by M. R. Forbes
Barnes had moved a few steps away and was talking to someone over her comm. She disconnected and returned to them. “There’s a car on the way. I’m ready to continue the search.”
“Zhi, can you stay here and take care of this mess for me?” Hayden asked.
“Yes, Sheriff.”
Hayden looked back at the two dead deputies and the trife spread across the grass. It should be getting easier to lose good people, considering how often it happened.
It wasn’t.
Chapter 6
“Sheriff, look,” Deputy Barnes said, sliding off her horse and rushing over to the side of the road.
Hayden guided Zorro to where she was kneeling, looking down at a small mark on the surface of the asphalt.
“What do you have?” he asked.
“Tire mark,” she said. “It has to be relatively fresh to be so clear on the road surface.”
Hayden spun Zorro in a tight circle, scanning the area. They had ridden nearly six kilometers from the scene of the ambush, after tracking the rest of the trife from the adjacent apartments south in this direction. They lost the trail nearly half a klick back, the claw marks vanishing completely without resuming.
Until now.
The tire mark was on the edge of a small curb, an outlet for cars leaving a single building labeled Carl’s Jr. Judging by the interior, it appeared to have been a restaurant of some kind.
“They must have parked the car here,” he said. “But they probably carried Ike from somewhere near where we lost the tracks.”
“Agreed,” Barnes said. “This seems like a strange spot to leave the getaway car.”
“Not really. Visibility’s pretty good all around. The driver perches on the roof of the restaurant while the courier picks up the relay. If there’s any trouble, they both make themselves scarce and regroup somewhere else.”
“That makes sense,” Barnes replied, standing up.
“Do you know where that road heads?”
Barnes nodded. “It heads east into what we call the Wastes.”
“Wastes?”
“There must have been a massive fire there at some point that took out half the eastern side of the city. There isn’t anything left but half-charred timbers and rubble mixed in with overgrown vegetation. The trife used to hide in there sometimes, but not since we cleared out the nest north of here.”
“You were on that job?” Hayden asked.
“Yes, Sheriff. Squad Six. Near the back of the line. It felt good to be part of it, though. Sanose has been trife-free since.” She paused, lowering her head. “Until today, anyway.”
“I’d love to tell you it’ll be the last time, but if things don’t go well it’s going to get worse again before it gets better.”
“If the trife come back, we’ll be ready. We’ve got a lot more to protect now. In any case, that road cuts into the Wastes. If there’s another ambush waiting; that’s where it will be.”
“Where does it go after that?”
“There’s a main road that heads south and another that cuts east over those hills.” She pointed. “It just depends on which way they went from here.”
Hayden stared at the hills, trying to recall the topography. He had been over the area in both a Centurion transport and the Iroquois. “If they took the east road, they’d have hills between themselves and any activity between Sanisco, Sanose and Haven. It’s easier to stay hidden that way.”
“It’s also a lot less direct and a lot more obstacle-ridden than running straight south,” Barnes said. “If they’re in a hurry, it wouldn’t make sense.”
Were they in a hurry? He had survived Shurrath’s first attempt to kill him, but did that mean the Relyeh was worried enough about him to accelerate his plans? Shurrath had waited over two-hundred years for Isaac to come out of stasis and prepare his insurrection. Couldn’t he wait a few days more?
“I’ll tell you what,” Hayden said. “We’ll head into the Wastes together. You take the southern road, and I’ll head east. First one to solidify a direction hollers to the other.”
“What if neither one of us finds any evidence they went through the area?”
“Then I’ll keep heading east, and you’ll go back home.”
“You can’t do this alone, Sheriff. It’s obvious the enemy has it in for you.”
“Which is exactly why I have to do it alone,” he replied. “The more people with me, the more attention I’ll attract.”
“No offense, Sheriff, but you’re bound to attract attention with that getup.”
Hayden smiled. She was right. The hat, the combat armor, the duster and ammo belts. He would stick out like a sore thumb in the areas outside of the UWT.
