Luis managed a fake smile and nod. “Of course.” He barked an order to the man on his right, who made for the lead Humvee. Luis squared his shoulders and turned to Cano. “I’ll be riding with you.”
“Yes. You will. And find someone with tracking dogs.”
Luis’s steady stare faltered slightly. “I…I’ll do my best.”
“As long as that means you’ll have them at dawn, we’re good. Don’t disappoint me right out of the gate, Luis.”
The malevolence was clear in Cano’s tone, and Luis nodded again, his mind working furiously to figure out where he was going to find dogs on short notice.
“See you in a few hours. I’ll get to work,” Luis said, and did his best not to storm off, forcing himself to breathe deeply as he willed away the rage clouding his vision at being ordered around like a prison bitch.
Chapter 9
Ruby brewed tea over a small wood fire outside the bunker. The morning sun was just beginning to warm the air twenty minutes after dawn’s first light. She was conserving her supply of kerosene for the small camp stove in the root cellar; her natural tendency to hoard had served her well since the collapse. She looked around the clearing at the trees ringing it and wondered at their tenacity in what really amounted to a desert, and then smiled at the thought that they, like she, were survivors that had managed to flourish in spite of everything the world had thrown at them.
The root cellar door opened and Sierra stepped out, carrying her camp chair, her face lined from the folded blanket she’d used as a pillow. She sniffed and moved to where Ruby was sitting by the fire.
“Morning,” Sierra said.
“Good morning. Want some tea?”
“I’d love some.”
“Grab a couple of cups, and by the time you get back, it should have steeped enough.”
Sierra was back in a minute, and Ruby poured a fragrant stream into their cups before dousing the fire with a jug of water. The two women sat contentedly, savoring the morning, and then Ruby sat forward.
“Eve get enough rest?”
Sierra nodded. “She’s a good sleeper. Won’t wake up until I shake the life half out of her.”
“She’s a remarkable child.”
“In a lot of ways. She’s been through a lot.”
“They’re resilient, aren’t they?”
Sierra’s expression darkened. “Not always.”
An uncomfortable silence hung over them until Ruby broke it. “Do you have any kids of your own?”
Sierra nodded. “I did. A boy. He would have been almost seven by now.”
“I…I’m sorry. The flu took so many.”
“He actually survived that.”
“Oh.”
“When we got relocated to Lubbock, I couldn’t take him. My cousin in Mississippi volunteered to care for him. Dallas was too dangerous, especially for a child all alone, and she lived in some sort of a prepper compound there with a bunch of like-minded folks. It seemed the safest place for him, but nothing ever turns out the way it should.” Sierra paused. “His name was Tim.”
“What happened?”
“I got word that the whole compound was wiped out by a rival gang. It was in the Crew’s area, but right on the eastern edge. Apparently this gang went to war for territory, and my cousin and Tim – the whole town, in fact – were killed in the process. What did they used to call that? Collateral damage? That’s what my son was.”
The recitation was wooden, Sierra’s tone tight, and when she took a long sip of her tea, her hand was shaking.
Ruby blinked away her reaction. “I’m sorry, Sierra. I didn’t mean to stir up bad memories.”
“It’s not your fault. There are no guarantees, right?”
“Seems not.”
Sierra sat wordlessly as a pair of doves took flight from the field and soared overhead. She watched the birds fly away and looked to the older woman, her eyes moist.
“What’s the story on Lucas? How long have you known each other?” she asked.
“Oh, my, let’s see. Until recently we hardly saw each other, but still, it has to be about three years. I was…uh, friends…with his grandfather, Hal. That’s how I know him.”
Sierra seemed surprised. “I thought you were closer.”
“Well, I’m a loner, and he is too, so we mostly kept to ourselves until…until the cartel destroyed the town, and Lucas’s ranch in the process.” Ruby swirled the tea leaves in her cup. “No guarantees, as you say. Best to be grateful for the time you have and try to enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Wise words.” Sierra hesitated. “He’s been alone as long as you’ve known him?”
