Raid

by K. S. Merbeth

  I crawl on my hands and knees across the camp while the fight rages. I flinch and duck at every gunshot and clang of metal and thud of flesh, but none of it is aimed at me. The raiders are more concerned about the ones with guns, the poachers too busy handling three angry raiders each to pay attention to me, but Jed’s eyes never leave me.

  “I knew you’d come for me,” he says, grinning, as I draw closer.

  I crawl right past him, my eyes homing in on one thing: my bag of guns. I scoop it up and unzip it, quickly sifting through to verify my guns and ammo are inside. I check that my pistol is loaded, take that, and sling the bag over my shoulder. I find two bottles of water as well, tossing those in with my weapons. Unfortunately, there’s no food to be found. But despite that, a deep calm settles over me. With a gun in my hand, it feels like I just might make it through this alive.

  “Clementine,” Jed says, attempting to wriggle in my direction. “Hey! You are here for me, right?”

  I pause, glancing over the fight still raging between the poachers and raiders. As much as I’d love to be the one who kills those damn poachers, I don’t think it’s worth getting involved.

  “C’mon! I left that food for you. I saved your life!” Jed is saying. I finally look at him. He’s a bit battered, with a split lip and a swollen eye. His good eye is very wide and locked on me. “You know I can be useful. We’re better off together.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, crouching beside him. Getting my guns was more important, but I never planned on leaving him here either. He’s right that he’s saved my life more than once now: first in the Nameless Town, and later when he left food behind. And while he’s probably going to run back to his father as soon as he gets a chance, for now, we are better off together. Can’t say that I’m not eager for companionship out here in the wastes, either, as much as the realization of that surprises me. The long days of wandering alone have changed my perspective a little, and given how weak I am right now, it won’t hurt to have someone else around.

  I work at the bindings around his ankles first, and then those around his wrists. I glance over him as I do so. Aside from the minor wounds on his face, he seems mostly unharmed. Considering the way he was acting, he’s pretty damn lucky to still be in one piece.

  We’re going to need a little more of that luck to get out of here alive. The raiders and poachers may be too busy dealing with one another to pay much attention to us, but there are still bullets and limbs flying everywhere. Cat stumbles right toward us, entangled with a raider twice her size. Jed sticks out a leg to trip the man and they both go down. Cat’s pinned beneath the man, trapped—but a moment later, the raider screams as her sharpened teeth rip into his throat.

  I keep one eye on the fight as I finish untying Jed’s wrists. Right now it’s a total bloodbath, and it’s hard to tell who’s winning. We need to get out of here before that changes and they suddenly remember we exist. Once I get Jed free, I stand and yank him to his feet beside me.

  Nearby, Cat is grappling with two men now, a third lifeless nearby, blood still spurting from his torn throat. Bird has another raider on the ground, and is currently straddling his chest and driving a knife repeatedly into his face. Her head jerks up as Jed and I stand, her mask whipping toward me, goggles shining in the darkness. Another raider tackles her to the ground before she can do anything about it.

  “Whew,” Jed says. “Like I said. Knew you’d come for me.”

  I glance sideways at him, suppressing a smile.

  “Oh, shut up,” I say. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Together, we run into the wastes.

  XIV

  The Council of Fort Cain

  We run until we can’t hear the sounds of shouting or gunfire any longer, and then slow to a walk, side by side. Neither of us talks. Not enough breath, and nothing to say, at least on my part. We’re back together, for better or for worse.

  After a while, it feels like we’ve put some good distance between us and the poachers. My weakened body is exhausted, and stumbling around blindly in the dark becomes more trouble than it’s worth. I point out a cluster of rocks nearby, which seems like the best shelter we’re going to get, and we curl up against the biggest one. I down most of a bottle of water, rest my hand on my gun, and drift into sleep beside Jed.

