The Day After Never Bundle (First 4 novels)

by Russell Blake

  Cano finished his task and returned to the horses. His instinct was to push them until they dropped, but attempting to cross the desert without the animals to carry them would be a death sentence, so he had to temper his impatience so as not to drive them into the ground.

  “Party time’s over. Mount up,” he called, listening for any signs of objection or complaint. There were none, which gladdened him. Like all leaders who ruled by force, his senses were tuned to detect even a hint of rebellion and quash it instantly. He’d learned that early in life, running his drug gang on the streets of Houston, and later, in prison. Watching Magnus had reinforced the importance of meeting any challenge with immediate, overwhelming force.

  But there was none today. The men were happy for the opportunity to earn a small fortune.

  “Quincy, you take point. See if you can spot anything,” Cano barked, once they were all in the saddle. The big man spurred his horse forward and made for the road, where heat shimmered off the gray pavement in serpentine waves. The odds of finding anything on the endless stretch of gravel shoulder was less than zero, but Cano’s order was one that must be obeyed.

  Chapter 13

  Lucas was roused from a surface sleep by the sound of Ruby’s voice from outside his tent. He cracked one eye open and reached for the entry flap zipper. The lack of light shining through the fabric told him it was still night. He opened the flap and looked out at her.

  “What is it?”

  “Colt doesn’t look good.”

  He checked the time. It would be dawn in twenty minutes. He forced himself awake, pulled on his boots, and exited the tent, hat in hand. Ruby led him to where Colt was sitting, teeth chattering.

  “How you doing, partner?” Lucas asked.

  “Been better.”

  Ruby felt Colt’s forehead and looked at Lucas in alarm. “He’s burning up.”

  “When did you last drink some water?” Lucas asked.

  “Been a while.”

  Lucas glanced at the guard, who was watching him without interest, and moved to his saddlebags for a canteen. He held it out, a modest but vital offering, and then waited as Colt drained the container.

  Lucas took it from him. “Soon as the sun’s up, we’ll get a peek at the bite and see if anything’s changed.”

  “Feels pretty swollen,” Colt said.

  Ruby ran a hand lightly over the pressure bandage. “That’s to be expected.”

  “Is he going to be able to ride?” Lucas asked.

  “Hell yes, I will,” Colt snapped. “No way you’re leaving me out here.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant. I was thinking we might have to rig something…”

  “Get me into the saddle, and I’ll do the rest. It’ll take my mind off dying.”

  “If that was going to happen, it would have by now,” Lucas countered.

  The camp roused to life as the sun rose. When Sierra and Lucas removed the dressing, the news wasn’t good. The area around the bite was purple and red, with bluish discoloration following Colt’s veins. The leader of the Apaches walked over and glanced at the wound.

  “You’re lucky it wasn’t a diamondback. You might make it.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t?” Lucas asked.

  “I’ve seen their bite. That looks like you didn’t get a whole lot of venom, so you’re lucky. Believe me, it can be a whole lot worse. I’ve seen skin split from the knee to the ankle and the flesh looking like someone poured acid on it. Required amputation.”

  “Not feeling particularly lucky,” Colt said.

  “You’ll live,” the leader said, and turned to Lucas. “Break down the tents and pack them. We mount up in ten minutes.”

  Once they were on the trail, Colt seemed to do better, and the time passed uneventfully as their surroundings became an inferno. Seven hours after they’d mounted up, a string of low buildings came into view, and the leader twisted toward them.

  “Won’t be long now.”

  He’d radioed ahead earlier, and a welcoming committee of several dozen armed men was waiting for their arrival. They dismounted, and three of the younger braves led the horses to a water trough in the shade of an overhang.

  An older man pushed through the throng and looked down at Colt. “You the one that got bit?”

  “That’s right,” Colt managed.

  “Let’s have a look at it, then.”

  Sierra removed the dressing, and the man knelt beside Colt and inspected the wound. He took Colt’s pulse, felt his head, and then pulled a stethoscope from his satchel and listened to his heart.

