The Day After Never (Book 7): Havoc

by Blake, Russell

Lucas looked to Henry. “I’m headed over to the capitol building. You hear shooting, throw everything you have at them and don’t stop till you run out of shells.”

  “Will do. You think they’re on the level?”

  “They probably want to understand what they’re up against. Sam? You think you can make it there on foot?”

  “You bet.”

  Lucas and Sam descended the stairs and darted along the base of the hospital until they reached the street that ran along the west side of the university, figuring it would be prudent to avoid the side of the campus where the bikers were concentrated. They hurried along the wide boulevard until they were at the base of the surrounding buildings, and then slowed their pace as a concession to Sam’s injury, sticking to the darkest areas of the street.

  The capitol rose out of the darkness to their right, a white four-story behemoth with a massive turret to set it apart from commercial structures. They skirted around to the side, where hundreds of fighters were waiting with their weapons.

  “How do we get in?” Sam asked one of the men he recognized.

  “Either the front or the back. Got some men in the rear guarding it.”

  “Thanks.”

  They ran to the rear exit, where six guards bristled at their appearance until they realized who it was and relaxed. Lucas shouldered through an oversized bronze door and found himself in near total darkness.

  “Art? Where you at?” he called.

  “Over here. Keep walking straight down the hallway and you should see some light.”

  Lucas and Sam made their way along the corridor until they saw faint moonlight through the open double doors of the entrance, and approached slowly. Art and a dozen of his fighters were standing there, facing two bikers, who looked suitably cowed.

  “This here’s Lucas. He calls the shots,” Art said.

  Both bikers were large men with heavy beards and long hair. The bigger of the two, a soiled green bandana on his head and full-sleeve tattoos covering his massive crossed arms, nodded once.

  “We want to parlay.”

  Lucas nodded. “So talk.”

  “We don’t want to fight.”

  “Shame. We came a ways to do just that.”

  “We ain’t done nothin’ to you.”

  Sam stepped into view. “Not true. You took my friends prisoner, and you’ve been terrorizing Salem ever since you showed your ugly faces. That ends now, one way or another.”

  The biker glared at Sam and then back at Lucas. “Who’s the runt?”

  Lucas held his stare. “One of the guys who decides whether you die tonight.”

  “We keep at this, lots of people will die, and not only us.”

  “Got a thousand men ready to do just that. What are you proposing?”

  “Leave us be and we’ll let the town alone.”

  Sam snorted, and Lucas shook his head. “Not a chance.” He sighed. “Here’s your choices. Surrender and turn over all your weapons before daybreak, or we’ll shoot every one of you down to the last man.”

  “We got civilians in with us.”

  “Bad luck for them. But that’s still the deal.”

  “You think you can just show up and order us out of here?”

  “Reckon not. So run back to your leader and tell him to make out a will, because you’ll be dead by sunup.”

  The biker continued to glare at him and then finally looked away. “He’ll never do it.”

  “Party’s over. You had your run. Most of my men have had to deal with you or your kind, and they aren’t as disposed to being charitable as I am. So either unconditional surrender right now, or they’ll water the trees with your blood and sleep like babies after. Your choice.” He paused. “I’m not bluffing. This is your only chance.”

  “What if we agree? What then? They’ll hunt us down.”

  “If you give up, you’ll face the town. They’ll probably set up a court to charge the worst of you. Not my problem. You earned it. Some may get to walk. Or not. But it’s better than what you’re facing.”

  “He’ll never go for it.”

  “Then make peace with your maker, because you don’t have much time left.”

  The bikers exchanged a troubled glance, and the big one turned back to Lucas. “You gotta give me something to work with.”

  “Discussion’s over. Live or die – that’s what you have to work with. You have five minutes to talk it over. After that, the bombing continues.” Lucas spat to the side. “We see you trying to sneak out, including down the creek, the deal’s off. Clear?”

