Kyle considered that. "Huh," he said.
"It's not there anymore," she said. "Well, its ruins are. Quiet!"
Kyle got quiet in a hurry as his mother rolled behind a bush and brought her carbine up; even then, her heart gave a little wrench as she saw him freeze like a rabbit, motionless. That was something kids had to learn in a hurry these days.
A woman came into sight, rifle held up over her head. "Sorry I'm late," she called.
"Hey," Mary said, standing up. "Hi, Gerri." She bundled up the sandwich wrappings. "No problem, it gave us a chance to eat."
"Where were you talking about?" Gerri asked. She was a dark-haired woman of medium height, thin as they all were, but heavy-boned.
"The Big Apple," Kyle said importantly.
" 'New York, New York, it's a hell of a town,' " Gerri sang.
" 'The Bronx is up and the Battery's down,' " Mary joined in.
"You said no singing!" Kyle said, considerably offended.
"Oops," Mary said. "You're right, sport. Sorry."
"No singing?" Gerri asked.
"Well, not while we're riding along. It's probably not a good idea in general," she said, blushing. "Distracting."
"Yeah, I guess there's a time and place for everything," Gerri agreed.
"Ahem. So, how're you doing?"
"/am fine. But Charley may have broken his ankle."
"Ooh. Okay, then. Let's get going."
* * *
Gerri's group had an excellent setup; a disused road tunnel nearly a quarter of a mile long, giving onto a ravine, making it easy to get in and out without leaving traces. The inside was smoky and chilly at the same time, and the inhabited part had a smell like old socks—partly actual old socks, partly just unwashed human and unlaundered clothes—combined with horse. Dinner smelled a lot better.
There was a resistance joke: When the sun rises in the east, it means we will probably have stew for dinner.
By the scent, this one had squirrel and rabbit; she'd become a connoisseur of field cooking, and thought she detected Jerusalem artichoke as well. It smelled savory, in fact—which meant thick and brown, usually.
Charley was another skinny man of indeterminate age with heavy stubble and weathered skin; she'd have pegged him as homeless, back before Judgment Day. His ankle was well and truly broken; the amount of swelling and the tense way he lay on a pine-bough bed near one of the hearths told her that.
She knelt and did a hands-on anyway; there were a lot of bones in the ankle. The talus ground together under her fingertips, the accident having happened only hours before. Her patient grunted and wheezed in lieu of screaming and gave her a wild-eyed, "what the hell are you doing?" look, while his flesh went cool and sweaty from the shock of pain. She gave him a shot of morphine, quickly set it, and wrapped the ankle in plaster.
"He's got to go back to base," she told Gerri. "That's going to take weeks to heal and he won't be any use out here while it does." Mary didn't have to mention that he would be an outright liability "out here." Even he knew that.
"Can you take him with you?"
Mary just looked at her, one eyebrow raised. Gerri refused to back down. So Mary broke it down for her. "I have two more stops today and four tomorrow. It's going to be agonizing enough for him to ride to base directly; a day and a half on horseback is something that hasn't even got a name. Not to mention it will set him back on healing."
"Short two people and two horses…" Gerri began, and followed them out. Then she smacked the heel of her hand into her forehead. "I'll ride to the ford with you."
Mary looked at her, and the unit leader went on, speaking a little louder to cut through the purl of water over rock—the white noise was good camouflage. "I needed to do a restocking run anyway, pretty soon—we're short on explosives and gun oil.
That's on the way, and we'll take Charley along on a horse stretcher; the horses can carry freight on the way back. The sooner we get him back to headquarters, the sooner we can get things back to normal."
* * *
"It is inconvenient," Mary said, .after a moment's uncomfortable silence.
The ford was where the creek ran out from the gully into flatter country, and an old graveled road ran down into it and then eastward; weeds were growing over the old ruts, bushes in some spots, and even saplings.
" Damned inconvenient."
"But accidents are inconvenient. And they'll send a replacement back with you. Don't roll your eyes at me, Gerri. I know you've got a tight group and you know each other's moves, but they won't send you a novice and there's just no way around it. Unless you plan to shoot him like a horse."
