Scattered Ashes

By Chris Traister and Tanar Dial

The United States is gone. After a cataclysmic disaster buries the entire country in volcanic ash, the citizens of America have become controlled by the confederation of Africa, China, and Russia, now known as The Archa Alliance. In the small Texas town of Huntsville, the people must dig through the ash for raw materials, trading them for credits and the chance of leaving the American wastelands forever.

Two diggers, young, brash Nate and his adopted guardian Abraham, are the best digging crew in town, trying desperately to earn enough credits for passage across the ocean to the Archadia. But when disaster strikes on their way from a dig, Nathan develops superhuman powers, giving him the chance to save his town and people from their hopeless life.

An explosive sci-fi adventure through post-apocalyptic Texas, Scattered Ashes is a runaway train of action and adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Traister
• Release date: May 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301942176

Chris Traister

Telling stories since the 2nd grade (most of them based on real characters),Chris is an aspiring advertiser who dabbles in writing, carpentry, and faux-gourmet meals. When he isn't reading comic books or destroying others at board games, he likes to daydream or scribble out thoughts on paper plates. Not the foam ones, they don't carry ink as well.You can find Chris on twitter @christraister or follow his blog (remember, he dabbles) ctraister.wordpress.comChris lives in Dallas, TX with his wife who is out of his league and their dog/child, Parker.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The wheezing was a natural alarm. The old man’s coughs echoed from the room next door, and as Nate lay in his bed, the sounds erased any comfort his bed gave him: first, the labored wheezing breath. Then, the wet, phlegmy, hacking that dried up and became short, sharp heaves. The heaves pushed the air from the old man’s lungs and left him gasping for air, his breathing stopping momentarily. Nate could see Abe's black face redden as the blood pooled in his cheeks, making his eyes bloodshot and his mouth hang open. And then, he sucked in air and began the whole process all over again. Some people woke to the sun or their lover’s touch. Nate woke to this, every morning.

He didn’t blame the old man. It wasn’t his fault, at least not really. It wasn’t most people’s faults that they had ash lung, but it was something they had to live with. Better them than me, Nate thought as he laboriously opened his eyes, expecting a bright light to wash over him from the doorway. It didn’t happen. This was about the time every morning when, after his coughing fits, Abe would open Nate’s door and tell him to get his lazy ass out of bed. Nate was too busy thinking about that to hear the hobbled footsteps and the squeak of the doorknob as the door crept open.

Get your lazy butt out of bed. Abe rasped

I see you’re getting late in your old age. And also, what happened to ass? And please?

Please give me an excuse to beat your lazy ass. There. Is that better? Now get up, we have another day ahead of us.

Right, because no two days are exactly the same. Oh wait. THEY ARE! Nate had to yell the last part as Abe had already left the room and waddled down the hall.

Nate slid out of bed and looked around to get his bearings. His off white room had chipped paint everywhere and the rust seeped out of the ceiling like someone had squeezed the walls too hard at one time and found a brown-red center. His room kept looking more and more like a murder house and less like a real house.

Nate grabbed his work clothes. Grey coveralls with a grey long sleeved shirt and a grey grey grey. Everything was grey, and at one time Nate could have sworn they were white, but because of the residual ash and amount of dirt and dust that was thrown in the air, these clothes would never see the white of day again.

Nate half stumbled down the hall, yawning and scratching at the same time until he passed into the bathroom and woke up a little bit more. The bathroom routine was the same: crack a glow stick, (no one wasted energy rations on bathroom activities), brush the teeth with dirty water, and wipe clean everything else. After all the years he spent scavenging in the wastes, he was pretty sure a layer of permanent dirt had adhered itself to his skin, never allowing him to be fully clean and pretty again. Nate changed and headed toward the kitchen/bedroom. Because they lived in a converted prison, space wasn’t all that a commodity, so in his attempt to ease the ever growing tension between the two of them, Abe had settled for the off white of the kitchen and had given Nate his own room. It was a nice gesture, but was really lost on someone he wasn’t even related to. This was obvious because, well, Nate wasn’t nearly as dark as Abe, and it certainly wasn’t because of the sun.

What’s for breakfast? Nate yawned as he wiped the remaining sleep from his eyes Did you feed the light bugs already? They seem brighter this morning. Nate pointed to the various jars around the kitchen that held large flying insects the size of his thumb. The large ones were somewhat rare, so you had to catch or buy quite a few and make sure they were taken well care of, lest you brave the dangers of night and capture more. They glowed brightly from their ends as if they were stuffed with the goo that filled the glow sticks that Nate traded for so often.

