Land of the Dead (Rise of the Empaths Book 2)

by A. S. Hames

  I knew we hadn’t escaped.

  “Down there,” Ben says.

  We scramble down a steep escarpment which means the riders will have to dismount or go the long way round to reach us. Either way, it gives us a chance to cross the river and lose them for good.

  It’s not long before we know the outcome – two of them – they’ve stayed on horseback and gone farther along to cut us off at the bottom. I think of going back up, but it’s too dangerous. What if there are more riders coming? We’d be caught in the middle.

  We hurry down, slipping and stumbling. If they get to the bottom while we’re still on the escarpment, they’ll have all night to use us for shooting practice.

  I slip and go bumping and crashing all the way down, losing my bearings and the cookies. I’m aware of my leg hurting, and my head. Ben grabs my hand and pulls me up.

  “Run,” he says.

  We run. Me, Ben, and Von, all trying to get to cover somewhere by the water. But the horses are coming down the dust track, so we burst through some scratchy bushes and I can see the water is low and rocky and maybe crossable. The other side is a higher embankment that horses would struggle with. We have to make it across because there’s no real cover on this side. But in open water…?

  Von is first in and splashing through. Ben isn’t far behind him. And I’m last because my body hurts too much. I turn. Maybe I can lead the horses away. It seems like a good plan. It would give Ben and Von a chance. I run along the water’s edge.

  “What are you doing?” Ben yells.

  “Get across!” I yell back.

  And the first horse leaps right over the bushes and thunders down onto the shoreline. And the rider sees the options. The target seems to be Ben’s back. I raise my own gun and fire.

  Krak! Krak! Click. Click.

  I don’t hit anything, but I stop the shooter. Now I’m the target and the second rider is coming after me. Good. I drop the gun and take out the one I took from the dead soldier. How many guns have I got through since I was given a rifle with a dent in the barrel? How many times do you need to fire all your bullets to make this kind of thing stop?

  The second horse hurdles the bushes and comes straight at me. I aim.

  Krak!

  The second rider goes down. I hear the cry of pain. It’s a woman. She’s off the horse. I think I clipped her shoulder but I’m running into more bushes.

  Krak!

  There are more shots heading my way from the first rider. I fire over my shoulder.

  Krak!

  I’ll never make it to any kind of cover. I only have a few seconds before the first rider is right behind me with the clearest and easiest shot in the world.

  So I do something I never thought possible. I stop and I turn. I face my enemy. And it’s another woman. And she raises her gun and I raise mine. And there’s some power looking out for me because her horse is bouncing her around while my aim is steady.

  She looks like someone’s big sister.

  Krak! Click. Click.

  The horse thunders by leaving its rider at my feet. I’ve shot her dead. The other rider, holding her shoulder, doesn’t bother about coming nearer to reclaim her weapon. She scampers away. I’m out of bullets and she’s running away. She’s damn well running away!

  “Jay! Hurry!” Ben is on the other side with Von. They’re safe. We’re all safe. For now. I grab the dead soldier’s gun and I try to run to the water. I can only get a few paces before I’m reduced to hobbling. I don’t care though. I’m alive. I’m alive and so are Ben and Von, and we have weapons. And when that’s the case, there’s still hope that we can save Zu.

  Except as I hit the water, I feel faint. I…

  Death – at the water, having killed the rider, I…

  I didn’t think it would be so deep. I recall a sergeant ducking me… thought I was going to die… am now… everything slowing… pulling… pulling…

  Upward?

  I break the surface. My shirt collar is between Von’s jaws.

  I cough and splutter my way to safety. Once I’m across the river, I collapse, cough some more and struggle onward, up the high rocky embankment. It takes a while, but Ben helps me and we make it to the top.

  “I saw Zu,” I say.

  “You’re sure it was Zu?”

  “I’m sure.”

  We move away from the edge, into the night.

  “How did she look?” Ben asks. “Was she okay?”

