No Way Back: A Sheriff Duke Story (Forgotten Fallout Book 3)

by M. R. Forbes

  He made it to the front, staying low near the windows and peering up and out through the broken glass. The car was only a few meters away, the leaking oil having created a decent sized spill beneath it. It was too dark to tell if it was still dripping, but judging by the size of the puddle it had been there for at least a day.

  No part of his logical mind could conceptualize Shurrath’s followers remaining here with Isaac for that long. And the condition of the car suggested they had come up with alternative transportation.

  He scanned the area around the car, eyes sweeping over the ground a few times before settling on a small mound to its right. It was out of place and easily recognizable.

  Manure.

  They had traded the car for horses.

  Hayden remained in place for a few more minutes, waiting to see if anything moved. The light faded almost entirely, save for illumination from the stars and a sliver of moon. He finally broke from the house, out the front door and into the street, hurrying across to the modbox.

  He crouched behind it, eyeing the manure. He could see the pressed down grass, the tracks left by large wheels. He could also see the hoofprints in the soft ground. It wasn’t a single horse, but a whole team, lined up side-by-side and pulling something. Had someone modded a car to act as a carriage?

  The tracks didn’t go back down the road, instead continuing deeper into the development, which probably had another outlet somewhere.

  Hayden looked from the tracks to the house in front of him. The door was hanging half-open. Had someone been inside? He ran from the car to the steps. Bootprints led in and out of the house.

  He went inside, leading with his gun. A lingering smell of cooked meat hung in the air, along with the sweaty, fleshy odor he recognized as human presence. They had been in here at one point. He turned right and entered the kitchen. The shelves had all been knocked down, and broken plates and glasses littered the floor. The remains of a cookfire rested in the sink.

  You cannot avoid me. You cannot sneak up on me. My eyes are everywhere. My hands are everywhere. Earth is already mine, Sheriff.

  Hayden heard a creaking noise at the top of the steps. He spun quickly. Nothing. He headed back to the stairs, pivoting around the corner and aiming his revolver.

  A trife was standing at the top of the steps, looking down at him, its larger form dark and ominous. They stared at one another for a moment.

  Hayden threw himself to the left instinctively, avoiding the trife trying to sneak up on him from behind. Its lunge left it off-balance, and he came up and put a bullet into the side of its head. The trife at the top of the steps shrieked and started coming down. It hit a weak spot in the stairs, its foot sinking in and tripping it. The demon fell forward and landed on its face at Hayden’s feet.

  “Nice move,” Hayden said. Then he shot it in the head too.

  He froze, listening. Would Shurrath have left only two trife behind? Possibly. Just enough to keep an eye on him, and to remind him he wasn’t beyond the Relyeh’s grasp.

  He waited a few more minutes. Nothing.

  You cannot avoid me. You cannot sneak up on me. My eyes are everywhere. My hands are everywhere. Earth is already mine, Sheriff.

  The words ran through Hayden’s head again. He looked down at the two dead trife.

  “Not yet, it isn’t.”

  Chapter 15

  Hayden spent the night in the same house where Shurrath’s followers had held Isaac. He found the bed where Isaac had slept, quickly identifying the marks from the handcuffs and the crumbs of the MRE he had left behind. He slept there too, his hat over his face, a gun in his hand and Zorro tethered in the living room. He didn’t expect more trife and none came. He was right in guessing they were there to track him, not to kill him.

  That didn’t mean Shurrath wasn’t trying to kill him. It also didn’t mean the trife wouldn’t be a problem in the future. But there was enough cleared land between the UWT and the nearest nest that it would take some time for the Relyeh to organize an assault. Hopefully more time than Hayden would give the alien to continue living.

  He followed the carriage tracks back west a couple of klicks, where they turned south and then broke east again. An uneventful morning turned into an uneventful afternoon, which quickly changed over to an uneventful evening. No sign of Isaac. No trife. Not a single soul. The world around him was peaceful and quiet.

