“Henry! Steve! Eric’s gone after the doctor!”
“What? He left Melanie alone? Why?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t think he’s after the doc. He had his Winchester.”
Henry and Steve exchanged a glance, and Henry’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “You thinking what I am?”
Steve nodded. “He’s going after them, isn’t he?”
“That’s my bet.”
“You need to stop him! He’s not thinking straight,” Jessica cried.
“You’re right. Come on, Steve,” Henry said. “Jess, go stay with Melanie.”
“Will do.”
They rushed from the doorway, and the men made for the barn, assault rifles in hand. When they reached it, they found their saddles missing from the racks where they normally hung.
“Crap. He hid our gear,” Steve exclaimed.
“He wanted to slow us down. Stupid bastard,” Henry agreed. “Check the stalls. I’ll look over here.”
They found the saddles beneath a pile of loose hay and strapped them on their horses as quickly as they could. When they were done, Steve turned to Henry, a scowl creasing his face.
“He’s got a hell of a head start on us.”
Henry nodded once. “That he does. Let’s just hope he comes to his senses before he gets to town. Otherwise…”
Steve shook his head. “What a mess.”
Henry spurred his horse from the barn, his eyes hard as flint. “We’ll have to ride as hard as we can. Follow me,” he said. Henry goaded his horse forward, the rifle hanging from its shoulder sling bouncing against his side with each gallop as the animal launched at the gate like the devil himself was on its tail.
Chapter 6
Provo, Utah
Lucas and Art walked along the main street to the entry barrier, beyond which lay the army camp. The field had long been cleared of the thousands of dead fighters from Denver, who’d been buried in a mass grave near the lake, well downwind of the town.
“I don’t know, Art. Doesn’t sit well to dictate terms to Glenn and his bunch. Those bastards raped a little girl. You can understand why they want to handle it themselves.”
Art slowed and nodded. “Of course I do. But that’s not our concern. We need to maintain discipline, and letting anyone who claims to have been wronged mete out justice to our men sends the wrong message. I want them to know they’re accountable to us, no matter where we are. Otherwise it’ll be chaos, and we’ll be dealing with this kind of nonsense every day.”
“We have to consider Elliot’s group, Art. They need to get along with the council. Our being here is making things harder for them. A lot harder.”
“No disagreement, but there’s not much we can do about that. We’ll hit the road once the rest of the men arrive from Salem. They’ll just have to grin and bear it until then.” Art stopped and looked around before continuing. “There’s always going to be a few scumbags in a force this size, Lucas. The trick is showing even the bad ones that they can’t get away with it. That’s why we need to handle this ourselves. The men need to see there are rules, and consequences for breaking them.”
“Be easier to take them out back of the jail and shoot them ourselves. Wouldn’t think twice about it.”
“I agree.”
Lucas and Art had looked in on the prisoners, one of whom had throbbing red scratch marks across his cheek, the other of whom also looked guilty as sin, his hair black and oily, his eyes those of a ferret. Art had questioned them, but they’d refused to talk, there being no way of excusing the rape and beating of a girl barely into her teens. Lucas had watched, disgusted, as the men had sullenly glowered at Art, any pretense of innocence quickly discarded and replaced by overt hostility.
When Art had given up, he’d told them that they would face a court-martial the following day, and that they’d have a chance to tell their story then.
“You don’t want to talk, that’s fine,” he’d said. “I couldn’t care less. But I got to tell you, the penalty for what you did is death. Think on that long and hard, boys. Hope it was worth it.”
Neither of the men had given any indication of interest in whether the girl had survived, and Art didn’t see any point in sharing any information with them. He knew their kind from the leaden look in their eyes; borderline retarded miscreants who would kill a man for his boots and sleep well that night.
Lucas hadn’t said a word until they’d exited the jail, which was guarded by a single old man with a sawed-off shotgun. When they were clear of the building, he’d spit a stream by his boots and scowled at the sun before they’d continued to the barrier, his silence all the condemnation required.
Art had turned to him and spoken in a low tone. “We’re going to need discipline if we’re going to pull this off moving forward, Lucas. Trust me. All we have in the long run is chain of command, authority, and obedience. All armies work the same way. This one’s no different.”
“Pull this off,” Lucas repeated, and spit again. “Crossing the country and trying to take on the Illuminati? Sounded like a suicide mission back in Salem, and it’s sounding even more like one now that I’ve had time to think on it.”
“We beat the Chinese twice. They came with warships and trained troops, and we beat them cold, Lucas. There’s nothing we can’t do if we put our minds to it.”
“I don’t know, Art. Don’t take this wrong, but I’m not sure I’m cut out for this.”
“That’s nonsense. Of course you are. You’re a born leader.”
Lucas studied his boots. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I’m not convinced I’m the guy to do this. My heart’s not in it.” He waited a long beat. “Maybe you should take it the rest of the way. The men love and respect you. You don’t need me.”
