Bone Dust & Beginnings (Alexa's Travels Book 1) (8 page)

Satisfied, the horseman moved off to do as he was told. It was a hard new life, but one he already wouldn’t trade for anything.

Alexa looked over the battle scene, calculating how long it would be before the rats would be back. Even considering Corbin’s previous pattern of behavior, it was still hard to guess. The Commander wasn’t as lethal as her, but he was clever, and it was those people who often managed to come out on top in the end.

“I won’t let that happen.” Alexa’s voice was like a wave of fire cutting through ice. “My father and I know what to do with the likes of you!”

Alexa reholstered her Colts, and went to help Edward prep their new man for his first day of travel. They had a long road ahead.

August, 2016

1

When they reached the bend of the Little River, the sight of the small outpost gave no comfort that what Alexa had come for was here.

River City hadn't existed before the War. Set near the back hatch of NORAD, the town had begun as a refugee camp that was wiped out by foreign invaders and then rebuilt. A few months later, it was destroyed again by the emerging government, who'd also come searching for what was left. River City had been rebuilt a second time, after the volcanic eruption of 2013 that had coated everything with ash, trapping refugees inside for weeks at a time. The population had taken another large hit, but the town had remained.

It now boasted seven businesses inside real wooden frames and nearly twice as many slanted, prone-to-collapse homes made from scavenged debris. The people had adjusted, but it was not a place of prosperity. Few groups of people remained this far west.

The thought of finding what she needed was distant in her mind as Alexa and her small army moved toward the dusty town that had no chemical barrier. There was no pull this time, no sense of being drawn, but with the one she’d come for, there wouldn’t be. Calculated guessing was all that had brought her to River City.

The fighters been on the road together for countless adventures already and their movements were smooth, matched. The four men paced her long stride exactly, and Alexa was proud of the small herd she'd gathered. Today, if she were lucky, there would be a fifth fighter - the Magician.
The rats that stayed on their trail had planted a number of trackers with well-aimed darts, but Alexa already sensed that, too, was on purpose. Corbin didn’t want her recaptured, only traceable all the way to Safe Haven. They needed another inside man so she would be free to kill the one-eyed Commander.

A small movement in the distance caught the attention of Edward, the one who had been with her the longest.
He wore his rugged good looks proudly now, unlike when they’d first met. His full lips and hard jawline no longer hinted at how unstable he’d been before joining her quest.

"Dust whirls.
Too low for a storm."

Her voice was tightly laced with approval, "How many riders?"

Edward studied, "At least five, maybe with spare mounts."

"Coming to River City?" Billy asked softly.

He had massive hands and thick forearms that had killed upon her orders and were ready to do so again.
Each of her fighters had been gathered in the same fashion. Only the settings, the reasons for their despair, were different.

"Aye.
Mind your six, my pets. And remember your lessons."

Alexa increased her pace, wanting a safe cushion of time in town before the riders came. She wasn't sure why, but there had been too many battles won on instinct alone to ever ignore it. "Watch form."

The males moved into a rotating pattern around her billowing cloak as she scented the air. The town looked abandoned, and Alexa used her senses to evaluate, relentlessly searching for danger. Her first crew might survive, if she were careful enough…

The air was thick with watery rot - no smoke, no sweat - just decay. It tasted no better, harsh with the chemicals still lingering even now.

At that thought, she drew up enough saliva to spit.
The dust had settled, thanks to the late night rain, and the hardpan under their feet was parched.
They could also hear the angry roar of the river, one of the few normal sounds in Afterworld, but it was no more upset than usual.
For such as this world got, things were calm.

If not for that slightly closer dust whirl in the distance, she might have suspected there was no threat here at all.

The road into River City began to slope downward, and the thick, sickly trees thinned into no cover at all by the time they hit the bottom. Half a mile or so away now, they were clearly visible.

Nearby, Ft. Collins still stood as a reminder of the horrible struggle for survival that had started it all. The town that had protected NORAD had fallen with it. They couldn’t see its charred frames or tattered skeletons, but they’d passed them on their way and stepped lightly until it was out of view. Ghosts lurked in such places. That was common knowledge.

"Cover switch."

It was impressive to see five fighters in long cloaks remove and replace their hats with slightly larger versions at the same time - without losing pace or form. Each one was done with a simplicity that wasted no energy, but allowed an artistic flair that made the woman leading them tighten her lips against the pride.

So they could switch to bulletproof hats in one neat, eye-catching move. Could they walk for a week straight? Shoot the leaves off of trees? Fight to the death?

This time, she allowed the tiny grin to liven her usually expressionless face. Yes. Her men could do all of that… and more.

"The church has people inside.
A dozen?"
Mark, her newest man, announced.

Alexa didn't respond.
The green letters tattooed across his ten knuckles said more about him than anything else -
I WILL…
KILL U
.
It was a warning and description in one.

Mark had been in an underground slam with the other killers, but that hadn't stood in her way. When she’d left the Boulder complex, he'd been at her side, and willing. His wardens had wisely negotiated his release, letting her avoid bloodshed for a change. The sight of Edward and Daniel behind her with dead pigs had helped with that. Swine Flu fears were as endless as the pigs were.

Finding Mark once they snuck inside hadn’t been hard. His level of pain had drawn her harder than any of the others. Mark hadn’t been sorry for his crimes, only that he felt no remorse for the serial killings. He also had stamina. Of all her men, he was the most fit, the most physically imposing.

The landscape hardened around their boots, becoming more jagged. The group picked out signs of the world that had once been with angry hearts. It still hurt to see the smaller skeletons; still felt wrong to hear them crunch under their boots.