He patted his saddlebags. “I’ve got that covered. I’m not as dumb as I look.” He smiled.
Deputy Barnes flushed, embarrassed. “Of course,” she said. “Sorry, Sheriff, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s not a big deal,” he said, cutting her off. “You’re trying to look out for me. I appreciate it.”
She nodded.
“That’s the plan,” he said. “You’ll go south. I’ll go east. I’m leaning toward our perps heading east. The only way it doesn’t make sense is because they might expect me to go that way.”
“That makes it more likely. It’s easier to set traps for you if they can lead you away from the settled areas.”
“Pozz that.”
“Then you shouldn’t go east, Sheriff. Take the south road, meet them closer to the source.”
“I can’t. There’s no guarantee they’ll take Ike all the way to wherever Shurrath is hiding. They want to study his brain, to figure out why the Axon can’t manipulate him. The irony is we already know why, and when Shurrath finds out, he’s going to be plenty pissed off, which I’m pretty sure won’t go well for Ike. It might not go well for us either if Shurrath is holding back his next move until he learns Ike’s secrets. I have to get him back before that cat’s out of the bag.”
“What if you can’t get him back?”
Hayden wasn’t expecting that question. He glanced over at Deputy Barnes, his eyes turning hard.
“As long as Shurrath thinks there’s something in the human genome that might help him solve the Axon problem, he’s more likely to bide his time and stay cautious. We already know he wants to trade the information for a higher standing among his kind. If he loses that hope or proves that line of reason is a dead end?”
He shook his head. He hadn’t told anyone that part of his plan before now, not even Natalia. She would have talked him out of it, and he couldn’t afford that.
“You’re going to kill him,” Barnes said.
Hayden nodded. “I’ll do what I have to do.”
He waited for her judgment, but none came. Deputy Barnes was all business.
“We should get a move on then, shouldn’t we Sheriff?”
“We should.”
They guided their horses east, heading into the Wastes.
Chapter 7
The Wastes weren’t exactly as Hayden pictured them. While he did come across burned out husks of buildings, piles of rubble and timber, and evidence of the fires that had consumed part of the city a long time ago, he also came across signs of renewal. Trees had sprouted amidst the damage, tall enough they must have started their journey skyward at least a dozen years earlier. Other plants had started regaining the property as well. Grass, bushes and a few different kinds of wildflowers. Birds passed overhead or perched on the branches of the saplings, watching him cantor past on Zorro’s back. Squirrels skittered across the road ahead of him, which was being swallowed up by the surrounding growth. The small creatures bounced over damaged foundations and vanished behind the broken walls as if they were playing a game he didn’t understand.
He had parted from Deputy Barnes twenty minutes earlier, splitting off at an intersection—a huge clover interchange that had once carried thousands of people from place to place every day—where the path went south and east. T
he interchange was just outside of the Wastes, marking the spot where the fires had been contained, unable to jump the paved gap. He had yet to hear from Barnes, indicating that her search to the south had come up empty so far.
It was just as well. Hayden didn’t want her to come across signs of Shurrath’s followers. What had happened to Harley and Arlov was bad enough. He had come alone to prevent the loss of more good people—an idea that was starting as a failed act of heroism. But he wasn’t trying to be a hero. He was only trying to do the right thing. He had started this little war by getting involved, and that was fine. He wouldn’t stand for anyone wantonly murdering innocents. At the same time it was a hard responsibility to be the sheriff. When any of his people died, he felt their blood on his hands. There was no way to wash it off completely, but he owed every last one of them to make sure their sacrifice meant something.
It wasn’t like he wanted to leave Natalia and Hallia behind and head out into danger. He had to; it came with the job. Natalia understood. Sometimes better than he did. And he loved her for it.
He continued along the eastern road, his eyes tight on the crumbling asphalt. The vegetation had been flattened by the tires of a passing vehicle. Two lines of flat earth were easily visible, meandering around the few wrecks and other obstacles that remained. A car had come this way recently. There was no doubt about it.