"And then we'd still need a replacement." Gerri rolled her eyes again.
"Yup." Mary gave Gerri a consoling smile. "It's not like you're light-years away from base, y'know."
Gerri grumbled something inaudible in response. Mary handed her a container of pills.
"Give him one every four hours for pain. Guard them with your life; those are hard to come by. I gave him enough morphine to make him comfortable for a while, but it's not going to last forever."
She looked at Gerri. "So how are things out here anyway?"
"Quiet." Gerri's eyes squinted as she looked around at the forested hills. Water purled around the hooves of her horse where it stood with its head down, lips slurping at the shallow rills that ran over gravel and rock.
"Way too quiet if you ask me. Nothing's moving out there but squirrels, and even they're quieter than usual." Her mouth twisted. "Makes me feel all twitchy."
"Yeah, I noticed that," Mary said. "I thought you might have an infestation. Gotta watch the personal hygiene; typhus, you know."
"Bitch," Gerri said pleasantly.
"That's Nurse Bitch to you, soldier."
Gerri grinned and opened her mouth to respond just as a rifle barked. Her face took on a distracted expression and then she slowly crumpled out of the saddle; the horse turned and pounded up the creek again, eyes wild and stirrups thumping its ribs. The more phlegmatic mules carrying the injured man merely tossed their heads and snorted.
Mary fought off her shock; she slipped to the ground and slapped the mule's rump.
"Run!" she said. "Go home!"
She turned for Kyle's mule and a bullet spanged into the ground at her feet, causing the creature to shy away, then break into a trot. She jerked toward cover and another bullet hit the ground at her feet. Mary's heartbeat was almost choking her; she looked desperately toward her son only to see a man burst from cover at the mule's feet, scaring the normally placid creature into shying.
Kyle cried out as the man grabbed his leg and shoved, causing him to lose his balance and fall hard. Mary headed toward him, and again, a bullet hit the ground before her.
Her eyes filled with tears of frustration and fear. Okay, somebody's playing a game. Be calm. Calm down. Easier thought than done. Her nerves jangled with adrenaline and her mouth was desert dry. If she headed for Kyle again, they might shoot him. She stood still, waiting for what was to come.
She watched Kyle roll around desperately on the dirt; apparently the breath had been knocked out of him and she wanted with all that was in her to be at his side. She stood still.
From out of the woods a man came in the gray camouflage that matched the winter-killed woods. He was a big man, his rifle cradled in his arms hunter-style. His face was bearded and he wore sunglasses. It wasn't bright enough to require them, but they were intimidating. Mary guessed he'd put them on for that purpose.
"Well, well," he said in a deep and pleasant voice, accented with the South. "A medic. That's somethin' that's always on our wish list, darlin'."
She looked at him. Then she swallowed, hard, and asked, "Can I see to the boy?"
"The boy? That what you call him at home? Boy?" He walked toward her a few paces and stopped. It looked, from the tilt of his head, as though he might be studying the woods around them.
"If he's no relation to you, I'm just gonna go ahead and
shoot him." The gun was in his hands and aimed as if by magic.
"No!" she shouted, stepping in his way. "Don't!"
He spat, then stared at her. Mary knew that she'd never been as frightened in her life as she was this moment—not when the bombs came down, not when that first Hunter-Killer came out of the woods, not the first time Dennis had come home wounded.
This was a whole new level of terror. And this man knew it, and he knew how to use it.
"Sure," he said now. "You go ahead."
She turned, and a bullet hit the dirt at her feet. Mary spun back toward him, the shock on her face.
"Only a fool turns their back on the enemy, darlin'."
She backed away, glancing over her shoulder so she knew where to go. She was looking at the man when a bullet hit the ground just behind her heels, surprising a cry from her.
'"Course, you're at a disadvantage, bein' surrounded. Jeff, get that boy on his feet."
Mary looked over her shoulder to see the man who'd frightened the mule go over to Kyle and lift him by one arm. Her son fell to his knees, clutching his ribs, and the man cuffed him and dragged him up by his collar. "Stop," she said, reaching toward him.
