Badlands: A Post-Apocalyptic Journey

by Nathan Jones

  “Gone, as far as I can tell.” Tom motioned to the vehicle. “I plan to walk back to the convoy, make sure they really have left as well as see if they left us anything we can use. You and the boy should stay here until I'm sure it's safe.”

  “That sounds reasonable,” the flaxen-haired woman agreed. Tom nodded and was turning towards the mouth of the gully to do just what he'd suggested when she continued in a determined voice. “And about us going to Newpost?”

  He paused, then with a sigh turned back to find Kristy standing with her shoulders straight and her blue eyes narrowed at him. Well, say nothing else for the woman, she was determined. But he supposed now was as good a time for this as any. “I'm listening.”

  She frowned at him for a few seconds as she gathered her thoughts. “I get the feeling you were patronizing me earlier, Mr. Miller. Saying what I wanted to hear while all along planning to do what you'd already decided.”

  Tom did his best to hold back his irritation. “I said I'd hear you out, Mrs. Graham. I keep my promises.”

  “Like you did with Simon about taking us to Texas?” she shot back.

  Rather than rise to the bait he just smiled lazily. “You really want to start off this negotiation by antagonizing me, ma'am?” The young mother flushed, but seemed to realize he had a point and kept her peace. Tom jerked his head towards the northwest. “Here's the situation as I see it. After I've taken anything useful left behind from the convoy my path takes me to Carson National Forest, where I can hunt and fish and forage for food. From there I plan to skirt the mountains to the west and return to Grand Junction, then continue on home.”

  He waited to see if she had anything to say, then continued. “You and the boy are welcome to join me to the trade hub, or even all the way back to Utah if you decide your best bet is heading back to the Utah Valley fallout zone. No matter which option you decide I'll see you make it there in one piece.”

  Kristy scowled. “And if I decide our best bet Newpost?”

  Tom shrugged. “I have no reason to go there now, and more than a few reasons not to. The main one being that I'm going to have to work double time to replace what I lost on this disastrous expedition and I'd like to get started as soon as possible.”

  That seemed to offend the woman. “What about what all our other people lost?” she snapped. “Their lives or freedom most of all! Don't you have the slightest desire to go to the authorities in Newpost and let them know our friends need saving?”

  “Newpost may be the new center of prosperity in what's left of the United States,” Tom replied dryly, “but I doubt even they have the weapons and men to deal with the group we just faced. And they certainly don't have the vehicles. Meanwhile those bandits wouldn't take that many people just for themselves, which suggests they have someplace they're coming from where there's probably lots more men with big guns and military vehicles.”

  Kristy apparently liked hearing that dose of reality even less. “Nevertheless, I feel like I have to try,” she insisted.

  Tom scrutinized her for a moment. He could admire her determination and courage, and during the trip he'd certainly seen her put her back to her handcart and push every bit as hard as her companions. But the plain fact was he could tell at a glance that she didn't have the skill or experience necessary to get her and her son the remaining distance to Texas. Without his help she wouldn't get out of the badlands alive at all.

  Which meant it was her determination facing up against the fact that she needed him, and Tom meant to make it clear he could be every bit as stubborn as she seemed to be. He was going home, willing to help her and the boy get safely back to wherever they wanted to go as well, but that was it.

  Still, he'd promised to hear her out. “Well you're welcome to try if you feel like you have to. On your own, that is . . . if you want my help doing anything but heading for Carson National Forest you're going to need to make it worth my while. And it's going to have to be a seriously generous offer, all things considered.”

  The flaxen-haired woman folded her arms. “Okay, let's start with the obvious. We paid you to get us to Texas, and you're very proud of the fact that you're a man of your word.”

  Tom once again did his best to hide his annoyance. “No, Simon was going to pay me to get an equipped convoy to Texas. Which would've been difficult enough even if my pay and all my earthly goods hadn't just been jacked by a bunch of bandits with motor vehicles. If the convoy's picked clean I'm not sure it's even possible to get you and a small child there on my own, and I have zero incentive to try.”

