The Awakened World Boxed Set

by William Stacey

  He secured the bracer around his forearm, feeling his skin tingle with occult power. He closed his eyes and cast out his will, sending it hundreds of kilometers away, seeking the pack and its one-eyed leader. He found them in an instant. The pack leader was enraged at the intrusion on its consciousness, but Shane couldn't care a whit about what an animal wanted. He forced his will upon the beast, making it howl in agony until it submitted.

  The leader always fought Shane and always lost.

  Pain was the ultimate motivator.

  Mother Smoke Heart had entrusted him with the bracer right after she had used it to command the chupacabra pack to destroy the Norteno base and capture both the Jaguar Knight and that stuck-up bitch Constance Morgan. Shane had done his part, drugging their food with a powerful sedative before the attack. Both Morgan and the Jaguar Knight had been sound asleep when the pack tore through the fort’s soldiers. He grinned. Oh, how they must have suffered since that night.

  The thought of their torment gave him a powerful erection, and he debated taking a minute to masturbate. He decided against it, knowing there was no time now for self-pleasure, not if he was going to catch Tavi as well as the fugitives. Using the bracer, he gave his orders to the pack leader. The dumb beast didn't understand words like "mountains" or "roads," but it did grasp images, so he sent it a mental image of a walled settlement at the base of a large mountain, a place he had been before and seen with his own eyes. Once the beast understood where to go, Shane made sure it knew what to do once the pack arrived.

  Kill.

  But not Tavi. He had special plans for her. He needed to learn what her secret mission was, even if he had to skin her alive to find out. He didn’t hate her. He was rather fond of her and the time they had spent together. He could be kind. He could be tender. If she told him what he wanted to know, he’d even put a bullet in her face.

  After all, he wasn’t a monster.

  Chapter 18

  As the sun rose, it lit up the foothills of the Cuyamaca Mountains, making them appear to glow with gold. Angie and the Seagraves rode through coarse, dry chaparral shrublands, keeping to the small forests of pine as much as possible. Shortly after seven a.m., Rowan sent Erin on alone up ahead while the others rested. Angie stood on a boulder, staring at the shrublands behind them. "I don’t see them."

  "They're there," Jay said from where he sat on his own boulder. He was aggressively chewing something he had found in his patrol bag, and he spoke with a mouthful of food. "A platoon at least. Several dozen men on horseback."

  Casey joined them, his bearded face twisted into a scowl. "Just a platoon? I’m insulted."

  "Give them time," Rowan called out from where he stood twenty paces ahead, staring off in the direction Erin had gone. "You'll get your wish yet."

  Angie shook her head. Even after days together, she was amazed at their hearing. She might never have a private discussion around this family.

  "Wasn't wishing," Casey sniffed.

  Jay smiled. "Just whining."

  Casey scowled and then looked down without moving his head. "You see this?"

  Jay glanced down. "See what?"

  Casey was making a circle of his thumb and forefinger, holding it against his hip.

  Jay’s eyes widened. "Wait—"

  Casey punched Jay in the biceps hard enough to make Angie wince. "Ow!" Jay twisted away from the larger man.

  Casey grinned, raising his fist again. "That’s two for flinching." Then he punched Jay even harder in the same spot.

  Rowan ambled over. "If you two clowns have so much energy, how about riding on our back trail for a klick or so, check on our Norteno friends."

  Neither Jay nor Casey looked happy, but they mounted their horses and rode away, leaving Angie alone with Rowan. "So, what now?" she asked.

  He pointed to the Cuyamaca Mountains ahead of them, like a wall. "We go north. About fifteen klicks from here, we find a dry riverbed that cuts through a pass and comes out on the eastern end of Barrett Lake. The lake is shaped like a U, the ends pointing east."

  "I know the terrain."

  Rowan smile, nodding. "Course you do; you're the S2. Enemy, weather, terrain."

  "Was the S2."

  He shrugged. "Then you know the land is heavily forested near the lake, with pine, oak, and thick grasslands."

  "Yes, but the ground will be softer. We'll leave tracks."

