Rifle in hand, he took another long look at his new family and tipped his head to Sierra, whose lower lip was quivering slightly, and then turned and opened the door. They followed him outside as he strode to where Tango was waiting, tied to a tree in front of the house. Lucas checked the saddlebags and harness, untethered the horse as he slipped the M4 sling over his shoulder, and climbed into the saddle. The big stallion stood motionless until the familiar ritual was complete and gave a snort, as though bidding his own farewell to the others. Lucas offered a wave with a gloved hand and then urged Tango down the street, his freshly shod hooves clomping against the crumbling asphalt.
Elliot was waiting at his offices with the three men Lucas would be riding with, who eyed him as he approached. Two of the security men were familiar to Lucas, the third only in passing. Lucas dismounted, tied Tango to a hitching post, and called out a greeting.
“Gentlemen.”
Elliot beamed at him with typically good humor, his cheeks ruddy from the snap in the air. “Ah, Lucas, good morning to you. I trust you’re ready for the trail?”
Lucas shrugged. “Ride’s a ride.”
“Lucas, you already know Red and Axel, and this young man is Joel. He’ll be handling the vaccine and showing his counterpart how to produce it from the cultures. I’ve already told him all about you. You’re somewhat of a legend here, so he’d already heard most of it.”
Lucas inclined his head at Joel by way of greeting. Joel returned the gesture, aware that Lucas was taking his measure with his steel gray eyes. Lucas saw an unremarkable man in his late twenties, taller than most, his gaze quick and obviously intelligent. Lucas looked at his sidearm, an H&K 9mm, without expression, although he preferred his bigger-caliber .45 in a firefight.
Elliot cleared his throat. “I’ve prepared maps with the recommended route. Red here has ridden several days along the pass to confirm it’s negotiable, and it looks good.” He paused. “I appreciate everyone’s help on this. The reports of the new virus spreading into the northwest are most alarming, and it’s one of the areas we’ve neglected until now.”
Lucas had been conscripted into riding to Oregon with the small party by Ruby, who’d agreed to help with the vaccine distribution as part of her contribution to the enclave’s efforts – with their numbers at alarming lows, they needed as many of the able-bodied to remain and rebuild their defenses, and Ruby was game for adventure in spite of her advanced years. He’d refused at first, pointing out that he’d done more than enough, but after numerous contentious discussions with Sierra, he had reluctantly agreed to go with her on the trip. Sierra’s trump card had been that Ruby had saved their lives, so he couldn’t let her ride a thousand miles by herself.
“Wouldn’t be by herself,” Lucas had said.
Sierra had graced him with a withering look. “Anyone else here who’s as good with a gun, much less on the trail?”
“She volunteered. I didn’t.”
“I know. And I don’t like the thought of you putting yourself in harm’s way again. But, Lucas…it’s Ruby. She’s not a teenager anymore.”
“She’ll have security.”
Sierra had sighed. “If you don’t want to go, that’s fine. I don’t want you to, either. But you’ll never forgive yourself if she doesn’t make it. I know you well enough by now, Lucas. Let’s not kid each other – you wouldn’t have brought it up if you weren’t thinking about it.”
Sierra had been right, of course, but a part of Lucas had been hoping she’d talk him out of it. The thought of three to four weeks in the saddle in each direction was as unappealing as anything he could imagine now that he’d spent months in their comfortable home, even through a snowy Colorado winter. He’d fixed the roof so it didn’t leak, and they’d created a cocoon where they’d weathered the worst the Rockies could throw at them without issue. Leaving to ride into the unknown hadn’t ranked high on his bucket list – but as Sierra had underscored, without Ruby they wouldn’t have been there in the first place.
Lucas twisted to see her familiar figure atop Sidney approaching down the main street with Jax, her mule, in tow, the hapless beast loaded down with provisions and boasting its usual long-suffering expression. The corners of Lucas’s eyes crinkled at the sight, and then he returned his attention to Elliot, who was offering parting instructions to Joel.
