The flight to Phoenix takes five hours.  Oscar looks down into the wide expanse of his country. From the air it appears largely unpopulated.  Every once in a while there will be a flash of metal in the sunlight, a hint at a pocket of humanity.  They fly over interminable brown mountains that give way to a wide valley. It is a riot of beige neighborhoods riddled with aqua-colored dots that Oscar figures are swimming pools.  It looks nothing like the place Mina described.

There is a car waiting, of course.   On the ground, Phoenix is a maze of concrete and asphalt that shimmers in the heat.  Soon the city gives way to sprawling residential stucco in various shades of taupe.  Finally, the long stretch of suburbia ends and they are careening through a cactus-riddled landscape ringed by distant brown mountains.

Oscar grows uneasy as they turn off the freeway and spend miles on a bumpy road that dissolves into dirt.  Mina has passed out beside him and the driver is nothing but a silent head.

“Shit,” Oscar mutters, and by the time they reach a scattered collection of buildings he’s expecting the worst.

Oscar slides out of the door as Mina struggles to pull herself back into the land of the conscious.  The brilliant sunshine is so harsh, nearly painful.

He curses again and rubs his eyes, seeing spots and beyond that, an imprint of a ghost town.   When he opens them, a girl has materialized.  She looks him up and down with a bored expression, then tosses a mane of wavy dark hair.  Oscar figures she’s one of the Savage cousins.  She looks about as friendly as your average fork-tongued lizard.

Twenty yards away is a rambling, one story, rustically luxurious ranch home that was probably once quite something but now just looks like it’s seen better days.  Beyond that is a splintery church, a rickety barn, a shabby general store with a teetering façade, and a narrow Victorian-style building with a sagging balcony and a wooden sign with the word ‘BROTHEL’ plainly spelled out in weathered lettering.

“Welcome to paradise, cousin,” laughs the girl who seconds earlier had looked at him like he was a shit-filled paper bag.  Her face is pretty, her expression mocking and even though she’s not as filled out as the girls Oscar usually likes he can’t avoid taking interest in what he does see.

Then Mina spills out of the car and people suddenly start popping up from everywhere.  The dark-haired girl is joined by a blonde and a redhead. Both of them stare at him and giggle like idiots.  A teenage boy rides up on an arthritic pony and hops off, generating a cloud of dust.  That pisses off a bigger teenage boy who has somehow erupted from the nearest cactus.

“Motherfucker,” complains the larger boy and swipes at the rider.

The kid on horseback tips his wide straw hat back and glares.  “Stay off the fucking path then, asshole.”

A shoving match ensues and there’s more cursing, some shouted promises of blood.  The pair of them roll right into Oscar’s legs.

The dark-haired girl lets out a loud sigh, then stomps over and pulls them apart.  She’s petite and bird-like. Oscar stands ready to jump in if the boys make a move to rough her up at all but they freeze like a cartoon when she yells, “Stop acting like savages!”

The other two girls find this choice of words hilarious and they laugh harder.  Oscar is beginning to wonder if they know how to do anything else.

With one final shove, the larger boy rolls off and stalks away without even hinting that he’s noticed Oscar at all despite the fact that he crashed right into him a few seconds earlier.  The girl holds out a hand to the other boy, who’s grabbing at his hat and moodily shoving it back onto his head.

“Hell of an impression we’re making,” the girl says with a headshake as she hauls her brother to his feet.   She meets Oscar’s eyes, stares searchingly for a second and then nods.  Right away Oscar can guess that she’s the rare sort of girl who doesn’t have much patience for bullshit.

“I’m Ren.”  She jerks her head.  “This is Spence.  The nasty ape stalking in the direction of the brothel is Monty.  By the way, it’s not a real brothel so don’t get all excited.  Like the rest of this place it’s just leftover garbage from the heyday of Hollywood’s revisionist Old West era.”

“Is that so?” says Oscar, trying to take it all in.  The crumbling buildings, the gang of rowdy siblings, his mother somewhere in the background.

“Brother!” Mina squeals and kisses the air around the head of a broad-shouldered man whose movies Oscar has seen but whose hand he’s never shaken.

At the man’s side is a scowling woman with the same dainty build as Ren.  Her face says she’s on the fading side of forty.  She’s staring at Oscar.

“I thought he was a boy,” she complains unhappily.  “You described a boy, not a man.”

The girl named Ren makes a face, rolling her eyes.  Spence looks like he’d rather just get back on his horse and ride somewhere more interesting.  The giggle twins go on giggling. Monty broods on the balcony of the brothel. And August Savage is scrutinizing him thoughtfully.

“Hello Oscar,” he says and it’s the friendliest greeting so far.

“Oscar is tall,” Mina explains as she slumps against the car with a sigh.

“You are tall,” August agrees.  “How old are you now?”

“Sixteen,” Mina answers.

“Seventeen,” Oscar corrects.

“Ah,” nods August.  “That explains it.”

The scowling woman grabs August’s arm and leads him to the far side of the car.  Oscar can hear her hissing.  He sees August’s hard glare in response.

“Enough,” says August and leaves her to glower alone as he returns to his sister’s side.

Mina looks uncomfortable as she stands in her brother’s shadow.  When her absent gaze lands on Oscar it’s full of apology.  This unnerves him.

Oscar looks around.  This neglected collection of buildings in the middle of nowhere is not exactly the heaven that Mina remembers.  Except for the Savage family it seems there is nothing and no one for miles.  It doesn’t appear that will change anytime soon.

“Welcome to paradise.”

Now that he’s been introduced to a few of them, Oscar can figure out who the rest of the Savages are.  The bitchy woman who perches atop her stilettos and regards Oscar like he’s a wild animal that’s just crapped in her roses is Lita, August’s wife, matriarch to the gang of wild teenagers.  He knows that sullen Montgomery of the Brothel is the eldest, Loren who calls herself ‘Ren’ is next in line, then the twins Spencer and Ava.  Finally Brigitte, who smirks at him through a curtain of red hair, is the youngest.

Atlantis Star looks like a place people might end up if they are running from zombie invasions or hellfire Armageddon.  The end of the proverbial and literal road.  Oscar wonders how long they’ve all been stuck out here and why the hell they came in the first place.  It’s the opposite of glamorous.

August barks that Spencer needs to help Oscar with his bags.  Spencer doesn’t seem pleased but he obeys after one more regretful glance at the waiting horse.

“Thanks, but I got it,” Oscar growls as he heaves two large duffel bags over each shoulder with a grunt.  There was more that he’d left behind in the storage basement at school.  He suspects he won’t ever see any of it again but that’s fine. He knows instinctively that he will never be returning and anyway he doesn’t need the burden of a whole mess of stuff.

In Oscar’s opinion that’s the biggest problem with people like his mother.  Too much fucking stuff.

Atlantis, on the other hand, seems to have very little stuff.  It’s a scorched ghost town in bleak condition.  A rusted pickup truck sits in front of the house.  Beside it is a silver Lexus.

Spence had shrugged and wandered back to his horse when Oscar refused his help but Ren falls in step beside him.