Only once did he ever break a glow stick open to see what was inside and, as a trick, made one of the other salvagers drink it, telling him that it would give him glowy powers. Of course the ensuing vomiting got him in trouble with Abe who scolded him and locked him in his room for a day, going off on a dig by himself and coming home empty handed. It was at that moment that Nate realized Abe needed him way more than he needed Abe. Of course he wasn’t about to spill the beans to Abe about that. At least not yet. He intended to save that one for a doozy of a fight.

Well we have a nice mushroom risotto with a beef tartar and lightly oiled crostini. Abe proudly spoke as he wheeled the plates around and set them on the table.

This looks like slop, Nate proclaimed through a scrunched up face And what the hell is beef?

Of course it's slop. It’s the same Archan-issued Standard Living and Ocupational Protein mess we always eat. Beef was made from an animal called cow, way before your time. This slop gives you enough strength and protein to work during the day. Plus you need to put some muscle on those scrawny arms of yours, so eat up! Abe used air quotes when he said slop.

Nate wasn’t that scrawny, at least not compared to most kids at twenty-four. Sure, he had scrawny hair, but that was because of the dirt which made his hair more or less a mud color instead of the natural lighter mud color it truly was. He was tall, over six feet, and had a thin frame from working in the wastes. Although compared to Abe, he was a string bean. Abe stood at a towering five foot six and was built like a square. The only thing that wasn't square was the round, bald dome Abe called a head. His stark white hair on the sides of his head gave him the appearance of a turtle with its shell sticking out of the snow.

They sat in relative silence for a few minutes; the only sound was the sloshing of slop between their teeth. Why don’t we not work today? It would be a good excuse to get out and maybe head south for the fun of it. Watch the ships leave port. When was the last time we actually had fun, Abe?

The last time I had fun was when I was six… Abe trailed off like he normally did whenever he was remembering his past. He hadn’t spoken much about it to Nate, but when Abe crinkled his eyebrows and forehead slightly like that, Nate knew that whatever happened probably wasn’t something anyone wanted to talk about. Therefore Nate never pushed it.

Don’t you think that means you’re due? You’re not getting any younger, so why not live it up for once?

Look, Nate. Abe set down his spork and looked Nate in the eyes, which could only mean one thing: lecture time. The reason we can’t take a break. The reason we have to work all day every day is so that we can get off this godforsaken piece of charred land while we still have a chance. You and I both know that there is nothing for us here but complacent misery, and I for one want better than that. Not just for me, but for you too. You deserve better than that, whether you think you do or not. So, no Nate, we can’t just take a day off. Not until we buy our way overseas and get out of this hell hole they used to call America.

CHAPTER 2

After a quick rinse of the dishes, Abe and Nate gathered what they hadn’t left at the Pit: hard hats, glow rods, lunches, respirators, and Abe's oxygen mask. They stuffed them into their backpacks and stepped out of the main door into the world.

It was hot and sticky. Nate couldn’t understand why it was still so hot with the sun blocked out most of the time. The cloud cover resembled cut wood, the waves of clouds flowing and ebbing so close to each other that they allowed only slivers of light to come through, and instead of browns and whites, it was dark grey with less dark grey. There were moments Nate was pretty sure he was color blind. That, or whoever lived above was playing a mean trick on the world by putting a grey tone over everything. Even the real colors, the reds and greens, had a grey hue to them.

Nate took a hard left out of the door and ran down the stairs. At the bottom he turned around to see Abe just reaching the top and slowly making his way down. Nate could tell that although Abe had to work all day, he wasn’t in much of a hurry to get there. That and too much moving caused his ash lung to spark up throwing him into fits of coughing and wheezing.

Ash lung had affected about a third of the population after everything settled. The amount of radiated ash that was in the air and on the ground couldn’t be fully contained and those who didn’t know better, or who couldn’t escape it were the ones who ended up carrying the burden of it. The lungs were coated in a thin layer of radiated ash. Depending on how long you were exposed to it really determined the severity of it. Abe had only ran through it for a small window of time, but it was enough to mess up his respiratory system ever since.

Will you ever learn to wait for me? Abe wheezed, obviously a jab at his young counterpart.

Look, old man, I didn’t leave you, so you don’t have to worry about anything. We’re partners remember? Abe huffed at that comment

I may be old, but I’m still your ticket out of here. Don’t forget that.

