The Day After Never - Retribution (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 4) (17 page)

“How you feeling?” Lucas asked.

“Like crap,” John said. “How long till the antibiotics kick in?”

“Any time,” Lucas offered, unsure of the answer but not wanting to alarm him.

“They take a while to concentrate in your system,” Sierra confirmed.

“Then I won’t try to amputate it while everyone’s asleep,” John said with a halfhearted attempt at humor.

They settled on their bedrolls near the horses, and Sierra rolled toward him and planted a kiss on his mouth. He answered in kind, and she sighed when they parted.

“Maybe we should have pitched a tent,” he said.

“John’s right there.”

Lucas glanced over at the wounded man and smiled. “He won’t mind.”

Sierra swatted him with a mock frown. “We’ll be on our own soon enough.”

“Carrot and stick?”

“Whatever makes the mare run,” she said. “But this is like Chinese water torture. I thought we’d be done by now, and we’ve still got three more days to go.”

“Which nobody’s happy about.”

“Me especially.” She pecked his cheek and sighed again. “Good night, Lucas.”

He gazed up at the stars, bright as flares in the inky sky, and slid his hat down over his eyes. “If we’re lucky.”

Chapter 25

The rendezvous was to take place around dusk at the high school in Nixa, a small town just south of Springfield, and as the group made its way up the road that led to the school, the sky was painted with lavender and fuchsia. The trees on either side of the way shivered in the late afternoon breeze, rustling as they passed like nervous children in church.

All had their weapons cradled in their arms, and Lucas was studying their surroundings with his binoculars. It was a less than ideal spot for a meet; most of the tract homes along the route were still standing, creating ample opportunities for an ambush or for snipers to hide.

John’s fever had broken sometime during the second night, and he was progressively improving, the angry red flesh around his wound now reduced to a petulant pink. It still hurt him to use the arm, but he was undaunted by the pain and appeared determined, with his assault rifle resting against his saddle horn.

They’d discussed reconnoitering the school grounds if they arrived early enough, but the terrain had conspired against them, and they’d had to press the horses hard just to make it in time. All the animals were showing signs of distress from the pace, but they bravely soldiered on, which they would do till they dropped.

Lucas lowered his spyglasses and leaned toward Arnold. “Up there on the right. That’s got to be it.”

Arnold squinted in the dying light. “Don’t like the parking lots around the buildings. That place could turn into a killing field in a flash.”

“We’re pregnant now. Let’s get this over with.”

“See anything suspicious?”

“No. But with this many houses around us, we’d never see it coming.”

“That’s reassuring. Probably true, though. Whoever picked this wasn’t really thinking,” Arnold agreed.

“Or they don’t have much field craft.”

They rode past an overgrown playing field, and Lucas eyed the large main structure: most of its glass was missing, and graffiti marred the exterior. Sierra spurred Nugget forward until she drew abreast of Lucas.

“Where are we supposed to meet them?” she asked.

“Inside. Assembly hall.”

“It’ll be dark pretty soon.”

Lucas nodded, the increasing danger obvious. “We’re on time.”

“How will we find the hall?”

“One problem at a time.”

They rode across the parking lot to the main entrance, which stood open like a gaping mouth. Lucas dropped from the saddle and Arnold did the same. He looked back at Colt’s and George’s horses and peered up at Sierra.

“You and John wait out here with the animals. If you see anything suspicious, shoot first and ask questions later.”

“I’d rather come with you,” Sierra said.

Lucas shook his head. “John’s got a bum wing. He’ll need your help in a clinch.”

She didn’t look thrilled, but held her tongue.

Arnold looked to Lucas. “Let’s go in and see if we can find our welcoming committee. Only got a few minutes before the sun sets.”

Lucas nodded. “After you.”

Arnold stepped across shards of glass littering the entryway and stepped over the threshold. Lucas followed him in, and they took a moment to let their eyes adjust to the gloom. Arnold continued forward, leading with his rifle, and Lucas did the same with his M4, the night vision scope now glowing. Arnold’s boots crunched on the broken glass and the sound reverberated off the walls. They both froze when a furry form scuttled across their path, the rat scurrying so fast it was a blur.

