by Lane, Summer
“Hey,” she said, suddenly halting.
She sensed a presence. She turned around, slowly facing Nathan’s dog, Bravo. He paused, tilting his head, gauging her reaction.
“Um.” She relaxed a little. “What do you want?”
His dark eyes sparkled.
I want to come with you.
Elle raised an eyebrow. She took one step backward, then two. He walked forward and stopped when she did. Elle’s lips curved into a soft smile.
“Okay, come on,” she said.
She turned and began walking. In a few seconds, she felt the steady, easy trot of Bravo beside her. He was very quiet, but there was something about the dog that smelled like danger.
“So,” Elle continued. “This is what we’re going to do. I’m going to sweep through the houses and look for anything we might be able to use, and then we’ll circle back and sit with Nathan until he…” She trailed off, rubbing her temples. “Well. I’m talking to a dog. I’ve finally cracked.”
Bravo chuffed under his breath, throwing his head back.
“Geez, don’t act so offended,” Elle muttered.
Then don’t offend me, kid.
Elle stared at Bravo. She blinked a few times. It was almost like she could hear him talking to her, slinging back sarcasm in the silence of the desert night. She shook her head and headed for the first shack in sight. It looked as beaten down as the rest – nothing special. Elle entered through an open window, picking her way through the wreckage within. There were broken floorboards, rusty nails. It smelled of wet earth and rotting wood. Bravo entered the building with Elle, sniffing carefully, silent as the night.
They searched the entire house. There was nothing but broken glass. They moved on to the next house, searching through the emptiness for something they might be able to use – scraps of food, maybe weapons. They came up short every time.
“Well, I’m not surprised,” Elle stated.
Sunlight was quickly waning, casting black and gray shadows through the town. It seemed ghostly at night to Elle, and lonelier, in some ways, than the streets of Los Angeles.
They began walking back. Bravo stopped, a low growl in the back of his throat. Elle tensed, drawing away. She held her arm up defensively, half expecting the dog to lunge and take out a chunk of her skin.
“What’s with you?” Elle asked.
Bravo stalked forward, deliberate steps in the direction of the shadows between the buildings, the dirt road that curved through the small town. Elle followed his line of sight, but saw nothing. She lifted her hand above her head and closed her fingers around the katana, pulling it out of its scabbard.
The blade was light and balanced in her hands.
Bravo’s growl became louder, more urgent. He barked low. Elle’s heart began to race. What did the dog sense that she didn’t? A wild animal? Something worse?
“Who’s there?” Elle asked. “Show yourself.”
Her words came out shaky and uncertain. She sounded scared, and she hated herself for it. There was slight movement under the eaves of one of the buildings, and then there was something moving toward them. In the late hours of the evening, it was difficult to discern what it was, exactly. It was hunched over, close to the ground. It looked like a dog, larger and fiercer than Bravo.
And then Elle saw that it wasn’t a dog. It was a man.
She had never seen anyone in Los Angeles in this condition. He was stooped low, his hair was frayed and mottled with dried blood. His eyes held a feverish glaze as he stared at Elle and Bravo. She stood there, unmoving, looking at the misshapen man. He was terrifying. His face had been burned, one eye looked like it had been slashed out.
“What do you want?” Elle asked.
She felt a bolt of regret. She knew in that instant that no matter what she said or what she did, she would not be able to leave this place without dealing with the man. She couldn’t run, she couldn’t pretend he wasn’t there. He was now a threat, and Elle knew of only one way to deal with threats.
The man said nothing. He just stopped, slowing and watching the girl and the dog. And then, quicker than Elle could blink, he was running toward them. He sprinted with a manic energy, bolting across the open space that separated them. Elle was horrified. Her instincts held true, though, and she braced herself for his approach.
She drew the katana backward, prepared to swipe it through the air and kill the man if needed. Bravo barked louder, this time with menace. He ran forward and met the man halfway, striking like a bullet. His jaws sank into the man’s arm and he slammed him against the ground.
