The Day After Never Bundle (First 4 novels)

by Russell Blake

  An hour after nightfall, he heard four riders galloping from the south. He estimated that they were no more than a half mile away, likely from Plains. He had to assume that the Crew also had night vision gear, so he couldn’t rely on the cover of darkness to avoid them, which left only two options: finding a hiding place or taking them on.

  The old saying from his law enforcement days came back to him as he mulled over the choices: you can’t outrun a radio. Perhaps he was reading too much into the hoofbeats, but he couldn’t imagine a lot of reasons for hard riding at night.

  Of course, they had no idea how much progress he might have made since departing Lubbock, so they were oblivious to his actual location. At least, that was his hope.

  He raised the M4 and activated the scope, and then looked through it in the direction of the commotion. Lucas could barely make the riders out and adjusted his guess of a half mile away upward to more like a mile – good for him, as it bought more maneuvering time.

  Lucas twisted in the saddle and eyed the towering shapes of the oil pumps that stretched westward, each roughly a quarter mile apart. He had earlier crossed the highway that ran northwest from Plains that the riders were following, which gave him another advantage: they were sticking to the road, so the further he could get from it, the likelier he was to evade them. He selected a pumping rig a half mile off the thoroughfare at random and urged Tango toward it. The big horse broke into a trot, and by the time the riders passed, he and Tango were concealed by the pump’s wide steel base.

  He watched through the scope as the patrol moved beyond his position and absently smoothed the horse’s mane with his free hand.

  “Easy, boy. We’ll get out of here in a few,” he whispered, and wished he had an apple or some other treat for Tango, who had performed thanklessly for weeks.

  He would remedy that when he made it back to Artesia.

  That he would, he didn’t question. Searching for a single rider on the plains, absent a spotter plane or helicopter, was looking for a needle in a haystack.

  When the riders were out of sight, he mounted Tango and spurred him west, reconciled to riding most of the night. The more miles he could put between himself and the Crew, the greater his chances of survival, and he’d push until they were both ready to drop and then sleep when he could. Lucas knew the approximate location of the Crew’s checkpoints on the main highway from his inbound journey and would, as he had then, stick to open fields far from them. That Magnus’s goons believed anyone in their right mind would use roads was a relief to Lucas – it showed that they were approaching things from an urban perspective rather than with rural expertise that would be useful on the plains, another edge he would use to his advantage.

  Lucas thought about Jacob and Eddie as he rode, trying to imagine what they had been put through, but flushed away the images that sprang to mind. Whatever they had endured, it was over by now. Lucas was no stranger to atrocity – the Mexican cartels, even back in the pre-collapse days, had been expert in torture and disfigurement, leaving mutilated corpses for discovery with messages of warning for their adversaries. It was no shock that the prison gangs who were now in control had adopted their brutal tactics – in times of flux, brutal tactics inevitably carried the day.

  That his fellow man could be so loathsome was disheartening but unsurprising, and he again wondered that his species had managed to rule the planet without wiping each other out for as long as they had. The collapse was just a trip back in time to a period when roving hordes of conquering barbarians would descend on a target and slaughter all but the women. For all mankind’s pretense of having evolved past that point, the truth was far more disappointing: a despot like Magnus had far more historical precedent than not.

  And history taught that the bad guys usually won.

  “Maybe not this time,” he murmured, swaying in the saddle, his eyelids heavy. The trail spanning into the distance glowed white in the moonlight, the tall grass on either side of it wrinkled by the dry wind.

  Chapter 42

  Luis looked up as his radio operator entered his office and neared with a slip of paper. The bottle of tequila on his desk was halfway gone, as was Luis, his sorrows only somewhat drowned by the acrid liquor, though his rage was blunted.

  “What is it?” he slurred.

  The man set the paper in front of him. Luis groped at it with fingers that felt dead and then sat back, disgusted. “Read it,” he ordered.

  “It’s for Cano. I thought you’d want to see it first.”