Arnold drew a deep breath and turned his head toward Lucas before pushing on, listening intently as they descended deeper into the bowels of the building. Rusting lockers loomed in rows on either side of them, and a pool of muddy water blocked most of the passage where a skylight had failed. Arnold edged along the side of it and gestured to a sign identifying classrooms down one corridor, and administrative offices, cafeteria, and assembly hall down the other.

“Ask and you shall receive,” he whispered.

Lucas said nothing, the thudding of his pulse in his ears unwanted company as he and Arnold found the way.

At the junction of halls, Arnold pointed to the left and tapped his chest, and then to the right and to Lucas, who nodded understanding. Arnold took a deep breath and swung around the corner with his rifle, and Lucas did the same, facing the opposite direction.

The halls were empty, the remains of looted cabling hanging like black entrails from gaps in the false ceiling. They continued along the passageway until they reached a set of double doors – the cafeteria – and down another hall till they spotted another set, with one standing open under a sign that announced the assembly area.

They crept toward the doorway, moving slowly so their footfalls wouldn’t carry, weight on the sides of their feet to minimize any sound, and started when a voice called out from inside the dark gap.

“That’s far enough.”

They froze, rifles trained on the doorway, and a man stepped into view with a ten-gauge shotgun. He was razor thin, his hair cut a quarter inch from his skull, with a birdlike nose and heavy black-rimmed glasses. They stared at each other for a long beat, and then he lowered his weapon. “Code word?” he snapped.

“Elliot.”

That brought a nervous smile. “Welcome.”

Arnold shook his head. “What’s yours?”

“Thor.”

Arnold dropped the barrel of his gun so it pointed at the floor, and Lucas did the same. The man stepped forward with his hand outstretched. “I’m Lisle.”

“Arnold. You alone?” Arnold asked, taking his hand and shaking it.

“No.”

“Where are the others?”

“Don’t sweat it. You have something for me?”

“That’s right,” Arnold said.

Lisle raised an eyebrow and looked Arnold and Lucas over. “Where?”

“We left our horses outside. In the saddlebags. Two containers – one of vaccine, the other of cultures.”

“Well protected, I hope.”

“Of course.”

“Go get them. I don’t want to be here a minute longer than we have to be.”

“Will do.” Arnold glanced at Lucas. “If you’ll do the honors, I’ll stay here and keep Lisle company.”

Lucas departed wordlessly and retraced his path to the entry. When he reached it, the sun was sinking fast. He crossed to Arnold’s horse and retrieved the containers.

“Are they there?” Sierra whispered.

Lucas nodded wordlessly and returned to the entrance, the containers under his left arm and his rifle gripped in his right hand. Lisle had been smart to keep his party hidden – assuming there was a party at all. In the event of something going wrong, he’d be the only casualty, and they could get away, depending on where they were hidden.

Which wasn’t Lucas’s concern. Once they handed over the containers, they were done.

Arnold was speaking in a low voice to Lisle when Lucas rounded the corner again, and they both looked up at him as he neared. Lisle eyed the containers and smiled. “Go ahead and set them down. I was telling Arnold there’s not much around here, but it’s probably safer in town than on the outskirts. The bandits come out after dark, and they’re active. You should be okay in Springfield, though.”

Lucas placed the containers on the linoleum tile floor and straightened. “That’s it?”

Lisle nodded. “Thanks for bringing it. We’ll take it from here.”

Arnold frowned. “Need any help?”

Lisle shook his head. “I got it.”

“Where do you head from here?” Lucas asked.

“St. Louis. We’ve got a compound there. A bunch of us saw the collapse coming years before it hit and prepped for it. We made it while just about everybody else didn’t.”

Lucas grunted. “A common story.” He stared at Lisle. “Lot of people sacrificed everything to get that to you.”

“I appreciate it,” Lisle said, not moving. “Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but you should get out of here while it’s still safe. We’re under orders not to leave until you do, so I’ve got a vested interest in seeing you go.”

“I understand. We’re done, right?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Safe travels, Lisle. Come on, Lucas. Let’s ride.” Arnold brushed past Lucas and strode down the hall. Lucas backed away from Lisle, reluctant to turn his back on a man with a shotgun, and felt his way down the corridor until he was at the turn.