  The calm before the storm?

  The carriage tracks led him off the road, diverging from the easier passage to take a rougher track south. A part of Hayden began to worry that Shurrath’s people were headed to the same place he was because the trail was moving in the right general direction. At the same time, for as much as the Relyeh knew, Hayden wasn’t convinced Shurrath knew about his destination. It wasn’t common knowledge, even within the UWT. The alternate explanation was that Shurrath was leading him on, trying to slow him down and definitely pulling him into an eventual trap. The seemingly coincidental but in reality intentional visibility of the tracks backed that theory up. They never vanished for too long, and even when they did, he found things like MRE wrappers and the ends of discarded cigarettes.

  Something was waiting for him up ahead, much like Jim had been waiting in the Wastes. Shurrath had already made his offer, and Hayden had already refused. The next obstacle wouldn’t be nearly as friendly.

  Hayden wasn’t concerned. He understood that to get to Shurrath he had to get through his khoron-infected followers. He didn’t expect it to be easy and he wasn’t about to let his guard down. But he also wasn’t going to turn around or take a wide swing away from the trail. Following would pull him into trouble. Not following would cost him time. He had some measure of control over the former. He couldn’t recover from the latter. Besides, the trail was still going in the same general direction as his primary target. Even if he weren’t tailing Isaac he would be on a similar vector.

  He continued on. The sun began to set for the second time. The landscape around him was barren and brown, sprinkled with shrubs and stones of various sizes. He spotted a small piece of relatively flat ground and decided to stop for the evening. He slid off Zorro, retrieving water and food for the horse from his saddlebags. Afterward, he sat, leaning back against a stone and lowering his hat over his face. Zorro would make a racket if anything dangerous got too close.

  Hayden made it through the night undisturbed. The morning found him relieving himself, downing an MRE and taking a swig from a water jug before resuming the slow-speed chase.

  He spent another quiet morning riding across the brown landscape. He was covering a lot of ground, but he also knew he was at least a day behind Isaac and his captors. Probably more. The reality tested his patience and he had to resist the urge to task Zorro with a gallop. Time wasn’t on his side, but he couldn’t force things either. He had to maintain control.

  It was closing on high noon when Hayden came to a spot on the trail where the hooves and wheels of the wagon had left deeper impressions in the ground, suggesting it had stopped there. Hayden scanned the landscape, hand on the butt of one of his revolvers. His gaze landed on a large rock to his left. He had noticed it as he approached. He knew with certainty someone was hiding behind it.

  “Max!” Hayden shouted. “I know you’re back there. Now’s as good a time as any for you to come out.”

  There was no change at first. No motion or hint that he was right about the Intellect’s presence.

  “Hahaha. Haha. How did you know I was here, Sheriff Duke?” Max said, remaining behind the rock.

  “You’ve been tailing me since Sanose.”

  “How did you know?”

  Hayden hadn’t seen the Intellect following him. But the logic of it was sound enough he had known it was true. Regardless of anything else, Max wanted Shurrath as much, if not more than Hayden did. But the Intellect didn’t have a lead on the Relyeh’s location, he didn’t know the area, and he was just arrogant enough of his own intellect to assume Hayden wasn’t smart enough t
o guess he would wait to follow him.

  “I’m a Sheriff,” he replied. “It’s my job to know.”

  “Pozz,” Max said. “Hahaha. Haha.” The Intellect came out of hiding, circling from the right side of the stone. Only he didn’t look the same. His body was larger and meaner, his eyes small and piercing, his jaw square. “Did you also know this shell was waiting here to kill you?”

  He made an underhand motion, tossing something at Hayden. Zorro skipped back a couple of steps, and the dead khoron landed at the horse’s feet.

  “I figured someone would be,” Hayden said. “Thanks for taking care of him.”

  “I require your survival,” Max said.

