Refugees from the Righteous Horde (Toxic World Book 2) (25 page)

The entire camp began to stir. Men left their cooking fires or emerged from their tents and began to assemble. Annette noticed an oblong, flat-topped boulder near the crosses. The two priests and their guards headed there.

Jeb confirmed her hunch. “He’s probably going to speak from that big rock there,” he said. “He always likes to stand where he can be seen.”

“Do you think they’ll chase us once I take him out?” Annette asked.

“Probably not. They’ll probably think he was killed by one of their own. All hell will break loose and everyone will start shooting everybody. It’s going to be fun to watch.”

“We’re not going to be watching. We’re going to be running like hell.”

“Shame to miss the show, but that’s probably a good idea.”

The two priests stopped in front of the boulder. One climbed up on top. Annette clicked the safety off her sniper’s rifle.

“Don’t fire. That’s the second-in-command,” Jeb said.

Annette’s eye left the scope long enough to glance at the smoke from the fires. The wind had picked up slightly.

A high, thin voice came up to them as the man started gesticulating. The crowd gathered more quickly now.

“They seem eager,” Annette said.

“No. They just want this over so they can have breakfast.”

In a minute everyone had assembled. As one man they raised their fists in their air three times.

“Purity! Purity! Purity!” words rang clear through the crisp morning air.

Annette guessed there were about five hundred, less than a quarter of their original numbers. She saw no camp followers other than a few women huddled by the tents. They did not cheer.

The high priest spoke for another minute before jumping off the boulder. The other robed man climbed up and took his place.

“That’s him,” Jeb said. “Take him out so we can all be safe. You can do it, Annette.”

Encouraging murmurs came from the others.

Thanks, now shut up. God I hate doing this. It’s like murder. This guy doesn’t even know I’m here.

She studied The Pure One through her scope. What everyone said was true, he really did have the features you see in the common images of Jesus. Annette had the weird thought that if he had lived a different life he could have been a regular back at $87,953, some scavenger or small-time farmer. Everyone would have called him Jesus and had a big laugh. “Hey Jesus, turn some water into wine. I don’t have any more trade to give Roy!”

In some other world. She and The Pure One weren’t living in that world.

He wore a plain linen robe, not the bright white one people said he wore when he had besieged New City, but a simpler robe that was more practical for the march. A belt and a black satchel were around his waist. Otherwise he had no other item of clothing or possessions on him that she could see.

Even at this distance his charisma was unmistakable. His gestures, the way he stood, the power of his contorted face, all showed that this was a man who could twist minds and make them commit evil. Annette had read enough history to know that only perhaps once a generation did someone like this appear, and they always led their people to ruin.

Led to ruin because they made enemies like her.

“What made you like this?” she whispered. “Why not be a farmer or a scavenger or move to the Burbs? You could have been anything, and you ended up being this. Sorry, but you got to die.”

She let her breath out slowly and squeezed the trigger.

The rifle barked in her hands. She kept it steady, gazing through the scope for the half-second it took for the bullet to reach him.

The Pure One jerked and a flare of blue light surrounded him in a sparkling sphere.

Annette blinked, and the light was gone.

The Pure One was still standing.

Standing, and looking right at her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. I knew Annette was short on ammo, but one bullet? She brought us out here with
only one fucking bullet?

Just like a woman. You begin to like her and she pulls some world-class bullshit!

But she hit him. . .

The Pure One flinched, and
there wasn’t any kickup on the rock around him. She hit. And what was that light? It was like an egg of blue light around him.

He couldn’t be. . .

No, no way. The guy was a fraud. He’d seen enough frauds to know. But how did he do it?

First things first, they had to get the fuck out of there.

They were running—flat out running—across the plain. There was no attempt at evasion or hiding their tracks or deluding their pursuers into thinking they were heading anywhere except the pass. The land was too open for that. The only thing that could save them was running faster and for longer than the Righteous Horde.

They could see them back there. Any time they came to a rise they’d see hundreds of men spread out about a mile behind them. The Pure One had spread his net wide. If Jeb and the rest tried to veer off to one side they’d get caught by the flanks of the army.

So it was straight on to the pass or face crucifixion.

They might just make it. As Annette had pointed out, they were better rested and fed than their pursuers, although they were carrying packs and knowing The Pure One, he’d told his men to strip off everything but their weapons to make better time. Still, they maybe they could get away. Maybe.