Once back outside they mounted up. Arnold studied Lucas for a beat. “You want to make camp somewhere with us, or is this it?” he asked.

Lucas looked at Sierra and read her expression with a glance. “We’ll ride to town with you and take off tomorrow. Not really on our way, but better safe, right?”

“He seemed to feel town was a good call.”

“Only one way to see whether he’s right.”

A figure watched from the bell tower of a nearby church as the riders turned onto the road toward Springfield, and then refocused his binoculars on the school, waiting for the group that had entered two hours before to exit with the containers. He raised a two-way radio to his lips and murmured into it before setting it down, all the time focused on the school, waiting for his quarry to show themselves.

Chapter 26

Lucas and Sierra led the way north and were at the outskirts of Springfield little more than an hour after leaving the school. They were crossing an open stretch, the outlines of homes dark against the night, when Arnold called from behind them.

“Looks like a guard post ahead.”

Lucas peered through his NV scope and saw a low bunker with the distinctive barrel of a machine gun poking from it.

“Good eyes. I must be more tired than I thought.”

They closed the distance to a sandbagged blockade, and a voice called out when they were twenty yards away.

“That’s as far as you go.”

Lucas spotted the speaker – a man near the machine gun, wearing a night vision monocle. “We need to get to town.”

“Not after dark, you don’t. Those are the rules.”

“Since when?” Arnold countered.

“Since that became the rule.”

“First we heard of it.”

“Come back tomorrow.”

Lucas looked at Sierra. “We were told it isn’t safe to camp outside town.”

“That’s true. But tonight you’re in luck.” The man pointed to the east. “There’s a tent revival over yonder. Draws a lot of folks. They all camp out, so they’ll have plenty of guards. Nobody messes with them. You should be fine if you bunk over there.”

“We haven’t eaten for a good while,” Sierra tried.

“Sorry to hear that. They should have food for barter.”

“Can’t you make an exception tonight? We’re obviously not trouble.”

“Afraid not. Nobody passes. And a word of warning – the town’s got fencing up, and they patrol it. If they catch you without a pass, it won’t go well.”

Arnold shook his head. “Friendly bunch, aren’t you?”

“We been having problems with raids lately. Only not since we started closing the town at night. So think what you will.”

“There’s nothing we could say that would make you change your mind?” Sierra asked, her voice dripping honey.

“Sorry, lady. Rules are rules. Come back at daybreak.”

Lucas and Arnold had a hushed discussion, and they agreed to try the revival. There would be safety in numbers if the guard was telling the truth, and they had nothing to lose by giving it a shot. Lucas was against the idea at first on principle, but Arnold pointed out that now they were just travelers with nothing to hide, so there was no point in avoiding people, provided they were friendly.

As they approached the field where a huge tent was raised, they could see torches burning in a ring around it and men with guns positioned every fifty yards. One of the guards spotted them and called out.

“Keep your hands where I can see ’em and ride into the light, nice and slow.”

“We’re here for the revival,” Sierra said, and the man relaxed a little at the sound of a female voice.

“That’s fine, but no sudden moves. Let’s get a good look at you.”

They coaxed their horses forward until the guard could make them out. Lucas tipped the brim of his hat. “Where can we tie our horses and water them? Ridden a decent ways for this.”

The man seemed to like what he saw in Sierra and waved toward the tent. “You’ll see the other animals over yonder. There’s some boys watching them. Toss ’em a few bullets and they’ll take care of yours too – brush ’em, feed ’em, whatever you want.”

“Is our stuff safe in the saddlebags?” Sierra whispered to Lucas.

He shrugged and eyed the guard. “Where do we make camp?”

“You’ll see where everybody else is.”

“All right. Much obliged.”

“No problem. Welcome, and bless you all.”

“Likewise.”

They rode to the far side of the tent, where a primitive corral had been created from wooden poles with rope strung between them. A couple of teenagers so thin Lucas could see their ribs through their shirts moved to help with the horses. Sierra pointed to their right, where at least fifty tents were pitched and another twenty or thirty bedrolls lay on the ground.