The Day After Never - Covenant (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 3)

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The Day After Never - Covenant (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 3) Page 6

by Russell Blake


  “No. He’s been bit. We have to get him help,” Sierra protested.

  “We’re not riding at night. Terrain’s too treacherous, and it’s a long way. If he’s going to die, he’s going to die out here. Nothing they can do for him on the reservation either.” He paused. “We’ll make camp. He should sleep sitting up so it slows the venom to his heart. Other than that, he’s in God’s hands. Welcome to Apache country.”

  The leader turned and strode away as his men collected the weapons and carried them to the horses. They packed them into their saddlebags and then prepared a primitive camp. They allowed Lucas to pitch tents for the women and one for himself. Lucas worked efficiently and finished by setting his saddlebags on the ground so Colt had something to lean against while he dozed.

  The sun was sinking into the western mountains when the leader allowed Lucas to distribute food and water to his group. Colt waved off food until Lucas forced him to eat.

  “The more you have in your system to soak up the poison, the better. Flush it out. Plenty of food and water’s the best we can do for you, so take advantage of it,” Lucas advised.

  Colt glumly chewed his portion. Sierra slid closer to Lucas and whispered to him, “What are we going to do? Try to escape?”

  Lucas shook his head. “No. Colt’s people paid for safe passage. This will all get straightened out tomorrow. Don’t do anything stupid, and we’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Lucas lowered his voice further. “Sierra, listen to me. There’s no place to escape to. This is their land – there’s no way we would make it far, especially with Colt. All of which assumes we could get our weapons back and overpower them, which isn’t going to happen.”

  “I just feel so powerless.”

  “Sometimes you have to go with the flow, Sierra,” Ruby cautioned. “Lucas is right. We need to stick together, do as they say, and figure it out at their headquarters. Anything else could get us all killed.”

  “I know you’re right. I just don’t like it.”

  Lucas put his arm around her and squeezed her to him. “I know. Nobody does. Just concentrate on taking care of Eve, get some sleep, and tomorrow will be a new day.”

  “Now I’m worried about snakes, too.”

  “Zip up your tent and you’ll be fine,” Colt said.

  One of the men rose with his gun and began a slow walking patrol as darkness fell. Another sat directly across from them, the gun in his hands a reminder that they were prisoners until they accounted for themselves to the Apache leader. Lucas squeezed Sierra’s arm again and she kissed his cheek before gathering Eve and escorting her to their tent.

  Ruby watched them go and stood. “I’m calling it a night. Colt, holler if you need anything.”

  “Thanks. I will.”

  Lucas joined her and walked her to her tent. “Think Sierra will be okay?” he whispered.

  “She’s headstrong, but I think you got through to her. I’ll keep an ear peeled, just in case.” She paused. “Colt doesn’t look so good.”

  “No. He doesn’t,” Lucas agreed. “I’ll say a prayer for him tonight.”

  “I will too,” Ruby said with a smile. “And I’ll add in a request for no more snakes.”

  “If you’re taking requests…”

  “Good night, Lucas.”

  He took a last glance at Colt, who was shivering slightly while doing his best not to show it, and shook his head. “I hope so, Ruby.”

  Chapter 12

  Cano adjusted his saddle straps and inspected his horse as the rest of his men did the same. They’d spent the night outside of town near the truck stop, having been delayed by their new men, who had to barter with Tucker for supplies for their trip. He’d been furious that identifying the dead men, communicating with Magnus by radio, and finding mercenaries had eaten up an entire day, keenly aware that his quarry was now two days ahead of him.

  Morning had broken a half hour earlier, a distant rooster announcing sunrise, and Cano pushed the group to eat and prepare for a long slog. He didn’t have much hope of picking up tracks after the storm, but he knew that if they’d hired a guide to get through Apache territory, the next outpost was Albuquerque, and they would ride as hard as they could to make up for lost time.

  “I want to get sixty miles under our belts today. We’ll go till dark,” he announced, and the new men nodded as though the astronomical distance were reasonable. They’d been happy to get their gold the night before, with the promise of more when the job was done, and would have followed Cano into hell.

