The Valley of Dry Bones (7 page)

Zeke had learned a lot living in the desert that LA had become, including that it wasn't smart to be out in the sun at this time of day. Normally he'd have ridden back in his Jeep and spent the hottest part of the day underground. Now he felt vulnerable, and not only to the heat and radiation. As carefully as he and his companions walked, there was no avoiding kicking up swirls of dust. Neither was there anywhere to hide. Even if a Hydro Monger contingent was limited to the one big rig and two mediums Katashi had seen a couple of hours before, Zeke's quintet would be hard-pressed to defend themselves in the open with only their sidearms.

“I'm no military strategist, Zeke,” Pastor Bob said, “but Doc said we were sitting ducks back there. Truthfully, I'd trade places with them right about now. It's as if we've got targets on our backs here.”

“I'm with you,” Katashi said.

“Speak for Me now.”

“What's that, Raoul?” Zeke said.

“I didn't say nothin', man.”

“Speak for Me now.”

“Say what?” Zeke said.

“I said I didn't say nothing,” Raoul said.

“Hearing things?” Pastor Bob said with a smile.

“Matter of fact, I am.”

“If I
was
gonna say anything,” Raoul said, “I was gonna say I'm scared too.”

“I'll give you the words.”

“Okay, Lord,” Zeke said.

Pastor Bob chuckled. “Who's on first?”

“What're you crazy gringos talkin' about?” Benita said.

“It's an old Ameri—” Zeke began. Then, “The Lord of hosts, Him you shall hallow. Let Him be your fear, and let Him be your dread.”

“Isaiah,” Pastor Bob said. “Nice.”

“That's heavy, man,” Raoul said. “What's it mean?”

“It means we don't have to be afraid,” Pastor Bob said. “Worship God and He will take over.”

“Well, He better,” Benita said. “Look here.”

Zeke turned with the others and saw a cloud on the horizon much too large for walkers or even three dirt bikes to produce.

“Weapons out, boss?” Katashi said.

“Not yet. We don't know who it is, but let's not provoke. Just be ready. Pray for me, Pastor.”

“Lord, give him holy boldness. And me too. Amen.”

Dark hulks morphed into black tanker trucks through the shimmering heat waves. Billowing dust clouds twenty and thirty feet high trailed them as they raced over the hard-packed ground.

“They're not gonna run us down, are they?” Benita said.

“I can't imagine,” Zeke said. “There's no point.”

As the tankers drew closer he could tell from how they bounced and swayed that they carried full loads. They appeared to be traveling at least sixty miles per hour and would need a lot of stopping distance. Zeke wondered if they planned to just hurtle on by, but then he heard the roar of the engines abate. “Give 'em some room, people.”

They stepped aside as the drivers appeared to rhythmically pump their brakes. The lead driver calculated perfectly and drifted to a stop right next to Zeke, the other two trucks in tandem. The lead driver emerged and clambered down, a tall man with shaggy blond hair and wearing a sleeveless black vest. He appeared unarmed.

“Afternoon!” he said with a grin. “Wicked day to be walkin'. Need a lift? Got room fer all y'all.”

“Appreciate it,” Zeke said. “But no, we're all right, thanks.”

“C'mon, no secret ya lost yer rides.”

“That so?”

“All's I know is we come up on a pickum-up truck, a Jeeper, and a Rover yonder what all been wasted, and we know who done it.”

“Yeah? Who?”

“Three foreigners on rice rockets.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don't b'lieve me, suit yerself.”

“You saw them do this?”

“Saw 'em hightailin' away's all I know.”

“Thanks for the info.”

“Ride offer's still open.”

“Answer's still no, thanks.”

“Don't wanna insult me, do ya?”

“I know who you are,” Zeke said. “I've bought from you before.”

The man squinted. “Then ya know m' name?”

“I know you go by WatDoc.”

“Right! Get it? Water Doctor?”

“I get it.”

“An' ya don't wanna ride with a man you done bid'ness with?”

“Have a good day, WatDoc.”

“You too then, man. What's yer name?”

“You don't need to know my name.”

“How come?”

“You just don't.”

