Page 41 of The Pale Rider
It was contagious. I had been gung-ho to get there and start remembering too. But memory loss was tricky. Aeron couldn’t even tell me anything because of how it was done to me. My dreams were sporadic. I didn’t have them every night. Sometimes, they were pleasant and didn’t help me with this puzzle involving my father. Sometimes they were horrible nightmares about the experiments that were done on me when I was a child. I hated those dreams. Whatever they were trying to do, they needed me totally terrorized to do it.
I thought I would have a panic attack when I saw the sign we were entering Los Angeles. Aeron tightened his arm around my waist and nuzzled my neck. He seemed to know exactly what was going on with my lizard brain.
“It’s just an apartment, Speedy. Even if you don’t remember a thing, you can grab new clothes and some sketchpads. You can look around and see what kind of person you used to be, even if you don’t remember a thing. You’ve faced countless Rage Heads. Don’t be afraid of your old home.”
“I’m scared I will get there and it will not trigger anything. Or, what if triggers too much and I go crazy?”
“Do you trust me, Speedy?”
“Even though you won’t tell me your last name, I do.”
Aeron kissed the top of my head.
“I really don’t have a last name. Would you prefer I lie and make one up? If you don’t remember anything, ask questions, and I’ll try to answer what I can. If it’s getting to be too much, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and get you out of there.”
I saw a building up ahead. I knew that building. I was friendly with the doorman. He buzzed me in every day, and he was great about keeping roller derby and softball stalkers out of my building.
“That’s my building,” I said, pointing.
It looked like it survived the bomb blasts, but I think it must have been in better shape when I lived here before. Dirt covered all the windows, and the paint had faded and was flaking off. I couldn’t remember their names, but I think I had been on friendly terms with all of my neighbors.
“What happened to the other people that lived here?”
“Some of them turned into Rage Heads and were eventually killed when California came together. Your neighbor Miss Mabel is still next door. She has to be ninety, and she beat me with a broom when she saw me going into your apartment. Every time I come back through here and check on your place, she threatens me with it. Did you know brooms hurt when you get whacked on the head with one?”
I saw a flash. My next-door neighbor was like a surrogate mother to me. I picked up her cigarettes and Mountain Dew and visited with her after every softball game. She always had homemade cookies waiting and wanted to know all about my game. She’d also told me she knew people who could take care of the softball stalkers. From what I could remember about her, it would take more than some cannibal corpses and bombs to kill Miss Mabel. I was glad she was still here.
“What happened to Derrick, the doorman?”
“Well, I threatened the shit out of him to allow me inside when I realized you were missing, then I made him wet his pants, trying to question him who trashed your place. They did it without getting the broom treatment from Miss Mabel because I questioned her, too, when she stopped hitting me.”
“Is he still there?”
“He’s not. From what I understand, he died protecting the residents from a horde of Rage Heads before the gangs took to the streets and started fighting. Jade united all the gangs in California, and they’ve recruited. The new doorman is one of hers.”
“Is he going to give me shit?”
“Probably. Don’t give it back, or he won’t let you inside.”
Aeron stopped in front of the building, and we both dismounted. Meremoth did that running off thing. We were in a more urban part of the city, and I couldn’t imagine where a huge fucking horse would sleep for the night, but Aeron seemed to think it wasn’t a problem, and he already admitted he wasn’t a normal horse.
Aeron was right. The man at the door wasn’t someone I knew. I barely remembered Derrick, but I was sad he went out like that. I remembered us being friends. The man at the door must have been new because he didn’t recognize Aeron either. He barred our way carrying a substantial fucking machete.
“Residents only.”
“Her apartment is 5C.”
“Bullshit. I’ve been watching this building for five months, and I’ve never seen either of you.”
Aeron reached into one of his bags and pulled out his keyring. There was one of those fancy keys with a fox on it. The man at the door narrowed his eyes at it.
“Where have you been for the last five months, then?”
“Ariel?” I heard someone shriek. “Girl, get your ass over here and give an old woman a hug. I thought you were dead. George, push off. She lived here before all this, and I’ve been looking after her apartment. Aeron secured it after someone broke in. Let them in.”
“You know these people, Miss Mabel?”
“Yeah, I do. Let them in.”
