“I thought you might be interested in the layout of the place. The Doc only showed you a small part of the compound. There’s a lot more to see.”
“Love to.”
“Want to grab lunch first, or head straight to the armory and the dorms?”
“I’m going to skip the food. Stomach’s a little rough.”
“Probably smart.”
The afternoon went by quickly, and by the time dusk was falling, Lucas felt like he knew the place as well as he’d known Loving. The level of sophistication of the systems was remarkable, and he had to hand it to Elliot – everyone he’d recruited had been an asset, and all had contributed materially to creating an enviable sanctuary.
Back in the sleeping quarters, he knocked on Sierra’s door, but nobody answered. He debated going in, but opted instead to nap until dinnertime, given that his head still ached from the prior night’s excesses. After two hours of sleep he felt better, and he took time to shave with his straight razor, touching his neck where Sierra’s pendant had hung before he’d returned it to her the night before. She’d been fingering it as they’d basked in the afterglow of lovemaking, and he’d slipped it off and lowered it over her head with the solemnity of a head of state awarding a medal. She’d laughed at his expression and kissed him hard, and then the world had faded and it had been only them.
He made his way to the mess hall and spotted Ruby sitting with Terry and Eve at one end of the crowded tables. Lucas helped himself to a rich brown stew and joined them. Elliot was sitting one table over with Michael and Arnold, and the hearty scientist waved.
Lucas smiled as he took a seat.
“How’d your day go?” he asked Eve.
“Good. I met a pig! Her name’s Ellie.”
“A pig?”
Ruby nodded. “A piglet. Cute little thing. Eve fell in love.”
“That’s wonderful,” Lucas said. “What else did you do?”
“Played. Made new friends.”
“There are a bunch of kids here,” Ruby said.
“Yes, we have twenty-three, fourteen of which are Eve’s age or younger,” Terry said.
“Your Aunt Sierra have fun with you?” Lucas asked, feeling sneaky at the loaded question.
Eve studied her knees beneath the table but didn’t respond.
Ruby frowned. “What is it, Eve?”
The girl shook her head and remained silent, her mouth a stubborn line.
“Is it about Sierra, Eve?” Lucas tried.
“Can’t talk about it.”
Lucas eyed Ruby and bent down to the little girl. “Who told you not to talk about it?”
“Aunt Sierra.”
“It’s okay, Eve,” Ruby said. “Sometimes grown-ups play jokes on each other. To be funny. One of the ways they do that is to ask people to keep secrets they know they can’t keep.”
Eve frowned. “Why’s that funny?”
“To see how long they can hold out.” Ruby paused. “It’s a grown-up thing. I don’t think it’s funny.”
“Neither do I,” Lucas said. “So you can tell us. You won’t get into trouble.”
“She made me swear.”
Ruby smiled. “Then it has to be a joke. Nobody would make a little angel like you swear unless it was a joke.”
Eve brightened. “Really?”
“Of course.”
Eve looked away. “I miss her.”
Lucas swallowed hard. “Where did she go, Eve?”
“She didn’t say that. Just she has to leave, and that she really loves me.” Eve blinked, and a tear trickled down her cheek.
“I’m sure of that,” Ruby said, struggling to maintain her composure.
“When did she tell you that?” Lucas asked.
“Early. She woke me. It was dark.” She looked up at Lucas. “She’ll be back, right?”
Lucas shoved his plate away and rose. “Better believe it.”
Ruby was right behind him when he pushed outside and stood glowering at the darkness. “You can’t do this tonight, Lucas.”
“I can, and will.”
“You’re just going to wind up with a lame horse, and we both know it. Not with this terrain. Wait until morning.”
Lucas looked at Ruby, and she could see pain in his eyes. “Why do you think she left?” he asked.
“I don’t know. But she’s always had her own agenda. I told you that before.”
He nodded. “You were right. But then why…why last night?”
Ruby had no answer.
Lucas looked around the valley, the stars so close at the high altitude he felt like he could touch them, and exhaled a long hiss of breath. “Be foolish to put Tango at risk on that trail tonight.”
“You’re better on a horse than she is. You’ll catch up to her.”
“Well, there’s only one way out. I’ll talk to Arnold and find out who was on guard duty this morning.” Lucas shook his head and his voice softened. “I don’t get it. I really don’t.”
“You’ll figure it out, Lucas. You always do.”
Lucas didn’t respond and instead trudged slowly back to the bunkhouse, his shoulders slumped like a defeated man.
Chapter 27
Duke and Aaron ambled up the main street in Roswell, leading their horses on foot. Their trip from Artesia had proved a grueling one and had taken three times longer than they’d expected due to flash floods. They’d barely left the town in pursuit of Lucas when the heavens opened up again, turning the trail into an impassible nightmare. They had made camp and waited it out. After a long day the rain had finally stopped, and they’d decided to spend the night where they were.
When they finally reached Roswell, they’d been stopped by guards and given the first degree, the sentries openly hostile until Duke had been able to reassure them that he was there to see his acquaintance, who owned the trading post in town.
