Nguyen said, “The guy was a fanatic. He would have just lied to us anyway.”
Jeb turned to him and nodded. “Yeah, a fanatic. No need to question any of them.”
Annette shrugged. As she looked around she discovered that this dead man had told them everything they needed to know—his tracks led to a wide band of footprints left by a large group that had passed this way heading south. Annette crouched down and examined the footprints. They were less than a day ahead.
Annette turned to Jeb. “Moving south, just as you said they would.”
He nodded. “Headed towards the southern city.”
Sliding another cartridge into her rifle, she stood and looked at the rest of the group—so few against so many.
“Let’s go. Tonight is The Pure One’s last night on earth.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Jeb had a horrible feeling this was all going to end badly. Annette’s refusal to take that member of the Elect out with her sniper’s rifle led to only one explanation—she was short on ammo. A lot of the rare models had ammo trouble. Nguyen was probably getting short too, despite what he said.
And they were short one gun now, thanks to that ambush.
That was a shame. Tanya seemed like a cool chick, not as hot as Annette but probably a good one to guard your back. Just bad luck that she got killed with the first shot.
So now there were four of them plus him, against at least a couple of hundred gunmen who weren’t dumb enough to think they were safe. It wouldn’t be long before they realized their scouting party wasn’t coming back, and then they’d send out a bigger one or, if The Pure One was even more paranoid than he had been when Jeb had ditched that crew, the whole force might turn around and coming looking for them. In that case five guns wouldn’t last long.
He realized he still had all his options open to him.
Option 1: Bug out at nightfall. He had a pack of food and some basics like a blanket and firestarter. He could survive. In fact, he could go back to where they had cached those weapons and take them. There was no ammo but a quick trade would get him some. He could make a new start.
Option 2: Bug out at nightfall and turn these people over to The Pure One.
Option 3: Go on with this group.
He surprised himself by not really considering Option 2. It had come to him by reflex, and he had dismissed it almost by reflex as well. Why?
It wasn’t only because he didn’t want to join forces with those maniacs again. No, he just couldn’t stab these people in the back. He didn’t want to see Charley and Nguyen crucified because of him, and he sure as hell didn’t want to see Annette and Christina dragged off to the bodyguard’s camp. Of course those two wouldn’t let that happen. They’d go down fighting, but he didn’t want to see them dead either. Not even Christina, the suspicious bitch.
No, he may not be on the side of New City and the Burbs, but he wasn’t against them anymore.
That left Options 1 and 3. Option 1 was the safest, but that little show he put on about being tired wasn’t all show. He’d been run ragged these past couple of months with damn little food to keep him going. Option 3 would lead to a firefight, and what if they got a prisoner like Annette wanted? It could be someone who recognized him. Good thing he smacked down Billy Sanders with the branch before that motherfucker saw who he was.
You want to live to a hundred? Option 1, buddy.
Still, to lose New City. . .
You don’t have New City.
There’s always a chance. Hell, why not the Burbs? A job, friends, maybe a woman, someone who actually wanted him. A dry place to live, no fighting.
Baseball.
Both options were on the table. He’d just have to see how things shaped up.
They made slow progress that afternoon, keeping to rough terrain and as much cover as they could find. The trail was obvious to anyone, though, and they had no trouble following it.
Dusk found them in a little hollow where they could light a fire without it being seen. Nguyen was on first watch, lying on top of a flat rock that overlooked the hollow. They wouldn’t be caught by surprise again.
As they warmed up some corn cakes and ate their rations of pemmican, Jeb took the branch out of his pack. He’d picked a good one. The wood was strong with no fissures or knots. It would make a fine bat. He felt disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to present it to Pablo himself.
“Might as well get started on it,” he muttered to himself. Out loud he said, “Hey anyone got a knife I can use? I was to start carving this.”
Annette furrowed her brow. “You’re still going to make a bat with it after braining that guy?”
“I’m shaving that part off.”
Annette snorted.
“Come on, lend me a knife. If I make a wrong move Christina will shoot me.”
“Damn right I will,” Christina said from the opposite side of the fire. She drew her pistol and held it as she ate one-handed. “But I don’t think you’ll cause trouble.”
Jeb grinned at her. “Yeah, and you’re keeping that gun out all the same.”
Christina grinned back.
Annette stepped over to him and handed him a knife. Jeb blinked it surprise. It was Leonard’s clasp knife.
“You stopped this from being planted in my back,” Annette said. “I figure you won’t put it there yourself. Keep it. No one should be in the wildlands without a knife.”
Christina shot Annette a concerned look but said nothing.
Jeb set to work. First he shaved off all the bark and gave the bare wood a thorough examination by the light of the fire. Yes, this was good wood. It would make a real cracker. He started shaving off more, turning it in his hands to keep the cuttings even.
He noticed Annette watching him.
“You look like you know what you’re doing,” she said.
Jeb nodded. “My dad taught me how to make them. Every kid in our settlement had one. I’m surprised no one is making them in New City.”
“I guess no one knows how.”
“Hey, you know how to make vehicles run and how to keep your kids safe. That’s more than we figured out.”
