The Shadowless: The Dadirri Saga, #3

By Ty Carlson

The Everstorm is merciless—the people who live beneath it are even worse.

 

The earth has become a wasteland as a result of humanity's mistreatment. The sky has been dark for as long as anyone can remember, covered in an infinite roiling mass called The Everstorm. There are no trees. There is no hope. Unless, of course, you're one of the privileged who live in the protected cities beneath the domes. In these cities, there are trees, parks full of vibrant grass, and even waterfalls—all thanks to the solar energy harvested by those who have no choice but to brave the Everstorm.

 

Shipley Boden is a low-life working his way into the good graces of the Citizens, hoping one day to be allowed a living space beneath the protective dome. But when he stumbles upon an orphaned girl in the ruins of the past, he decides to deliver her to the nearest settlement and be done with it. When Shipley runs afoul of violent marauders who call themselves The Red Kings, he must draw upon all the knowledge he's gained. Only now, he has a little girl to think about.

• Language: English
• Publisher: 4 Horsemen Publications
• Release date: May 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798823201117

Book preview

Dedication:

To Zack and Amanda, who are some of the best people on the planet. Who knew all those years ago that your friendship would change my life? I love you both dearly.

Acknowledgements:

First and always to my wife. This was an especially hard season, and I’m blessed beyond words to be your husband. Thank you for being a source of joy and contentment in a world full of distractions. I love you until forever and a day. Second to my kids, who provided the dream that caused The Shadowless to become more than a wisp of a thought. To my editors, Jen and Laura, who don’t shy away from telling me how things can be better. You make me a better writer, and I’m here for it. Finally to my writing group who, thanks to a crazy year, have only heard the first chapter, but whose feedback was immensely valuable. Thank you for building me up and encouraging me to continue to write, even on the days when it’s hard.

Prologue

The clouds above the wasted red landscape boiled and writhed like angry serpents. Black and gray mixing and twisting, an inverse, never-ending undulating sea. It hadn’t changed since yesterday. Or the day before. As far back as she could remember, the sky had been a perpetual, angry twilight. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the sound reverberated through the ground beneath her metal stool and briefly distorted the music from an old-fashioned jukebox in the corner that had been refashioned to work from so lar cells.

Allie Guiterrez sat and stared out of the murky window set crookedly in a ramshackle building lit by propane lamps. The lamps hung from metal hooks in the ceiling and along the wall, casting their dull amber light across the drawn and haggard faces of the two dozen strangers that frequented Dig’s Bar. Some sat at the bar to either side of her, sipping their liquor quietly. Others sat in the iron booths that lined the walls from dim corner to dim corner. The rest milled about, playing card games for money or sharing stories. Ol’ Spence was at one table with a crowd gathered around him. He was telling a story to those foolish enough to listen about a time when people could fly in giant tubes and would travel through the sky and into the darkness beyond. Allie smiled at the group, but her gaze didn’t linger. Instead, her eyes settled on the largest crowd of a dozen or so people, huddling around an old radio that crackled and popped.

The group of men and women were all leaning toward it, listening intently or speaking in hushed tones to avoid interrupting the broadcast. The people might have different colored skin, but the clothes they wore matched the landscape outside—ruddy brown, gray, and black—except for the jeans, which miraculously never lost their blue hue. Allie couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, or even what the radio was spouting, but she was sure they were relating news about the multitude of wars ravaging the planet and which world leaders had been assassinated.

At this rate, she thought ruefully, maybe they’ll all be gone in a few years, and we’ll finally get some peace.

Somebody shut that shit off, said a gruff voice near the radio.

Immediately, the jukebox went silent along with every conversation in the bar, and the only sound heard was the crackly, distantly tinny voice coming from the radio speakers.

There doesn’t seem to be any change in the wind patterns, either. The wind from the poles continues on as it always has, and the bulk of activity within the Everstorm continues to circulate toward the equator. We anticipate it to continue past the equator later this season until rebounding back into the Northern Hemisphere later in the year.

The radio crackled and popped.

There may be isolated spots of sunlight when the winds whip themselves into a Black Eye, but those will be rare. We’ll of course update everyone with Everstorm updates as we see them. Stay tuned, and thanks for listening to Denali City Radio.