  We wake up at the crack of dawn and start walking again. I’m more tired than ever, my body wearing down quickly from the lack of food, but I force myself to keep moving. The wastes are quiet around us. No poachers, no raiders. Maybe they killed each other off, though I doubt we’re that lucky. I’d be willing to bet that Bird and Cat made it through. It’s more likely that they just don’t know where we are, or have temporarily pulled back to lick their wounds. Either way, we’re safe for now. Better yet, Jed says the poachers spoke of a town while he was with them, and he knows what direction to head in, though he doesn’t know how far it is. It’s possible we’ll run into the two assholes on the way there, but it’s still our best bet.

  “Wait,” Jed says, jerking to such a sudden stop that I quickly look around for some kind of threat. There’s nothing but empty wastes around us, so I turn back to Jed, who is staring off into the distance and frowning. “Wrong way,” he says, turns to the left, and starts walking again.

  Within the next hour, he does the same thing twice more. I have to admit I was relieved to be reunited with him and have some decent company out here, but that relief dwindles as my stomach growls. We may have gotten enough water to keep me from collapsing, but I’m still weak from exhaustion and hunger.

  “Do you actually know where we’re going or not?” I ask, grinding my teeth and trying to refrain from snapping at him. Jed stops walking again, placing his hands on his hips and tapping one foot.

  “Good question,” he says. He pauses, gnawing his bottom lip while he thinks, and then his eyes light up. “Wait—got it!” He licks one of his fingers and thrusts it up in the air above him. He holds it there, the rest of his body stock-still.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I ask, after several seconds of this.

  “Checking the wind,” he says without moving. I stare at him, bewildered. A solid thirty seconds pass without any change. Finally, he lowers his finger. “There’s no wind,” he says, regretfully.

  “Yeah, no shit,” I say. “This isn’t the time to fuck around, Jed.” I know at this point that he’s certainly no idiot, but he is wasting our time right now, and we don’t have much to spare. My legs feel like they’re going to give out at any second.

  “Just trying to lighten the mood,” he says, shrugging. “It’s getting kind of grim around here.”

  I sigh and resume walking in the latest direction he’s chosen, beginning to wonder how the hell Jed has survived this far, and how I could’ve ever missed having him around. After a few moments, he trudges after me.

  After seeing nothing but empty wastes for a few hours, I start to think Jed might have no idea what he’s talking about. Even if there’s a town somewhere around here, I’m not sure if I can make it. My legs are starting to shake, threatening to give out every few steps, and my head feels light. Progress is agonizingly slow, and I can feel my already-paltry strength waning by the minute. My throat and eyes burn, every blink and breath harder than the last one. Soon Jed ends up walking ahead of me, while I lag behind. Jed shoots worried glances over his shoulder and stops humming and making his stupid jokes.

  “Can’t be much longer,” he says. His voice is quieter than normal, almost coaxing, his face etched with a frown that makes him look older.

  Of course it can be, I think, half-delirious, looking out at the expanse of endless wastelands around us. It could be forever. The town we’re looking for might not even exist anymore. It could’ve been swallowed by the wastes, and soon we will be too. But I say nothing, and force myself to keep moving.

  And against all odds, after a second hour passes, a town emerges on the horizon.

  “There it is,” Jed yells, pointing toward
the looming buildings and turning to me, as if there’s any way I could possibly have missed them. “I told you so!”

  “Quiet down,” I say, eyeing the place. “We don’t know if they’re friendly.”

  “Well, it’s not like we’re gonna sneak up on them,” Jed says. Still, he quiets as we draw closer.

  This place is certainly bigger than the Nameless Town. It may not have been on the map I had, but it’s clearly an established town nonetheless, not something shoddily thrown together. A wall constructed of scrap metal and spare car parts surrounds the place, topped with barbed wire. The only break in the fence is the front gate, a huge and impenetrable-looking sheet of rusty metal. Jed and I stop a few feet away from it. I scrutinize the gate, searching for a way to open it.

