Refugees from the Righteous Horde (Toxic World Book 2)

by Sean McLachlan

Option 1: Split off and try to get away alone. Chances may be better at hiding or slipping away without them, but if he got caught and needed to shoot his way out he’d need them. The cult would be sending out patrols to either side of the main line, and even though he had the AK he couldn’t take out a whole patrol.

  Option 2: Turn the New City posse in.

  No.

  No?

  No.

  The Pure One wasn’t in a talking mood anyway.

  Option 3: Stick.

  Aw, crap.

  Jeb hurried to keep up as the posse ran across the plain.

  It was a weird, surreal chase, a chase that appeared to take place in slow motion. Although they and their pursuers were running as fast as they could, on the nearly featureless plains it looked like they weren’t making any headway. The Righteous Horde neither gained ground nor lagged behind, and the mountains that were everyone’s goal seemed no closer.

  Eventually their sprint slowed to a jog, and then into a brisk walk. Despite the sharp winter air everyone dripped with sweat. Jeb’s canteen was nearly empty. He kept looking over his shoulder. The crowd behind them looked no closer than it had an hour ago.

  Jeb found the strength to speak. “How did he stop the bullet?”

  Annette shook her head, her face red and dripping with sweat. “I don’t know.”

  “You missed,” Christina gasped. “And why the hell didn’t you tell us you only had one bullet?”

  “I didn’t miss,” Annette said.

  “Of course you did.”

  “I didn’t miss.”

  “I was watching through the binoculars,” Jeb said. “There was a flash of blue light all around The Pure One. He flinched but the bullet didn’t hurt him. She hit. Something stopped it.”

  No one replied. Jeb gulped for air. Even that short speech caught him out of breath.

  Oh fuck, I’m not going to be able to keep up with these guys for much longer.

  I should peel off now.

  And do what? Go where?

  They continued on, headed for the pass that stood out clear and agonizingly distant in the morning light. At a low rise they got on their hands and knees and climbed to the top to get a look around. The line of men behind them was about the same distance away as it had been, but Nguyen cried out and pointed to another group that was about half a mile away and between them and the mountain pass.

  “Shit! How did they do that?” Charley moaned.

  “Probably some of the bodyguards. Must be running all out to have gotten that far,” Jeb said.

  “They’re going to cut us off,” Nguyen said. “What do we do?”

  Annette thought for a moment, looking all around her.

  Yeah, I know what you’re looking for,Jeb felt like saying if he had enough air to waste.But there’s no way to slip out of this net. Trust me, I’ve been looking.

  “We punch through,” Annette said.

  Jeb nodded. “We gotta do it quick.”

  Christina looked at the approaching line of men barely a mile away, then back at the group of about ten men cutting them off. “If those guys hold us up for more than a few minutes. . .”

  She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to. Everyone got up and hurried forward, straight at the men in their way.

  It didn’t take long for the bodyguards to see them coming. Jeb saw the distant figures scramble up a cluster of weathered boulders and take position on top and between them. The boulders stood on a low hill and had a commanding view of the area around.

  “Shit,” Jeb said. “We don’t have time to go around. The bodyguards all have rifles or M16s. No way we’ll be able to stay out of range and get around before the rest of the army catches up.”

  As if in response there was a flash from atop one of the boulders and a bullet whined by. Everyone crouched down.

  “Hey, look,” Annette pointed at a dry creek bed that snaked along the plain not far from the boulders. She turned to Nguyen and got a grin in response.

  “Looks like it’s time to break out the surprise,” he said, and opened up the satchel at his side.

  When he pulled out a rifle grenade Jeb felt like it was Christmas.

  “Nguyen, you are my new best friend,” Jeb laughed. “I’ll cover you.”

  “We’ll all cover him,” Annette said. “No time for flanking them, we get as close as we can, blast those motherfuckers, and run like hell for the pass.”