“Barnes,” he said, tapping on his badge.
“I’m here, Sheriff,” she replied.
“What’s your status?”
“I’m about five klicks south of the intersection. All clear.”
“I’ve got visual on a set of tire tracks. I’m pretty confident they belong to our target.”
“I can double-back and meet up with you,” Barnes offered.
“Negative. I’ll take things from here. Head back north and help out with Harley and Arlov, and finish your investigation. Thanks for your help.”
Barnes didn’t respond right away. Hayden knew she wanted to be part of whatever came next. If she lived long enough, she really might make a good sheriff one day soon. “Roger, Sheriff,” she answered at last. “I’m just on the other end of the comm. If you need me, holler.”
“Pozz,” Hayden replied. “With any luck, I won’t hit any more trouble before I’m well out of comms range. Sheriff Duke out.”
He tapped the badge, taking a strong breath in and slowly releasing. There was something about cutting himself off from the rest of his people that gave him a sense of relief.
He continued along the road east, heading deeper into the Wastes. He stayed alert, eyes scanning the path ahead, as well as keeping a watch over Zorro. The horse might pick up a hint of danger long before he did, and it would serve him well to pay attention.
An hour passed. The tracks continued along the road east, and he discovered a few places where the car had stopped and something blocking it had been moved. Burned out shells of vehicles had been forcefully shoved aside, leaving deep ruts in the old pavement and surrounding grass, proving that whoever was in the car was too strong not to be hosting a khoron. He studied the area around the ruts, looking for signs of prints to get an idea of how many were involved in Isaac’s abduction. The hard ground hid all but a portion of one print, a smaller foot he felt safe declaring was female.
Another hour passed. The destruction of the Wastes began to dissipate as the signs of civilization thinned out around him. He was reaching the outer edge of the city limits and approaching a series of foothills leading higher into the range beyond. He was making decent time now, moving at a steady pace and staying on target.
“Barnes,” he said, tapping his badge. The LED flashed red. Out of range. Good.
He rode a little further, slowing when a form appeared on the horizon ahead of him. It didn’t match the other debris and detritus he had become accustomed to. It didn’t fit with the surroundings.
“What the hell?” he whispered.
Zorro snorted and flipped his head slightly, showing signs of agitation.
Hayden slid off the back of the horse, holding the reins. He squinted his eyes, trying to get a better view through the sunlight. The shape ahead of him was like a mirage, silhouetted and surreal. Even so, Hayden kept approaching, drawing his revolver in his free hand as he moved in.
The man was standing in the middle of the road. He had scavenged a small dining table from somewhere. It was slightly charred and rotted but stood solidly upright on four legs. Two old teacups rested on the table, a large flask in the center. A pair of mismatched chairs waited empty on either side.
“Sheriff Duke,” the man said. He was older. In his sixties or seventies. Thick white hair, a wrinkled face, a warm smile on a chiseled jaw. He wore a pair of ancient jeans and a blue collared shirt beneath a black blazer. He stood stiff and proud—unarmed as near as Hayden could tell—waiting patiently for Hayden to arrive. “You can put the gun away. I’m here to talk.”
Hayden pointed the revolver at him. “Shurrath?”
“Not yet.”
Chapter 8
“Please,” the man said. “Put the gun away. Sit down, have a drink. It’s Tennessee whiskey. I found it at an old distillery out that way a dozen years back or so. It’s good stuff.”
Hayden didn’t put the gun away. He stared at the man. “What is this?”
“My name is Jim Lane,” the man said. “My khoron’s name is Lesthik. Yeah, I’m not trying to trick you, Sheriff. Or lie about my intentions or be deceiving in any way. Shurrath sent me here to talk to you.”
“Why you?”
