Refugees from the Righteous Horde (Toxic World Book 2)

by Sean McLachlan

  Silence. Jeb wasn’t fooled. He knew that had been a miss.

  He eased around one side of the boulder and braced his gun. There wasn’t much underbrush here, but the trees were still twenty yards away at least. He couldn’t see a thing. The dry little clusters of twigs dazzled him in a subtle way, forcing him to focus on them. Jeb allowed his eyes to relax and focus further away, at the small spaces between those bushes.

  He caught a hint of movement, a pale gray in the gathering blue-black. He fired.

  Nothing.

  A moment later Christina fired, from a lot closer to the copse than he would have given her credit for. A third shooter, from the copse’s flank, fired a three-round burst into the trees.

  Jeb advanced, knowing the other two would do the same. That was the smart thing to do if they didn’t want this guy to get away, and these New City/Burbs folks knew what they were doing.

  After about ten yards there was a shot from beyond the copse and a flicker of movement. By the time Jeb got a chance to aim the Elect had gone to ground. Jeb zeroed in on his position and within another five yards met up with Christina. They stayed apart and swept through the area, finding nothing. In the dim light they couldn’t see any tracks.

  Jeb put in a fresh clip and switched back to semiauto. It was too dark for proper aiming. They hugged the earth, listening. Their patience was rewarded with the sound of movement behind a low rise. After a moment there was silence.

  Christina and Jeb moved forward. Hopefully their companion was moving forward too, and was smart enough to know they weren’t the enemy.

  The enemy fired, the flare of his rifle showing exactly where he was and where he was aiming—at their unknown companion. The Elect got a response in the form of a shotgun blast.

  So it’s Annette. A bit far for your shotgun but maybe you winged him.

  Annette fired again, and for a moment there was no response. Then they heard movement again.

  By that time Jeb and Christina had gotten much closer, using the fire as cover for their advance.

  Silence. They advanced more cautiously, coming to a low line of rocks that they didn’t dare go over. Instead they moved along them, stopping as they heard movement on the other side.

  Jeb gave Christina a significant look, and in one fluid motion snapped his AK to full auto, got up on his knees with his gun over head and sprayed the area on the other side of the rocks. Christina sprang up a moment later and took out the Elect with a single shot.

  “Nice shot,” Jeb said.

  They looked at the body. The cultist was bleeding all over.

  “Looks like you got him before I did,” Christina said.

  Movement to their left made them turn. Annette’s whisper came out of the darkness.

  “It’s me.”

  Jeb dropped his weapon like it had suddenly become red hot. When the sheriff crawled out of the shadows she looked at him and asked, “What’s this?”

  “He helped out,” Christina said.

  The firing had died down. Annette strapped the AK to her back and said, “I think we got them all. Let’s sweep the area. If I think we’re going to get in more trouble, I’ll give you this back.”

  Eventually they all got back together. The others had taken out a few more of the enemy but no one was sure if any got away or not.

  “They retreated quick enough,” Jackson said.

  “They wanted to take us out by surprise,” Jeb replied. “When that didn’t happen they decided to pull out. They’re going to warn The Pure One.”

  “I bet the patrol was spotted and these guys were sent to find it. They found us instead.”

  “If any survived they’re going to hightail it back to the main body and tell them we’re here, and a lot closer than we should have been. It won’t take long to figure out that we’re not headed for the pass, but following them.”

  Annette looked into the darkness into which they had disappeared. “And they’ll come back with a lot more men. They won’t want us finding out where they’re going. They’re going to make sure to wipe us out this time.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Susanna awoke to voices. Opening her eyes, she saw she lay on a sofa in what looked like a living room. She had no memory of how she had gotten there. Daylight shone through clean glass. Her two guards from last night sat in chairs nearby. One looked at her and nudged his friend awake.

  Susanna sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  “Where am I?”

  “Marcus Callahan’s house,” one of the guards replied. “You fell asleep at dinner. Practically did a faceplant into your stew.”