  “Not good, but alive. Unless…”

  “Unless she got caught up in the shooting?”

  “Yes.”

  “But we don’t know that for sure.”

  “No.” I try to be positive. “They must think she has information, otherwise they’d have killed her.”

  “Maybe she’s told them she was with the Representative.”

  “Something like that might help her… unless they’ve decided to use her as an example on film.”

  “Do you think that would happen in the Lake Towns?”

  “If the South State has taken over, yes.”

  “So…”

  “So…”

  There’s no doubting it looks like we might still be headed for the Lake Towns, but for a whole new reason.

  We walk for an hour or so, then the tiredness gets to us and the plan changes to sleeping where we drop. But, just as we’re about to flop down anywhere within the next few yards, I see a white fence.

  We’re soon outside a small place. Agricultural. We approach it with our guns at the ready, even though I have no bullets. As it is, it’s yet another abandoned home. Where do the people run to?

  It’s a gamble that the charcoals won’t come after us, but it seems to me they don’t know which way we went. And besides, they have enough problems to contend with.

  I find a big bed and settle myself. I’m surprised when Ben climbs onto the same bed and flops himself down beside me. Then Von jumps up and curls himself by our feet. I was ready to go straight to sleep, but now…?

  All goes quiet. I feel awkward about sleeping alongside Ben. I have increasingly strong feelings toward him – but this…? I’m about to suggest a more private sleeping arrangement when I realize he’s snoring. Von’s snoring too.

  I turn over and close my eyes. I can’t sleep though. My thoughts propel me through a cascade of explosions, shootings, and death. It’s like I never existed in a time of peace and contentment.

  I think of the colonel, and Essie, and the engine driver, and the women on the train, and Sergeant Seven-Nine, and the film woman. I think of the bomb victims at camp, and the outpost victims, and the innocents at Endeavor, and Colonel Steven Rose. I think of dead people in their homes. And I think of Zu, and Dub, and the child-sergeant, and Ma, and my brother. And my thoughts grow ever darker, because I’m thinking about Ben, Von, and me… and what’s to come.

  15. The Checkpoint

  BEN

  I open my eyes. There’s a dull light.

  “Is it morning?” Jay asks.

  “It’s close enough.”

  I go outside and pick a load of berries, most of them unripe, then I boil them in a pot of water. It’s sour and horrible but I eat it down, and so does Jay.

  “You want some of this, Von?” I ask.

  Von declines. If he could speak, I’m sure he would tell me exactly what to do with it. Me, I’ll deal with a bellyache somewhere in the hours ahead. Right now, I have to shut my damned stomach up.

  “Right… Zu…” Jay says.

  “Zu,” I repeat.

  Within the hour we’re across the river and searching for the cookies Jay dropped. Thanks to Von’s nose we find them. It’s like a little victory as we share them.

  When we get to the camp, we find them packing up to leave. I reckon they’re missing a fair few. They have just one female prisoner – Zu, with her hands tied to the back of a wagon.

  As for their transport, they’re down on that too. Half their horses and mules are dead, and one of the cars is shot up.
Looks like they won’t be able to move much faster than us.

  When they do eventually move out, it’s south-east. We soon find where they’ve dumped their dead and we retrieve some useful items. A couple of light backpacks, boots, socks, some cookies they missed, and a compass.

  Leaving the campsite, we agree that rescuing Zu is the most important thing now. We stay well back, of course. We just need to follow them. We don’t need them to know it.

  And so we follow. All day. And we follow them all the next day too.

  Despite having seventeen cookies between us, I feel sickness coming on, and I’m glad of the chance to catch some tiny fish in a creek. I eat six of them and throw up. Not put off, I eat another four and I insist my stomach stays calm. It’s a long battle inside me. It’s what my grandma calls a fifty-fifty and it stays that way for some time.

