The Day After Never - Retribution (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 4) (5 page)

Lucas nodded to them and fit his hat into place.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Two more of the wounded didn’t make it,” Elliot replied, his tone dispirited.

“Always a risk.”

“Yes. But it’s one thing to risk, another to lose.” Elliot sighed. “We were just discussing where to bury them.”

Lucas checked his watch. “Have to be by the side of the road. We don’t have a lot of time if we’re going to make it to Pagosa by nightfall.”

Arnold grunted. “I’ll get some shovels.”

“And I’ll rouse the gang so we can get under way when we’re done,” Michael said.

The soil was hard as brick, and the burial took forty-five minutes even with three men working hard. When the remains of the pair were interred, the survivors stood in a ragged semicircle around the freshly turned earth mounds, and Elliot said a heartfelt prayer. The gathering murmured an
amen
, and then Elliot raised his head and addressed the crowd.

“Even as we head to a new home, a new beginning, the hardships follow us. It was my decision to transport the wounded. I take full responsibility. Believe me when I say that a part of me was just buried as well.”

Sarah, the doctor, laid a hand on his shoulder. “There was nothing you could have done, Elliot. They wouldn’t have lasted the week no matter what you’d done. They were both very badly wounded.”

Elliot nodded, too choked up to speak, and Arnold cleared his throat. “Let’s load up. We need to get some miles under our belt before the heat rises.”

The group dispersed and made its way to the buses. Sierra took Lucas’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I hope this was the right decision. Seems like death follows us wherever we go.”

Lucas looked into her eyes. “That’s the world we live in. We didn’t ask for it, but we’ll damn sure deal it out when it comes looking.”

“I just wish we could catch a break.”

Lucas shook his head ruefully. “Afraid this
is
the break.”

The engines started again and the procession rolled forward through the inch of sand that covered the road, only a few rusting vehicles impeding their progress as the sun ascended overhead. The grade steepened when they entered the mountains, and the landscape grew green and lush, with pine trees appearing along the route, fronted by tall grass billowing in the wind.

When the first horse trailer motor coughed several times and then stalled, Lucas was unsurprised. He glanced down at the odometer and braked.

“How are you boys doing?” he called to the drivers from his window.

“On fumes,” the first said. The others echoed the news. Lucas stepped from the Humvee and strode to the nearest bus. He climbed aboard to look at the fuel gauge and then shook his head.

“We knew this would happen. The good news is we’re only twenty or so miles away, tops. The bad news is we can’t run the trucks dry – they’d leave a trail even a blind man could find, and it would be only a matter of time before we attracted the wrong kind of attention,” he said to Elliot, whose bulk filled the doorway as the passengers looked on. Lucas turned back to the faces staring at him. “So this is it. Everybody out. We’ll off-load the horses and find somewhere we can ditch the trucks where they won’t be obvious.”

Lucas pushed past Elliot to where Arnold was waiting at the roadside, one hand shielding his eyes from the glare. “Arnold, help me siphon a gallon for the stopped trailer so we can get it off the road.” He paused. “You see anywhere promising we can leave these rigs?”

Arnold nodded and pointed to his right. “Looks like there’s a drop there. Might want to ride over and see how far down. Best would be if the trucks wound up where nobody would find them for a long time. Weather should take care of the rest.”

“Got to get the horses off the trucks anyway. Probably itching to stretch their legs,” Lucas agreed.

“This is their chance.”

They made their way to where six men, including Duke and Aaron, were unloading the animals, and claimed their mounts. A short ride south yielded no love – the gulley there was too shallow to conceal the remains of the column. It was to the west of the highway that they hit pay dirt – a steep gorge with the remains of a fire access road running along its crest.

Lucas and Arnold exchanged a satisfied look and rode back to the trucks. When everything had been off-loaded, they directed the drivers to the area they’d found and instructed them to use heavy stones to hold down the throttles in first gear and then jump clear of the vehicles at the edge of the drop.