The big man cuffed her himself, sending her sprawling. Mary was startled as much as hurt; she'd had no idea he was so close to her.
"Get up," he growled, and she scrambled to her feet. He stepped close to her. "From now on, everything in the world comes from me. To you, I am now God, and honey, you'd better become a religious fanatic 'cause I've got my eye on you and my eye never closes. The water you drink, the food you eat, even the air you breathe comes from me. You understand?" She nodded, eyes down. "You don't say 'stop,' you don't say 'don't,' you don't say 'no.' You can say 'please,' but don't overdo it. Do you understand?"
She nodded, shaking. "Yes," she whispered.
"You have to say, 'yes, sir.'"
"Yes, sir."
"If I tell you to eat a handful of shit, you will do it or the next sound you hear will be Jeff putting a bullet through that kid's head. Do you understand?"
She looked up at him, her eyes large with fear. "Yes, sir." Oh, Kyle, what have I gotten you into?
"If you try to escape I will kill the boy, slowly, and I will hamstring you. Do you understand?"
She nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir."
"If I ask you a question and you do not answer honestly, I will cut him. Now. Where did you get these supplies?"
"I stole them from the hospital I worked at," she said. "Most of them. Some I got in trade." The medicines she had were fresh, but for this duty they were put into old containers, many with expiration dates long past.
"Where did they get their medicine?" he asked.
"I don't know," she said. "Other hospitals or pharmacies, I guess. Sometimes that's where I get mine, old pharmacies.
There's a lot of good stuff left if you know what it's for."
"Cut him," the man said.
'"No! Please!" Mary cried. The big man hit her. She heard Kyle scream, and when she looked up he was bleeding from a cut on his chin. Blood was pouring through his fingers and he was crying. "Why?" she asked.
He kicked her in the stomach and she went down, gasping. He stepped close to her and put his foot on her hip, forcing her onto her back, then he put his foot on her stomach.
"I don't answer 'why?'" he said. "And you don't ask it. You also don't give me more information than I ask for, and most especially, you don't lie to me!"
"I didn't," she said, weeping. "I swear!"
He looked down at her, then applied pressure with his foot until she gasped. She resisted the urge to grab his foot and after a moment he smiled.
"You learn fast. That's good. Now, where did you come from?"
"Another camp of scavengers like these," she said.
"Can you take us to 'em?"
"I can show you where they were," Mary said. "But these people move around, they might not be there."
"Do you want me to have Jeff cut that boy again?" he asked.
"What did I tell you about givin' me more information than I asked for?"
"I'm's-sorry, sir." He raised his hand and she flinched. There was no way to know how much he would choose to consider too much. She knew that it was a technique. That he was breaking her down and would continue to bark unreasonable demands and deliver arbitrary punishment as long as he thought necessary. There was nothing personal in it; he genuinely didn't care. It was just the way these things were done. Knowing this didn't seem to make it less effective.
"You told the kid to go home," he said. "Where's home?"
They'd prepared for this, an old farmhouse, ramshackle but livable, was the default location for home base. It was designed to look abandoned, but not totally so. She described it and gave its location.
"I know that place," the big man answered. "It's deserted.
Nobody lives there." When she made no comment he kicked her, hard enough to hurt without causing injury. "Well?"
"We couldn't stay, not permanently. When the snow killed our garden, I knew we had to go look for food. So we travel a circle and come home once a year."
He looked at Kyle. "And that little sprat knows the way?"
"I guess so; we've been doing it almost as long as he's been alive. He's never had to go alone, though."
Apparently he decided to believe her. Or maybe he was just too lazy to kick her again. "How do you get paid?"
"Food, mostly. Sometimes goods. Once they gave us two mules."
He snorted. "Musta done somethin' pretty good that time."
"An epidemic," she said.
"Stupid bitch," he said mildly. "That mighta been some of our work you undone." He looked at her. "Get up. Go lengthen those stirrups for me and one of my men."
She did so, walking by Kyle with but a glance, not daring to chance more. He was crying as if his heart was broken and Mary hated the fact that the only thing she could do to help was to ignore him.
