At Any Cost (Book 3): Bleak Horizons

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At Any Cost (Book 3): Bleak Horizons Page 4

by Fawkes, K. M.


  He was just about to start assigning weapons and talking about the plan if and when the bikers from Helen Falls showed up when Elisa strolled into the group, carrying a basket in front of her like some character from a musical.

  “Apples,” she exclaimed. “I’ve just been out in the orchard and there were finally enough of them to pick. I thought they’d make the perfect afternoon snack. Perk everyone up after all the construction.”

  She gave Garrett a grin at the last sentence, and he grinned back, then strode forward to take one of the apples. He bit into it, allowing the juice to run down his chin, and closed his eyes in pleasure.

  He’d thought the orchards a waste of time when the townspeople first told him about them, given the lack of water and the heat. But now that the temperatures were dropping, the trees had started producing fruit from the buds and flowers he’d seen months ago.

  He wasn’t sure anything had ever tasted so sweet before.

  “It’s been so long since I’ve had anything fresh,” Alice moaned, licking her lips after her first bite. “Do you supposed this is what Heaven tastes like?”

  “Like apples?” Garrett asked, frowning at the fruit in his hand. “It couldn’t possibly. I mean, what if people get there who don’t like apples?”

  “And why would Heaven have a taste, anyhow?” Shawnee asked. “I don’t think you’re supposed to eat it.”

  Garrett’s shoulders shook with laughter at the boy’s observation. He was just turning to Alice to say something else when his body went still and cold at a sudden ruckus from the other side of town.

  “Those were gunshots,” Alice said quietly.

  And then they were running toward them, Garrett already drawing the handgun he always kept in his waistband.

  Chapter 5

  Garrett skidded to a stop at the corner where Main Street hit the edge of town and raked his gaze over the land in front of him. There should have been someone there, right in front of the pile of furniture and goods—and there wasn’t.

  Then, to his surprise, Greyson showed up at his left elbow.

  “What the hell are you doing back here?” Garrett huffed. “You’re supposed to be on watch!”

  Greyson, who seemed to have run from somewhere else, was huffing almost as hard as Garrett. “I let Ben relieve me,” he said quietly. “I’d been here for two hours and needed to use the bathroom. He’d come up to ask a question about the blockade, and I asked him to take the next watch. What’s going on? Who’s shooting?”

  Garrett looked back out into the square where Ben should have been. “That’s a very good question. And where exactly is Ben?”

  “Only one way to find out,” Manny said grimly from behind them.

  “So there is,” Garrett answered. He glanced one way, then the other, and began strolling forward into the square, leaving Manny, Greyson, and the rest of the crowd shocked at his audacity.

  A moment later, when no shots rang out, Manny and Greyson hustled forward to follow him. The three of them walked quickly through the square and out into the sand of the desert, this being a town that butted right up to the rocky desert, and it took Garrett only moments to see something ahead of them that wasn’t quite right.

  Ben, it seemed, was still alive. And he looked like he was struggling with something about one hundred feet ahead of them.

  Garrett broke into a run and dashed through the rocks and sand, avoiding cacti as he went, never taking his eyes off Ben, who he could now see was actually sitting on top of someone.

  “Who the hell is that?” Greyson muttered from behind him.

  Garrett grunted, not caring to waste breath on saying that he obviously didn’t know who that was. Then, to his surprise, he realized that he did recognize the guy. Skinny but lanky, with heavily tattooed arms and long, greasy hair tied behind his head in a ponytail. Yes, he was now squirming on the ground, Ben straddling his middle, but Garrett would swear that if the guy stood up, he’d be tall enough that Garrett would have to look up at him.

  It was the same man who’d stopped them when they first entered Helen Falls. The man who had joked with him and Bart, and then saved Alice from the man who’d gotten too familiar with her. The man who’d laughed when she sent that man to his knees in pain.