  The bikers left, and Art shook his head. “I never want to play poker with you.”

  “Meant every word.”

  Sam cut in. “Why let these scum off? They’ve been raping and pillaging like they’ll never be held to account. That’s done. They can face the music or the mortars. I don’t really care which. Good riddance either way.”

  “You heard the man,” Lucas said. “I’m just here for the drinks.”

  No more than three minutes went by before a voice called out from the second floor, “They’re comin’ back.”

  This time the two men were accompanied by a third biker clad head to toe in leather with a black leather cowboy hat pulled low on his brow. He stopped in front of Lucas, his expression neutral.

  “We’ve got grenade launchers too,” he said. “We can turn this building into rubble, and your men with it.”

  “Then take your best shot,” Lucas said, and raised the radio to his lips. “Get the mortars ready.”

  “Here’s the deal. You let us leave. We stay gone. You can have all our weapons except what we need to hunt.”

  “You must be hard of hearing. Surrender or die.”

  “And let the townspeople tear us apart?”

  “They won’t if you haven’t done anything to deserve it.”

  “I’d rather die quick.”

  “Have it your way.”

  The biker with the green bandana stepped away from the leader. “I’ll take the deal.”

  The other nodded. “Me too.”

  Lucas gave the leader a tight smile. “Wonder how many of your men are willing to die with you?”

  “You traitorous scum,” he snarled at his men, fists balled by his sides.

  Art stepped from the shadows and faced the biker with the green bandana. “Tell you what, buddy. You go back and give your boys the same choice you just made. Anyone wants the deal can cross the street to our side. Anyone wants to go down with the ship can stay, and we’ll release your man here to meet his fate.”

  “No!” the leader snapped.

  Art nodded to his men, and two of them grabbed the leader’s arms while a third cocked the hammer on his pistol and pressed it against the back of his head. Lucas motioned to the biker with the bandana, who took off at a run while the leader glowered at him.

  “You’re going to regret this. All of you,” he hissed.

  “That’s a nice hat,” Lucas said. “Trade you some rounds for it. Won’t make it through what’s coming. Hate to see a good hat ruined for nothing.”

  The biker returned, accompanied by at least twenty others, with more trailing from the buildings to join them. Art looked to Sam. “The jail still standing? We need someplace to hold them all.”

  “Let’s leave that up to the locals. We can guard them in a central location and hand them over to whoever wants to run the town.”

  Art’s men waited on the steps of the capitol while the bikers laid their weapons in a mounting pile and then stood to the side under the watchful eye of Sam and Bill’s troops. When they did a count, there were a hundred and four bikers who’d surrendered.

  Lucas nodded to Art, and they released the leader. “Not sure how many of your gang this is, but it doesn’t matter. Mortars won’t know any difference between one hundred or three.”

  “You’re talking cold-blooded murder. You know that.”

  “Cry me a river. Now you going back, or you giving up?”

&n
bsp; The leader stormed back across the street and disappeared into the building. The biker with the green bandana met Lucas’s gaze. “There’s only about twenty of them left.”

  “Their call.”

  Lucas retraced his steps to the hospital, and when he was almost there, his radio crackled again. Art’s voice greeted him, his tone relieved.

  “They came out. We’ll do a sweep of the campus and find someplace to stick them. Stand down. Repeat, stand down.”

  Chapter 23

  Amber Hot Springs, Colorado

  Elliot paced in front of the morning fire, his face a study in tension. It had been a long two hours as the community had secured its borders and stood guard against an unknown threat.

  Duke came in at a run, his expression bleak. Elliot looked up at him and stopped his pacing.

  “What is it?”

  “They’re gone. Ellen and the sisters.”

  “What? How? Is there any sign of foul play?”

  “No. The door’s open and everything’s cleaned out. I didn’t even notice until it got light out. I was too busy doing guard duty. But they’re gone, and so are their horses.”

  Elliot’s stare darkened, and he turned to Arnold. “Search all the cabins.”

