The Day After Never - Covenant (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 3) (20 page)

He stalked off, hating that he had to doubt every word out of her mouth, looking for the lie. The only reason he didn’t believe she was a threat was because she’d been the Crew’s prisoner. Otherwise he would have thought she’d been in it with them. But the ropes proved that wasn’t the case. As to the rest, he could understand why she’d left – the guide could ensure her safe passage, or so she’d thought, and she’d never get another chance like it.

That she believed the story about her son he didn’t dwell on. People believed all sorts of incredible stuff, and Garret had chosen her one weak link and worked a blade through it with considerable skill. Of course she’d believe what her heart wanted to think was true – even though Lucas didn’t have children, he could understand a mother’s love.

Whether she had any intention of honoring her promise to him remained to be seen. She didn’t have a choice for now, but he suspected he hadn’t seen the last of her attempts – he had to hand it to her for persistence, if nothing else.

He despised himself for the stirring he felt when he gazed into her eyes, and wanted to maintain his fury at her, but it was already being replaced by concern over her story about Magnus and compassion at the grief that she must be feeling at the idea her son was still alive.

What he couldn’t forgive her for was abandoning him without telling him. It was childish, he knew, but there it was. She’d chosen to sneak away rather than sharing her problem, and there was no way to pretend that hadn’t harmed any chance they had together.

Tango shook his head at Lucas as he neared, and Lucas pushed the thoughts from his mind. He needed to get clear of the camp and ride all night; the clock was ticking ominously, the damage by the treasonous guide already done.

Chapter 34

Luis and one of the Crew gunmen – a particularly nasty piece of work named Ross – rode all night and arrived in Albuquerque two hours after sunup, their horses exhausted. Once in the city, they plodded along a main street until they found a promising area with several watering holes and numerous trading posts.

Nothing was open yet but a greasy spoon in the middle of the block, so they parked themselves at a sidewalk table and ordered breakfast. Ross was uncertain about eating before he found a radio, but Luis assured him that it was fine – not much would be open at that hour, and they might as well maintain their strength.

Cano had ordered Luis into town with Ross because he considered the Loco expendable, which he as much as told Luis. Luis had offered no reaction, understanding Cano’s attempt to bait him. Their final confrontation would happen on Luis’s terms, not Cano’s, he was determined, and he took pleasure in giving the Crew boss his best stone-faced nod of acquiescence.

Ross was a serious lowlife, even by prison standards. Violent and fearless, he had the cunning of a rat. On the ride south he’d regaled Luis with stories of brutality that were typical for hard cases. He’d been locked up for multiple life sentences following his arrest for a string of particularly vicious home invasions, where he’d pistol-whipped geriatrics for the thrill of it, costing one an eye and another her hearing. The public defender had argued that Ross was mentally ill, positing that nobody sane would rape an octogenarian while filming it on his phone, but the jury had disagreed, as had the judge, who’d thrown the book at him.

Of course to hear him tell it, he was a victim, unable to get a job due to his lack of education, forced into selling drugs on the street, and then later moving up to violent crimes to support his habit. Luis had heard variations of the same story hundreds of times and had tuned the man out; there was nothing new under the sun once you’d done as much time in lockup as Luis had.

The eggs were delicious, and a full stomach diminished the throbbing in Luis’s temples to a manageable ache. The cook didn’t know where they could find a radio, so they sat in the shade and waited for the trading post to open. Twenty minutes later a scruffy man arrived with a pair of menacing-looking sidekicks, and Luis told Ross to stay put while he got directions to the nearest shortwave transmitter.

Luis returned after a brief discussion with the trader, and they rode into the center of town, ignoring the glowers of the residents. Six blocks up, near a square with a century-old church, they tied up outside of a barber shop with a towering antenna rising from its flat roof.

The owner of the establishment wasn’t thrilled by their looks or smell, but seemed happy enough when Ross counted out several fistfuls of rounds for ten minutes of airtime. Luis distracted the man with questions while Ross raised the Crew operator in Houston and delivered the coded message that Cano had scrawled on a scrap of paper. Cano’s fear was that Shangri-La would intercept the transmission, so he’d created a three-part message, sent over several frequencies, lingering on none for longer than twenty seconds.

