The Road North

by Phillip D Granath

  “Yeah, we’ll stay here and cover you,” Miles added.

  “You’re going to cover me? Shit Miles, no need to make threats.”

  With that Coal jumped down from the buggy and began walking down the highway towards the checkpoint, his rifle in hand. Kyle began slowly creeping the vehicle forward, trailing behind the bounty hunter a good 50 feet. But the closer they got to the structure, the more nervous Kyle became.

  “Miles hand me the shotgun.”

  The old man picked up the weapon and looking between Kyle and the bunker said, “I told him I would cover him and I got it.”

  “Miles give me that fucking thing. If you had to pull the trigger, you’re just as likely to drive that arrow through your heart as anything.”

  Begrudgingly Miles handed over the shotgun, and Kyle propped it up on the driver’s side door, holding the weapon with one hand and the wheel with the other. Ahead of them, Coal advanced on the checkpoint at a casual pace. To most, Coal probably looked as if he was bored. Kyle had worked with the bounty-hunter long enough to recognize this ploy. Coal was doing his best to look like an easy target, with the hopes that anyone watching would allow him to get as close as possible. The truth was, in a world where bullets were few and far between, no one wanted to waste a single shot. The man held his rifle low as if almost forgotten and at one point he even faked a yawn, using the opportunity to glance across the road.

  Finally, Coal’s leisurely approach brought him to within just 20 feet of the bunker. The bounty hunter casually raised his rifle, resting the butt of the gun on his hip, and pretending to stretch while taking the opportunity to take one more look around, but still he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Coal was ready to drop the charade and signal Kyle to pull forward when from his right he heard the slightest of sounds. It was something akin to the rustle of leather, followed by the sound of stretching rubber. Without another thought, Coal was in motion spinning to his right while snapping the rifle to his shoulder in the same motion. At that same instant, a five-foot length of dark steel flew from the bunker’s window. The spear crossed the distance nearly faster than the eye could follow and slammed into Coal’s chest. It felt like getting hit with a sledgehammer, but the bounty hunter was already squeezing the trigger.

  The rifle went off with a deafening roar, but the moment Coal pulled the trigger, something strange happened. The weapon that he had carried for years first seemed to flex and then shattered in his hands as the wooden stock failed in a spray of splinters. The bullet went wide, striking a sandbag six inches to the right of the opening. Coal blinked twice in confusion. In his right hand he was left awkwardly holding the front grip, barrel and action of his rifle, while his left hand, aside from a host of wooden splinters and blood, was now empty. At the hunter’s feet lay the steel spear and immediately the bounty-hunter realized what had happened, the rifle’s wooden stock had taken a direct hit, saving his life and a moment later when he pulled the trigger the, the stock had failed.

  “Coal!” he heard Kyle shout.

  The bounty-hunter turned and found the buggy racing towards him. The half-breed had just enough time to leap into the air, catch the vehicle’s light bar across his upper thigh and then roll up and over the hood before falling on to the pavement beside the buggy.

  “For fuck's sake Pale-face!”

  Kyle wasn’t listening. Instead the moment he got the rover to stop he raised the shotgun to his shoulder and fired a load of buckshot into the bunker and then shouted, “Get in the fucking car Coal!”

  The bounty hunter climbed to his feet, still holding his ruined weapon in one hand he reached out and grabbed ahold vehicles roll bars to pull himself in, but immediately hissed as he pulled back his wounded hand in pain.

  “The rifle, hand me the rifle!” Miles shouted from the passenger seat.

  Coal handed the old man what little remained of the gun and then using his left hand pulled himself onto the back of the buggy.

  “He’s in, go go!” Miles shouted.

  Without any need for further encouragement, Kyle smashed the pedal to the floor, and the buggy’s wheels squealed to life launching the vehicle forward. Behind the steering wheel, Kyle’s eyes darted between the bunker and the checkpoint’s narrowed roadway ahead, and he realized he wouldn’t be able to both cover them and shoot the gap. He swore and then yanking the shotgun’s trigger he gave the bunker the second barrel, hoping to at least keep their attackers ducking and then dropped the now useless shotgun. The blast peppered the sandbag structure with buckshot, but before the dust even settled Kyle saw a man emerge from the bunker’s doorway.