“The hell I don’t! It wasn’t me who disabled the warship and commandeered the other one, Lucas. I didn’t lead the main charge. You did. Like it or not, you’re the heart and soul of what the troops are fighting for: to rid the country of miscreants. You have the moral authority to say that with a straight face. What am I? A broken-down bar owner. That’s one step above a whorehouse.” He paused. “Don’t tell me after all this you’re getting cold feet.”
“It’s not that, Art.” Lucas looked away. “It’s just…I’m bone-tired. I’ve been gone forever. I’ve got a family here. Spending time with them sounds better than heading into what could be certain death.”
Art nodded. “The difference between courage and recklessness is that courage requires you to face your fear and act in spite of it. Recklessness is acting without considering the consequences of your behavior. You’re just the man to lead the army precisely because you’re not reckless. I’ve watched you in action, Lucas. You’re one in a million, and this has gotten way bigger than one man’s wants and needs. For what it’s worth, we’re all tired, and I don’t want to have to cross the country to do battle any more than you do.” Art coughed again. “Don’t let me down, Lucas. There’s too much riding on carrying the ball into the end zone.”
Lucas nodded hesitantly. “Lot to think about, that’s for sure.”
“We’ll deal with the two miscreants tomorrow. In the meantime, think on what you can contribute to the girl’s fund. A little gold goes a long way, and god knows you have enough of it.”
“Count me in, and let me know what you need.”
Lucas left Art to make his way past the barrier to the encampment and turned to retrace his steps to the house he and Sierra were calling home. He squinted at a figure waiting at the end of the block, and his lips twitched in a smile when he saw Sierra’s familiar form, Eve by her side holding her hand.
“Where’s Tim?” he asked as he drew near.
“Playing with some of the other kids.” Sierra held his gaze without blinking. “Did you tell him?”
Lucas sighed. “It’s complicated, Sierra. I’ll do it in my own time.”
“You promised you would stay with us, Lucas. You’re not one to break a pro
mise.”
“I don’t intend to. But today isn’t the day. Let me do this my way, Sierra.”
Eve blinked her eyes at him, their blue so deep they seemed to absorb the turquoise sky and intensify the color. “You don’t look happy.”
Lucas nodded. “It’s been a rough one, little lady. Lot going on.”
Sierra moved closer to him. “Did they do it?”
Lucas’s face hardened. “Damn right they did.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Art says we have to let his tribunal deal with them to maintain discipline. I’m not so sure. I’d string ’em up from the nearest tree.”
“The council’s okay with that?”
“Art didn’t give them much of a choice.”
“How about you?”
“I say it’s their town. But Art’s the boss.”
“And the girl? Is she going to make it? It’s all anyone’s talking about.”
Lucas glanced at Eve. “She should.”
“This is going to cause a lot of problems for us, Lucas. Art needs to ride into the sunset or whatever he’s got planned. These are good people, but they’ll run out of patience after this.”
“I don’t disagree. We’ll try the two scumbags tomorrow, but it’s just a formality.”
“And then you’ll tell Art you’re quitting?”
Lucas adjusted his hat and his eyes narrowed as the sun beat down on his face. He nodded slowly, the muscles of his jaw clenched so hard they looked like steel bands.
“I’ll keep my promise, Sierra. Now let’s get home and see what Tim’s up to. He’s at that age where he can get into serious trouble in no time.”
Sierra took his hand and they began walking down the street, her face clouded with concern, Eve’s expression mirroring hers in the rising heat.
Chapter 7
West of Salt Lake City, Utah
Clark mopped his brow with a stained red bandana as the locomotive chugged toward the outskirts of Salt Lake City. Ruby gripped the rail by his side while two men shoveled coal into the furnace behind them. She’d struck up a friendship with Clark as the journey had progressed, and had decided she’d enjoy some company rather than sitting by herself in the packed cars, staring out the window like a kenneled dog.
“Shouldn’t be much longer,” Clark said as the faint outline of the city’s skyline came into view. “Tracks are already switched so we make it through to Provo without doing much but enjoying the ride.”
“That’s it?” she asked, peering out the side of the locomotive window, the wind parching her skin.
“No, that’s Salt Lake. Provo’s down a ways. But not too much farther.”
The trip east had been uneventful, Clark having managed to pack the cars with the remainder of the army. Because time wasn’t a pressing issue, he felt confident carrying more weight, and other than the nuisance of the track gaps, the trek had gone smoothly. There still remained a substantial portion of Salem and Newport that was waiting for radio word as to whether the train would be making a final round trip or if they’d have to spend months trying to cross the mountains – a harsh journey in the best of circumstances, and daunting as the weather threatened to turn.
Ruby blinked, her eyes tearing from the wind, and felt a stirring of anticipation as they approached Provo. She hadn’t seen Terry, her pilot paramour, in what seemed like forever, but she was also looking forward to seeing Art again. There had been significant chemistry between them, and she was torn over how she would manage both men in the same town. Of course the Art problem would solve itself when he departed with the army, but that felt emotionally dishonest as a solution, and it didn’t seem fair to Terry if she preferred Art but wound up with Terry because he was the only game left in town.