  "I'm counting on it. We skirt the shore of the lake then head north through Boneyard Canyon and the hills on the other side. There are trails and passes, maybe not easy to follow, but we'll manage. We'll come out on the western side of the Cuyamaca Mountains and head north."

  "Water?"

  "There are year-round springs and waterfalls."

  "There's also mountain lions."

  Rowan smirked, smoothing out the ends of his mustache. "The very last thing we need to worry about is big cats—the second they catch our scent, they'll hightail it in the other direction."

  He's serious, she realized. "Okay, what then?"

  "Then we keep the mountains on our right until we hit Highway 8. Once we do, we leave tracks—not too obvious, mind you—and head west for the Commonwealth. For a bit. Once we find the right spot, we leave the highway again and go east until we hit Pine Valley."

  Pine Valley? That's where Tavi said she was heading. "I know the settlement. Rowan, there's a Norteno farming settlement and military outpost there."

  He shook his head. "We're not gonna get close. We move around the settlement and head northwest for a pass I know through the Laguna Mountains. From there, we're home free all the way to the Colorado Desert—badlands, but way safer than hanging around California."

  "I don't know about safer."

  At that moment, Erin rode back, her horse's hooves kicking up dust as she reined the animal to a halt before Rowan and Angie. "Clear path ahead. Saw some deer, birds, nothing that walks on two legs."

  Rowan scratched the gray stubble on his chin, pursed his lips thoughtfully, and nodded. "Cool beans."

  "What are cool beans?" Angie asked.

  Erin made a "Who knows?" face and shrugged. "He says stuff like that. You get used to it."

  "You kids." Rowan shook his head.

  Erin stared north, the rising sun turning her red hair gold. "Where are we going to stop?"

  "Somewhere no one knows us. Somewhere we can make a new home," Rowan answered. "If we must, we go all the way to Old Colorado."

  "That's like a thousand kilometers," Angie said.

  "You're not wrong about that," Rowan said, his voice drifting off as if he was lost in thought. After a few moments, he looked over at them and smiled. "Little walking never hurt anyone. Let's go. We're burning daylight."

  Erin turned her horse about, and it whinnied softly as she kicked her heels into its flanks, breaking the animal into a trot as she led the way once more. Angie and Rowan mounted their own horses and then followed.

  Just before noon, Shane stopped his mount, a chestnut stallion, and used his field binoculars to scan the hills to his north. He saw nothing but scrublands and dense, grassy hills. He knew the fugitives were out there, though; his rangers had found their tracks easily enough, but they were setting a fast pace and pushing their horses, and they kept to the woods. It was just a matter of time, though. Shane had a company of Norteno rangers with him, and each man had a spare mount. There were also two other sections of soldiers from military posts to the north and northwest moving independently of his company to intercept the fugitives. Shane had all the men and resources he needed to catch them.

  Which was also kind of a problem—too many witnesses.

  He lowered his binoculars and glanced at the other riders waiting for him. These soldiers, necessary for the moment, were going to get in the way soon. He sighed, using his forearm to wipe his sweaty face. Oh well, that's why it’s called collateral damage. Besides, once the invasion starts, they're all just going to die anyway.

  One of his sergeants, an experience
d tracker named Garcia, nudged his mount closer to Shane. "They know what they're doing, sir."

  Shane pursed his lips. "They’re not that good. Soon enough, our fresher mounts will run them down."

  Sergeant Garcia sighed. "Not necessarily. They're moving toward Barrett Lake."

  Shane frowned. "So? So what?"

  "No offense, sir. Just that the terrain to the north of the lake is rough, and it'll be just as hard for us."

  Shane snorted. "So it’ll slow them down as well."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Besides, there are only a couple of passes near the lake, and we already have troops watching those. Once they try to get through, those troops will fix them in place until we take ’em up the ass."

  "Yes, sir."

  There was something in the man's tone that Shane didn't care for. He turned and glared at him. "What?"

  Garcia leaned over his saddle and spat on the ground, then pursed his lips thoughtfully, his narrow eyes squinting. "They're playing with us, sir. I'm sure of it."

