His mouth seemed to twitch, but when he turned slightly to look at me, his expression was grim enough. “Is that what you think this is? The apocalypse?”
“Well, close enough as makes no difference.” We’d slowed to maybe twenty miles an hour at the most, partly because Jace was weaving in and out of the abandoned cars on the streets, but also because I had a feeling he didn’t have any idea where he was supposed to go. “I mean, most of the world is dead, and the life we had back then is gone. No, I suppose there weren’t any four horsemen and blood-red moons and flaming swords and all that, but….”
He didn’t reply, but I could almost feel him turning over the idea in his head. My knowledge of Native American mythology was scanty at best, and so I didn’t know if his people had their own vision of the end of the world. The terminology I’d used was purely Revelations sort of stuff, but that was my only frame of reference. At least, those were the kinds of things you’d always hear quoted in movies dealing with the end times.
“I have an idea,” he said, in a very different tone. “Let’s stop and go into that hotel. They had to have phone books and local directories at the concierge desk, right?”
He had a point. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d used a phone book, since I either used Yelp or Google Maps to find things with my cell phone, but maybe not everyone was as firmly rooted in the digital age as I had been before the world collapsed. Checking at the hotel sounded like a good idea.
So he pulled up onto the sidewalk in front of the La Fonda Hotel, in a spot where once bellhops had probably assisted people with their luggage but was now free of cars. And actually, as I got out of the Jeep and looked around quickly, it somehow seemed as if the street wasn’t quite as choked with vehicles as I remembered it.
“What’s the matter?” Jace asked, seeming to notice the way I was scanning the street. “Do you see something?” His hand went to his belt, and for the first time I realized he was wearing his long knife in its sheath. I hadn’t even thought to bring one of the guns with me. Maybe Jace made me feel a little too safe. I was getting sloppy.
“No,” I replied, quickly so he wouldn’t get too nervous. “That is…I could have sworn there were more cars here the last time I drove through. It’s as if some of them are just…gone.”
His eyebrows went up, and I could see him look past me to the street the hotel faced. What good that would do, I wasn’t sure, because I didn’t think he’d even come this way when he passed through town. There were obvious gaps in the lines of cars parked at the sidewalk, but that didn’t have to mean anything, except that no one had been parked there in the first place.
“You’re sure?” he asked, and now I thought I detected a note of patience in his voice, as if he was trying to humor me.
“No, I’m not sure, because I wasn’t memorizing everything I saw when I drove through here. It just feels…off.”
“Well, all the more reason for us to see if we can find a phone book and a map, and then get out of here.”
I decided I couldn’t argue with that logic, and followed him into the lobby of the hotel.
Luckily for us, the concierge’s desk did have an area phone book, as well as a detailed map of downtown and a larger one for the greater Santa Fe area. I took a quick glance around, remembering how Tori and Elena and I had gone up to the rooftop bar for drinks. Back then the place had been packed. Now the tiled floors echoed under our footsteps, and I had to work hard not to look at the flurries of gray ash that stray drafts must have blown against the floorboards and into the corners.
It felt good to be out in the sun again, despite the brisk wind, although we got into the Jeep quickly enough. I paged through the phone book and discovered that there was an REI probably less than five minutes from our current location. Jace seemed cheered by that, and we headed there in silence, although I kept looking at the streets as they passed by, trying to determine if they felt less impacted by abandoned vehicles than I’d previously thought. It was hard to say for sure, as I’d never gone down this particular road. It did seem less crowded than it should be, although I was basing that observation on pure gut feeling and not much more.
The store was located almost on the railroad tracks, just off Market Street. While there were a few vehicles parked nearby, the place still felt far more deserted than some of the other shops I’d visited. Again, people probably weren’t thinking of outdoor supplies as they were succumbing one by one to the Heat.
Jace and I got out of the Jeep and headed to the store entrance. The glass wasn’t smashed, but the doors seemed to have gotten stuck halfway open. Convenient, since we wouldn’t have to worry about breaking in.
When we entered the store, though, I still got the feeling that it had been carefully ransacked, although it wasn’t a mess. No, it was more that the stock seemed far leaner than it should have been. The glass case with the GPS devices had been emptied of its contents, and it looked as if a bunch of the mountain bikes were gone, too.
But at least the low-dollar stuff like the thermal underwear and the gloves hadn’t been totally depleted. I got a shopping cart and started adding anything in my size, while Jace went to the men’s section and basically did the same thing. He dumped in all his items, then went back for a thigh-length down-filled jacket. Before he put it in the cart, he looked at the price tag and shook his head.
“What?” I asked.
“That coat cost more than I paid for my motorcycle.”
Ouch. Well, retail prices were definitely a thing of the past, so it wasn’t as if we had to worry about whether we could afford any of this stuff. “Yes,” I said, “but a motorcycle won’t keep you warm at night.”
A corner of his mouth quirked, even as a warm gleam came and went in his eyes. “Oh, I’ve got something way better than a jacket for keeping me warm at night.”
I could feel heat as well, running through my core, but I knew we needed to stay focused on the task at hand. “Anything else?”
