Refugees from the Righteous Horde (Toxic World Book 2) (23 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

After a cold night with no fire, and a hasty but anguishing burial of Tanya’s body under a cairn of stones, they hurried on. With them they took all of the Elect’s spare ammo, an AK for Jeb that he didn’t get to carry, and a rifle for Annette.

The rifle was a good addition. Her shotgun didn’t have the range for this sort of fighting. While it had ruled over Roy’s bar, out in the wildlands it was no match for a rifle or an AK.

Sadly, the rifle didn’t have a scope and the mount for this rifle didn’t fit the scope she had on her
Dakota T-76 Longbow. She was still left with a single bullet with which to take out The Pure One from a distance.

But that wasn’t what was bothering her. They’d been on foot for less than twelve hours and they’d already lost a member of the party. Annette didn’t know Tanya very well, but she had been a law-abiding resident of the Burbs every winter for several years now. She was also the tracker and guide for this mission.

Annette wiped away tears and tried not to blame herself for Tanya’s death, but as the leader of this posse, Tanya’s death was her responsibility.

The best thing you can do for her is to complete the mission
,
Annette told herself, and felt her uncertainty drain away.

Yeah, be cold, be calculating, be all the things you hated about yourself when you
were a scavenger out in this fucking place.

Annette gritted her teeth and shoved those thoughts aside. Introspection and self-blame got you nowhere in the wildlands.

They had spread out in a line, heading south in the hope of finding the tracks of any survivors from the previous night’s firefight. Nguyen was pretty sure he saw someone get away, and that seriously worried Annette. Taking out The Pure One would be hard enough even if he wasn’t prepared. If he did know they were coming it would be impossible.

They’d walked half the morning and hadn’t found any tracks. This was just as Annette worried it would be. Tanya might have found tracks, but she lay under a cairn a few miles back.

Annette spotted a rocky hill a mile off to the east.

“Let’s get on top of that and check out the area,” she called to the others.

When they got back together Nguyen said, “They could have a sentry up there.”

Annette shrugged. “Then we should take him out. We’ll go up the hill in two groups from opposite sides. Jeb, you’re with me, and no, you don’t get your AK until we’re under fire so don’t ask.”

The machete man grinned at her. Then she noticed that his blanket was rolled up strangely. It looked too thick.

“Hey, what’s that in there?” she demanded.

“Oh this?” he grabbed the bedroll. Annette and Christina raised their rifles.

“Damn, you chicks are fucking paranoid,” he snorted, dropping the blanket. It fell open and Annette saw the branch inside.

“For the bat,” Jeb explained. “You left it in the four-by-four. I guess it could have gone back with Rachel but I figured it would be better for you to give it to him yourself.”

Annette cocked her head. Was he sucking up or trying to make good? As much as she fit the description “paranoid chick,” as this guy so eloquently put it, she couldn’t help but feel that he really did want to give Pablo a present.

And why not? When was the last time he got to he got to play with a child?

And when was the last time Pablo got attention from a man who was the right age to be his father?

Annette glanced at the hill.

Mission.

“Stow that and let’s go,” she told him.

They took the hill from two sides and found it unoccupied. Once on top, Annette pulled out her sniper’s rifle. Jeb let out a low whistle. Annette looked at him.

“That was for the rifle,” he said. “Um, not that you’re not, ah, never mind.”

Annette shook her head and looked through the scope. She did a slow scan of the area.

After a minute she saw what she feared—a lone figure more than a mile ahead of them, making good time across the plain.

“There he is,” she said.

Nguyen raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes and spotted him too.

“Good, there’s only one. Let’s see what that gun of yours can do.”

Annette felt herself blush.

“Best to save my shots for The Pure One.”

“But if he gets away you won’t have that chance,” Nguyen protested.

“If we hurry we can catch him.”

“But—”

“Decision made. Let’s go.”

Annette tried not to look at them as she put away her rifle. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see them staring. Without another word she hustled them down the far side of the hill and headed after the retreating figure.

It took them until past noon before they caught up with him, and they caught up with him at the best possible place—a flat, open stretch of sandy soil almost devoid of vegetation.

He saw them coming and put on speed. The posse paced him, Jeb trailing behind and looking tired.

Must be still be a bit weak from lack of food
,
Annette thought
.
Looks like this asshole up ahead is too.

After another ten minutes, in which they closed the distance to about a thousand yards, their quarry must have realized he wasn’t going to make it to safety. Abruptly he turned and fired a single shot from his AK-47.

Everyone ducked. The shot went wide.

Annette held the looted rifle. As the Elect member squeezed off another shot, she stood. He was a young man, perhaps in his early twenties, with a thin face that even at this distance shone visibly with sweat. Annette couldn’t see his expression but his whole body language spoke of panic. He fired again, even though he had little chance of hitting at that range.