The patrons in the bar relaxed, disappointment and frustration palpable in the place. A bottle went spinning through the air to shatter against the wall, followed by a string of cursing by both the thrower and the people near the liquid that was dripping down the wall.

The jukebox started up again and so did most of the conversation as the interruption was forgotten.

Allie had lived on Earth for nearly twenty years. She’d read some books—those that could be found here and there—and agreed with most of the town that they were fairy tales. Green grass, blue sky with white clouds, all of it was unreal and to her eyes, unseen. Maybe it had been real at some point in the distant past. Only the old timers said they remembered a time without the Everstorm, but her Pa said they were probably too little even then; it had to be close to a hundred and fifty years since there were green plants.

Pa said the Everstorm came because people stopped caring about the planet. He said that the Everstorm was the punishment for our misuse of her. The old timers said the Everstorm was the consequence of launching missiles and bombs at each other, and the Everstorm woke up and leaked out when the bombs cracked the planet open.

Allie thought all of that was bullshit, but Pa had been right about a lot of things, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he was right about this, too.

She paid her tab with three zip-ties and a metal chain of ten links she’d found in the hills. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dev.

The bartender, a rough-cut boy with a handsome jaw and hair that covered his face most of the time, looked at her and waved. His eyes found her payment, and he frowned.

Allie, I told you I ain’t taking no zip-ties no more! Get back here and pay with somethin’ I can use!

She shrugged and lifted a hand in a half-hearted goodbye, then turned away from him. His angry protests faded as she walked out of the bar and into the gritty wind. She pulled the kerchief she kept around her neck up to cover her mouth and nose and squinted against the grit that peppered her skin.

Cassville hadn’t changed much in the time she’d been alive. Sure, people came and went, but it hadn’t ever had the misfortune of getting hit by a Black Eye, something that not every settlement could claim.

The Black Eyes were dangerous, a blight upon the world, but they offered the one thing that everyone needed: a chance at sunlight. It was harvested by massive diesel-powered trucks with giant solar fins. The Harvesters drive toward the Black Eye—and the sunlight splashing across the gound in its wake—open their fins, and soak it up.

She stared at the massive machines across the way. The Harvesters sat unused at a barn nearby, their giant gray hulks dark and still. The solar arrays were folded and closed on their backs, like those stone turtles she sometimes saw outside of town. Having been diesel trucks before the Everstorm, they sat in a barn unused for decades she’d been told. But when the Everstorm hid the sun, things that ran on solar power—which was almost everything—stopped working. Of course, there were backup batteries installed, but without the power grids, those were useless, too. The Everstorm had knocked out most of the power grids in the world. And what the Everstorm hadn’t knocked out, the humans had done a damn fine job of knocking out themselves.

She kicked a rock down the path and waved to one of the old timers sitting in front of the General Store. He waved back and while his eyes were bright, his jowls locked his mouth into a scowl. A little girl was browsing the shelves that Allie could see through the window, her hand holding tightly to the hand of a tall man who was conversing with another.

The little girl turned and waved, but Allie had already begun to walk on.

Large wooden posts lined the street, her shadow stretching before her and then behind her before another appeared. After the sun went down, the Lighter would come out and ignite the kerosene lamps. Then, whether or not everyone had made their way home, he’d snuff ’em out after a couple of hours. It seemed like a waste to her, but the workers in the Dunes needed to be able to see their way back, especially if the Everstorm kicked up a Sandstorm like it does now and then.

She walked on, but no matter where she looked, it was all the same. Always the same. Rocks and red dirt. Every day.

Well, night and day weren’t really a thing anymore, though. The Everstorm made the whole world darker. The sun was up there; she’d seen it once or twice, but the Storm made it so that it wasn’t what anyone would call daytime but for about eight hours. In some seasons, it was even shorter, but other times it was longer. And daytime was used loosely. It was either very dark or kind of dark, and the lighter of the two they called day.

The wind began to pick up, and she heard that distant rumble again, only closer. The hem of her button-down flannel flapped in the wind and her hair whipped around her. After a second’s hesitation, she pulled it back into a ponytail using the string on her wrist.

A shout from behind her made her turn quickly and she saw the bar emptying of people, all of them running and tripping their way over each other. Some made for the Harvesters while others ran toward the residences, all of them waving their arms and shouting at the top of their lungs.

