The Day After Never Bundle (First 4 novels)

by Russell Blake

  “Lucas, don’t say anything. Please. I’m scared, and I know that soon we could all be killed. I want to be with you before that happens, before the world turns upside down and we lose each other. I know you’re angry with me and you feel betrayed, and you can still feel all those things tomorrow. Tonight, just hold me.”

  Lucas, against his better judgment, wrapped his arms around her. He could feel the flutter of her pulse, delicate as a butterfly’s wings on his skin, through the sheer fabric of the dress. They stood together for a long moment, and then she rose on tiptoes and kissed him. He met her lips and remembered everything from their prior tryst, her passion and urgency and the lingering glow of their lovemaking, and the embrace became something more than comforting a frightened woman.

  She pulled away from him, twisted the lock shut, and pulled her dress over her head. Lucas began to speak, but she shushed him and returned to his arms, and then they were lost in each other, his best intentions discarded at the feel of her supple skin and her curves and a hunger that demanded to be satisfied no matter what the cost.

  Chapter 47

  Magnus was so enraged he could barely see. Blood pounded in his temples as he listened to the reports from his subordinates in the command tent – mercifully, located on the opposite side of the vehicles from the attack. Jude was reciting the damage in an emotionless voice, and his lieutenants, including Luis, who had been ordered to attend, waited to answer any questions that arose that Jude couldn’t field.

  “Eight of the buses are out of commission. Bullets wrecked the engines. Another six are sitting on flats. But the worst on the equipment side is the fuel. We have nothing but what’s in the tanks,” Jude explained.

  “Enough to get us there?” Magnus asked.

  “Maybe. But we’ll never make it back.”

  “I’m not concerned with that part. We’ll figure something out.” Magnus thought for a moment. “Can the flats be fixed? Patched? Or were the tires completely destroyed?”

  “Most can be patched. We can use the generator to run the compressors to inflate them, and we have plenty of patch material. I just don’t know how long they’ll last in this heat, as the altitude increases.”

  “They just need to get us to Los Alamos.”

  “Right.” Jude paused. “Now to the men. We lost two hundred and seven, with another forty-six wounded seriously enough to take them out of the fight. Another twenty with wounds that aren’t critical.”

  “Damn. That leaves us with, what, six-something to mount the attack?”

  “Correct.”

  “How do you plan to attend to them?”

  “We’re working on a system. I put Luis in charge of that.”

  “Who?” Magnus snapped.

  Jude indicated Luis among the men, who cleared his throat. “We’re thinking that we’ll need to set up a medical unit here. Many of the men can’t be moved.”

  Magnus frowned. “We can’t divide our army to care for a few wounded. Move them.”

  “Most will die if we try.”

  Magnus shrugged. “Then they’ll die. I’m not leaving medics and supplies we might need for the battle.”

  “But–”

  “You heard me. Now what about the attackers?” Magnus demanded.

  “We recovered four bodies. We believe at least one, possibly more, got away.”

  “Only four men did all this? Impossible.”

  “We know there were more – it’s a question of how many. The machine gun was gone. Just empty ammo cans and hundreds of shell casings.”

  “Can’t you track them?”

  “Not at night. We could be riding into an ambush. We’ve lost enough men already without throwing fifty more into an unknown scenario.” Jude regarded his men. “We’ll just have to be alert to the possibility of another attack as we travel. We can put scouts on horseback ahead and on either flank. With radios.”

  “This is proving disastrous, and we haven’t even gone into battle yet,” Magnus fumed. “Over a third of my men dead…”

  “We knew this would be costly,” Jude reminded him.

  “Not the trip, you fool. The trip was supposed to be the easy part.”

  There was a long, tense pause. Luis shifted and took a small step forward. “Maybe we should call for reinforcements?”

  Magnus’s eyes narrowed as he studied Luis with obvious disdain. “We’re not waiting for anything. We’ve still got our long guns. We’ll pound them to pieces before we attack. I’d be surprised if there’s anything left once the howitzers are done with them.” His voice strengthened. “Now all of you – get out of my sight. I need to think.”

  The men moved to the entry and Magnus snapped his fingers. “Not you, Jude. You stay.”

  Luis and the others left, and Luis circled back around to the far side of the tent to see if he could hear anything. He’d thought his suggestions had been good ones, but of course Magnus had rejected them – the same genius that had gotten so many of his men killed on this wild-goose chase thought himself above listening to anyone.

  He heard Magnus’s distinctive guttural voice and froze as he made out the words.

  “I’d say kill him now, except that we need every available man who can fight.”

  “I put him in charge of something harmless to make him feel like he had authority. I’m sorry he popped out with that idiocy,” Jude said.

  “Cano was too patient. When this is over, we eliminate the Locos on the way back to Houston. If he’s any example of them, good riddance. I don’t need weakness in our ranks.”

  Jude’s tone softened. “Maybe he’ll take a bullet in the fight.”

  Magnus chuckled. “See to it. Now how long is it going to take to get rolling again? We can double-load the buses for one day. It won’t kill the men.”

  Luis didn’t wait to hear any more. He turned and was creeping away when he heard a sound from his left. He reached for his pistol as a voice whispered from the gloom.