“I was in the area.” He smiled. “Seriously. It’s as simple as that. Although there are a lot more of us in the area than there were a week ago, I’ll tell you that. Somebody’s been causing a bit of trouble.” He raised his eyebrows and pointed at Hayden, laughing. “Do you always piss ancient deities off this much?”
“Deities? Like gods? I’m pretty sure Shurrath came from another planet. That doesn’t make him a god.”
“That’s a matter of perspective. But please, sit. We can discuss it. I know you two have gotten off on the wrong foot. I’m here to mediate.”
“Mediate? Why? Because Shurrath has what he wants?”
“He’s waited a long time to get what he wants. You almost ruined two hundred years of waiting. The fact that I’m here, that I’m offering to sit down with you and have a drink and shoot the shit and work something out, that should mean something. Don’t you think?”
Hayden pointed his revolver at Jim. “Or I could shoot you. I just need to make sure I use enough bullets to kill Lesthik, wherever the fuck he moves.”
Jim smiled. “I’m offering you hospitality, and you’re offering violence? Has the shoe really changed feet that quickly?”
Hayden’s jaw clenched. Jim had a point. He put the revolver away, and let go of Zorro’s reins. The horse wandered off a short distance to graze.
“Okay,” Hayden said, grabbing the back of his chair. “You want to talk? We can talk.”
He swung the chair around and sat down, making sure to position his guns for easy access before he rested his crossed arms on the chair back.
Jim smiled. “I knew you were open to reason.” He took the other chair and sat. Then he grabbed the flask and poured a shot into Hayden’s teacup.
“It isn’t poisoned, is it?” Hayden asked.
“No, sir. I don’t need to poison you.” Jim poured some into his cup and took a quick drink. “Ahhh. Good shit.”
Hayden picked up the teacup and sniffed the alcohol. Then he downed it, lighting a fire in his belly and his throat. “Not bad,” he admitted.
“Let’s get down to business,” Jim said, satisfied. “I don’t need to be here, Sheriff. Shurrath, he doesn’t need to make peace with you. But things are changing. Not only on this world but out there.” He motioned to the sky. “Events put in motion hundreds of thousands of years ago are coming to a head. And we’re fortunate to be near the epicenter of history.”
“A lot
of words without a lot of substance,” Hayden said.
Jim laughed. “You are a serious hombre, aren’t you, Sheriff? I like your no-frills approach. I like your dress code too. You look like you’re about to kick my ass, and you’re just sitting there.”
“I’m not in the mood to play games. Two of my people died not two hours ago, thanks to Shurrath. If that’s his idea of peace, let him in, and I’ll tell him where he can go.”
“Careful, Sheriff. I understand you’re upset. The trife were there as an early warning system, so to speak. Shurrath wasn’t convinced you would come, not without an army at your back. But after I examined the Collective, I knew you would.”
“Congratulations.”
Jim poured himself another drink and then offered Hayden the flask. He put his hand up, refusing it.
“Suit yourself,” Jim said, swallowing the shot. “Shurrath could use someone like you, Hayden. You have all the hallmarks of exactly the kind of human he’s looking for to help lead his forces into the next phase of expansion.”
“Next phase?”
“I should back up a little. Actually, I should stop here. I can’t explain it all that well. Hold up a second, and try to resist the urge to shoot me.”
Jim closed his eyes. Only for a heartbeat. Hayden knew Jim was gone as soon as they opened again.
“Shurrath,” Hayden said.
“Sheriff Hayden Duke,” Shurrath replied.
“You don’t want to project into my head this time?”
“Unnecessary. This organic is sufficient, so long as you don’t destroy it.”
“Jim was telling me you wanted to call a truce.”
“I wouldn’t call it a truce. I will have what I want, Sheriff. That part is inevitable. But your position within that outcome is highly variable and within your control.”
“You killed Rain after you used her to kill my people. I’m not too happy about that.”
“It was necessary to show you what you’re dealing with. I’m not a half-psychotic despot aimlessly pursuing control of something I can never truly control. I’ve been in existence longer than life on this world. Think about that for a moment.”