A young boy ran by and she grabbed his arm. It was Gordon Beck’s kid, Jed or Jep. He skidded to a halt, his blonde hair whirling around his head. He scowled at her and began impatiently jerking his arm away.

Lemme go!

What’s goin’ on?

Get off me, lady!

I’ll let go when you tell me what’s goin’ on.

He huffed and stared daggers at her. The radio just popped off that a Sunspot was coming. The Storm formed a Black Eye over at Hollow Rock, and it’s headed this way. Now, let me go! I gotta get home!

He wrenched his arm free at the same time she released it. The result was a stunned yelp as the kid sprawled in the dust at her feet. He dusted himself off and kicked dirt at her before running off, which made her laugh, the little bastard.

If a Black Eye was coming this way, she’d better find shelter. She wasn’t able to drive a Harvester, so she knew that Pa would need help at the house. The Harvesters were safe enough for people who braved the Storm, but even some of the buildings weren’t built to withstand a Black Eye. Hollow Rock was only about twenty miles away and no doubt was probably hit pretty hard. She’d be surprised if any of their buildings were still standing.

Before she could take a step toward home, she felt a jolt of pain. A stone bounced at her feet, and she felt her shoulder where it must have clipped her. She looked around for the person that threw it, probably that little Beck kid. But there was no sign of him … or anyone else staring at her. Everyone else was either running toward home or climbing into the Harvesters, which is what she should have been doing. The rumble of the Storm was now joined by the guttural coughs of diesel engines, black smoke chugged and churned toward the skies to join the roiling black mass above them.

Another stone whizzed past, and she realized that the Storm was close … and the Black Eye was sending out these tiny bites of death. She heard the ping and crack of other stones as they hit the sides of buildings and posts. She ducked her head and rushed hurriedly into the General Store.

The old timer she’d seen on the front porch of the Store beckoned her toward the back where a cellar had no doubt been dug. There was no sign of the little girl or the man she’d been holding on to, her Pa, probably.

She made it two steps across the old wooden beams of the general store before shouts and screams from outside made her turn. She stared and could barely make out a thin black line running from the sky to the ground, as if a giant had drawn a line from cloud to ground. It was approaching town from the south, and she could just make out the Harvesters rumbling across the ground and lumbering their way out of town. She could see rocks zipping through the air and bouncing off the massive machines. The Black Eye was still a ways off, but even at this distance, she could see Harvesters chasing it, no doubt from both Hollow Rock in the South and Devil’s Spring to the Southeast.

Many of the Harvesters of Cassville were marked with strange symbols or make-believe animals. Most bore the angry black badger that had become Cassville’s mascot, but she knew that wouldn’t dissuade the Black Eye. Even now, many of the other Harvesters from other settlements were Sunning, their own mascots painted on the sides of their own Harvesters. Sunlight was rare and everyone knew there wasn’t enough to go around.

A billowing cloud of red dust was rising from the ground where the Black Eye had tread, swirling and obscuring much of the landscape. It was hard to pick out the Harvesters as they headed into it, but there was no mistaking the bright yellow that made the dustcloud shine in brilliant and blinding gold.

Sunlight.

Girl, you better get down here! That Eye’ll be here ’fore you know it!

She turned. The old timer was halfway out of the cellar waving her on.

I’ll be there in just a minute, she said, raising her voice over the roar of the wind. She turned, then, and walked to the front of the store, despite the old timer’s protests.

It had been several years since her last Sunning, and even then it had mesmerized her. Back then, the Harvesters worked better and the world was filled with more evil than now, but she didn’t need to really think about that. Cassville was just as good a town as any other, except without the rich folks wanting to push the poor folks further down.

She crouched low behind a window, hoping to avoid the stones that now flew through the air at lethal speeds. This Eye was bigger than the one she’d seen before. This one was massive.

Now that it was closer, she could glimpse the Harvesters of Hollow Rock and Devil’s Spring speeding behind it, their solar flaps open and shimmering in the sunlight that splashed across the ground. The massive tires of the machines bounced and rolled over the landscape, doing anything to match the speed of the Black Eye so their solar flaps could gather every last scrap of sunlight. The Eye might damage some of them, but the sunlight they’d catch and convert in the short time an Eye was grounded could keep a town running for a few months, maybe even a year or more if they were lucky.