The bullet hummed by, not far off. Annette’s estimation of this guy’s aim went up a notch. It also reminded her that they were well within the AK’s lethal range.

Annette let her breath out slowly. There was no wind. She aimed for the center of his chest.

“Sorry. You’re a danger,” she whispered.

She fired. As the rifle bucked she saw a flare of red.

“Damn,” Jeb’s voice said behind her.

Annette checked that the target was down before turning to Jeb. He was standing bent, hands on knees, trying to catch his breath.

“You OK?” she asked.

“Takes a while to recover from starvation. Let’s check him out.”

They advanced cautiously. The rest of the group spread out to either flank. As they drew near they saw he had a chest wound but was still moving.

Jeb leapt forward, pulling the branch out of his backpack and raising it over his head.

“Wait!” Annette shouted.

Jeb swung down, connecting with the man’s forehead just as he struggled to his elbows. The man smacked back to the ground. Jeb hit him again, and a third time until everyone heard the skull crack.

“Damn it, I wanted to question him!” Annette shouted.

Jeb turned to her, red-faced and panting. He struggled to regain his composure and said, “Um, sorry. I was afraid he was going to grab his gun.”

“There was no danger of that,” Annette said.

“You didn’t have to be a slave for these guys. I saw him and saw red.”

“He could have given us valuable information,” Annette said. She didn’t like seeing helpless people killed, even when they were a threat.

Nguyen said, “The guy was a fanatic. He would have just lied to us anyway.”

Jeb turned to him and nodded. “Yeah, a fanatic. No need to question any of them.”

Annette shrugged. As she looked around she discovered that this dead man had told them everything they needed to know—his tracks led to a wide band of footprints left by a large group that had passed this way heading south. Annette crouched down and examined the footprints. They were less than a day ahead.

Annette turned to Jeb. “Moving south, just as you said they would.”

He nodded. “Headed towards the southern city.”

Sliding another cartridge into her rifle, she stood and looked at the rest of the group—so few against so many.

“Let’s go. Tonight is The Pure One’s last night on earth.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Jeb had a horrible feeling this was all going to end badly. Annette’s refusal to take that member of the Elect out with her sniper’s rifle led to only one explanation—she was short on ammo. A lot of the rare models had ammo trouble. Nguyen was probably getting short too, despite what he said.

And they were short one gun now, thanks to that ambush.

That was a shame. Tanya seemed like a cool chick, not as hot as Annette but probably a good one to guard your back. Just bad luck that she got killed with the first shot.

So now there were four of them plus him, against at least a couple of hundred gunmen who weren’t dumb enough to think they were safe. It wouldn’t be long before they realized their scouting party wasn’t coming back, and then they’d send out a bigger one or, if The Pure One was even more paranoid than he had been when Jeb had ditched that crew, the whole force might turn around and coming looking for them. In that case five guns wouldn’t last long.

He realized he still had all his options open to him.

Option 1: Bug out at nightfall. He had a pack of food and some basics like a blanket and firestarter. He could survive. In fact, he could go back to where they had cached those weapons and take them. There was no ammo but a quick trade would get him some. He could make a new start.

Option 2: Bug out at nightfall and turn these people over to The Pure One.

Option 3: Go on with this group.

He surprised himself by not really considering Option 2. It had come to him by reflex, and he had dismissed it almost by reflex as well. Why?

It wasn’t only because he didn’t want to join forces with those maniacs again. No, he just couldn’t stab these people in the back. He didn’t want to see Charley and Nguyen crucified because of him, and he sure as hell didn’t want to see Annette and Christina dragged off to the bodyguard’s camp. Of course those two wouldn’t let that happen. They’d go down fighting, but he didn’t want to see them dead either. Not even Christina, the suspicious bitch.

No, he may not be on the side of New City and the Burbs, but he wasn’t against them anymore.

That left Options 1 and 3. Option 1 was the safest, but that little show he put on about being tired wasn’t all show. He’d been run ragged these past couple of months with damn little food to keep him going. Option 3 would lead to a firefight, and what if they got a prisoner like Annette wanted? It could be someone who recognized him. Good thing he smacked down Billy Sanders with the branch before that motherfucker saw who he was.

You want to live to a hundred? Option 1, buddy.

Still, to lose New City. . .

You don’t have New City.

There’s always a chance. Hell, why not the Burbs? A job, friends, maybe a woman, someone who actually wanted him. A dry place to live, no fighting.

Baseball.

Both options were on the table. He’d just have to see how things shaped up.

They made slow progress that afternoon, keeping to rough terrain and as much cover as they could find. The trail was obvious to anyone, though, and they had no trouble following it.

Dusk found them in a little hollow where they could light a fire without it being seen. Nguyen was on first watch, lying on top of a flat rock that overlooked the hollow. They wouldn’t be caught by surprise again.