  “Oh,” she said, yawning and stretching.

  Marcus came into the room. “Ah, I thought I heard your voice. How did you sleep? We really shouldn’t have let you stay within the walls last night, but we couldn’t wake you and it seemed like poor hospitality to carry you to some shack in the Burbs.”

  Marcus’ wife Rosie came in right behind him and treated Susanna to a wide smile.

  “We’re just finishing up breakfast but we saved you some. You boys are welcome too, now that you’re up.”

  The guards looked embarrassed for being caught sleeping on duty. They and Susanna rose. For a moment her head spun and she had to hold onto the edge of the sofa.

  “You OK?” Marcus asked.

  “Just a bit weak.”

  “Rosie will fatten you up, don’t you worry.”

  As they entered the dining area Susanna saw a blonde girl of about fourteen sitting at the table cleaning off the last eggs from her plate.

  “This is Jessica,” Rosie said. “She’s staying with us for a while.”

  “Good morning,” Susanna said as she sat down. Jessica gave her a shy smile in return. So this was The Giver’s daughter? She looked more like his granddaughter. Susanna wondered if the two were really related and decided it didn’t matter. In the wildlands people were whatever they said they were.

  But why send this young girl to spy on New City?

  Maybe because no one would suspect her, just like the people at Weissberg didn’t suspect me.

  Rosie served up three heaping plates of eggs and toast and Susanna dug in. Jessica finished her breakfast and stepped away from the table to help Rosie in the kitchen. Susanna kept quiet and listened to their conversation, but it was only about common things. She noticed how the old woman’s face lit up every time Jessica called her “Aunt Rosie.” Jessica looked content as she cleaned the plates and helped tidy up the kitchen.

  The two guards finished up and went to the washbasin to clean their hands. Jessica came over and served Susanna seconds.

  “Eat slowly,” Jessica said, “Aunt Rosie says it’s not good to eat too quickly on such an empty stomach.”

  “Thanks, you like it here?” Susanna asked.

  Jessica’s face lit up. “Yeah, I love it. I used to live in the wildlands. Nasty out there.”

  “You’re telling me,” Susanna smiled back.

  Jessica looked embarrassed. “Oh! Sorry. I mean. . .”

  “It’s OK. Everyone’s seen trouble.” Susanna glanced over Jessica’s shoulder. Rosie was clattering dishes and the guards were talking with their backs turned. She let her voice fall to a whisper. “I have a note for you.”

  Jessica’s face changed in an instant. Her smile vanished, replaced with a frown and a hard gaze that made her look twice as old.

  Speaking of trouble, it looks like I just gave you some. You don’t even need to ask who it’s from, do you?

  With a visible effort, Jessica composed herself and turned lightly to Rosie.

  “I’m going to take Susanna to my room and see if my old sweater will fit her, OK?”

  Rosie beamed a smile at her. “Oh, how nice of you! Yes, you two run along.”

  Susanna got up while Jessica went on, “You know, I think it might be a little short for you. I grew out of it last year. It’s awfully warm and with the winter. . .”

  Susanna glanced at the guards. Like
all men, they didn’t pay attention when women talked with each other unless they thought the women were talking about them.

  Jessica took her by the hand and led her into a small alcove with a bed, a heap of dirty clothes on the floor, and a small stove of hammered tin.

  “You even get your own heat,” Susanna said.

  Jessica smiled. “Uncle Marcus installed it when I moved in.”

  “He seems like a good man.”

  “He is,” Jessica’s face hardened again as she extended a hand. “Give it to me.”

  Susanna was taken aback. In this world it was common to see the young look old, but she had never seen a young person switch from old to young and back again.

  Susanna reached into her inside shirt and pulled out the note. “Here.”

  “Did you he ask you to deliver a reply?” Jessica asked.

  “No. I don’t know if I’ll see him again. I’m not with him. He traded me some food and a radio to deliver this.”

