and hugged them. He could still smell the lingering aroma of the soap they had used last night. Wyatt was now acutely aware of that was actually completely naked under the blanket and by the quick sidelong glance he gave Pacer he guessed they had both fell asleep last night while letting all of their clothing dry. 

“I figured.” Pacer nodded. “If you don’t wanna talk about it, it’s fine. If you do, that’s fine too.”

For most of the morning, Wyatt remained silent. He repeatedly revisited the images from his dream, though as the sun rose in the sky many of the details from his dreams evaporated like morning mist. He couldn’t even fathom what it had meant. Regardless of what his subconscious had been working through, Wyatt was now very conscious of his interactions with Pacer. 

“You know, you talk in your sleep.”

Wyatt was sitting crosslegged on the floor trying to feed the scrawny kitten in his care. Last night he had thought to bring a dish of rain water in tiny furrball and this morning he seemed to have more energy. Both of the boys were now dressed again and mostly ready to head out when Pacer uttered those words.

“Don’t worry, it was mostly mumbling! But you did say Chancey’s name a few times. Then right before you woke up I think you said mine too.”

“Oh.” Wyatt stared at Pacer cautiously.

“Hey! I don’t know what you dreamed about but whatever it was just know that I am a good guy. I’m not out to hurt you or anyone. Okay?”

Wyatt saw the genuine concern in Pacer’s features as well as his tone. His voice was deeper than his own but it had such a smooth resonance to it. The warmth he felt for Pacer in that moment caused him to look away shyly. 

“I know,” was all he could manage. Then with a little bravery, “thank you.”

The next few hours passed with less words between the two. They got back onto the road by mid morning and made good progress for most of the day. The weather was less idyllic than yesterday, partially overcast but no further hint of rain. They stopped a few times so Pacer could try his hand at some small game hunting. He was keen to spot areas where certain birds and small animals might be. 

Wyatt felt uneasy about being so close lipped, but he tried to justify it by telling himself that they were essentially strangers. Strangers that jerked off together in the rain…

Wyatt glanced up over at Pacer who had absently coughed. He was laying across the back seat of an old rusted out vehicle. It was hard to tell what kind it had been; the wheels, doors, windshield, and the hood were gone. As was the front passenger seat, the engine, and most of the panels on passenger side. Oddly enough, the sun visors were still there and the mirror there allowed Wyatt to check on Pacer’s lounging form. 

Again, Pacer coughed.  

Wyatt swallowed a hypochondriac frog in his throat. Maybe he just caught a cold from last night. Or it could be any number of other stimuli causing the cough. 

Soon enough they were back to travelling on long abandoned roads towards some unclear destination. Pacer seemed to be a good mood, though he did let Wyatt take over driving for a few hours. Not a lot happened during that afternoon. 

“Are we getting any closer?” Wyatt finally broke his silence when he relinquished the bike again. The day wasn’t as hot as it had been yesterday but both boys broke into a sweat a few times already. Pacer had used the front of his shirt to soak up the sweat on his face numerous times and it had remained darkened with moisture even now. 

“Honestly, this place looks familiar but we might have to rough it for tonight.”

Wyatt just nodded and surveyed the horizon. There weren’t many buildings in the area, mostly just the odd house or two amongst a sea of farmland. Most of the crops have been overrun by weeds and wild grasses. While a few managed to retain a foothold on the landscape, without active maintenance most of it looked sickly and stunted. 

A few hours later they stopped again, this time near a small rundown bungalow that no doubt had meant to replace what must have been the original farm house behind it on a small hill. The mess of it looked like it was in the final throws of being swallowed up by the earth itself. 

“Here?” Wyatt scrunched up his face when they stopped at the end of the tangled mess of a driveway. 

“It’s either this, or sleeping under the open sky tonight. The bike is running out of juice again.”

They disembarked and Pacer brought the bike towards the house. Surprisingly the thing lasted as long as it did with the charge it had, though they did both a lot more pedalling even though there were less hills to climb. 

“I’m going to set up some traps while there’s still light. If we’re lucky we’ll have fresh meat later for tonight’s dinner, otherwise maybe a good breakfast.”

“Ok, I could start a fire.”

“No, not an open fire. It looks too dry here to risk it. See if you can find something inside to cook with though or to hold a small fire.”

While Pacer was off setting his traps Wyatt took a peak into the house. It was absolutely trashed inside. Most of the rooms looked like animals had nested there for years. There wasn’t much of anything that could be useful. The odours within the building also told Wyatt that if there wasn’t something already dead inside, the structure itself was probably rotting away. 

“Wyatt!” Pacer hissed as he stumbled through the door of the bungalow. Startled, the blond boy knocked over a stack of boxes in the hallway. A fair number of insects and a few rodents scattered from the debris.

Wyatt sprinted to the door with a look of disgust. 

“We have to go.” Pacer grabbed onto Wyatt’s arm.

“Thank—” 

“We have company.”

Wyatt snapped to attention, focus in on the dark haired boys next words.

