“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.”
“So you say. All I know is I hear promises, but no delivery.” Snake caught the warning glance from the Illuminati functionary and hurried to backpedal. “What I meant is that it’s hard to perform wi
th one hand tied behind my back. And relying on horses to move men around isn’t doing either of us any favors.”
Lassiter’s eyes narrowed. “I know what you meant.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you or your group. I’m just frustrated. We all are.”
“Noted. But that’s not getting us anywhere.”
“We’re doing everything we can think of. If you have any suggestions, I’m all ears,” Snake grumbled.
Lassiter rose and stood with his hands on his hips, facing Snake, who shrank a little in his chair at the man’s quiet presence. Lassiter took a step toward him and spoke softly. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to assign a new advisor to you. He’ll be here before the week is out. He’s a more senior man than Zach. Perhaps we overestimated Zach’s abilities – I’m willing to concede that much. You are to treat him as if it were me advising you, and I’d strongly suggest you do whatever he says. There’s a limit to how long we’ll tolerate failure, and I can share with you that we’re near that limit. If you can’t execute, we’ll have to find someone who can.”
“If you’re so powerful and smart, why do you need me?” Snake blurted, and instantly regretted it.
“That’s a good question. For your sake, you better hope the answer isn’t that we don’t.”
“I don’t like being threatened,” Snake warned.
“I don’t threaten. I offer counsel. And here’s my counsel to you: if I want, I can flatten Houston with my big guns in under an hour and wipe you from the earth like a bunch of tattooed cockroaches. We’ve allowed you to operate your territory as you like, but you’re either an asset or a liability – and right now you’re tilting to the liability side of the equation.” Lassiter let that sink in. “And Snake, trust me: you don’t want to be a liability.”
Snake watched as Lassiter stalked to the door and opened it, the guards outside withdrawing deferentially as he brushed past them. Snake’s head throbbed and his stomach twisted in fury at being addressed like a servant. He was the head of the Southwest’s most powerful cartel. He had the power of life and death over thousands and more territory than anyone else in the land. That this effete pencil pusher in a suit dared to read him the riot act was unthinkable.
Snake imagined Lassiter spread-eagled at tonight’s executions, being dismembered slowly by starving rats for the amusement of the crowd, and smiled at the mental picture. Of course, he couldn’t do it, but the image calmed him as his mind savored the Illuminati man’s agonized screams.
Snake got to his feet and gulped two pills, washing them down with the last of the home-brewed ale from lunch. He needed to calm down and think clearly, not entertain impossibilities, and he couldn’t do that if his nerves were too close to the surface.
The truth was he didn’t much care if they ever found the woman or Shangri-La’s new location or any of the rest of it. That was Lassiter’s fixation, not his. But Snake would play along for now, until the refinery was operational, and put in a best effort while appearing to hang on the new advisor’s every word.
And then when he’d gotten what he needed from them, the advisor would disappear or suffer a horrendous accident or choke on a chicken bone – it didn’t much matter.
But now wasn’t the time to challenge his sponsor.
That would come later.
Chapter 49
John called out to Duke from his position at the gate of the new trading post located on a secondary highway near an intersection of the interstate that stretched from east to west, a bit more than two days’ ride east of Pagosa Springs. “Rider. About a hundred yards out.”
Duke was sitting by the entrance of the office he’d set up as his showroom. “Only one?”
“Yup.”
They’d been in business for a week and had been surprised by the number of migrants on the road. They’d found an ideal location and taken it over: a motel with a perimeter wall. The main structure was two stories tall and had been built from cinderblock and rebar sometime in the forties, before the construction technique had changed to sheetrock and studs. Duke had always favored more durable structures because of their ability to withstand Mother Nature’s destructive moods, as well as stop bullets when things got nasty. But what had decided it for him was a steel windmill that provided juice for the well pump and, with some modification, sufficient power to operate the radio.
“See what he wants.”
The rider neared, and John eyed his tattooed face with a somber stare. “Looks like Crew, Duke,” he warned.
Duke rose, AR-15 gripped by his side, and moved to the sandbagged guard post at the side of the gate. “Good thing Luis isn’t here. Might get a little difficult if they saw each other,” Duke murmured.
Luis had ridden into the hills several hours earlier to try his luck fishing for brook trout, and they didn’t expect him back until dusk. The ex-Loco boss’s ink might have raised uncomfortable questions in a member of the Crew, if that was, in fact, what the rider was.