  Finished, he stood. “Going to need antibiotics, or you could lose the leg.”

  “Do you have any?” Ruby asked.

  “None we can spare. But they should have some in Albuquerque.”

  “That’s, what, a couple days’ ride?” Lucas asked.

  “About that.”

  “Will that be soon enough?”

  The man looked at Colt and then at Lucas. “Sixty-forty his favor.” He draped the stethoscope over his shoulder. “I’m Ben. I run this place. What happened to Frank?”

  Lucas repeated Colt’s story about the shooting.

  Ben grunted when he was through. “Can’t see someone getting the jump on Frank.”

  “Apparently he met his match.”

  “Too bad. He was one of the good ones.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Ruby said.

  Ben nodded. “Now I have to figure out what to do with you.”

  “What do you mean? We’re paid up,” Colt said.

  “True. But you need a guide to get the rest of the way. So you’re going to have to pay for another one. Your passage is covered, not a new guide. Sorry.”

  “How much?”

  “Thirty ounces of gold.”

  “What! That’s outrageous!” Colt snapped.

  “Frank had a wife and family. Much of that will go to support them. That’s the price.”

  “We don’t have that kind of weight on us.”

  “What about your boss?”

  Colt blinked several times. “They’ll pay. They’re good for it.”

  “If so, we have a deal. You authorized to speak for them?”

  “I am.”

  “Then we’ll get you outfitted, give you back your weapons, and you can be on your way. Sooner the better, by the looks of that leg.” Ben looked around until his eyes settled on a short, swarthy man with long hair. “Tarak, come here.”

  Tarak approached, and Ben had a hurried discussion with him. Tarak nodded several times during the exchange and then made for the barn to get his horse and gear.

  “He’ll be ready to ride within the hour. He’s one of our best. He’ll accompany you and bring the gold back to us.”

  Colt shook his head. “No. They’ll never stand for it. He can wait for us in Albuquerque. I’ll return with the payment. Just as someone met you here to pay.”

  “The condition’s not negotiable. One of my men died – and he was a close friend. If you don’t want to accept our terms, you’re free to try your luck on your own. I won’t stop you. But I’ll also warn you that there are traps along the way. Tarak knows their locations. Without him, you might not make it, so think hard about your refusal. I bear you no ill will and would like to see you live, but I won’t risk Frank’s family going without because your people decided the price was too rich, after the fact.”

  “It’s against the rules. They won’t agree.”

  “Can you radio them? We have a shortwave set here.”

  Colt sighed. “Where?”

  Twenty minutes later, after a coded discussion across five different channels, Colt got reluctant approval. Ben nodded and disappeared for a few minutes, and returned with another pressure bandage and some salve.

  “This should reduce the pain some, but like I said, you’re going to need antibiotics. Venom won’t kill you, but the infection will. That should be your main concern in Albuquerque,” he said.

  “You
sure you don’t have any you can give him?” Lucas asked.

  “We have far too little to dispense it to others. But you can take some salve. It’s the best I can do.”

  Lucas frowned, but he understood. He couldn’t blame Ben – the doses Colt might have gotten would be ones the Apaches then wouldn’t have when a child sustained an ugly wound. Life in the new reality of post-collapse was one where charity could cost loved ones their lives.

  “You can always buy more,” Lucas tried.

  “I can’t take that risk,” Ben said in a tone that ended further discussion.

  Tarak reappeared a few minutes later with his horse, saddlebags bulging with supplies, and an AR-15 strapped to his back. Ben’s men returned the guns to Lucas and his group, and then they were ready to ride, the horses fed and watered, Colt’s pain somewhat eased by the goop and the bandage.

  “Thanks for everything,” Lucas said as they mounted up.

  Ben nodded. “See to it that Tarak makes it back in one piece.”

  “He’ll be paid, and then he’s on his own. Nobody’s going to babysit your man any more than you’ll part with drugs for ours.” Lucas took the guide’s measure. “He looks like he can handle himself.”

