Chapter 13
Sierra craned her neck to see why Ruby had opened the root cellar door. It was pitch black inside, twilight having come and gone an hour before, and they had settled down for the night. Eve was snuffling nearby on her bedroll, and Sierra frowned in the darkness from the sleeping area at Ruby’s silhouette framed in the doorway by faint moonlight.
“Do you hear that?” Ruby whispered.
“I’m trying to sleep.”
“Listen.”
Sierra sighed and forced herself to her feet. She joined the older woman at the threshold and cocked her head. After listening for several moments, she shrugged and made to return to her bedroll.
“Wolves,” Sierra said.
Ruby shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“I heard them before, when we were on the trail from Dallas. They howl like that at night.”
Ruby turned and felt in her things for the night vision monocle, and then whispered to Sierra, “Stay here.”
“Where are you going?” Sierra asked, her voice now concerned.
“Take a look around.” She paused. “You might want to wake Eve up and get her ready to move.”
“Wake her? Why?”
“Because I said so,” Ruby snapped, shorter with the younger woman than she’d intended to be.
Ruby pushed up the steps and out into the field. Jax and Nugget were standing by the trees, and they raised their heads as she approached. She approached the animals and murmured reassurance to them, and then her ears perked up at the sound of another faint lowing from the north.
Ruby hurried through the field of tall grass to a rise of hill. She stood beside an outcropping of rock and scanned the area with the monocle. The landscape was basked in a green glow, and then her breath caught in her chest when she saw men in the distance, one of them with dogs straining at their leashes.
Bloodhounds.
Moving toward the root cellar from the bunker.
Following their scent.
The party was still at least three-quarters of a mile away and moving slowly, but Ruby didn’t hesitate. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her back to the cellar and whispered through the doorway.
“The cartel is back. With dogs. We have to go. Grab your saddle and kit,” she ordered, and then stopped at the sight of Sierra standing just inside the door. “Where’s Eve? Did you wake her?”
Sierra shook her head. “I will now.”
Ruby’s mouth was a thin line. “You better get with the program, or you’re going to get yourself killed. If I tell you to do something, you do it.”
Sierra spun and moved to the sleeping quarters while Ruby gathered her bug-out bag and saddle. She carried them outside and then headed back for her nylon saddlebags. Sierra was leading a sleepy Eve from the back, who looked up at Ruby through puffy eyes.
“We have to go?” Eve asked.
“Yes, sweetheart. And we need to be very, very quiet,” Ruby cautioned.
“Okay.”
“You need help with your saddle?” Ruby asked Sierra, aware that her wounds were still healing.
“If you could. How far away are they?”
“Pretty damn close.”
Ruby carried Sierra’s saddle up the steps as the younger woman hoisted her bags, and within minutes they had Nugget and the mule ready to ride. Ruby helped Eve up onto Sierra’s saddle and then climbed onto Jax, ears straining for any sound of pursuit. She could tell by the sound that the dogs were definitely nearer, and Ruby drove the mule forward while using the monocle to see. Nugget followed at a quick walk, and when they reached the limits of the property, Ruby paused to take a bearing with her compass.
“We head that way,” she said, pointing southwest toward the mountains.
“I told you they’d never give up.”
“They can’t move very fast. They have to stay on foot for the dogs to follow the trail, so if we pick up the pace, we should be able to stay way ahead of them.”
“But they’ll find us eventually. They always do.”
“Not necessarily. We can skirt the river and make our way to Blue Springs. Maybe the water will wash away the scent,” Ruby said. “Or at least make it harder to follow.”
“Is there someplace shallow we can cross, to switch it up?”
“We can keep an eye out,” Ruby said, her tone doubtful.
“You think that will work?”
“I don’t know that much about tracking dogs, but I’ve heard they’re persistent.”
Sierra’s voice increased in pitch somewhat with anxiety. “Then what do we do?”
“We try everything we can, and pray.”
“That doesn’t sound very hopeful. Maybe we should ambush them or something?”
“There are more than a dozen men, and that’s only the ones in the immediate vicinity. We wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“We can’t run forever.”
Ruby nodded. “True, but we can run for a long time. Remember that they have to go slow. We don’t.”
“How far to Blue Springs?”
Ruby looked at her oddly. “Ten miles. Didn’t you hear Lucas and me discussing it?”
“Oh. That’s right.” Sierra paused. “Look, Ruby, I’m sorry about not waking Eve up. I didn’t want to disrupt her sleep. She’s been through so much…”
“I wouldn’t ask you to do something if it wasn’t important.”
“I know. I…I’m not operating at a hundred percent. The meds, the wounds, the stress…I guess I’m just trying to say, maybe you should cut me some slack.”
Ruby bit back her impatience and drew a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right. But I wonder how much slack the Crew’s going to cut you?” she said, and immediately regretted it. Her tone softened. “I know this has been rough. Let’s concentrate on doing the best we can. That’s over now. Let’s keep moving forward.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Ruby dug her heels into Jax’s ribs and the mule lumbered ahead, Ruby directing him with the reins in her left hand and monocle in her right. She hoped that the young woman wouldn’t be a liability, but Sierra’s stubbornness wasn’t a virtue in a survival setting, and the next time she did what she felt best rather than following instructions, it could cost them dearly.