  His heart skipped at the confluence of events, the strange sense of knowing someone who shouldn’t be here, and a moment later he realized how complicated this was about to get. When they were in Helen Falls, he’d thought that this might be a good man who had found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. A man who might actually be worth something more than the biker gang he’d found himself aligned with.

  But if he’d attacked the people of Trinity Ranch, Garrett was going to have to rethink his opinion of the guy. And quickly. He also wasn’t going to be able to tell anyone that he recognized the man—or that he’d had generous thoughts about him. He was just starting to win the people over again. Admitting to having kind of liked someone from Helen Falls—even if it was true—would send them right back to Steve.

  Garrett jerked to a stop right next to Ben and the guy he was holding down, and bent over, his chest heaving. “What the hell is going on here?”

  Ben drew his fist back and punched the tattooed guy right in the chin, bringing the squirming to a sudden halt. Then he looked up at Garrett, Greyson and Manny.

  “Found this guy hiding around the side of one of the buildings,” he said. “Doesn’t take much to look at him and attach him to the Helen Falls crew. Doesn’t take a whole lot to go from there to thinking he’s probably a scout for them. Didn’t want him going back and telling them what we were doing.”

  At that, Garrett saw his opening. “You’re right about him being from Helen Falls,” he replied, dropping to his knees next to the men. “He’s the one who searched us when we went over there to return the tanker.”

  Suddenly the guy started squirming again, and Ben, surprised at the sudden activity, was nearly thrown off his body. He recovered quickly, grabbed the guy, and punched him in the face once, and then again. Garrett caught his hand when he was winding up for the third punch and glanced down at the guy on the ground.

  “We know who you are,” he said bluntly. “I can identify you, so there’s really no point in trying to keep it quiet. What are you doing here?”

  When the man opened his mouth, Garrett drew back his own hand, ready to let it fly.

  “The truth,” he muttered. “You’re in no position to try to get clever.”

  The man sucked his lips in, thinking, and eventually narrowed his eyes and nodded. “I know you. You’re the one who brought in that fake tanker. One who caused all the problems with the bikes.”

  Garrett drew his hand back again in a threatening manner and the biker put his hands up in front of him, shaking his head.

  “I don’t want no trouble, mister,” he said quickly. “Yes, I was a member of that gang. But I left them. I’m on my own now.”

  Well, that was interesting. Garrett had certainly thought the guy was too well educated for the biker gang when he’d met him before, so it didn’t seem to be out of the realm of possibility for him to have left them and struck out on his own.

  That didn’t mean Garrett could just believe him out of hand. No matter what he thought about him, personally. The man had been involved with that gang, and that made him suspect.

  He got to his feet, thinking quickly. “Take him to the schoolhouse,” he said to the others. “I’ve met him, and he seemed like a decent person then. Doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth right now, but I can see how it might be the case. He didn’t seem to fit with the biker gang, honestly. I can imagine him having decided to strike out by himself. What’s your name, kid?” He addressed this last question to the biker, still on the ground.

  “Lance,” the man croaked.

  “Lance,” Garrett replied. “We’re going to keep you prisoner, and I need you to tell me the truth about who you are and what you’re doing. If you’re telling the tr
uth, I see no reason to hurt you. If you’re lying to me…”

  He left that threat hanging, turned, and looked into the crowd that had gathered. “Shane, recruit someone to join you and stand watch while we handle this.”

  “You got it,” he replied.

  Garrett started back toward town, leaving Greyson and Ben to bring the prisoner with them. Manny fell into step right next to him, and a quick glance at his face made it clear that he wasn’t happy with Garrett’s decision to allow the prisoner to live.

  “I know what you’re going to say,” Garrett said quietly, turning his eyes back toward the town.

  “I bet you do,” Manny replied. “Probably because you realize just as well as me how dangerous this is. You’re bringing a viper back into the nest.”

  “I’m practicing mercy,” Garrett responded quickly. “The bikers would have straight-out shot any of our people. We’re not them. We’re not like they are. I’d like to think that we’re still human enough to at least give the man a chance to explain himself.”

