Through the huddled and the homeless, the scavenger saw a gem. The coveted prize of a collector, forever beyond him… And out amongst the huddled, amongst the masses and the poor, he saw something even brighter, a man who was adored.
As Felix lumbered through the snow, a series of small black pillars caught his eye.
Smoke.
Felix halted… Plutarco halted… the trees stopped swaying.
The two men stood, shoulder to shoulder, silently searching for an invisible city.
Plutarco spoke, “You think that’s Rio Rico?”
Felix responded, “Don’t know if we made it that far south…”
Plutarco let out a grunt, before continuing to tread forward.
Felix quickly followed.
With every step, the smoke grew ever larger. Soon they began to hear sounds, voices, animals and the most recognizable… a diesel.
The two wretched marched forward.
The diesel grew louder.
The two wretched continued to walk.
There were two diesels.
The two men started to run.
There was a fleet of diesels.
The two men crested a ridge.
No diesel in sight.
Abruptly, a large diesel pickup roared past the two men, before sliding to a halt on the poorly maintained and lightly snowed road.
One of the men in the back shouted, “Out of the road, scum!”
The two wretched glanced at one another before their ears were overwhelmed by a column of trucks and other motor vehicles.
They both instinctively launched themselves onto the side of the road seconds before a column of blue-uniformed soldiers drove by.
Felix stood.
Plutarco remained on the floor.
The two wretched watched.
A black semi passed. On it was a man. A man with a black suit, a small felt hat, and a large, silver-plated pistol.
For a moment, the eyes of the man noticed that of Felix.
The column passed.
Plutarco stood and stepped next to Felix.
The two men watched the column, then followed the road beyond the ridge.
As they approached the settlement, they saw tens of shanty towns, camps and shacks dotting the landscape surrounding it. The settlement itself consisted of a wall made of earth with a wooden palisade on top, gates made of brick rubble, a series of pre-incineration houses, and a great adobe palace between a church and a white structure.
Felix muttered, “Rio Rico…”
Plutarco responded at a regular volume, “Who the hell you think passed us?”
Felix turned, “The governor?”
Plutarco laughed, then responded, “In a fine black suit and felt cap? You think the conqueror of Arizona would even have the gall to wear such finery after the 2072?”
Felix snorted.
The two men resumed their walk.
The closer they got closer to the city, they began to see people. But not the city’s people.
Men and women wearing bright-grey hats, beggars, the starving… many huddled over fires.
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As the two wretched stared with their two eyes at these people, the inhabitants staired back with their pairs. Some looked angry, others sympathetic.
With the city's nearest gate in sight, Plutarco put his face close to Felix and asked, “So… what’s your plan here?”
Felix responded, “Find work maybe… maybe just clear my head first…”
Plutarco laughed, “Right… find work in the city we were supposed to be fighting against… Then again, can’t say I have anything better.”
Felix spoke again, “Perhaps it’d be best to get enough money to pay the fare for a ride to Nogales…”
Plutarco chuckled, “You mean to say that you walked from Green Valley to Rio Rico, but can’t walk to Nogales?”
Felix spat at Plutarco, “You mean enter the territory of one of the Five Fingers of the Hand… by foot? Even if the ride is forty minutes, it’s safer than walking alone.”
Plutarco retorted softly, “Well… if the merchants can do it all the time…”
Felix glanced at him before stating, “Do you think we look like merchants?”
Plutarco glanced at his clothing and kept his mouth shut.
The two wretched halted, staring at a gate that stared back. Not a guard in sight…
Felix then turned toward the nearest camp but didn’t see what he had seen on the periphery. No huddling around fires nor beggars nor refugees. Instead, he saw a crowd.
Plutarco tapped Felix on the shoulder and whispered into his ear, “Don’t think getting entry will happen with their help, let’s try and speak with someone inside.”
Felix faced the gate again. There was no one visible, neither standing before it nor upon the rampart on top.
Plutarco then picked up a small stone and threw it over the gate.
A distinctive clack was heard on the other side, but no response.