  Arnold took off at a run, and Duke surveyed the camp. “What the hell’s going on?”

  “Tell me again how you met these women.”

  “They were being chased by scavengers. We shot the attackers, and the women stopped at the trading post. They were looing for work as well as shelter, so it seemed a good fit. We spent some time getting to know each other, and I invited them to join Shangri-La. Just like I’ve invited others.”

  “And they’re from Denver? They give you any sense that they were being hunted by someone?”

  “Not other than those marauders, no. You heard their story yourself.”

  Minutes ticked by, and Elliot resumed his silent pacing as the fire crackled and popped. Duke was yawning and stretching his arms over his head when Arnold’s voice rang out from up the path.

  “Duke! Elliot!”

  Duke leapt to his feet and followed Elliot to Sierra’s cabin, where Arnold was standing beside her, supporting her. Dried blood had caked in her hair and down her face, and she looked dazed.

  “What happened?” Elliot demanded.

  “Your lady friends knocked her out with their rifle and kidnapped Eve,” Arnold said, his voice flat.

  “What?” Duke exclaimed. “That’s…insane!”

  “They were tied up on the floor. The boy’s afraid to come out, but it doesn’t look like he’s hurt. Just shaken.” Arnold indicated Sierra. “Sierra, on the other hand, took a mean blow to her head.”

  “God…” Duke said, his eyes bleak. “I…I can’t believe it.”

  Elliot stepped forward. “I have no idea what’s going on here, but, Arnold, I want you to put together a tracking party and find them.”

  “She…” Sierra started, and broke into tears. “You have to get Eve back. Please. You have to…”

  Arnold stared holes through Duke. “You have any clue where they might have taken her, or why?”

  All Duke could manage was to shake his head. “I…no.”

  Arnold looked to Elliot. “I’ll round up some men. They have a two-hour head start on us, but we might be able to make up the difference.”

  “I’m so sorry, Sierra. I had…I didn’t…” Duke sputtered.

  “She’s just a baby,” Sierra said, tears streaming down her face.

  Duke wandered away, shaking his head. Elliot embraced Sierra and then examined her wound. “It’s a bit swollen and the skin’s broken, but it doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches. You might have a concussion, though. Come back inside and lie down. You need to rest.”

  She shook her head and winced at the pain. “No. I need to find Eve.”

  “There’s nothing you can do out here, Sierra. Arnold will take care of it.”

  He led her back into the cabin. Tim was huddled in a corner, knees to his chest, staring at Elliot with eyes the size of golf balls. Elliot gently laid Sierra down and took a step toward the boy. Tim stiffened and began shaking.

  “Tim, it’s over, and your mother needs help. I know it had to be scary, but they won’t be back to hurt you. You’re safe.”

  Tim continued to stare at Elliot, but stopped shaking. “Why did they take Eve?”

  Elliot frowned. “I don’t know, Tim. But we’ll find out.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “That makes two of us. Now come on. Stand up, and let’s get your mother some water from the creek so we can clean her up. Are those your jugs over there?” Elliot asked, pointing to two scarred blue five-gallon plastic bottles.

  Tim nodded.

  “Can you manage one if I carry the other?”

  “One of ’em’s half full already. We don’t need water.”

  “Let’s go fill the other one. You can help me.”

  When Elliot finished calming Tim down, he left mother and son and walked to where Duke was sitting by the fire pit, staring into space. When Duke heard Elliot’s boots crunching on the gravel, he looked up at him, misery radiating from his eyes.

  “I can’t believe how stupid I was. I mean…I…I believed her,” he said in a tortured voice. “I should have known. I should have. This is all my fault.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Duke. You couldn’t have known. I thought they were fine too.”

  “Beautiful woman like that and an old goat like me. Stupid. I was so damned blinded by her…”

  “You’re not that old. Wait until you get another twenty years under the bridge. Then you can award yourself that title.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Duke, she obviously had an agenda, and she tricked you. All that means is you’re human, and fallible.” Elliot frowned. “And she was a good actress.”

