The young horse had performed admirably, but he was losing steam, and Lucas felt sorry for him having to haul two riders, even at a slow walk. Still, Lucas was keenly aware of the search party on his tail, and so drove the beast to a trot, hating that he had to do so.
Twenty minutes later the texture underfoot transitioned from the alluvial soil created by runoff from the foothills to hard-packed dirt. Another quarter mile and it changed again, from dirt to gravel and then to rock. He craned around to study his tracks and saw that they ended ten yards behind him, and he nodded to himself as he continued due west for another five minutes before slowing Gunner and whispering to him.
“Good boy, partner. Now I just need you to turn in one more burst, and we’re home free.”
The horse plodded south with the monotonous resignation of a prisoner to the gallows, and when Lucas judged that they’d traveled far enough that the tracking party wouldn’t be able to easily pick up the trail, he circled back toward the east and coaxed the horse to greater speed. By his reckoning he was on a bearing that would take him across the path of his pursuers a good mile behind them, assuming they were moving at a fair clip.
He stopped to listen every few minutes, but heard nothing. Eventually, he crossed his own tracks headed north, and noted with satisfaction that they were obscured by multiple hoofprints.
When he arrived at the ruins, Sierra gimped from the interior of the building, gun in hand, and gazed up at him. “It worked,” she said simply.
“So far. Come on. Let’s walk Gunner some, and I’ll use a branch to erase his hoofprints. We only have to do it for a few hundred yards.”
“I didn’t shoot them,” she said with a small smile.
“Good work.”
~ ~ ~
Garret’s hopes evaporated as the hunt for the rider’s tracks entered its third hour. They’d lost sight of the trail earlier, and Garret had directed the men to scour the northern edge of the rocky area. After two sweeps, Luis had complained that there was nothing to find, and warned that they needed to wait until daylight to have a better chance – the night vision goggles were only so good, and they couldn’t display the sort of nuance that a trained eye in sunlight would detect.
Garret had refused, and the search had shifted to the west. He had no idea why the rider had tacked in that direction, but he suspected a rendezvous of some sort – perhaps to pick up a security detail or meet with the other members of the party that had attacked the courthouse and the hospital? Whatever it was, he couldn’t give up until he’d exhausted all other options.
Another hour passed, and when they hadn’t met with any success to the west, where the soil transitioned to hard rock as the hills rose from the plain, he’d ordered the men to stand down. They would wait until morning, which would be there soon enough.
Luis busied himself with the two-way radio as casualty reports continued to come in from Pecos, and by the time the first faint tendrils of dawn were glowing in the east, it had become obvious that the Locos’ strength had been reduced by three quarters, if not more. When an anxious broadcast informed Luis that Paco had been found murdered, Luis looked like he’d been gut shot. He seemed numb from shock and sleep deprivation when he broke the news to Garret, who pretended surprise.
“Beaten to death? Then the attack must have been a rival gang, don’t you think?” Garret asked.
“We don’t have any enemies. We cooperate with El Paso, and we do deals with everyone else.”
Garret resisted the urge to smile. “Well, you apparently have some now. Good thing we did a deal before this happened, or Magnus might not have been interested. He only approached you because of the size of your force.” He paused. “Guess that makes you the new head honcho, right?”
Luis grunted. “Yeah. I expect it does.”
“Well, don’t worry. A deal’s a deal. We’ll honor it. You just need to do whatever it takes to get the woman back – and find the girl.”
Luis nodded mutely, digesting the news that he’d just been catapulted to the head of the cartel – and that he was fronting a group that might not be able to defend itself any longer, whose ranks were in disarray and its power center eroded to a sliver of what it had been just yesterday.
Garret watched him walk away and then leaned back against his saddlebags and closed his eyes. It would be daybreak soon, and he’d need his energy.
The woman was out there somewhere. He could feel it.
And she wouldn’t escape him again.
Chapter 36
Gunner was on his last legs as the trading post came into view, the afternoon sun baking the fields of tall grass surrounding it. Lucas had chosen a trail well to the east of the ones he would normally have used, figuring that on the offhand chance the cartel got lucky, they’d never be able to track him through scrub and grass – or if they did, it would take days to ferret out the evidence of his passing. It wasn’t like he was leaking yellow paint for them to follow, and he doubted that anyone in the criminal gang possessed the outdoor skills necessary to run them to ground.
Earlier, he’d probed Sierra for more detail on her story, but sensed that she was holding out on him by the time she was through.
“Tell me again how you wound up in the gulch, and who the men were, Sierra,” he’d asked.
“I told you. We were headed away from Dallas. They helped me escape.”
“Right, I remember. But why? Out of the goodness of their hearts?”
“Of course not. They were friends with one of the guys who took pity on me. On us.”
Lucas had shaken his head. “What’s the story on Eve, Sierra? Seems like some pretty dangerous people are pulling out all the stops to find you two.”
“They can’t allow anyone to rebel or escape. It’s a challenge to their dominance. They have a zero tolerance policy. You try to break away, you’re dead. Simple.”
“I hear you, but the lengths they’re going to don’t make sense.”
“None of this does. Look around you. We’re living in a waking nightmare.”