And then there was that tremulous edge of fatigue already placing a palsied hand on Jeb’s muscles and making his heart beat painfully in his chest. He wasn’t much better off physically than those guys back there. In another mile or two, he knew, he’d start lagging behind the rest.

So. . . options.

Option 1: Split off and try to get away alone. Chances may be better at hiding or slipping away without them, but if he got caught and needed to shoot his way out he’d need them. The cult would be sending out patrols to either side of the main line, and even though he had the AK he couldn’t take out a whole patrol.

Option 2: Turn the New City posse in.

No.

No?

No.

The Pure One wasn’t in a talking mood anyway.

Option 3: Stick.

Aw, crap.

Jeb hurried to keep up as the posse ran across the plain.

It was a weird, surreal chase, a chase that appeared to take place in slow motion. Although they and their pursuers were running as fast as they could, on the nearly featureless plains it looked like they weren’t making any headway. The Righteous Horde neither gained ground nor lagged behind, and the mountains that were everyone’s goal seemed no closer.

Eventually their sprint slowed to a jog, and then into a brisk walk. Despite the sharp winter air everyone dripped with sweat. Jeb’s canteen was nearly empty. He kept looking over his shoulder. The crowd behind them looked no closer than it had an hour ago.

Jeb found the strength to speak. “How did he stop the bullet?”

Annette shook her head, her face red and dripping with sweat. “I don’t know.”

“You missed,” Christina gasped. “And why the hell didn’t you tell us you only had one bullet?”

“I didn’t miss,” Annette said.

“Of course you did.”

“I didn’t miss.”

“I was watching through the binoculars,” Jeb said. “There was a flash of blue light all around The Pure One. He flinched but the bullet didn’t hurt him. She hit. Something stopped it.”

No one replied. Jeb gulped for air. Even that short speech caught him out of breath.

Oh fuck, I’m not going to be able to keep up with these guys for much longer.

I should peel off now.

And do what? Go where?

They continued on, headed for the pass that stood out clear and agonizingly distant in the morning light. At a low rise they got on their hands and knees and climbed to the top to get a look around. The line of men behind them was about the same distance away as it had been, but Nguyen cried out and pointed to another group that was about half a mile away and between them and the mountain pass.

“Shit! How did they do that?” Charley moaned.

“Probably some of the bodyguards. Must be running all out to have gotten that far,” Jeb said.

“They’re going to cut us off,” Nguyen said. “What do we do?”

Annette thought for a moment, looking all around her.

Yeah, I know what you’
re looking for
,
Jeb felt like saying if he had enough air to waste
.
But there’s no way to slip out of this net. Trust me, I’ve been looking.

“We punch through,” Annette said.

Jeb nodded. “We gotta do it quick.”

Christina looked at the approaching line of men barely a mile away, then back at the group of about ten men cutting them off. “If those guys hold us up for more than a few minutes. . .”

She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to. Everyone got up and hurried forward, straight at the men in their way.

It didn’t take long for the bodyguards to see them coming. Jeb saw the distant figures scramble up a cluster of weathered boulders and take position on top and between them. The boulders stood on a low hill and had a commanding view of the area around.

“Shit,” Jeb said. “We don’t have time to go around. The bodyguards all have rifles or M16s. No way we’ll be able to stay out of range and get around before the rest of the army catches up.”

As if in response there was a flash from atop one of the boulders and a bullet whined by. Everyone crouched down.

“Hey, look,” Annette pointed at a dry creek bed that snaked along the plain not far from the boulders. She turned to Nguyen and got a grin in response.

“Looks like it’s time to break out the surprise,” he said, and opened up the satchel at his side.

When he pulled out a rifle grenade Jeb felt like it was Christmas.

“Nguyen, you are my new best friend,” Jeb laughed. “I’ll cover you.”

“We’ll all cover him,” Annette said. “No time for flanking them, we get as close as we can, blast those motherfuckers, and run like hell for the pass.”

They ran low for the creek bed, a few bullets passing by. They were still too far away for the men on the rock to get a good shot. By the time they drew close enough, they made it into a thicket by the side of the wash and got down into the dry, sandy bed.

