Текст книги "Day One"

Автор книги: Summer Lane

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Chapter Six

“Samuel,” Elle said. “How much longer?”

“It will take a few hours, miss,” he replied. His fine black hair was streaked with gray. Powdery ash was smeared across the sleeves of his charcoal-colored suit. Elle sat in the backseat of the Mercedes, staring out the window. They were quite a distance from the city, and she could see the outline of the Capitol Records Building from their vantage point on the hill.

“But Aunt and Uncle aren’t that far—”

“We’ve got to be careful, Elle,” Samuel interrupted. His words were harsh, clipped. “There are a lot of people who’d like to have a working car, and they’ll gladly take it from us if given the chance.”

Elle swallowed a nervous lump in her throat.

Her luggage was piled in the backseat. A box of books. A suitcase full of clothes and shoes. Her touch tablets and cellphone were at home, along with the rest of computerized technology. Nothing worked anymore. It was all gone.

“You’re going back for Mom, right?” Elle asked.

“Of course.”

The apartment complexes in Santa Monica stood square and white against the late evening sky. The penthouse level of the largest building suddenly exploded, sending a burst of fire into the air, scattering shards of glass and ashes onto the street below.

The skyline of Los Angeles emitted an orange, fiery glow. Bonfires raged in the middle of boulevards. The tips of apartment buildings were bathed in flames. The whole city appeared to be on fire. There was screaming and yelling. The white noise of the busy city had been replaced with the sounds of total chaos.

“Samuel,” Elle whispered. “I don’t think you’ll be able to make it back into the city to get Mom.”

Samuel kept his eyes on the road.

He said nothing.

Elle touched Bravo’s head, lightly scratching him behind the ears. His fur was soft. She smiled. She had made a small fire in the middle of the room. There was a small hole in the ceiling for the smoke, and the wind carried it away.

The man still lay on the floor, unconscious. Elle guessed that he was in a coma. She had cleaned his wounds, but there was nothing more that she could do.

Elle sat down. The dog was almost as big as she was. He wore a faded collar. He was silent, pensive. Guarding the man by keeping a watchful eye on Elle.

“How long have you been here?” she whispered. “Hmm? You’re a good boy.”

She patted his head. He didn’t move. He didn’t wag his tail. He just was.

Nathan was young. Maybe twenty-five or thirty years old. Elle leaned forward and checked his pulse. Still weak. She frowned. Even in the dim firelight, his complexion was completely white.

Elle sighed. Too bad the dog couldn’t talk.

“So, Bravo,” she whispered. “You hungry?”

She opened her backpack and divided an energy bar in half. The dog sniffed it hesitantly at first, then devoured the entire thing in just a couple of bites. Elle sighed.

She needed to get moving. Jay, Georgia and Flash could be dead by now.

Her conscience whispered, You can only do one thing at a time, right?

Right.

Time ticked by. Elle wasn’t expecting Nathan to live – not with the wounds he had – but she still felt a stab of bitter disappointment. She enjoyed solitude, true… but true companionship might have been nice, if only for a few days.

Uneasy and upset, Elle walked outside, standing on the rotting porch. She had wasted enough time staring at the unconscious form of Nathan, willing him to awaken. She hated to see people die like this – she hated seeing it happen.

Elle crossed her arms over her chest. Dusk was setting in. She wanted to search the rest of the mining camp for food or supplies. It was worth a shot, anyway. She began walking, her katana on her back.

“Hey,” she said, suddenly halting.

She sensed a presence. She turned around, slowly facing Nathan’s dog, Bravo. He paused, tilting his head, gauging her reaction.

“Um.” She relaxed a little. “What do you want?”

His dark eyes sparkled.

I want to come with you.

Elle raised an eyebrow. She took one step backward, then two. He walked forward and stopped when she did. Elle’s lips curved into a soft smile.

“Okay, come on,” she said.

She turned and began walking. In a few seconds, she felt the steady, easy trot of Bravo beside her. He was very quiet, but there was something about the dog that smelled like danger.

