Refugees from the Righteous Horde (Toxic World Book 2) (22 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY

Jeb hit the dirt as bullets sang through the air all around. Muzzles flashed not far off in the dusk.

The New City and Burb fighters replied in an instant. Annette set off first one, and then the other of her shotgun barrels, while Jackson and Nguyen let loose on semiautomatic. Charley and Christina started firing with their rifles a moment later.

The quick reaction startled their attackers, and for a moment the fire slackened. Everyone took that chance to get out of the light of the campfire. Jeb grabbed Tanya’s AK-47 and leapt into the shadows.

Nguyen let out another burst and Jackson and Annette took that moment to advance a few steps before throwing themselves down. The others were out of sight. Jeb flicked the catch to semiauto and waited a moment. At Nguyen’s next sweep there was a spattering of return fire and Jeb squeezed off a three-round burst at one of the muzzle flares. Annette and Jackson popped up and ran a few more steps, firing and spreading apart from one another as they did.

These two have been in some firefights together
,
Jeb thought.

Jeb leapt up and fired off two bursts as he ran forward. Nguyen sprayed the area on full auto, and with the enemy putting their heads down from the swarm of bullets, Jeb, Annette, and Jackson advanced.

A bullet snapped in from the right and nearly got Jeb in the head as he dove for cover a third time.

Shit, they’re flanking us.

Jackson was in that direction, visible for a glaring instant as the muzzle of his gun flared. Jeb stayed put, AK leveled, waiting. When the enemy returned fire, Jeb squeezed off another three-round burst and was rewarded with the dim view of a shadowy figure twisting and falling. Keeping low, he ran in that direction, passing Jackson as the deputy resumed firing at the enemy to their front.

Jeb glanced at his magazine. It looked like a 24-round one.

Half out of ammo already.

More firing crackled further along the line but Jeb didn’t have time to worry about that now. If these people flanked them, forcing them back into the light around the campfire, they’d be cut down one by one.

Jeb got to the body. A glance showed him what he had suspected all along—one of the Elect, a man who he knew was bucking for a position in the bodyguard. A real hardcore believer.

Not anymore.

Luck was on his side and the dead man had an AK-47 gripped in his lifeless fingers. Jeb took a moment to rummage around the man’s pockets and find a spare magazine. He tucked it in his own pocket and hurried further away from the battle.

If anyone had seen him, they were dead or busy right now, because no bullets sought him out. The firing had reached a crescendo. From the sound of it, the cultists didn’t outnumber them.

He passed through some bushes and over a low rill in the ground. Getting down, he did a military crawl in a half circle to get further away and around the enemy position. The firing began to shift away from the camp.

The Elect are retreating.
Time to prove yourself a hero.

Jeb hurried as fast as he dared through the fading light. Twice he saw distant movement through the bushes, but he wasn’t sure who he was seeing so he held his fire.

He started cutting toward the center of the line as he sensed more than saw that one or two of the Elect were close. A shot from one of his side (Jackson? Not sure) made a man flail from his cover and fall writhing. That prompted a quick movement not far off. Jeb only got enough of a glimpse to see it was male before the figure was gone. Jeb kept low and ran a short stretch before going prone and crawling forward.

He stopped as he heard a sound. There were only a few bushes around, so the enemy was either prone like Jeb or hidden in a swale not far ahead.

It’s big enough that going in at the wrong spot will put me in a jam.

A slight scrape of metal on stone told him the enemy was indeed in the swale. He crept parallel to it for a moment, moving away from the camp, and then cut in.

He popped himself up over the edge enough to get a clear aim with his AK.

Not five yards in front of him crawled a member of the Elect, someone Jeb recognized but hadn’t bothered to get to know. The man was wounded in the shoulder and dragging his rifle behind him. The cultist spotted Jeb and froze. Jeb had the drop on him and he knew it.

A soft sound a little ways off in the direction of the camp told him he had to make a decision fast.

Option 1: Take him back to The Pure One. That maniac is desperate for a show of loyalty.

Option 2: Take him back to Annette and the rest. They could question him and find out where the column is headed.

Option 3: Shoot him now.

The Pure One would ask Jeb why he had disappeared. He could make up some bullshit about being captured on sentry duty, but there was a good chance no one would believe it. And even if they took him back, then what?

If we lean on this guy we’ll find out everything we need to know.
But what if he recognizes me? What’s to keep him from—

Option Three.

Jeb blew the side of the guy’s head open with a single shot.

A moment later Christina came up from behind a bush, rifle leveled.

“Nice shot,” she said, scanning the area down the length of the barrel.

Jeb moved across the center of the swale over to her. He figured coming out in the open would keep her from getting too antsy. She pointed with her rifle towards a cluster of three trees about fifty yards away.

“Saw movement there,” she whispered.

Jeb set the AK by Christina’s side.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You were about to put a gun to my head and order me to drop it. I decided to keep things friendly.”

Christina grunted in approval. “Keep it until we know they’re gone.”

Jeb nodded and picked it up again.