  Manny let out a whisper of a laugh. “Guess that depends on what your definition of human is.”

  Garrett didn’t answer that statement. Manny had been in the military, and he’d been in General Green’s prison for weeks before Garrett showed up. Garrett didn’t really want to know about the things Manny had seen—the things that had made him lose his faith in humanity. That was Manny’s own personal baggage.

  Garrett counted himself lucky to be in a position of still at least hoping for the best from people—even people who had once been on the other side of the line.

  Half an hour later, Garrett had stopped thinking that any good was going to come of questioning their prisoner. Lance was tied to a chair in the basement of the schoolhouse, what was left of their supplies stacked up around him. He was bruised and bleeding from multiple punches to his face, and Garrett wondered if Manny had actually broken the man’s nose with that last one.

  Still, Lance’s story was the same.

  “I’m telling you the truth,” he said again, his voice muffled by the fact that his nose was now full of blood. “I heard a rumor about a big settlement of survivors down in Mexico. Heard tell they had farms and food, and that they were willing to take in anyone who came their way, long as they could hold their own and add to the community. Brought me hope, you know? I haven’t been part of something I actually believe in for so long that I’m starting to forget how it was.

  “I’d had enough of Kraken’s shit, had enough of the rules of that place and the constant fear that I was going to be the next man shot. So I decided I’d get myself out of there. Left in the middle of the night and started walking, and before long I found myself here.”

  Lance sniffled and then grimaced before continuing. “Didn’t want to just walk right into town and take you all by surprise, so I was waiting at the edge for someone to show up. So I could explain who I was, like. Suddenly this guy here”—he gestured at Ben with his chin, a scowl on his face—“starts shooting at me for no good reason, so I do what any smart man would do and start running. The next thing I know this guy is jumping onto my back, taking me to the ground, and trying to beat the crap out of me.”

  He cast a glance up at Garrett from underneath his lashes. “I was glad you showed up when you did. Figure he would have killed me if you hadn’t.”

  Garrett bit his lip, considering. The man had already said that he remembered Garrett, and it was becoming more and more obvious that he had noticed Garrett’s liking for him back in Helen Falls. That had probably looked even stronger when Garrett decided to bring him back for questioning rather than killing him outright. Lance was now milking it for all it was worth, trying to make himself out to be the victim.

  That didn’t mean Garrett was going to believe him. If Lance thought he was a sucker, he was about to have a rude awakening.

  Garrett paused, though, because he was damned if he could bring himself to disbelieve him, either. The fact was, everything coming out of Lance’s mouth sounded reasonable. Garrett had seen how Kraken treated those in his gang, and what he did to those he didn’t like. It hadn’t seemed a flexible or particularly rewarding way to live, and Garrett could imagine that for someone who had found himself there by mistake, perhaps, or said that he’d join and then started questioning himself…

  Well, Garrett himself had wanted to run, hadn’t he? He’d talked the whole town into it. He couldn’t blame Lance for having had the same idea. Particularly when there were stories about a place in Mexico that would be safe for those like them. A place where you could actually start to feel human again.

  “I don’t believe a word he’s saying,” Greyson muttered. “You’re not buying this, are you, Garrett?”

  Garrett bit his lip. “I’m of two minds, to be honest,” he said. “On the one hand, I can see someone having heard of the settlement in Mexico and thinking that it sounded like a pretty good destination. Hell, we were on our way there ourselves, at one point. Can’t blame a man for wanting to improve his station in life.”

  “And on the other hand, he’s from Helen Falls,” Greyson responded, his voice low and threatening. “Those men have been liars and bullies since we found out about them. Can’t see why we’d believe one of them now.”

  “Maybe we should just put a bullet in his brain,” a voice said suddenly from the other side of the room.

  Greyson, Manny, Ben and Garrett whirled around to see Steve lounging at the bottom of the stairs, his hands in his pockets, a cocky look on his face.