The creek meandered across the plain. Jeb remembered that at the third turn it got close to the rocks.

“They must have seen us,” Jeb whispered. “What if they send some guys down in here?”

“They don’t need to,” Annette whispered back as she crawled next to him. “They’re thinking all they have to do is wait for us to show ourselves and then pick us off. They don’t know we have a grenade launcher.”

Jeb nodded. This chick was smart. Not bad looking too. Pity he’d never get a chance to make a play.

What the hell are you thinking about her for at a time like this? If you want to make it to be a hundred, buddy, you need to focus.

They made it to the third bend. Nguyen shucked off his pack and readied his grenade launcher. Jeb looked nervously at the small size of his satchel. It didn’t look like he had more than two extra grenades in there. Everyone spread out on both sides.

“OK,” Nguyen said, an eager light in his eyes. “On the count of three, rise up and give me cover fire and I’ll blast those guys right off the rocks. This is something to tell your grandkids about.”

“One. . .”

Jeb switched his AK-47 to semiautomatic.

“Two. . .”

You should find something to cure that bat with. Kid’s liable to leave it out in the rain.

Focus!

“Three!”

Jeb stood up and fired a pair of bursts at the rocks. The rest of their line erupted in shots. The dark figures atop the rocks ducked down. One flailed like a fish caught on a line and rolled off the side to land hard on the ground beneath.

With a hollo
w
thun
k
Nguyen’s grenade sailed over the intervening space and landed with a clatter on the boulders.

For a long moment there was silence, and then The Pure One’s bodyguards rose up and started firing.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Susanna woke up to the sound of gunfire and Kevin shouting.

She opened bleary eyes and tried to blink away some sticky liquid that was in them. She wiped her eyes and looked at her hand.

Blood.

A wave of pain and nausea washed over her. She squeezed her eyes shut. The sickness in her stomach passed, but the pain in her head remained as an agonizing throb, flaring white-hot with the sharp sound of each gunshot.

Susanna opened her eyes again and discovered she was now in the front passenger’s seat with her head down where her feet should be. The crash must have thrown her here and she knocked her head against the dashboard. She realized that if she had flown out the window, she’d be dead now.

Kevin’s shouting caught her attention. He was still in the driver’s seat, yelling into the radio.

“Weissberg is real! We’re under attack!”

Susanna turned herself right side up and nearly vomited as her head spun. Marcus lay motionless across the back seat. Conrad and Spiegelman had taken position outside behind a pair of rocks and were firing into the distance.

A crackled message came over the radio but Susanna didn’t hear what was said. She reached into the back seat and shook Marcus. He didn’t have any blood on him. The older man groaned and moved a little. Susanna saw a dent in his helmet. The bullet must have hit it and the impact knocked him out. Susanna felt a wave of relief to see this good man was alive.

Maybe not for long. A murderous return fire came at Conrad and Spiegelman, forcing them to curl up behind some rocks for safety as bullets chipped away at the edges. Conrad crawled back to the vehicle.

“They’re flanking us! Can’t you get this thing moving?” he asked Kevin.

The driver shook his head. “Bullet straight through the cooling pump and probably took out a few other things besides. We’re not going anywhere.”

Conrad’s eyes went wide. “Can’t we get some help?”

Before Kevin could answer, bullets clanked off the hood of the vehicle and shattered one of the side windows. Everyone got down.

Then the firing stopped, followed by a pregnant silence.

“We got you surrounded,” someone shouted from the distance. “Come on out with your hands up and you won’t be killed!”

Susanna recognized the voice.

Derren.

No. I won’t go back there.

Susanna looked around the vehicle, hoping to find a place to hide but seeing none. Kevin had already stepped out, hands above his head. Conrad stood next to him. Spiegelman was probably giving up too. She didn’t care. She wasn’t going to fall into their hands again.

She spotted a pistol on Marcus’ belt. Easing into the back seat, staying low so she couldn’t be seen from the window, she got down on the floor next to Marcus.

“Is that all of you?” Derren called, closer this time.

“Marcus is in the back seat,” Kevin called back. “I think you killed him you bastard.”

Susanna unbuttoned the holster and slid the pistol out. It was the kind they called an automatic. It felt bulky and heavy in her hands.

“Anyone else in there?” Derren called. His voice carried a trace of worry at the news that Marcus was hit.