  “That he can. Tarak, radio me when you have the gold.”

  “Will do,” Tarak said, and urged his horse forward, the women trailing him and Lucas and Colt bringing up the rear.

  As the reservation faded into the distance behind them, Colt spurred his horse till he was beside Lucas and muttered under his breath, “Thanks for going to bat for me.”

  “No problem. Sorry I couldn’t convince him.”

  Colt shrugged. “It’s in God’s hands now. I’ll make it.”

  Lucas nodded. “You better. We’re screwed if you don’t.”

  Colt grimaced and saved his energy, his message conveyed, and they continued in silence, the only sound the clip-clop of hooves and the occasional moan of the wind out of the east.

  Chapter 14

  Artesia’s perimeter wall swam into view as Duke and Aaron pushed their horses hard, anxious to make it to the town’s protection before sundown. They’d made decent time, and Duke was hoping that Lucas was still there so he could discuss setting up another trading post, perhaps with him as a partner. After all, the former lawman was honest, knew weapons, and Duke could trust him in a pinch –the most important quality in a business associate. Duke could manage the actual trading, and Lucas the logistics of operating the site. At least, that was going to be his pitch.

  They slowed as they neared the guard post, which was manned by two riflemen who didn’t look welcoming. They eyed Duke like he’d stolen their horses, and the larger one called out, “Town’s closed down. Move on.”

  “I’m here to see Bruce.”

  “He ain’t here.”

  “Where’d he go?”

  “Beats me.”

  “When’s he going to come back?”

  “Same answer. I don’t keep his schedule.”

  Duke’s shoulders sagged, but he had a lie ready. “Bastard owes me money. I’m here to collect.”

  “Can’t let you in.”

  “He’s got some of my gear. I’m going to get it one way or another.”

  The guard exchanged a glance with the other, clearly not expecting a confrontation with Bruce’s debtors. Duke sensed an opening and pressed the point.

  “Look,” he said. “I got no truck with you. But he has my stuff. I’m not going to just shrug and go home. I came here for my gear, and I’m going to get it. You got no right to protect the little weasel – my family’s life depends on it. You try to block me, you’re endangering them. I won’t take kindly to that. Neither would you in my shoes.”

  The man looked Duke over, assessing his weathered face, and shifted to Aaron. He had a hurried discussion with his partner and then straightened as he addressed Duke.

  “Don’t much like being threatened.”

  “Didn’t mean it that way. I don’t want trouble, but I’m also not going away empty-handed. Rode way too long for that, and fair’s fair.”

  “How long you reckon it’ll take?”

  “Not long. Although I hate to have to spend the night outside the wall if I can find an area to bunk for the night.”

  The man pushed the gate aside. “Bruce has a fair parcel of land. Nobody’s on it. If you was to camp there, I doubt anyone would care. Long as it’s only for the night.”

  Duke tilted his head at the guard. “Appreciate it. Where’s his place at? First time I’ve been here.”

  The man stopped opening the gate. “Thought you said he had your gear.”

  “That’s right. He came and got it. Probably because he planned to screw me out of it.”

  The guard considered Duke’s words and then resumed sliding the gate open. “None of my business. Just don’t get into any trouble, or it’s my ass for letting you in.”

  “Don’t worry. Just want what’s mine.”

  They rode through the gap, leading their spare horses, and stopped by the guard post. The men gave them directions to Bruce’s trailer, and they made their way along the perimeter road until they arrived at a broken-down single-wide mobile home sorely in need of repair. The gate to the grounds was open, and as they entered, a man watched from across the street, shotgun in hand. When they dismounted, he ambled over and nodded a greeting.

  “He ain’t here,” the watcher said.

  “Any idea where he went?”

  “Scuttlebutt’s that he cut out and headed north.”

  “To Roswell?”

  “I figure.” The man shifted from foot to foot and glanced at the trailer. “Ain’t nuthin’ worth spit in there. Been cleaned out.”