The man screamed. It was a raspy, desperate voice – it hardly sounded human. He grappled with the dog but Bravo was too strong. He tore into the man until he lie on the ground in a trembling, bloody heap.
“Bravo, stop!” Elle yelled. “Leave him!”
The dog paused, looked at Elle through eyes veiled with carnal instinct and military training. He pulled away from the man. Elle walked closer, studying him. Bravo hadn’t done more than tear his arm up – the rest of his body had been damaged by something else.
“What do you want?” Elle asked again.
The man looked up, shaking. Tears streamed down his wrinkled face.
“To die,” he whispered. “I want to die.”
Elle swallowed a lump in her throat.
“Who did this to you?” she asked.
He gazed straight through her, glassy-eyed. He went still.
Elle exhaled, looking at Bravo.
“You don’t mess around, dog,” she remarked. “You don’t trust anyone.” She cocked her head. “You and I might get along.”
Bravo stepped farther away from the now-dead man.
I get things done, he seemed to say. It’s my job.
Elle looked back at the man. She wondered what had happened to him. Why had he been wandering alone in the desert, burned and mutilated, left to die like a wounded animal? Had it been Omega? Had it been the Slavers?
She sighed. She would never know.
“Let’s go back,” Elle muttered.
She turned, and when she looked at Bravo, he followed her as if he understood every word she said.
The soldier named Nathan died that night.
Bravo let out a mournful howl. His master was dead. Elle buried Nathan. She found a rusty shovel in a pile of old mining equipment and dug a hole. She dug until her hands were covered in blisters and sweat stuck her clothes to her skin. She dragged his body into the hole and covered him with dirt. Bravo watched the entire thing with a baleful expression, whimpering and whining.
Elle used her katana to scrape letters into the side of the little cabin.
RIP NATHAN
HE DIED WITH HIS FRIEND BY HIS SIDE
She didn’t know what else to say. Somehow, she thought that he’d appreciate the fact that his dog had stayed by his side until the end.
“Come on,” Elle said, sheathing the sword. “You’re with me now, Bravo.”
The desert was unforgiving. Elle was determined to beat it. Bravo trotted slowly beside her. Elle wrapped a thick scarf around her face. She had taken it from the dead man’s pack. It helped protect her skin from the gritty dust and sand.
“We’ve got a long walk, dog,” Elle said.
Bravo looked at her. Nothing new to me, he seemed to say.
“You up for it?” she asked.
Well, what else am I going to do, human?
She nodded.
“Okay, then,” she said. “Let’s do this.”
Part Two: The Slavers
Chapter Seven
San Jacinto National Park – Slaver Territory
Elle ran quickly and quietly, dodging boulders and making her way through the pine trees. The smell of sugar pine and cedar was strong. The morning was crisp and silent. Elle was little more than a shadow, sprinting through the forest. And beside her, Bravo ran, too. He was quieter than Elle, his hunter’s instincts making him fast and alert.
Elle’s hear
t raced.
There was no stopping now.
There were no more options. This was the last resort.
48 Hours Earlier
Mount San Jacinto State Park. The sign was in good condition, standing amidst a backdrop of blue skies and mountain ridges. Elle touched the sign with the tip of her finger, just to make sure it was real. She was exhausted. Her feet hurt, her body ached. She was hungry. Days of rationing protein bars and water bottles had taken its toll. Her head throbbed and her lips were cracked.
She looked at Bravo.
Let’s get this over with, he said. You and me. This is our thing now.
“At least we know we’re in the right place,” Elle replied.
There was a gold star painted on the sign, but this time, the star was different. It was inside a circle. Elle figured it meant that they had arrived.
Hello, Slaver Territory.
This place has too many smells. Bravo shook his head, focusing his dark eyes on the horizon. Hang on. I’ve got something different.