  He was tall and lean and wearing a long patchwork coat. His arm was pulled back, and it took a moment for Kyle to realize the man was holding a long dark spear, the twin to the one that had nearly killed Coal. Ahead of them, the opening in the checkpoint’s wall was quickly approaching. Kyle guessed they would clear the distance in maybe three seconds, but somehow, some part of Kyle knew that was more time than the stranger needed. The scavenger could only watch as the world seemed to slow around him and man’s arm whipped forward, launching the deadly missile. For the briefest of moments, Kyle thought he was about to die, but then he realized something much worse was about to happen.

  “No!” he shouted.

  From the moment the spear left The Seeker’s hand the man knew it would find its mark. The weapon crossed the distance to the rover in a heartbeat, but instead of being aimed at the bewildered driver, it was aimed at the vehicle’s front wheel instead. While the tread of the space age plastic had proven durable enough to absorb every abuse they had thrown at it, the tire’s sidewall was another matter. The spear pierced the thin plastic wall just above the wheel’s hub, traveling through the wheels intricately designed interior before exiting the other side and burying itself deep in the housing of the hub’s electric motor. From there physics took over as the rover’s left front wheel tore itself to pieces in a shower of black bits of plastic.

  A split second later the rover careened through the gap in the wall, but the vehicle was now pulling hard to the left and managed to drag itself across the sandbag wall, smashing part of the front left fender in the process. Kyle gripped the wheel with both hands, and it took every bit of strength he had just to straighten the rover out before it tore itself to pieces. The Seeker’s spear was still wedged in the electric motor, sending up tendrils of smoke and filling the air with the smell of ozone. But the vehicle was still moving, the remaining motors still spinning, pushing the vehicle ahead and dragging the left front hub across the pavement as it went. Kyle had the accelerator pressed to the floor, and the vehicle was quickly slowing, now doing barely 20 mph as they limped away. The scavenger began to ease off the throttle, but behind him, Coal began shouting, “Don’t stop! Keep moving! Go, go!”

  Perhaps a hundred yards behind them now Coal watched as the stranger stepped from behind the wall and out into the roadway. Grabbing what remained of his ruined rifle and gripping the weapon like a pistol, the bounty hunter awkwardly worked the action. Then he raised the gun in his off hand and after a moment of concentration, fired a shot. The bullet went wide, ricocheting off of the pavement several feet away from its intended target. The shot caused Coal to curse in frustration, but his target didn’t even flinch. Instead, the man reached down and casually collected his spear.

  “Who in the fuck was that? Was that the Protectorate?” Kyle shouted.

  “I somehow doubt it,” Coal replied,” Just like I doubt he’s going to let us slowly drive away from here.”

  “We need to have a look at the damage,” Miles insisted.

  “Is stopping really a good idea right now?”

  “If we stop now, we may be able to fix it, but if we keep dragging that hub across the pavement, we’ll destroy it for sure.”

  “Fix it? Fix what? The fucking wheel is gone Miles, disintegrated, and I don’t know if you noticed, but we don’t have a fucking spare!”

  “Pull over now!”
the old man snapped back.

  Kyle swore and then began to slow the buggy, “Coal, cover us!”

  “I’ll do what I can, but right now, I’m not sure I can hit a damn thing!”

  “He doesn’t know that.”

  “I don’t know, after that last shot he might,” Coal replied.

  When the rover finally ground to a halt, Kyle jumped out and then ran around the buggy helping Miles down. The old man leaned heavily upon the scavenger as the pair made their way around the front of the vehicle to look at the ruined tire and the smashed in fender. The Seeker’s spear was still wedged into the hub’s electric motor, and small tendrils of smoke were wafting out of the case.

  “Kyle, in my bag, the wire cutters quickly.”

  “Do we really have time for this?”

  “Unless you want this motor to keep shorting out, overheat and catch fire you better make fucking time!”