  Luis nodded. “Okay. So read it.”

  “Rendezvous planned for three days from now, sunset, Kola bar, Bitter Lake. Woman and child will be there.”

  Luis digested the message and sat up straighter, the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through his system sobering him somewhat. “Bitter Lake? That’s…where is that?”

  “They said it’s by Roswell. In New Mexico.”

  “The UFO place?”

  The operator nodded. “That’s the one.”

  “Shit. You have a map of the area?”

  “I found an atlas. It’s three days’ hard ride. Maybe four.”

  “Damn.” Luis did the math, his brain foggy from the alcohol. “We could make it, but just barely. Horses would be near dead by the time we got there.” Luis thought for a minute. “Why don’t they send a patrol from Lubbock?”

  “Same distance. Guess they think Cano’s a better bet than whoever they have there.”

  Luis pushed back from his desk and stood unsteadily. He glanced at the bottle and pushed it away. “Well, it was nice while it lasted,” he muttered, and held out his hand. “Give me the message.”

  The operator did as instructed and left. Luis scowled at the note like it was a venomous snake. He considered delaying presenting it to Cano or just never telling him, but shook off the idea as soon as he had it. The truth would eventually come out, and then he’d be feeding the buzzards out by the latrine trenches. No, he had to alert the man and then be ready for three grueling days to follow.

  Luis grunted to himself and walked to the door. The hotel where Cano had set up camp was only two blocks from the courthouse headquarters, and the walk might help him work off some of the booze. He already knew that they’d be riding all night and much of the following one – the math required that they get in at least fifty-something miles per day, which would likely kill a few of the horses if they weren’t careful. They’d have to travel light and see if they could commandeer more animals on the way north.

  But it was possible to do it.

  They’d just all be about as beat as their steeds by the time they arrived.

  Luis’s boots thumped against the dusty pavement as he walked, the stars slim illumination in the midnight sky. His head was clearing as he neared the hotel, but still, he nearly fell face forward when a voice called out from the darkness by the entry.

  “Stop, or I blow your head off.”

  “I’m here to see Cano. It’s Luis.”

  “He’s asleep.”

  “It’s important.”

  A Crew thug stepped from the gloom, his eyes slits in a face that had taken a lifetime of punches, with a Kalashnikov in hand, its snout pointed at Luis. “He’s third room from the end on the lower floor. Better be an emergency, for your sake.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  “It’s a promise.”

  Luis followed the path along the peeling wall until he found the door. He rapped authoritatively and waited. Cano’s distinctive voice rang out. “Good way to get killed.”

  “Cano, it’s Luis. We got a radio message from Houston. It’s important.”

  The door opened. Cano stood shirtless in the darkness, his wounds now completely healed. Green ink snakes writhed along his abs, satanic symbols adorned his chest, and a stylized grim reaper grinned from one shoulder, scythe in one bony hand and a skeletal finger pointing with the other.

  “Better be. What is it?”

  “Something about a rende
zvous at a lake north of here. The woman and girl.”

  “What?” Cano exclaimed. “Give me the message.”

  Luis fished in his vest and handed him the slip of paper. Cano read it twice by the moonlight and glowered at him.

  “When did this come in?”

  “Just a few minutes ago.”

  “You know where this lake is?”

  Luis nodded. “A long way.”

  “Be specific,” Cano barked.

  “About a hundred sixty miles. In New Mexico.” Luis told him what he knew and answered several terse questions about the logistics involved in getting to the rendezvous point in time.

  Cano nodded. “Get a dozen of your best men ready to ride. I’ll round up the same of mine. I want to be on the trail within the hour.”

  Luis grunted assent, unsurprised by the order. “It might take longer to secure provisions and ready the horses.”

  “See that it doesn’t.”