  By the next morning, I’m still feeling sick and queasy, and whatever waste I expel comes out like water. I ignore it. In such circumstances, keep drinking. So we drink plenty of water, and we eat our cookies. Even so, I’m feeling half dead when we reach a big sign on the trailside, which Jay reads for me.

  YOU ARE ENTERING

  LAKE COUNTRY

  Does mean we’re no longer in Freedom Country? I suppose it does. On the reverse side of the sign, it tells anyone heading north that they’re leaving Lake Country

  With two more exhausting days passing, mountains rise up to the east of the trail. Me, Jay, and Von are eating grass, shoots, berries, and bugs with our daily ration of cookies to put some bulk into our stomachs. It doesn’t make me feel any better. The fact is we are gradually starving while we’re struggling to stay with the charcoals. They have a steadier step that’s hard for us to match. We only keep up with them by the luck of overloaded mules, broken wagon wheels they have to fix, and their liking for strong drink that sees them stop early and start late.

  It’s not so difficult to spot Zu tied to a wagon. We’re grateful she’s still alive, but she looks bad. We try to see a way to get her out, but it’s not possible yet. Even at night, under the half moon, there would be plenty of light for the charcoals to shoot us by.

  Then, unexpectedly, we get closer to our enemy than we’ve been in a while. They’ve diverted a little off the trail to enjoy hot springs. We watch them bathe and play while we try to come up with plan that will free Zu – but for all our deliberations we just can’t think of a way past the numbers on their side.

  When they move on the next morning, we try the hot water. It’s amazing, but you can’t eat it.

  JAY

  Seems like we’ve been walking forever when we come up against a great lake to our right. I’d love to shoot a bird or two, but the charcoals might take an unwanted interest in us – so we keep going.

  Still, we cross a creek that’s flowing very slowly into the lake. Here we drink plenty of fresh water coming out of the mountains. There’s no fish though. I suppose I’ve pretty much given up on anything other than dying on the trail, but I pass the time by trying to engage Von. It’s hard to do but I’m sure I’m getting a greater sense of our wolf now.

  Half a day later, we reach a fork. The main trail ahead is blocked by a wooden barricade of barrels and planks, and there’s a painted sign.

  NO ENTRY

  TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT DEAD

  The fork to the left is open and also has a sign.

  LAKE TOWN THREE

  REPORT TO THE CHECKPOINT

  AVOIDERS WILL BE SHOT DEAD

  I read both signs to Ben and we wonder if we’ve arrived at the Leader’s abode. It’s not a difficult conclusion to reach when the walled fort off to our left contains a truly tall white stone tower. There must be at least six levels. I know people talk of ancient, falling towers in old cities being much higher – maybe fifty levels – but this is the biggest I’ve ever set eyes on.

  “That really is something,” Ben says. Then he heads away from the trail and I look the other way and make unnecessary talk to cover the noise of him peeing.

  “You know this is where all the big things are built,” I say. “Cars, trucks, steam engines…”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Hey, hey, look,” he says. “Another sign.”

  I wait a moment for him to finish his business then I go to check. It’s an old sign face down on the grass, which he turns over.

  LEFT FORK FOR

  LAKE TOWN 3 (NORTH)

  CONTINUE STRAIGHT ON FOR

  LAKE TOWN 2 (CENTRAL)

  LAKE TOWN 1 (SOUTH)

  “What does it say?” Ben asks.

  “It says the old order is dead, Ben. It says the Nation has fallen. But we knew that, didn’t we.”

  Ben looks down the left turn that Zu and the charcoals have taken. I’m wishing I had a spyglass, but I study the distant checkpoint as best I can. It’s a large wooden cabin situated a hundred feet outside the fort town. It throws me back to the outpost at Endeavor. The open ground would make it difficult for us to follow Zu without being seen.

  The guards – two of them that I can see – are wearing the South State dark gray. This only confirms what we’ve feared. The Leader of the Nation is either dead or being held prisoner and the charcoals have the Lake Towns. All of them.