“That about does it for me. I like my boots, so I’m not going to bother replacing them. You?”
“Same.” Maybe there were some fancy outdoor shoes that would have suited me better, but my hiking boots were sturdy and comfortable. They’d cost me a good chunk back in the day as well, come to think of it. Money well spent, as far as I was concerned, considering everything they’d gotten me through during the past few weeks.
So we pushed our haul out to the Cherokee and stowed everything in the back. “Who do you think took that other stuff?” I asked Jace, just as he was closing the hatch to the cargo area.
He shrugged. “Other survivors, I suppose.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird that we still haven’t seen anyone?” Something felt strange. I couldn’t put my finger on it, since I really didn’t have any frame of reference for what things were supposed to feel like after the apocalypse. Still, you’d think that any survivors in Santa Fe would have seen Jace and me coming and going, would have realized we didn’t pose any kind of threat. At least, I didn’t think we looked terribly intimidating.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” He turned the key over in his hand, fiddling with it. “I’ll bet if you crunched the numbers, you’d realize the odds of us running across any of the few hundred survivors in the area on any given day really aren’t that great. We’d have to keep coming down here day after day, looking for them. Are you ready to do that?”
Part of me was. Oh, I didn’t really need anyone other than Jace, and we’d done just fine — more than fine — on our own, but still….
I wanted to know.
However, I could tell from the expression Jace currently wore that he didn’t share this particular thirst for knowledge, and I decided I’d better not push it. After all, before I’d met him, my run-ins with survivors of the Dying hadn’t exactly been all that pleasant.
“No,” I said, and gave him what I hoped was a convincing smile. “I’ve got better things to do with my time.”
Chapter Fifteen<
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Strangely, although at first glance the Home Depot looked exactly the same as the last time we’d left it after we’d gotten the supplies for the chicken coop, when we went to fetch a trailer to haul the lumber home, only one was still sitting there. The other three were gone.
That did take Jace aback; he stood there for a moment, hand on his chin, staring at the spaces where the trailers had been parked. Finally he said, “What the hell?”
“So you’ll admit they’re gone.”
“Of course they’re gone. It’s kind of obvious, don’t you think?” Then he shook his head. “Sorry, Jess. Didn’t mean to snap at you. But this is just weird.”
That was a good word for it. I could see survivors making off with GPS devices and hiking boots and multi-packs of toilet paper. But equipment trailers?
“Well, at least they left us one,” I offered.
That didn’t seem to mollify him much. He stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, clearly discomfited by this evidence that there were survivors, and that they seemed to be organized enough to make off with most of the store’s trailers. I saw the troubled glance he sent toward the entrance at the lumberyard end of the building, and guessed he was worried that the stock inside would be similarly picked over.
We were here now, though, so we might as well go in and see what we could find, once we had the trailer hooked up to the Cherokee. That didn’t take long, though, and afterward we headed toward the building, both of us grimly silent.
Several big orange flatbed carts sat near the entrance, so Jace took one and wheeled it in, glass crunching underfoot as he did so. It seemed clear enough, even from a quick glance around, that someone had been in here since our last visit. The battery displays were almost all emptied out, and a lot of tools seemed to be missing, too. But at least the lumberyard didn’t look as if it had been raided, so Jace was able to get the supplies he needed. Tools we already had back at the compound, up to and including a belt sander and a jigsaw, so the looters were welcome to take anything that still remained here.
“I wonder what they’re doing with all of it,” I ventured as he began shifting the lumber from the cart and into the trailer.
“Who knows?” he replied. “They’re probably people like us — you know, with a place where they’re holed up and safe but still need assorted odds and ends. Actually, I have a feeling they would need more, since our compound was so well stocked when you found it. And you’re probably used to seeing stores getting restocked on a regular basis. Things can start to look pretty picked over when no one’s coming in with new products all the time.”
Well, that made sense. It was true that I didn’t have much experience yet of a world where stores weren’t magically restocked when supplies ran low. Even so, something didn’t feel right to me. Batteries and hammers I could understand. But the trailers? I supposed if they had enough stuff to haul away, it made some sense. But that would have to be a lot of stuff.
Jace finished tying down the lumber, then threw the nails and fasteners and other small items he’d collected into the cargo area of the Jeep. From the way the corners of his mouth were turned down, I could tell he wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of having to compete with other survivors for supplies we might need to get through the winter.
But no, that wouldn’t happen. We were stocked on food, and now we had milk and eggs and cheese and butter, so really, once we got the goats sheltered, we wouldn’t have much need to come back down to Santa Fe proper unless we were just dying to. And I didn’t see that happening anytime soon.
Thinking about our goats made me recall the herd we’d taken them from. They were just as much out in the cold, although I thought I remembered seeing a few ramshackle outbuildings on the property where they were grazing. Still, it couldn’t hurt to check on them. It wasn’t that out of our way.
When I mentioned my concerns to Jace, he nodded. “That’s probably a good idea. They would have more shelter there than our own goats, but we might as well look. If they’re in trouble, we can unload this stuff, get the horse trailer, and then bring them back to the compound. It might take a couple of trips, though.”
