“I see him,” I said. “Looks like we’re not exactly dealing with a professional.”
“I believe you are correct.”
“Raider?”
The Hawk nodded. “He has the look.”
As the man drew closer, I realized my friend was right. The skin of his face was dark bronze, but not from ethnicity. The eyes were too blue for that, indicating a man who spent his life mostly outdoors. The beard and hair were long, shaggy, and unkempt. Judging by the way he absently scratched at it, he probably had lice. The life of a marauder is hard, dangerous, and unsanitary. More of them die from disease than from bullets. But for all that, the thing that really gave him away was his expression. It was hard, cruel, and empty. The face of a man for whom killing was as easy as breathing.
“Let’s go,” I said.
*****
After the courier had talked to Redstone and passed the old man a note, Great Hawk and I tailed him to a cheap inn near the south gate. I smiled when I saw it. I knew the owner. He was a handsome fellow. Highly intelligent. Hell of a business man. He gave me a little wink every morning when I saw him in the mirror. Quite the charmer, I don’t mind saying.
The inn had been built post-Outbreak and was constructed mostly of wood. While not ornate, it was sturdy, the lumber well-seasoned, and the carpentry done by competent tradesmen. There was a bar inside that served moonshine, God-awful beer, and a limited menu of seasonal foods. It was the kind of place a small-time merchant and his hired help could get a clean room for a few nights and not lose all their profits in the exchange.
There had been a shortage of places like this a few years ago, which was why I had decided to buy the land it was on and hire builders. And like most of my investments, it had more than paid for itself since the doors had opened.
Another benefit of owning the establishment was the fact I had supervised every aspect of its construction, and could draw the layout with my eyes closed.
The Hawk and I waited outside until the man went in. We waited three minutes before circling around back to the kitchen entrance. The door was unlocked, as it usually was during the day, and a startled crew of cooks looked up at us when we entered.
“Hey, you can’t-” a young man began to say, but an older, balding chef held up a hand to silence him.
“Good morning, Mr. Riordan. We weren’t expecting you.”
I nodded to him. His name was Art Mulley. He had owned a successful bar-b-que joint in Kansas City before the Outbreak. Now, he made braised goat and grilled chicken for travelers passing through the merchant district, and he was damned good at it.
“Hey, Art,” I said. “The manager around?”
“Last I saw him, he was in his office.”
“Who’s working the front desk?”
“New girl. Name’s Lydia.”
I nodded. “Find the manager for me. Tell him I’m here, and tell him to stay out of the way.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks.”
The Hawk and I exited the kitchen into the common room. It was big and square and full of handmade wooden furniture. There were tables and chairs and a large fireplace against the south wall. A well-polished bar lined the opposite side, replete with racks of liquor bottles and a large mirror. The reception area stood near the front door, consisting of a simple desk with a pegboard full of keys behind it. Only a few of the keys were missing, telling me business was slow at the moment. The bartender saw me and waved. I waved back. He was polishing glasses and chatting with a pair of men who had the lean, hardened look of caravan guards. The two men were relaxed and seemed to be enjoying a chance to eat a quiet lunch somewhere they didn’t have to worry about being on the menu themselves.
“Probably not with the courier,” I said, nodding to the hired guns.
“Probably not,” Great Hawk said.
We approached the receptionist. She looked up, got to her feet, and pasted on a smile. She was maybe twenty years old, if that, and fairly pretty. The smile was nice, but the eyes were dagger-sharp, displaying the vigilant wariness one saw in Outbreak survivors who’d had a hard time of things before finding safety. I smiled back at her.
“You’re Lydia, right?”
The smile faltered a bit. “Yes sir. How can I help you?”
“I’m Eric Riordan. Maybe you’ve heard of me.”
There was a second of confusion, then recognition dawned.
“Oh, yes sir. Sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”
I waved a hand. “No problem. We haven’t met. Listen, a man just came in a few minutes ago. About my height, dark hair, dressed like a laborer. Did you see him?”
A nod. “I did. He checked in yesterday.”
“You check him in?”
“Yes.”
“What room is he staying in?”
There was a moment of hesitation. “Um…room fourteen.”
“I need the key to his room.”
The smile faded. “Can I ask why?”
“Better if you don’t know, Lydia.”
She looked back and forth between me and the Hawk. “Is there going to be trouble? I have to be honest with you, I came here to get away from that kind of thing. If something bad is about to happen, I don’t want any part of it.”
I had to admire her courage. It was tough to find a good job in this town, and she had one of the better ones. A man with less scruples might have shown her the door for asking too many questions. But I had done hard time in the wastelands myself, and I knew how awful things could be out there. People came to Hollow Rock because they wanted to live in peace. And from the look of her, Lydia had seen enough violence to know when danger was afoot.
“Lydia, the man we’re after is a criminal. He’s done some bad things, and it’s not the kind of situation the law is equipped to handle.”
“Why not?”
