“He and a group of others managed to slip out through the water pipes.”
“Wonderful. And Locke? What happened to him?”
“He wasn’t so fortunate.”
“He’s dead?”
Mason envisioned Locke lying face down in the water-filled culvert behind the sheet metal plant.
“Yes.”
“And Brooke? What about her?” A nervous tremor had crept into Jessie’s voice.
Mason should have known better than to think he could escape the topic of an ex-lover, and while lying would have been easier, it was not in his nature.
“I’m escorting her to the New Colony.”
Jessie said nothing for several seconds.
“I’m sorry, Jess. I have to do it.”
Finally, she said, “It’s okay.”
“You understand why, right?”
“Of course, I do. It’s your duty.”
Duty. No single word had ever caused Mason so much trouble.
“That’s right. It is.”
“You do what you need to and then come home to me.”
“That’s the plan.” His eyes were drawn to the dark clouds growing ever closer, the air becoming noticeably cooler by the minute. “Jessie, I’m afraid I’m going to have to sign off for now.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
He wasn’t sure how to say it without sounding like an absolute fool.
“I’m sort of hanging from the side of a tower, watching a thunderstorm roll in.”
“A tower?”
“A navy radio tower by the looks of it.”
“Mason Raines, you get down from there right now!”
He smiled. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll call again when I get to the New Colony.”
“Please do.” She paused. “I love you, Mason.”
It was the first time she had said the words, and he felt a lump form in his throat. Love was the other word that seemed to cause him so much trouble.
“I love you too, Jessie. Mason out.”
He turned off the radio and clipped it back to his belt. Thunderstorm or not, the world suddenly seemed a little rosier. As if to argue the point, a huge flash of lightning lit the sky, followed by the immediate stomp of thunder.
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. My road is never going to be an easy one. No need to remind me.”
Mason began his careful descent down the ladder. Twice he lost his footing, but both times he recovered with little more than an adrenalin-induced fright. By the time he reached the bottom of the tower, he could hear the roar of rain approaching in the distance. He was going to get absolutely drenched.
Oh well. It had been worth it.
As Mason stepped away from the tower, he turned and came face to face with a monster of a man, thick with muscle and filled with rage. For a moment, his mind refused to accept what he was seeing. There was, after all, no logical explanation that put such an enemy before him. It wasn’t until he met the man’s hate-filled stare that Mason accepted that his past had somehow caught up with him. And that past had a name.
Beebie.
Chapter 4
As Issa stood before Mother, she couldn’t completely quiet the burning pain from where Musketeer’s spear had scraped her side. It had been a long night of waiting, but in the end, she had gotten her revenge. Unfortunately, Mother didn’t seem to fully appreciate her need to take the man’s life.
“Why, Issa? Why would you kill our only known conspirator?” Her tone was somewhere between disappointment and frustration.
“I was fighting for my life,” she touched her swollen stomach, “and for that of my child.”
Mother’s eyes squinted. “Yet why is it I can’t help but believe that you could have taken him alive?”
Issa shrugged. “He didn’t deserve to live.”
“But I told you I needed him!” Mother’s voice was climbing, and her two troglodyte bodyguards began to grow stiff with anticipation of being called on to enact their duties.
Issa met her angry stare. “You knew what you were getting when you asked me to do this.”
Mother slowly let out a resigned breath.
“Yes, I did. Did you at least learn if he was acting alone?”
“He made mention of others who oppose you.”
“Names?”
Issa shook her head.
“Then we have nothing.”
“We have a confession of guilt and a suggestion that he was not acting alone. That’s something.”
Mother thought for a moment.
“I’ll speak with General Gaius. Perhaps he can uncover who else might be plotting sedition. You, however,” her eyes settled on Issa, “you should lay low for a while. This killing may not go unnoticed.”
“Two days,” Issa said, reminding Mother of her promise to allow her to leave at that time. “After that, I go in search of my husband and daughter.”
“That was the agreement,” Mother said with a nod. “In the meantime, if someone should happen to make an attempt on your life, perhaps you could avoid cutting their throat?”
“I can offer no such promise.”
Mother shook her head in wonder.
“You would rather I allow myself to become a victim?” sniped Issa.
“Of course not. It’s just that at times when I look at you, I see a beautiful young mother-to-be, full of love and kindness. Yet other times, I see a cold, ruthless warrior with so much fury in her heart that it seems as if you might burst into flames. Be careful which one you let rule your actions.”
Issa’s eyes tightened. “To survive in this world, a woman has to be willing to be both. You of all people should know that.” She glanced over at the door to Mother’s chambers. “Are we finished?”
“One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“If elements were to rise up to overthrow me, would you stand against them? Or are you so far removed from this community that you no longer feel any such loyalty?” The question seemed to be asked in earnest, not a baited trap awaiting the wrong response.
“Do you really fear such an uprising?”