“Astoria has a radio, and they’ve reported that the route there is largely safe until you enter Oregon – with the proviso that you’re best to avoid Boise,” Elliot said. “If you follow the road north, you’ll avoid the Utah desert, and it should be relatively clear sailing, I’d think.”
“Relatively,” Lucas muttered, and waited as Ruby rode up and swung down from the saddle.
“Morning, handsome,” she said with a smile for him, and then greeted each of the men in turn.
Elliot finished his monologue with a few more words of caution and handed them the maps filched from one of the town filling stations.
“Problem with this plan is it has us following the road. Anyone looking to ambush travelers would be watching it,” complained Axel, a rangy fighter with yellowing teeth and a permanent squint.
“True,” Elliot conceded. “But there’s little chance of that in the more rural areas, after the winter we just had. I agree it’s a concern, and you should use the road only as a guideline to get you over the mountains. Beyond that, use your best judgment, as always. Better to take longer and make it than to cut a corner and not.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Lucas said, staring up at the sky. “We need to get moving so we can make it to Bayfield by dark.” Bayfield was a deserted town by a river where Lucas had foraged after the first melt. He knew a spot where the horses could graze and drink, and they’d be safe for the night.
“What are you thinking? Thirty miles a day?” Joel asked.
“Shoot for forty, see what happens. Depends on how the animals hold up,” Lucas said. “You boys got plenty of ammo?”
Red and Axel nodded. “All chambered, same as that M4. This ain’t our first rodeo, Lucas.”
“I know. How about you?” Lucas asked Joel.
He approached his horse and removed an AR-15. “We’re ready to rock.”
Lucas straightened and, after a nod to Ruby, whose AR-15 was always by her side, walked back to where Tango waited patiently. “All right. Mount, and let’s hit the trail.” He paused and gave Elliot a hard stare. “I hope this is worth it, Elliot.”
“With the virus spreading, we have no choice. Astoria’s got a competent physician who can create all the vaccine necessary to inoculate everyone in the northwest. I wish we knew someone closer, but as you’re aware, much of the area’s under hostile control.”
Elliot was active with his beloved radio, from which he knew most metropolitan areas in the West were under the sway of criminal elements, much as Houston and its surroundings were run by the Crew. It was natural that the most dangerous predators would do best in a world suddenly rendered a jungle, and it had been the strong and the brutal who had seized control while the more benign had focused on saving their families and avoiding conflict. Astoria had been an exception, due to the rural location and the presence of a tightly knit prepper community that had been better prepared than most for the ugly post-collapse reality.
Lucas hoisted himself onto Tango and waited for the rest to saddle up. When they were all mounted, he offered Elliot a small tip of his hat and gave Tango a flick of the reins. The stallion shook his head and took off at a brisk walk, which would be the pace for the next thousand miles. Ruby pulled into line behind him, Jax plodding along by her side, and Axel and Red brought up the rear, weapons in hand.
Elliot watched the column make its way down the main street and across the bridge that spanned the San Juan River, a grim expression of determination on his face. He hated to send anyone on such an arduous journey, but there was no other way – for months the northwest had been ignored in favor of easier distribution points, but the spreading virus
had become alarming enough to require action. Riding as hard as they dared, it would take every bit of three weeks to make it to Astoria, at the very least, and even with the most aggressive vaccine development effort once there, another several weeks to manufacture enough vaccine over and above the five hundred doses Joel was carrying to enable them to put a dent in the larger population centers. There were tens of thousands of survivors in Portland and Seattle, each of them a potential victim without the vaccine, and all of their lives might depend on the four arriving as speedily as possible.
Like it or not, the trip had to be made. If Elliot had been capable, he would have done it himself, but with his back and other infirmities, a cross-country ride wasn’t an option.
Once the column had disappeared on the far end of the bridge, Elliot turned to the community center that served as his office and home. “God speed you,” he whispered under his breath, and pushed through the heavy double doors, resigned to another long day of generating more vaccine to send with a group scheduled to leave the following week, this time bound for Billings, Montana, where another associate of his was waiting anxiously, aware that the creep of the virus west was a death sentence they were racing the clock to beat.
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