  As they rode past the skeletons of looted and burned buildings, Cano wondered if that wasn’t where he was leading them, the sun already blazing hot as it rose over the eastern desert. They crossed the freeway intersection, the huge overpasses a reminder of a time that seemed impossibly distant, rusting cars mute witness to their passage. Once north of the highway crossing they followed the road, sticking to the dirt shoulder for their animals’ sake, where the going was relatively easy for the first few hours.

  The heat of the day intensified, and they had to stop more than Cano would have liked to water the horses. At one of the pauses he overheard Luis talking to the new recruits, explaining their quest in more detail. Cano interrupted their powwow by calling to him.

  “Luis, get over here. Now.”

  Luis stopped what he was doing and trotted to where Cano was seated. The big man glowered at him.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

  “I was telling them what to expect and what we’re after.”

  “Did I ask you to?”

  “No, but–”

  “Luis, listen closely. Don’t volunteer anything. Don’t tell them anything more than you have. If they ask questions, refer them to me. Clear?”

  Luis struggled to maintain his composure. “I thought–”

  Cano cut him off. “Don’t talk to them about anything more than the weather. Period. They’re not your new friends, and they aren’t long-lost relatives. They’re hired muscle, nothing more. So shut it.”

  Luis nodded slowly, his face a blank. Cano recognized the thousand-yard stare. Luis had retreated inward to a place Cano couldn’t get to, and had tuned everything out. Cano had done the same many times while behind bars – it was a survival skill you learned when dealing with authority. In the joint, if you gave a hint of rebellion to the guards, they’d beat you to a pulp and you’d spend a month pissing blood. So you mastered the blank stare. Luis was getting more practice on this trip. Cano didn’t care.

  “Now get out of here. You’re breathing my air.”

  Luis turned wordlessly and made his way to his horse. Cano sneered at his back, and one of the Crew gunmen saw him and smiled. They’d noted the way Cano was treating the Loco and would follow their master’s lead.

  Cano had already decided he would kill Luis once his usefulness had passed. The man had a rebellious streak he didn’t like, and he suspected he wouldn’t be a strong ally if left alone in Pecos once this episode was over. Cano would need someone more pliant, someone who didn’t hold delusions of his own importance. He didn’t care who, but he knew that an uppity punk like Luis was trouble waiting to happen, and could feel the hate radiating from him whenever they interacted.

  Cano lurched to his feet and walked a few yards away. He unzipped his fly and urinated on the hot sand, thinking about his next move. He’d informed Magnus about their likely trajectory, with Albuquerque the next stop, but other than a dismissive assurance that Magnus would take care of things, that had been all the feedback he’d received.

  Which concerned him. He knew his master, and he didn’t want the same fate that had been ordered for Garret. The only reason he wasn’t more worried was that he also knew that while Magnus was mercurial and volatile, he forgot quickly. A success in locating the woman and child would be all he remembered – the setbacks along the way ignored once the result had been achieved.

  Cano finished his task and retu
rned to the horses. His instinct was to push them until they dropped, but attempting to cross the desert without the animals to carry them would be a death sentence, so he had to temper his impatience so as not to drive them into the ground.

  “Party time’s over. Mount up,” he called, listening for any signs of objection or complaint. There were none, which gladdened him. Like all leaders who ruled by force, his senses were tuned to detect even a hint of rebellion and quash it instantly. He’d learned that early in life, running his drug gang on the streets of Houston, and later, in prison. Watching Magnus had reinforced the importance of meeting any challenge with immediate, overwhelming force.

  But there was none today. The men were happy for the opportunity to earn a small fortune.

  “Quincy, you take point. See if you can spot anything,” Cano barked, once they were all in the saddle. The big man spurred his horse forward and made for the road, where heat shimmered off the gray pavement in serpentine waves. The odds of finding anything on the endless stretch of gravel shoulder was less than zero, but Cano’s order was one that must be obeyed.