It had been too late that evening to see Tucker, so they’d rented a room for the night in a sprawling Victorian house two blocks off the main drag and had their first hot meal in almost a week at an outdoor grill that boasted fish, rabbit, and dove.
After a solid night’s sleep, they’d gone in search of Tucker’s Trading and were making their way up the street on their horses when a man called out to them at the main square.
“You two. Hold up!”
A rugged man in a ten-gallon hat with a semiautomatic pistol in a hip holster walked toward them from the far sidewalk. Duke spotted the badge pinned to his vest and nudged Aaron. “Looks like the local lawman wants a word.”
“We haven’t done anything.”
“Then we’ve got nothing to worry about.”
The sheriff neared and stopped a few yards from them, taking their measure, a look of disapproval on his face. “Where are you boys headed?”
“Up to Tucker’s,” Duke said, his voice neutral.
“You got business there?”
Duke nodded. “Yes. He’s a friend of mine.”
The sheriff stared up at Aaron for a long beat and then shifted his gaze back to Duke. “That right? Where you boys from?”
“Down south,” Duke said, wanting to keep it vague.
“Look like you’ve been through it.”
“Got caught in the storm. You know how it is.”
“Right. Well, I figured I’d introduce myself and lay out the town rules. We don’t like trouble. Which means we tend to keep to our own kind and mind our business,” the sheriff said, looking to Aaron again.
“Your own kind?” Aaron asked.
“That’s right. Locals tend to like other locals, if you catch my drift.”
Duke nodded, trying to diffuse the tension that was building from nowhere. “We’re just here to check in with Tucker.”
“Best to keep it to that.”
Both Aaron and Duke nodded, and the sheriff moved away. Duke shook his head and gave Aaron a sidelong glance, and the younger man rolled his eyes.
They arrived at Tucker’s and tied their horses
outside. When they entered, Tucker looked up from the ammo he was counting and nodded a greeting. “That really you, Duke?”
“One and the same.”
“Off the beaten path, aren’t you? What are you doing slumming in these parts?”
“Closed down my place. Not much happening since Loving got destroyed.”
“Heard about that.” Tucker held his hand out to shake. “Nice to see you.”
Duke clasped his hand. “Likewise. This here’s Aaron.”
“Pleasure.” Tucker raised an eyebrow. “What brings you to beautiful Roswell?”
“Thinking about opening a new place around here.”
Tucker’s face clouded. “Yeah?”
“But before I did, I wanted to check in with you and see if you need any help with yours. Be a lot easier to partner up than start from scratch.”
Tucker regarded Duke for a long moment. “What do you bring to the table?”
“Besides my charming disposition and gift of gab? Well, I have Aaron here and a bag of working capital.” Duke leaned into Tucker and whispered softly. Tucker’s eyes widened as Duke described his gold and silver holdings.
“Crap, buddy, you could just buy the place for that,” Tucker said.
“Nah. I’m looking to build something, not buy it.” Duke looked around. “There enough trading to support growth?”
Tucker nodded. “Sure. I mean, it’s steady, but there are only so many hours in a day.”
“Maybe we can help out and I can throw my back into it some. Pay you a commission for every deal I do? Or split our hours…and the take?”
“You serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
Tucker rubbed the graying stubble on his chin. “I’m short-handed right now, so the truth is I could use some help. One of my guys took off the other day. Said he’d be back in a few weeks, but you never know.” Tucker told him about losing Carlton to the big tattooed thug. When he was finished, Duke was frowning.
“This fella have a tattoo of an eye in the middle of his forehead?”
“That’s right. How’d you know?”
“He gets around. Stopped at my place and made a bunch of threats.”
“Long way from home to be throwing shade.”
Duke nodded. “Guy’s seriously bad news. He say what he was doing here?”
“Looking for somebody.”
“Same as at my place. Must not be having any luck.”
“No. Bunch of his boys got shot up pretty good over at the lake.” Tucker told Duke about the battle.
Duke whistled softly when he was done. “Sounds like he bit off more than he could chew.”
“Yep.”
Tucker and Duke dickered for a half hour over how they could do business together, and finally agreed on an equitable split. Duke and Aaron would work half days and pocket the profits after paying a slice for the use of the store. Anything in their inventory would be stored in a separate locked area, and if they sold something out of Tucker’s, they’d get a small commission for their trouble, whereas if they bought or sold anything for themselves, they paid the fee and that was it.
Duke led Aaron from the shop, a smile on his face. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“I don’t know. It isn’t like you to partner up.”
“Only for a while.”
“Really?”
“Nothing lasts forever, but at least this way we’re earning our keep rather than depleting our savings. Paying as we go. Long as we make enough to cover our nut, it’s a win. If we don’t like the town, we move on, and in the meantime we develop relationships and a reputation we can take with us if we decide to set up shop permanently.”
Aaron nodded. “Smart.”
“Even a broken clock’s right twice a day.”
Chapter 28
Lucas was up and dressed by the time dawn broke. His clothes had been cleaned, folded, and brought back the day before while he was out, and he’d packed his saddlebags before turning in. In the cold early light, he shouldered his M4, slid his Kimber into its hip holster, and hoisted the saddlebags before making for the door.