  Without another word, the old man lowered himself down to the pavement. Usually, the rover’s smooth space-age body would have required Miles to open and raise the vehicles entire front end. But a small silver lining to the damaged fender was that a hole the size of grapefruit now allowed him to reach the rear of the motor’s housing. A moment later Kyle appeared at his side handing him the wire cutters. Miles reached in through the opening, found the cluster of wire leading into the motor by feel alone. Then the old man said a quick prayer and with a snip cut the bundle of wires.

  “That should do it, now let’s get the fuck out of here!” Miles said.

  “What about the hub?”

  “It’s dead. It looks like we’re going to see just how far we can make it on three wheels.”

  Kyle pulled the old man to his feet and then quickly helped him back into the buggy. He was about to jump back behind the wheel when, almost as an afterthought, he bent down and yanked the spear from the ruined motor. Kyle pushed the spear into the cab, “What’s this for? Miles asked, taking the weapon.

  “Well, I’m sure as fuck not going to leave it for him.”

  Kyle climbed behind the wheel again and punched the accelerator. The vehicle groaned and started to push forward again, grinding what remained of the left front hub across the roadway as it went, but at least removing the spear seemed to make steering the wounded vehicle easier. As the remaining motors whined in protest, the rover slowly crept up to perhaps 25 mph, throwing up a shower of sparks as it went and Kyle cursed in frustration.

  “Coal, how’s our new friend doing back there?”

  “I’m not sure, he stepped back behind the wall, but he’s coming. I can feel it.”

  “We can’t run and I sure a shell don’t want to fight, we need to get the hell off of the road.”

  Miles pointed to an exit just ahead of them on the right, “Get off here,” he said. “The company that built the rover is less than ten miles from here. If we have any chance of finding a way to fix this thing, it’ll be there.”

  Kyle shook his head, he knew those were some long odds, but at the moment, it was the only chance they had, them and the town that was counting on them.

  “It looks like you’re going to get your wish after all Miles,” and with that Kyle guided the damaged vehicle off of the highway and onto the streets of Provo.

  Homecoming

  “Those boys killed anyone that they stumbled across, dozens of people without thought or remorse. Then they doomed everyone else in town when they destroyed the tower,” Anna said.

  She was sitting in Little Bird’s kitchen, wrapped in a blanket and sipping a cup of bitter tea while the Council of Elders sat around the table quietly listening to her story, but they weren’t the only ones. The kitchen was crowded with people, mostly the extended family members of the council, followed by a handful of curious neighbors. Seeing so many Indians gather around her, more than Anna had ever seen in one place had made Anna nervous at first. But these weren’t the blood splattered killers she had encountered in town or even the fierce looking warriors that had once help save her from Murphy, these were families. Old men and women, a rarity in town, huddled next to young couples, while children of many ages squirmed and slipped through the crowd of people. Anna couldn’t help but consider how much different things would be between their peoples if everyone could see this?

  Reaching over and taking her hand, Little Bird replied, “Anna, I want you to know how very sorry we are for what has happened and that no one here had any idea what Two-Steps was planning.”

  Anna looked up at her friend and gave her a half smile and a nod of thanks. The old woman had explained as much within the first few minutes of her arrival, but Anna understood what was happening. Little Bird was grandstanding in front of the gathering of people, it was the same type of small-town politics that at any other time Anna would have loathed being a part of. But this was Little Bird’s turf and her game, and as the old woman had explained, public opinion was one of the few cards that the Council of Elders had left to play.

  “This is all Two-Steps doing. Since he became Chief of the Indian Nation, he’s ridden roughshod over our laws and traditions. He’s taken the youth of our people, without the consent of their families and turned them into a pack of bloodthirsty savages. A weapon in the night to lash out with, not at our enemies, but at our friends. The people that live in the town of the whites aren’t very civilized, I’ll be the first to admit it. But when the great change came and the world fell silent their people didn’t have the advantages that we did, and for years they fought and killed one another over what little remained.”

  Little Bird paused, giving the crowd a moment to absorb her words. Across the table, Anna couldn’t help but notice another of the elders, an old man they called Laughing Dog rolled his eyes. Clearly, Anna wasn’t the only one that didn’t have a stomach for politics.