“Back to your escorts. They looked like they were paramilitary. Militia.”
“They sort of were.”
“Sort of?”
“Look, Lucas, I don’t know everything about them. An opportunity to get away from miserable conditions presented itself. We had almost no notice, and on the spur of the moment, we took it. We almost got away with it, and then we got blindsided by – what was it you called them? Raiders? We got hit by killers out in the middle of nowhere, after surviving all the way across the state. What makes sense about that? That we would get taken down by pure chance, with the Crew on our tail?” She’d laughed bitterly. “Don’t tell me about things not making sense. Nothing has for five years.”
Lucas had shifted gears. “How old are you, Sierra?”
“Twenty-two. Almost twenty-three.”
“It can’t have been easy. I can understand why you’d risk everything to get away.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“So what’s your theory as to why the Locos are after you?”
“Houston probably put them up to it. That’s my guess. Birds of a feather, isn’t that right?”
“Maybe. I’m just surprised they didn’t kill you.” He’d told her about the town and his grandfather, and she’d gone quiet. The miles had dragged by, but she hadn’t volunteered anything more, and as they neared Duke’s, Lucas knew about as much as he had when he’d started the discussion.
Sierra’s long sigh of relief at the sight of the outpost pulled him back to the present. “Is that it?”
“It is. But don’t get too comfortable. We’re just going to switch horses. I want to get back to Ruby’s by tonight.”
She groaned. “The idea of rest sounded too good to be true.”
“At least you’ll have your own horse. You can sleep in the saddle.”
“My luck, I’ll fall off and break my neck.”
Lucas smiled at that. “Tell me more
about this Magnus who runs the operation in Houston.”
Her face clouded. “He’s the devil.”
“Pretty crowded field these days.”
“No, I mean it. He’s a monster. You name a depravity, he’s behind it. Bestiality, pedophilia, gang rape, torture, slavery, satanic rituals. And he delights in killing. He’s probably responsible for at least half the surviving populations of Dallas, Houston, San Antonio, and Lubbock dying. Makes Hitler seem like Mother Teresa.”
“Where did he come from?”
“Out of nowhere. He just…appeared, and suddenly his men were everywhere. The guy who helped us escape said Magnus had been on death row. I don’t know if that’s true, but he should have been. The world would be a better place with him six feet under.”
“This place you broke out of in Dallas. What was it?”
“One of their facilities. They have a bunch.”
“What do they do there?”
“You don’t want to know.”
He bit back his impatience at her deflections. “Try me.”
“Use your imagination.”
Lucas twisted to look at her. “You’re not telling me anything, Sierra. You’re saying words, but there’s no information.”
“Maybe that’s because I don’t know much. Or I’m just stupid. Or I’m injured, I’ve been up for days, and I’m barely breathing. You think that could have something to do with me not being chatty?”
He resisted the urge to apologize. He knew BS when he heard it, and for whatever reason, she was playing him for a fool.
But he’d get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, he needed to do a trade with Duke for a fresh horse for her, a shower, and a couple of meals. The white lightning would cover that tab, along with some of the ammo he’d conserved. Not that he could ever adequately repay Duke for his generosity – the night vision monocle and Gunner had saved their bacon.
Fatigued as Lucas was, the feel of Sierra’s arms around his waist was distracting him in a pleasant way. He had mixed emotions about their ride together as the trading post swam into view. He knew nothing about this woman; he simultaneously distrusted her and was drawn to her, and wondered that two conflicting emotions could occupy so much of his rusty emotional bandwidth, especially with so much else going on.
Aaron was on guard duty again and waved as they drew near. Lucas tipped his hat in return, and the gate opened.
“Any more trouble?” Lucas asked as he rode through.
“Nope. Quiet as a cemetery.”
“No traders?”
“Not today.”
Had it really only been twenty-four hours since he’d ridden south in search of vengeance? It seemed like a week. Lucas shook his head to clear the cobwebs.
At the sound of their arrival, Duke stepped out onto the porch, followed by Doug and Slim.
“How’d it go?” Duke asked.
“Eventful,” Lucas said.
“I picked up some reports. Doesn’t sound like you left many of ’em.”
“I was pressed for time, or they’d all have bitten it.”
Duke studied his face. “I reckon they would.”
“Probably cut down your trading some.”
Duke shrugged. “I can use the rest.”
Lucas dismounted and helped Sierra down. Duke eyed his bandaged arm. “How bad?”
“Graze.”
“You bring my monocle back?”
“Of course.” Lucas removed the scope from his pouch and handed it to Duke. “Need to do some trading with you.”
“Gunner behave himself?”
“Horse has the heart of a superhero.”
“Yeah, he’s a good one. Lot of stamina,” Duke agreed. “Whaddaya need?”
“Shower, food, and a horse and saddle for the lady. And some clothes, if you’ve got any that’ll fit her.”
Duke nodded slowly. “I can probably find something. We can dicker after you get cleaned up. Looks like you could use a clean bandage.”
“Add it to the bill.”
“Oh, I will.”
Lucas gave him a tired grin. “I know.”