“I heard a dog to the east—maybe south-east. It sounded pretty distant but whoever it is,” Pacer edged out of the house quickly tugging Wyatt along. “If their dog isn’t on our trail by now it won’t be long. And even if they’re not after us, they’ll want to investigate.”

“What if they aren’t wanderers.”

Pacer made an incredulous grimace which was interrupted by a cough. 

“Fuck!” He turned away from Wyatt to continue coughing. 

The pain that flashed across his face made Wyatt flinch. 

“Sorry,” Pacer offered hoarsely. 

“That looked like it hurt.” Wyatt placed a hand on Pacer shoulder. 

“Yeah, it caught me by surprise. We don’t have time for this.”

Wyatt followed Pacer to the bike and they made a hasty retreat. Back on the road they had been travelling on, they resumed their course at top speed. Before Pacer had steered them any great distance a series of barks echoed from somewhere behind them. 

The boys navigated over dirt road and then turned onto a paved one in the hopes of gaining some speed. After a few minutes of this the bike emitted a beeping sound. 

“Oh shit!” Pacer croaked. 

“What?”

“We’re outta juice.”

Not a minute later the bike simply dead, coasting to a stop. Up ahead was only an old barn for cover, nowhere else to hide. Not that hiding was much of an option with a dog on their tale. Pacer dismounted and started to spring ahead looking around. Wyatt followed but was already resigned to whatever fate was closing in on them. 

Suddenly the sound of hooves on pavement alerted them to a rider behind them.  In fact a second rider rounded the corner and followed suit and as they closed the distance the gallop slowed to a trot. Pacer was eyeing the strangers closely when Wyatt caught movement up ahead. 

Another rider appeared from out of the tall grass near the barn. Wyatt hadn’t spent a lot time around horses but this horse was definitely a striking animal. One side of this body was a shimmering auburn with the odd white patch while the other side was nearly all white except for a small patch under the eye. 

“Damn it!” Pacer muttered when he noticed the third rider. “No sense in running now, they’re armed.”

That when Wyatt noticed the pistol at the riders side. There was also a rifle sticking out of a saddle bag and a couple of knives strapped across the riders chest under a tanned leather vest adorned with beads and feathers. His bare arms and abdomen were marked with some sort of charcoal paint as was his face. That’s when Wyatt second guessed himself. The riders facial features were strong and gentle at the same time. Their hair was braided in one side and left long and loose on the other, a medium  brown that shimmered much like the horses coat. The way their body moved fluidly as the horse did. Power and graceful. 

When the rider stopped Wyatt he was surprised how close they were.

“Why have you come here?” The voice was soft and low, but carried on the slight breeze. Pacer turned and addressed the rider but the whole time they spoke the rider was eyeing Wyatt, right up until Pacer started to cough. Those dark eyes shifted over to scrutinize. 

Wyatt watched as those handsome features remain all but still. The dark brows furrowed a fraction and the corner of the mouth twitched slightly. The sound of Pacer’s coughing fit pushed Wyatt to act. 

“A safe place to rest and heal,” he placed a hand over Pacer’s chest as if to magically dispel the coughing. “That’s all we need.” 

The rider signalled curtly with a raised hand—the other riders must have reacted to Wyatt’s action but he remained focused on the one facing him. The horse neighed and tossed its mane. It turned exposing more of its brilliant white which made Wyatt squint as it reflected the sun. 

“I’m willing to let you pass but…” the rider leaned forward and patted the horses neck gruffly. “Saksun here thinks we should actually help you.”

The boys were surprised and a little confused. They glanced at each other briefly  effortlessly the rider spoke again.

“Stay here. I’ll speak to my cousins.”

The rider nudged the horse and they trotted off around the boys and the bike the short distance towards the other two. All three were quite obviously of indigenous descent, though one of the other two had much lighter hair. Both more masculine in physique, one was fully bare-chested with tattoos and a few piercings. As they conversed, the man openly regard the boys with distrust. Flanking him was a very alert dog that was also watching them.”

“Hey, good job there. What do you think they’re saying?” Pacer covertly said when he conveniently scratched his nose. 

“Hmmm,” was all that Wyatt responded with. He was watching the backside of the rider who had addressed them. The wind was tugging at the long strands playfully.

“Why don’t you have a horse?” Wyatt suddenly asked. 

“What? I mostly use horses on hunting trips, not solo trips. Besides, horses are a lot of work.”

“Horses are a lot of work,” the first rider said, returning. “But so is any animal worth having a bond with.”

Those dark eyes flitted between Wyatt and Pacer a few times before continuing with an air of authority. 

“You will follow us. We will allow you to stay with us at our outpost tonight. You will rest and we will share some medicine.”

“But we might—” Pacer went silent when the rider raised a hand. 

“What are your names?”

“Pacer.”

“And I’m Wyatt.”

“You may call me Avery. My cousins, Jasper and Ulysses.” Avery gestured to the fair-haired one and then tattooed one in turn. 

Wyatt waved and smiled while Pacer gave each of them a polite nod. 

“Come with us. It won’t be long.”