The fighters continued across the front lawn and poured into the house, and Snake and Zach heard bursts of shooting from inside as the Crew gunmen moved from room to room. The volleys continued for several minutes, and then silence enveloped the street again, the battle over as suddenly as it had started.
Snake rose from where he’d been crouching and made his way down the street, and Zach followed, rifle in hand. When they reached the house, Derek was issuing orders to his men, preparing them for the counterattack that was sure to follow as the warlord’s loyal circle arrived.
Two fighters emerged from the mansion with a wounded man between them, his white shirt soaked with blood from a stomach wound and crimson streaming down his paunchy face from a gash in his forehead. They dragged him to Snake, who sneered at the warlord contemptuously.
“Well, well, well. The mighty Victor,” Snake said. “You don’t look so good. Gut shot, huh? I hear that’s an ugly way to go.”
The warlord’s eyes widened when he recognized Snake’s voice. Snake flipped his goggles up and waited until his eyes adjusted before continuing.
“Your assassin botched the job.”
“You…” Victor managed with a wince.
“Yes, me. You really thought I’d let you come at me like that and there wouldn’t be consequences? You must be stupider than you look.”
Victor surprised Snake by spitting blood in his face. Snake rubbed the blob away and turned to Derek. “Hang him by his arms from the streetlight. His carcass can serve as a reminder to anyone else who wants to cross me of what happens when they try. Leave him up until the birds peck his eyes out. Let his men see how he shit himself as he died – the mighty Victor, now just another piece of garbage for the buzzards.”
Derek nodded and gave a command. The pair dragged the warlord to an iron pole and were lashing his wrists when shooting echoed from down the block. Zach touched Snake’s arm.
“Take cover. Round two’s getting underway.”
More shooting decided the matter, and Snake darted across the street to the cemetery, where dozens of his fighters waited quietly for Victor’s men to show themselves, the night’s brutal work not even close to done.
Three hours later, the sun rose over a street slick with blood. Derek had taken command of the area, and the bodies of the warlord’s loyal entourage lay strewn like cordwood in the gutters. Zach and Snake strode back to the mansion. The stink of death rose from the pavement like toxic mist, the long night of death over, but Snake’s even longer day of reckoning only about to begin.
“Think we’re in the clear now?” he asked.
Zach nodded. “The next forty-eight hours will tell, but I’d guess so. Nobody in their right mind is going to want to wind up like these slobs.”
“So we stay for only two days?”
Zach shook his head. “No. I’d remain for at least a week, maybe longer. You need to show that you’re in complete control and don’t have to rush back to Houston to maintain your hold.”
Snake absorbed the words and nodded. “You’ll stay with me, of course?”
Zach favored Snake with an equable expression. “Of course.”
Chapter 21
Tulsa, Oklahoma
“The second coming?” Lucas repeated. “Don’t tell Eve, or you’ll never get her to eat her vegetables.”
“Lucas, I’m serious. That’s what it says.”
“I don’t doubt it. People get all kinds of crazy ideas in their heads.”
“They made a pamphlet, Lucas. That’s pretty serious, in a place where everyone’s starving.”
“Let me see it,” he said, his voice resigned. Sierra handed the paper to him and he skimmed the poorly written tract, every third word misspelled or in all capital letters and exclamation points substituting for any other punctuation. When he finished, he laughed. “Like I said. Crazy.”
“But why would they put her picture on it? Why her?”
“Could be because the Crew circulated the photo, so it was one of the few they could find? It’s not like they have computers in the nuthouse.”
“I don’t know,” she said doubtfully. “Someone went to a lot of trouble.”
“When things go bad, people latch onto anything. Whoever came up with this was probably looking for a way to seem important. Starting your own spin on a religion isn’t a bad bet, especially when the shit’s hit the fan. So they tweaked the Bible a little, inserted someone the Crew was looking for, invented a reason why, and presto, suddenly they’re important. Maybe people are even offering them food and drink. Tithing them. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“You’re probably right. Still, you have to admit it’s weird.”
“No question.”
He folded the pamphlet and slid it into a pocket of his flak jacket – you never threw anything away lest you find yourself needing it later, and paper was in short supply. Then Lucas picked up the pace, and they continued up the street until they arrived at the university grounds. Lucas looked around and settled on a building across the street, where a hand-painted sign with “Trading Post” scrawled across it in childish script hung above a blown-out storefront with steel bars running across it. Four toughs with rifles loitered in the shade outside, watching them ride up.
Lucas and Arnold dismounted and nodded to the men. “Afternoon, gents,” Arnold said. “We’re looking for a working shortwave radio we can use. There one inside?”
A large man with a bald head and a face that looked like it had been on the receiving end of a shotgun blast looked them up and down before speaking. “He rents time on it. Owner’s name is Rob.”
Arnold adjusted his hat. “Mind if we go in?”
“It’s a free country. But you got to leave the artillery with us.”
Lucas shrugged. “Here you go.” He handed the big guard his M4 and Kimber and waited as Arnold did the same.
The man inspected the Kimber appreciatively and waved them into the building.