As they warmed up some corn cakes and ate their rations of pemmican, Jeb took the branch out of his pack. He’d picked a good one. The wood was strong with no fissures or knots. It would make a fine bat. He felt disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to present it to Pablo himself.

“Might as well get started on it,” he muttered to himself. Out loud he said, “Hey anyone got a knife I can use? I was to start carving this.”

Annette furrowed her brow. “You’re still going to make a bat with it after braining that guy?”

“I’m shaving that part off.”

Annette snorted.

“Come on, lend me a knife. If I make a wrong move Christina will shoot me.”

“Damn right I will,” Christina said from the opposite side of the fire. She drew her pistol and held it as she ate one-handed. “But I don’t think you’ll cause trouble.”

Jeb grinned at her. “Yeah, and you’re keeping that gun out all the same.”

Christina grinned back.

Annette stepped over to him and handed him a knife. Jeb blinked it surprise. It was Leonard’s clasp knife.

“You stopped this from being planted in my back,” Annette said. “I figure you won’t put it there yourself. Keep it. No one should be in the wildlands without a knife.”

Christina shot Annette a concerned look but said nothing.

Jeb set to work. First he shaved off all the bark and gave the bare wood a thorough examination by the light of the fire. Yes, this was good wood. It would make a real cracker. He started shaving off more, turning it in his hands to keep the cuttings even.

He noticed Annette watching him.

“You look like you know what you’re doing,” she said.

Jeb nodded. “My dad taught me how to make them. Every kid in our settlement had one. I’m surprised no one is making them in New City.”

“I guess no one knows how.”

“Hey, you know how to make vehicles run and how to keep your kids safe. That’s more than we figured out.”

Jeb shaved another long strip off the wood. Leonard had kept a keen edge on his knife and it cut well.

“But you’re not going to have time to finish it,” Annette said.

Sadness dampened him. He looked down at the bat.

“No,” he said in a soft voice, “but I’ll make a good start. Someone back in New City can do the rest. Rachel and her husband, whatshisname, they have a machine shop. I bet they got a lathe in there. They can finish it in no time. I’ll leave you some instructions.”

Annette fell silent. For a time the only noise was the crackling of the fire and the sof
t
sssh
t
of his knife whittling wood. A calm came over him, something akin to peace. It had been a long time since he’d sat by a campfire whittling. He and Dad always used to do that together after a day’s work in the field. They made handles for tools and kitchen implements and furniture and all sorts of stuff. Dad had shown him how to find the best trees and cut with the grain and how to bring out the form hidden inside the wood.

That all ended when the bandits came. He’d only been twelve at the time, old enough that he thought he could help defend the settlement. When Dad grabbed the old shotgun they had, Jeb had grabbed an axe and together they joined the others as the bandits poured into their hamlet.

It was all over in a few minutes. Jeb was hit over the head with the butt of a rifle and knocked unconscious. When he came everyone was either dead or, in the case of some of the women, missing.

And so he gathered up a few things the bandits left behind and headed into the wildlands.

Jeb bit his lip. It was a hard world and summoning up bad memories only made it harder. He liked to think about the times before. Although Mom had died of cancer when he was very young, he still had memories of her singing to him by the fireside, and he had all those memories of Dad.

Life had been hell for so goddamn long but at least he had some good times at the beginning. No kid should grow up without some of those memories.

He whittled another strip off the wood.

Nguyen’s voice came out of the darkness. “Hey guys, come up here and look at this.”

Jeb and the others went up to the rock on which Nguyen was keeping watch. As they got there Jeb realized he had taken the knife with him and no one had objected.

He and everyone else immediately saw why Nguyen called them up there.

In the distance there was a red glow of a large fire. Not the diffuse glow of many campfires, but the hard glare of burning buildings.

The Righteous Horde had found a settlement.

Jeb’s stomach turned. He sat slumped down on the rock by Nguyen.

Annette looked through the scope of her Dakota.

“A few buildings, not many miles off,” she reported.

“We got to save them,” Jeb said, realizing how stupid his words sounded as soon as he said them. Visions of what was going on flashed before his eyes. He tried not to think about how much he had participated in so many scenes like those.

“Save them? There’s no way we can save them,” Charley said. “They’re probably all dead already.”

“What I don’t get is why they’re burning the buildings,” Annette said. “Nobody burns shelter.”

Jeb shook his head. “We, I mean, they never did that on the march. Only with that village on Toxic Bay because it was unclean.”

“Maybe these folks were living on some unclean land?” Nguyen suggested. “That would fit in with The Pure One’s ideas of cleansing the Earth.”

Jeb shook his head again. “Look around. There’s plenty of good land. No need to live near any chemical spills. No, he’s making an example. He’s gotten crazier. The defeat, the coup we tried to pull, and who knows what else since then. The guy’s paranoid. No telling what he’ll do next.”

Annette shouldered her rifle. “He won’t get to do anything next. Everybody get ready to march. We’ll set up near their camp and take him out at dawn.”