“We have no choice – we need to make it work.” He looked to Ruby. “Are you clear on how to cock your rifle and eject the magazine?”
Ruby smiled. “I may be old, but I’m not an idiot.”
“You’ll want to get behind that cluster of boulders, Sierra,” Lucas said, pointing to his left. “And Ruby, you take that one. It’ll put you into perfect position. But under no circumstances shoot until I tell you to. You go off half-cocked, and we’re screwed. Keep your fingers off the trigger until you want to shoot, and don’t just fire indiscriminately. Give it a short squeeze, get used to the kick, and then empty the magazine once you can control your aim. Worst case, shoot low. The barrel will tend to rise.”
“You think you can hit them with the grenades?” Sierra asked, eyeing the bag.
“Got a good throwing arm.”
“How many men do you think there are?”
“I saw plenty, so I’m going to say twenty or so.”
Sierra nodded. “I’m a little scared.”
“That’s normal. But a word of warning – it’s all going to happen fast. So you have to stick to your plan, and don’t panic. Once the shooting starts, don’t freak out or you’ll fumble your magazines or make stupid mistakes. Try to stay calm, and understand that your ability to be methodical is your big advantage. They’re going to be caught in the open, surprised, bullets everywhere, on horseback. Use that advantage – don’t throw it away. And don’t close your eyes. That’s a rookie mistake. A lot of people close them and just shoot, hoping for the best. Force yourself to stay focused.”
She eyed him with a frown. “You sound so confident.”
“Because I’ve been through my share of this in just the last week. It gets easier every time. But I remember how I felt the first time, and it’s scary.”
“I was in the gulley, remember?”
“Then you know.” He turned to Ruby. “You going to be okay?”
“I don’t scare easy,” she said, her lips a bloodless line.
One corner of his mouth twitched, and he nodded. “No, I’ll bet you don’t.”
The sound of hooves from the north drew Lucas’s attention back to the canyon, and he raised his binoculars. “Get into position,” he said as he peered through them. “And remember – hold your fire. Put your spare magazines beside you so you’ll be able to reach them easily.”
They scrambled away and Ruby called over her shoulder, “Good luck.”
“You too.”
Lucas watched as the first riders appeared, all of them wearing plate carriers, but most with their weapons strapped on or in scabbards – a small piece of luck in a game where seconds would matter. He spotted two furry forms loping at the rear of the line, their leashes taut. Their handler was obviously tired even from a distance; his movements were slow and his stride hesitant. The party slowed as the trail became more uneven in the wash, and Lucas counted twenty-three men, a third of them covered with prison ink, identifying them as members of the Crew. Which didn’t matter – they would die just the same as their Loco brethren. As long as they stayed grouped tightly as they negotiated the canyon, they’d be sitting ducks.
Lucas held his breath as the riders entered the funnel-shaped gulch, and estimated the time it would take for them to reach the spot directly below him. Thirty seconds, no more. He lowered the binoculars, felt for the grenades in the bag and removed them, and placed them by his side, ready to be thrown.
Something spooked the lead rider, a monster of a man who sat tall in the saddle, and he slowed further, eyes scanning the canyon walls before moving to the crest. Lucas looked over to where Sierra was crouched behind the boulders, her AK at the ready, and nodded to himself. He checked Ruby and saw that she already had her rifle pointed at the riders, and he waved at her. She glanced over, and he signaled for her to back away. She did, and he winced as the wood stock of her AK scraped against the rocks.
The column kept coming, the lead man with his weapon clutched at his side, as if some sixth sense was warning him of an impending attack. Lucas waited with a grenade in hand as the group made its way along the wash until they were near his optimal range, and then called out in a stage whisper to Ruby and Sierra with another wave.
The women moved into position, and Lucas pulled the pin on the grenade and lobbed it over the edge, and then followed it with another without waiting to see the effect of the first. Ruby began firing, and Sierra’s rifle joined the older woman’s moments later, and then Lucas’s M4 chattered staccato bursts as he waited for the grenades to detonate.
