Years After Series | Book 1 | Nine Years After

by Clary, LeRoy

  Two men dressed in the now-familiar blue military uniforms held rifles at the ready as they slowly moved forward, about ten yards apart. They were not the recruits we’d faced. These were older, more experienced, as evidenced by their movements and working together. Their eyes were in constant motion, their weapons held ready to use. They were hunting. Hunting us.

  They came directly at our location, one to each side which would take them almost directly to us. I tracked the one on my side with the sights on my gun, when movement behind them drew my attention. Two more soldiers were lagging fifty yards behind.

  There could be more behind them.

  The principle was easy to figure out. The first two were trying to draw us out. With the first sign of trouble, those who were behind would rush ahead to join the battle. They all had rifles, good for distance shooting. Our pistols were quality weapons—but they were pistols. I wished again for the rifles that had been taken from us and sent to Sir Wilson, but that did as little as wishing that it was two-against-two instead of us against however many of them were there.

  The uncertainty of numbers worried me. I had no doubt Tess and I could kill the first two. However, the second pair would be warned and were professional soldiers. Worse, there might be more behind them. I glanced at Tess. She made a face I didn’t interpret to mean anything, but she was insistent about something. She held a finger to her lips.

  Of course, I was not going to talk to her. Then she shifted her position slightly. I realized that she was circling the base of the tree so the two advance soldiers wouldn’t see her as they moved past.

  I got it.

  She would let the first pair pass by us and wait for the second to get nearer. Those coming behind were at the extreme range for our pistols. There was too much chance of either of us missing or warning them, and then they might have the advantage. Tess wanted those behind to come closer to where we wouldn’t miss. The two in advance would still be in range.

  She held up two fingers, pointed to me, then at the first two soldiers.

  I didn’t understand.

  She impatiently pointed to herself, held up two fingers, and pointed behind, in the direction of those following. I understood. She would shoot the pair behind. I was to take the first two.

  They approached carefully, their eyes looking everywhere for enemies. They knew we had to be somewhere hiding between the two hills if we were here at all. From their standpoint, we had probably run in the other direction, which any sane people would have done.

  Before they came around the two boulders I hid behind, I pulled a fist full of tall yellow flowers, like pulling weeds at the farm we stopped at, roots and all. I placed them in front of my head as I remained still.

  The flowers didn’t fully hide my head or body, but they disguised my shape enough that it would be harder to see me. Sarge had stressed, and I had listened, that anything to break the outline of a person made them almost invisible. I’d used the same technique twice before with success. I planned to wait until Tess fired, then I would.

  Plans are only that. They are not reality. When the first two came even with me, they spread out as the valley widened at that point. The nearest was only ten steps away when he saw me.

  There was no choice, and no chance to delay. I shot him twice, the first with the bullet found on the floor of the sanctuary entrance. My pistol shifted targets and two more pulls of the trigger caused the second one to drop. I wished the army had left the belts with the silencers, extra magazines, and fire-starter because the shots echoed off the mountains causing birds to take flight.

  I cursed my mind for thinking those thoughts in the middle of a gunfight.

  As my first shots echoed off the hills, Tess had also fired twice, only slightly after mine. Then another and another. An answering shot from a different gun sounded. There was, at least, one survivor because I’d been forced to shoot early. I wormed my way around the edge of the boulder and pointed my gun where I thought the soldier might be.

  He wasn’t.

  Looking around the edge of the boulder for him presented a target of my head. I pulled back and looked to Tess for instructions. She shrugged. She had lost him too. I made a quick examination of the ground and found one man down. That made three.

  There was no sign of number four—or any others. But one was alive.

  Suddenly, a familiar ragged figure emerged from the underbrush and waved for attention without calling out. It was Bream. He pointed excitedly off to one side, and lower down on the side of the hill than I expected. Where he pointed, a tangle of dead trees was piled haphazardly at the bottom of the slope as if they had all slid down at the same time. Maybe in a violent rainstorm, but no matter. If Bream said the lone gunman was there, I pointed my weapon at the spot.

  None of us moved, except for Bream when he melted into the shadows again. We waited. It seemed likely that the first of us three to move would die. Bream would remain safely hidden, I thought.

  A fist-sized rock sailed from the trees where Bream had ducked into. It flew in a high arc that landed near the pile of dead trees he’d pointed at. Bream was throwing rocks from a concealed location. Another rock flew. Then another.

  If one landed on the soldier, it would hurt, if not kill him, but there was no target for the soldier to shoot at. Bream was throwing each high up and over the ridge he hid behind where no bullet could travel. Smart. Sooner or later, one of them would strike the soldier.

  Then, after a long wait, a single shot rang out and the bullet struck the trees. The shot came from the top of the hill where Bream had been. He had a gun.

  The soldier now faced falling rocks and a shooter. He broke from cover and darted our way.

  Tess waited until he was almost upon her, then shot him in his leg, reminiscent of Mayfield doing the same the first time we entered a gunfight. We first checked on the two dead soldiers nearest to us, as I apologized to her for shooting too soon.