I said I wouldn’t mind that at all, so we got into the Cherokee and drove off, angling away from our normal route so we could get to the edge of town and the small ranch where we’d first found the goats. But when we got there, the animals were all gone. I would have said they’d wandered off on their own, but I could see tire tracks in the dirt, tracks that were fatter and wider than those of my Jeep. Some big off-road truck, if I had to guess.
Jace seemed to be of the same opinion, because he squatted down to take a closer look, one finger digging into the rutted earth. “Probably a half-ton pickup, judging by the tread and how deep it is.” He stood, following the tracks along the narrow dirt road that led to the pasture gate. We’d come in that same way, but it looked like the truck had turned and headed west afterward, rather than to the east, the direction of town and our own hidden compound.
“Where do you think they were going?” I asked.
“I have no idea. I don’t think there’s much out that way, unless they were headed to the highway. And if that’s the case, their home base could be anywhere.”
“So you don’t think they’re local?”
For a second or two, Jace didn’t answer me. He just stood there, gazing off to the west, straight brows pulled together in a frown. The wind blew his loose hair, turning it into a shining raven cloud around his head, but for some reason, I didn’t find myself quite as lost in admiration as I might otherwise have been. Instead, a shiver of apprehension went down my spine. Whatever thoughts might be occupying his mind, they didn’t look as if they were pleasant ones.
“I don’t know if they’re from around here,” he said at last. “Maybe, maybe not. Maybe one of the survivors knew this ranch existed, then noticed some of the goats were missing and came back to get the rest before they disappeared, too. And maybe they’re holed up someplace remote, just like we are.” He turned and began heading back to the Jeep, walking quickly. I practically had to jog to keep up with him.
I almost asked what the rush was, but he seemed to know what I was thinking. Jaw tense, he told me,
“I think it’s better that we get back. We’ve been gone long enough.”
Nothing else, but the implication was enough to make me hurry into the passenger seat, to hold on as he drove faster than he really should have on the way home, the trailer rattling and bumping behind us. It was a beautiful, brisk fall day, but I couldn’t enjoy the scenery. I just wanted to get home and make sure everything was all right.
If anything had happened to Dutchie….
But when we pulled up and opened the gate, everything looked fine. The goats were still wandering around, eating dried grass, and I could hear the hens clucking away in the chicken coop. Jace maneuvered the Jeep around so he could back the trailer up to the edge of the yard. That way, he wouldn’t have to carry the lumber as far. He left it, though, to come with me to the house.
“Let me go in first,” he said, and I did as he asked, allowing him to walk in front of me.
All that did was subject him to the first of Dutchie’s onslaught. She came bounding up to us, panting, tail wagging, nose busily sniffing the bags we carried. Since all they held was the clothing we’d pilfered from REI, she lost interest soon enough, instead hanging out by the pantry, clearly angling for a chewy treat.
“I think it’s safe,” I told Jace, going to get the dog her treat. Maybe she hadn’t exactly earned it, but I was so happy to see her and the rest of the property safe that I didn’t much care.
“Probably. I’ll go drop this stuff in the bedroom, though. That way I can check the rest of the house.”
I didn’t bother to stop him. If it made him feel better, he was welcome to search every inch of the property.
After I gave Dutchie her treat, I paused and surveyed the kitchen. Nothing appeared out of place, unless you wanted to count some
water slopped on the floor around the dog’s bowl. The world’s neatest drinker she was not. Otherwise, though, it was tidy enough, the dishes stacked in the wooden drainer on the counter, everything I’d used to make breakfast either put back in the refrigerator or the pantry.
Jace entered the kitchen then, relief plain on his face. “Everything looks fine.”
“Were you really worried it wouldn’t?”
“I don’t know. I suppose — ” He stopped there, clearly trying to decide what he really wanted to say. “I suppose seeing all that stuff taken rattled me. I’m not sure why. Maybe because the last time we were in town, I didn’t see any evidence of other survivors. Now, though….” His shoulders lifted; I noticed that he’d taken off the leather jacket he’d worn on our expedition. “I know it’s stupid. They have just as much right to help themselves to supplies as we do. But the way they came in and took all the rest of the goats? It feels…greedy, I guess. We only took what we needed.”
I could see what he was thinking, but at the same time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to ascribe any negative intentions to the people who’d collected the rest of the herd. “Maybe…or maybe they saw them and were worried about them, the same way we were, and took them all because they had more room for them. There could be all sorts of reasons.”
“You’re probably right.” The square set of his shoulders seemed to relax a little, and he came over to me and took me in his arms, holding me tightly against him. Something of the cool juniper-scented wind outdoors seemed to have clung to his hair, and I breathed it in, marveling at how the feel of him could drive all worries right out of my head. Whoever had absconded with the goats, it really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. We had enough to keep our own little homestead going, and would have more goats in the spring, once the does gave birth. Really, in a couple of seasons we’d be swimming in animals and wondering what the heck we were supposed to do with all of them.
Magic in the Desert: Three Paranormal Romance Series Starters Set in the American Southwest Page 46