  “Y’all didn’t tell me we had a visitor,” he drawled. “Doesn’t sound like he’s welcome here, though.” He started walking forward, looking Lance up and down as he walked. “If he’s from Helen Falls, a bullet would be too good for him,” he snarled.

  Garrett put up a hand. “First of all, Steve, you weren’t invited to this particular party. What are you doing here?”

  Steve cast him a narrow-eyed glance. “Came down here to catalog how much water we have left,” he spat in Garrett’s direction. “Didn’t expect to find you four harboring a fugitive.”

  “He’s hardly a fugitive,” Garrett clarified, his blood steaming at the intrusion. Who the hell did Steve think he was, barging in here like this and interrupting their efforts? “And we’re not going to have any talk of shooting him, either. We’re not barbarians.”

  Steve stopped and puffed up his chest. “You calling me a barbarian, Garrett? Because if you are, you know it’s gonna cost you.”

  Manny put a hand on Garrett’s tense arm. “Ain’t worth it, Cap,” he said quietly. “I know how badly you want to do something about that, and believe me, I’d have your back. But it’s not worth the trouble. Let him go.”

  Garrett swallowed hard, working to get his temper under control, and finally blew out a slow breath. “Get back to the others, Steve,” he said quietly. “This is none of your business. If it comes to it and we decide to involve the rest of the town, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

  Steve glared at him for a moment, and Garrett decided at that moment to test him. See if the man really had what it took.

  “In fact,” he said quickly, pulling the gun from his waistband, “if you’re so tough, so set on doling out justice and being a leader…” He cast a look at Greyson, and then one at Manny. “How about you just take care of him for us?”

  Steve jerked to a stop, his face growing suddenly pale, and Garrett suppressed the grin he could feel at the corner of his mouth. Reaching toward Steve, he continued to offer the gun, turning it so that he was holding the nose and Steve could easily grab the handle.

  The other man took a step backward, shaking his head.

  “You know, I, uh, thinking about it now… you’re probably right. Better to get as much information out of him as you can. I’ll leave you fellows to it.”

  Turning, he practically ran up the steps.

  Garrett watched him go, a strange urge to laugh bubbling up in his chest, and then turned ba
ck to the others. He caught Greyson’s eye and saw the same laughter there, repeated again in the faces of Manny and Ben.

  “And that’s the man who wants to be leader,” he muttered. Looking to Lance, he turned his mind back to the matter at hand. “Doesn’t mean I think he’s wrong,” he said ominously. “I still don’t trust you.”

  He glared at Lance, wishing he had some way of knowing whether the man was telling the truth. Wishing he knew whether he could trust him. If he was trustworthy, perhaps he could tell them what had happened back at Helen Falls. Whether Riley and Bart had been killed—or whether they’d even been found yet.

  The men moved further to the side of the room so Lance couldn’t hear them.

  “Wouldn’t be hard to put a bullet in his head and just let that be that,” Manny observed, his voice low.

  But Garrett shook his head. “And what? If he is a scout, and we kill him, Kraken and the others will be even angrier. It’ll increase the chance that they come at us before we’re ready. If they’re holding Bart and Riley, they could do something to them in retaliation. They could make it a hell of a lot harder for us to eventually get out of here. Killing him might solve one problem, but it’ll open up a range of others.”

  “So what do we do?” Ben asked.

  Garrett felt as if they were stuck in some sort of gangster movie, where they were talking about how to bury a body or something. This entire scene had a haze of fantasy over it, like it couldn’t actually be happening. His next words only added to the surreal atmosphere.

  “Blindfold him,” he said. “Take him out of town and keep walking until the ranch is out of sight, then point him in the direction of Mexico. If he’s truly on his way there, then no one has to get hurt.”

  “What?” Greyson exploded. “You’re just going to let him go?”

  Manny put a hand on Garrett’s shoulder. “Garrett, this is madness,” he said. “You can’t just turn him free. Not when we don’t know what he’s doing here—or whether he’ll go back to Kraken and tell him what we’re up to.”

 

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