  “Move along, strangers,” a voice calls from above. I lean back and look up to see a woman scowling down at me from a lookout perch. It sticks out just above the wall and is tilted slightly, as if it’s on the verge of falling over. The woman wears a helmet and wields an impressive sniper rifle. I raise both my hands, and elbow Jed in the side, prompting him to do the same.

  “We mean no harm,” I shout up to the woman. “Just need a place to stay for a night or two.”

  She says nothing, but gestures with her gun for us to leave. My gut tightens. If this town turns us away, I’m done for. I need food badly. Without it, I don’t think I’ll be able to get up tomorrow. But talking to people has never been a strong point of mine, and it’s harder still with my head swimming from fatigue and hunger.

  “Do something,” I whisper to Jed.

  He blinks at me, and looks up at the guard above.

  “Please,” he says, with as much desperation as he can channel into a shout. “We’ve got nowhere else to go. We won’t make it to the next town.”

  “Not my problem,” she says, and leans back in her perch, a clear dismissal. Jed and I exchange another glance, and I shrug.

  “All right, strategy number two,” Jed mumbles under his breath, and clears his throat. “We’ve got guns to trade,” he shouts up to her. “And ammo.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You’re gonna need ’em,” he adds, “for what’s coming this way.”

  She leans forward, looking down at us.

  “The raiders?” she asks. “We got word from out there, but …”

  “We’ve faced it ourselves,” I shout up to her. “Barely made it out.”

  She stares down at us, clearly thinking about something. I have no idea what it could be, but Jed’s face sharpens with realization.

  “Let us in and we’ll tell you all about it,” he says. “We faced them once and lived. We’ll help you do the same.”

  She pauses for a long moment. Then she stands up, looks down at the other side of the gate, and gestures to someone. A moment later, with a screech of metal, the gate starts to rise. It does so slowly, full of creaking complaints, like it’s tired of doing its job and wants the world to know.

  “Nice job,” I say to Jed, glancing sideways at him.

  “Told you I could be useful,” he says, grinning.

  Jed and I stay where we are with our hands in the air. Gradually, the rising gate reveals the town within, including a man manually working the crank, and a half dozen armed townies waiting on the other side. I resist the urge to grab my gun. When they gesture at us to enter, we step inside, and the gate slams shut behind our backs.

  The townies welcome us by shoving guns in our faces and shouting commands.

  “Get on the ground!” one man yells, at the same time another says, “Don’t fucking move!”

  Jed and I look at each other in confusion.

  “Uh,” Jed says. “Which do you want us to—”

  One man circles around to Jed’s back and jabs him forward with the gun, and another promptly shoves him back. He stumbles, struggling to stay on his feet. It takes all my willpower to keep my hands in the air.

  “Give us your weapons,” a man in front of us says. I reach for my pistol, and immediately another townie screams at me not to touch my gun. I stop moving and take a deep breath, desperately trying to keep my shit together, while the townies push us this way and that, shouting a variety of commands.

  Jed keeps his hands held skyward. I very slowly pluck my gun out of its holster, lower it to the ground, and raise my hands again. Thankfully none of the idiot townies mistake that for aggression, and once it becomes clear we’re not going to resist, the shouting gradually dies down. Despite our cooperation, they still insist on holding us at gunpoint while others pat us down, removing each and every thing that could remotely constitute a weapon from our bodies. I force myself to bite my tongue as they take my guns, no matter how much I hate it. I just got the damn things back, and already they’re gone.

  Despite the treatment, part of me is glad to see that the townies are so wary. It means they haven’t given up yet. They are, however, very afraid. They’re tightly wound and jerky in their movements, eyes skittering around, three lookouts keeping an eye on the wastes outside like they expect us to have armed friends charging in behind us. I’m half-certain they’re going to take our weapons and throw us out in the wastes again, which would be a death sentence. But thankfully, after we’ve made a great show of being cooperative and peaceful, they relax a bit—though they keep our weapons.