  “I know. Does this mean our deal is back on?”

  “Does it?” Max asked. “Regret. My actions with regard to Rain. She was a passable human. Hahaha. Haha. Shurrath took control of her. I was unable to contain my anger toward him, even after he fled.”

  “I didn’t ask for an explanation,” Hayden said. He wasn’t all that happy to see the Intellect, but he needed Max as much as Max needed him. “And I won’t accept an apology.”

  “Understanding. Acceptance. It is beneficial for both of us to renew our agreement.”

  “Yes. It is.”

  Max continued to approach. “Settlement. Agreement.”

  “That doesn’t make us friends. I hate you for what you did. But you never were one of us. You never will be. It was my mistake to expect you to act with human honor and civility.”

  “I have a responsibility to the Axon, Sheriff. As you have a responsibility to humans.” Max stood beside Hayden, looking up at him. “I came upon this one during the night, when his vision was limited. He put up a decent fight. Hahaha. Ha.” Max pointed southeast. “The trail continues that way.”

  “How far ahead did you go?”

  “About four kilometers. I don’t require sleep.”

  “You could have kept following the trail. You could have stayed ahead of me.”

  “The trail ends at four kilometers. We must work together to determine our destination after that.”

  “I already know our first stop,” Hayden said. “We’re going to keep heading east.”

  “The trail goes south.”

  “I know. Mark this location in that fucked up brain of yours, and try not to corrupt it. We’ll have to double back.”

  “That is temporally inefficient.”

  “That’s one way to put it. But it can’t be helped. We won’t get close to Shurrath like this.”

  “Confusion. You cannot transfer yourself to another shell.”

  “No. But you gave me another idea.”

  “I did?”

  “Yup.”

  Max was silent for a moment, trying to solve the equation. “Hahahaha. Hahahaha. Haha. You have a Skin.”

  “No, not yet. But I know where to get one.”

  Chapter 16

  Grace cruised slowly toward the outer perimeter of the town known as Haven, her mind carrying her back to her last visit only days before. She had come with Cain. They had killed a number of law officers and had left with a gas tanker they had later tried to use to blow up one of the UWT’s fuel depots. It was all part of Shurrath’s orders to create havoc in the territories, en route to killing Sheriff Duke.

  Only things hadn’t worked out according to plan. Even their mayhem had been cut short in Shurrath’s sudden desire to see the sheriff killed and Isaac captured. And now Shurrath had what he wanted. Or at least, what he thought he wanted because he didn’t know the truth.

  She had ridden deep into the night, stopping only at the point of exhaustion when she had nearly wrecked the bike, her eyes too heavy to stay focused on the road ahead. She had pulled off the road and laid down on the grass beside a rusted-out wreck that had been pushed to the side of the highway. She had fallen asleep almost instantly.

  The sun was up when she awoke. If she were anywhere else on the planet she likely would have been surrounded by something when she did. Either human or trife, neither with good intentions. Her body reacted as if she were somewhere else. She jumped to her feet and grabbed her bow, only to realize what Doctor Hess had said was right. She didn’t have the strength in her right arm to pull the bowstring.

  Never one to accept defeat that easily, she spent the next hour trying to work the stiffness out of the arm and the hour after that she practiced using the weapon with her left hand. She was thankful she probably wouldn’t need it here, but she would definitely need it when she got further south.

  After that she continued along the road south. She passed a couple of vehicles on the way, including another tanker headed north. The drivers didn’t expect threats anymore, and they waved to her in passing. She waved back, the simple sense of humanity bringing back something she had lost in her years wandering the continent.

  Hope.

  The noise of the motorcycle’s engines drew the attention of the people in the streets. While motorized vehicles were more common here than in most places, they were far from ubiquitous. Even the law officers posted near the entrances closest to the road gave her extended looks as she reached the threshold of the populated area.