The process took fifteen minutes, and the only evidence left when they were through was a curl of black smoke from one of the buses. Lucas checked the time as Tango ambled alongside the drivers trudging back to the road – it would be tough, but they could make it to Pagosa Springs by night if they pushed.

The wounded were loaded onto carts along with the precious equipment from the lab and machine shop, and they continued up the paved grade after the two Humvees, the horses trailing the vehicles in a line. Colt studied Lucas’s profile while he negotiated the twisting route and frowned. “Think we’ll make it without running out of gas?”

Lucas tapped the fuel gauge and nodded. “We should. That’s one of the things we’ve called right so far.”

“Let’s hope we’re also right about Pagosa. With the wounded and all the gear, we don’t have a lot of good options.”

“True. And there’s going to be logistical issues once we arrive. I’ve never been there, but if there’s a road running through it, we won’t be able to hide out like you did in the valley. Eventually someone will stumble across it, and we’ll need a coherent response.”

Colt smiled. “That’s what Arnold’s for.”

Lucas wiped a bead of sweat from his cheek and sat back in the driver’s seat, the landscape crawling by at a snail’s pace. “Better him than me.”

“What do you make of the ex-Crew guy? Luis?”

Lucas considered his next words, which were guarded. “So far, so good.”

“I don’t like him. There’s a jailhouse stink to him.”

Lucas nodded. “He’s no saint. But he seems to be pulling on the oars with us. That’s what counts, right?”

Colt stared through the side window, lost in thought. When he turned toward Lucas, his voice was low. “For now.”

Chapter 7

Elliot called a halt to the trip as it got dark. Their destination was still several hours away, but the ride was more arduous than they’d expected, due to the elevation and the amount of weight the horses were hauling. The survivors once again pitched camp by the side of the road with an armed Humvee facing in each direction and a sentry on guard, spelled every three hours, to enable them to sleep.

They’d lost one more injured fighter that afternoon, and the group offered a brief prayer while the sun dropped behind the mountains, heads bowed as the air cooled in the gloaming. When they were done, the mood was somber, and they ate and spoke in hushed tones, extinguishing their small fires quickly once their rations had been warmed.

Lucas spent a restless night tossing and turning, his dreams filled with nightmarish visions of those he’d killed. When he finally dragged himself from his tent at dawn, his eyes were red and the shadows beneath them pronounced. He glanced around at the dense ground fog that gave the impression they were floating in a cloud and inhaled the crisp mountain air to clear his head. After a brief meal washed down with water, his melancholy cleared and he was ready to go. He spent a few minutes with Tango, smoothing his mane and whispering to him, and then waited by the Humvee with his kit packed while the rest of the party prepared to mount up.

Sierra approached, gave him an appraising look, and shook her head. “Tough night?” she asked.

“I’ve had better.”

“Well, it’s almost over. We’ll be there soon, right?”

“Should be there in a couple hours.”

His guess proved optimistic; the final leg took closer to three. When they turned off the highway at a faded stone sign welcoming them to Pagosa Springs, he exhaled in silent relief and managed a small smile for Eve, who was peering through her window with an expression of wonder at the San Juan River. The column crossed the river over a bridge, and Lucas spotted a pair of riders awaiting their arrival at the far end of the main street. One of the men waved his rifle overhead, and Lucas increased his speed slightly, mindful of the animals in tow.

He stopped when he reached the scouts and leaned his head through the open window.

“Morning.”

The older of the two nodded. “It’s a nice one.”

“You find a good area to off-load our gear?”

“Couple.”

“Lead the way.”

He followed the scouts to a pair of resorts near the river and shut the engine off to conserve what little fuel remained. A sign on the closest announced a hot springs spa and restaurant. Lucas stepped down from the Humvee with Sierra and Eve in tow as Elliot approached from the other vehicle, eyes on Colt. The scouts dismounted, and one of them approached Lucas.

“We set up in that one,” the man said, pointing at the resort on the riverbank. “Water’s unbelievable. And the place is really nice, even after all these years.”

Elliot nodded. “Lovely. But we can’t all fit in those two buildings.”