  Kristy obviously didn't like hearing that, but she nodded grudgingly. “Okay. You're turning back because the convoy's gone and you can't get Simon's payment anymore, right?” Looking resigned, she reached into the front pocket of her jeans and pulled out a flat cloth purse, opening it to pour a handful of junk silver and a one-ounce silver coin onto her palm. “Would this convince you?”

  He felt for her sincere desperation, and the offer was solemn and dignified, but even so Tom couldn't help but laugh incredulously. “That's a fraction of what your leader promised me when we reached Texas.” The woman gave him a wounded look and opened her mouth to argue, and he continued firmly. “No, it's not enough. You couldn't offer me enough to take that kind of risk. If that's the best you've got we're going back.”

  The flaxen-haired woman flushed but continued resolutely. “We're so close, we have to continue. Texas was our last chance to have some kind of future. It's all we have.”

  Then you don't have anything, Tom thought. But he wasn't cruel enough to say so. “Grand Junction has opportunities too, or Utah if you choose to go back. And I'm actually willing to take you there. You should be thanking me.”

  “There's nothing for us if we go back.” Sky blue eyes stared at him pleadingly. “Don't you get it? For the last few months my life has been a million tons of Schumer hitting the fan nonstop. I haven't been able to do anything but stand there as it splatters me.”

  Tom couldn't help but smile slightly. “That's a fetching metaphor.”

  She was doing her best to present a strong front in her argument, but he couldn't help but notice the tears glistening in her eyes, face a painting of desperation and hopelessness. “If you won't do it for yourself or for the convoy, do it for me and my son. Please. We're already offering you all we have.”

  At hearing his mother's tone Skyler came forward to stand beside her, looking at him with silent judgment in his eyes. The young mother put an arm around her son, still meeting Tom's gaze with earnest pleading.

  It was hard not to be moved by their silent appeal, irrational as it was. Tom had to look away as he shook his head. “I'm sorry, ma'am,” he said gently. “For your loss, and for the current hardship you find yourselves in. But you'll only be in a worse situation if you keep going. I won't be a part of it.”

  Kristy silently put the coins away, staring at the ground with obvious reluctance, possibly even shame, on her pretty face as she left her son behind and took a step closer to him. “There's something else I could offer you if you'll help us,” she said in a hesitant voice.

  Son of a . . . Tom really, really wished the conversation hadn't taken this turn. And in front of the kid, too. “I'm not the kind of man who makes deals like that with women,” he said flatly.

  The young mother looked up at him sharply, and for a moment her desperation was replaced with confusion. Then her expression twisted in disgust and outrage. “Not . . . that's not . . .” she began furiously. “No! Get that thought right out of your head!”

  Tom hastily raised his hands, feeling his face flush with mortification that he'd so badly misjudged her intentions. He couldn't think of anything to say to fix this situation so he just waited for her to clarify.

  After glaring at him for almost half a minute Kristy huffed an affronted breath and stepped over to lean against the cargo rack on the four wheeler. “My husband buried a bunch of valuables up near Utah Valley before he died. Gold, silver, jew
elry, guns, bullets. All kinds of things. I'll tell you where to find them.”

  He frowned at her, not sure he liked having his intelligence insulted any more than having his morals questioned. “I'm sure he did.”

  She glared back. “He did! It took him years to collect it all. Years of hardship and suffering, and-” she abruptly cut off, stricken with what looked like genuine grief.

  Tom still wasn't buying it. “And you left all that wealth behind and gave up the chance to live in luxury to, what, take a jaunt across the badlands dressed in rags?”

  Kristy's eyes darted down to her patched and threadbare clothes, flushing. “I have my reasons. But it's there, I'm telling you the truth.” She suddenly perked up. “Remember that junk silver my son had? It came from what my husband collected.” At her side Skyler nodded eagerly in confirmation.