Elle watched him. She knew what he was thinking just by looking at him. She’d learned to read his thoughts over the last few days, during the long, thankless trek across the open desert and the exhausting climb up the mountains. There were still many mysteries about this dog, but she liked to think she was slowly forming a bond with him.
Slowly, but surely.
“We should rest,” Elle said aloud. It was early morning and the temperature was frigid. The sunlight was unfiltered and bright. She squinted her eyes and returned her gaze to Bravo.
“You’re right,” she sighed. “We can’t rest. We’ve got to keep going.”
Well, I didn’t come all this way for nothing, girl, Bravo snorted.
“Don’t give me that look,” Elle complained. “I’m tired enough.”
Then let’s go!
“Fine.”
Good girl.
So that’s what they did. They kept moving, weaving through the mountain trails. It was an interesting kind of mountain range, a mix of desert and lush forest. There were pine trees and cedars, but there was also dry brush and open patches of dirt. From their vantage point on the side of the mountain, Elle and Bravo could see the desert floor far below.
“I can’t believe we walked that far,” Elle muttered.
Bravo tucked his head and trotted faster, pulling ahead of Elle.
“You’re a show-off, dog,” Elle said.
Bravo tilted his head, suddenly tensing.
I smell people.
Elle stared at him. He turned on his heel and began moving forward, silently creeping through the underbrush, threading his way through the maze of trees. The shade in the forest was chilly. Elle struggled to keep pace with Bravo. Her feet felt like blocks of cement.
She needed to rest…
And then she stopped, dropping to her hands and knees in the bushes. There was movement up ahead, voices. Bravo paused near the edge of a Manzanita bush, his ears flat against his head.
“Bravo,” Elle whispered. “Come on. Back here, boy.”
He hesitated.
Okay…
Then he turned and joined Elle.
“Good boy,” she said. “Okay, what have we found here?”
She crawled forward on her stomach, straining to see through the branches and bushes. She heard the rumbling of trucks and the clear, rough laughter of men. She stopped moving, nearly placing her hand on top of a strip of rusty barbed wire. A dozen strips of the wire had been threaded through the trees, creating a fence.
“I think we found it, Bravo,” Elle said, her voice low.
She peered through the makeshift wire fencing. There was a clearing in the midst of the forest. She saw pickup trucks and old jeeps. She caught glimpses of unshaven men in tattered clothing. Elle’s heartbeat quickened. There were a few old buildings and what looked like corrals between the trees. There were several horses and, on each tree, there was a gold star.
Slaver Territory. Bravo crouched on his haunches, seemingly giving Elle a nudge. Told you we’d find it.
“You did good, Bravo,” Elle whispered.
Of course I did. I’m a dog.
“Don’t get cocky.” Elle moved her gaze from the corrals and the trucks to the side of the mountain. There was an impressive rock face behind the encampment. It jutted into the sky, fierce and dominating.
A dirt road had been carved into the side of the mountain, winding up toward the rock. It was a new road, probably made by the Slavers.
Several trucks rumbled up the road, and in the
back of the trucks, there were people. They were
too far away to see their faces, but from here,
Elle could tell that they were packed together
like sardines in a tin can.
Prisoners? Had to be.
“What are they taking them up there for?” she whispered.
You tell me. Humans don’t make any sense half the time.
Elle offered a half-hearted grin.
“I guess we’ll have to find out,” she said.
Good plan, girl. Bravo’s eyes glimmered. Let’s do that.
“If we make it out of this alive,” Georgia said, taking a drag on a cigarette, “I’m going back to college and making something of myself.”
“I doubt colleges are going to be the first thing that’s rebuilt in society,” Jay replied, cracking a wry smile. “We’ll probably have to focus on the more basic elements of survival first.”
“I’m not an idiot.” Georgia rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying. I’d like to teach.”
“You? A teacher?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I just…That’s a picture, I’ll give you that.”
They were sitting on the ground, taking a brief break from the long walk out of Los Angeles. Flash and Pix sat together, silent. Elle stood apart from the group, watching and listening.