  They ran low for the creek bed, a few bullets passing by. They were still too far away for the men on the rock to get a good shot. By the time they drew close enough, they made it into a thicket by the side of the wash and got down into the dry, sandy bed.

  The creek meandered across the plain. Jeb remembered that at the third turn it got close to the rocks.

  “They must have seen us,” Jeb whispered. “What if they send some guys down in here?”

  “They don’t need to,” Annette whispered back as she crawled next to him. “They’re thinking all they have to do is wait for us to show ourselves and then pick us off. They don’t know we have a grenade launcher.”

  Jeb nodded. This chick was smart. Not bad looking too. Pity he’d never get a chance to make a play.

  What the hell are you thinking about her for at a time like this? If you want to make it to be a hundred, buddy, you need to focus.

  They made it to the third bend. Nguyen shucked off his pack and readied his grenade launcher. Jeb looked nervously at the small size of his satchel. It didn’t look like he had more than two extra grenades in there. Everyone spread out on both sides.

  “OK,” Nguyen said, an eager light in his eyes. “On the count of three, rise up and give me cover fire and I’ll blast those guys right off the rocks. This is something to tell your grandkids about.”

  “One. . .”

  Jeb switched his AK-47 to semiautomatic.

  “Two. . .”

  You should find something to cure that bat with. Kid’s liable to leave it out in the rain.

  Focus!

  “Three!”

  Jeb stood up and fired a pair of bursts at the rocks. The rest of their line erupted in shots. The dark figures atop the rocks ducked down. One flailed like a fish caught on a line and rolled off the side to land hard on the ground beneath.

  With a hollowthunk Nguyen’s grenade sailed over the intervening space and landed with a clatter on the boulders.

  For a long moment there was silence, and then The Pure One’s bodyguards rose up and started firing.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Susanna woke up to the sound of gunfire and Kevin shouting.

  She opened bleary eyes and tried to blink away some sticky liquid that was in them. She wiped her eyes and looked at her hand.

  Blood.

  A wave of pain and nausea washed over her. She squeezed her eyes shut. The sickness in her stomach passed, but the pain in her head remained as an agonizing throb, flaring white-hot with the sharp sound of each gunshot.

  Susanna opened her eyes again and discovered she was now in the front passenger’s seat with her head down where her feet should be. The crash must have thrown her here and she knocked her head against the dashboard. She realized that if she had flown out the window, she’d be dead now.

  Kevin’s shouting caught her attention. He was still in the driver’s seat, yelling into the radio.

  “Weissberg is real! We’re under attack!”

  Susanna turned herself right side up and nearly vomited as her head spun. Marcus lay motionless across the back seat. Conrad and Spiegelman had taken position outside behind a pair of rocks and were firing into the distance.

  A crackled message came over the radio but Susanna didn’t hear what was said. She reached into the back seat and shook Marcus. He didn’t have any blood on him. The older man groaned and moved a little. Susanna saw a dent in his helmet. The bullet must have hit it and the impact knocked him out. Susanna felt a wave of relief to see this good man was alive.

  Maybe not
for long. A murderous return fire came at Conrad and Spiegelman, forcing them to curl up behind some rocks for safety as bullets chipped away at the edges. Conrad crawled back to the vehicle.

  “They’re flanking us! Can’t you get this thing moving?” he asked Kevin.

  The driver shook his head. “Bullet straight through the cooling pump and probably took out a few other things besides. We’re not going anywhere.”

  Conrad’s eyes went wide. “Can’t we get some help?”

  Before Kevin could answer, bullets clanked off the hood of the vehicle and shattered one of the side windows. Everyone got down.

  Then the firing stopped, followed by a pregnant silence.

  “We got you surrounded,” someone shouted from the distance. “Come on out with your hands up and you won’t be killed!”

  Susanna recognized the voice.

  Derren.

  No. I won’t go back there.

  Susanna looked around the vehicle, hoping to find a place to hide but seeing none. Kevin had already stepped out, hands above his head. Conrad stood next to him. Spiegelman was probably giving up too. She didn’t care. She wasn’t going to fall into their hands again.