Jeb shaved another long strip off the wood. Leonard had kept a keen edge on his knife and it cut well.
“But you’re not going to have time to finish it,” Annette said.
Sadness dampened him. He looked down at the bat.
“No,” he said in a soft voice, “but I’ll make a good start. Someone back in New City can do the rest. Rachel and her husband, whatshisname, they have a machine shop. I bet they got a lathe in there. They can finish it in no time. I’ll leave you some instructions.”
Annette fell silent. For a time the only noise was the crackling of the fire and the softsssht of his knife whittling wood. A calm came over him, something akin to peace. It had been a long time since he’d sat by a campfire whittling. He and Dad always used to do that together after a day’s work in the field. They made handles for tools and kitchen implements and furniture and all sorts of stuff. Dad had shown him how to find the best trees and cut with the grain and how to bring out the form hidden inside the wood.
That all ended when the bandits came. He’d only been twelve at the time, old enough that he thought he could help defend the settlement. When Dad grabbed the old shotgun they had, Jeb had grabbed an axe and together they joined the others as the bandits poured into their hamlet.
It was all over in a few minutes. Jeb was hit over the head with the butt of a rifle and knocked unconscious. When he came everyone was either dead or, in the case of some of the women, missing.
And so he gathered up a few things the bandits left behind and headed into the wildlands.
Jeb bit his lip. It was a hard world and summoning up bad memories only made it harder. He liked to think about the times before. Although Mom had died of cancer when he was very young, he still had memories of her singing to him by the fireside, and he had all those memories of Dad.
Lif
e had been hell for so goddamn long but at least he had some good times at the beginning. No kid should grow up without some of those memories.
He whittled another strip off the wood.
Nguyen’s voice came out of the darkness. “Hey guys, come up here and look at this.”
Jeb and the others went up to the rock on which Nguyen was keeping watch. As they got there Jeb realized he had taken the knife with him and no one had objected.
He and everyone else immediately saw why Nguyen called them up there.
In the distance there was a red glow of a large fire. Not the diffuse glow of many campfires, but the hard glare of burning buildings.
The Righteous Horde had found a settlement.
Jeb’s stomach turned. He sat slumped down on the rock by Nguyen.
Annette looked through the scope of her Dakota.
“A few buildings, not many miles off,” she reported.
“We got to save them,” Jeb said, realizing how stupid his words sounded as soon as he said them. Visions of what was going on flashed before his eyes. He tried not to think about how much he had participated in so many scenes like those.
“Save them? There’s no way we can save them,” Charley said. “They’re probably all dead already.”
“What I don’t get is why they’re burning the buildings,” Annette said. “Nobody burns shelter.”
Jeb shook his head. “We, I mean, they never did that on the march. Only with that village on Toxic Bay because it was unclean.”
“Maybe these folks were living on some unclean land?” Nguyen suggested. “That would fit in with The Pure One’s ideas of cleansing the Earth.”
Jeb shook his head again. “Look around. There’s plenty of good land. No need to live near any chemical spills. No, he’s making an example. He’s gotten crazier. The defeat, the coup we tried to pull, and who knows what else since then. The guy’s paranoid. No telling what he’ll do next.”
Annette shouldered her rifle. “He won’t get to do anything next. Everybody get ready to march. We’ll set up near their camp and take him out at dawn.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The landscape rolled by outside the Hummer’s window. Despite her fatigue Susanna’s body felt alive with the thrill of moving so fast. She had never dreamed she would ever get to ride in a functioning vehicle. They were retracing her steps through the toxic wasteland north of New City, and in just an hour had eaten up more than what she had walked in her last agonizing day.
The Humvee was driven by a kind-faced man named Kevin, who had pulled up right in front of Marcus’ house so she could be bustled inside without anyone seeing. The windows were tinted, so once the doors were closed there was no chance of any of the members of the Merchants Association who remained in New City spotting a stranger riding in one of the settlement’s precious vehicles.
With her came Marcus and the two guards--Conrad and Spiegelman. All four men were decked out in Kevlar and carried automatic weapons. Marcus kept shifting in his seat like the body armor made him uncomfortable. The other three didn’t seem to mind their gear. Susanna felt small in her tattered clothing next to these well-fed men, but to her surprise she no longer felt weak. She’d left that feeling behind in the wildlands.
“So what are you going to do once you see I’m telling the truth?” Susanna asked Marcus.
Now the assistant mayor looked even more uncomfortable.
“That’s for The Doctor to decide.”
“I guess he’s too sick to come along.”
“He’s not sick,” Marcus said, too quickly, “He’s just worn out, plus he got shot in the attack and ended up getting the flu.”
He’s sick. It’s obvious. I wonder what he has?
They continued on in silence for a time. Kevin had to be careful to avoid rocks and old walls and the occasional jagged bit of metal or glass sticking out of the ground. There had obviously been settlements here in the Old Times.
Susanna shook her head. How could the people back then have poisoned their own homes? People never learned. Wasn’t Abe poisoning his own home by leaving behind New City and causing a rift where there didn’t need to be one?