A skin of fog hung over the valley like fresh snow, stirring as he strode to the barn, and the air bit at his lungs with each breath. At the stable door the attendant watched him groggily while he hurried to Tango’s stall. The space next to the big stallion was empty, confirming what he already knew – Sierra had taken Nugget before the camp had awakened the prior morning.
Lucas checked the Remington 700 sniper rifle in the saddle scabbard to verify it was still ready for duty, fitted the bags and saddle into place, and led Tango from the barn into the field of white.
They approached the main building, where Arnold was waiting with one of the guards from the previous morning. Arnold nodded to Lucas and introduced Lyle, a man in his late twenties with a military bearing and hair cropped close to his skull.
“He saw them leave yesterday,” Arnold said.
“Them?” Lucas asked.
Lyle cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. First the Apache. An hour or so later, the woman.”
Lucas’s expression darkened. “Why didn’t you stop them?”
“The guide had clearance to leave.”
“And the woman?” Lucas demanded.
“She said he’d forgotten something important and she had to give it to him. Said she’d return shortly.”
“But she didn’t,” Arnold muttered.
“I was off duty at nine in the morning. I wouldn’t know.”
“You believed her?” Lucas asked. “Why?”
“I had no reason not to, did I?” Lyle fired back. “We’ve been ordered to treat you as honored guests. That didn’t include assuming everything we were told was a lie.”
Arnold took Lucas aside. “It’s not his fault. He was just doing his job.”
“Way he describes things, the guide was in on it.”
“Sounds like he was. But to what end?”
Lucas’s expression hardened. “That’s what I’m going to find out.”
“Need some company?”
Lucas shook his head. “No. This is my problem.”
“Might be our problem if it’s a security breach.”
“You’ll be the first to know if it is.”
Arnold took in Lucas’s grim expression and nodded. “I believe it.”
Lucas swung up into the saddle and directed Tango to the trail that led to the canyon entry, his mind racing at the implication that Sierra had somehow conspired with the Apache to leave Shangri-La the day after she’d arrived. It made no sense to him after all she’d been through to get there.
He tried not to take it as a rejection, his logical mind telling him that if she’d planned it in advance with Tarak, it had nothing to do with him, but it was difficult to separate emotion from fact.
But then why? Why abandon Eve – and him – when they’d succeeded?
A dark suspicion formed in his mind as he recalled Arnold’s words. Had she been a turncoat all along, chartered with learning the location and reporting back to Magnus? Had her time with Lucas been nothing more than an act to lull him into trusting her? Had it meant nothing?
The thought twisted in his guts like a knife. If true, he had brought calamity to three hundred good people, and their very existences were now in jeopardy.
Eve’s face flashed through Lucas’s mind.
The idea was monstrous. But he couldn’t discount it. What did he really know about Sierra, anyway? Just what she’d told him, which he now realized could have all been lies – a cover story artfully crafted to fool him.
But what about Jacob? He’d been convinced she was genuine.
Which made it even worse. Perhaps she’d been planted all along and had used her charms to gain Jacob’s trust, just as she’d done with Lucas.
He banished the thoughts as he entered the first branch of the ravine, aware that he was being watched through sniper scopes from the caves at the canyon lip, the crosshairs
tracing over his back as he wended his way along the dry wash.
The trip down the mountain went far faster than the climb up, and he was in Los Alamos little more than two hours later. He guided Tango along the main road, scanning it for tracks, and found what he was looking for as he neared the bridge over the Rio Grande. She was retracing her steps, either with the guide or close behind him. In the end it didn’t matter. She’d left under her own steam, nobody coercing her.
Lucas straightened in the saddle, grinding his teeth as he rode, digesting the unpleasant implications, and then forced the speculations from his mind. They had a day on him, so how to narrow the lead? Judging by the tracks, they were moving at a walk, which made sense if they expected their horses to have to travel many miles – like back to Albuquerque and then on to Houston or Lubbock.
Lucas had an advantage, because he could drive Tango hard and cut their lead down by continuing after dark, thus overtaking them, with any luck, by late that night or tomorrow. They would probably expect pursuit, though, so he couldn’t be reckless.
He calculated the math. They might make thirty to thirty-five miles per day, best case, on these trails. Tango could cover that in about six hours in judicious sprints, but he’d be blown out afterward and would be hard pressed to manage much more than a slow walk.
Which was fine. It meant by afternoon he’d have covered the distance they would have made their first day, and the rest would be keeping pace with them. He would close the final gap after dark, and they’d get the surprise of their lives in the wee hours.
He deliberately avoided thinking about what he would do when he caught up to them. There was no point in making his already miserable trip worse with trying to predict the future. All he knew was that there would be no more assumptions, no further benefits of the doubt given to Sierra.
Once across the river he urged Tango to a trot, somewhere around eight miles per hour, a loping speed the stallion could keep up for a half hour at a time. At a gallop he could hit over thirty, but he couldn’t sustain it, and even a canter would wear him out quickly. But a trot was manageable and the timing would work.
Lucas would be confronting Sierra some time that night.
The Day After Never - Covenant (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 3) Page 13