  The town looked imposing and organized from the outside, but on the other side of the wall, we’re merely the newest addition to a cluster-fuck of activity. Townspeople are running everywhere, carrying personal belongings and supplies to and fro, arguing over what belongs to whom, fighting over what should be saved and what should be left behind. We pass two men playing tug-of-war with a half-broken chair, yelling about whether it’s better to burn it for cooking or add it to the defenses. If there’s someone in charge here, they’re not showing their face. I guess they have bigger things to worry about than a tussle over furniture.

  A group of five of the men and women who were guarding the front wall escort us through town, completely ignoring the chaos around us, guns pointed at our heads the whole time. Jed lowers his hands and walks at a leisurely pace, glancing around at the various ridiculous scenes around us. He looks like he’s trying very hard not to smile. I shoot him a glare for that. We’re already walking on thin ice; the townies don’t need to see him being amused by their trouble. Thankfully, none of the townies notice his mirth.

  They lead us to a building in the back, away from the chaos at the heart of town. After muttering among themselves, the group accompanying us disperses, leaving only the woman from the lookout perch behind. She silently escorts us into the building.

  The room we enter is quiet. It holds only a run-down, stained wooden table, with two women and a man seated at it. Spread across the surface between them is a frayed, yellowed piece of paper with curled edges. As soon as we enter, the three grab it and turn it facedown, hiding its contents from our sight. I catch only a glimpse of what seems to be a diagram of the town.

  “What’s this?” one of the women asks sharply. She’s middle-aged, with pinched lips and olive skin. She scrutinizes Jed and me and glares at the guard accompanying us. “I thought we agreed not to let any strangers into town. We’ve got enough to worry about already.”

  “I know, I know,” the guard says. She takes off her helmet, runs a hand through her sweaty hair, and shrugs. “But these two say they’ve seen the raiders. Thought we should hear what they have to say.”

  The woman at the table looks back at us, her eyes narrowing.

  “They’ve been disarmed, at least?”

  “Of course,” the guard says. “And I gotta say, there was a lot of disarming to be done. The two were packing. Her especially.” She jerks her chin at me. I keep my face neutral, meeting the eyes of the woman at the table. Her lips twist to one side, and she nods at the guard.

  “Got it. You can go now.”

  The guard leaves us. When the door shuts behind her, the room is quiet. The three towni
es at the table eye us warily. Jed, beside me, shifts from foot to foot and clears his throat. I shoot him a warning glare, just to make sure he doesn’t get any stupid ideas, but he stays quiet.

  “So which of you is in charge here?” I ask finally, looking from one to another.

  “All of us,” the single man says. He has hard eyes and a scruffy black goatee. “We’re the council of Fort Cain.” He says it with a proudly raised chin, like I should recognize the name of their backwater little western town. I look at Jed, wondering if I should have heard of the place, but he shrugs back at me, as lost as I am.

  “All right,” I say. “Well, we—”

  “So you saw the raiders?” the woman who spoke before asks. “We’ve had a few people fleeing this way, talking about some massive army coming this way, but no details. You actually saw them?”

  I take a deep breath, trying to stifle my annoyance at being interrupted, reminding myself that we’re currently at these people’s mercy.

  “We did,” I say. “They overtook the last town we stayed in.”

  “How many of them were there?” the man asks. I know what he’s really asking: Do we have a chance? I don’t think he really wants to know the answer, but is it really better to lie to him, set up false hopes? I exchange another look with Jed.

  “A lot of them,” I say. “It’s hard to get an exact number.” It’s the best I can do, I figure, without causing a panic. But the council, of course, isn’t pleased with that response—or maybe the implied answer behind it: Too many.

  “It’s possible some of them have split off from the main group by now,” Jed adds, finally speaking up. “But yeah, last time we saw, I’d say … about a hundred of them, at least.”

  Clearly he hasn’t taken the hint to be vague. The council members murmur among themselves, their expressions troubled. I stay silent, waiting for them to speak again. Whatever damage Jed has done with the truth, it can’t be undone at this point.