Ghostwalkers by Jonathan Maberry

God’s honest truth.”
    They stood and studied each other, and Grey felt as if something shifted between them. Looks Away had an almost comical way of speaking, which Grey figured was more than half put-on, but there was nothing funny about the keen intelligence in the man’s eyes. They were hard, cold, and sharp as knifepoints. Grey would not have wanted to stare into those eyes on a bad day if he didn’t have a well-oiled gun within grabbing distance.
    â€œWell then,” said Looks Away.
    He watched a slow smile spread across the Sioux’s face. It looked genuine, and the man appeared to be relieved. Probably not so much at what Grey had said in answer to those questions, but at whatever Looks Away had seen in Grey’s eyes.
    And Grey found himself making a similar decision about the strange Sioux renegade.
    The sun beat down on them and the horses blew and stamped.
    â€œIf I’ve offered offense, my friend,” he said, “then please allow me to apologize. I would take it as a kindness and a pleasure if you accompanied me on my little mission. I will, in fact, pay you for your services and would value both your protection and your company. Here’s my hand upon it.”
    Grey couldn’t help but return the smile. “You don’t even know how much it costs to hire me.”
    â€œAre you expensive?”
    â€œI’m a little saddle-worn but I’m not bargain counter.”
    â€œThen by all means state me a price.”
    Grey did and the Sioux’s smile flickered. “Dear me, you think very highly of your skills.”
    â€œOthers have in the past. I’m giving you my last rate with only a five percent increase.”
    â€œAh,” said Looks Away. “Well … done and done.”
    â€œAll right then.”
    Neither of them moved. Not until the moment had stretched between them. However it was Looks Away who broke the spell and held out his hand. Still smiling, Grey took his hand and shook it. Before he let it go, he asked a question.
    â€œWhat would you have done if you didn’t like my answers to your questions?”
    â€œShot you, I suppose.”
    â€œWhat makes you think you can outdraw me?” asked Grey.
    â€œOh, I have no doubt you’re a faster draw than me.”
    â€œThen—?”
    â€œI anticipated a moment like this, so I took the liberty of emptying your pistol while you were sleeping last night.”
    Grey’s smile vanished and he whipped the pistol out of its holster, pivoted and fired three quick shots at the mound of skulls. The bones exploded as heavy caliber bullets smashed through them.
    Thomas Looks Away shrieked. Very high and very loud.
    The echoes of the gunshots rolled outward like slow thunder and faded into the desert shimmer.
    â€œAnd I reloaded them this morning, you mother-humping son of a whore,” said Grey.
    Looks away took several awkward steps and then sat down heavily on the sand. “By the Queen’s garters!” he gasped.
    Grey opened the cylinder, dumped the three spent casings, and thumbed fresh rounds into the chambers. Then he slid the pistol into his holster.
    â€œAnd that,” he said quietly, “is why you’re paying the extra five percent.”
    He turned and walked back to his horse.

 
    Chapter Twenty
    They entered into the broken lands of California and rode into the hills. As they climbed away from the desert floor they left the relentless brutality of the Mojave behind and found small surcease in the shadows beneath green trees. All around them, though, were remnants of what had been and hints of the new realities. Some of the most ancient trees had cracked and fallen, their roots torn by the devastating quakes and aftershocks of the Great Quake of ‘68. There were deep, crooked cracks torn like ragged wounds through the rocks. Mountains had been split apart. Massive spears of rock thrust up through the dirt. Forest fires had