Many of the women’s first rounds went wild, but at the close range they were able to adjust their aim quickly, and some of the riders fell to the ground. Lucas targeted the lead rider and stitched three rounds at his chest, praying that the plate carrier would shatter and at least one would make it through and take him out. Only one struck the man, knocking him backward from the impact, and then the first grenade exploded no more than twenty feet in front of him, which threw him off his horse. Four of the men behind him were also knocked from their saddles, guns flying from their hands as shrapnel tore through them, and then the second grenade detonated in the midst of the procession, raining havoc among the gunmen and turning man and beast into hamburger.
Lucas’s rifle barked again and again at the surviving gunmen, and within thirty seconds all but three riders and the dog handler were neutralized. Those at the back had turned and galloped for the canyon mouth, and in spite of Ruby’s best efforts, had made it beyond easy range of the Kalashnikovs, riding for their lives. A few of the downed men tried to take cover behind fallen horses, but Lucas shot them without compunction as they moved– the costlier this little adventure proved for the Crew and the cartel, the less appetite they would have for any more of the same.
Ruby’s third magazine emptied and she was slapping a fourth into place when Lucas screamed at her, “Enough!”
Ruby looked at him, eyes wild but her mouth a determined line, and stopped shooting. “What? They’re getting away!” she protested.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“But the dogs…”
Lucas set the M4 aside and raised his Remington. “Don’t sweat it.”
He sighted on the handler, who was running for all he was worth, the dogs bounding ahead of him, and squeezed the trigger. His shot caught the man in the center of the back and knocked him forward like he’d been struck by an invisible fist. Lucas ejected the round and chambered another, but his next shot missed the last of the riders, and he sat back and shook his head.
“God…” Ruby said, and then leaned to the side and vomited up fish and tea.
Lucas took deep breaths, calming himself, and then peered over the rocks again at the carnage below. Nothing moved; the wash ran red with blood, the bodies of horses and men intertwined.
“What about the dogs, Lucas?” Sierra demanded, and he rubbed a hand along his jaw before responding.
“I got the handler. They won’t be back.”
“But they know…”
“The trail will be cold by the time anyone gets it into their head to try this again. They lost most of their men. I doubt they’re going to mount another effort.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
He spit to the side. “Haven’t been yet.”
Sierra had no rejoinder and fell silent. Lucas pushed himself to his feet and gathered the remaining grenades, the Milkor, and the spare rounds, and shouldered his M4 sling before carrying his Remington to where Tango waited. Eve looked at him with trepidation, and he realized that his face must have been frozen in a frightening expression. He exhaled and tried a smile.
“Are we okay?” the little girl asked hesitantly.
“Yeah. All taken care of.”
She visibly relaxed. Sierra joined him moments later and set her rifle down to hug Eve. Ruby made it to them half a minute later. Her complexion was as gray as her hair, and a cut on her cheek streamed crimson where a rock chip from a ricochet had slice
d it open. She wiped away blood and stared at it absently, and then pressed her sleeve against the gash to blot it.
“I never want to do that again,” she said.
Lucas nodded. “There was no other way.” He considered the women and shrugged. “It’s over.”
Ruby nodded and waved away his concern, a vacant look in her eyes. “It’s…it’s horrible. How can these animals do this kind of thing every day?”
Lucas slid his Remington into its scabbard and patted Tango’s flank. “They’re not like you, Ruby.”
Nobody commented on his use of the word you rather than us.
There was no need.
Chapter 22
After circling around on foot with a pair of branches to erase any evidence of their tracks, Lucas led the way east. He seriously doubted that the cartel would be able to find anyone willing or skilled enough to employ the dogs again, but there was no harm in taking precautions. Likewise, he had little fear that the few survivors would try to give chase – like all cowards and bullies, once their superior numbers had proved useless in winning the battle, the stragglers would continue on their way back home, tail between their legs.