Ruby nodded. “Yes.”
“That seems…odd. I mean, he’s a good man. Those are rare these days.”
Ruby smiled sadly. “His grandfather was, too. Runs in the family.” She set her cup on the ground beside her. “But you’re right about it being rare, and not just now. Been that way for as long as I’ve been drawing breath.”
“What did he do…before?”
Both women understood Sierra was referring to the collapse.
“He was a lawman. Texas Ranger.”
Sierra nodded. “That explains a lot. He’s so cool under pressure. I mean, at the hospital when he broke me out…I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“You know the saying: One riot, one ranger. They have a reputation.”
“Deserved, obviously.” She frowned. “But then why wasn’t he the sheriff back in Loving? Wouldn’t he have been a natural?”
“Might have been, but he lived pretty far out of town. And I didn’t get the impression he was all that interested in babysitting the folks there. His grandfather said he’d had a craw full from his time in El Paso.”
“Did he say why?”
Ruby scowled. “I didn’t ask.”
“So he’s always been single?” Sierra pressed.
“No. He was married. Lost his wife in the collapse,” Ruby said, her tone clipped.
“No children?”
Ruby sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Sierra, no offense, but I don’t discuss other people’s business, you know? If you have questions for Lucas, you should ask them yourself. This kind of conversation makes me very uncomfortable.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I figured that after you and he drilled me about my background, turnabout was fair play…”
“All due respect, we weren’t asking you to risk your life for us.”
“I wasn’t either.”
Ruby stood. “Just being here puts us at risk, and we both know it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find the ladies’ room and freshen up. Glad I stored a mountain of toilet paper,” she said with a fake smile.
“I can leave. You don’t have to put yourself in danger on account of me.”
“It’s not on account of you, Sierra, charming as your company is. Eve deserves better than to be out in the wilds. You two wouldn’t last long on your own, which is why Lucas is going the distance for you. So let’s consider the matter closed and concentrate on more productive uses of our time, shall we?”
“I…I wasn’t trying to pry. I’m just curious. I mean, we owe the man our lives, and he barely says two words in a day. I know nothing about him. That’s all.”
“I understand. Hopefully he’ll be back soon, and you can have a long discussion with him, ask him all about himself. Until then, leave it be, Sierra. We have bigger fish to fry than gossiping.”
Sierra offered a conciliatory smile. “Fair enough. And you do have a lot of toilet paper.”
“It was one of the things I figured I’d run short of, sooner or later, so after the collapse I rounded up as much as I could find. That, kerosene, lighters, and ammo. Between my herbs and my stash, I was pretty well set.” Ruby sighed. “But as you said, no guarantees. That was then.”
“How did you learn about herbs?” Sierra asked, her tone less adversarial, clearly trying to make amends for the earlier tension.
&nb
sp; “The Internet. It was a hobby of mine before the flu. I figured organic was always better than something made in a factory – especially medicines, where God knows what the drug companies were sticking in to cut corners. So I learned all about natural ways to achieve the same things. Mostly. Some you can’t replace, but you’d be surprised how many you can.”
“I miss vitamins.”
“Don’t really need them if you’re healthy and you eat a decent diet.” Ruby glanced at the trees and then at the root cellar door. “Now, I really need to get busy…”
“Oh, sorry, of course.”
Ruby snagged a roll of plastic-wrapped paper from one of her sealable rubber tubs and made for the trees, mulling over Sierra’s questions and wondering if she’d been too harsh with the younger woman. She hadn’t meant to be, but she was out of her comfort zone and too old to pretend she wasn’t.
