The Day After Never - Retribution (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 4) (30 page)

“He’s not what he seems, Sierra. He was Jacob’s inside man.”

“I…I don’t understand. He’s in charge of security in Lubbock, as well as the vaccine development. He’s not our friend.”

Whitely nodded. “It’s true I was in charge of security and the vaccine – that’s one of the reasons you were able to escape, and why the effort to develop an effective vaccine’s gone nowhere so far. Jacob and I agreed early on that the best way to stop Magnus was to work from the inside.”

“You killed him, didn’t you?” she spat.

“No. Magnus’s men did.”

“You let it happen.”

“I had no choice, Sierra. It was either sacrifice Jacob, or the entire resistance would have lost any ability to stop the vaccine. That couldn’t happen.”

“So you say. You’re alive; he isn’t.”

“I just saved your son, Sierra. And got you out of deep weeds here. You’re still breathing because of me.” Whitely let his words sink in.

“Why? Doesn’t this jeopardize your standing with the Crew?” Lucas asked.

“I’m afraid so. But it doesn’t matter now that the vaccine’s in the field and being distributed.”

Lucas indicated Zach’s corpse. “Who was he really?”

“Illuminati. Or rather, he worked for them. They’ve been directing the Crew’s efforts against you.”

“What? I thought they didn’t exist.”

“Oh, unfortunately evil like theirs has always existed and always will in one form or another.”

“He fed me some cock-and-bull story about Elliot being a megalomaniac, wanting to rule the world.”

“Nonsense, of course. If you’ve spent any time with Elliot, you’d know that’s a lie. He’s one of the most benevolent and caring men on earth.”

“I didn’t believe him.”

“Nor should you. But remember that’s how these creatures work – they control through duplicity, through misdirection, by twisting the truth and mixing it with lies so artfully crafted you can’t tell the difference. They’ve had a lot of practice at it, and they don’t care who loses as long as they win.”

“You sound like you’re well versed on their tactics.”

“Oh, both Elliot and I know them well.”

Sierra spoke up. “I don’t trust him, Lucas. He says the Illuminati lie to fool people, but it seems to me they’re not the only ones. I’ve seen him in action.”

“Sierra, I know you hate me, and I can’t say I blame you, but think for a moment,” Whitely said. “You waltzed out of Lubbock and got away clean. Do you really in your gut believe that was an accident? Or do you think it might be possible that I ran cover for you and directed the security forces down blind alleys so you had time to get away?”

Sierra’s anger seemed less sure. “Which could all be lies.”

“You’re standing here with your boy, in one piece, and you think I did this to…to trick you in some way?”

“It could be. Maybe you want to find out where Shangri-La is so you can sell us out.”

“Sierra, I have no interest in where Elliot’s holed up. I just hope he’s done a good job and can stay hidden, because my experience with the Crew and men like this one is they don’t quit.”

“So what now?” Lucas asked. “What are you going to do?”

Whitely managed a tired smile. “That’s none of your concern. I’ve accomplished what I needed to do. Now I fade into the background, and you go on with your lives.”

“You can’t go back to the Crew,” Lucas countered.

Whitely gave a snort. “No kidding.”

“So that’s it? You just walk away?” Lucas asked.

“My role in this little chapter is over. Yours is just beginning. Don’t worry about me. Take care of your own. I’ll be fine.” Whitely eyed Sierra. “Now, if you don’t mind, my head’s splitting, and I’d like to get out of this soup at some point.”

“Stay there until we’re gone, Whitely,” Lucas warned. “I don’t want to have to shoot you.”

“I’ll stand here like a statue, Lucas. I’ve come this far without being gunned down. I’d like to extend my winning streak a little longer.”

“And don’t try to follow us,” Sierra growled.

“Sierra, if I’d wanted to kill you, you’d be dead. Get out of here before the Crew follows the gunshots and this all becomes a moot point.”

Lucas headed over to Sierra and the animals. “It’s time. Mount up.”

“You’re just going to let him go?” Sierra asked.

Lucas studied Whitely for a long beat before angling his face toward Sierra, his eyes never drifting from the older man. “Seems like you may have that one backwards.”