“You recognizing any of this?” Marcus asked.
“I was pretty sick, plus I was walking through that storm, but yes, this looks like where I was.”
“Keep an eye on the foothills,” Kevin called from the driver’s seat. “Those are the best guide.”
Susanna nodded, nibbling on some muffins Rosie had packed for her. Kevin was right, some of those foothills did look familiar.
“Wait, stop the vehicle,” she said.
Kevin did as she asked and she got out. She stared at the hills and the mountains beyond them for a moment and then pointed.
“See that line of rounded hills just in front of the jagged peak? Weissberg is a little to the north of those.”
“They didn’t run very far to find a hiding place,” Kevin said.
“It’s far enough if you have to walk,” Marcus replied. “Besides, look at this place. Not even scavengers would waste their time in a wasteland like this.”
I know one scavenger who does,Susanna thought.I wonder what he was doing out here? Spying on Weissberg?
“Let’s go,” Marcus said.
Spiegelman turned to him and said, “Are we just going to drive up there?”
“Just close enough to see what’s going on, then we’ll turn back.”
Susanna followed Spiegelman’s reasoning and said, “Weissberg is in a valley between two hills, with sentries on both hills. They’ll spot us.”
“So what? We’ll get back days before they can warn their friends.”
“What if they have two-way radios?” asked Conrad. “They own the radio station, who’s to say they can’t radio in?”
“And who’s to say they won’t shoot at us?” Susanna added.
Marcus bit his lip. “Damn, tactics aren’t my thing. We should have brought Clyde along but Doc wanted him at home in case the Merchants Association acted up.”
Conrad turned from the front passenger’s seat and asked Susanna, “So there isn’t any other way into this valley?”
“Not that I saw. We could walk, of course, but I don’t think you want to leave this vehicle.”
“Hell. No.” Kevin said definitively.
“We could park far enough away to be out of sight,” Marcus suggested.
“Then I couldn’t join you. I doubt I could walk a mile without falling over,” Susanna said.
Marcus sighed and rubbed his temples.
“Doc wanted me to see it personally. How about we stop a few miles off and Conrad and I go take a look? We have a portable radio and we can call in for help if we need to.”
No one answered. Susanna wondered why this man, supposedly in charge, was asking them.
“You might get spotted,” Susanna said.
“If we drive up we’ll be spotted for sure,” Marcus said. “Let’s drive to those hills you pointed out. How far away is Weissberg beyond them?”
“Maybe a mile or two.”
“So if we come up on the opposite side of the hills we probably won’t be seen. Kevin, take us there.”
Kevin steered the Hummer inland. He took a long path south to put some distance between them and Weissberg before they got under the cover of the hills. Once they were due south of the hills, Kevin turned north.
The ground grew rougher. As Kevin maneuvered between rocks and gullies, Susanna peered over his shoulder to look out the front window. They were drawing close to the hills now. A light winked on top of one of them.
“What was that?” she asked.
“What?” Kevin asked.
“I thought I saw something on top of one of the hills.”
“What did it—”
Kevin’s sentence was cut off by a metallicclink at the front of the vehicle. A hole sprouted in the hood.
“Damn!” Kevin shouted. Steam issued from the hole.
“Eng
ine trouble?” Marcus asked.
“I think we got shot.”
Dirt off to their left plumed up in a line. Another line cut in front of them.
“Autofire!” Conrad shouted. “Turn around.”
Kevin swerved the vehicle. More steam was billowing from the hood now, and an ominous rattle undercut the noise of the engine.
A hole punched through the door and Marcus cried out, falling over onto Susanna’s lap.
“Get us out of here!” she screamed. “They knew we were coming.”
Kevin gunned it, then ducked as the back window was taken out with another shot.
The Hummer bucked and wove, the dirt all around it erupting with bullet impacts. The rattling in the engine grew louder, the steam turning into black smoke.
“Shit,” Kevin said. “C’mon, baby, just give me a couple more miles.”
Another bullet pinged off the back of the Hummer. Susanna shook Marcus, calling to him. He didn’t respond.
There was a loud bang. The Hummer swerved to the right. Kevin cut hard to the left to compensate and hit a large stone. The vehicle bucked and left the ground, landing on a gravelly stretch that made them swerve and skitter. A boulder loomed ahead of them.
Kevin slammed on the brakes, too late. The last thing Susanna knew was she was flying over the front seat.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The burning settlement lit their way through the wildlands as they moved into position. Even from a couple of miles away the area was illuminated a dim, flickering crimson. They picked their way across the plain, keeping well to one side in order to avoid any far-flung sentries.
Everyone kept silent, thinking about what was happening to those farmers and knowing they were helpless to do anything about it.
Helpless to save them, not helpless to avenge them, Annette reminded herself.
Her heart fluttered with a bad case of nerves. She only had one bullet, one chance to kill The Pure One and end all this.
But it wasn’t just that, because she was remembering another massacre by another roving band of predators, the one that made her an orphan.
Refugees from the Righteous Horde (Toxic World Book 2) Page 23