“I'll jes' call you Spokesman, then.”

“That'll work.”

“A'ight then.”

To Zeke's relief, the Mongers crossed the dirt bike tracks and raced away. He still held out hope they hadn't followed Mahir, Danley, and Cristelle back to base.

“We didn't see no bike tracks around our vehicles, did we, Zeke?” Raoul said.

“We sure didn't. WatDoc and his crew did that damage.”

“I don't want to think about what they might have done to our people,” Pastor Bob said.

“I don't either,” Zeke said. “But finding them is our only job now.”

“E
VERYBODY TAKE A SIP
,” Zeke said, “and Raoul and Benita face forward. I'm not worried about anything behind us anymore, and we've got to start making time. We're about three miles from base and we've got to find our people. Jogging wouldn't be smart, but let's hurry.”

“Yeah,” Katashi said, “let's not be rash. WatDoc was trying to tell us something. We know he and his guys have seen Mahir and the Muscadins. What did they do with them?”

“Or to them?” Benita said.

Half an hour later, Zeke and the others were panting. He stopped short when he noticed the dirt bike tracks had deviated. The men seemed to turn as one toward Benita, who had proved herself over and over an innate tracker—at least of animals. “How are you with tire tracks?” Zeke said.

She stepped forward and squatted to examine the ground.

“Watch this,” Raoul said. “Go,
cariño
.”

Benita said the three tire tracks on the left had come from their compound. “See?” she said, pointing. “The small part o' the nubs face west. These over here? The other way.”

“Tol' you, man,” Raoul said.

Zeke shook his head. “So on their way back, they veer off to the right here and split up. Why?”

“Not only that,” Benita said, jogging ahead and kneeling again, “but they sped up. Look at this.”

As the rest joined her, she pointed out that the tracks were shallower and less distinct, the sandy surface more scattered. “They were tryin' to get away from something. Look far enough ahead and I bet we're gonna see it.”

Zeke knew they shouldn't be jogging in the heat, but he couldn't stop himself either. He and Katashi followed the tracks that went left while the others followed the one that went right. Soon they all saw the heavy treads of truck tires. “Benita!” he called out, “make sense of this for me!”

“C'mere!” she hollered, but as he hurried over, all four guys had trouble keeping up as she raced from spot to spot, crouching to study the patterns of circling and crossing truck tires and dirt bike tracks. She stopped, hands on her knees, breathing deeply.

“Take your time,” Zeke said. “Let's get it right.”

Benita straightened and rested her hands on her hips. “Pretty sure it was those same three tanker trucks,” she said. “All three have duallys on the back, and even as fast as they're goin', they're leavin' flat, broad marks like they're carrying heavy loads. I'm guessin' Mahir and them saw the trucks and tried to dodge 'em, and the truck started circling them. This one here tried to make a break for it.”

“Think whoever it was got away?”

Benita shrugged. “Gotta follow the tracks till we find out.”

Pastor Bob shook his head. “Hope they kept the scoundrels from finding the compound.”

“Let's go!” Katashi said.

“Slow down,” Zeke said. “We really have to conserve our strength. We don't know what we're going to find, and we have to be ready for anything.”

“Come on!” Katashi said. “These are our friends.”

Zeke put a hand on his shoulder. “I just want us all at our strongest.”

“Oh, no,” Raoul said, pointing. “What's that?”

A little more than a quarter mile away lay a crumpled wreck. There would be no stopping his friends now. Zeke had to run too.

It took a couple of minutes to reach the mangled dirt bike, but that wasn't the worst of it. Its fenders and spokes were blood splattered. Unfortunately, the three bikes owned by the troop were identical, so it was impossible to know who had been riding and might have been injured, captured, or killed.

Again, Benita immediately went to work, striding about, surveying the area, kneeling here and there. “There's good news, boss,” she said. “Least I think there is.”

“Tell me.”

“I don't think nobody got shot. I think the blood came from when whoever was riding got knocked off, and then the bike got ran over after that.”

“How can you tell?”

“I don't wanna be too graphic, but if the rider got ran over too, there'd be more than blood, you know what I mean? Like flesh and bone maybe. But there's more good news too.”