Rather than answering directly, Mother said, “The whispers have not escaped my ears. So, I would know, where do you stand, Issa?”
She took a moment to consider her answer carefully.
“You saved me when I was at my darkest, saved all of us.” Issa straightened. “I would fight against any who try to harm you, save for my husband or daughter.”
Mother smiled. “Then you would be wise to swing by the armory and retrieve your rifle. I fear a time may be coming when your allegiance will be tested.”
“You would let me have my rifle?” Even the thought of holding the big Merkel made Issa feel safer.
“No dear, I would insist on it.”
By the time Issa recovered her rifle and returned to the barracks, it was nearly midday. She was pleasantly surprised to see Musketeer’s body removed and the blood more or less mopped up. She couldn’t help but wonder who Mother had sent to do the cleanup and what exactly they had been told.
Musketeer had come not only to kill her, but to punish her in the worst possible ways. His hatred for her and her baby had been insatiable. She represented a future that he simply could not tolerate. Her heart quickened as she remembered dodging the point of his jagged spear. A few inches to the left, and she and her baby would both be dead.
Her eyes settled on the bloodstain smeared across the floor.
“But for the grace of God,” she mumbled. It was one of her father’s favorite sayings, his way of expressing thanks for ill fortune barely avoided.
She stood quietly for a moment longer and then stumbled toward her bunk. Hanging the fanny pack stuffed with Nosler .470 Nitro Express cartridges from the bed post, she sat and rested the big gun across her lap. The double-barreled rifle was so old that the bluing had been worn away and the arabesque engraving tarnished and scratched. She gently stroked it like she might a cat. The rifle was more than a powerful killing
instrument. It was a token of Tanner’s love, and in it, she could feel his life force.
She pushed the unlocking lever sideways and opened the breech.
Empty.
She couldn’t recall if she had left it that way. More likely, the armorer had unloaded it.
Unzipping the fanny pack, Issa withdrew one of the four-inch brass cartridges. She rubbed the pad of her thumb over the 500-grain flat nose bullet. It was a cartridge best suited to killing elephants, lions, and Cape Buffalos. Tanner had said that it would kill anything that walked the earth, and to date, nothing had proven him wrong.
She carefully inserted two cartridges into the gun and snapped the breech shut. If Mother was right and someone did come looking for retribution, she would be ready.
Issa yawned, her eyes growing heavy. It had been a hell of a night, emotional and violent, but most of all, long. She leaned the Merkel against the bed frame and lay back on the pillow. After a time, she closed her eyes and her breathing naturally slowed. Her thoughts went to Tanner and Samantha. Were they safe and on their way back to her? Or had something terrible forced a detour?
She draped her arms across her chest and imagined Tanner’s strong embrace, the seductive feel of his breath against her ear.
“My love,” she whispered, “where are you?”
Chapter 5
Tanner and Samantha stuck to the railroad tracks as they rode through the hollow shell of a city that was once called Louisville. Businesses had been looted or burned, houses plundered, and cars abandoned along the roadways. Trash littered the streets, and packs of dogs roamed free to filter through the garbage, or better yet, feast on the bodies of those who had fallen victim to violence.
The occasional gunshot or scream affirmed what Tanner and Samantha already knew. Life for those who remained within the city was a daily fight for survival. Louisville was as dour a place as any they had seen, and both breathed a sigh of relief as they navigated a narrow bridge across the Ohio River.
“What a lovely place to visit,” Samantha muttered under her breath.
“Probably better in the springtime,” he said with a smile.
She glanced back at the lifeless steel buildings and roadways jammed with burned out cars.
“Somehow I doubt that.”
They continued on for another few miles, following the railroad as it paralleled East 10th Street. Stores gave way to untended farmland, industrial buildings, and the occasional subdivision. A string of enormous white sheet metal buildings sprawled off to the east, no doubt warehouses of some type, although without signs there was no way to know exactly what they stored.
As they rounded a sharp bend, Major came to a sudden halt and let out a frightened whinny. About fifty yards ahead lay the wreckage of a freight train. A dozen black and gray rail cars had derailed after colliding with a tractor trailer someone had left parked across the tracks. The collision had buckled the thick steel rails, bending them into the air like giant strands of silver wire.
As the carriages derailed, one car after another had toppled over into the soft dirt. Only the lead engine remained upright, and it had become forever entangled with what was left of the tractor trailer. It hadn’t been a spectacular crash, but it had definitely been the end of the line.
Samantha sat up straight, her eyes opening wide.
“Tanner…”
“I see it.”
She leaned around to get a better look.
“Do you think that’s it? Is that the gold train?”
Tanner didn’t bother reminding her that things rarely came so easy for them.
“Let’s go see.”
Samantha slid off the horse, and Tanner stepped down next to her, pulling the Mare’s Leg free as he did. Together, they slowly approached the wreckage. There were no signs of a struggle, no bodies or shell casings lying scattered about. Whoever had been aboard the train had apparently left without much of a fuss.