Even if he was wrong, he knew the area better than they, and with only three riders remaining, he wasn’t worried. The cartel gunmen would have to first find them and then work up the appetite to confront them – neither likely, given that the Locos were a city gang, unlike the Raiders, and were out of their element on the range.
He’d discarded the idea of riding down into the canyon to retrieve the dead men’s weapons, preferring to put distance between himself and the site of the battle. They’d won a hard-fought lead, and wasting it on scavenging would be stupid. The women were anxious to be rid of the area too, and he couldn’t disagree – the sight of all the dead strewn where they’d fallen was a gruesome reminder of the savagery that was now their everyday norm. He’d said a short prayer, commending their miserable souls to judgment, and they’d ridden away from the mountains.
“Where are we headed?” Ruby asked.
“There’s a decent place to camp for the night about twelve miles away,” Lucas said. “Figure four hours at this rate, maybe more, given the terrain.”
“Is it safe?”
Lucas shrugged. “Safe as anyplace, I suppose.”
“Shouldn’t we try to get further away?” Sierra asked.
“Horses have about had it. Can only push them so far, and then they’ll be of no use. They need rest.” He paused. “So do we.”
They reached the campsite in the late afternoon. It was sheltered by a high bluff and featured a creek below where they could rinse off and water the animals. There was plentiful vegetation around because of the moisture from the brook, and after Lucas removed the saddlebags from their backs, the horses, followed by Jax, picked their way to the water’s edge while Lucas set up camp, taking care to deploy his tripwires so they’d have plenty of advance warning if anyone tried to sneak up on them.
They ate much of Lucas’s remaining jerky and then settled in to sleep in the shade of a sprawling black willow tree as the sun continued its arc west. Lucas took the first watch, and they agreed that Ruby would take the second in three hours. He regarded the exhausted females with mixed feelings as they fell asleep – on the one hand, they were a responsibility he didn’t want or need; but on the other, they represented hope for the future. Eve stirred as though reading his thoughts, and he smiled at the little girl’s angelic face, haloed by her unruly dark locks, as she slumbered.
He removed the note from his pocket and studied it, but with no better results than before, the jumble of characters just as meaningless to him. That their fortunes lay in deciphering the note worried him, but he was too tired to give it more than a passing thought. More pressing was that they were out of provisions and running low on ammunition – either of which could cost them their lives. More survivors died from exposure, thirst, and starvation than at the hands of gunmen, and Lucas was acutely aware that those naturally occurring hazards were as deadly as anything man-made. Infection was the other fatal risk, he reminded himself, and he checked his arm wound, which thankfully seemed to be healing with no complications.
Time passed slowly, and he was relieved that a constant scanning of the horizon detected no dust. Their gambit had worked, and they were clear of their pursuers – although he understood it was a temporary reprieve. It was just a matter of time until another expedition was mounted, but by then they’d be long gone.
The question was to where.
For now, mundane realities like food were the most pressing, and he’d have to deal with those before thinking bigger – tomorrow, come morning, once they were all rested. For now, he needed to turn off his brain and get some rest as soon as his shift was over.
When the three hours was up, he shook Ruby awake. She sat up with a yawn and looked at Eve and Sierra.
“That was way too short,” she grumbled, and Lucas nodded.
“I agree. But it is what it is.” He hesitated. “You think we can depend on Sierra to keep watch when you’re done?”
Ruby frowned. “She was guarding us when the gypsies grabbed us. Not saying it was her fault, but they were right on top of us before she sounded the alarm.”
“You think she nodded off?”
“I don’t want to say yes, but the truth is I don’t know.”
“Then I don’t want to chance it.”
“We can split duty with her, if you’re worried. That way we’ll both get at least some rest.”
Lucas nodded and fished in his pocket for the note. He handed it to her with a grimace. “That’s the encoded message. See if you can make anything out of it. I can’t. I’ve tried, but it’s all Greek to me.”