  "What do you mean?"

  "They had several hours’ head start in the dark, but they didn't take advantage of it, not really. From everything we know of them, they see perfectly well at night and should have tried to slip around us or set a false trail. Instead, they’ve just pushed north, never deviating. A half-mad blind Feral could follow them."

  Shane grunted, considering his words. "But the mage, she doesn't see in the dark. Maybe she's slowing them down."

  Garcia’s frown seemed fixed in place. "Maybe, sir."

  Shane lifted his binoculars and scanned the terrain once more. Just for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of movement in the trees about two kilometers to the north. "I don't know why they haven't gone faster or further," he finally said in a measured tone, "but I'm not going to second-guess our luck. We catch them and it won't matter. We can ask them why they didn't run faster just before we shoot them in the fucking head."

  Garcia watched him wordlessly.

  "If they don't surrender first," Shane added quickly.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Let's push on, Sergeant." He pointed to their front, and the other man kicked his horse’s flanks, getting out ahead of Shane. Shane led his horse to the side and paused for a moment, letting the ranks of mounted soldiers ride past. As they did, Shane reached behind himself, shifting his short cape out of the way, and patted his saddlebag, feeling the familiar shape of the bracer.

  Chapter 19

  With the afternoon sun beating down on her head, Angie removed her canteen from her saddle and drank, forcing herself not to finish it all. She had removed the Brujas cape hours ago, stuffing it into one of her saddlebags. She didn't understand why they wore them at all, especially in this heat.

  Jay had been right, and the Nortenos were hunting them. She had seen them herself from a distance, mounted men moving over a high feature behind them. The Nortenos were clearly gaining ground, but neither Rowan nor the others seemed concerned. Nor did Rowan make any effort to speed up. Earlier, Erin had scouted ahead once more and returned to report other mounted patrols to the north and northeast, moving to try to get ahead and ambush them. Yet Rowan had simply nodded as if it were no big deal and pushed on into the dense scrublands.

  They saw no other signs of life, nor did they expect to. Anyone living out here was a Feral, and they were better off staying the hell away from those cannibals. They passed abandoned pre-Awakening homes built atop the high forested peaks, no doubt for the spectacular valley views, but didn’t come close to any of them. They’d be little more than shells now, gutted by time and overgrown by forest.

  Just after three p.m., they rode over a ridgeline and came upon a dry, boulder-strewn canyon on its far side. Hauser Canyon. There was a riverbed at the base of the canyon with rounded hills rising on either side. The riverbed was dry this late in the summer and led to a little-known pass through the base of the mountains, coming out on the eastern end of Barrett Lake.

  Erin led them down a steep trail to the riverbed. The ground, though dry, was soft, and even Angie clearly saw the hoofprints they left in their wake. Rowan was playing a game, she knew, leading their pursuers, but it still made her feel uneasy.

  There was more vegetation and trees here along the riverbed, signifying that water flowed here for at least part of the year. The shade from the trees provided relief from the brutal sun, and they moved through oak chaparral shrublands and thick patches of knee-high needlegrass. Here, even Angie saw signs of animal life—tracks of mule deer, pronghorn antelope, and predators like coyotes and mountain lions. Despite what Rowan had told her about mountain lions, she found herself nervously eyeing the tall patches of grass. She didn’t see any lions, but she did see birds—mostly jays and gulls but once an honest-to-god bald eagle. The birds flew west in the direction of Barrett Lake. There were snakes in the area, Jay had told her, most notably the nonvenomous mountain kingsnake, but thankfully, she saw nothing that slithered or hissed, which was just fine with her.

  Jay rode beside her now, a sly smile on his handsome features. "You smell that?"

  "Smell what?" Then she did: the unmistakable scent of water and green vegetation. She had had no idea she could smell water, and the revelation was both shocking and refreshing. She needed to spend more time in the wilderness.

  He nodded. "Barrett Lake."

  Less than twenty minutes later, they rode out of the riverbed and saw the glistening surface of the lake in the late-afternoon sun. Long before A-Day, Barrett Dam had blocked the confluence of two creeks—the Cottonwood and Pine Valley—creating this large U-shaped lake. The lake had provided all of San Diego's water, and although the city was dead now, the dam and lake remained.