  She spotted a pistol on Marcus’ belt. Easing into the back seat, staying low so she couldn’t be seen from the window, she got down on the floor next to Marcus.

  “Is that all of you?” Derren called, closer this time.

  “Marcus is in the back seat,” Kevin called back. “I think you killed him you bastard.”

  Susanna unbuttoned the holster and slid the pistol out. It was the kind they called an automatic. It felt bulky and heavy in her hands.

  “Anyone else in there?” Derren called. His voice carried a trace of worry at the news that Marcus was hit.

  “Yeah, one more,” Kevin turned to the vehicle. “Susanna, come on out. It’s over.”

  She knew there was a switch called a safety that you had to turn to make it able to fire. After a moment she found it and turned it.

  “What name did you say? Susanna?” Derren shouted.

  There was the sound of running feet approaching fast.

  Susanna held the gun up to her head. She began to squeeze the trigger. . .

  . . .and stopped.

  No. That’s being a victim too. I’m not a victim anymore.

  Derren’s face appeared at the window. On instinct she pointed the gun at his face. Derren froze, eyes wide.

  “Bang, you’re dead,” Susanna said, and placed the pistol on the seat.

  Derren gaped for a second before his mouth twisted into a snarl. He tore open the door and hauled her out. Susanna reeled as he struck her across the face. The next thing she knew she was lying on the ground. Derren raised his M16 and pointed it at her head.

  “What, you going to kill her after you promised us our lives?” Kevin shouted.

  “She doesn’t count,” Derren growled.

  “And then what?” Kevin demanded, his hands still above his head. “Kill the rest of us too? We already radioed in that we were surrendering. You kill us it will be war. You want to start the City State Wars again, you dumb fuck?”

  Derren snarled and turned on Kevin, leveling his gun. The driver took a step back, face turning white.

  “Derren, don’t, Abe is coming!” one of the other Weissberg guards shouted. Susanna saw about twenty of them surrounding the vehicle.

  Another crowd of people approached from the distance. Derren went back to the vehicle and checked on Marcus.

  “He’s alive,” he said with obvious relief.

  The guards searched everyone and by the time the second group made it to them, Susanna and the others had been lined up by the vehicle and stripped of all their belongings and Kevlar. Marcus sat on the ground, holding his head and only able to give monosyllabic replies to questions.

  Abraham Weissman strode up. He looked at the newcomers with distaste before his eyes settled on Susanna.

  “Well, well, well, so this is the thanks I get.”

  Susanna didn’t bother to reply.

  Kevin took a step forward, and was halted by an array of guns. “How did you know we were coming?”

  Abe shrugged. “I do own a radio station and far more radio equipment than you idiots give me credit for.”

  “You don’t own that station anymore,” Conrad sneered. “The Doctor’s going to confiscate everything the Merchant Association’s got.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Abe smiled, walking over to Marcus.

  The assistant mayor looked up at him, managed to focus, and said, “You won’t get away with this, Abe.”

  Abe laughed. “I already have! Not only have I gotten most of the key people and equipment out while you numbskulls were worried about some ridiculous elections in the Burbs, but I have you. The Doctor will trade a lot for you.”

  “But why, Abe?” Marcus said, struggling to his feet. “New City is the best thing going. Electricity, man, you’ve given up electricity. Don’t tell me you got solar panels over there because I don’t believe it. And the city wall, and shops, and. . .”

  “We can make all that here. We’ve already started. Besides, I’m sure I can get a solar panel or two in trade for you.”

  “But why leave?”

  Abe sneered. “Because The Doctor is weak, weak in more than one way. He’s soft on the scavengers, allows that festering slum to thrive right outside the gate, he gives away irreplaceable medicine for free. And worse, he’s dying of AIDS. Oh, not that I wouldn’t mind attending his funeral, but then you’ll be in charge and Lord help us all!”

  Abe shook his head.