Georgia made a face.
“Hey, at least I have ambitions,” she snapped. “What would you do if you had another chance to climb the social ladder, Dr. Phil?”
Jay shrugged.
“Oh, come on,” Georgia prodded. “Enlighten us.”
Elle watched Jay’s face. It was veiled in shadow, difficult to read.
“I don’t know,” he said.
Lie. Elle knew he was avoiding the truth.
“You’re a total bore, Jay,” Georgia commented, blowing smoke into the air. “Remind me not to get stuck with you again when the apocalypse hits next time.”
Jay shrugged again.
Georgia was smiling.
Elle said nothing.
“What about you, shortstack?” Georgia asked, turning to Elle. “What would you do in an ideal world?”
“There is no ideal world,” Elle deadpanned.
“Come on, use your imagination for once in your life.”
Elle stared at her feet.
“I would have stayed in Los Angeles after the EMP,” she said. “I would have saved my family.” Georgia balanced her cigarette between her fingers.
“You’re morbid, kid,” she said, but there was sadness in her words.
Then, in a soft voice, Jay replied.
“I would have done the same thing.”
Elle slipped through the trees. She was a dark flash, and Bravo was her shadow. She had pulled far enough away from the Slaver encampment to avoid being seen, but remained close enough so that she could hear the rumble of their trucks and the garble of their voices echoing off the mountains.
“We’ve got to get to the top of that rock cliff,” Elle breathed, stopping behind a tree. Bravo panted next to her, following her line of sight. “I think they’re keeping prisoners up there. If Jay and the others are here, that’s where they’ll be.”
At least, that’s what Elle was hoping.
She could be wrong. Jay, Georgia and Flash could be dead.
Hey. Bravo nudged her with the tip of his nose. Focus, lady. We’re on a mission, remem
ber?
Elle nodded.
The road that led up the cliff embankment was too exposed for Elle and Bravo to use. They would have to come up behind the road, sifting through the thick brush and the cover of the trees. If they were careful, they could at least take a peek at what was up there…
“Okay, let’s go,” Elle whispered.
She crept forward, keeping a close watch on everything around her. They got close to the dirt road. Elle paused. There were no trucks coming, no men. She tensed and darted across the road, vanishing into the other side of the pathway. Bravo followed her, staying close. She grinned and rubbed his head.
“We make a good team,” she said.
The growl of an engine echoed through the forest. Elle dropped to her hands and knees and pulled on Bravo’s collar. “Down,” she commanded. “Stay down!”
A diesel pickup truck blundered by on the road. It was going slow. The pickup bed was packed with a dozen or so prisoners. There were men and women – even a couple of children. Elle swallowed her disgust, peering at the men inside the cab. The windows were rolled down. A Slaver with long dreadlocks was driving, hanging one arm out the window. Two armed men sat beside him, and four or five guards trailed behind the pickup on foot, toting rifles and what looked like AK-47s.
Elle frowned.
This was not an encouraging sight.
She waited until the truck and the guards had passed them to get up and walk. The thought occurred to Elle that the Slavers were going to monumental pains to set up their encampment in the heart of the mountains, and they were bringing in dozens upon dozens of new prisoners every day.
What were they using them for? What purpose could the Slavers possibly have for prisoners? Why did they need so many of them?
There’s a rumor going around, Sienna had said. There’s something big in the desert. Something the militias can’t stop.
Elle pushed back the cloud of worry gathering at the edges of her mind and focused on the task at hand. She knew from personal experience that staying alive in hostile territory required concentration.
One wrong move and you could be dead.
Elle and Bravo followed the basic direction of the dirt road, staying hidden in the cover of the underbrush and darting from tree to tree. The hill became steeper, and Elle had to use rocks and bushes to pull herself up. Bravo’s progress was slow but sure. They both fought gravity and exhaustion as they struggled up the hill, pausing only to catch their breaths.