He picked up another, but soon as we as going to throw, a woman and two blue-uniformed soldiers stood upon the rampart, gazing down at them angrily.
The woman was grey-haired and aged but was clearly taller and stronger than the soldiery flanking her.
The ox-woman let out a gruff retort, “Back off, citizens and merchants only…”
Suddenly, the ox-woman then leaned downwards, and seeing the two wretched then said, “Rebel scum! Gave you runts a tussle didn’t we! Something about your officers being dead! Hah! What made you dumb enough to join Eduardo in the first place! It doesn’t matter now I suppose. Anyways, fuck off, I see you hear again, I am going to shoot you myself…”
Felix and Plutarco backed away slowly before Felix whispered, “Perhaps the crowd is our better option.”
Plutarco craned his head toward the crowd, then assented with a nod.
Approaching the crowd, they heard nothing. The crowd stood silently, an amorphous, black-colored shape, forming some kind of circle.
Felix and Plutarco slowed.
The crowd remained motionless.
The two wretched then stopped just before the crowd, and a single face turned from it.
The face slowly lifted a finger with its hand and placed it before its mouth. It signaled silence.
After a few moments of silence, suddenly Felix heard noise, Plutarco heard Latin.
Felix gazed with confusion as hundreds of hands emerged from the black mass, clasped together for prayer.
The crowd lowered itself, and the two wretched saw the center. An open casket and lying inside was a man wearing bishop’s cloths. They had approached a funeral.
The two wretched stared blankly, before kneeling out of imitation.
Suddenly a high-pitched man dressed in the clothing of a priest decried, “May he be eternally celebrated on Earth as he shall be in the Kingdom of Heaven. For he adored and cared for his flock as greatly as the Lord above. For all of you that have gathered here on this day, this shall be your last opportunity to see him before he is lain to eternal rest. May you be orderly and give him great thanks as he would have to any of you.”
Rapidly, the amorphous shape turned into a thousand bodies, all rapidly forming a line.
As the mourners queued, some with tears upon their faces, Felix walked forward, standing at the back of the line.
Plutarco stayed back, watching.
The line slowly progressed along a cacophony of sniffles and wails. Who could be so great a person to cause so many to attend their funeral?
Then, Felix saw the man. Felix analyzed the corpse and rested his eye on the man’s face.
The man wore an eyepatch. He was wretched.
Tears quickly rolled down the right side of Felix’s face.
Felix quicky spun around, wiped his face with his sleeve, and returned to Plutarco.
As the two wretched prepared to leave, a black-dressed woman tapped Felix’s shoulder.
The black-dressed woman asked them in a whisper, “Are you new hear?”
Plutarco responded quietly, “Came from up the road.”
The black-dressed woman then said, “Based on your faces, I think I already know where you came from. Why come here? Why not return home to your families?”
Felix responded, “Heading for Nogales. Need to find a scav company.”
The black-dressed woman shook her head, before whispering, “You won’t find many friends here, nor people willing to take you. You can stay in the shelters tonight. After that, you’ll need to make space for others.”
“What others?” Felix asked.
The black-dressed woman responded, “Mayor del-Campo recently led his men to raid Helvetia, there will be more refugees soon.”
The two wretched remained silent.
The woman then turned, motioned the wretched to follow, then started walking.
The wretched started walking.
After roughly ten minutes, they reached a series of tents some ten minutes away from the walls. Therein, they could see tens of men and women huddled by fires. Others were strewn upon on mats, bedrolls and sleeping bags.
The two men gazed at the site, before situating their two eyes on the woman.
The black-dressed woman turned to them and said, “Be gone by tomorrow.” Then she walked away.
The wretched slowly approached the tents.
Plutarco entered the least-filled looking and sat upon the floor. He pushed his hair aside and attempted to sleep.
Felix approached him and quietly whispered, “What are you doing?”
Plutarco shifted his head and responded, “We have been walking two days. Perhaps now we should clear our heads like you wanted.”
Felix asked, “When did I saw ‘we’?”
Plutarco snorted, closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.
Felix gazed into the tent, crawled over those already in it, and joined him in rest.