That the woman hadn’t figured out that she didn’t stand a chance on her own was dangerous – almost delusional. The first thing you learned in a crisis was that, unless you had taken extraordinary steps like Ruby had, there was strength in numbers. She’d witnessed firsthand how the rules went out the window when survival was at stake, and if you appeared to be prosperous or well-equipped, it was only a matter of time before someone came for your stuff. If you were alone, unless you were in a mission-designed bunker like hers, eventually you’d be overpowered by the desperate. Even in a small town like Loving, where everyone had known each other, there had come a time when those who’d failed to plan ahead had turned on their neighbors, and the blustering men with the fanciest weapons and the newest camo gear had been the first to be attacked, their relative wealth a beacon for those on the edge.
Hal and Lucas had survived because they, like Ruby, kept a low profile, and Hal had a reputation as both capable and dangerous. Shortly after Lucas had shown up from El Paso in his loaded truck, a group of ten strangers had assaulted the ranch, and between Hal and Lucas, half of them had paid for the foolhardy effort with their lives. Word had quickly spread, and the ranch had remained untroubled after that; partly because neither man advertised how well prepared the place was for long-term survival, and partly because after the first wave of the desperate in the weeks after the collapse, those who hadn’t figured out how to live off the land had perished, leaving only those who could. Loving was no different than most places she’d heard about, and after the first year it had settled into the delicate equilibrium that had been its peaceful existence – until it had been razed.
She shook off the feeling of unease her discussion with Sierra had brought about and sighed.
“No guarantees, indeed,” she whispered, and made a mental note to better conceal the wire leading up the tree trunk to the solar panels, just in case.
Chapter 10
Lucas arrived in Mentone shortly after sunup and made straight for the mayor’s place. He secured Tango and waved away a swarm of flies that assaulted him as he walked to the entrance. Stepping up onto the small porch, he knocked on the double doors. A voice called out from inside, and shortly afterward one of the guards swung the right one open and eyed Lucas groggily.
“Yeah?”
“You open for trading?”
“What’s the hurry?”
“Got to hit the trail. You open or not?”
The mayor’s voice boomed from the depths of the building. “What is it?”
“Give me a minute,” the guard said, and shut the heavy wooden slab in Lucas’s face.
Lucas waited patiently, and a few minutes later the door reopened and the mayor glowered at him. “This better be good.”
“Need to get some supplies.”
The Raider nodded. “Got pretty near anything you could want.” He studied Lucas. “Provided you got enough to cover it.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Lucas said.
The mayor eyed his M4A1s assault rifle. “Nice piece. Especially the flash suppressor. Don’t see those every day. Where’d you get it?”
Lucas’s eyes were unsmiling. “Santa.”
“Worth a lot.”
“Worth more to me.”
“What are you looking for?”
“5.56 ammo. If you have any grenades, always a demand for those. Maybe a spare plate carrier or vest.”
The mayor grunted. “Grenades? Planning on starting a war?”
“Dangerous world out there.”
The mayor laughed and then was seized by a coughing fit, the sound gurgly and unhealthy, like swatting a wet blanket with a baseball bat. Lucas waited until it passed, and then the Raider nodded. “I knew I liked you last night. Might as well come on in. Let’s see what I can find for you.”
Lucas nodded and stepped inside. “My horse okay there?”
“Safe as the womb when you’re in my place.” The mayor eyed his M4 again. “What you got to trade?”
“Some pistols. Couple AKs. Some mags of 7.62 ball. And that ammo from last night.”
The Raider grunted. “That’s a good start.”
“Let’s look at what you have,” Lucas said.
The mayor escorted him into the back of the bar under the watchful scrutiny of the guards. When they reached the door that led to the back office, the gunman there extended his hand. “Rifle stays with me.”
“I’m not here to drink,” Lucas observed.
“Rules.”
Lucas looked to the mayor, who shrugged. “You’ll get it back.”
“I better.”
“Pistol too,” the gunman said.
Lucas unholstered the Kimber and set it on the table next to the meaty guard. The mayor eyed it without comment – merely a nod – and then led Lucas into the office and then through another door into a back room that would have been the envy of many SWAT teams. Assault rifles lined the walls, metal ammo cans rose in stacks from the baseboards, and a pile of camouflage clothing sat in the center of the room.