  “Plans never go as expected,” she said as she checked the man’s pockets, weapons, and purse. After the second one, she called out, “Bream, get your skinny butt down here.”

  As we searched the third dead one, Bream was suddenly standing near us. There was no joy or pleasure in him. From the timid expression, I expected him to bolt and disappear.

  Instead, Tess said, “We owe you. Maybe our lives. Want to eat with us tonight?”

  His head bobbed eagerly, but his eyes never went near the bodies.

  I didn’t blame him.

  I said, “Bream, we told you to stay back there, not get involved in a shooting war.”

  “I want to come with you.”

  “You could have been killed,” Tess said as the three of us watched the last man thrash and moan. She had shot him high up on his outer leg, almost to his hip. From the ruckus the soldier made, it hurt a lot worse than it looked.

  The other three were dead, their weapons removed, just in case. Bream picked up a stick and appeared like he was going to whip the wounded man with it, as he’d been whipped. I said sternly, “No, we don’t do that.”

  He was confused but let the stick fall from his fingers.

  Tess reached down and grabbed a fist full of hair and lifted the injured man almost off the ground. She leaned in close and said, “We don’t have a lot of time and if you don’t want to talk to us, we can shoot you now and save all of us a lot of trouble.”

  “Ahhh?”

  Tess let his head fall back as she pulled her gun and pointed it at him.

  “Um, I can talk. A little.”

  She replaced the gun without ever pointing it. “Are there just four of you?”

  “Yes. I mean, if you want to know how many were watching the door that that underground thing, or how many are in the army?” His words spilled out freely as he tried to please us.

  “How long have you four been watching it?”

  “Since winter. Aw, my leg hurts. We found it then. Others had already dug the hole and got inside. They killed the people
down there and took the weapons, not us.”

  Tess said as if speaking about the weather that might come tomorrow, “Then why are you here, now?”

  “We captured some of those who went down there and seized their weapons and ammo. Sir Wilson thinks there are other places like that.”

  “So, you just waited and watched?” I snarled.

  “No. We found them right after they killed everyone and were celebrating. We captured anybody we could and took them into Everett. Sir Wilson was very interested and gave us rewards.” He paused and grimaced. “Can you take me to a doctor?”

  I said, “Why was he so interested?”

  The man was openly crying in pain. His shoulders jerked and tears ran down his cheeks. His hands were covered in his blood as he attempted to stem the flow from his hip.

  I’d seen the wound. An inch to the right and Tess would have missed his leg. As it was, he had a three-inch-long slash of a wound and the bullet had never actually entered his body. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell. He finally said through his sobs, “There was so much stuff they brought up. Guns. Ammo. Food. Everything. They must have spent a week looking through the place.”

  That was not good to hear. Having found those items in one sanctuary meant Sir Wilson and his army were going to redouble their efforts to find more locations. The guns and ammo gave Sir Wilson a huge advantage over his opponents in nearby cities. Another one or two sanctuaries would guarantee victory over makeshift and worn-out guns.

  Sanctuaries that held only three hundred people were the smallest. I knew that. I suspected Sir Wilson didn’t. My mind went to the other extreme. If the weapons in a sanctuary of three hundred shifted the balance of power, what would the weapons from a sanctuary ten times that size do?

  There was another sanctuary in the downtown part of the city of Everett, almost at his feet. It held up to four thousand people. While it may have already been found, it may not. It probably had ten weapons for each of ours, and ten times the ammo.

  I knew about it because of the rose icon located on the maps and earlier conversations in Deep Hole about the large sanctuaries that were located in Everett, Seattle, Tacoma, and other large cities. I also had memorized the recognition code Sarge had provided to verify who I was with those below if it was still safe. I said, “Just the four of you on watch here? You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  I detected the pause and deception. A glance at Tess told me she felt the same. I let the deception pass as I said, “How long do you spend watching this place? You said, since winter, but I find that hard to believe.”

  His eyes shifted as he considered outright lying. My hand went to his wound and I dug a thumbnail into the soft, bloody tissue. He cried out, then said, “Five days. We rotate every five days.”

  “How many days have you been here this time?”

  He began, “Fo . . . Two. We’ve been here for two days. Two. That’s the truth.” He had started to lie and changed his mind when he considered the consequences of what I might do to him if caught. He tilted his head to peer at me and asked, “What’s wrong with your skin?”

  His lip had curled with the question. For some reason that drew my anger. Instead of reaching for his wound again, I shrugged and said offhandedly, “On the other side of the mountains I caught something evil where a great battle had taken place last spring. Everyone I touch, well, their skin turns pukish yellow like mine after a few days. I don’t think they die or anything, but who knows?”

  I relented on the pressure my finger had placed on his wound as he squirmed away from me, terrified.

  Tess gave me a little slap on my shoulder as if to tell me I’d done well. There were not ten more soldiers about to charge over the hill and attack us today. She said in what sounded like good humor to the man, despite the subject, “The other three are dead. Would you like to live?”