Ruby debated saying so, but decided not to antagonize the younger woman further, opting instead to concentrate her energy forging a path through the brush and finding their way to the river. She tried to remember what she’d read about dogs following a scent, but the specifics eluded her, beyond it being almost impossible to evade them once they were on your tail. She’d tried to sound optimistic about using the river to mask their passage, but at best it would slow the animals, not lose them.
Ruby eyed a slope and directed Jax along the faint outline of a game trail. After ten more minutes, she could make out the sound of rushing water and the air felt more humid, telling her that they weren’t far from the river. Once they were at the water, the animals could drink, and she could test the depth to see whether they could get across. Her instinct told her that even if the dogs picked up their scent again on the far side, crossing back and forth would further stall their progress, and every hour they were searching for a thread to follow was another for Lucas to make it to the rendezvous and help them escape. If they were lucky, it could take days for the cartel to eventually make it to Blue Springs – that was the hope, at any rate.
She didn’t want to consider what might happen if Lucas didn’t return. Fifteen against two were impossible odds, even if everything went in their favor; and so far, nothing had. And with only a shotgun and Sierra’s AR-15, their chances weren’t good in a firefight.
Ruby banished the negative thoughts. It was fruitless to dwell on the situation. For now, they were ahead of the game, and for everyone’s sake, Ruby had to see to it that they remained that way as long as possible.
She shifted in the saddle and urged Jax to greater speed, aware that even under the best of circumstances the
mule was reluctant to move at more than a snail’s pace. “Come on, boy. Just this once, please?” she whispered, and patted his neck.
The mule continued plodding forward with sedulous determination, unswayed by the urgency in his mistress’s voice, picking his way along as though they had all the time in the world.
Chapter 14
Cano watched the trackers guide the dogs around the bunker ruins, trying to acclimate them so they could pick up a scent. They’d been there since dusk, but so far they’d had no success, and he was growing impatient.
The dogs had occurred to him because of another manhunt he’d led in Houston, when a group of scavengers had absconded east with one of Magnus’s drug shipments they’d waylaid. Three days later they’d been skinned alive and crucified by the side of the road as a warning to any like-minded lowlifes, trailed by dogs when all else had failed.
Their quarry had been at the bunker, Cano knew, and even if it had been days ago, the scent might still be fresh enough to follow. The alternative was having to report to Magnus that he’d failed. Better to exhaust every possibility than that.
Cano felt like a death row prisoner as he listened to the trackers discuss what to do next. They’d failed to detect anything distinctive leading from the bunker, even provided with a blanket from the hospital where the woman had been kept hostage. The dogs had led them in circles, but had stopped at the decimated interior of the concrete shelter’s depths, the trail dead from the explosion. He’d already been down to look over the devastation; the bowels of the shelter had been blasted out of recognition and provided no answers about the fate of the men who’d entered.
“What do you think?” Luis asked the handler in frustration. “Can you tell anything at all?” The man lived outside of Pecos on a heavily fortified farm that did business with the cartel, supplying it with vegetables and other foodstuffs in exchange for protection and stolen goods. His pair of bloodhounds had been used with successful results twice before when a rebel faction of the Locos had splintered off and tried to mount a competitive enterprise. He didn’t look particularly happy at having been summoned at dawn and forced to ride north, dogs trotting beside him, but Luis wasn’t interested in the hayseed’s enthusiasm – just results.
“Well, we know she was here by the way they been acting, but problem is they ain’t got anything more’n that.” The man’s West Texas drawl was thick as tar.
“Try having them nose around downstairs again. Maybe we’re missing something.”
“Worth a shot, I guess. Got nothin’ else to go on.”
Fifteen minutes later, Luis reappeared with the handler, a frown on his face. “We found a door, but we can’t get it open. But it’s probably how they made their way out. Dogs were scratching at it. Behind the pantry.”
“What direction does it face?” Cano demanded.
Luis looked uncertain. “South, I think.”
“Fine. If there’s some kind of an escape tunnel, it would have an exit. We’ll have the men spread out and walk the field. Call out if they spot anything suspicious,” Cano said.
“Like what?”
“Like a door that says ‘This way down.’ How would I know?” Cano snapped.
Luis stalked off and spoke in hushed tones to his men, the Crew gunmen gathered with them, awaiting instructions. Soon they were creeping through the high grass, their few night vision-equipped squad leaders forging through the brush and the handler behind them, waiting.
Several minutes into it, a man called out from the right. “Got something here.”
“What is it?”
“Big rock. Looks out of place.” A pause. “It sounds hollow. I just knocked on it. Fake.”
Cano and Luis hurried over to where a Crew gunman was waiting beside a boulder. The man rapped on it and grinned, revealing gold front teeth. Cano nodded, knelt, and attempted to lift the edge, but couldn’t. “It must be locked in place from the inside. Probably a safety latch to keep anyone from knocking it over.”
Luis’s eyebrows rose. “You think they’re still down there?”