“Yeah, one more,” Kevin turned to the vehicle. “Susanna, come on out. It’s over.”

She knew there was a switch called a safety that you had to turn to make it able to fire. After a moment she found it and turned it.

“What name did you say? Susanna?” Derren shouted.

There was the sound of running feet approaching fast.

Susanna held the gun up to her head. She began to squeeze the trigger. . .

. . .and stopped.

No. That’s being a victim too. I’m not a victim anymore.

Derren’s face appeared at the window. On instinct she pointed the gun at his face. Derren froze, eyes wide.

“Bang, you’re dead,” Susanna said, and placed the pistol on the seat.

Derren gaped for a second before his mouth twisted into a snarl. He tore open the door and hauled her out. Susanna reeled as he struck her across the face. The next thing she knew she was lying on the ground. Derren raised his M16 and pointed it at her head.

“What, you going to kill her after you promised us our lives?” Kevin shouted.

“She doesn’t count,” Derren growled.

“And then what?” Kevin demanded, his hands still above his head. “Kill the rest of us too? We already radioed in that we were surrendering. You kill us it will be war. You want to start the City State Wars again, you dumb fuck?”

Derren snarled and turned on Kevin, leveling his gun. The driver took a step back, face turning white.

“Derren, don’t, Abe is coming!” one of the other Weissberg guards shouted. Susanna saw about twenty of them surrounding the vehicle.

Another crowd of people approached from the distance. Derren went back to the vehicle and checked on Marcus.

“He’s alive,” he said with obvious relief.

The guards searched everyone and by the time the second group made it to them, Susanna and the others had been lined up by the vehicle and stripped of all their belongings and Kevlar. Marcus sat on the ground, holding his head and only able to give monosyllabic replies to questions.

Abraham Weissman strode up. He looked at the newcomers with distaste before his eyes settled on Susanna.

“Well, well, well, so this is the thanks I get.”

Susanna didn’t bother to reply.

Kevin took a step forward, and was halted by an array of guns. “How did you know we were coming?”

Abe shrugged. “I do own a radio station and far more radio equipment than you idiots give me credit for.”

“You don’t own that station anymore,” Conrad sneered. “The Doctor’s going to confiscate everything the Merchant Association’s got.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Abe smiled, walking over to Marcus.

The assistant mayor looked up at him, managed to focus, and said, “You won’t get away with this, Abe.”

Abe laughed. “I already have! Not only have I gotten most of the key people and equipment out while you numbskulls were worried about some ridiculous elections in the Burbs, but I have you. The Doctor will trade a lot for you.”

“But why, Abe?” Marcus said, struggling to his feet. “New City is the best thing going. Electricity, man, you’ve given up electricity. Don’t tell me you got solar panels over there because I don’t believe it. And the city wall, and shops, and. . .”

“We can make all that here. We’ve already started. Besides, I’m sure I can get a solar panel or two in trade for you.”

“But why leave?”

Abe sneered. “Because The Doctor is weak, weak in more than one way. He’s soft on the scavengers, allows that festering slum to thrive right outside the gate, he gives away irreplaceable medicine for free. And worse, he’s dying of AIDS. Oh, not that I wouldn’t mind attending his funeral, but then you’ll be in charge and Lord help us all!”

Abe shook his head.

“You know, at first I thought of having a coup, then I realized the Burbs would rise up and help you. No, I couldn’t take command without risking everything, so I decided to start again. You’re one of the founders of New City, you understand the pioneering spirit.”

Marcus glared. “With New City we created something good, a place where everyone had a chance. That’s not going to be what Weissberg is like.”

The assistant mayor turned to the assembled crowd.

“Enough of this. Arrest Abe right now and give yourselves up and there will be amnesty for all of you.”

No one moved, but Susanna noticed a lot of unsure faces.

“You want war? You want to be cut off from New City forever?” Marcus asked.

“That’s enough now, Marcus,” Abe said. “Another word from you and I’ll have you gagged. Come on, let’s take them back to town. And get a crew out here to haul this Hummer back too. Perhaps Kevin can fix it for us.”

“Not in a million years,” Kevin snapped.

“You may be staying for that long,” Abe chuckled. He turned to Susanna. “But you won’t. Oh no, you most definitely won’t.”