  Chapter 13

  Lucas was roused from a surface sleep by the sound of Ruby’s voice from outside his tent. He cracked one eye open and reached for the entry flap zipper. The lack of light shining through the fabric told him it was still night. He opened the flap and looked out at her.

  “What is it?”

  “Colt doesn’t look good.”

  He checked the time. It would be dawn in twenty minutes. He forced himself awake, pulled on his boots, and exited the tent, hat in hand. Ruby led him to where Colt was sitting, teeth chattering.

  “How you doing, partner?” Lucas asked.

  “Been better.”

  Ruby felt Colt’s forehead and looked at Lucas in alarm. “He’s burning up.”

  “When did you last drink some water?” Lucas asked.

  “Been a while.”

  Lucas glanced at the guard, who was watching him without interest, and moved to his saddlebags for a canteen. He held it out, a modest but vital offering, and then waited as Colt drained the container.

  Lucas took it from him. “Soon as the sun’s up, we’ll get a peek at the bite and see if anything’s changed.”

  “Feels pretty swollen,” Colt said.

  Ruby ran a hand lightly over the pressure bandage. “That’s to be expected.”

  “Is he going to be able to ride?” Lucas asked.

  “Hell yes, I will,” Colt snapped. “No way you’re leaving me out here.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant. I was thinking we might have to rig something…”

  “Get me into the saddle, and I’ll do the rest. It’ll take my mind off dying.”

  “If that was going to happen, it would have by now,” Lucas countered.

  The camp roused to life as the sun rose. When Sierra and Lucas removed the dressing, the news wasn’t good. The area around the bite was purple and red, with bluish discoloration following Colt’s veins. The leader of the Apaches walked over and glanced at the wound.

  “You’re lucky it wasn’t a diamondback. You might make it.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t?” Lucas asked.

  “I’ve seen their bite. That looks like you didn’t get a whole lot of venom, so you’re lucky. Believe me, it can be a whole lot worse. I’ve seen skin split from the knee to the ankle and the flesh looking like someone poured acid on it. Required amputation.”

  “Not feeling particularly lucky,” Colt said.

  “You’ll live,” the leader said, and turned to Lucas. “Break down the tents and pack them. We mount up in ten minutes.”

  Once they were on the trail, Colt seemed to do better, and the time passed uneventfully as their surroundings became an inferno. Seven hours after they’d mounted up, a string of low buildings came into view, and the leader twisted toward them.

  “Won’t be long now.”

  He’d radioed ahead earlier, and a welcoming committee of several dozen armed men was waiting for their arrival. They dismounted, and three of the younger braves led the horses to a water trough in the shade of an overhang.

  An older man pushed through the throng and looked down at Colt. “You the one that got bit?”

  “That’s right,” Colt managed.

  “Let’s have a look at it, then.”

  Sierra removed the dressing, and the man knelt beside Colt and inspected the wound. He took Colt’s pulse, felt his head, and then pulled a stethoscope from his satchel and listened to his heart.

  Finished, he stood. “Going to need antibiotics, or you could lose the leg.”

  “Do you have any?” Ruby asked.

  “None we can spare. But they should have some in Albuquerque.”

  “That’s, what, a couple days’ ride?” Lucas asked.

  “About that.”

  “Will that be soon enough?”

  The man looked at Colt and then at Lucas. “Sixty-forty his favor.” He draped the stethoscope over his shoulder. “I’m Ben. I run this place. What happened to Frank?”

  Lucas repeated Colt’s story about the shooting.

  Ben grunted when he was through. “Can’t see someone getting the jump on Frank.”

  “Apparently he met his match.”

  “Too bad. He was one of the good ones.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Ruby said.

  Ben nodded. “Now I have to figure out what to do with you.”

  “What do you mean? We’re paid up,” Colt said.

  “True. But you need a guide to get the rest of the way. So you’re going to have to pay for another one. Your passage is covered, not a new guide. Sorry.”

  “How much?”

  “Thirty ounces of gold.”

  “What! That’s outrageous!” Colt snapped.

  “Frank had a wife and family. Much of that will go to support them. That’s the price.”