It seemed hyper-paranoid to Luis, but he played along, congratulating Ross on a job well done when they exited the shop. The owner had offered them a bath and a shave for a few more rounds, but neither of them took him up on it, preferring to spend their barter elsewhere.

Luis was the one who suggested finding a whorehouse, and Ross had enthusiastically seconded the idea until doubts had surfaced over how Cano would react. Luis assured him that he wouldn’t tell Cano and that it could stay between them. When Ross agreed, Luis smiled inwardly, the move a calculated one to earn the dolt’s trust and give Luis leverage over him.

They made for a brothel that stayed open round the clock. They were stopped by a patrol on the way, but when they told the men their destination, all had laughed and wished them luck.

Chapter 35

Magnus stood with Snake and the rest of his inner circle, watching the preparations for his battle force to roll. Twenty diesel buses had been fueled in the parking lot of the church he used as his headquarters, and he waited as his men loaded the cargo holds with weapons and supplies. A row of semi-rigs with livestock carriers were lined at the front, and still more Crew members led horses aboard, the front sections containing bales of feed stacked to the ceiling. Nearby, a procession of Humvees was being readied; crews checked their oil and tires as his technical team hooked trailers to them for ammunition and supplies.

Four olive green M777 Howitzers were grouped near the parking lot entry, where hundreds of shells rested in crates, waiting to be loaded onto a tractor trailer. The artillery and ammunition had been looted from an abandoned armory – the only four that hadn’t been disabled by the staff. Whitely had managed to make them operational using parts filched from other big guns, the computer systems being the touchiest parts.

Magnus strode to his senior general with Snake in tow. “Jude, what’s our departure time?” he barked.

“Another hour, at least. Lot to onload.”

“How many men, total?”

“Nine hundred and seventy of our best.”

“How long do you estimate it’ll take to get there?”

“Three days if we run round the clock.”

“Which we will. How are we set for spare parts?”

“We’ll have two trucks with tires, repair kits, belts, oil, the usual. I’d like to have twice as many, but we’ll make do.”

“Cano’s driver said the road to Pecos is relatively clear.”

“Yes. It’s the highway north that’s the unknown. We can assume we’ll have to remove vehicles along the way. That’s why we’re bringing three tow trucks.” Jude paused. “My biggest concern is supply lines. We’ll need to have plenty of food and water, and trying to carry enough to last us over a week will use more fuel than we can spare. As it is, we probably won’t be able to make it all the way back. Not enough diesel for a round trip with a force this size.”

“We’ve been over this already. I don’t care. We’ll worry about getting back once we’ve destroyed their base. Worst case, we can ride cross country to Lubbock and use some of their vehicles.”

“They have almost no fuel left.”

Magnus waved the statement away. “Where do you plan to commandeer supplies en route?”

“Roswell, and then Albuquerque. From there we should be fine. If this goes more than ten days, we can hit Santa Fe, too.”

Magnus nodded. “Then you’ve thought everything through?”

“Yes. As much as we could in the time we had.” He paused. “I’ve mapped out the best route – fortunately, there’s a highway all the way to Los Alamos, so we’ll never be off the pavement. We should be able to make good progress.”

“According to Cano, they’re only three hundred strong. If your men can’t grind them into hamburger in short order, you have no right to call yourselves Crew.”

Jude frowned but said nothing. He knew as well as anyone that you contradicted Magnus at your peril. Once he had an idea in his head, he didn’t want to hear anything that wasn’t in line with his assumptions. Privately, Jude wasn’t as glib as his master, as he’d had actual combat experience in the Middle East. He’d seen tribesmen inflict horrendous casualties on the best armed, best trained forces on the planet, and understood that, absent aerial and satellite support, nothing was a given, no matter how determined Magnus might be.

“Very well,” Magnus continued, turning to his inner circle. “Snake will be in provisional charge during my absence. You’re to follow his orders as though I was here. Is that clear?”