The interior of the shop was dark, and it was obvious from the wares on display that trading in Tulsa wasn’t a way to get rich. They approached a counter at the back of the store and stopped when another big man, this one with the distinctive facial tattoos affected by the Crew, materialized through a door in the rear.
“What do you boys need?” the man asked.
“Heard you have a radio,” Arnold explained.
“That’s right. Costs one round per minute to use it.”
Arnold fished three bullets from his flak jacket. “Let’s try three for starters.”
The man grinned, revealing gold front teeth. “Name’s Rob.”
“Nice to meet you, Rob,” Arnold said. “Where’s the set?”
“In the back.”
Lucas eyed Rob. “The Crew’s made it this far north?”
Rob’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you say that?”
“No offense. The ink. Distinctive.”
Rob nodded. “Used to be. Not anymore. That was a life I left behind.” He held Lucas’s stare.
“So you’re not affiliated?”
“Not for two years.”
“I didn’t think they let you quit.”
“They stay out of Tulsa. Not their turf. They leave me alone; I leave them alone. Besides, I was small fry. They don’t bother tracking down their foot soldiers if they cut loose unless they stick around and ask for it. I didn’t.”
Arnold took off his hat and placed it on the counter. “So…the radio?”
“Follow me.”
Rob led them into a smaller room where a battered shortwave transmitter sat on a table in the corner. Lucas appraised the device and the plug in the wall. “You have juice?”
The big trader nodded. “Solar. Only works during the day.” He sat down at the radio, powered it on, and gave Arnold a quick tutorial. Arnold listened as though he’d never seen a radio before, his face a blank, and then took a seat in front of the transmitter and twisted toward Rob.
“Won’t be more than a couple
of minutes.”
Rob took the hint and joined Lucas at the far end of the room. “Come on. Looks like your buddy wants some privacy.”
“He’s like that.”
“I mind my own business.”
They made their way back to the store, and Rob studied Lucas’s flak jacket. “Where you from?”
“Texas.”
“Long way.”
“And then some.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t run into any trouble. It’s pretty hairy outside the city. Lot of ugly out there.”
“I can take care of myself.”
Rob nodded. “No doubt.”
“We did run across something strange, though. Bunch of bodies that had been mutilated. That happen a lot around here?”
The trader’s face could have been carved from mahogany. “What do you mean, mutilated?”
Lucas gave him a brief description. When he was done, Rob rubbed the back of his neck absently. “Yeah, that sounds about right. There’s a gang of scavengers working the area that are meaner than striped snakes. They do shit like that.”
“Why?”
“They say they’re a cult – call themselves the Bones – but I think they’re just wannabe nuts. Best I can tell, they think the mutilation makes them scarier.”
“Worked for me.”
“Where was this?”
Lucas shrugged. “Can’t say exactly. Maybe a day’s ride west.”
“Damn shame to hear that. Nobody deserves to go that way.”
“You must have seen plenty in your day.”
“Nothing like that.” He sighed. “But it makes me doubly glad I got out when I did. World’s turned into hell. For good reason. All part of the plan. Like the flood in the Good Book – cleans the slate. They’ll get their comeuppance for what they did. Won’t be long.”
“Wish I could believe that.”
“You best believe it. I gave up the life when I found religion, and it’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” Rob tilted his head at Lucas’s flak jacket. “I see you got one of those flyers, huh?”
“Oh, this?” Lucas asked, tapping the pocket where part of the pamphlet was sticking out. “Yeah. Preacher was handing them out down the street.”
“That right there’s the way to salvation, cowboy. Damned straight.”
“I didn’t really get a chance to look at it.”
“I’d study on it if I was you. Lord works in mysterious ways. That came to you for a reason – there are no accidents. You can either ignore the call and burn in hell for eternity, or you can wake up and atone. Nothing in between.”
“There’s a picture of a girl. What’s that all about?”
“She’s the one. Read the paper. It’s clear.”
“Yeah? First I heard of it.”
“It’s spreading, brother. Can’t keep it secret. Evil doesn’t win this one in the end. Study on the message and you’ll see – it all fits.” Rob fell silent and Lucas exhaled in relief. It was just his luck to run into a zealot for company.
Arnold emerged from the back and walked toward them. “Going to need to use it again in a few hours. That work for you?”
“Sure. You manage the channel selector okay? It can be funky sometimes.”
“No problem.” Arnold tapped his stomach. “Anywhere we can get some food around here?”
“Few places further down the street, but they’re iffy. If you’re going to try them, stick to potatoes – no telling what the meat is or how long it’s been stewing.”
“Water safe?” Lucas asked.
“Watch them boil it. They’ll tell you they do, but best to watch.”
“We’ll be back after we eat.”
“I’m around till dark.”
Arnold accompanied Lucas out the door and they retrieved their guns. Lucas leaned toward him as they walked to the horses. “Well?”
“They’re going to check with Elliot’s contact in St. Louis. Apparently the compound here was just helping out as a relay point.”
“Did you know that going in?”
Arnold shook his head. “They don’t tell me everything.”
“Need to know,” Lucas said.
“That’s right. Smart. If we’d been captured and interrogated, all they’d have gotten was Tulsa.”