"Hey! Sam! Whadda we do about this one?" a woman called.
Mary glanced up; a tall, gangling woman was standing by the horse litter that held the sleeping Charley. She'd thrown the cover open and he lay snoring in plain sight. The woman tipped him out onto the ground and he lay in an ungraceful heap, the fresh plaster of his cast standing out against the brown dirt.
"Please," Mary called out. She finished buckling the strap and took a few steps in that direction.
"Please what?" the big man, Sam, asked. "Please don't kill the fucker?" He pushed at the unconscious man with his foot. "Why the hell not?"
"Because—" Mary's voice broke on a sob. "I just fixed his foot!"
She broke down completely, falling to her knees sobbing. The marauders stared at her for a moment, then Sam broke out laughing and the others followed suit.
"I can see that," Sam said, slapping his thigh. "Sure, that's reasonable." He gave a high-pitched giggle. "You don't mind if we take the tent and blanket, do ya?"
Mary shook her head, daring to let hope bloom.
"You're not really gonna leave him alive, are ya?" the woman asked.
"Hey, Mona, he's got a cast on his foot. He's in the middle of the wilderness with no food, no supplies, no weapons, and no friends. I am killin' him."
The woman grinned, showing missing teeth. "I guess so, fearless leader."
"Hey, don't you be so sassy," Sam advised. He walked over to Mary and stroked her hair. "We got another woman with us now, girl. If you ain't nice you won't be gettin' any."
Oh, shit! Mary thought. I am so gonna get raped.
"I know what you're thinkin'," Sam said quietly. She looked up at him. "But it ain't rape if it's consensual. And it will be consensual, or that little boy is gonna pay the price. You hear me?"
Mary nodded. "Yes, sir." You dirt-eating bastard!
"All right, then." Sam mounted the mule. "Pass me up that kid," he said to Jeff. Kyle struggled a little and Sam cuffed him lightly. "You want me to hit your mama again?" he asked. Kyle s
hook his head. "Then you behave. I don't even want to know you're there. You hear me?" Kyle nodded. "All right." He looked down at Mary and smiled. "Let's move out."
If I ever see Dennis again he's going to kill me, Mary thought.
Jeff shoved her from behind and she started walking. And I won't blame him a bit because I want to kill myself.
* * *
Sam grunted one last time and rolled off her with a sigh. Mary swallowed hard, fighting nausea. She'd tried her best to cooperate, but he stank and she hated him more than she'd ever hated anyone in her life.
"That was pretty good," he said. He glanced aside at her.
"'Course it'll be better once you get to know what I like." He grinned. "And you get to like me."
After a moment she looked at him. "Can I see to my son now?"
she asked.
"No." He sounded annoyed.
"Please, he's just a little boy."
He rolled over onto her; quick as a striking snake his hand was on her throat, choking her. "Listen," Sam hissed. "I think kids are vermin. I think anyone who would have a kid after Judgment Day is a criminal." He squeezed harder. "Am I clear?"
She nodded as well as she could, forming "yes" with her lips.
He let her go and rolled onto his back.
"Now you spoiled my good mood," he said. "Get the fuck away from me."
Mary rose and picked up her clothes, then paused, wondering if she could get away with dressing before she left.
"And stay away from that kid, hear? Now get out!"
She ducked out of the tent and dressed quickly. As she was tugging down her shirt, Jeff sauntered over.
"Hey, sugar, don't get all dressed yet," he said, grinning.
"Jeff!" Sam bellowed from inside the tent. "Go fuck yourself, or Mona. Leave 'er alone."
Jeff glared at Mary in a way that made her feel that from now on, if he could do her a bad turn, he would. Then he walked away.
Shit, she thought wearily. Shit, shit, shit.
* * *
They'd been walking east for five days now, passing the occasional cluster of deserted farms, a number of small towns falling apart in slow motion, and once, in the distance, the charred ruins of a city. Most of the people they saw had been dead a long time. But once they crossed the path of some gypsies.
The Future War t2-3 Page 27