“I prayed,” she whispered. “At least I tried to. I don’t know if—”
“Shh,” he said.
“What?” She pulled her head back and faced him. The bandage hid the upper half of her face, making it difficult to read her emotions.
“Don’t you hear it?” he asked. He did not give her time to answer. Instead, he took her arm and led her to the back of the station wagon, where he squatted down. By peering through the broken back window of the vehicle, he could just make out the way he had come a few minutes earlier.
Jenny tipped her head to the side, listening. “They’re getting closer,” she whispered. Victor knew this already. He could hear a low drumming sound, not unlike the rain on the roof of the country store the night before.
Next came the voices, calling to one another. They went back-and-forth, one person shouting a question and another answering with one syllable, yes or no. Victor guessed there were at least half a dozen, but it was difficult to tell.
“What do you see?” Jenny said. The calmness in her voice surprised Victor, though perhaps that was because nothing - not even the fear of the unknown - could top the terror she had felt when the wolves surrounded her.
“Nothing,” he answered, his eyes roving across the road and then back. He could not see them yet, but they were getting closer in a hurry.
“What do we do if they come this way?” Jenny said.
It occurred to Victor that already, so shortly after he had betrayed her trust, she was ready to let him take the lead. But her blindness, not to mention her age, gave her little choice. He could not imagine being in her position. There was nothing in the world that scared him more than helplessness.
“If they come this way,” he said, “we’ll stay hidden and they’ll just keep on moving.” He hoped this answer would avoid the moral discussion he’d provoked when he said he would “deal with” anyone they found inside the country store.
“The wolves didn’t keep on moving,” Jenny remarked.
“That’s because you were alone. You’re not alone now.”
She did not say what he was thinking—that as soon as he had left her, he’d become responsible for whatever happened to her. He understood that now, better than before. Maybe he’d just needed the light of the morning to clear his head.
A figure moved into view through the front window of the vehicle. He was on foot, holding a length of leather in his hand.
“I smell them,” Jenny whispered, grabbing Victor’s arm. “Horses!”
Yes, the man was leading a horse, but the glass was not clean enough for Victor to tell whether he recognized the man. Were these the same horsemen who had taken his brother? Had they circled back to get revenge for the shooting at Fairfield? He could not be sure. With the degradation of fossil fuels, older forms of transportation might become necessary again in certain parts of the country. It did not take a genius to see the advantages in riding a horse over walking on foot or even riding a bicycle. Still, even if these might not be the same people who took Dante, the sight of the horse caused the hair to stand on the nape of Victor’s neck.
When the man was beside the car, close enough that Victor doubted they could escape his notice, Victor stood and aimed his rifle at the stranger. The man appeared to be in his late forties, with a buzz cut that matched his military fatigues. The pistol in his left hand began to rise at the sight of Victor, but he managed to stop himself when he saw the barrel of the rifle pointed at him. If he had aimed the gun, Victor would have had no choice but to fire.
“You don’t want to shoot,” the stranger warned.
“Where are the others?” Victor said. He stepped around the side of the car, both to close the distance and to separate himself from Jenny in case things should get ugly. Without letting his eyes wander far from the stranger, he watched for movement nearby. He saw none. If the other riders were close, they were keeping their distance—for now.
The stranger spoke in a slow voice, like a teacher speaking to a child with a learning disability. “My name is John Blackburn, and I’m with the Pierce County Militia. Is it fair to assume you’re the one who discharged a firearm a few minutes ago?”
“What about it?”
The man looked at Victor more closely. “You’re not from around here, are you? We have orders to confiscate all weapons inside Federation limits.”
“Do you?” Victor answered softly.
“Just lower the gun and we can talk about this,” Blackburn said. He kept his pistol at his side, but Victor could see the tension in his arm, the bulge of his veins.
“How about you set the gun on the ground?” Victor suggested.
Blackburn’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Why don’t I bring you in? There’s food, water, medicine. When was the last time you had a good meal?”
“I do alright.”
“Okay. Well, is there anyone with you? Anyone who might want to accept my offer?” He leaned forward in an effort to see around the back of the vehicle, but Victor blocked his line of sight.
“If you don’t drop that gun in the next five seconds,” Victor said, “we’re going to have more than words.”
“Alright,” Blackburn answered. “Easy. I don’t want any trouble.” He bent over and slowly lowered the gun to the ground. As he did so, his eyes panned around their surroundings like he was expecting to see something.
“How many of you are there?” Victor said.
“Enough,” Blackburn answered. “Just lower your weapon and make it easy on yourself.”
Victor turned his head toward Jenny while keeping his eyes on Blackburn. “Time to get moving,” he said to her. He helped her up with his free hand, then approached Blackburn. “Back away from the horse,” he said.