  The door slammed in Luis’s face. He turned, livid at the summary dismissal, and all of his earlier resentment came flooding back. If this was how the next three days were going to go, where he was expected to act as Cano’s lapdog, it would take more than tequila to quell his fury. He considered confronting the Crew boss on it now, before Luis was surrounded by his men to watch his embarrassment, but thought better of it. If they found the woman and child, Cano would be out of his hair, and things would return to normal. If they failed, Cano would depart in disgrace. Either way, this was a temporary situation he’d just have to grin and bear.

  Luis slid his two-way from his tactical vest and radioed his orders to his lieutenant, who greeted the news without comment. He retraced his steps to the courthouse and compiled a mental list of everything they would need, and wondered how in the hell he would get it all collected in an hour. He decided to take the approach smart leaders had been using since time immemorial: Luis called his lieutenant into his office, ignoring the man’s sleepy expression, and delegated most of it.

  When the man trudged off, Luis took a final swig of the tequila and set it aside, resigned to an almost impossible ordeal where everything would have to go perfectly for them to reach the lake by the appointed time.

  Chapter 43

  Lucas arrived at the Artesia fortifications well after dark and obtained permission to enter the town after the wary guards checked with Bruce to verify his bona fides. He was beyond tired from the six days of riding to and from Lubbock, and he was looking forward to a hot meal and a decent night’s sleep. He’d calculated that if they left at dawn, they could easily make it to Bitter Lake by dusk, the distance do-able even with plentiful rest stops.

  Lucas entered Bruce’s property and the floodlights blinked on. Ruby and Sierra burst from the trailer’s front door as he neared, and he offered a weary smile as he dismounted. Sierra drew near, her intent to hug him obvious, and he shook his head.

  “Let me take a shower first. Been a long ride.”

  She hugged him anyway. “I don’t care.”

  Ruby watched without comment from the entrance. Lucas glanced at her and she nodded to him. “Nice to have you back. Trip uneventful?”

  He pulled away from Sierra reluctantly. “About what I expected.”

  Sierra’s face fell. “Then he…he wasn’t alive?”

  “Didn’t say that,” Lucas said, unstrapping his saddle and lifting it off Tango, along with his saddlebags.

  “Then he was?”

  Lucas led the horse to the water trough and removed the bridle. The stallion drank greedily while Jax and Nugget ambled over to greet him. Lucas turned to Sierra and nodded.

  “Yes. We’ve got a meet set up for tomorrow at sunset. Going to have to ride all day, but it’s done.”

  “What! Why…that’s awesome!” Sierra exclaimed. “Where?”

  “Up by Roswell.”

  Bruce appeared at the door. “Did I hear Roswell?”

  Ruby nodded. “Yes. Why?”

  “Oh. Well, it’s kind of dicey up there if you don’t know your way around and have an in with the locals…”

  “What do you mean, dicey?” Sierra asked.

  “They have the reputation of being a shoot-first bunch. Why? You planning a trip?”

  “Could be,” Lucas said, his tone guarded.

  “Then I best go with you, or you might not make it.”

  “Done okay so far,” Lucas said, his face a blank.

  “But if all of you are headed there, you really want to take a chance with them?” Bruce shot back, glancing at the women.

  Sierra studied her boots and then met Lucas’s eyes. “I told Bruce about Shangri-La, Lucas. He had a right to know.”

  “You what?” Ruby blurted.

  “He cornered me – he said we’d have to leave immediately if I didn’t. What was I supposed to do?” she protested.

  “Point is, I know all about it, Lucas,” Bruce said. “So there’s no reason to keep me in the dark.”

  Lucas fixed him with an icy stare. “Takes a special sort to threaten to throw women and a kid into the wild.”

  “I wasn’t going to do it. But I have every right to know what I’m involved in. Even if you believe everyone’s just here to be used by you to advance your interests,” Bruce said. “If I’m at risk because of something you’re involved in, and you’re staying at my place, that’s reasonable.”

  “Didn’t realize you were so philosophical,” Ruby said.