  She waved to one of them, guiding the bike across a wide street to the corner where the officer was stationed. Her heart pounded as she did. She didn’t think any of the officers or passerby would recognize her as the same woman who had come through with Cain, but she wasn’t entirely sure. Would they connect her with the killings? Would they try to arrest her on the spot? She had Natalia’s badge in the pocket of her jumpsuit. Would that keep her out of trouble?

  She pulled the motorcycle to a stop directly in front of the officer’s modbox—a small, electric vehicle wrapped in armor plating and spines. The officer waited for her to shut off the engine before speaking.

  “Morning,” he said, coming around the car to stand beside Grace as she dismounted the motorcycle.

  “Good morning,” Grace replied. “I’m Grace.”

  “Deputy Rumi,” the man said. “That’s a nice ride you’ve got there.”

  “I agree.”

  “What can I help you with, Grace?”

  Why was she so nervous? She had seen and done things these people would never even imagine. She reached into her pocket and took out the badge.

  “I’m here from Sanisco,” she said, showing it to him. “I’m working with Governor Natalia Duke. She told me to show this badge to Law whenever I needed something.”

  Deputy Rumi looked down at the badge. “May I?”

  “Sure.”

  He took it from her and tapped the front a couple of times. The LED flashed red. He handed it back. “I had to check. We’ve been getting reports of modders trying to make counterfeit badges. I don’t know why.”

  “Because they can, I suppose,” Grace said, returning it to her pocket.

  “Well, any friend of the Governor is a friend of mine. What do you need?”

  “Fuel for the bike. A change of clothes. Maybe some notes if you can spare it. I’m headed south beyond the UWT border.”

  “The Governor sent you outside the border? Why?”

  “I’m doing some research. I can’t say any more than that.”

  He smiled. “Okay. It’s not my place to question Governor Duke’s motivations. Or yours. Follow me over to the station. We’ll get you what you need.”

  Deputy Rumi climbed into his car. Grace got back on the motorcycle. She followed him deeper into the town, joining a flow of pedestrians, horses, and a motley assortment of small, battery-powered scooters and boards moving through the streets.

  The people looked happy for the most part. They moved from place to place with a purpose, visiting produce markets, stopping at clothing stalls, entering saloons and eateries or other shops. They still didn’t have a ton, not compared to the country before the trife came, but none of these people knew what they were missing. Their only hint was in the condition of the buildings surrounding them, so many damaged by war. Th
ey didn’t know about the internet, movie stars, sleek sports cars, luxury handbags or any of that. They were simple people living simply.

  And Grace envied them.

  It was better they didn’t know what they had lost. It was better they had never lived in the world before. Grace had her father, but her mother had succumbed to the virus. She had watched her get weak and die. She had seen the news reports when the trife first started their killing, and she remembered the day the broadcasts ended. This had always seemed so small compared to that. But here they all were. Sheriff Duke hadn’t surrendered his hope. He had started spreading it.

  Shurrath would take all of it away. He would corrupt the best of them and use the worst. All of the simplicity would be lost to slavery.

  Deputy Rumi brought his car to a stop outside the front of one of the buildings, marked as Law by the badge painted on the stone next to the door, the letters UWT scribbled across the center. Another officer was standing beside the badge, keeping watch on the station.

  Grace climbed off the motorcycle, joining Deputy Rumi at the front of his modbox. “Expecting trouble?” she asked.

  “We had an incident a few days ago. Good officers were murdered.”

  Grace’s heart skipped ahead. “What happened?”

  “Someone stole a gas tanker from our facilities. They killed the deputies guarding it to get to it.”

  “Did anyone see them?”

  “No. It happened in the middle of the night, after lights-out. I don’t know how they were even able to see.” He looked at her, his eyes shifting to her bow. “One of our people was shot with an arrow, believe it or not. It isn’t a common weapon out here.”

  “What are you trying to say?” Grace said defensively. She didn’t enjoy playing coy with the man. She understood his anger.