The Day After Never - Purgatory Road (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 2) by Russell Blake
Authors: Russell Blake
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Nugget and used her good arm to take Eve from Ruby’s arms. When Eve was seated, Ruby gave Jax a pat, and he flicked his tail. “All right, big boy, maybe we’ll stick to dry land for a while. That work for you?” The mule greeted her question with stoic indifference, and she remounted the mule and directed him up the bank.
Ruby didn’t complain, but her leg was throbbing from where she’d struck a stone during the rescue, and her back burned in protest from the unexpected exertion. She was reminded again that she wasn’t a young woman any longer, but forced herself to shrug off the pain – she’d been through worse and was still standing, and if a few bruises and bumps were thrown her way, she’d take them in stride. After all, she had to be alive to feel pain, and most she knew no longer were. In that light, anything but death’s hand on her shoulder was reason for optimism, she reasoned, and goaded Jax to greater speed. She was anxious to get away from the spot, unwilling to assume that their pursuers hadn’t heard Sierra’s yells.
The older woman was again struck by how composed Eve was. Even after her dunking, she hadn’t cried and had recovered quickly without any drama.
“Thanks, Ruby. You saved her life,” Sierra said quietly.
“Over and done with,” Ruby said in a whisper. “Let’s keep it down while we ride, okay? Don’t want to attract any more attention than we already have.”
“Of course. Sorry,” Sierra said, and fell silent.
Ruby didn’t respond, preferring to keep her own counsel rather than continue to engage. There was no point reprimanding Sierra for her cries and not much to be done about it other than to continue making their trail as difficult and convoluted to follow as possible, and pray that circumstances worked in their favor.
Ruby rocked side to side with the mule’s stride, lost in thought as Nugget’s hooves on the gentle slope of the gravel bank accompanied Jax’s faster gait, the mule’s short legs working like small pistons as they pressed into the desert night.
Chapter 16
Lucas paused on the trail that led toward the root cellar and tilted his head as he listened. An otherworldly baying drifted to him on the light breeze, and Tango stamped a restless hoof. Lucas’s eyes narrowed at the sound and he dismounted. Another howl confirmed the need for caution, and he led the big horse to a grove of saplings and tied him to one. After giving Tango some water, Lucas set off at a jog, night vision scope activated on his M4, the rifle held at present arms.
When he arrived at the tree line, he stopped and surveyed the area by the root cellar through his NV scope. The horses and riders were easy to spot, as were the dogs – the source of the howls. He cursed under his breath as he watched, and slowly backed away when he was sure that the group hadn’t taken the women captive; the obvious hunt for their trail confirmed that they’d somehow escaped.
He debated attacking the gunmen; the element of surprise was on his side and the newly acquired grenade launcher made a great leveler, but he discarded the option. It would be stupid given that he didn’t know how large the total force was, and if he wasn’t successful, it would leave the women at the mercy of the cartel without him to defend them.
The other possibility was to shoot the dogs, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Besides, it was easier said than done, with a force of several dozen men firing at him and giving chase.
No, his best option – which he didn’t kid himself was a great one – was to ride to the rendezvous.
Which meant that he was now in a race to reach them before the gunmen did. The only bright spot in the scenario was that he knew where the women had gone – a considerable advantage that meant he could easily beat their pursuers to the punch. It would mean more night riding, but given that he knew where most of the bad guys in the area now were, the risk seemed slight.
He
Ruby didn’t complain, but her leg was throbbing from where she’d struck a stone during the rescue, and her back burned in protest from the unexpected exertion. She was reminded again that she wasn’t a young woman any longer, but forced herself to shrug off the pain – she’d been through worse and was still standing, and if a few bruises and bumps were thrown her way, she’d take them in stride. After all, she had to be alive to feel pain, and most she knew no longer were. In that light, anything but death’s hand on her shoulder was reason for optimism, she reasoned, and goaded Jax to greater speed. She was anxious to get away from the spot, unwilling to assume that their pursuers hadn’t heard Sierra’s yells.
The older woman was again struck by how composed Eve was. Even after her dunking, she hadn’t cried and had recovered quickly without any drama.
“Thanks, Ruby. You saved her life,” Sierra said quietly.
“Over and done with,” Ruby said in a whisper. “Let’s keep it down while we ride, okay? Don’t want to attract any more attention than we already have.”
“Of course. Sorry,” Sierra said, and fell silent.
Ruby didn’t respond, preferring to keep her own counsel rather than continue to engage. There was no point reprimanding Sierra for her cries and not much to be done about it other than to continue making their trail as difficult and convoluted to follow as possible, and pray that circumstances worked in their favor.
Ruby rocked side to side with the mule’s stride, lost in thought as Nugget’s hooves on the gentle slope of the gravel bank accompanied Jax’s faster gait, the mule’s short legs working like small pistons as they pressed into the desert night.
Chapter 16
Lucas paused on the trail that led toward the root cellar and tilted his head as he listened. An otherworldly baying drifted to him on the light breeze, and Tango stamped a restless hoof. Lucas’s eyes narrowed at the sound and he dismounted. Another howl confirmed the need for caution, and he led the big horse to a grove of saplings and tied him to one. After giving Tango some water, Lucas set off at a jog, night vision scope activated on his M4, the rifle held at present arms.
When he arrived at the tree line, he stopped and surveyed the area by the root cellar through his NV scope. The horses and riders were easy to spot, as were the dogs – the source of the howls. He cursed under his breath as he watched, and slowly backed away when he was sure that the group hadn’t taken the women captive; the obvious hunt for their trail confirmed that they’d somehow escaped.
He debated attacking the gunmen; the element of surprise was on his side and the newly acquired grenade launcher made a great leveler, but he discarded the option. It would be stupid given that he didn’t know how large the total force was, and if he wasn’t successful, it would leave the women at the mercy of the cartel without him to defend them.
The other possibility was to shoot the dogs, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Besides, it was easier said than done, with a force of several dozen men firing at him and giving chase.
No, his best option – which he didn’t kid himself was a great one – was to ride to the rendezvous.
Which meant that he was now in a race to reach them before the gunmen did. The only bright spot in the scenario was that he knew where the women had gone – a considerable advantage that meant he could easily beat their pursuers to the punch. It would mean more night riding, but given that he knew where most of the bad guys in the area now were, the risk seemed slight.
He
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