The Day After Never - Covenant (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 3) by Russell Blake Page B
Authors: Russell Blake
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going?”
“They know everything. Now hurry up. They’re after us.”
“What? How?”
“You heard him,” Lucas said. “I had to kill three men to get him here.”
Steven nodded slowly. “Password’s Goldilocks. Good through Saturday.”
“Goldilocks,” Colt repeated.
“You going to be okay?” Steven asked.
Colt sighed. “Hope so.”
Lucas remounted Tango and they rode away, leaving Steven to stare at their backs as they vanished into the darkness.
Forty-five minutes later, after they’d dodged two patrols, they arrived at the edge of town. Lucas swept the surroundings with his night vision scope and nodded. “I don’t see anyone.”
“That’s a lucky break.”
“It is. But we need to break camp and move.” Lucas looked at Colt. “How you feeling?”
“Leg still hurts like a bitch. But I’m not as feverish.”
Lucas didn’t comment, though it was a good sign. “You sure about that Steven character?”
“Absolutely. He’s been an asset for three years. He keeps an eye on the town and radios in any developments.”
“So Shangri-La isn’t far?”
“I wouldn’t say that. We’ll still be riding a few more days.”
“You still can’t tell me where it is?”
“Sorry. Not my decision to make.”
Lucas rubbed a hand over the dusting of beard on his chin. “I understand. Can you at least tell me if there’s water along the way?”
“We won’t have any problems in that regard.”
They arrived at the camp, and Lucas offered a terse report. Sierra groaned when he told everyone to pack up, but she followed his instructions, and in a quarter of an hour they were ready to ride. Colt took the lead, sticking to the bank of the Rio Grande as its muddy current rushed past.
Halfway through their trip a patrol showed itself ahead, and they spent a tense twenty minutes hunkered down in the brush as the men relieved themselves in the river and passed a bottle around. Only once the militia had moved on did Lucas dare lead them beyond that point. The sound of an occasional hoot from one of the bars along the river reached them across the water, but the only living thing they saw as they reached the northern edge of town was a single night fisherman in a wooden skiff swaying in the current, his wooden rowboat anchored as he fished.
They followed the river north past the city, and five hours later stopped for what remained of the night. The city was now only a dark blemish on the distant horizon, and the water burbled a lullaby for their few hours of restive sleep.
Chapter 19
It was late afternoon when Sammy stopped his horse and pointed out the buildings at the base of a ridge of mountains.
“Albuquerque,” he announced.
Cano nodded. “If we’re lucky, they’ll still be here. After that many days of hard riding with an injured man, they’re probably resting and restocking.”
Luis held his tongue. If it were up to him, he’d have skipped the town altogether and left the snake-bit man to his fate. Why Cano believed they would take the risk of going into Albuquerque, he didn’t know, but he’d been right about many things so far, so Luis didn’t voice his thoughts.
“This is where I leave you,” Sammy said.
Sammy spun his horse around and retraced his steps down the trail, leaving them to make their way into town by themselves. Cano led the procession, and the sun was low in the western sky by the time they entered the city limits.
“Where to?” Luis asked as they rode down a main artery.
“Magnus gave me the name of a bar. We organized a welcoming committee for our friends through the owner. He’ll be able to tell us whether the trap worked.”
Luis fell silent. Cano hadn’t shared anything with him beyond that Magnus would hire some locals to watch for their quarry’s arrival. The Crew had no reach this far from its stronghold, but it had several like-minded confederates who facilitated trade between Lubbock and Albuquerque and who would do anything for a price.
“They know everything. Now hurry up. They’re after us.”
“What? How?”
“You heard him,” Lucas said. “I had to kill three men to get him here.”
Steven nodded slowly. “Password’s Goldilocks. Good through Saturday.”
“Goldilocks,” Colt repeated.
“You going to be okay?” Steven asked.
Colt sighed. “Hope so.”
Lucas remounted Tango and they rode away, leaving Steven to stare at their backs as they vanished into the darkness.
Forty-five minutes later, after they’d dodged two patrols, they arrived at the edge of town. Lucas swept the surroundings with his night vision scope and nodded. “I don’t see anyone.”
“That’s a lucky break.”
“It is. But we need to break camp and move.” Lucas looked at Colt. “How you feeling?”
“Leg still hurts like a bitch. But I’m not as feverish.”
Lucas didn’t comment, though it was a good sign. “You sure about that Steven character?”
“Absolutely. He’s been an asset for three years. He keeps an eye on the town and radios in any developments.”
“So Shangri-La isn’t far?”
“I wouldn’t say that. We’ll still be riding a few more days.”
“You still can’t tell me where it is?”
“Sorry. Not my decision to make.”
Lucas rubbed a hand over the dusting of beard on his chin. “I understand. Can you at least tell me if there’s water along the way?”
“We won’t have any problems in that regard.”
They arrived at the camp, and Lucas offered a terse report. Sierra groaned when he told everyone to pack up, but she followed his instructions, and in a quarter of an hour they were ready to ride. Colt took the lead, sticking to the bank of the Rio Grande as its muddy current rushed past.
Halfway through their trip a patrol showed itself ahead, and they spent a tense twenty minutes hunkered down in the brush as the men relieved themselves in the river and passed a bottle around. Only once the militia had moved on did Lucas dare lead them beyond that point. The sound of an occasional hoot from one of the bars along the river reached them across the water, but the only living thing they saw as they reached the northern edge of town was a single night fisherman in a wooden skiff swaying in the current, his wooden rowboat anchored as he fished.
They followed the river north past the city, and five hours later stopped for what remained of the night. The city was now only a dark blemish on the distant horizon, and the water burbled a lullaby for their few hours of restive sleep.
Chapter 19
It was late afternoon when Sammy stopped his horse and pointed out the buildings at the base of a ridge of mountains.
“Albuquerque,” he announced.
Cano nodded. “If we’re lucky, they’ll still be here. After that many days of hard riding with an injured man, they’re probably resting and restocking.”
Luis held his tongue. If it were up to him, he’d have skipped the town altogether and left the snake-bit man to his fate. Why Cano believed they would take the risk of going into Albuquerque, he didn’t know, but he’d been right about many things so far, so Luis didn’t voice his thoughts.
“This is where I leave you,” Sammy said.
Sammy spun his horse around and retraced his steps down the trail, leaving them to make their way into town by themselves. Cano led the procession, and the sun was low in the western sky by the time they entered the city limits.
“Where to?” Luis asked as they rode down a main artery.
“Magnus gave me the name of a bar. We organized a welcoming committee for our friends through the owner. He’ll be able to tell us whether the trap worked.”
Luis fell silent. Cano hadn’t shared anything with him beyond that Magnus would hire some locals to watch for their quarry’s arrival. The Crew had no reach this far from its stronghold, but it had several like-minded confederates who facilitated trade between Lubbock and Albuquerque and who would do anything for a price.
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