  “Right, so they’ve closed the trail to make everything go past the checkpoint. That means anyone moving north or south, or into the fort, can be checked.

  Ben strokes Von’s head. “Think we can get inside without getting shot?” he asks.

  “Tough question.”

  “Charcoals straight ahead,” he says with more urgency. He’s looking south down the Lake Country trail at a distant four-man patrol.

  Krak! Krak!

  I flinch. Gunfire. But it’s a little way off.

  “Up ahead to the right,” Ben says.

  Looking to where’s he’s pointing, I see more men. They’re shooting away from us, maybe at wildfowl on the lake.

  Krak! Krak!

  More shots, but even farther away. It seems they’re serious about landing a good dinner.

  I look back the way we came, and up to the eastern mountains that have followed us, and then I look south. There’s something a long way off, approaching from the other direction. It looks like a horse-drawn wagon. Whether they’re coming this way or going to the fort, they’ll have to pass the checkpoint.

  “We have a choice, Ben. We can either approach the checkpoint, or we can head south down the Lake Country trail for a few hundred yards, and then use the southern approach to the checkpoint.”

  “Why would we do that?”

  “Because I see a wagon.”

  Ben looks. “That might give us the cover we need to get in. Then again…”

  “We’ve come a long way. We can’t stop now.”

  He nods and gives me his hand. I take it in mine and give it a squeeze.

  “About you being an empath?”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s fine by me.”

  “To the end, Ben.”

  “To the end, Jay.”

  A surge runs through me. I want to embrace him, but I resist it.

  “What about Von?” Ben says.

  “I think this is where we have to say farewell.”

  It feels wrong, but Von can’t help us here. If we get past the checkpoint, he’ll never make it through the fort’s main gate. And even if he did, he would draw too much attention to us once we were inside.

  “Von?” I can’t believe we’re going to leave our wolf behind. It’s seems too swift, but I point west across the trail at the long grass, away from danger. “Go, Von.” My voice catches a little as I say it.

  The poor thing is half dead, but he obeys, trotting on for about thirty yards until he’s not so easy to see from the trail.

  He turns.

  “Go on, Von,” I say, although my voice is no more than a whisper.

  He turns again and he’s gone.

  I turn to Ben. His eyes are damp.

  “So…”
he says.

  “So…” I repeat. It really does feel like the end.

  “We should stay to the right of the trail,” Ben says.

  He’s right. The grass is longer and there are some bushes that might help keep us invisible to the enemy.

  This is it. We get down on our fronts so we can move unseen. I’m no great soldier, no hero at all, but my mind is clear about what we need to do. With the sun on our backs, we begin the long, slow crawl to the point where the main trail merges with the southern approach to the checkpoint. It’s funny, but when I joined the army, I fully expected to still be alive and active a month into my service, and here I am. Can’t say I ever saw it turning out like this though.

  “Scared?” Ben says.

  “Would you believe me if I said no?”

  “No.”

  I like our honesty. I like the way we don’t have to dress things up. I like the way we don’t need any of those lying official films to get us ready. We just crawl, maybe to success, maybe to our deaths.

  Krak! Krak!

  It’s the damned bird hunters again, shooting their damned dinner. As if I need them scaring the life out of me. I also now have an image of dead birds in my head when I don’t need that either. Then the face of the veteran comes back to me. From representing the Nation in battle to stealing a cooked chicken. Who’s to say what’s important in war.

  In fact… just the thought of food puts the smell of it in my nostrils.

  Ben halts. I halt.

  “You smell that?” he says.

  So it’s not my imagination. The checkpoint is a hundred yards away to our left, but I think I can see a little fire outside, with a pan of food frying. I wish the breeze wasn’t coming our way, because my stomach is twisting and turning in torment.

  A guard comes out to check on their hot lunch. He seems happy enough because he goes straight back inside.

  Ben moves. I move.

  I don’t think you can ever feel more alive than at a time like this, when each breath is weighed and each inch crawled is measured. Everything is vital.