It was dangerous, though. As she watched, one of the Harvesters of Cassville veered too close to the Eye’s vortex winds. The machine that couldn’t be lifted even if every man in Cassville tried at the same time now teetered on two of its giant wheels and then left the ground. It was graceful, in a way. But Allie knew those machines weighed several tons, and for the Eye to pick it up that easily meant this Eye was more dangerous than she’d originally thought.

The Harvester flew into the air and bent, twisting around the cone that was black as night and tore into several pieces that continued orbiting the black wind that swept across the horizon. The pieces flashed occasionally when the sunlight caught the metal just right.

The strange thing about Black Eyes and the horizon out in these parts is that people can never be sure how far away things are. That was the case with this particular Black Eye. One minute it was on the horizon and the next, the building across the street was being lifted into the sky.

Allie screamed and stood up, only to hunker back down when a thousand rocks and pieces of debris began pelting the wall she hid behind. Her hair lifted from her shoulders and whipped around her face. The irritating dust that her kerchief protected her against was useless as it was ripped from her mouth and disappeared into the growing blackness before her.

Girl! the old timer yelled, barely audible above the roar. She twisted her neck and saw him waving wildly at her. She gathered her resolve and then stood, intending to run to the old man and descend into the safety of the cellar.

Instead, the roof suddenly disappeared, and she stared up at a million miles of obsidian tempest.

She felt her feet begin to leave the ground, and she made a desperate leap for the cellar, but the old timer had already closed the hatch, her fingers grasped at empty air as her body was drawn up into the Everstorm.

Allie never landed … alive, anyway. The Everstorm picked her up and carried her a hundred miles through The Red Wastes. She was never found, and Cassville dried up a few weeks later, despite the Harvesters Sunning for an hour or so as they chased the massive twister before the Eye finally dissipated. Even with the Sunning, everyone knew that most of the sunlight that was harvested would be spent rebuilding the town, and that was a waste.

The men who made it back alive found their families, or what was left of them, and divvied out the sunlight they’d gathered. There was plenty, and for a few families it was more than they’d ever seen. But to most, it meant starting over somewhere nearby and spending it on a tiny hut and some food, trying to find work yet again.

This world was cruel, and people were ruthless. Without the sun, there wasn’t light to guide them.

There was only the Everstorm.

Chapter 1

Shipley Boden stood outside of his cargo truck next to the driver-side door. The tune he whistled was a harmless one, some mix of half-remembered lullabies and his own creative flair. His goal was to avoid making eye contact with anyone else waiting for entry, most notably the man in line behind him. The line of vehicles waiting to get into Denali City stretched far behind him, disappearing into the almost-dark of t he Waste.

Lee, as his friends and acquaintances called him, was next in line at the Entry Gate. Despite the Everstorm boiling above them, the air was hot and the wind offered no relief. He wore his black coat that fell past his knees, unbuttoned. A gray button-down shirt was tucked into a pair of jeans, which were tucked into large black leather boots.

The line to get into the City wasn’t anything new to him. This wasn’t the first time he’d sat in line at this gate. Not even close. Every time he’d come to Denali City, he’d waited just like everyone else. Once it was his turn, he’d say hello to one of two of the same Entrance Agents that rotated posts at this gate. They knew who he was, what he was, and why he was here. They’d pretend to look over his papers; maybe once or twice a month, they’d ask to see the back so no one got suspicious; they’d make a show of checking the back of his van, lifting this piece of cloth or looking beneath a rickety stack of metal; and then, they’d send him on his way into the City. It was the same song and dance every time, had been since Mr. Brecken hired him a few years ago.

Lee shifted his weight, knowing the man behind him was looking at him. It was a nervous habit he had, shifting his weight to appear disinterested. He stared at the arcs his boots made through the dirt, scuffing through a hundred different bootprints and tire tracks in the red dirt. He wasn’t usually nervous, but he was this time.