That’s what I was hoping you’d say.

They lay in silence watching the shadows for a time. Jeb worried about the darkness, which was deepening quickly. If they didn’t root out these guys soon they’d leave and come back with reinforcements.

Christina and Jeb split up about ten yards apart and inched forward.

They didn’t get far before a rifle cracked within the cluster of trees, aiming for Christina from the sound of it. Christina fired back and Jeb resisted the urge at the last moment. Instead he lunged forward a few yards. When the two exchanged fire again, he cut low and ran, forward and a bit away from Christina.

His move didn’t work, though, because the next shot came for him. It was wide enough that Jeb didn’t flinch and close enough to make him hit the deck. No point letting the guy get a second look at him.

Jeb squirmed ahead and found a low, oval rock. Getting behind it, he made sure his AK was set to single and popped up. A quick glimpse gave him enough time for a snapshot before he ducked back.

Silence. Jeb wasn’t fooled. He knew that had been a miss.

He eased around one side of the boulder and braced his gun. There wasn’t much underbrush here, but the trees were still twenty yards away at least. He couldn’t see a thing. The dry little clusters of twigs dazzled him in a subtle way, forcing him to focus on them. Jeb allowed his eyes to relax and focus further away, at the small spaces between those bushes.

He caught a hint of movement, a pale gray in the gathering blue-black. He fired.

Nothing.

A moment later Christina fired, from a lot closer to the copse than he would have given her credit for. A third shooter, from the copse’s flank, fired a three-round burst into the trees.

Jeb advanced, knowing the other two would do the same. That was the smart thing to do if they didn’t want this guy to get away, and these New City/Burbs folks knew what they were doing.

After about ten yards there was a shot from beyond the copse and a flicker of movement. By the time Jeb got a chance to aim the Elect had gone to ground. Jeb zeroed in on his position and within another five yards met up with Christina. They stayed apart and swept through the area, finding nothing. In the dim light they couldn’t see any tracks.

Jeb put in a fresh clip and switched back to semiauto. It was too dark for proper aiming. They hugged the earth, listening. Their patience was rewarded with the sound of movement behind a low rise. After a moment there was silence.

Christina and Jeb moved forward. Hopefully their companion was moving forward too, and was smart enough to know they weren’t the enemy.

The enemy fired, the flare of his rifle showing exactly where he was and where he was aiming—at their unknown companion. The Elect got a response in the form of a shotgun blast.

So it’s Annette. A bit far for your shotgun but maybe you winged him.

Annette fired again, and for a moment there was no response. Then they heard movement again.

By that time Jeb and Christina had gotten much closer, using the fire as cover for their advance.

Silence. They advanced more cautiously, coming to a low line of rocks that they didn’t dare go over. Instead they moved along them, stopping as they heard movement on the other side.

Jeb gave Christina a significant look, and in one fluid motion snapped his AK to full auto, got up on his knees with his gun over head and sprayed the area on the other side of the rocks. Christina sprang up a moment later and took out the Elect with a single shot.

“Nice shot,” Jeb said.

They looked at the body. The cultist was bleeding all over.

“Looks like you got him before I did,” Christina said.

Movement to their left made them turn. Annette’s whisper came out of the darkness.

“It’s me.”

Jeb dropped his weapon like it had suddenly become red hot. When the sheriff crawled out of the shadows she looked at him and asked, “What’s this?”

“He helped out,” Christina said.

The firing had died down. Annette strapped the AK to her back and said, “I think we got them all. Let’s sweep the area. If I think we’re going to get in more trouble, I’ll give you this back.”

Eventually they all got back together. The others had taken out a few more of the enemy but no one was sure if any got away or not.

“They retreated quick enough,” Jackson said.

“They wanted to take us out by surprise,” Jeb replied. “When that didn’t happen they decided to pull out. They’re going to warn The Pure One.”

“I bet the patrol was spotted and these guys were sent to find it. They found us instead.”

“If any survived they’re going to hightail it back to the main body and tell them we’re here, and a lot closer than we should have been. It won’t take long to figure out that we’re not headed for the pass, but following them.”

Annette looked into the darkness into which they had disappeared. “And they’ll come back with a lot more men. They won’t want us finding out where they’re going. They’re going to make sure to wipe us out this time.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Susanna awoke to voices. Opening her eyes, she saw she lay on a sofa in what looked like a living room. She had no memory of how she had gotten there. Daylight shone through clean glass. Her two guards from last night sat in chairs nearby. One looked at her and nudged his friend awake.

Susanna sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“Where am I?”

“Marcus Callahan’s house,” one of the guards replied. “You fell asleep at dinner. Practically did a faceplant into your stew.”

“Oh,” she said, yawning and stretching.

Marcus came into the room. “Ah, I thought I heard your voice. How did you sleep? We really shouldn’t have let you stay within the walls last night, but we couldn’t wake you and it seemed like poor hospitality to carry you to some shack in the Burbs.”

Marcus’ wife Rosie came in right behind him and treated Susanna to a wide smile.

