by James Axler
J.B. had been particularly impressed with the truck. “The good news is that we don’t need any gas for it,” he said while showing it to Ryan. “See these?” He tapped the hood and top of the cab, both of which were covered in what looked like hundreds of small plastic squares embedded under a layer of clear Plexiglas.
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “What are they, solar panels?”
If J.B. was disappointed that Ryan had guessed the answer, he didn’t show it. “That’s right. Even the dent in the side only knocked out a couple of them. They charge up the electric engine quick and store it in batteries under the seats and cargo bed. Even at night, these things have a range of about two hundred miles. It’s exactly what we need to get around out here.”
The truck was the fastest thing they had, next to the windriders. The rest of the convoy consisted of oxen-drawn wagons, complete with canvas covers over the back, that looked straight out of the nineteenth century. The only difference was the rubber tires instead of wooden ones. Doc had even commented with pleasant surprise when he’d first seen them. “Upon my soul, these look familiar. Mayhap I could spell someone once we are under way, as I did know my way around a pair of reins back in the day.” Fortunately, everyone else was too busy tending to tasks to ask him what he meant by that.
Spotting the elders clustered around the lead wagon, Ryan and the rest of his group headed down to let them know what would happen from this point on. Startled stares greeted his battered appearance, but Ryan ignored that and got straight to business.
“All right, since everyone is ready, we’ll head out now and put as much distance between us and the ville as possible. We’ll stop around midday for a couple of hours to eat and rest—no sense traveling during the hottest part of the day—and then push on again until dark.”
He turned to Tully and Latham. “The windriders will be about a half mile out from the main convoy at all times. Stay within sight of us, and we’ll do the same. Either of you see anything odd, you come back and report it, got that? No investigation, no heading over just to get a closer look, just come on back. Once you report what you saw, J.B. and I will make the call as to what, if anything, we do about it.”
He glanced at Ricky and Jak, both of whom were outfitted in a similar fully covering outfit of the windrider pilots. Each young man also carried an M4 carbine. “Since we may encounter more of those body-snatchers at some point, armed riders will go with each of you.”
He eyed Ricky. “You sure you’re up for this after last night?”
The Puerto Rican nodded. “Yes, Ryan, I’m fine.”
“All right.”
Ryan looked at the Latham. “Keep an eye on him, will you?”
“Ryan!” the teenager protested. “I’m fine. Really!”
“So you say. Even so, I’ll feel better if he watches out for you, that’s all.” Ryan looked at everyone. “J.B. and I will take the truck for the first day. Elder Bough, I’d like to have Krysty ride with you. Mildred, you and Doc will be in the last wagon.” He made sure he had everyone’s attention before continuing, “That warning I gave the scouts goes the same for everyone else. If you see anything, sing out and pass the message up the train to us. We’ll decide what to do about it. Above all, do not leave the train, no matter what. I do not care if you see your great-aunt Matilda standing out on the plains waving at you, no one leaves the train. Splitting up will most likely be the death of you and us. Doc? Doc!”
Ryan was about to snap his fingers in front of the old man, who, although he appeared to have been listening, had a peculiar, far-off expression on his face, as if he had been daydreaming. But at his raised voice, Doc blinked and looked at him with utmost attention.
“Eh, what, Ryan? Yes, I was paying attention, Mildred and I are to join those at the rear of the wagon train and watch for hostile Native Ameri...I mean, danger,” he amended upon receiving an elbow in the ribs from Mildred. “I stand ready to do my part, of course.”
His brow furrowed, Ryan stared at him for a few seconds before continuing. “Okay. Are there any questions?”
Everyone looked around at one another, but no one spoke. Then Elder Bough stepped forward. “Elders, let us pray.”
The five leaders bowed their heads, and Bough uttered a brief prayer for swift and peaceful travel through these lands. Even Ryan nodded and said “amen” with the others once he finished.
“Okay, let’s move out,” Ryan said. As the others scattered to their positions, he stopped Mildred and Krysty. “I need a word with both of you.”
“Sure, Ryan, what’s up?” Mildred asked.
“In your opinion, Mildred, has Doc been acting...well, odder than usual?”
The healer mulled his question over for a few seconds. “You do realize the term ‘odder than usual’ is always relative when referring to him, right?”
Ryan’s smile at her answer was brief. “Yeah, but on the whole, we usually know what to expect from him. Over the past day or so I’ve been less and less sure.”
“Well, along with the rest of us, he’s been through a lot,” Krysty pointed out. “There was the whole bug battle—”
“Culminating in you, Jak and him reenacting the Last Stand at the Alamo,” Mildred said, frowning at their confused stares. “It’s a historical thing.... I’ll explain it later.”
“And then we got little sleep, ran away from the rest of those bugs the rest of the night and walked around under the hot sun for a day before almost getting buried alive in a sandstorm.” Krysty glanced at the gaunt old man walking jauntily away with his swordstick. “Frankly, I’m surprised he’s doing as well as he is.”
Mildred shrugged. “On the whole, I agree with Krysty. We all took a beating these past couple of days. You know that sometimes Doc just takes longer to recover than the rest of us. I think this is one of those times, that’s all.”