They slowly left the prison/home together and walked past the front gate. Nate could see the rest of the town spread about slightly below him. Small houses scattered the landscape. They were tattered and dirty like someone had dumped an ocean of sand on them and then tried to clean them up, but got bored halfway through. A few of the houses had little gardens in the back yards full of the few crops that would grow in this arid, quasi waterless waste: cacti mostly, but a few had carrots and potatoes spread around. One of the houses even had a strawberry patch somehow and every once in a while, Nate would save something from his work rations just to get a few. Of course, if Abe found out he was using his rations on fruit and not on credits for the ship, he would go ballistic.

NATE! OH NATE! It was Stella, the lady who owned the strawberry farm. She was tall and haggard with wispy yellow hair that stuck out of the bottom of her chewed up sun hat. When are you going to stop by and try out my new crop of strawbabies? She always had a way of making everything cute, which was her way to cope with life out here. Just because it wasn’t bright, didn’t mean you don’t have to be, she told Nate on several occasions.

What in the sam hell is she talking about? Abe glared at him from the side.

Now now, Stella, didn’t I tell you I'd come back as soon as I could? Tell you what, I’ll be through here day after tomorrow to sample some of those new straw-babies, you keep hollering about. Nate was talking through his teeth, faking a smile because Stella had blown his cover.

Why thank ya, Nate, and maybe next time you could bring your handsome friend there with you? Abe turned five shades of red and started looking at the ground.

You got it Stella, see you then. Nate grabbed Abe and started their jaunt down the hill and towards the train station.

CHAPTER 3

Nate and Abe made their way through the prison towards the train station. A walk that normally took Nate five minutes turned into a twenty minute creep with Abe. While Nate was in no hurry to get to work, he still felt anxious about getting there. If he could work at his full potential he would, and having something hold him back made Nate antsy. He struck up a conversation with Abe to pass the time.

You know what I really hate about going to work? Nothing ever changes. It’s always the same, there's no variety.

Abe snorted. What kind of variety are you looking for out there in the wastes? Naked pole dancers? A cheer squad? A naked pole dancing cheer squad? Nate’s eyes shot up at that remark and Abe continued. We have to fight coyotes and the elements on a regular basis and you complain about variety? You never cease to shock me, boy. Nate grinned and kept pressing.

I know we have to deal with all of that, but it’s still the same thing. Every day I know I’m going to have to fight a coyote, or hold my breath for ten whole minutes so the ash doesn’t get inside of me. For once I’d like to not deal with that. For once I’d like to be able to dig up a spaceship or a skyscraper and be able to get out of here in one fell swoop. Nate was referring to pictures he saw in one of Abe’s old magazines he had salvaged.

You and me both, Nate, but until then, it has to be the same; we’ll dig out some ash, we'll dig out some metal, and we'll dig out some junk. We'll get a lot of ash and that'll help rebuild some damaged house or build some new storage units. We'll send the metal to Archa like we always do and they'll give us the credits we need to get out of here eventually. Abe looked away from Nate and kept his eyes focused on the road ahead. He spoke in a slow, measured, low tone that made everything he said sound like a sermon. He was old and jaded, but that didn't mean he could be ignored.

One thing I wish someone had told me when I was your age is that every day’s a mystery, even when it's the same damn thing, so keep your eyes peeled and your ears open, and you may find that spaceship just yet. Nate could see Abe grin from the corner of his eye.

Do you know something I don’t, old man? Did you find something secret out at the Pit and haven’t told me about it yet? Nate’s grin was a full blown smile as Abe had a tendency to surprise him with little things.

A gentleman would never tell, son, but maybe, just this once, it won’t be a day like any other. Nate had stopped walking and was now glaring at Abe, his mouth slightly agape.

Holy shit. You did it, didn’t you? You found the mother lode?! Nate’s voice echoed over the area.

Abe stopped this time, just a few feet ahead. Nate's plan to make the time pass quicker had probably added fifteen minutes to the walk.

You need to pipe down! The last thing we need is Eddie hearing what we've got planned, and stealing away our find again. You remember last time when we found that---

Wheezy! Are you and your boy talking about me again? Nate and Abe looked left and saw Eddie. He was short and fat with mangy hair sprouting around his smirking face. "Let me guess. You're telling 'The Tale of the Stolen Statue,' a heart wrenching saga of how Texas' best digging crew, mine, once again swiped a valuable trinket from the bumbling crew of Wheezy and Nut. Eddie clutched his hands to his chest. It was a beautiful summer day. The sun was shining, the air was brisk, and a dying old man wheezed---"

All right, dammit, you shut your mouth up right now. By now they had reached the train station, and Nate's shouting made everyone turn in their direction. "You're a thief and a crook, and a rotten S.O.B.. That statue would have put us a