  Tom did remember, but still remained unconvinced. “If this is really the truth, then keep telling it until it makes sense why you left it behind.” He jerked his head towards the ATV. “Otherwise we head back to Grand Junction and thank our lucky stars we survived this.” He dropped his voice to a mutter. “And while you're at it, it wouldn't hurt you to thank me helping you that much, either.”

  He wasn't sure if he'd intended for her to hear that, but from the way her eyes narrowed he guessed she had. Well, she hadn't exactly shown much gratitude about the fact that he'd risked his life to take down two armed men with just his knife so they could escape.

  “He got the stuff from the fallout zone,” she finally snapped.

  Well . . . that definitely made the pieces of her story fit. And explained why when Tom gave the bag of junk silver to her back in Grand Junction she'd held it like it was a dead rat. He couldn't help but laugh incredulously. “So you want to pay me with contaminated goods, so if I actually did manage to get you safely to Texas my reward would be dying of radiation poisoning?”

  “It's all been carefully washed,” she said through gritted teeth. “Decontaminated. Simon ran the convoy's Geiger counter over that junk silver and didn't hear a blip.”

  “And you're so confident of that you didn't take any of the rest of this buried treasure for yourself, even though you obviously need it?”

  Kristy looked away. “Get your own Geiger counter to test it and some protective gear while handling it if you want to be safe. It'll be worth the effort, I promise you.”

  Tom kicked one foot up against the wall of the gully behind him, crossing his arms. “So basically you want me to take you on a trail I've barely survived myself the few times I've attempted it, under-supplied and underprepared, and my reward if I manage to make it back to Utah alive will be loot from a fallout zone that might not be there and that I might not even be able to safely use?”

  “Would you like to know exactly how much gold, how much silver, how much palladium and platinum, how many jewelry pieces, what guns, how much ammo, and all the other useful and valuable things my husband was able to gather?” She glared at him with pale blue eyes. “You couldn't spend it all in a lifetime.”

  “Yeah, it's fun to fantasize about imaginary treasure,” Tom said sarcastically. She opened her mouth for an angry reply and he held up a hand. “Tell you what. Daylight's wasting and I need to go check out the convoy. By the time I get back I'll have made up my mind.”

  Kristy gave him a narrow look. “Are you patronizing me again? Is this just your way of getting me to shut up until you come back with the same answer you planned to give all along?”

  He grinned. “If I thought it would work?” He lightly kicked off the cliff and sauntered over to look at the panniers on the back of the four wheeler. Who knew, maybe they'd been carrying an extra gas can or two. Wherever he chose to take them that would certainly help a lot in this situation.

  As for her proposal, at the moment he had to admit she was right about him patronizing her; as things stood he had no intention of taking her and the boy to Texas.

  It turned out the vehicle only carried some spare ammo and magazines for the guns, a few maps of the US Southwest, Mexico, and Central America, scouting tools like binoculars and a compass, a bit of camping gear, and a few days' worth of food and water.

  No fuel. Tom closed the last pannier with a decisive snap. “Be back soon,” he called over his shoulder as he started down the gully. Behind him mother and son watched him go from the shade of the overhang.

  Chapter Ten

  Final Goodbyes

  Tom saw no sign of the bandits returning as he hiked south for over an hour to where the abandoned convoy waited for him.

  In fact, the attackers had been so eager to get going they'd even left their dead behind, or maybe just hadn't cared enough to take them along. Although of course they'd looted the bodies beforehand and righted the flipped ATV to take with them.

  The bandits' complete lack of sentimentality gave Tom the impression they probably wouldn't be coming back. Even so he continued to strain his ears listening for their engines as he approached the circled wagons.

  The first thing to take care of was dealing with the bodies of Brad and the other two wounded convoy members who'd been so callously executed. He didn't consider himself particularly sentimental, but he did believe in giving folks a proper burial.

  It was the least you could do.