“All right.” Ryan had also been watching the silver-haired man head down the line of a dozen wagons to the rearmost one. “With J.B. and me in the truck and Ricky and Jak scouting, that leaves you three—” he nodded at the two women “—which sort of means you two will be overseeing the train if there’s trouble. Keep an eye on Doc while you’re doing that?”
“As usual.” Mildred rolled her eyes. “I’m going to need you to spell me at some point, Krysty. I like the old guy well enough, but some days...”
“You take the morning, I’ll take the afternoon,” the flame-haired woman replied. “We’ll handle him, just like always.”
“Yeah.” Mildred cast a wistful glance at the truck. “I better get back there before he gets into some kind of trouble.” She headed toward where Doc was, leaving Krysty and Ryan alone, more or less, in the throng of quickly packing scavvies.
Krysty slipped her arms around him. “I definitely like you better after you’ve cleaned up, lover.”
Ryan grinned. “What, are you saying I wasn’t appealing covered in blood, dirt and slime?”
“Not in the least. By the way, I may have to babysit Doc during the day, but I’m still all yours at night.”
“What the hell are we waiting for, then?” Ryan asked. “Let’s get going!”
* * *
THE FIRST HALF of the day passed uneventfully. The land was still, with the hot sun rising to blaze overhead. There was no wind, and only a few wispy clouds in the magenta sky. Even the large birds, which J.B. had warned Ryan about, weren’t out hunting that day, although they kept a wary eye overhead, just in case. The air was filled with the creak of harness and tack, and an occasional low bellow from an ox as they plodded relentlessly forward, hauling the wagons behind them.
In the newly cleaned truck, Ryan and J.B. rode outrider around the train, each watching all around for any sign of trouble.
J.B. broke the silence in the second hour of their patrol. “Least with all this flat land out here, it�
�d be really hard for anyone to sneak up on you.”
“Yeah,” Ryan murmured. “Unless there’s more of those blasted burrow-bugs around.”
“True.” J.B. glanced behind them at the wagon train slowly trailing the truck. “That plan of yours to find the redoubt.”
Ryan didn’t pause in his methodical sweep of the desolate landscape. “Yeah?”
“I figure it relied on having these kidnappers make a successful hit, and then following them back to wherever they’re holed up.” J.B. looked sidelong at him. “That about right?”
Ryan rubbed his chin. “That was the size of it.”
“Any reason why we didn’t follow through with it last night?”
“Because we weren’t ready,” Ryan replied. “You know as well as I do that something like that takes time to set up proper.”
“I’m well aware of the logistics,” J.B. replied. “That the only reason?”
Ryan grunted. “Only one that counts.”
His oldest friend turned to look back out at the scrub prairie surrounding them. “You’re a good tactician, Ryan. Always have been. Good at adapting to things on the fly, too. Hell, been lots of times where you and I’ve always been on the same page regarding a scenario with hardly a word exchanged, even when it went to hell.”
“So what about it?” Ryan’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out the other man’s point. “Fireblast, J.B., you got something you want to say, just spit it out.”
J.B. paused for a few seconds, as if weighing his next words carefully. “It just seems that you might have been more inclined to run with the plan when it was just the collective members that got grabbed.” He turned back to regard Ryan soberly. “But Ricky getting snatched changed the whole thing, didn’t it?”
“Don’t forget our intel was shit, too. Until last night we didn’t know how they were getting their victims away from the ville either. We wouldn’t have been able to follow them fast enough to do anything.”
“Tires leave tracks, even out here,” J.B. replied quietly. “But you haven’t answered my question yet.”
“Well, shit—course it matters!” Ryan replied. “You’ve gotten a close-up look at what happens when one of those things gets inside someone. Is that what you want for Ricky? Or Doc? Or Mildred?”
“Course not,” J.B. replied. “I don’t want that happening to anyone, least of all anyone I care about. Look, I’m not saying you made the wrong choice. I’d probably have done the same thing, too. Just worried that we may have lost a decent chance to locate their base.”
“And you think that’s worth risking Ricky’s life for?” Ryan asked.
“Nope. I’d prefer to figure out a way to find them without risking anybody.” J.B. sucked air through his teeth. “But I also don’t think we should be so dismissive about these people that we’re supposed to be trying to help either.”
Ryan felt the beginnings of that slow burn of anger he usually got when he thought someone was talking down to him, but he also knew J.B. was the last person who would do that. He took a breath as well, letting it hiss out his nose as he thought. “I don’t think I was exactly dismissive about them. I mean, we got them all back, didn’t we?”
“Yup, and a good thing, too. But let’s face it. If it had been Ricky who had gotten away clean on the roof, you and I would have probably been less concerned about who got taken and more concerned about tracking the takers back to where they live.”
“I don’t know about that,” Ryan said. “The way Jak was itching to jump out there and start blasting away made me wonder who he was more worried about.”
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure he was all for saving Ricky, too,” J.B. said. “Still, didn’t you wonder how they happened to be out there in the first place?”