  “We don’t have that kind of weight on us.”

  “What about your boss?”

  Colt blinked several times. “They’ll pay. They’re good for it.”

  “If so, we have a deal. You authorized to speak for them?”

  “I am.”

  “Then we’ll get you outfitted, give you back your weapons, and you can be on your way. Sooner the better, by the looks of that leg.” Ben looked around until his eyes settled on a short, swarthy man with long hair. “Tarak, come here.”

  Tarak approached, and Ben had a hurried discussion with him. Tarak nodded several times during the exchange and then made for the barn to get his horse and gear.

  “He’ll be ready to ride within the hour. He’s one of our best. He’ll accompany you and bring the gold back to us.”

  Colt shook his head. “No. They’ll never stand for it. He can wait for us in Albuquerque. I’ll return with the payment. Just as someone met you here to pay.”

  “The condition’s not negotiable. One of my men died – and he was a close friend. If you don’t want to accept our terms, you’re free to try your luck on your own. I won’t stop you. But I’ll also warn you that there are traps along the way. Tarak knows their locations. Without him, you might not make it, so think hard about your refusal. I bear you no ill will and would like to see you live, but I won’t risk Frank’s family going without because your people decided the price was too rich, after the fact.”

  “It’s against the rules. They won’t agree.”

  “Can you radio them? We have a shortwave set here.”

  Colt sighed. “Where?”

  Twenty minutes later, after a coded discussion across five different channels, Colt got reluctant approval. Ben nodded and disappeared for a few minutes, and returned with another pressure bandage and some salve.

  “This should reduce the pain some, but like I said, you’re going to need antibiotics. Venom won’t kill you, but the infection will. That should be your main concern in Albuquerque,” he said.

  “You sure you don’t have any you can give him?” Luca
s asked.

  “We have far too little to dispense it to others. But you can take some salve. It’s the best I can do.”

  Lucas frowned, but he understood. He couldn’t blame Ben – the doses Colt might have gotten would be ones the Apaches then wouldn’t have when a child sustained an ugly wound. Life in the new reality of post-collapse was one where charity could cost loved ones their lives.

  “You can always buy more,” Lucas tried.

  “I can’t take that risk,” Ben said in a tone that ended further discussion.

  Tarak reappeared a few minutes later with his horse, saddlebags bulging with supplies, and an AR-15 strapped to his back. Ben’s men returned the guns to Lucas and his group, and then they were ready to ride, the horses fed and watered, Colt’s pain somewhat eased by the goop and the bandage.

  “Thanks for everything,” Lucas said as they mounted up.

  Ben nodded. “See to it that Tarak makes it back in one piece.”

  “He’ll be paid, and then he’s on his own. Nobody’s going to babysit your man any more than you’ll part with drugs for ours.” Lucas took the guide’s measure. “He looks like he can handle himself.”

  “That he can. Tarak, radio me when you have the gold.”

  “Will do,” Tarak said, and urged his horse forward, the women trailing him and Lucas and Colt bringing up the rear.

  As the reservation faded into the distance behind them, Colt spurred his horse till he was beside Lucas and muttered under his breath, “Thanks for going to bat for me.”

  “No problem. Sorry I couldn’t convince him.”

  Colt shrugged. “It’s in God’s hands now. I’ll make it.”

  Lucas nodded. “You better. We’re screwed if you don’t.”

  Colt grimaced and saved his energy, his message conveyed, and they continued in silence, the only sound the clip-clop of hooves and the occasional moan of the wind out of the east.

  Chapter 14

  Artesia’s perimeter wall swam into view as Duke and Aaron pushed their horses hard, anxious to make it to the town’s protection before sundown. They’d made decent time, and Duke was hoping that Lucas was still there so he could discuss setting up another trading post, perhaps with him as a partner. After all, the former lawman was honest, knew weapons, and Duke could trust him in a pinch –the most important quality in a business associate. Duke could manage the actual trading, and Lucas the logistics of operating the site. At least, that was going to be his pitch.

 

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