Whitely smiled, and Lucas nodded to him as he climbed onto Tango’s back and spun the horse around, twisting as he did so. Whitely remained motionless, his hands raised at chest level until Lucas and Sierra vanished into the drizzle, the rain washing away the blood from his face, his expression unreadable.

Chapter 47

Elliot, Michael, and Arnold watched as Craig wiped the sweat from his forehead while he labored to retrofit the pump they’d retrieved from the mothballed plant. There had been some differences in capacities, and he’d had to modify the piping into the pump, this one being slightly smaller than the one that had failed, but he’d calculated that operating at fifty percent capacity, the generator wouldn’t overstrain the parts and could function indefinitely – or at least as long as it would take to get the machine shop up to speed to manufacture suitable spare parts, and source more gasket material for the seals.

“How much longer?” Michael asked.

“Don’t know. Maybe an hour or so. Don’t want to rush this and blow it,” Craig answered.

“No, that wouldn’t do at all,” Elliot said. “ I guess we’ll leave you to it, then.”

“You’ll know when I flip the switch.”

“Good man.”

They left the geothermal site and walked down the main street toward the community center. A dusting of snow still covered the road and the homes that lined it, and the surrounding mountains were a dazzling white in the high-altitude sun. The trip back had taken a day longer than the one to reach the mothballed facility, due to the speed at which the young girls had been able to goad their horses along.

“Did you get any sense from Duke about his interest in setting up a trading post?” Elliot asked Arnold as they passed the darkened remains of a strip mall.

“No. But I know Aaron’s death hit him hard.”

“Were they…?” Michael asked, leaving the end of the question off.

Arnold shook his head. “No, nothing like that. They’d just been through a lot together. You see that in combat. You grow close – there’s a special kind of bond that’s hard to explain.”

“Who’s our second choice if Duke decides not to do it?” Michael asked.

“We don’t really have one, although Luis indicated he’d be game.”

“I still don’t trust him,” Arnold said.

“He’s given you no reason not to.”

“Once a criminal, always one.”

“Well, in actuality, no,” Elliot said. “There are plentiful examples of sinners who came to find religion late and went on to lead productive lives. Might have been that circumstance drove him into the life. Judge not, and all that.”

“Spoken like a bleeding heart liberal,” Arnold grumbled.

“A distinction that has no meaning these days, my good man.”

“I like Sal and the girls,” Michael said, changing the subject. “They’re good additions.”

Elliot nodded. “Agreed. It’s becoming obvious that if we’re to thrive, we need more like them. Sal’s strong as an ox and resourceful, and the sisters are capable, if somewhat scarred from their experience.”

“I wish it was possible to shoot those shitrats all over again a dozen times. Sal filled us in on what went down. A despicable bunch,” Arnold said.

“All the more reason to value our way of life. Which can’t continue unless we grow,” Elliot said. “You go back to the lab; I’ll be there shortly. I’m going to pay a call on our trader friend and see how he’s doing.”

“I’ve got some things that need doing,” Arnold said, his enthusiasm for Michael’s company clear.

“Yeah, me too,” Michael said. “I’ll stop in later.”

They went their separate ways, and Elliot trundled to Duke’s house, nodding at passing residents on the way, the general mood optimistic and their smiles sunny in spite of the chill. When he reached the trader’s small clapboard house, Duke was sitting on his porch at a small table, playing cards with Luis and John. They looked up as Elliot mounted the steps, and Duke nodded to him.

“Pull up a chair. We’re just killing time,” Duke said, indicating a rickety wooden stool by the door.

Elliot smiled at the men. “Gentlemen.” He glanced at Duke. “Need to have a word with you about the matter we discussed,” Elliot said.

Duke raised an eyebrow. “I was wondering when you’d circle back about that.”

“We need to establish a presence so we can vet and recruit people. That’s now the top priority for us, aside from the vaccine.”

“Right. That’s
your
top priority. I understand that,” Duke said.

“I’m asking for your help. If you don’t want to run the place, I understand. But at least set it up so someone else can take it over. Nobody in our group has operated a trading post but you.”

“Funny, because Luis and John here were just discussing that. We were talking about what to do next now that everything’s calmed down and now that at least two of us are rich.” Duke sighed. “Always thought being rich would feel different, but apparently it’s just like being poor. At least after the end of the world.” Duke smirked at Luis. “Which kind of sucks. We got robbed.”