The guard at the gate checked someone else’s entry papers. They were only a few yards away, but this guard was unfamiliar. And unfamiliar meant new, and new was bad for someone in Lee’s profession. New meant that either the guards had been moved, killed, or released. The first wasn’t bad, he’d just go to that gate. Killed could be bad, but that just meant that Mr. Brecken would hire new guards that knew the song and dance. That last one, though … that possibility bothered him. If they’d been released, that meant that the Consulate had found some dirt on Mr. Brecken or the guards. If it was on Mr. Brecken, that would mean he’d passed the buck to them. They were expendable. They all were when it came down to it. But that meant that Lee was too, and Mr. Brecken wouldn’t protect him if the time came.

Lee could see the man behind him out of the corner of his eye. He was still looking in his direction, but Lee stared out at the Red Wastes and continued whistling a nameless tune, pretending for all the world to ignore him.

All it would take is this Nosy Nelly to mention a suspicion to this new Entrance Authority kid, who would look closer at his transportation credentials and cargo. Lee’d spend the rest of his dismal days in prison because no one in Denali would vouch for him, even though he was smuggling in supplies because they asked him to. If he went to prison, they may be out of supplies that Lee was supplying, but they’d also have the option of paying less to the next guy. This gig was a means to an end, anyway. His goal was that Mr. Brecken would offer him a place in Denali, and he would finally be safe from the Everstorm like the rest of the City denizens.

Denali, and cities like it, were home to more than just a few families. The City sprawled across dozens of acres and within the walls and shimmering dome that protected its Citizens from the Black Eyes that swept their way across the desolation outside of it. There were parks and trees and streams and buildings. Buildings with six or ten or even twelve stories, just like the old books told about. Of course, none of Denali’s were as big as those old buildings, like the ones he sifted through looking for salvage that were little more than the stone skeletons of colossal beasts. Those buildings had to have been dozens of stories tall. The tallest building he’d seen was here in Denali, and it was only fifteen stories high. Rumor had it that Sterling City over past the Jacknife Mountains had a building that was twenty stories high. People said that if you stood on the roof, you could run your hand through the dome it was so close.

He heard footsteps behind him and, from the corner of his eye, could see the staring man walking slowly in his direction. He began to gather himself to either completely ignore him or fight him off, but he was saved when the engine of the car ahead rumbled to life.

The small red car at the front of the line made the slow work of turning around. Lee squinted against the sudden brightness as its headlights slashed briefly across Lee’s vehicle and the rest of the line. It drove slowly back along the lines. The driver looked angry but resigned.

I feel that, Lee thought to himself.

The man behind had retreated, and Lee relaxed his shoulders a bit.

The Entry Agent at the Gate beckoned Lee forward, his green uniform standing out against the black gate and red dirt. Lee stepped into his vehicle and inched it forward several yards. He handed the stack of papers to the man and tried to flash an unconcerned smile at him. This was all normal, boring even. He’d done this a hundred times before. There’s nothing to worry about.

After several seconds of looking at the papers, beamlight held in a way that told Lee he’d done this hundreds if not thousands of times before, the Agent looked up at him.

What brings you to Denali, Mr. Boden?

He adopted a mild tone. Bringing a shipment of scrap metal to the Assembly District. Stumbled upon what looked like a few huts, figured I’d bring it in and see what I could get for it.

The guard frowned. There are plenty of Scrappers outside of Denali, probably pay better than the folks inside the Wall, too. What makes you think you’d be better off inside?

Lee’s heart began to beat faster, and his forehead beaded with sweat that had nothing to do with the heat.

I don’t know, figured the City would pay more. I drove through the Oil Rigs and hopped across three or four settlements, none of ’em needed the scrap and would pay more than a small battery for the lot. Just trying my luck out here, pal. He thought of something else that might just get him in. Even talked to Malachi over at Rooster before coming here. He’s the one that said I’d have better luck in the City.

The guard looked his papers and then over Lee’s shoulder, shining the light at his cargo van and then back at Lee, eyeing him suspiciously. I grew up in Rooster, and I don’t remember anyone named Malachi.

Lee shrugged his shoulders in a Look pal, I just work here kind of way then looked thoughtful. Malachi is who I talked to, but there was an old bald fella named, what was it, Jed? Jeff?

Jep?

Lee tried not to show the relief at making up the whole thing. There weren’t very many things that change out in the Wastes, and names is one of ’em. He’d learned that if he could make something up that at least reminds someone of the truth—especially a person’s description that wanes over the years—they’ll agree, even if it’s