Borders: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Aftershock Series Book 3)
Page 20
There was a pause of a few seconds. “Ryder?” asked Damon.
So much for best laid plans. But he was relatively sure they didn’t know he was alone. He tried a bluff, “Come out or we’ll come in after you!”
“Come out so you can shoot me again? Why don’t you just ride away? We give you our word we won’t go back.”
“Sorry, but past experience tells me you’ll end up killing someone else, whether it’s back there or somewhere else. Come out and we’ll take you back alive.”
“No can do. I don’t trust you any more than you trust me.”
“What choice do you have?” asked Ryder.
Davis ran past the injured Damon into the open, hands up. “Ryder! I surrender!” he shouted. “Don’t shoot!” He turned a complete three-sixty, looking for someone to surrender to.
Ryder waited a moment for Damon to follow. Since he’d be moving a little slower, he gave him extra time. He didn’t show.
Ryder took a chance and stood when Davis faced his direction. As soon as he saw him, he immediately started to walk toward him. Ryder held up his hand for him to stop where he was. Damon could be using Davis as bait to draw him out. The rifle he’d seen Damon holding earlier could be pointing out through the rubble waiting for an opportunity to place him in its sights. He motioned for Davis to sit where he was and then ducked down himself.
Now, Ryder wasn’t sure what to do. Davis was sitting on the ground in the open and Damon was inside what remained of the old farmhouse, armed and refusing to come out.
“Let me take you back. I’ll make sure you receive medical treatment,” offered Ryder. “Otherwise this could end very badly for you.”
“Funny coming from the one who probably shot me,” answered Damon.
Ryder noticed Davis was slowly edging toward the horses. He started to shout for him to stop, but decided against it. Davis was responsible for many deaths, but without Damon to carry out his orders, he wasn’t the primary danger. He’d never be able to kill anyone himself. Ryder’s first intent when he rode after them was to kill them both for what they’d done to the people of Tent City, taking his brother hostage and torturing him, killing Grayson’s men, and Damon alone was responsible for the senseless death of the old man at Paradise.
Damon. If he could only stop one of them, he was the one he wanted the most. He couldn’t be allowed to get away. Death and destruction would follow him wherever he went.
Davis reached his horse. He never took his eyes off the location where Ryder had ducked back into the brush, looking for any indication he should stop. Slowly, he untied his horse from the old corral fence next to the water tank and began to walk toward the dirt road, leading his horse, and keeping it between him and Ryder. At the road, he carefully swung up into the saddle and casually rode away, staring back where he had last seen Ryder.
“Why’d you let Davis get away?” yelled Damon. “He was responsible for all the deaths back there.”
“Not without your help. And now, alone, I don’t think he’s much of a threat. He probably won’t even survive. But you, you’re a murderer and no one is safe with you around. Put an end to this and come on out.”
“I’m the murderer? You just tried to kill me.”
“You deserved it.”
There were a few moments of silence. “I don’t think there’s anyone else out there with you. You’re all alone out there, aren’t you? So, if you want me, come and get me.”
There was no sense in denying he was alone. But he wasn’t a fool. He knew Damon had a rifle and charging in would be suicide. An idea occurred to him. It would keep him safe and at the same time flush Damon out.
With each exchange, he was fairly sure Damon had begun to zero in on his location. He fell silent and moved to a new location on the west side of the house. He gathered dry, dead twigs and grass, forming a small pile. He pulled out the flint he always carried and flicked his knife along its magnesium edge. Sparks flew into the small pile and it began to smolder. He knelt down and softly blew on it until a flame sprang to life. Gently, he added on slightly larger twigs until he had a nice fire.
Even though it didn’t take long to start the fire, it must have been long enough to make Damon nervous. “Are you coming in or not?”
Ryder remained silent, placing the end of a large dry branch into the fire. When it began to burn, he pulled it out and slowly approached the house.
He’d kept quiet since moving to the new location. Unless Damon had visibility around the house’s entire perimeter from the inside, which he doubted, he’d never see Ryder coming. The inside of the nearest exterior wall had old wooden lathe showing. They were perfect kindling and would light and burn quickly. He laid the burning branch under the lathe. As expected, they ignited almost immediately.
Ryder ran back to the small fire, kicked dirt on it, and stomped it out. He quickly returned to his previous position where he had a good view of the side door frame. He sat still and waited, calmer now, rifle ready. Damon wouldn’t have a choice now, he’d have to come out. If he had to kill Damon in self-defense, he wouldn’t hesitate. The flames were now visible at the other side of the house as dark smoke bellowed into the clear blue sky.
He heard coughing, “Is this how you intend to kill me?” shouted Damon with a frantic voice.
“That’s up to you. Throw your rifle out and come out with your hands up and you’ll be fine.” He raised his rifle, aiming at the door. Damon was still a threat as long as he had the rifle. The fire continued to grow. Soon the entire house would be engulfed. The heat and smoke must have been unbearable inside. Where was he? Could he have found another way out?
Ryder began to slowly move toward the doorway, rifle up with his finger on the trigger. The smoke was so thick, he could barely see inside. “Damon?” he called out. There was no answer. Even now he couldn’t trust Damon. He could feel the heat coming off the fire. There was a shape that caught his eyes. Near the doorway Damon was lying face down. One arm appeared to have been reaching for the outside, the other grasping the rifle. He was motionless, evidently too stubborn to come out, overcome by the smoke.
Ryder, against his better judgment, set his rifle down, held his breath, and reached in with both hands to drag Damon’s body out. As soon as Damon was safely outside, he miraculously rose to his knees and jerked the rifle up. Ryder, caught off guard, stumbled backward at the assault. Damon fired, missing. Ryder fell next to where he had set down his rifle. He grabbed it and raised it, firing a single shot, striking Damon in the chest, driving him backwards over the threshold back into the house. Ryder began to rush forward, but the heat was too intense and the smoke too thick. He couldn’t breathe. He lost sight of Damon. If the shot hadn’t killed him the fire would.
Ryder stepped back a safe distance from the heat and watched as the fire consumed what was left of the old farmhouse. As the structure weakened, all standing walls collapsed in on themselves. He had no doubt that Damon was dead. He couldn’t help thinking how fitting fire was as an end for Damon. There was no remorse or sadness and surprisingly no satisfaction. He felt nothing other than relief that it was over.
There wasn’t any reason to stick around. As the fire continued to consume the remains of the old farm house, Ryder gathered Damon’s horse and led it back to his own. Mounting up, he rode out to the road.
“Ready to head back to New Eden, Darby?” asked Ryder.
“New Eden?”
“Yeah, that’s what they’re calling it now. Kind of catchy isn’t it? Fresh start for a new community.”
Ryder was ready for a change. But first, he had a commitment to fulfill. He’d told Roy and the Council he’d stick around long enough to train and prepare them for a future attack. He’d given his word. After that, he would search for others in the wasteland that needed help.
He felt numb and tired. “Mind if we don’t talk for a while?” asked Ryder.
“No problem.”
“Thanks.”
***
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nbsp; Thank you for reading BORDERS,
third book in the Aftershock Series.
Please check out my website at adventurewithmike.com