“Yeah, so much so that I asked Ricky on the way back,” Ryan said. “He told me the good people of Silvertide are making moonshine to trade along the way, and that the girls—plural—they snuck out to meet last night brought along a jarful.”
“Well, if that don’t beat all,” J.B. said. “Truth be told, I was wondering how these people were going to survive on what we’ve seen of their stuff so far. Good for them. You know, people used to make a decent shine with corn liquor and fermented apples back in Cripple Creek. Wonder if theirs even comes close.”
“Let’s finish this little talk before you go swapping recipes,” Ryan said. “I was about to say, ‘any plan that works even halfway is a good plan.’”
“You seriously quoting Trader at me?” J.B. asked.
Ryan grinned. “Yeah. Since it’s still the plan I aim to use, you best let me know if you have a problem with it. I already know it’s going to require some sacrifice—you heard what I told ’em at the vote—but we’ll try to make sure none of the collective gets hurt or killed. But look out there.” He waved his arm at the endless yellow-and-brown land on all sides. “We’re surrounded by who knows how many square miles of land with no chance of searching even a fraction of it in the time we have. The best bet is to make them come to us, and then follow them home.”
“No argument there,” J.B. said. “But if it comes down to a choice between saving some and saving all, we’re still going try to save all if we can, right?”
Ryan nodded. “Right.”
“Figured as much.” With that, the Armorer and Ryan both returned to watching the landscape for any sign of trouble. After a few moments, J.B. broke the silence again. “I just hope we aren’t biting off more than we can chew.”
Ryan grunted. “Hey, they bleed and they die. There’s nothing else we have to know about them.”
“Yeah, except that we’re not trying to kill all of them, remember?” J.B. asked.
“Yeah, I know—fireblast, you’re getting to be more and more like an old woman every day, J.B.”
“Just trying to make sure we all come through this in one piece, that’s all,” J.B. grumped as he looked back out the window. “I said this could be dangerous, that I didn’t want to get mixed up in anything like Heaven Falls again, yet here we are.”
“I know. Look, that wasn’t right for me to say, okay?” Ryan answered. “But like we all agreed, we’re helping these people, and once we get a handle on where the redoubt is, we’ll clean it up, and that’ll be that.”
“If you say so, Ryan,” J.B. replied in a tone that made it clear he didn’t agree with the other man’s simple assessment at all.
“Of course it will be,” Ryan said. “You’ll see.” Just then his bruised cheekbone flared with pain, and he opened and closed his jaw, trying not to wince. “It’ll be fine.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Just before the hottest part of the day, one of the windriders came back to the lead wagon. Ryan spotted the sail as they came up on the right side of the train while finishing their latest pass.
He pulled up alongside the lead wagon as Elder Bough reined his team to a stop. One of his family members stood on the back of his wagon and waved a red flag, signaling that the entire train was to halt. The land sailer swerved to a stop in front of both of them, and Ricky got out and ran over.
“Got a strange pit ahead, thought you might want to check it out.”
“Strange how?” J.B. asked.
“It’s not naturally made and looks like something dug it,” Ricky replied.
Ryan and J.B. exchanged a glance. “Let’s go take a look.”
They followed Latham’s sailer out about a half mile away from the main convoy, braking to a stop when the sailer did again. At first glance, Ryan couldn’t see anything different about the landscape. “So where is it?”
“Go out about ten more steps and you’ll be standing over the middle of it,” Latham said as he pulled a fire-hardened spear from his vehicle. “Hang on.” He walked over to a small hole in the ground. “Here’s how we found it.
Stopped for a piss break, and the wheel broke through the crust. Lucky we weren’t over the middle of it, or we would have been screwed.” He thrust the pole into the ground, sinking it up to his hand, and leaving only two or three feet above the surface. “It’s big, like a sinkhole.”
“What makes you two think it isn’t a sinkhole?” Ryan asked.
“Too round and regular, for one thing,” Latham replied. “It covers about a thirty-foot diameter and is almost a perfect circle. Nature’s good, but not that good. Something dug this out.”
“Think it’s still there?” J.B. asked while casually slipping his shotgun off his shoulder.
“Can’t tell, but I’m not going down there to find out either,” Latham said. “Would’ve figured those herds of antelope runnin’ all over woulda tripped this one already, but if they haven’t yet, whatever’s down there might have starved to death.”
“Or it’s hibernating,” J.B. said. “Heard of some frogs down in Mex way that can live for more than a year without eating or some shit.”
“Well, mark it with some stakes, and we’ll go back and tell the others to go around it,” Ryan said. “Good eyes.”
Latham shrugged. “More like dumb luck. If the wheel hadn’t gone down, we never woulda known it was there. But thanks anyway.”
“Stay here until the train passes, and then you can catch up with us after it goes by,” Ryan said.
They headed back to the caravan and explained the situation to Elder Bough. “The important thing will be for everyone else to follow the lead wagon as carefully as possible,” Ryan said.
Bough then dispatched two of his teenage children with a precise message for the rest of the train to follow their lead exactly. When the children returned, Bough gave the signal to move out, and they resumed their trek.