Blackburn hardly seemed to have heard him. “Wait a minute,” he said, holding up a finger as he listened. “Something’s wrong.” He met Victor’s eyes again. “It’s not safe here. We need to get moving.” If this was a ruse, he was a good actor.
“Just tell me one thing,” Victor replied. “Be honest, because your life depends on it. Did you help kidnap a man yesterday?”
The stranger stared at Victor for a few moments. Just when he was about to answer, a burst of gunfire crackled on the far side of the road, sending bullets streaking past them. The horse, whose reins Blackburn was still holding, reared in the air, jerking him back a few steps.
Victor dropped back beside Jenny. “Those your guys?” he shouted to Blackburn.
“No, they must be outsiders,” the man answered, fighting to regain control of his horse. “Listen, you have to trust me. You don’t want to stay here.” While he was still speaking, three other riders broke into the clearing and came to a halt.
Victor peered around the side of the station wagon in the direction of the gunfire. A small army of men and women had gathered there. Their faces were filthy, their clothes ragged, but they had guns. A skinny woman in a halter top saw Victor and sprayed the side of the vehicle with automatic fire, forcing Victor to duck.
Blackburn was clambering into his saddle while the other riders returned fire. “It’s your choice,” he shouted to Victor. “Stay and die, or come with us. But think about the girl.”
Victor pressed his back to the station wagon, trying to clear his head. It was all happening too fast. If he stayed, he and Jenny would probably get surrounded. But if they left with the horsemen, they might find themselves jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.
“Your loss!” Blackburn shouted as he turned his horse. “I gave you a chance!”
“Wait!” Victor called back. He helped Jenny to her feet. “Stay close to me,” he said to her.
Chapter 17: The Federation
There were three other riders, each dressed in fatigues like Blackburn. Victor suspected Blackburn had combat experience, but he was not so sure about the others. They looked jumpy, ready to shoot at the first rabbit that broke through the underbrush, though some of this edginess was no doubt related to the g
unfire aimed in their direction.
“Marc,” Blackburn said to one of the others, “you take the girl.”
“No,” Victor answered, noticing Jenny’s fearful expression. “She rides with me.”
Blackburn looked displeased with this idea, but he seemed to understand there was no time for further argument. He tossed the reins to Victor and climbed into the saddle behind Marc. “Hurry!” he shouted to Victor.
Victor nearly lost control of the horse as he helped Jenny mount. He trotted alongside the horse, his hand supporting Jenny’s side as she gained the saddle. Then, as the other horses started forward, he planted his foot in the stirrup Jenny had just freed and pulled himself up.
That’s what he attempted, anyway. The climb was steeper than he had realized, and instead of swinging across the saddle like an old cowboy, he found himself lying across the shoulders of the horse as the animal bounded forward, trying to keep pace with the others.
Jenny’s hands clutched his backpack, probably as much to balance herself as to keep him from slipping off. As the horse moved into a canter, he managed to clutch the horse’s neck and turn himself around. He was sitting on the horn of the saddle (it was an English saddle, fortunately, rather than a Western saddle with a tall horn), but he was facing the right direction and his legs were astride the horse, so things could have been worse.
Blackburn slowed his mount just enough for Victor and Jenny to catch up with him.
“Where are we going?” Victor shouted.
Somewhere safe,” Blackburn answered. He pointed ahead, where two cars had been pushed into the road to create a blockade. The rider at the front held out his arm and led the others off the road and toward the trees.
“Sometimes it’s blockades,” Blackburn explained to Victor. “Sometimes they string steel cables across the road—anything to trip up the horses. If we had stopped, we’d be dead by now.”
Victor turned back as a few dozen figures emerged from around the blockade. An errant gunshot flew in their direction, but no harm was done.
“Who are they?” Victor asked.
“Outsiders.” The horses slowed as they began to navigate a path through the forest. The change of pace made it easier to hear what Blackburn said. “We’re outside the safe zone,” he continued. “The Federation has been expanding to include more towns, but some places - like this one - have no leadership of any kind. They’re savages. We’ve lost more than a few patrols to their ambushes.”
“Why do they ambush your men?”
Blackburn gave a bark of laughter. “Hell if I know! They probably just want to get their hands on our gear, especially the guns. Guns are in low supply around here.” Then his tone changed. “Stay low!”
As Victor ducked, he heard a soft whistle as a projectile - An arrow, he thought with some amazement - flitted through the forest, followed by a few more. He thought he glimpsed tents, some made of blue tarps, set up in the woods. Then they were through and they found themselves joining a different road, and the horses slowed to an easy trot.
“Almost there now,” Blackburn said. “Ever feel like you’ve just slipped into another time in history?”
“You have no idea,” Victor answered.