“We’re just finishing up breakfast but we saved you some. You boys are welcome too, now that you’re up.”

The guards looked embarrassed for being caught sleeping on duty. They and Susanna rose. For a moment her head spun and she had to hold onto the edge of the sofa.

“You OK?” Marcus asked.

“Just a bit weak.”

“Rosie will fatten you up, don’t you worry.”

As they entered the dining area Susanna saw a blonde girl of about fourteen sitting at the table cleaning off the last eggs from her plate.

“This is Jessica,” Rosie said. “She’s staying with us for a while.”

“Good morning,” Susanna said as she sat down. Jessica gave her a shy smile in return. So this was The Giver’s daughter? She looked more like his granddaughter. Susanna wondered if the two were really related and decided it didn’t matter. In the wildlands people were whatever they said they were.

But why send this young girl to spy on New City?

Maybe because no one would suspect her, just like the people at Weissberg didn’t suspect me.

Rosie served up three heaping plates of eggs and toast and Susanna dug in. Jessica finished her breakfast and stepped away from the table to help Rosie in the kitchen. Susanna kept quiet and listened to their conversation, but it was only about common things. She noticed how the old woman’s face lit up every time Jessica called her “Aunt Rosie.” Jessica looked content as she cleaned the plates and helped tidy up the kitchen.

The two guards finished up and went to the washbasin to clean their hands. Jessica came over and served Susanna seconds.

“Eat slowly,” Jessica said, “Aunt Rosie says it’s not good to eat too quickly on such an empty stomach.”

“Thanks, you like it here?” Susanna asked.

Jessica’s face lit up. “Yeah, I love it. I used to live in the wildlands. Nasty out there.”

“You’re telling me,” Susanna smiled back.

Jessica looked embarrassed. “Oh! Sorry. I mean. . .”

“It’s OK. Everyone’s seen trouble.” Susanna glanced over Jessica’s shoulder. Rosie was clattering dishes and the guards were talking with their backs turned. She let her voice fall to a whisper. “I have a note for you.”

Jessica’s face changed in an instant. Her smile vanished, replaced with a frown and a hard gaze that made her look twice as old.

Speaking of trouble, it looks like I just gave you some. You don’t even need to ask who it’s from, do you?

With a visible effort, Jessica composed herself and turned lightly to Rosie.

“I’m going to take Susanna to my room and see if my old sweater will fit her, OK?”

Rosie beamed a smile at her. “Oh, how nice of you! Yes, you two run along.”

Susanna got up while Jessica went on, “You know, I think it might be a little short for you. I grew out of it last year. It’s awfully warm and with the winter. . .”

Susanna glanced at the guards. Like all men, they didn’t pay attention when women talked with each other unless they thought the women were talking about them.

Jessica took her by the hand and led her into a small alcove with a bed, a heap of dirty clothes on the floor, and a small stove of hammered tin.

“You even get your own heat,” Susanna said.

Jessica smiled. “Uncle Marcus installed it when I moved in.”

“He seems like a good man.”

“He is,” Jessica’s face hardened again as she extended a hand. “Give it to me.”

Susanna was taken aback. In this world it was common to see the young look old, but she had never seen a young person switch from old to young and back again.

Susanna reached into her inside shirt and pulled out the note. “Here.”

“Did you he ask you to deliver a reply?” Jessica asked.

“No. I don’t know if I’ll see him again. I’m not with him. He traded me some food and a radio to deliver this.”

“Well if you see him again, can you give him my answer?”

Before Susanna could say anything, Jessica turned, opened the stove, and pushed the unopened letter into the coals. The paper blackened and caught flame. Jessica closed the door to the stove and gave Susanna a defiant look.

The hard knot that had been wound up inside Susanna eased a little. She reached out a hand and put it on Jessica’s cheek. The girl jerked her head away.

“Everyone underestimates you, don’t they?” Susanna said. “The poor little girl from the wildlands. But there’s a lot going on behind that pretty face, isn’t there?”

Jessica’s expression softened. Just then Marcus burst into the room.

“What’s going on?” he asked, moving to Jessica’s side and putting a defensive arm around her.

“I, um, I was just finding a sweater for Susanna,” the girl explained.

Suspicion was replaced with a smile. Susanna was struck by how similar Marcus looked to his wife when he smiled.

“That’s nice of you!” he turned to Susanna. “You up for a trip?”

“Where to?” Susanna asked, already knowing the answer but not wanting to put it into words. Marcus did it for her.

“Back to Weissberg or whatever the hell he calls it. The Doctor wants to make sure. Sorry, but—”

“But you can’t trust the word of someone who marched with the Righteous Horde.”

Marcus looked embarrassed.

“You’ve been kind to me,” Susanna reassured him. “The first real kindness I’ve had in a long time. I’ll do what I can to help you. But I don’t have the strength to walk all the way back there. I got dizzy just getting to the table.”

Marcus shook his head.

“You don’t have to walk. We’re going to drive. And we’re leaving right now.”