  “Well if you see him again, can you give him my answer?”

  Before Susanna could say anything, Jessica turned, opened the stove, and pushed the unopened letter into the coals. The paper blackened and caught flame. Jessica closed the door to the stove and gave Susanna a defiant look.

  The hard knot that had been wound up inside Susanna eased a little. She reached out a hand and put it on Jessica’s cheek. The girl jerked her head away.

  “Everyone underestimates you, don’t they?” Susanna said. “The poor little girl from the wildlands. But there’s a lot going on behind that pretty face, isn’t there?”

  Jessica’s expression softened. Just then Marcus burst into the room.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, moving to Jessica’s side and putting a defensive arm around her.

  “I, um, I was just finding a sweater for Susanna,” the girl explained.

  Suspicion was replaced with a smile. Susanna was struck by how similar Marcus looked to his wife when he smiled.

  “That’s nice of you!” he turned to Susanna. “You up for a trip?”

  “Where to?” Susanna asked, already knowing the answer but not wanting to put it into words. Marcus did it for her.

  “Back to Weissberg or whatever the hell he calls it. The Doctor wants to make sure. Sorry, but—”

  “But you can’t trust the word of someone who marched with the Righteous Horde.”

  Marcus looked embarrassed.

  “You’ve been kind to me,” Susanna reassured him. “The first real kindness I’ve had in a long time. I’ll do what I can to help you. But I don’t have the strength to walk all the way back there. I got dizzy just getting to the table.”

  Marcus shook his head.

  “You don’t have to walk. We’re going to drive. And we’re leaving right now.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  After a cold night with no fire, and a hasty but anguishing burial of Tanya’s body under a cairn of stones, they hurried on. With them they took all of the Elect’s spare ammo, an AK for Jeb that he didn’t get to carry, and a rifle for Annette.

  The rifle was a good addition. Her shotgun didn’t have the range for this sort of fighting. While it had ruled over Roy’s bar, out in the wildlands it was no match for a rifle or an AK.

  Sadly, the rifle didn’t have a scope and the mount for this rifle didn’t fit the scope she had on her Dakota T-76 Longbow. She was still left with a single bullet with which to take out The Pure One from a distance.

  But that wasn’t what was bothering her. They’d been on foot for less than twelve hours and they’d already lost a member of the party. Annette didn’t know Tanya very well, but she had been a law-abiding resident of the Burbs every winter for several years now. She was also the tracker and guide for this mission.

  Annette wiped away tears and tried not to blame herself for Tanya’s death, but as the leader of this posse, Tanya’s death was her responsibility.

  The best thing you can do for her is to complete the mission, Annette told herself, and felt her uncertainty drain away.

  Yeah, be cold, be calculating, be all the things you hated about yourself when you were a scavenger out in this fucking place.

  Annette gritted her teeth and shoved those thoughts aside. Introspection and self-blame got you nowhere in the wildlands.

  They had spread out in a line, heading south in the hope of finding the tracks of any survivors from the previous night’s firefight. Nguyen was pretty sure he saw someone get away, and that seriously worried Annette. Taking out The Pure One would be hard enough even if he wasn’t prepared. If he did know they were coming it would be impossible.

  They’d walked half the morning and hadn’t found any tracks. This was just as Annette worried it would be. Tanya might have found tracks, but she lay under a cairn a few miles back.

  Annette spotted a rocky hill a mile off to the east.

  “Let’s get on top of that and check out the area,” she called to the others.

  When they got back together Nguyen said, “They could have a sentry up there.”

  Annette shrugged. “Then we should take him out. We’ll go up the hill in two groups from opposite sides. Jeb, you’re with me, and no, you don’t get your AK until we’re under fire so don’t ask.”

  The machete man grinned at her. Then she noticed that his blanket was rolled up strangely. It looked too thick.

  “Hey, what’s that in there?” she demanded.

  “Oh this?” he grabbed the bedroll. Annette and Christina raised their rifles.