“And the location of the new sanctuary.”
“No plan’s perfect.”
The group ate in silence at a greasy spoon that had more roaches and flies per table than menu offerings. Lucas had counseled them about the trader’s warning, and everyone had opted for boiled potatoes and scrambled eggs, but only once Colt had negotiated with the owner to be able to watch the cook break the eggs and boil the water. The food was tasteless and the plates chipped and stained, but after two weeks on the road it was practically chateaubriand and Pétrus.
Once they were finished, Lucas told them about Rob’s enthusiastic endorsement of the second coming of Eve, and Arnold shook his head in amazement. “Maybe the virus had the right idea. The planet wouldn’t be all the poorer for being rid of us as a species.”
“Maybe,” Sierra countered. “But the dogs and horses wouldn’t have anyone to keep them company.”
When they got back to the trading post, Sierra accompanied Arnold and Lucas in, uncomfortable with the leering stares of the guards outside.
Rob looked up from the counter as they entered. “Who’s this?” he asked, eyeing her appreciatively.
“None of your business,” Sierra snapped.
He took in the eye of Providence tattoo on her arm and raised an eyebrow. “Nice tat.”
“I see you’ve got one too. Small world,” she said.
“Let’s get this over with,” Lucas said.
“Sure thing, boss man,” Rob said, and led them into the rear of the shop.
After another leer at Sierra, Rob left them in the radio room, and Arnold went to work. He used the default channel first, and when he reached Elliot, the Englishman offered a terse greeting and instructed him to switch to channel six.
Arnold spun the dial to ten and whispered to Lucas and Sierra, “We add four to whatever channel he says, and we switch channels every twenty seconds or so. That makes it practically impossible for anyone to get more than a snatch of the transmission.”
Elliot’s voice came over the speakers. “All right. I spoke to my associate. He’s sending a group to rendezvous with you in four days. He was shocked to hear about the incident, but he didn’t believe it was related. Over.”
“We confirmed that here, but we’re not a hundred percent convinced. Over.”
“Switch to channel nine.”
When they were on the new channel, Elliot continued. “You have four days to get to Springfield, Missouri. It’s a hundred and sixty miles. Can you make it? Over.”
“Affirmative. What are the details? Over.”
“Switch to channel eleven.”
Arnold twisted the dial again, and Elliot filled him in on the rendezvous location and then signed off. Arnold sat back, powered the radio down, and then rose and headed for the door.
“Forty miles a day. That’s aggressive for horses that have been putting in hard time for two weeks,” Lucas said.
“Don’t see much choice, do you?”
“We might not make it in four is all I’m saying.”
“Didn’t sound like that was an option.”
“Won’t do us any good to wind up twenty miles out with a couple of dead animals. That could happen if we’re not careful, and we’d still miss the meet.”
“We’ll figure it out. For now, let’s pay the nice man and ride. We still have some daylight left to burn.”
“Getting across the city will probably eat most of that.”
“Maybe the trader knows the fastest route to the eastern side of town.”
“Not sure I want him to know where we’re headed,” Lucas said.
Arnold gave him a dry grin. “He’s the last honest man, to hear your story.”
&nbs
p; “He might be, but right now I wouldn’t trust my brother.”
“He’s a creep,” Sierra added.
They pushed through the door and found Rob behind his counter, polishing a chrome Smith & Wesson snub-nosed revolver. He set the pistol down and tapped on a stopwatch resting on the glass. “You’re into me four minutes.”
Arnold counted out the rounds and set them in front of him. Rob pocketed the bullets and offered Sierra a smile. “Anything else I can do you for? You might be surprised at what I’ve got upstairs.”
Lucas could see Sierra was going to reply harshly and cut her off. “We need to resupply. How are you on dry goods?”
“Not so great. I specialize in weapons and ammo.”
“Where’s the nearest place we could get some fixings?” Arnold asked.
Rob thought for a moment and gave them directions to another trading post. “But watch them. They’re crooks.”
Lucas tipped his hat and made for the entrance with Sierra, Rob’s eyes burning holes in her jeans the entire way. “We’re used to it.”
“Study on that flyer like I said. It’ll ease your mind,” Rob called out after him, but Lucas was already gone, Arnold behind him.
“You boys are in a hurry, aren’t you?” the trader muttered to himself, and went back to polishing the pistol. “I would be too if I had that little honey waiting on me. She’s a firecracker. I can see that from a mile away.” He inspected his work with a keen eye and then continued wiping at the metal with the rag. “Need to slow down and smell the flowers. Life’s too short, that’s for sure.” He glanced up at the empty doorway and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lip. “More for some than for others.”
Chapter 22
After a tense exchange at the second trading post, their saddlebags were bulging with provisions. Lucas checked the surroundings before swinging onto Tango. He’d convinced Sierra to wait outside with George and John while he, Arnold, and Colt dickered with the trader, which hadn’t been hard after her experience with Rob. All of them were on edge, their sense of unease growing as they rode along the wide boulevard, and Arnold cautioned them to spread out so if anyone started shooting, they’d present more difficult targets.
The Day After Never Bundle (First 4 novels) Page 83