She sighed. She was a little old for this sort of drama, especially in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, but the heart never seemed to grow old, and she found she was flushing like a teenager at the thought of being reunited with the two men in her life again. That it would cause problems was a given, but as much as she tried, she couldn’t predict how the issue would resolve. It had simply been too long since she’d been with Terry, and her feelings for Art were fresher, even if they remained unconsummated.
“What the hell are you thinking?” she whispered to herself.
Clark looked over at her. “What’s that?”
She blushed at the realization that her whisper hadn’t been as soft as she’d believed, and that Clark had heard her even over the roar of the locomotive and the rattle of steel wheels on the tracks.
“I said, so you’re going to have to make another trip to Salem for everyone else,” she replied, covering for her inadvertent slip.
“Not planning on it unless your buddy Lucas coughs up some more gold.”
“I’m sure that won’t be a problem. But if it is, surely you wouldn’t leave everyone stranded?”
“Ruby, I’m doing this for one reason and one reason only. The minute my pay stops, so does this engine. Nothing personal, but I’m not in the altruism business.”
She looked him up and down. “No, I don’t suppose you are.”
Clark offered a wry grin. “You want to risk your skin doing it, I can show you how to work the levers.”
“That’s big of you. I may take you up on it. But I hope I won’t have to.”
The train chugged through the outskirts of Salt Lake City and slowed as it concluded the final leg. The skyline of Provo jutted into the azure sky with the mountains as a backdrop, and Ruby smiled at the image of man’s efforts against the majesty of nature’s. Clark glanced at her as a barricade across the road beside the tracks came into view, and braked the locomotive to a halt.
“End of the line,” he said. “This is the north side of the city. I’ll wait here with the engine until I hear from Lucas about doing one more trip. When you see him, tell him what I said.”
“I will.”
Ruby stepped down from the locomotive and made her way along the string of passenger cars to where the men were spilling from the doorways, eager to stretch their legs after days of monotonous confinement. The disembarking took almost half an hour as weapons and animals were offloaded, and when the second half of the army was on the ground, the column moved toward the barricade, where a dozen armed men were waiting.
“That’s far enough,” one of them called from behind a heavy machine gun.
“It’s okay. We’re part of Lucas and Art’s group,” said Larry, the senior officer chartered with leading the Salem contingent to safety. “The Freedom Army.”
The guard surveyed the mass of men, all armed, before replying. “They’re camped out over on the south side. You can get there by skirting the mountain,” he said, pointing to the foothills to his right.
“Wouldn’t it be faster to follow the road?” Larry asked.
“Afraid I can’t let you through. You’re not welcome in town.”
Larry glanced over at Ruby, on foot with her mule and horse beside her, before returning his attention to the sentry. “Why not?”
“Your people can explain it.”
The troops set off along the eastern foothills, following the trail that had been blazed by Lucas’s force. The sun was high in the sky by the time they arrived at the opposite end of the city, where a sea of tents outside its walls spread as far as they could see. Ruby surveyed the camp, and the knot in her stomach tightened – there were still signs of battle everywhere, where rust-colored blood stained the ground, and the lingering stench of death wafted on the gentle breeze from the lake.
The recent arrivals marched raggedly toward the encampment. Ruby detached herself from them and stood with her animals, watching as the men reunited with their compatriots, feeling unaccountably sad and apprehensive. She was exhausted from the trip, not to mention her whirlwind trek to break the news of Lucas’s victory in Seattle to the population of Newport and convince them that they’d be far safer in Salem, or in Provo with the army, and all she could th
ink of was a soft, unmoving bed and some long hours of sleep.
“Not so fast,” she muttered to herself, and stroked Jax’s flank before giving his reins a gentle pull. “We need to get you two fed and watered, and I need to find out where everyone’s staying.”
The animals eyed her with baleful gazes, and she smiled to herself. It couldn’t have been any picnic for them, having been cooped up for days in a cattle car, and she was sure they were looking forward to a respite from the confinement.
She glanced around a final time and then turned toward the city’s fortifications and began leading her mounts toward the gate.
“Come on. Let’s see if we can’t convince them to let us in.”
Chapter 8
Provo, Utah
Art stood near the command tent, smoking a hand-rolled cigarette made with some of his invaluable stash of tobacco accumulated from abandoned smoke shops in Newport and Seattle, and for which he’d traded with any squatters who’d frequented his bar. His eyes roamed over the thousands of tents and lingered on the lake in the near distance, the sun’s golden glare off the dimpled surface so bright it seemed on fire.
He drew a long puff and coughed several times before dropping the precious smoke onto the ground. His shoulders racked with spasms as he hacked like an engine out of fuel. The spell continued for twenty seconds, and then he spit beside the cigarette and drew a calming breath while he toed soil over the ruby splotch he’d coughed up.
Art glanced around and, sure that the episode had gone unobserved, labored to breathe, each inhalation a wet burble deep in his chest. He cursed silently and willed his pulse slower, and then surveyed the mountain path along which the army had crept before eviscerating Elijah’s force. His eyes narrowed and he peered at what appeared to be a mirage: a cloud of beige dust rising from the foothills, the image distorted from heat waves that shimmered in the afternoon light.
The Day After Never - Nemesis (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 9) Page 4