“Because the wrong people could get hurt if the sheriff gets involved. We’re trying to keep that from happening.”
Another pause. Finally, she reached below the desk and retrieved the spare key from a lockbox. I took it and thanked her.
“I hope I don’t regret this,” she said.
“Do you know the man we’re after?”
“No.”
“Never seen him before?”
“Not before yesterday.”
“Good. Because if you’re involved with him in any way, Lydia, that’s going to be a problem for you.”
She swallowed, and the defiance in her expression grew brittle. “Look, I have no idea what this is about. I never met that guy before. Whatever he’s done, I had nothing to do with it.”
I nodded slowly. “All right, then. Just make sure this conversation stays between the three of us, and no further. Am I clear?”
She nodded.
“Don’t take this as a threat, Lydia, because it’s not. But the thing is, I pretty much own this town. If you talk, I’ll hear about it. And the next time we speak, I might just be telling you how you got an innocent person killed.”
Now she looked nervous. “Listen, I don’t want any trouble.”
“And you won’t get any from me. But I need you to understand the stakes. A person’s life is in danger, and my friend and I are trying to help them. So I need you to stay quiet about this, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry if any of this scares you, Lydia. Honestly, it scares me too. But it is a very serious matter, and I would appreciate it if you took it as seriously as we do.”
Lydia held up her hands. “I’m not saying a thing. Like you said, it’s better if I don’t know.”
“Thanks again.”
The Hawk led the way toward the staircase. “Do you think she will talk?” he said quietly.
“I hope not. Either way, we need to work fast.”
“Agreed.”
SEVEN
I stopped at the head of the staircase and leaned against the wall. From where I stood, I could see the whole interior of the inn. Lydia was back on h
er stool, studiously ignoring anything above eye level. The bartender was laughing at something one of the caravan guards had said. The guards, for their part, had finished their lunch and ordered a couple of beers. While I appreciated their business, I honestly did not know how they could stomach the stuff. I guess people can acquire a taste for anything if they consume enough of it.
While I waited, the Hawk padded silently down the hall. When he reached room fourteen, he stopped and slowly put his ear to the door. After a few seconds, he looked at me and motioned me forward. When I reached him, he drew a Beretta pistol from behind his back, took a knee, and aimed at the door. I stayed clear of the entryway and turned the key in the lock. As soon as it clicked, I threw the door open, drew my Glock, and stood aside as Great Hawk went through the entrance. The moment he was clear I followed closely on his heels, careful to keep my weapon pointed away from him.
Room entries are no fun. If there is someone waiting on the other side of a door with a gun at the ready, you are going to get shot. Period.
Many years ago, when my friend Gabriel Garrett was training me to be a gunfighter, he told me what cops and soldiers used to call the area immediately within doorways—The Fatal Funnel of Fire. The name made sense. Doorways are choke points, and choke points are a great place to hang out if you have a burning desire to sustain a gunshot wound.
In our case, however, nobody got shot. Great Hawk moved swiftly into the room, spotted the raider sitting on the bed, and pointed his Beretta at the man’s head.
“Do not move,” he said firmly.
The man froze, his face a mask of surprise.
“What the hell-”
“Shut up,” Great Hawk said.
The man’s mouth clamped shut.
I shut the door, locked it, and then moved so that Great Hawk and I had the man in a crossfire. He sat leaning over on the bed, one of his boots on the floor, the other halfway off his foot.
“Put your hands in the air,” I said.
The man complied. “Listen, whatever this is about-”
“I told you to shut up,” Great Hawk said. “Speak again and I will shoot you in the knee.”
He shifted his gun toward the man’s leg for emphasis. The raider looked like he wanted to say something else, but thought better of it.
I holstered my weapon, took a couple of thick zip ties from my coat, and wrenched the raider’s arms behind his back. Once his hands were immobilized, I ripped his remaining boot off, moved him roughly to a chair, sat him down, made him cross his feet, and zip-tied his ankles together. Great Hawk kept his gun steady on the man’s head the entire time.
I sat down on the bed. Great Hawk remained standing, his weapon unwavering in his grip. The man looked back and forth between us, the confusion on his face quickly being replaced by fear.
“I’m going to ask you some questions,” I said. “And you’re going to answer them truthfully. Do you understand?”
The man looked pointedly at Great Hawk, and then back at me.
“It’s okay. You can talk now. But if you call for help, you’re going to die.”
He took a shaky breath. “What’s going on? Why are you doing this to me? What do you want?”
I shook my head and waved a finger at him. “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly why we’re here. Where are they keeping her?”
A few seconds passed. The raider did not have much of a poker face. He briefly considered lying, then proceeded straight to the bargaining phase.
“If I tell you, how do I know you won’t kill me?
I smiled pleasantly. “You don’t. But if anything happens to that girl, we will definitely kill you. And it will be slow, and it will hurt. A lot. Now answer the question.”
He looked down and shook his head. His breathing had become rapid and shallow.