The men nodded with expressions ranging from neutral to displeased. Snake had his rivals among the group, where Magnus’s favor was the only currency that mattered, and they constantly worked to undermine each other in his eyes. Snake’s appointment as their surrogate master hadn’t sat well with some, but they’d held their tongues, wary of provoking Magnus.

“Don’t worry. There shouldn’t be any surprises,” Snake said.

Magnus acknowledged him and then moved to the artillery. “We know these work?” he demanded.

“Whitely assured us they do.” Jude hesitated. “I wish we had time to get him down here from Lubbock.”

“Well, we don’t,” Magnus snapped. He watched as a group of his fighters checked their weapons near one of the buses, donning plate carriers and loading magazines, some practicing fieldstripping their rifles under the watchful eyes of their squad leaders, and then nodded.

“Call me when we’re ready to roll. I have some last minute items to attend to.”

Magnus hurried back to the church, where he had a radio transmission scheduled with the Apaches to negotiate a price for his army to cross their territory. Whether he would actually pay it or simply wipe them out, he hadn’t decided yet, but he was leaning toward killing them – after all, he was a conquering head of state. Why would he pay for what he could take for free? He had more than enough firepower, and it would be good practice for his men – whet their appetite for blood.

But he would make that determination once he saw what he was up against. With almost a thousand fighters, he was mounting the largest fighting force he’d ever heard of post-collapse, and the sight and sound of a motorized army bearing down at high speed would cow anyone planning on challenging him. Like his idols Genghis Khan and Attila the Hun, he would sweep across the land like a plague, destroying everything in his way.

The thought made him grin. Finally, he was fulfilling his destiny, preparing for the final battle that would decide who ruled the world – a battle he would not lose.

Chapter 36

After a grueling day’s ride to Los Alamos, the final approach through the canyons draining what resources Tango and Nugget had left, the sentries held Lucas and Sierra at gunpoint until Arnold could be reached on the radio to confirm that they were to be admitted. As the light went out of the western sky, their approach to the compound was notably less celebratory than their first. No bands of joyous riders greeted them, no crowd of well-wishers waited to make them feel like honored guests.

Arnold, Michael, and Elliot stood by the main building with a small group of men as Lucas guided Sierra and two of the Crew’s horses loaded with their weapons and ammo toward the entrance. They dismounted, and four stable boys came at a run to take the animals. Elliot cleared his throat and motioned to them to follow him inside.

“Come. We have a lot to discuss,” he said, none of his usual good humor in evidence.

Sierra looked down at her dusty pants and hands. “Lucas knows everything that I do. If you don’t mind, after two days with no sleep, I’ll sit this one out.”

Lucas glanced briefly at the men and then nodded. “No reason for you to be there. Get some rest.”

“I want to see Eve first. Is she in there?” she asked, motioning to the sleeping quarters.

Arnold nodded. “She’s with your friend Ruby.”

“I’m sorry I caused you any trouble,” Sierra said, her tone contrite. “I didn’t mean to.”

Elliot didn’t speak. Arnold snapped his fingers, and one of the men moved toward the bunk hall, the unspoken message clear as a bell: she would be watched around the clock. The man sat by the front door after Sierra disappeared inside, and Lucas shook his head. “Probably don’t need to do that. Just let the sentries know that nobody’s to leave.”

Arnold gave him a hard look. “Appreciate the advice, but our sandbox, our rules.”

“Suit yourself.”

“This way,” Elliot said, and led them into the building, where they sat at a rough-hewn wood table. Toby, Ken, and Richard joined them from outside, and Arnold leaned forward with a dour expression on his face.

“Your radio report was rather cryptic,” he started. Lucas had transmitted from Los Alamos to indicate he was on final approach, and had requested an immediate gathering of everyone concerned with security.

“That was deliberate,” Lucas said. “I figured you wouldn’t want the whole camp to hear what I have to say.”

“Well, we’re all here now. Spill the beans.”

Lucas gave them a terse report about his attack on Cano’s camp, Tarak’s death, and Sierra’s news that the Crew had been told Shangri-La’s location. When he was done, the men’s complexions were pale – all except Arnold, who was flushed with anger.