The handler arrived with his dogs, and they began sniffing around the base and then moved south with noses to the ground. Cano looked out over the field. “No. Probably long gone. But we’ll soon know where.”
Two hours later they discovered the root cellar, and the dogs went crazy. Cano and Luis threw the doors open, guns leveled at the interior, but found it empty. Luis scowled as he entered and sniffed the air.
“Someone was here not too long ago. Can you tell?”
Cano followed him in and nodded. “Yes. Not long ago at all.”
A cry from the field brought them back up to ground level. “What?” Luis called out.
“Got a bunch of horse droppings. Some of them pretty fresh.”
Cano and Luis exchanged a dark look.
“How fresh?”
“No more’n a few hours.”
Cano walked over to where the man was pointing and stooped to inspect the dung. When he straightened, an ugly expression twisted his heavily inked features.
“They were here. Maybe watching us,” he growled under his breath.
“Could be wild horses,” the Crew member said.
“No. It was them.” Cano turned and eyed the handler. “Can the dogs follow the scent of this horse?”
“They can follow anything.”
“Then get them to track it and let’s see where it leads.”
“Ain’t gonna be quick in this grass.”
“Just do it,” Cano ordered.
“Sure thing, boss,” the handler said, and brought the dogs forward. Soon the man was trailing the animals. Cano and Luis rode behind him on horseback, the rest of the gunmen following in a ragged column. Every now and then one of the dogs would pause, sniff the air and surrounding grass, and let out a low howl to ensure he had the handler’s attention before pushing forward, tail wagging at his success.
The process was stop and go; the dogs would lose the scent and root around in a confused fashion before continuing with another howl. Cano glowered at the handler at a particularly loud ululation.
“Can’t you keep them quiet? They’re giving away our position,” he snarled.
“Sorry, boss. That’s just what they do. Got to take the good with the bad.”
“Whole county knows we’re out here by now.”
Luis drew even with Cano’s horse. “Won’t matter. If you’re right and this is one of their horses, we’ll catch up to them sooner or later.”
“Oh, I’m right. I can feel it in my bones.”
Luis nodded wordlessly and allowed Cano to take the lead again, uninterested in challenging the Crew boss. It wasn’t Luis’s neck on the chopping block if he was wrong, and it was in his best interest to play along, even though he personally found it unlikely that the woman and her rescuers would have stuck around for days after blowing the bunker sky high. If it had been Luis, he would have already been across the border and riding hard, putting a hundred miles under his belt before stopping for breath. Then again, the woman was wounded, so perhaps her condition had required her party to remain stationary so she could recover.
Whatever the case, it wasn’t his problem. Cano would receive all the credit if they were successful, and take the blame if they weren’t. Luis’s role was to cooperate and do as ordered, keeping his head down until this storm, like so many others, had passed.
Which he would do. He didn’t believe for a second that some unknown party had broken in and killed Paco. He’d known the head of the Locos since they’d been in jail together, and figured that he’d spouted off at the wrong time to Garret – he’d always had a big mouth, and it had probably been his undoing.
A mistake to learn from, Luis reasoned; one he didn’t intend to duplicate with Cano, who made the deceased Garret seem like a huggable teddy bear.
Another howl pulled him back into the moment, and he smiled at the dog’s plaintive song, taking silent satisfaction in Cano’s discomfiture
.
Chapter 15
Two hours after leaving the root cellar, Ruby and Sierra negotiated the Black River, which was surprisingly benign in places, the water barely moving and in some cases almost dried up entirely. They took advantage of the shallow conditions to cross back and forth, reasoning that if the dogs couldn’t easily find the scent for a few hundred yards, it might take them many hours to find it again, especially as Jax and Nugget were wading in several feet of water.
The baying of the bloodhounds had receded until they could no longer hear them, and Sierra was visibly more at ease. The moon had risen into the night sky and cast a pallid luminescence across the landscape, rendering everything in shades of gray. The rushing water was nearly black beneath them, making it difficult to gauge depth. They followed the river for several miles before veering off to take a secondary dirt road that was barely negotiable after years of disuse. They zigzagged along until Ruby pointed at a stand of trees near the river and directed Jax toward the water again, her hopes of losing their pursuers now stronger than they had been earlier. On foot, it could take the trackers days to piece together their trail, buying Lucas time to make his way to them.
Once back at the river, they continued along the bank, and when it became obvious the bottom was rising toward the surface, Ruby coaxed Jax further into the wash. The mule wasn’t enthusiastic about the exercise but splashed along resignedly, ears twitching, offering an occasional snort or grunt when it misstepped. She’d slipped the monocle into one of her saddlebags now that the moon was up, conserving its precious battery as long as possible.
“How are you holding up?” Ruby whispered as Sierra urged Nugget alongside her.
“Pretty good. You?”
“I’ll be happy when I can get off Jax. Almost as happy as he’ll be. He’s not used to this much exertion. He’s had a pretty cushy life lately.” Ruby smiled at Eve, who was sitting silently, rocking with the horse’s stride, eyes drooping from fatigue. “How about you, Eve?”
“Okay,” she said in her small voice. “I don’t hear them anymore.”
The Day After Never Bundle (First 4 novels) Page 30