They slowed to a walk, and Blackburn withdrew a radio from his waist. He identified the number of people he had and the direction they were coming from, and advised the person on the other end to be aware of hostiles in the area.
After returning the radio to his waist, he glanced at Victor. “I heard there was a gunfight over in Fairfield.”
“News travels quick.”
“It does when you have your ear to the ground. You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”
Victor was not sure he liked the sound of this question. “No, I passed through before then.”
Blackburn nodded and glanced at a nearby water tower. He raised his hand high in the air, and Victor wondered if there was a sniper up in that tower, watching them right then.
Much like the blockade meant to ambush them, a large number of vehicles had been pushed into a line, forming the outer defense of the town. A sign painted on the raised hood of a car read, “WELCOME TO THE FEDERATION.”
“What’s going on?” Jenny asked.
Victor turned his head and spoke to her in a low voice. “There’s a town here. I’ll let you make the call. Should we go with them or take our chances on our own?” It would not make up for his betrayal, not by a long shot, but he figured it was a step in the right direction.
“Maybe they can help us,” she said, but there was doubt in her voice. “It’s better than being on our own, isn’t it?”
Victor was not so sure he agreed. He enjoyed solitude, felt comfortable with it, but she could stand to hear a few friendly voices. A hot supper, followed by a hot bath, wouldn’t do either of them any harm, for that matter.
“Okay,” Victor answered, nodding. “If your gut says to trust them, we’ll trust them.”
The point may already have been moot. They had reached the center of a cluster of buildings (it felt to Victor like the courtyard of a castle), and there were enough armed men to stop Victor and Jenny even if they turned and fled right then.
Victor’s descent from the horse was far more graceful than his ascent had been. As Jenny slid from the saddle, he took her in his arms and set her gently on the ground. She was as light as a scarecrow.
“We’ll have to separate you and the girl,” Blackburn said, placing his hands on his hips. “It’s just temporary. We need to make sure you don’t have lice, fleas, that kind of thing.”
Jenny’s hand clung desperately to Victor’s. “I don’t want to go with them,” she whispered.
Victor gave her hand a comforting squeeze and faced Blackburn. “There’s no need to frighten her.”
Blackburn cleared his throat, hiked his trousers, and squatted in front of Jenny. Victor felt the stirring of a paternal instinct he hadn’t known he possessed. He wanted to step in front of Jenny, tell Blackburn to talk to him if he had something to say. He decided, however, to let things play for now.
“I don’t know what you’ve been through,” Blackburn said to her, “but you’re safe now. You’re with friends. I have a daughter just a little younger than you. Her name’s Mable.”
Jenny turned her head and gave Victor an inquisitive look. He remained silent, watching with his arms crossed.
“What’s your name?” Blackburn asked.
“Jenny.”
“Okay, Jenny. I want to ask you a question. It’s very important. What happened to your eyes?”
“I hit my head,” Jenny answered in a faltering voice. She glanced at Victor again. “Can we go now?”
“Just one more question,” Blackburn insisted. “Did the man beside you do that?”
Victor stepped in front of Jenny, covering Blackburn with his shadow. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded as Blackburn began to rise.
Blackburn’s face was expressionless. “Just sorting things out. We have to be careful who we admit inside our walls.” He cocked his head and frowned. “You know, I really don’t see much resemblance between you two.”
“Fuck you.”
Blackburn pressed his lips together in a tight smile. “Okay. If that’s how you want it to be.” He turned to one of his companions. “Marc, take the girl.”
Victor started backing away, keeping Jenny behind him. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we just get out of your hair? Thanks for the help and all, but we can take it from here.”
Blackburn gave the sigh of a parent dealing with an unruly child. “That’s not how it works.”
“And why’s that?” He heard someone approaching from behind, but he did not turn. He didn’t dare take his eyes off the men in front of him.
Blackburn laughed softly. “You really think we rescued you out of the kindness of our hearts, don’t you?”
In one swift motion, Victor raised the rifle to his shoulder and aimed at Blackburn’s c
hest. Within seconds, as many as a dozen guns were aimed back at him. Someone began speaking rapidly into a radio, perhaps telling the sniper in the water tower he might be needed.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Blackburn warned. He didn’t flinched as the rifle pointed at him, which Victor grudgingly admired. This man had found himself in the crosshairs of a gun before.
“Think about the girl,” Blackburn said. “Think about the danger you’re putting her in. You don’t trust us, I get that, but she might be safer with us.”
Victor had a feeling Blackburn was right—not because Victor might physically harm the girl, as Blackburn had suspected, but because as long as he was chasing those horsemen, his road would put Jenny in danger. And as much as Victor tried to convince himself he wanted nothing except to get Dante back, he knew he could not stomach the shame of letting Jenny come to harm. Not after what he’d already put her through.
Brothers (The Last Colony Book 1) Page 12