Sierra bathed first, and Duke returned from his stores with a smaller pair of shorts and three T-shirts, all faded, one with several small holes. “These work?” he asked, handing them to Lucas.
Lucas inspected them and nodded. “Assuming they fit.”
“You fixin’ to spend the night?”
“No. Got to keep riding.” Lucas glanced over his shoulder at Doug and Slim. “You may get some company. They sent a war party after us.”
Duke’s face was a blank. “I know nothing.”
“It’s your new boys I’m worried about.”
Duke chewed on his lower lip. “I’ll keep ’em on guard duty. Aaron’s about ready to rest anyway.”
“These are some bad dudes, Duke. If they show up, just tell them the truth – I rode off with Sierra and didn’t say where we were going.”
“Can I at least tell ’em you went west?”
“Long as your boys don’t contradict you.”
Duke grinned. “They may not even show up. Or we may be closed for repairs. Been thinking about a little fishing trip. All work and no play…”
“Don’t underestimate these scum, Duke.”
“Yes, Mom.” Duke cleared his throat. “Didn’t you say you wanted to trade something?”
“Got the six bottles of white lightning. I can let eighty rounds of .32 go. And I only used up a few mags of the 5.56mm, so I can part with, say, three of those, too. The civilian ball, if that’s okay.”
Duke sighed. “That’s mighty light for a horse and saddle.” He sat back and regarded the ceiling. “Look, we can go round and round on this all day, but you’re in a hurry and I’m a busy man, so let’s just cut to the chase.” Duke named a price.
Lucas closed his eyes and took a calming breath. “I want a crossbow, too.”
“I expect I can find one of those.”
“And lunch.”
“I’ll let you keep two bottles of your grandpa’s poison, for old times. I’m a fair man. Hang on to the 5.56mm ball as well. You might wind up needing it.”
Lucas shook the trader’s hand and stood. “Highway robbery, you know.”
Duke nodded. “Have to support my lavish lifestyle somehow, partner. You want a drink?”
“Nah. I’d collapse. I’m going to wash up, clean my guns, and then we’ll hit it. Got anything cooked up?”
“Leftover stew from yesterday. Dove. Over white rice. The rice’ll keep for thirty years.”
“I know.”
“I’ll warm some up.”
Lucas smiled. “Thanks, bud.”
“For my new favorite customer? Nothing’s too good.”
Chapter 37
It was well after dark by the time Lucas and Sierra made it to Ruby’s. Lucas was one gold coin lighter, but both of them were fully outfitted, complete with the NV monocle a magnanimous Duke had thrown in as a bonus. The crusty trader had also restocked and expanded Lucas’s first aid kit and supplied Sierra with a sidearm: a battered Colt 1911 that was well used, but would do in a pinch. Lucas had wanted something that was interchangeable with his weapons for ammo reasons and had finally talked Duke into a swap of Sierra’s AK-47 for one of the AR-15s he’d recovered when rescuing her, even though they commanded a higher trade price. Four of Hal’s white lightnings had lubricated the transaction, along with a gold one-ounce maple leaf that Lucas had hated to part with, but had seen no alternative to trading if he wanted a horse and reasonable weapons.
Sierra’s palomino mare was young, well behaved, and powerfully built for her gender, easily capable of carrying both Sierra and her niece. Tango at first seemed distracted by her presence, but quickly lost interest as Lucas pushed him harder, wanting to minimize trail time after dark. He had a bad feeling about the cartel – he didn’t think they were just going to give up, and every mile he could put between Pecos and himself seemed like a worthwhile investment in
life insurance.
When they reached the storm cellar, Lucas noted a few solar panels strategically located in one of the surrounding trees, where a black cable twisted around the trunk before disappearing into the earth. He smiled at Ruby’s ingenuity. Despite her age, she was sprightly and had the fighting spirit of a thoroughbred, which had served her well after the collapse.
He tied off the horses and Sierra helped him water them, and then he removed the saddles and bags and turned them loose to graze. Duke had told him that the mare, named Nugget, had been trained not to wander far. Lucas hoped he hadn’t been exaggerating, or his gold coin had just trotted off with Tango, never to return. Lucas saw the familiar shape of Jax by a grove of skinny trees, and Tango led Nugget to the mule for an introduction.
Sierra touched his arm, a wan smile on her face. “Thank you for everything, Lucas. I can never repay you, but I’ll try.”
Lucas turned to her, and forced himself to ignore the look in her eyes – an expression that hinted at the possibility behind her words. She rose on her tiptoes and was leaning into him when he stopped her and held her at arm’s length. “You can start by leveling with me, Sierra. I can’t ride with someone I can’t trust. You haven’t told me everything, and it’s sticking in my craw.”
The storm shelter door opening interrupted Sierra’s response, and Ruby emerged, shotgun in hand, with Eve, who ran to Sierra when she saw her in the moonlight.
“Auntie!” Eve exclaimed joyfully, and Sierra knelt to hug her. Sierra held her for a long time, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Eve,” Sierra murmured, rocking her slightly and smoothing her hair, “I’m so glad to see you. I’m sorry I had to leave you.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’ll never do that again. I promise.”
The Day After Never - Blood Honor (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller) Page 20