Any doubts Duke had about the new arrival’s affiliation evaporated when he spied the eye of Providence on the man’s forehead as he slowed to a stop at the gate. Duke looked the rider over, noting the powerful arms connected to a torso that resembled a fireplug, and nodded a greeting.
“Howdy. What can we do you for?” Duke asked.
“Looking to trade for some supplies.”
“What do you need?”
“Provisions.”
“What do you have to barter?”
“Ammo.”
Duke and John exchanged a glance. That was their business, so they couldn’t refuse to let him in. Duke nodded again, and John shouldered his rifle strap and sauntered to the steel barrier to slide it open. The rider guided his horse through and directed the stallion to a hitching post Duke had rigged near a fifty-gallon barrel they’d cut in half and filled with water each day.
“Mind if I water my horse?” the rider asked.
“That’s what it’s there for. Cost you a round.”
“That’s fair. Don’t suppose you have any feed, do you?”
Duke grunted. “Sure. Cost you two more.”
“A bargain.”
“Given the location, a steal.”
The rider swung from the saddle and dropped to the ground. John approached after closing the gate, his gun in hand. “Rule is no weapons inside the wall,” he said.
The rider nodded and shrugged off the strap of his AK, held it out to John, barrel down, and then did the same with his pistol. When the man was unarmed, Duke motioned to the office. “Come on in and take a gander. We’re a little thin on some things, but got plenty of cured meat and some dried provisions that might get the job done.”
“Don’t suppose you have any citrus or vitamins, do you?”
“Got some expired vitamin C. Should still be good. Only two years past the date.”
“That’ll work.”
Duke mounted the steps, followed by the rider. Inside, they got down to business, and Duke negotiated a more than fair exchange for what the newcomer wanted. When they were done, the rider leaned against the reception counter and rubbed his stubbly chin with a dirty hand.
“You just open up?” he asked.
“Yeah, maybe a week or two ago. Figured we’d try our luck at it.”
“How’s business?”
“Can’t complain, although it could always be better.”
“See a lot of travelers?”
Duke nodded. “Enough to keep me in sin.” He hesitated. “Where you headed?”
“Just riding. You know how that is. No particular destination – they’re all the same these days.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“You seen any big parties?”
“Nope. Onesies and twosies, mostly.”
“Huh. Any communities around here to trade with?”
Duke’s tone remained flat, his face a mask. “I wish. Make my life a lot easier if there was. More traffic.”
“I hea
rd there might be one around here. Maybe new, too.”
“If you find one, stop back in and tell me where it is. Because nobody who’s come by to trade has seen anything but scrub and rock for hundreds of miles in all directions.”
The man nodded agreeably. “You hear anything about the big fight south of here?”
Duke nodded. “Heard from a family headed north there are a bunch of abandoned trucks and the like. Long ways south, though, isn’t it? New Mexico or Texas?”
The man’s placid expression didn’t change. “Down by Los Alamos is what I heard.”
“Don’t that beat all.”
The rider collected his purchases and moved to the door. At the threshold, he looked back at the hand-lettered sign over the reception desk. “Duke’s Trading, huh? Like John Wayne?”
“My daddy didn’t have a big imagination.”
“Nice to meet you. Name’s Dale. Might see you again if I swing back this way.”
“Open sunup to sundown.”
“Good to know. Didn’t think there was anything out here.”
“Casino and dancing girls go in next week.”
Duke and John watched Dale ride slowly away, and Duke narrowly resisted the urge to put a bullet in the back of his head. John scratched his head. “He’s looking for them, isn’t he?”
“Damn right he is.”
“Better get on the radio and warn them.”
“Tonight. But if he’s out here, he has no idea where they are.”
“Think he’ll give up eventually?”
“If he does, another will take his place. That’s just the way it works.”
“You could have sent him east. Told him fifty riders came by when you were opening up the place.”
“He’d have been back when he figured out I’m the only one who ever saw ’em, and we’d have tipped our hand.”
“You think he suspects anything?”
Duke watched the Crew scout disappear down the road and spit in the dirt by his boot. “Hope not.”
Chapter 50
Ground fog hung over the town and its bare trees, the morning a cold one. A few of the residents were pushing carts along the main street, their faces wrapped against the frigid breeze, their progress slowed by the slush on the pavement from melting snow.
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