“I'm listening.”

“Looks like the trucks all left together, and look over here,” she said. Benita moved to where the ground was disturbed and bloody. “The other two bikes come over here too. Then one goes off toward base and the other goes back toward town, but look at this.”

She slowly followed the trail of the bike heading back toward base. “The tracks are wider and flatter, see? And look close on that side. Those are drops of blood, man. The bike goin' back to base has two people on it, and one of 'em's bleeding.”

“And the one heading back to town is looking for Doc,” Zeke said.

“Why didn't they both go home, and one of 'em get a vehicle to go get Doc and more people?” Raoul said.

“Probably because whoever needs Doc can't wait,” Pastor Bob said.

“Let's get going,” Katashi said. “See if we can help, and make sure the compound hasn't been compromised.”

“Wait!” Raoul said. “Someone's coming!”

Zeke instinctively reached for his weapon just when he heard the high-pitched whine of a dirt bike. The five jumped and waved, and the
rider, who turned out to be Doc—his majestic head crammed into Mahir's iridescent purple helmet—raced up and skidded to a stop. “I've got to get going,” he said. “Cristelle's been injured. Mahir's taken over for me.”

“Take Pastor Bob with you,” Zeke said, “so he and Danley can come back and pick up the others and us.”

An hour later, Zeke sensed he was looking into the eyes of a somber, grateful, ravenous group who finally gathered again as one in their own underground compound. They crowded around Cristelle Muscadin's bed in the infirmary down the opposite corridor from where Mahir and Zeke distilled salt water for drinking and experimented with various formulas to produce alternative fuels. Katashi beckoned him into the hall with a nod.

“You've seen Cristelle ride, right?” Katashi said.

“Sure, why?”

“She knows her way around a bike. She ought to be able to outmaneuver a tanker. Danley's been looking daggers at Mahir ever since he got back here.”

“What're you saying? Did he say anything?”

Katashi leaned closer. “Only thing Danley told me was that it sure took Doc a long time to get here. You don't think Doc's prejud—”

“C'mon, you know better'n that. For one thing, she's almost as dark as he is. And when we saw Doc, he was hurrying.”

Katashi squinted. “Any reason Mahir would have been slow getting to Doc?”

“I can't imagine. I'd better get back in there.”

Cristelle, at twenty-five, was a year older than her husband, Danley, who sat on the edge of her bed holding her hand. The young woman appeared barely able to keep her eyes open. Doc said he had sedated her and injected heavy painkillers into her right leg below the knee. He said it appeared the front tire of one of the trucks had crushed her shin and obliterated much of the flesh and calf muscle. She would be immobile and suffering for a long time.

Mahir said the Hydro Mongers had overtaken and harassed the three of them and, he was sure, intended to kill them.

“That makes no sense,” Zeke said. “They had you outnumbered, but you should have been more nimble.”

“They picked on our weakest link,” Mahir said. “Cristelle's still pretty new on the bike.”

“She is not!” Danley said in his Haitian lilt. “I know you didn't mean to, but you forced her right in front of that truck!”

“I was trying to distract the driver, Danley!”

“I want to kill that guy,” Danley said.

“I'm sure we all do,” Zeke said. “But we don't need a war, and vengeance is not who we are. Those guys are part of a huge network. They'd just as soon rub us out as have us in the way. They think we're competition.”

“They don't need our business,” Katashi said. “They want our brain trust and our technology.”

“Well,” Alexis said, “that's not for sale.”

Doc, who had been glowering since clarifying Cristelle's injuries, held up a hand. “You realize how close we came to being fully exposed here, right? Today could've been the end of this place, and for all we know, they
do
know where we are. Some reason no one's manning the periscopes, Zeke?”

“You handle your responsibilities and I'll handle mine,” Zeke said. “We'll scan the area in a few minutes. Nobody can get close before sundown without kicking up a lot of dust.”

“I don't suppose this is a good time to be out hunting,” Doc said, “but we need to eat, and everybody needs to hydrate. I hope the ration everybody took with them this morning is long gone by now and you're each able to get another gallon into you by dinnertime. Be smart.”