Lucas let out an appreciative low whistle, and the mayor grinned. “Kid in a candy store, huh?”
“Can’t afford to stay in here too long,” Lucas agreed. “Walk out broke.”
“You want grenades, I got these,” the Raider said, showing Lucas a crate with several dozen green M67 fragmentation grenades. “How many you in the market for?”
“Depends on the price.”
The mayor named a figure in ammunition, and Lucas shook his head. “Too rich for my blood. I can maybe take…four.”
“Pick your favorites.”
Lucas did, and then his eye was attracted by an oversized weapon in a corner with a rotary magazine, like a shoulder-fired revolver on steroids. He walked over to it and paused, admiring the weapon.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“Yup. Milkor MGL 40mm grenade launcher. Holds six. Fires ’em as fast as you can pull the trigger, up to four hundred yards.”
“How many rounds you have for it?”
The mayor’s eyes narrowed. “Why? I thought you were on a budget?”
“Never hurts to ask, does it?”
“Got a dozen.”
“How much you want?”
Lucas haggled for ten minutes, but in the end he agreed to a price that was probably double what the grenade launcher and projectiles were actually worth, provided that the mayor threw in a vest and the four hand grenades. The launcher would seriously increase his defensive capabilities from rifle distance, which could be the difference between life and death in an ugly pinch, he rationalized. Reluctant as he was to part with another gold maple leaf, he was willing to do so as a form of insurance. Armed with a dozen frag grenades, at that distance he could hold off a battalion and inflict serious damage almost out of range of many of the rifles in everyday use.
Lucas approached the vests almost as an afterthought and took his time sorting through them, studying the stitching and pockets for wear, evaluating the fastenings and workmanship. He concealed the increase in his breathing when he spotted the black stylized eagle and tried the vest on, fingers f
eeling for the tiny USB drive without appearing to.
He felt a small bump, almost imperceptible, and turned to the mayor. “This one will do.”
“Not as nice as yours, but still, a good choice.”
“Little blood on the front plate carrier compartment,” Lucas noted.
“Slightly used. Prior owner didn’t clean it.” The mayor looked the vest over. “You can choose a different one if it’s a problem.”
“Nah. This will do.”
“You got the coin?”
“Yes.”
Lucas slipped one of the maple leafs from his pocket and handed it to the Raider, who looked it over with a practiced eye and then bit it and studied the marks before nodding. “Where are the AKs?”
“Saddlebags, along with the magazines and the pistols.”
“Let’s go get ’em.”
They retraced their steps, and Lucas reclaimed his weapons. The guard’s eyebrows rose when he saw the Milkor, but he said nothing. The mayor walked with Lucas out to where Tango was waiting patiently, and Lucas unpacked the rifles and magazines. The mayor made a face when he saw the condition of the guns.
“You use these to dig a ditch or something?”
“They could use a cleaning,” Lucas agreed. “But they work.”
“Sure you don’t want to do a deal for your M4 or your Kimber?” the mayor tried again.
“Not interested. Sentimental value.”
The Raider looked him up and down. “Didn’t strike me as the type.”
Lucas shrugged. “Never know.”
The burly guard took the magazines and guns inside, and Lucas packed his new acquisitions into his saddlebags. When he was finished, he tipped his hat brim. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
“Likewise. Enjoy the new toys.”
“More than anyone on the receiving end.”
“Want a bottle for the road?”
“Little early for me.”
“Fair enough.”
The mayor ambled back into the building as Lucas swung into the saddle and urged Tango onto the road out of town. The man watched him from the doorway, and when Lucas was near the camp area, twisted his head and called out, “Boyd, ride after him, but keep your distance. When he stops to rest, take him out and bring me his gear. And search him thoroughly – bastard’s got more gold. I can smell it on him.”
The Day After Never Bundle (First 4 novels) Page 28