  “Got that right.” He sighed. “Poor Sierra. But…seriously. None of this makes any sense. Why kidnap Eve and shoot the guards? They just met her yesterday. It’s crazy.”

  “Not to them. All three of them were in on it, so we must be missing something.”

  Arnold arrived on horseback with another man. Duke looked up at them. “I’m coming too. Give me a minute to get my horse.”

  Arnold shrugged. “Time’s a-wasting.”

  Duke was back in a flash, and they took off down the trail. Arnold stopped after several minutes, hopped down from his horse, and studied some tracks in the dirt. “Three horses. They definitely came this way.”

  He swung back into the saddle, and they increased their pace. Half an hour later they came across fresh droppings covered by a swarm of flies. Arnold dropped from the saddle and put a finger in the feces, and then nodded. “Barely warm. They’re moving fast, but not that fast. Makes sense given the condition of the trail and riding with the girl’s extra weight.”

  Farther along the trail, a faint gunshot echoed from down the mountains, and a flock of birds took flight from the trees. They stopped as the sound reverberated, and Duke looked at Arnold. “What do you think that means?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  They continued along the track, pausing occasionally so Arnold could confirm they were still following the women’s trail. An hour passed and they reached a treacherous area where the rocks at the side of the narrow stretch were painted with a swath of rust-colored blood. Arnold and Duke dismounted and walked to the edge of the ravine and peered over. A horse lay fifty yards down the steep face, obviously dead.

  “Must have misstepped and broken its leg,” Arnold said.

  “Which will slow them down even more.”

  “First lucky break we’ve caught.”

  “Not for the horse.”

  Arnold walked along the trail and pointed to the tracks. “They’re two on one horse now. You can see the tracks are deeper, and there aren’t any footprints.”

  The sun blazed high overhead when the path changed fro
m gravel and dirt to rock and they reached a fork in the trail. Arnold spent several minutes studying the trails, and when he returned to where the men were taking a break in the shade, he shook his head.

  “No way to tell which fork they took,” he said. “At least not here. Maybe farther down if it goes back to dirt.” He eyed Duke. “You remember which one you took to get here?”

  Duke exhaled in frustration. “No. I used my compass for the most part. Remember I’m as new to this as the rest of you. Only time I ever took it was to go to the highway and set up the trading post, and to come back. Sorry.”

  “Then it’s coin-toss time. Which would you take if you were them?”

  Duke frowned. “They both look like they suck.”

  “That’s what I was thinking too. There’s no obvious one, and they both go downhill.”

  “Well, damn.”

  “Yup.”

  “Then I’d say go with the one on the right. Most people will choose a right turn over a left.”

  Arnold’s eyebrows rose. “Really? How do you know that?”

  Duke shrugged. “That’s what I’d do.”

  “Good an answer as any, I suppose.”

  They watered the horses and forked down the right trail, and had to slow further due to the conditions. It was late afternoon when Arnold held out his arm to stop the others.

  “Horse. About a quarter mile away.”

  He raised his binoculars to his eyes and then dropped them, his mouth a thin line. “Riders. Two women on one animal.”

  “You see what color their hair was?” Duke asked.

  “Couldn’t make it out.”

  “Any sign of Eve?”

  “No.”

  “Now what?”

  Arnold frowned. “Now we go after them. Looks like they spotted us.”

  The women’s horse had broken into a gallop and was tearing down the trail. The men gave chase and closed the distance. One of the women tried firing at them, but the shots didn’t come close, the odds of hitting moving targets while on horseback being worse than zero for any but the luckiest or the best.

  Duke and Arnold were a hundred yards from their quarry when the women’s horse lost its footing and sent them both flying from its back. It quickly righted itself and continued on at a gallop, leaving the women lying on the trail.