  “Some, Two-Steps among them,” Little Bird continued. “Have accused me of falling in love with the whites and forgetting my own people. But I say he is the one who has forgotten his people and their ways. Since when has sneaking into a neighbor’s house in the middle of the night, stabbing his children and destroying his things ever been our way? Never. That has never been our way, but that is exactly what Two-Steps has done. He is….”

  “Thank you Little Bird,” Laughing Dog interrupted and began clapping his hands.

  A small chorus of clapping spread throughout the crowd, but it seemed most of the onlookers were more confused than impressed by her speech. Little Bird shot the man a look that could curdle milk and then she begrudgingly retook her seat next to Anna.

  “I’m sorry to have to cut you short, but I think everyone here gets the general idea. However, the question remains, just what in the hell can we do about it?”

  A small murmur began to rise through the crowd as the gathered onlookers talked amongst themselves. While the crowd talked the Council of Elders sat in silence, Anna couldn’t help but notice that all of them carried a look of resignation, as if each already come to the same conclusion but it wasn’t the one they had been hoping for.

  “We can fight him,” a voice said.

  Anna looked up to her right, and there stood Little Bird’s daughter. The woman held a six-year-old girl in her arms, but the look on her face told Anna that she was deadly serious. At that moment she couldn’t help but think just how much the woman looked like her mother.

  “No, absolutely not,” Little Bird said.

  “But mother, you…”

  “I what girl? I’m a traitor or maybe a fool? Two-Steps may have forgotten our ways, but I have not. By rights, he is the Chief of the Indian Nation, we may not like him or agree with him, but if he commands then we must obey.”

  “Besides, he has the loyalty of the Braves, both young and old. We wouldn’t stand a chance,” Laughing Dog added.

  “And right now he has the rest of the tribe gathered in the church, and he’s filling their heads with stories and telling them of the great victory his young Braves achieved over the whites. And if I know Two
-Steps at all, his words may not convince everyone, but they’ll be convincing enough for most, and the tribe will stand behind him,” Little Bird said.

  Laughing Dog was nodding in agreement, “Facing real enemies or imagined, people like to be on the side of the victors.”

  Anna could hold back no longer, “Are you fucking serious? I risked my life just trying to get out here and tell you people about what that monster did, and you’re all just willing to let him get away with it?”

  “It’s not that simple Anna.”

  “Well it sounds that simple to me, and I’m not going to let that bastard…” Anna began.

  “Enough!” Little Bird shouted over her, “The council can protect you, but not if you do something stupid, like threaten our Chief.”

  The words gave Anna pause, she had convinced herself that once she reached Little Bird, that the old woman’s influence would be enough to guarantee her safety. Now she began to realize that may not be the case.

  “Little Bird, have you ever considered that we may not be able to protect her?” Laughing Dog interrupted, “For all we know, at this moment, Two-Steps is declaring us at war with the white. Once he does that, it would be a simple thing for him to declare Anna, a spy. Nothing any of us could say would protect her then.”

  At that moment the sound of running feet announced the arrival of Laughing Dog’s grandson. The ten-year-old boy pushed his way through the crowd and was still breathing hard when he reached the table.

  “A rider came in alone, I think it was Timmy Too-short. He jumped off his horse and ran right into the church. A few minutes later he came out again, leading the Chief and all the Braves and the whole damn tribe was following after them. They’re on their way here right now, they’ll be here any minute, all of them!”

  At the boy’s words, the kitchen exploded into noise and commotion, as everyone started talking at once. Some pushed their way towards the front door, to see the approaching mob for themselves while others moved towards the back door, eager not to be seen consorting with the council. During the chaos, Anna remained seated. She knew that any attempt she made to run or fight, would simply lead to a quick death, but if she stayed to face the Chief, maybe she could accomplish something else. Maybe it would give Little Bird’s people a chance to hear about the horrors of Two-Step’s attack from someone that had survived. Or maybe it would just allow her to get close enough to the Chief to slip a blade in between the bastard’s ribs.