As they approached the closest of the overturned cars, they saw that the cargo door lay partially buried in the dirt. A narrow hole still allowed access, and there was a smattering of footprints and drag marks in front of it.
“It looks like someone may have gotten here before us,” she said, pointing to the tracks.
“Story of my life, darlin’.”
“My mom used to say if you’re always late for things, maybe you should consider getting up a little earlier.”
“Spoken like a true morning person.”
Tanner clicked on his flashlight and squatted down to get a better look. Even on his knees, the door remained a little too low for him to see inside the carriage.
“No offense,” she said, “but you’ll never fit.”
“Since when have you ever worried about offending me, especially when it comes to my size?”
She smiled. “Your size. That’s cute.”
He cut his eyes at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh nothing, just that someone less considerate than me might have used the word weight, or girth, or perhaps poundage.”
He patted his stomach. “Speaking of which, I am getting hungry.”
“See.”
“You could use a little nourishment yourself, string bean.”
“I’ll have you know I’ve put on ten pounds since we met.”
“That’s because you’re a kid. You’re supposed to be growing. You don’t want to end up like Sister Bertrille, do you?”
Samantha’s brow furrowed. “Who?”
He smiled. The Flying Nun was way before her time.
“She was a nun who was so light that a good gust of wind would take her up into the sky like a kite.”
“Wow, that sounds cool. But wouldn’t it be dangerous? I mean, what happens when the wind dies down? Or worse yet, what if it blew her all the way up into space?”
“It was a TV show, Sam.”
“TV show? You mean she wasn’t real?”
“Of course not.”
“So, let me get this right. You, a big burly man who’s only one step removed from a sasquatch, watched a TV show about a flying nun?”
“What can I say? It was a different time.”
“What, like morning?”
“No, not like morning,” he growled. “What I mean is that the world was different back then. People were more good-natured.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “At least, I found them to be.”
“So, what changed?”
“Mankind always moves in cycles. For a time, people come together and appreciate our shared experience. Flowers bloom, babies laugh, and all is right with the world.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Sure it is, but eventually, people grow bored or complacent, and darkness begins to take root. Once that happens, it grows and grows until the world is all but swallowed up by selfishness and vice.”
“I feel like that’s where we’re at today.”
He nodded. “I agree. Fortunately, when things are at their darkest, a spark of goodness is born out of despair. Then the process starts all over again. It’s just our way.”
She stared at him with a look of awe.
“What?” he said, rubbing his mouth and chin. “Something on me?”
“I’m just amazed that you put together such an interesting idea.”
“Are you suggesting that I don’t normally have interesting ideas?”
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Usually, you’re like, ‘Ugh, me want food.’”
“There you go making me hungry again.”
“See!” she giggled.
He stood up and passed her the flashlight.
“See what’s in there, will you?”
Samantha squatted down and shined the light through the hole.
“It’s awfully dark.”
“No need to go all the way in. Just poke your head in enough to take a look around.”
“Yeah, like nothing could go wrong with that plan.”
&nb
sp; Samantha lowered onto to her belly and high-crawled through the opening. It was terribly dark, and the sunlight shining behind her seemed to only make it worse.
She slowly swept the flashlight from one corner of the car to the other. It was empty except for the clump of a body lying against the far wall. Even with the flashlight, she had trouble making out whether it was a man or woman. The bones were sticking out at odd angles, like a jigsaw puzzle pieced together in the wrong order. She inched a little closer to get a better look.
“What do you see?” Tanner called from outside.
“A body, I think.”
“You think?”
“It looks sort of broken up.”
“Probably snapped a few bones in the crash. Anything else?”
She did another quick sweep with the flashlight.
“Nope.”
“Come on out, and we’ll check the next one.” He grabbed her feet and began dragging her out.
Spotting several long scratches on the carriage floor, she hollered, “Hold up a sec!”
“Why? What is it?”
She crawled closer to get a better look. The light reflected off the deepest of the gouges with an unusually bright glint. She gently ran her fingers over the long scrape. When she studied their tips, she saw that they were coated in tiny flakes of gold.
She called back over her shoulder.
“Okay, pull me out!”
Tanner dragged her out, and she slowly got back to her feet.
“This is it. This is the gold train.”
“You’re sure?”
She held her fingers up for him to see.
“The gold left little filings on the floor when they crashed.” She turned and surveyed the rest of the train. “I wonder if they managed to take it all.”
Tanner turned and started for the next carriage.
“Only one way to find out.”
The next car was empty. The two after that contained evidence of people having lived aboard them, food wrappers, water bottles, and dirty rags scattered about, but neither contained a single bar of gold. As Samantha inspected the last of the carriages, her hopes of finding anything valuable were officially dashed.
The Survivalist (Solemn Duty) Page 5