  “They talking about you?” Duke asked.

  Luis had spent time with Duke and Aaron sourcing supplies in Albuquerque; they were the only two who didn’t treat him like a leper.

  Duke tried again. “Wouldn’t buy any green bananas if it was. Not long for this world, I reckon.”

  “You were spying on me,” Luis said, his words hushed.

  “No, I was taking a leak. Couldn’t help but hear. You, on the other hand – didn’t see you peeing.”

  Luis didn’t say anything. Duke motioned for Luis to follow him out of earshot of the command tent. When they were well away, Duke stopped and faced Luis. “So what are you gonna do? Sounds like your new boss is going to wipe the floor with you.”

  “I don’t know,” Luis admitted. “Why? What do you care?”

  Duke looked around and leaned into Luis. “Not sure this is the winning hand anymore. I’m thinking it might be time to hit the trail.”

  “Where can you go that they won’t find you?”

  “Me, they won’t care about. You, on the other hand…sounds like you really pissed off Magnus. I hear he holds a grudge.”

  “Then…what?”

  “There’s one place they can’t get you.”

  Luis shook his head. “I don’t follow.”

  “Where we’re headed.”

  “What are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?”

  “What if I told you I knew some people there?” Duke asked, the story of Eve and Sierra well circulated among the troops.

  Luis absorbed the question. “They’re dead. Or will be soon.”

  “That’s not the way it’s played out so far, though, is it?”

  Luis frowned. “There’s only three hundred of them. Remember? They don’t stand a chance – we outnumber them and outgun them.”

  “Like they didn’t stand a chance tonight? Seems like a handful of men took out a lot of Magnus’s force in less time than it takes me to zip up.” Duke paused. “So far your glorious leader has underestimated them at every step, and
now he’s down a third of his men, his vehicles are trashed, and he’s facing a long road that’s not only mined but could hide ambushes. I’d say the other team’s been pretty smart to this point – they brought the battle to him, dealt some body blows, and have everyone second-guessing just how easy this is going to be. If they keep playing things like they have, my money’s on them, not Magnus. I don’t care how many hoodlums he trucks into the wilds.”

  “We’d be heading into certain death, assuming we even made it there. The howitzers will finish them. It won’t matter how clever they are. He’s got truckloads of shells – enough to destroy a small city.”

  Duke looked off into the darkness. When he turned back to Luis, his face was creased with a smirk.

  “What if he didn’t?”

  Chapter 48

  Brett and Eric had dragged the heavy machine gun to the horses, fueled by adrenaline and the knowledge that they were the last of the sniping detail left. They returned for the ammo cans and spotted a swarm of Crew working their way up the slope – too many to tackle now that their position had been exposed.

  They trotted back to the animals, each toting two of the heavy cans, and were in the saddle and galloping away moments later, the glow of the burning tanker behind them.

  They rode hard for twenty minutes, and then Brett eased up.

  Eric turned to him. “What are we slowing for?”

  “We can’t just ride away.”

  “Why not? It’s only the two of us.”

  “We’ve still got four hundred rounds and the gun. That could inflict some serious damage.”

  “We did inflict damage. Now it’s time to live to fight another day.”

  Brett shook his head. “Not enough. They didn’t send us out here to turn tail with half our ammo. John didn’t give his life so we could bug out.”

  “Going back is suicide.”

  “I agree. So we have to hit them where they aren’t expecting it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Think about it. They assume we’ve taken off. Battle’s over. They’re probably scraping their dead off the ground. So we circle around to the opposite ridge on the west side, hammer them hard and fast, and then bail once we’re out of ammunition – not before. If we’re lucky, we can neutralize at least another hundred, which is a hundred less we’ll have to take on in the canyons.” Brett paused. “Plus, it will seriously blow their minds.”

  Eric shook his head. “They’re probably tracking us right now.”

  “Not at night, with mines. We know there aren’t any here. But they don’t.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “I do. We’ll get into position and hit them a few hours before dawn. We’ll be gone before they can react.” Brett smiled. “Last hundred rounds will go into the vehicles that are towing the big guns.”

  “Why not try to hit the howitzers?”

  “The ammo will probably just bounce off. But if they can’t move them…”

  “I can always try to take out the trailer tires while you’re hammering them with the Browning,” Eric mused, slowly coming around.

  Brett nodded. “Not a bad idea.”

  Three hours later they were on the opposite hill, behind a rock formation, watching the Crew encampment through their night vision goggles. The M2 was set up and ready for action, cans of ammo next to it.

  Brett nudged Eric and pointed to a large white tent. “Must be something special in there. Maybe we should hit that first?”

  “Nah. If there was anyone in it at this hour, it would be lit. It’s dark as your mama’s…”

  Motion near one of the trucks drew Brett’s attention and he swiveled his head to see. There, in the heavy shadows, two men darted along one side of a tractor trailer to where a howitzer was connected to the tow bar. He watched as a third man led three horses away from the column of vehicles, moving toward the ravine that cut through the hill where they were positioned.

  Eric whispered to Brett, “What the hell’s that all about?”