  “You know, at first I thought of having a coup, then I realized the Burbs would rise up and help you. No, I couldn’t take command without risking everything, so I decided to start again. You’re one of the founders of New City, you understand the pioneering spirit.”

  Marcus glared. “With New City we created something good, a place where everyone had a chance. That’s not going to be what Weissberg is like.”

  The assistant mayor turned to the assembled crowd.

  “Enough of this. Arrest Abe right now and give yourselves up and there will be amnesty for all of you.”

  No one moved, but Susanna noticed a lot of unsure faces.

  “You want war? You want to be cut off from New City forever?” Marcus asked.

  “That’s enough now, Marcus,” Abe said. “Another word from you and I’ll have you gagged. Come on, let’s take them back to town. And get a crew out here to haul this Hummer back too. Perhaps Kevin can fix it for us.”

  “Not in a million years,” Kevin snapped.

  “You may be staying for that long,” Abe chuckled. He turned to Susanna. “But you won’t. Oh no, you most definitely won’t.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  “Reload! Reload!” Annette screamed as the top of the creek bed exploded with impacts, each bullet spitting up a column of sand and grit. Nguyen fumbled for another grenade as everyone hugged the ground.

  Nguyen snapped the grenade in place and looked to Annette.

  “Wait! Let’s move to the left a few yards. They’re watching this spot,” she said.

  They crawled along the creek for a minute and arranged themselves again. Annette looked around.

  “Everyone ready? One, two, THREE!”

  Annette squeezed off a round with her rifle as Jeb let off a series of bursts next to her. Nguyen fired and everyone hit the dirt as the grenade sailed through the air.

  This time its trajectory ended with a satisfying boom that shook the ground.

  Annette peeked over the lip of the creek bed. The top of the boulders was hazy with smoke. She saw two bodies and part of a third.

  “Forward!” she shouted, barely able to hear herself over the ringing in her ears.

  They hurried through the bushes, spreading out and keeping low, looking for survivors. As the smoke cleared, one man staggered down through the boulders, face bloody, eyes wild and stunned. Jeb gave
him a three-round burst that tore open his chest and slammed him against the rock face.

  Another survivor cut to the right, firing wildly with his M16. Annette took him out with a single shot.

  They were almost to the rocks now. Annette peered through the haze and the greenery, looking for movement.

  Just then an explosion knocked her off her feet. She landed hard on her back, the pain in her neck from the car crash coming back tenfold. A rock hit her chest and took the wind out of her.

  Coughing and wiping dust from their faces, the posse picked themselves up. Nguyen looked around apologetically.

  “Looks like the first one wasn’t so faulty after all,” he said, giving them a white grin from behind a grimy face.

  “Those things are damn powerful,” Jeb said, coughing. “No one survived that. Let’s get moving. How many you got left?”

  “One,” Nguyen said as they hurried past the rocks and towards the pass.

  Once they’d run for a while they stopped on a high point and looked around. The line of men was still following them, but they had lost some distance.

  “Tired?” Annette wondered aloud.

  “Probably got spooked by those explosions and The Pure One had to rally them,” Jeb said. “They’ll keep coming.”

  The chase across the plains continued as the sun rose overhead and slowly sank to the west. Their pursuers never gained, never flagged, just kept on behind them in a broad line. For most of the day both sides were clearly visible to one another, and even if they weren’t it didn’t matter. There was only one place to go, only one place that offered safety—through the South Pass and back into New City territory.

  But New City was days away. In that time anything could happen. What if another detachment of bodyguards was able to get in front of them? What if there was more bad weather or a new avalanche that slowed them down? What if there was another patrol lurking around like the one that killed Tanya?

  Annette was all out of ideas. Run, was the only thing she could think to do. Run and keep running.

  And that’s what they did, all through that long day and into the dusk. At times they slackened to a fast walk, and once they stopped for a luxurious five minutes by a stream as they refilled their canteens and ate a hasty lunch.