With fast hands, dropping his grandfather's staff, Josh found the pull tabs underneath his shirt and pulled. The water vest emptied onto his shirt and down his pants, soaking him completely as the water even came up and over his head. Cold and stale in taste, Josh spit the water out that found its way into his mouth.
Cannon did not respond except to pull out his tin of dust again, casually opening it. "Let's put it to the test, stray."
Josh stiffened and closed his eyes as Cannon took a handful of dust from inside the tin and with a flourish of the wrist, the dust came at him in a sparking cloud. Light but rapid pricks of pain struck his hands and face as the dust enveloped him. In his ears, he was certain he could hear pops but the assault hardly affected him. Eyes clenched shut for several seconds, Josh eventually opened them to see a smiling Cannon. A film of dust caked itself onto his body.
Cannon's eyebrows rose up. "Water works great but I still like to give a proper dusting just to let you know it doesn't make you invulnerable." He walked forward but just patted Josh on the shoulder as he passed to enter the mortuary. "Don't think you're safe just because Anson welcomed you. You're still an outsider...and I like making people like you suffer the fool's attempt at fixing what can't be fixed."
Josh stood alone, still feeling the after-affects of the dusting. The sensation must be excruciating without the water vest's protection. The realization that he no longer had the vest drove him forward to complete his mission for Mavis. He would dry out in the sun of the clear sky and scratch off the caked dusting form his skin and clothes.
It took twenty minutes for him to get to the dead end street--Dalton's End--leading out into the desert. No one seemed to care he was there as cars passed by but Josh could not help feeling watched still. Maybe that was just a common trait of the town. Eyes were everywhere and they could not be blinded. Anson was not the type of man to let things go. He had control and power without a rival or accountability. Mavis's promise of escape would surely be a great stab to Anson's pride.
Josh searched for the landmarks. More or less, he saw nothing but the expected bushes and rocks strewn about all around him. Every once in a while, he caught sight of a lizard or desert mouse running from one spot of cover to another. Small pieces of trash from the town moved in the slight breeze of the day, caught in outstretched branches. Far off, he could make out cacti and he thought he could see what might be an abandoned mineshaft cut into the side of a distant hillside to the north. No rock hand, though.
Mavis's words about the kids came to mind and Josh could not help but dwell on them, disappointed that no one seemed concerned about either child and their being lost. Lost in the shivering...and he still did not know what that meant. It had to be a place. He could not shake it. He could not help but feel defeated at each and every person he had spoken to about the kids telling him he would not find them. Were they right?
Josh nearly missed it and even walked several feet past it, before he randomly glanced back and saw the rock hand. Unsure of its kind--he had no experience with geology as it were--Josh crouched down to examine the flat piece of stone on the ground. It vaguely looked like a hand with a single finger pointing northeast. He stared along its path but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Not even the supposed lava field with its caves that Mavis had warned him about.
Knowing he had a few hours left of decent sunlight, Josh pressed on. The ground dipped and rose, making him thankful he had his grandfather's walking staff. A hawk above screamed out, drawing his attention. The bird glided in a circular pattern as if to let him know he had been seen and it wanted to be seen by Josh. Mesmerized, he staggered a bit, trusting the walking stick to help keep him upright.
"Glad you're up there," Josh sarcastically quipped. He watched it for a few more minutes before starting on again only to stop suddenly.
It had not been there before he looked up to see the hawk, but now a great field of old lava stretched out. It cut down drastically into a cavern like a trench and as he approached closer, he could see the caves. His hand gripped the walking staff as he walked down and saw movement within the shadows of the caves. What moved inside could not be ignored. Josh whipped around as something flew past him from behind, thinking it might have been the hawk he had seen from earlier.
No. This was smaller. Scalier. And it hissed a warning.
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