  “Don’t know,” Brett said, watching intently as the pair reached the long gun. One of them unslung a satchel from his shoulder and placed it on the top of the weapon while the other watched, holding an assault rifle. The first man gave the watcher a thumbs-up, and they ran together to the next gun and repeated the process.

  “I’ll be damned…” said Eric in wonder. “We have anyone working on the inside?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Looks like we do now.”

  A flashlight beam swept the side of the truck, and three guards appeared around the cab, startling the two men, who froze. Another beam joined the first, and then the night erupted with automatic rifle fire as one of the saboteurs shot at the guards while the one who’d placed the satchels ran toward the man with the horses.

  “What do we do?” Eric asked, and then Brett was firing the Browning, cutting down four more guards who were coming at a sprint to intercept the shooter by the howitzer.

  Under Brett’s covering fire, the two men made it to the horses, and the one with the rifle extracted something from his pocket and held it toward the trailers. Both satchels detonated with loud whumps, and then they were on horseback, riding for all they were worth as Brett emptied the M2 at anything that moved, buying the riders time.

  More Crew gunmen emerged from the buses, and Brett loaded a new belt and gunned them down, ignoring the snap of bullets and the whine of ricochets off the rocks near him. When there were no more fighters to shoot, he turned his aim to the trucks and buses, inflicting as much damage as he could with his final rounds, pounding the remaining howitzer’s tow vehicle before the machine gun was empty again.

  He was changing the ammo cans and locking the third belt in place when an RPG exploded directly below him, sending a shower of rock skyward and deafening both Brett and Eric. They exchanged a dazed look and struggled to their feet to make for their waiting horses, narrowly avoiding another explosion that would have killed them both had they remained in place. Eric stumbled several times as he staggered to his animal, and when Brett helped him the final yards, his arm came away slick with blood.

  Eric climbed into the saddle, his face white from shock, and Brett swung up into his, lips in a tight line.

  “I’m hit pretty bad, Brett,” Eric managed in a ragged whisper.

  “Just hang on, Eric. Let’s get out of here and we’ll deal with it.”

  Brett gave the twisted remains of the Browning a final look over his shoulder as he spurred his horse into the gloom, ignoring the burning pain in his leg from gashes caused by flying rock chips, and offered a silent prayer of gratitude that he’d survived the second pitched battle of the night.

  It was only after a few minutes that he realized Eric’s horse was racing after him without a rider. He slowed and considered turning around, but shots from the crest convinced him there was little to be gained, and he ducked down and urged his horse to greater speed, confident he could easily outrun the Crew fighters following on foot and be long gone by the time dawn had broken.

  He set off after the trio that had sabotaged the Howitzers, unsure of why they’d acted as they had or who they were, but aware that whoever they were, they had a common enemy, and in the post-collapse world that was as good a basis for cooperation as any.

  Chapter 49

  It was late morning by the time Brett had led Luis, Duke, and Aaron through the maze of canyons and into the verdant valley hidden from discovery by the ring of peaks at the top of the world. They’d ridden hard through the night and their horses were blown out by the time they arrived; on the final stretch to the compound the animals were on their last legs.

  Duke had explained the situation when Brett had caught up to them. After a tense exchange, Brett had agreed to show them to safety. His distrust of Luis was based on his appearance and prison-yard demeanor, but he’d accepted that the former cartel thug was genuine in his hatred of the Crew and his commitment to seeing them defeated, a
nd in this situation, any cooperation against their common enemy had to be considered.

  Elliot, Michael, and Lucas were waiting outside the main building when they rode up, the sentries having radioed their arrival so they could be met and interrogated by the leadership. Duke’s face split with a wide grin at the sight of Lucas’s familiar dusting of beard under the straight brim of his ubiquitous beaver-felt hat. Lucas nodded in greeting as the older man lowered himself from the saddle, followed by Aaron, who offered a tight smile.

  Lucas’s gaze locked on Luis and his jaw clenched. “Friend of yours?” he asked.

  “You could say that. Mutual objectives is more like it. Allies,” Duke explained. “This is Luis. Former head of the Locos. Now on the run from Magnus, who wants his head on a pike.”

  Lucas didn’t respond or drop his eyes. “Locos, huh? Lost a bunch, I hear.”

  “That’s in the past. Now I’m…a free agent,” Luis said.

  Lucas had explained who Duke and Aaron were to Michael and Elliot, but Luis was an unknown. “Or a spy,” Lucas said.

  Luis shook his head. “News flash – Magnus knows your location. He knows your strength. The Apache sold you out. There’s nothing to spy on.”

  “Why are you here?” Elliot demanded.

  “To help,” Luis said simply. “My survival odds are best if you win. So I’m placing my bets on you. I know all about Magnus’s strategy, his force’s size and weak points, his approach, his resources. I bring a lot to the table, so I’m not coming begging.”

  Duke nodded agreement. “He blew up two of the remaining three big guns. Took them out of the game. That alone should get him a medal.”

  “How?” Lucas asked, his suspicion obvious.

  “I’d gotten my hands on a decent amount of explosives in Albuquerque for Magnus. We rigged up a couple of detonators to a wireless receiver, and kaboom,” Duke explained.