  “Damn, you chicks are fucking paranoid,” he snorted, dropping the blanket. It fell open and Annette saw the branch inside.

  “For the bat,” Jeb explained. “You left it in the four-by-four. I guess it could have gone back with Rachel but I figured it would be better for you to give it to him yourself.”

  Annette cocked her head. Was he sucking up or trying to make good? As much as she fit the description “paranoid chick,” as this guy so eloquently put it, she couldn’t help but feel that he really did want to give Pablo a present.

  And why not? When was the last time he got to he got to play with a child?

  And when was the last time Pablo got attention from a man who was the right age to be his father?

  Annette glanced at the hill.

  Mission.

  “Stow that and let’s go,” she told him.

  They took the hill from two sides and found it unoccupied. Once on top, Annette pulled out her sniper’s rifle. Jeb let out a low whistle. Annette looked at him.

  “That was for the rifle,” he said. “Um, not that you’re not, ah, never mind.”

  Annette shook her head and looked through the scope. She did a slow scan of the area.

  After a minute she saw what she feared—a lone figure more than a mile ahead of them, making good time across the plain.

  “There he is,” she said.

  Nguyen raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes and spotted him too.

  “Good, there’s only one. Let’s see what that gun of yours can do.”

  Annette felt herself blush.

  “Best to save my shots for The Pure One.”

  “But if he gets away you won’t have that chance,” Nguyen protested.

  “If we hurry we can catch him.”

  “But—”

  “Decision made. Let’s go.”

  Annette tried not to look at them as she put away her rifle. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see them staring. Without another word she hustled them down the far side of the hill and headed after the retreating figure.

  It took them until past noon before they caught up with him, and they caught up with him at the best possible place—a flat, open stretch of sandy soil almost devoid of vegetation.

  He saw them coming and put on speed. The posse paced him, Jeb trailing behind and looking tired.

  Must be still be a bit weak from lack of food,Annette thought.Looks like this asshole up ahead is too.

  After another ten
minutes, in which they closed the distance to about a thousand yards, their quarry must have realized he wasn’t going to make it to safety. Abruptly he turned and fired a single shot from his AK-47.

  Everyone ducked. The shot went wide.

  Annette held the looted rifle. As the Elect member squeezed off another shot, she stood. He was a young man, perhaps in his early twenties, with a thin face that even at this distance shone visibly with sweat. Annette couldn’t see his expression but his whole body language spoke of panic. He fired again, even though he had little chance of hitting at that range.

  The bullet hummed by, not far off. Annette’s estimation of this guy’s aim went up a notch. It also reminded her that they were well within the AK’s lethal range.

  Annette let her breath out slowly. There was no wind. She aimed for the center of his chest.

  “Sorry. You’re a danger,” she whispered.

  She fired. As the rifle bucked she saw a flare of red.

  “Damn,” Jeb’s voice said behind her.

  Annette checked that the target was down before turning to Jeb. He was standing bent, hands on knees, trying to catch his breath.

  “You OK?” she asked.

  “Takes a while to recover from starvation. Let’s check him out.”

  They advanced cautiously. The rest of the group spread out to either flank. As they drew near they saw he had a chest wound but was still moving.

  Jeb leapt forward, pulling the branch out of his backpack and raising it over his head.

  “Wait!” Annette shouted.

  Jeb swung down, connecting with the man’s forehead just as he struggled to his elbows. The man smacked back to the ground. Jeb hit him again, and a third time until everyone heard the skull crack.

  “Damn it, I wanted to question him!” Annette shouted.

  Jeb turned to her, red-faced and panting. He struggled to regain his composure and said, “Um, sorry. I was afraid he was going to grab his gun.”

  “There was no danger of that,” Annette said.

  “You didn’t have to be a slave for these guys. I saw him and saw red.”

  “He could have given us valuable information,” Annette said. She didn’t like seeing helpless people killed, even when they were a threat.