“You’re panicking,” I said. “I get it. You’re running with some very bad people, and if you talk, you’re worried about what they’ll do to you. But here’s the thing. They’re not here right now. We are. So instead of worrying about them, you need to be worried about us.”
The man looked at me. He was scared, but he also knew he was caught. Trapped. Nowhere to run, and no one coming to help him. He took a trembling breath and nodded.
“Okay. I’ll tell you.”
I twirled a finger in the air. “I’m waiting.”
He told us. When he was finished, the Hawk looked at me.
“This will not be easy.”
“When is it ever?”
I stood up and gestured at the raider. “Keep an eye on this piece of shit. Gag him. If he tries anything, kill him. I’ll be back shortly.”
“Where are you going?”
“We can’t just leave him here. We’ll need some help keeping him on ice until this matter is resolved.”
The Hawk nodded in understanding. “Do not be long.”
“I’ll do my best.”
*****
Deputy Sarah Glover walked into the room ahead of me. I followed behind and closed the door. Sarah looked around and hooked her thumbs on her gun belt.
“Well isn’t this just great,” she said.
“That’s a very dangerous man,” I said. “Be careful around him. The asshole zip-tied to the chair is pretty bad too.”
Great Hawk shook his head. “Hilarious.”
“You done?” Sarah said.
“Yes.”
She stepped closer to the raider. The man’s gaze had transitioned from terrified to hopeful. The sight of a cop in uniform has that effect on people. If he knew who he was dealing with, I doubt he would have felt quite so comforted.
“And what, exactly, am I supposed to do with him?”
“I have a warehouse on the north side of town. We can keep him there until Hawk and I find the girl. I’ll need you along to run interference in case we get stopped. Once he’s locked up, we’ll have some of our security contractors keep an eye on him until this is over. All you have to do is keep your coworkers off our scent.”
Sarah looked up at me. “I can help you, Eric.”
“You are helping me.”
“You know what I mean.”
I shook my head. “We can’t risk it. This guy says he’s the only one in town from his group, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t others. Even if he is telling the truth, they might have sent spotters without telling him. It’s what I would do. And if they get a whiff of the law, it’s pretty likely they’ll report back before Lincoln and I can get ahead of them.”
Sarah let out a breath. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. How are we getting him out of here?”
“I’ll go rent a carriage. We can load him in around back.”
“People will see us. They might talk.”
“He’ll be untied,” I said. “Great Hawk will be right behind him.” I pointed a finger at the raider. “Do yourself a favor, pal. Don’t try anything stupid. My friend here would like nothing better than to break you into little pieces. I wouldn’t give him an excuse if I were you.”
The man looked at Great Hawk. The Hawk stared back like a snake watching a mouse.
“You going to behave yourself?”
The man nodded, still staring at the Hawk.
I turned to Sarah. “You and I will take a separate carriage and follow behind. I’ve already arranged to have a couple of our guys meet us at the warehouse. Once he’s inside, you take off. Sound okay to you?”
“Not really,” Sarah said. “But I don’t have a better idea.”
“All right then. Let’s get this done.”
EIGHT
Two hours later, Great Hawk and I were in the basement of the general store. An electric light burned overhead, illuminating an impressive array of weapons, ammunition, and equipment laid out on a steel table in the center of the room. I picked up a magazine and began loading .45 caliber cartridges into it. Across from me, the Hawk was doing the same.
I grumbled under my breath as I worked. Forty-five caliber ammo is rare and expensive,
and more than a few fortunes have been made by salvagers who discovered large caches of it. That said, the rounds we were using were subsonic hollow-points that worked very well in suppressed pistols.
“Redstone’s farm better pay off,” I said. “This op is getting expensive.”
The Hawk stopped what he was doing and glared at me. “An innocent girl is in danger.”
“Yes, I’m aware. Doesn’t mean I can’t complain about how much saving her is going to cost me.”
Great Hawk shook his head. “Well, if you must complain, get it out of your system now. Once we go operational, silence will be imperative.”
I finished loading my magazine, set it down, and picked up an M-4. After separating the upper and lower receivers, I removed the bolt carrier group and began taking it apart so I could clean and oil it.
“I still say we should bring some help,” I said. “What about Sykes and Broward? Wouldn’t hurt to have a couple of Rangers along with us.”
Great Hawk glanced up. “I believe I may have a better idea.”
I frowned at him. “Like what?”
“I know a couple of Runners who are familiar with the area where Emilia is being kept. They will be more useful than a couple of hired guns.”
My hands stopped. Hearing Great Hawk say her name made the situation more visceral. I had been trying to avoid that, referring to her simply as ‘the girl’, but she wasn’t just a noun. She was a human being. And right now, she was probably terrified, traumatized, and hoping against hope someone would come along and save her. I imagined how I might feel if Allison were in the same situation and felt a dark, burning cold spread through me.
“Point taken.”
Surviving The Dead (Short Story): Quick Killer & The Iceman Page 3