  “Little prick had a bunch of my gear,” Duke growled. “Figures he took off without fixing it.”

  “Did the same to me.”

  “Was he alone when he left?”

  “Nah. Had a couple of women with him. And some dude. Thought he was a badass. Mean-looking cuss.”

  “How long ago they leave?”

  The man studied his boots, his face screwed tight in concentration, as though Duke had asked him to explain general relativity. Eventually he looked up at Duke with a gap-toothed grin. “Four, five days ago.”

  “So they’re long gone.”

  “’Fraid so.”

  “Well, hell.” Duke spit for emphasis. “Guess we’ll spend the night and then go after him. He’s not going to get away with this.” Duke paused. “Anyone else been asking about him?”

  “Nope. He had everyone conned.”

  “I’ll say. And there’s nothing left?”

  “No. He took it all. But the well still works. You can water your horses, at least.”

  “That’s good to know. Solves one problem.”

  “Name’s Tom. You need anything, we got eggs and some power. We can trade. Plenty to go around.”

  “That’s mighty neighborly, Tom. I’m Duke. This is Aaron. Might take you up on the power and eggs. Got some batteries need charging, and we haven’t had a decent meal in forever.”

  “Long as you got some ammo, we can dicker.”

  “Where’s your place?”

  “Down this street, left-hand side, ’bout a quarter mile away. Painted blue, next to a bombed-out gas station. Can’t miss it. Got lights and everything.”

  “We’ll be along shortly. Thanks for the offer.”

  Tom shuffled off, leaving Duke and Aaron to their chores. They watered the horses and let them graze. Aaron swatted mosquitoes away as twilight approached and eyed Duke.

  “You think he ripped the place off?”

  Duke laughed. “Of course. But Bruce probably had it coming. What does that tell you?”

  “He isn’t going to be back.”

  “Right. Which means Lucas either scared the crap out of him or made him a better offer. Maybe a little of both.” Duke studied the trailer. “Lucas had something up his sleeve with that woman. Bruce must have been part of th
e puzzle. Only thing that makes sense.”

  “We going to get some eggs?”

  “Absolutely. Probably Bruce’s chickens, too. I’d say old Tom made out like a bandit.”

  “I could eat.”

  “Let’s let the horses feed and then we’ll hoof it over. No point in starving to death. Tomorrow we’ll ride north and see what we find.”

  “Four or five days is a lot of lead time.”

  “Yeah, but we’re not looking to catch up with them on the road. Wherever they settle’s fine by me.”

  “You haven’t said why you want to find them.”

  “Business, of course.”

  Aaron raised an eyebrow, but Duke didn’t elaborate. He was in charge, and Aaron had nothing better to do, anyway. Duke had treated him well at the trading post, and he had no doubt the trader would do the same wherever he wound up.

  “Roswell, huh?” Aaron said. “What have you heard about it?”

  “Not much. But it’s a decent size, and that means opportunity. Let’s check it out. Can’t hurt.”

  Aaron nodded. “You’re the boss.”

  “Yup. And right now, I’m thinking about eight eggs scrambled sounds about right.”

  Chapter 15

  Cano’s men drifted along the highway in a semi-stupor as the day wore on, the swelter intolerable. While the landscape south had been brutal at times, there was little to prepare them for the inhospitable terrain as they pushed north. Quincy had found what he’d thought might be faint tracks along one of the side trails that paralleled the highway, and their party fanned out along that strip of barren trail, plodding along with the tenacity of a chain gang.

  Quincy was in the lead, with Carlton a few yards from his side, their heads hanging and chins nearly to their chests, hats pulled low against the blazing sun. The horses were doing all the work, but none were moving fast, leaving their riders to doze in the worst of the heat.

  Cano had insisted that they keep their breaks to only a few minutes each hour, and the animals were beginning to show the effects of fatigue. Nobody had dared counter Cano’s insistence on pressing forward, and the mood among the men was glum as horse and rider alike reached the limits of their endurance.