  “Come on, Ruby. I wouldn’t show up at your place asking you to hide me and then stonewall. I get why you did it, but that doesn’t make it right.” Bruce paused. “Besides, it’s done, and you can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube, so maybe we should be discussing the future, not the past?”

  “How was…you know who?” Sierra asked quietly.

  “Good,” Lucas replied, still staring holes through Bruce.

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s all for now,” Lucas said, his tone indicating that there would be no more discussion about it with Bruce around.

  “Lucas, I can help you get through Roswell safely,” Bruce said. “Don’t snub me. There’s no reason to.”

  “Why are you feeling so helpful?” Lucas asked, his skepticism obvious.

  Bruce sighed. “Business is terrible. This place is dying for me. I had no real reason to stay except that there was no better option.” He shrugged. “Now that I know about your destination, there is. I thought that would be obvious.”

  Sierra’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said it was all BS?”

  “Sure. Most stories like it are. But if you’re meeting someone who will take you there, that moves it from the pile of idiocies that circulate constantly and into the real world.” Bruce favored Lucas with a complacent expression. “I’m a pragmatic guy. If you’re off someplace better, I’ll pull my weight to be part of the group. I know this area, I have a lot of gear that could be helpful, and I can repair anything.”

  “What kind of gear?” Ruby asked.

  “Portable solar chargers. Medical supplies. Spare parts for that AR-15 of Sierra’s, that will also work with Lucas’s rifle. Batteries. Lighters. You want me to go on?”

  Lucas and Ruby exchanged a glance. “That’s an impressive list,” Ruby admitted.

  “Plus, I know where you’re headed. So you’d be stupid to leave me behind. I might tell someone.”

  Nobody spoke. When Lucas finally nodded, it was with clear reluctance. “I could always shoot you on the way out.”

  Bruce shook his head. “You don’t strike me as the type.”

  “Always a first time.”

  “People don’t change who they are. Come on, Lucas. I know you don’t like me much, but you don’t know me. I can help. Anytime you meet someone who can, why would you turn them down? That makes no sense.”

  Lucas carried his saddle into the trailer, and Ruby toted the saddlebags behind him. Bruce brought up the rear and closed the door and bolted it once they were all inside. Lucas set his gear down by t
he door and knelt to say hello to Eve.

  “How you holding up, Eve?”

  “Good,” she said.

  “You been behaving?”

  “Always,” Sierra said.

  “She’s a little angel,” Ruby chimed in.

  “We’re going for a ride tomorrow. You want to come?” Lucas asked.

  Her blue eyes swiveled to his and he felt the odd electric current sensation throb through his skull. “Yes, please.”

  Lucas looked up at Sierra. “At least that’s decided.”

  “What about me?” Bruce asked.

  Lucas blinked twice, obviously irritated. “Let me get something to eat and rinse off while I think about it.”

  Bruce looked ready to argue further, but wisely held his tongue when Sierra gave him a small shake of her head.

  “I’ll make you the biggest omelet you’ve ever seen, with rabbit stew inside. Sound good?” Ruby offered.

  “You have no idea,” Lucas said, and made for the bedroom, freeing the Velcro fasteners of his flak jacket as he walked.

  Sierra and Ruby prepared the meal while Bruce sat on the couch, staring glumly at his computer station, lost in thought. Ten minutes later Lucas emerged wearing new pants and a fresh shirt, his face shaved clean, burnished the shade of an old penny from the sun. Sierra gave him a beaming smile as he sat at the cheap dining table and placed a plate in front of him.

  “You clean up pretty good,” she said.

  Lucas dug into the meal without comment, eating like a starved man, washing down the heaping portion with a liter of water. When he was finished, he sat back and eyed Bruce.

  “Let’s be clear. I don’t like the tactics you used on Sierra.”

  “I got that.”

  “But you’re right that we could use any help we can get. How are you with a gun?”

  “Good as any, I guess.”

  “You ever been in a firefight?”

  “I’ve had to shoot my way out of a few situations,” Bruce said.