  Unfortunately this particular stretch of land was mostly gritty dirt over slickrock and burial wasn't really an option. The best he could think of was to drag the bodies into some semblance of an orderly line, then once he had them arranged cover them over with a canvas tarp from one of the wagons, weighing it down with rocks.

  It was hard to look at the faces of people he'd known, even if just as traveling companions, whose lives had been so brutally cut short. He spent several minutes standing beside Brad's body, giving the man a respectful sendoff. He'd got the distinct impression the man hadn't liked him any more than his friend Simon did, and to be honest given a choice he probably would've preferred to spend his time with other people, too.

  But he was still one of the men in the convoy Tom had spent the most time with, and he had respected the man's drive and determination as Simon's second in command.

  “There was nothing I could do,” he said into Brad's blankly accusing stare before gently closing his eyes. His vision blurred for a moment and he savagely swiped his sleeve across his face.

  Too late he remembered the buckskin, like most of his shirt, hair, and beard, was caked with dried blood from the bandit he'd killed. He'd tried to clean himself up as best he could in his lookout spot before the bandits began their search, well aware of how horrifying he must look to Kristy and Skyler, but without a source of water he couldn't do much.

  Cursing softly to himself, Tom hurried to cut the tarp off a wagon and began searching for rocks and debris from the convoy to weigh it down. Once finished with that he stepped back and bowed his head to give the dead a final moment of respectful silence, wishing he could've done more for them. Even this far out in the badlands scavengers would soon be along to go after the bodies.

  All part of nature, he knew, but it wasn't pleasant to think about.

  He just hoped he, Kristy, and Skyler would be gone before then and wouldn't have to witness the sight of people they'd known being savaged by wild animals. Especially the young mother and child, who'd likely been closer to these people than he'd been.

  Thinking of the two brought back the issue of whether to insist they take the safer and easier route back to Grand Junction, or do as she asked and push on to Newpost.

  Frankly her promise to share the location of some fantastical buried treasure wasn't much of a draw. It was hard to drum up much enthusiasm for wealth contaminated with radioactive fallout, and while he didn't think she was lying the fact that she didn't go for it herself, and her husband had probably died from radiation poisoning while collecting it, told him just how unlikely it was that he'd find it safe or usable.

  Tom would follow up on it, of course. He'd be stupid not to. But to b
e honest the main reason he might lean towards accepting the young mother's deal was because he just couldn't say no to such obvious desperation.

  Besides, while covering the dead he'd reached the conclusion that making for Newpost wasn't such a terrible option in spite of his objections. For one thing he'd be able to purchase supplies for the return trip there, even if it cut deeply into his funds for buying a new horse. And once he'd delivered Kristy and Skyler to their new lives he'd be able to make the return trip on his own, which would make it much easier.

  Also he had to admit to a bit of curiosity about just what the blazes was going on down there, with well equipped bandits from a former, or perhaps even current, BRICKS nation raiding deep into the US Southwest in working vehicles. It'd be nice to find out if he might have a reason to be worried that Colorado and even Utah might eventually become targets.

  And while it seemed unlikely that Newpost could offer any help for the captured convoy members, Kristy wasn't wrong that they should at least try if they were going to be headed that way anyways. If nothing else the officials there should be informed about what had happened.

  Although he had a feeling they were probably well aware that there were a bunch of bandits driving around in vehicles attacking folks.

  Tom frowned, squinting southeast towards their distant destination. Was it his rational mind pushing for him to make for Newpost after all, or the sight of a pretty woman's tears? Did it matter if it was the best decision in the end?

  He sighed. It looked as if he'd be taking the lady and her kid to Newpost after all, assuming he could manage it with gear and supplies scavenged from the convoy. If not then it was a moot point anyway.

  Decided, he turned away from the three bodies and headed for the circled wagons, getting to work sifting through the various debris of sixty people's lives that the bandits had left scattered around on the ground. As he'd expected, after taking all the people they'd only had room to take the most valuable and useful things and everything else behind.