"There's a bunker hole," Daniel pointed this out quietly; reminding her he had a good eye for details.
The biker was lanky and limber, the smallest of their group. He was the one sent into places that the rest of them couldn’t fit, and his tone said he wanted to use that skill on this old-world relic.

"Yes, maybe we'll do some digging before we go - if there's still an interest after our work here is done."

That pleased them. Uncovering the secrets of the past was fodder for their adventurous souls.

Alexa signaled a formation change as she swung into full alert. The town was at their feet now, and she let the Fire Demon inside take control as they crossed from the Colorado borderlands into Wyoming.

2

The blonde and her four fighters moved through the one-street town with slow, sure steps, their eyes shifting constantly between doorways and shadowy alleys. With the wind whipping black cloaks as they circled, the men appeared as royal servants bent on being useful to their queen.

Those watching muttered quietly with impressed disapproval and fear.

Alexa's hands stayed on her guns, cloak pushed back to allow her access to the deadly Colts.

There was little doubt she could use them. The surprise of seeing a woman in command was the most obvious reaction from the few dozen men and women peering out of dusty windows, but there was also a hint of curiosity and a streak of anxious fear. River City wasn't famous for gunfighters or even for guns. Its glory came from still being a water town, even four years after the War of 2012. Many things could be had here, good and bad, but of strong fighters, there were few.

Doonngg
!

The church bell echoed loudly for a long minute, but the fighters didn't slow. Their leader had intentionally come while the religious refugees would be holding services and out of the way. Believing this new world to be the punishment of God, the converts were often the hardest to deal with.

Alexa moved toward the only open pub, and the men flanking her sent hard glares that warned the townspeople to take care.

At this time on Sunday, those not attending church were either doing chores or hanging around in the bar. Not that there was real whiskey anymore, but even alcohol would produce intoxication and dim this ugly world for a while. With enough of the homemade brew, the eyes might dim forever, blindness a common result of thievery and ignorance.

Alexa paused with a hand on the swinging
door,
head turning to look at the small, neat blacksmith’s shed next to the pub. She gave the man standing there a nod of recognition. His sense of strength was clear.

Pleasing her, he returned the gesture with a half bow and a smile of welcome, flirting.

Alexa stared a moment longer, making sure her fighters understood that the blacksmith was now under consideration.

All four men took his measure with hard stares of their own, as they took their places for this situation.

Two of the fighters would stay on Alexa’s flank, and the other two would guard the door. It had been harder to do, much more worrisome, when there had only been two fighters to watch her six.

The door creaked as Alexa swung it open, her sharp blue eyes picking out a dozen drinkers that were hard to distinguish from the decaying furnishings. Both wore the same colorlessness of neglect and danger…

Alexa’s lips thinned into a hard line. "I'm a man down."

Her fire-roughened voice cut through the stillness, where many of the haggard patrons opened their mouths… only to snap them shut. It was easy to guess how she'd lost a man. The Colts on her lean hips were the shiniest things in the room.

A shuffling noise from the far, dark corner swung Alexa's eyes to the three men playing Hob-jong with fragile, ancient cards.

Two of them went on with the game, but the third man, lean and unkempt, turned vivid green eyes on her.
"How much?"

His gruff voice told her he was a killer, but not the kind she needed.

"The success of the quest."

The card player grunted, dropping his eyes back to the rickety deck.
The years since the War had been ugly for Rick. He’d once been the wolf in sheep’s clothing, and after that, the pied piper, leading men to violent deaths. Now, he was a scavenger, one of the best, but his mind was always in the past.

"What is it that you seek?"

There was dead silence in the smoky pub at Rick’s question. There was a sense that her answer would be better than just a rescue mission or a treasure hunt.

Her words echoed eerily, "Safe Haven..."

There was a flurry of mutters and gasps, but the hard-case only nodded like he'd known all along, "The biggest myth of all."

The steel in her gaze drew Rick in despite his attempts to remain aloof.
"Unless you have proof?"

The scowl was in her frosty eyes. "I search for what I know exists."

Alexa’s voice changed, became scornful, "What I suspect you know exists, as well, but you'll not be at my side, Grifter!"

She spun toward the door, saw that the blacksmith was just outside of it, and listening intently, "
Anyone
else can try out."

Alexa flashed a hand over the bar as she walked by, and let a large chunk of gold clatter to the grooved wooden counter, "That belongs to the winner."

The woman stepped back out into the colder air. None of those inside would leave with her. They had no true courage, even the card player. But for the man standing nearby, this town was likely already dead and didn't know it. There had been more life here the last time she'd come.

"You might try the Preacher."

Her gaze went to the blacksmith in curiosity.
High cheekbones creased with laugh lines suggested he’d lived happily before the War, but the lack of amusement in his sapphire eyes said differently.
Taller than her other men, he wore the same dark coloring and intelligent face.

"Before the war, Jacob was government."

The man's tone was calm, bored even, as he ignored her protective men. Alexa felt her lips curl into a small line of interest that he responded to with his eyes. They said he'd been waiting for her.

"My thanks…” She waited, hoping he would know the code.

"My honor," David paused. "Is that right? I don't remember much of it now."

"Much of what, Iron-bender?"

He smiled at the term, showing neat, white teeth.
"The old words."

Alexa moved closer, openly evaluating. "And where did you hear them at all?"

"From my mother."

His eyes darkened with that admission, tone becoming abrupt. "The Preacher's called Jacob, but you'll know him by his face."

It was a dismissal, and Alexa left him with the scowls of her fighters at his sudden rudeness.

"Set it up."