A Town Called Dust: The Territory 1 by Justin Woolley Read Free Book Online Page A

importance. The water tower was first, of course, standing high in the center of town like a beacon. Its large corrugated tank supported on metallic stilt legs. The flag of the Central Territory, a yellow image of the Rock on a red background, flapped gently above the tower in the breeze. The flag was old, its once lustrous red long faded to a salmon pink, and the end fluttered in tatters. It was a faint reminder of the Territory this town supposedly belonged to. Dust was among the towns furthest from Alice, and apart from ragged flags and the occasional Digger patrol they had little contact with the rest of the Territory.
    Soon Squid could make out the Church of Glorious God the Redeemer. Aside from the farm and the marketplace, that was the only other place he visited. Even though he wasn’t allowed to go to school anymore, he still traveled to town with Aunt and Uncle to attend church every two weeks, probably the bare minimum they could get away with without the Sisters asking questions about their faith.
    The main street of Dust became a hive of activity on market day—at least, it was the busiest place Squid ever got to see, which was to say that people started getting in the way of the tumbleweed. A number of small shops lined the street, wooden buildings that were packed so closely together they seemed to bulge at the top as though someone had been certain they could fit just one more in if they pushed hard enough. It seemed odd that the few buildings of Dust were built so close together when there was such a vast expanse of open landscape around them, but Squid understood the point. The town huddled together for protection; it was a place alone and afraid at the far reaches of civilization. The sounds of animals and people rolled down the street. Occasionally someone ran across the road in front of the wagon, only to be met by a spray of vulgarity from Uncle. As their wagon bounced further down the rutted road they passed the wooden schoolhouse. Squid tried hard not to look at it; he knew it would only upset him.
    Around the market square was a snaking semicircle of traders. Some were selling goods straight off their wagons while others had erected small stalls. The smells of earthy vegetables and sizzling meat filled Squid’s nose. As with every trip to Dust, Squid realized he didn’t mind the peace and quiet of the farm after all. All these busy people talking and yelling; Squid couldn’t understand any of it. He didn’t understand people.
    “Roo meat here! Get your barbequed roo meat! Gas fired!”
    “Fully organic potatoes grown with dirt completely fertilizer free!”
    “Fruit, all kinds of fruit, shipped all the way from the Northern Ranges by the fastest dirigible!”
    Squid didn’t know much about the world—who would really want to?—but he knew the Northern Ranges were a long way away and it showed. He could smell the pungent aroma of overripe fruit as Uncle pulled the wagon to a stop. He looked at Squid. “Go get the horses stabled.”
    Bluey watched Squid absently as he was unhitched from the wagon. Dealing with The Horse wasn’t nearly as traumatic as Squid was expecting. Perhaps he was so exhausted from the trip that he didn’t have the energy to be a torment, but whatever the reason, Squid wasn’t going to complain. He led the two horses behind the other stalls and down the little laneway that led to the temporary market stables. Stableboys were tending horses, leading them in and out, washing them down, wiping them, saddling them and unsaddling them. As Squid brought Bluey and The Horse into the stables he stepped in a giant pile of fresh wet horse manure.
    Looking down, Squid sighed when he saw that his entire foot was lost in the deep brown pile. There was a long sucking sound as he tried to extract it. While he stood on one leg considering his current predicament, Squid was only vaguely aware of the commotion up ahead, or rather the sudden lack of commotion. After deciding it was