“Always the bridesmaid,” Luis agreed.

“You don’t want your gold, I’ll take it,” John quipped.

Duke chuckled. “It would just ruin you, young man.”

“I’m ready for ruin.”

Elliot smiled good-naturedly, but his eyes stayed on Duke. “And what did you decide?”

Duke laid his cards facedown on the table. “Well, I figured you wouldn’t give up till I said yes, so we decided I’d help these boys set it up and run it for a while, and when I get bored with it, or they get sick of me ordering them around, I’ll let them run it into the ground and come back here to enjoy my retirement.”

Elliot beamed at them. “Why, that’s wonderful news! Let me know what you need and when you plan to leave.”

“Never hurts to have a bunch of stuff to trade, for starters. And animals to carry it.”

“Consider it done.”

“We’re going to ride out tomorrow and scope out a location while we’ve got a break in the weather. Seeing as there’s no power, there’s no point in hanging around here,” Duke said.

“That should be resolved shortly, actually. Craig’s wrenching away as we speak.”

“Still. Don’t fancy riding in a blizzard, and our window’s closing.”

Elliot nodded agreement. “Just give me a list of your requirements, and I’ll see to them.”

“Send lawyers, guns, and money,” Luis said.

“Or in this case, a radio, guns and ammo, and meds. Those will be the most valuable out of the gate. I can handle the gold part,” Duke offered.

“And keep all the profit to yourself,” Luis grumbled. “Not a chance. Fifty-fifty.”

Elliot left them to their bickering, his step lighter now that his errand was successfully concluded. He had faith that the trader would pick a good spot and have a thriving enterprise in no time, even though the weather would slow any traffic until spring. But as long as they had a hub to qualify and recruit promising candidates, they would prosper.

Female laughter reached his ears as he continued toward the lab, and he returned a wave from Cody, Sal’s middle sister, who was playing with her siblings while Sal worked on the roof of the abandoned house they’d selected. The young man stopped hammering and offered a salute, and then went back to patching holes as Elliot continued on.

“We’ll be just fine,” he said under his breath, and he offered silent thanks as he gazed up at the sky’s brilliant blue, the afternoon idyllic in the way only late autumn in the mountains could be. “Indeed we will,” he finished, and continued on to the community center, where hopefully soon the lights would come back on and he’d be able to continue the job of saving the world from itself.

Chapter 48

Houston, Texas

Lassiter’s unblinking stare bored holes through Snake as the Crew warlord reported on his organization’s progress; or rather, the lack of it, since Zach had been found dead outside Alexandria. Snake had returned to his home base in Texas once New Orleans stabilized, and reasserted his role as the master of ceremonies at the evening executions that placated the public and punished those who challenged him. The big navy vessel had reappeared at the port that morning, and Snake had dreaded the meeting he knew was inevitable.

“So, in the end, my man’s dead, and your trusted security chief has disappeared,” Lassiter summarized, after Snake’s rambling narrative.

Snake thought about the abrupt summary and decided not to challenge the lack of nuance. “That’s right.”

“And you’ve lost the man you had in custody, as well as the boy, who was the only leverage you had to ensnare the woman.” Lassiter paused. “And you have no idea where any of them are now and no coherent plan to find them. Did I cover everything?”

“We’ve put out a huge reward. It’s just a matter of time until someone spots them and turns them in.”

“Assuming they’re careless enough to allow themselves to be seen. Have they seemed especially careless to you so far?”

“Nobody can stay hidden forever,” Snake assured him with a confidence he didn’t feel.

“To say we’re disappointed in this performance is an understatement.”

“Look, from what we can piece together, it was your guy who was calling the shots. So if you’re unhappy with the way things turned out, blame Zach, not me.”

“I’m not looking to assign blame. I need this problem solved.” Lassiter studied Snake’s face like he was examining an insect under a magnifying glass. “Perhaps our faith in the Crew’s ability to perform was misguided.”

“Like my faith that you’d fix the refinery,” Snake fired back. “Still waiting for that to happen. Maybe if we had fuel, we could search for the woman more effectively.”

Lassiter motioned impatiently with his hand. “You don’t just wave a wand and fix a refinery that’s been down for five years. We’ve discussed this.”