Ruby squinted at it in the waning light. “Nothing jumps out at first blush. But I’ve got nothing better to do while on watch, so let me see if I can spot any patterns. It can’t be that complicated if the guy with Sierra referred to it and was able to decode it in his head.”
“That’s what I figured.”
Lucas unfurled his bedroll and lay down with his M4. “Wake me if you see anything. Even if you just think someone might be out there. I’d rather have a false alarm than be surprised.”
“I will.”
Lucas unstrapped his watch and gave it to her. “Wake Sierra in three hours. You take the first half of her watch with her, and I’ll take the second.”
“It’s going to be a long night like that.”
“That’s life.”
Lucas had barely shut his eyes when he was awakened by Sierra’s voice. She and Ruby were talking in the dark, and he pushed himself to a sitting position.
“Oh. Sorry, Lucas. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Sierra said.
“You need to keep your voice down,” he warned.
“I was,” she insisted.
Lucas looked at Ruby, who was clutching the note in her left hand and the AK in her right. “Any luck?”
“I tried the likeliest combinations, but nothing.” Her jaw clenched. “It’s so frustrating. I mean, I could write a program to try thousands of different possibilities if I had a computer. Trying to do this manually could take forever.”
With a sweep of his hand, he gestured to the surrounding area dimly lit by the vaporous glow of the moon from behind high clouds. “Don’t see any Apples around here, Ruby. Try your best, but don’t make yourself crazy with it.”
“Good advice. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when I’m tired. I got some sleep this morning, so I’m more rested than you.”
“Not as young, either,” Lucas said.
“Don’t remind me.” She smiled. “But we fossils require less sleep. About the only plus to it I can see. And don’t worry. We’ll keep quiet.”
Lucas glanced at Eve beside him and nodded before lying back down. “Wake me when you’re ready.”
Ruby set the AK down and sighed. “Will do.”
He drifted off to the sound of Ruby and Sier
ra discussing the note in hushed whispers, frustration evident in their subdued tones. The sound faded as he lost consciousness, and his final thought was that they would need a miracle to make sense out of the gibberish he’d gone to such lengths to obtain.
Chapter 23
Sweat coursed down Luis’s face in spite of the cooling breeze from the west as the sun sank behind the mountains, his eyes on the crest above the canyon from which the shooting had erupted. He crept toward the scene of the massacre with cautious steps, leading his horse on foot. His two surviving men followed close behind, weapons at the ready, although they were all sure that the ambushers had long since absconded. They’d waited until dusk, unable to help any wounded in the barren wash, and were returning to load up on the force’s weapons and ammunition – better to have those stores of wealth than to leave them for someone else, Luis had reasoned.
They’d managed to recover two of the downed men’s horses that had bolted during the attack, and the last gunman had secured their reins to his saddle horn and was walking them along with his own. The rout over the last week had been devastating for their numbers – in just a matter of days, the cartel had gone from two hundred strong to no more than thirty-something – so every bit of gear would be precious in attracting new recruits.
Luis was stunned at how rapidly everything had fallen apart. He’d gone from the new leader of a still reasonable force to the head of a handful of survivors, which made the cartel’s hold over Pecos tentative at best, and with it, their power base.
Luis sighed. There was no more cartel – the Locos existed only in their minds. Cano had made that clear enough. Now that their numbers were negligible, they would be absorbed into the Crew without discussion – leaving Luis to explain to his men why they had gone from rulers of the town to subordinates to anyone with Crew ink on their face. He didn’t expect it to go down well with his men, but since the alternative was execution, they’d get used to it, he was sure.
Vultures flapped from the corpses when Luis and his men entered the gap, and orbited overhead as Luis moved to the first body, his nose wrinkling as he neared. The carrion birds had wasted no time, and much of the man’s face was gone. Luis reached down and scooped up his AK and slid it into his saddlebag before looking over his shoulder. “Get the magazines and pistols,” he instructed, and his men scrambled to obey his order. “It’ll be dark soon, and I want to be out of here by the time the sun sets.”
The Day After Never Bundle (First 4 novels) Page 34
