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“Come on, girl, use your spurs.”
“I don’t have spurs! And I don’t think the horse would like being stabbed in the ribs either!”
He’s too far ahead of me to hear my objection. Orion’s horse is fast, its legs churning at the ground and sending him flying ahead of us all at a reckless rate. He rides incredibly well, moving with his mount in perfect synchronicity while I hold on for dear life and try to rise out of the saddle to let the horse do what it needs to do without my interference.
So this is the outlaw life. It is quite different from the petty criminal life I was forced to lead when I found myself alone in the world. I used to commit crimes just to survive. Stealing food, clothing, sometimes money when I could, that was my existence. I was desperate to survive, that’s why I committed crime.
But I don’t think that’s how Orion sees his crimes. There’s nothing desperate about him. He relishes being outside the law. He is so used to it, he doesn’t question anything he does. The way he dealt with the scammy tonic seller was a prime example of that. Orion is not a good man, but he is an effective one. I don’t know how, but he makes fleeing seem masculine and daring, whereas whenever I have had to run away, I’ve always felt as though it made me weaker.
Every time I look over my shoulder, the news my eyes deliver me is worse. We’re definitely being chased. The riders aren’t gaining on Orion, but they are gaining on me. Orion’s horse is fast. Too fast. He keeps pulling away from me, and there’s no way for me to keep up, a problem which gets worse with every stride as my mount tires.
I’m not the only one who notices that problem. Nor am I the one to solve it. Orion reins his horse back suddenly, a cloud of dust flying from the four-hoof stop.
“C’mere he says,” reaching out to yank me off the horse. I go flying through the air, safe in the mechanical grip of his powerful metal arm. He pulls me over his saddle, between his stomach and the pommel. This is not the most dignified way to ride a horse, with my hips acting as a fulcrum over which the rest of me flails.
“Hiyah!” Orion urges his horse on, and in an instant we snap into impressive motion.
I’ve never travelled this fast in my entire life. The ground is blurred as we pass over it, Orion’s mount getting somehow faster than ever before, stretching out into a powerful gallop. From this position, I can see the underside of the saddle, and can’t help but notice that this horse of his seems to have cooling vents in the underside. It’s like him. Mechanized. At least in part. I am guessing that much like his own mechanical arm, he won’t want to talk about it.
I have time to think, as I can do literally nothing else. It occurs to me that the reason he probably hates talking about his mechanical alterations is because they’re Imperium technology. It must feel like being a hypocrite to have two arms thanks to an Imperium technician. I don’t judge him for it though, you do what you have to do. And apparently what he’s done is taken what he needs from the Imperium while fighting against the rest of it. Some would say that makes him a hypocrite, but not me. Not while I’m depending on him for my survival, anyway.
I lose track of time and distance in the blur of speed. We could be racing another hour, or another day for all I know. The world is thundering hooves, hot sweat, and a mechanical hand keeping me firmly in place.
“WHOA!” He calls out, his horse skidding to another one of those dramatic halts which causes a cloud of dust to envelop us both. He guides it into a quick turn and we face back the way we came.
“Alright,” he says. “I think it’s safe to say we’ve lost them.”
I look around and wonder where the hell we’ve come. I’ve never been anywhere this lifeless before. A lot of Cabbage Patch is barren, but this takes it one step further. It is almost completely flat, aside from a few rocky outcroppings here and there which seem to stand in the same formations trees might in a normal landscape. There’s something unnaturally still about this location which gives me goosebumps. I think we got away by going somewhere sane people wouldn’t dare go.
“I think we’ve lost everyone. Where are we?”
“The desert of the damned, that’s what they call it. It’s salt and sand as far as the eye can see. Nothing can live here, but once every few dozen years it rains and fish eggs hatched in the brine all hatch at once. Makes the world dance for miles with the silver of their skin as they swim, mate, and lay eggs before they dry out and die.”