  He quickly nodded.

  She said, “There’s a little stream close by. We can leave you some food, and even bandage your leg for you. Will that be okay? I mean, we all know I should shoot you again and do a better job of it this time, but bullets are expensive.”

  “What do you want?”

  She said, “You don’t owe us anything but your life. Suppose we do those things for you, put you in some shade near the water where your soldier friends will find you in a couple of days when they come to relieve you. They will ask questions.”

  “Okay . . .”

  I’d like you to lie to them,” she said.

  “Lie?”

  “Falsehoods, white lies, that sort of thing. Can I depend on you?”

  He nodded vigorously, having no idea of what lies to tell, or that failing to agree might cause him more pain.

  Her voice was smooth as soft as if she was sharing sacred confidence, “Good. I want you to tell them there were four of us, all armed to the teeth. We wore the green uniforms of the North Seattle soldiers, and you killed at least two, so you’re a bit of a hero. Maybe you’ll get a reward for that. Say they ambushed your men and thought you were dead. They talked about an attack coming from the north where they are massing an army.”

  “Huh?”

  She leaned closer. “Think about it. You’ll be treated like a hero for sounding the alarm. Mention the name of the town of Arlington. It’s a small city up north of here. They are sneaking from Seattle to Arlington and will attack Everett from there, while more will attack from the south. You don’t know the date or anything else. Just that.”

  “Hero? Me?”

  She sat back and smiled. “Sir Wilson himself will probably reward you well for the information. But if you even breathe a single word about us, and we’re captured later, guess what we’re gonna say if you don’t help us with the lie?”

  “What?”

  “That you agreed to help us in exchange for twenty bullets. We’ll tell them you pointed out where the other three were sleeping and we killed them and let you go because of your help.”

  “They would kill me if they thought that, but they won’t,” he said in a voice so strong it was as if his leg no longer hurt.

  Tess went on in the same calm tone as earlier, “Well, to make sure they believe me, I’m going to go hide twenty bullets nearby.” She let the magazine fall from the butt of her gun and caught it, turning it so the sunlight glinted off the new-looking bullets. “If we get captured, I’ll tell them where you hid them. Then they will find them right where I say and know I told the truth—and you are a traitor.”

  “Wait. They would hang me and toss my dead body to the dogs. You can’t do that.” His voice had grown soft. “Please don’t do it.”

  “Then you had better go along with what I told you. Tell convincing lies, not too detailed. They will believe you.” She turned to me. “Help me get this hero to the stream and count out twenty of those nine-millimeter shells for me, will you? Look for a good place to hide them.”

  We got him situated where he could drink, his wound wrapped in a clean rag, and jerky to eat. While Tess took care of those few things, in his line of sight, I counted out twenty bright, new shells and silently handed them to her.

  She went over the details with him once more, then turned to me. “I’ll hide these on the way. We need to go. Where’s Bream?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Bream,” she shouted. “Bream, get down here.”

  There was no answer.

  I followed her as we left, my eyes scanning left and right, and behind. Bream was nearby, I knew it, but didn’t want to be told to go away again. She took us to the other hillside and located a path that went up the side. We followed it to a small clearing with a view of the entrance to the sanctuary across the small valley. It was perfect for watching for the likes of us. There were tattered tents sporting patches of several colors, old, dirty military clothing, a cooking pot, and little else of value.

  I did find a wide belt that fit around my waist and wore it over the outside of my clothing, with my gun tucked i
nside. It was much more comfortable than stuffed inside my pants. While it might sound silly to others, the loaded pistol felt safer in the belt where it was not in such proximity to personal parts of me that I hold dear.

  Yes, I know there was only the difference in the thickness of a layer or two of cloth, but my mind was taking charge. I liked the difference and felt safer.

  We went down the hillside and worked our way around the base and into the edge of the valley. Tess squatted in the tall grass and said, “What now?”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  “Tell me,” she said.

  “Everett. We need to get downtown.”

  “Sir Wilson is not downtown.” She waited for the explanation that didn’t come.

  I said, “I know.”

  She stood. “Lead the way.”

  Our trust had progressed to that point. I didn’t need to explain the next part of my plan.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  We kept to the cover of the trees, as always. Everett lay directly west of us, located on the edge of Puget Sound. Between Everett and us was a large river, according to the maps, it was not one we could wade across or find a fallen tree to walk on.

  No matter. We had a destination.

  The more I thought about three or four thousand people possibly living in a sanctuary a mile from the notorious Sir Wilson, or whatever fancy name he called himself, the more determined I became to find out for myself if it had already been breached. If it had, I would head for Montana, with or without Tess.

  If it hadn’t . . . I didn’t know what I’d do. While there was a feeling of responsibility for those people, it was not because of the four leaders at Deep Hole or the people in the larger sanctuary. My responsibility, the one that my mind dwelled on, was to Mayfield. Only her. We’d made a pact and her death didn’t change it. Cap was there also, but not in the same way.