  As they rode closer to the lake's shore, she could just make out the gray of the dam's concrete walls in the distance. In another dozen years, it would likely fall apart, and then the lake would disappear. And how much longer for the rest of us?

  Jay must have noticed the look on her face, because he gave her shoulder a nudge. "Hey, cheer up. We're alive."

  She forced a smile to her lips. "Right."

  A fish jumped out of the water, its scales sparkling silver, and she gasped in delight, her smile now very real.

  Angie sat on the edge of the lake. Rowan had given them a short break, sending Casey back to watch their trail while the others took a breather and refilled their canteens from the freshwater lake. This was the most beautiful and amazing place she had ever been. Frogs hopped through the wet grass, large dragonflies flitted through the air from water to lily, fish leaped from the lake, and birds dove into the water, chasing the fish. Here, life was abundant—nothing like Sanwa City.

  Their patrol packs contained dried beef jerky and rock-hard high-carbohydrate oat and nut bars wrapped in greased cloth. Angie took a bite of her bar, working a small chunk free with her teeth. The bars were edible, barely, but they were like chewing stones. While they rested, they let the horses graze. Another fish splashed in the water.

  "Nice place to visit someday with a fishing pole," observed Jay, his hands on his hips.

  "Not gonna get the chance," said Erin sadly. "We need to get gone from this part of the world."

  Angie watched them silently, her mind lost in memories. She had spent her entire life in the San Joaquin Valley: first as a navy brat at Naval Air Station Lemoore then as a magic student in Char's school in Fresno. After Char’s school, she had entered service in the Home Guard as a lieutenant. The life that followed was spent in the Bunker and then her crappy little apartment in Sanwa City. Now she was going to follow a vague plan to go east, maybe the Midlands, maybe the Western Union, but they’d have to go far to find some place where they could escape notoriety. The Home Guard had fought several border skirmishes with the Midlanders, and she suspected the Seagrave werewolf family was every bit as despised there as it was in in the Democratic Republica Mexicana del Norte.

  But what choice did they have?

  They couldn't
go home. Even if Marshal forgave them for the attack on the Bunker, the Tzitzime still wanted to sacrifice Erin. And without Tec, there was no refuge among the Nortenos. Maybe they'd have to go all the way to the purple mountains of Great Appalachia to find somewhere no one knew them. But then they'd be little better than Ferals. No one lived without the support of others, not in the post-Awakened world.

  When she heard a horse, she jumped to her feet and watched Casey gallop along the riverbed. He halted his animal and dropped from the saddle, taking the full canteen Rowan held for him. He drank greedily, water running into his unruly red beard. She joined the others milling about Casey as he wiped his mouth with the back of his arm.

  "Well?" Rowan asked.

  "A company," Casey said, tossing his head back in the direction he had ridden. "An entire platoon in the riverbed with outriders to the east and west. Some dogs, too, but they don't want no part of us. I left ’em a present." He winked at Angie. "Marked my territory, so to speak." He paused, his lips tight as he turned to Rowan. "My guess is they're already watching the passes."

  "Not all the passes," said Rowan.

  Casey snorted. "You could be right. These ones are cocky. I coulda taken two or three before they even realized I was there."

  "Maybe," said Rowan, his expression grim. "But there'll be mages as well, and shades are a pain in the ass to deal with."

  Casey flashed a toothy grin at Angie. "Not like our little Angie-baby here, our very own vampire shredder. I suspect she could teach those cape-wearing Brujas losers a thing or three."

  "I don't want to kill the Brujas," she said quickly.

  "Not asking you to," Rowan said, frowning at Casey. "I don't want to kill anyone, not unless we have no choice." He said the last part louder, meeting the eyes of each brother and sister. Then he faced north, where the land rose in a series of high rounded ridgelines that ran east to west like trenches. "It's gonna be a tough slog from here on out. Those badlands are gonna kick our ass, but when we get over them, we’ll be almost home free."