“True. But we searched some of the houses – most of them are in decent shape. With a little work, we should be able to rehab them and they’ll be fine.”

“And the lab and hospital?” Elliot asked.

The scout pointed at a nearby building. “The post office will work for the hospital, I think. For the lab…there are a number of places that will do the trick. Probably the community center just over yonder would be the best, but it’s up to you. There are plenty of places to choose from.”

Michael neared with Arnold, who was surveying the approaches to the area with a seasoned eye.

Elliot turned to them. “Well? What do you think?”

“I’ll have to look it over some, but it’s promising,” Arnold admitted. “We can block the entry road with the vehicles and some barricades, and set up defense points.”

“That was my instinct as we rolled through town,” Elliot said. “And you, Michael? What say you?”

“Not as secluded as the valley, but it’ll do.”

Elliot returned his attention to the scout. “And the geothermal plant? Where is that?”

“Outside of town, on the way to the airport.”

Terry called out from beside the second Humvee. “Airport! Are there planes?”

The scout shrugged. “Didn’t look, tell you the truth.”

“What? Sacrilege!” Terry turned to Ruby. “You know the first order of business for me.”

She smiled. “I can guess.”

Elliot clapped his hands, suddenly animated, the slumped shoulders and defeated air from earlier gone. “Everybody! Gather ’round.”

When the survivors were all within earshot, he studied them with approval and spoke in his orator’s voice. “It is a big day for us – we’ve found our new home, delivered safe and sound, and with a little elbow grease we can make it into something magnificent. All of you have sacrificed so much for this cause, and it’s heartening that we’ve been rewarded with an oasis of plenty in this barren world. Join me in giving thanks to the Lord for leading us here, and let’s ask for His blessing in our new life in our own private Eden.”

Elliot led the prayer, and when he was done, he snapped into business mode, handing out assignments, delegating duties, and dividing the survivors into groups. Once he’d issued instructions, he left with Craig to inspect the community center and, after that, the geothermal plant.

Lucas watched him trundle off with a bemused smile. Sierra took his hand.

“Feel like going house shopping? We should try to pick a good one before they’re all gone,” she suggested.

“Sure. Not much on this side of the river. But I saw some promising places across the water.”

“Let’s see what we can find.”

Lucas asked Duke to feed and water Tango and Nugget while they went in search of suitable lodging, and he, Sierra, and Eve walked together, their shadows preceding them across the overpass that bridged the river. They passed a commercial area and several churches and made for a cluster of homes.

Sierra nixed the first two based on their appearance, but smiled when she appraised the third – a ranch house that, in her words, looked “cozy.”

Lucas led her to the front door and tried the knob. “Open,” he said, unslinging his M4. “Wait here.”

“I thought the scouts said there’s nobody here.”

“Just in case.”

He pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold. A film of dust blanketed the furniture, but there were no broken windows or evidence of water damage, telling him that the roof was probably sound. Lucas checked each of two smaller guest bedrooms, the closets still full of clothes, and paused outside what was clearly the master at the end of the hall. The hair on his arms stood up and a chill ran along his spine.

He eased the door open. The room was gloomy, the curtains drawn, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The bed was made, the room as neat as though a housekeeper had recently been through it, except for the skeleton sitting in an easy chair by the window, its sightless eye sockets fixed on the curtains.

Lucas took cautious steps across the hardwood floor and stopped by the chair. A Smith & Wesson revolver on the planks beside the skeleton told the story, not that the gunshot holes in the skull left any doubt. Whoever this was – male, by the looks of the clothes – had called it quits by taking his life, either because he was sick or just couldn’t stand living any longer.

Lucas leaned over, scooped up the weapon, slid it into his belt, and retraced his steps through the house to the entrance.

“Well?” Sierra asked.

“It’ll do. But I need to clean up the prior occupant in the master. Probably want to keep Eve out of there while I do, unless you want a lot of sleepless nights.”

Sierra grimaced. “Bad?”

Lucas shook his head and looked over to where Eve was playing in the yard. “Won’t take long. Go on in and have a look around, but stay out of the room at the end of the hall.”