“So,” Elle continued. “This is what we’re going to do. I’m going to sweep through the houses and look for anything we might be able to use, and then we’ll circle back and sit with Nathan until he…” She trailed off, rubbing her temples. “Well. I’m talking to a dog. I’ve finally cracked.”

Bravo chuffed under his breath, throwing his head back.

“Geez, don’t act so offended,” Elle muttered.

Then don’t offend me, kid.

Elle stared at Bravo. She blinked a few times. It was almost like she could hear him talking to her, slinging back sarcasm in the silence of the desert night. She shook her head and headed for the first shack in sight. It looked as beaten down as the rest – nothing special. Elle entered through an open window, picking her way through the wreckage within. There were broken floorboards, rusty nails. It smelled of wet earth and rotting wood. Bravo entered the building with Elle, sniffing carefully, silent as the night.

They searched the entire house. There was nothing but broken glass. They moved on to the next house, searching through the emptiness for something they might be able to use – scraps of food, maybe weapons. They came up short every time.

“Well, I’m not surprised,” Elle stated.

Sunlight was quickly waning, casting black and gray shadows through the town. It seemed ghostly at night to Elle, and lonelier, in some ways, than the streets of Los Angeles.

They began walking back. Bravo stopped, a low growl in the back of his throat. Elle tensed, drawing away. She held her arm up defensively, half expecting the dog to lunge and take out a chunk of her skin.

“What’s with you?” Elle asked.

Bravo stalked forward, deliberate steps in the direction of the shadows between the buildings, the dirt road that curved through the small town. Elle followed his line of sight, but saw nothing. She lifted her hand above her head and closed her fingers around the katana, pulling it out of its scabbard.

The blade was light and balanced in her hands.

Bravo’s growl became louder, more urgent. He barked low. Elle’s heart began to race. What did the dog sense that she didn’t? A wild animal? Something worse?

“Who’s there?” Elle asked. “Show yourself.”

Her words came out shaky and uncertain. She sounded scared, and she hated herself for it. There was slight movement under the eaves of one of the buildings, and then there was something moving toward them. In the late hours of the evening, it was difficult to discern what it was, exactly. It was hunched over, close to the ground. It looked like a dog, larger and fiercer than Bravo.

And then Elle saw that it wasn’t a dog. It was a man.

She had never seen anyone in Los Angeles in this condition. He was stooped low, his hair was frayed and mottled with dried blood. His eyes held a feverish glaze as he stared at Elle and Bravo. She stood there, unmoving, looking at the misshapen man. He was terrifying. His face had been burned, one eye looked like it had been slashed out.

“What do you want?” Elle asked.

She felt a bolt of regret. She knew in that instant that no matter what she said or what she did, she would not be able to leave this place without dealing with the man. She couldn’t run, she couldn’t pretend he wasn’t there. He was now a threat, and Elle knew of only one way to deal with threats.

The man said nothing. He just stopped, slowing and watching the girl and the dog. And then, quicker than Elle could blink, he was running toward them. He sprinted with a manic energy, bolting across the open space that separated them. Elle was horrified. Her instincts held true, though, and she braced herself for his approach.

She drew the katana backward, prepared to swipe it through the air and kill the man if needed. Bravo barked louder, this time with menace. He ran forward and met the man halfway, striking like a bullet. His jaws sank into the man’s arm and he slammed him against the ground.

The man screamed. It was a raspy, desperate voice – it hardly sounded human. He grappled with the dog but Bravo was too strong. He tore into the man until he lie on the ground in a trembling, bloody heap.

“Bravo, stop!” Elle yelled. “Leave him!”

The dog paused, looked at Elle through eyes veiled with carnal instinct and military training. He pulled away from the man. Elle walked closer, studying him. Bravo hadn’t done more than tear his arm up – the rest of his body had been damaged by something else.

“What do you want?” Elle asked again.

The man looked up, shaking. Tears streamed down his wrinkled face.

“To die,” he whispered. “I want to die.”

Elle swallowed a lump in her throat.

“Who did this to you?” she asked.

He gazed straight through her, glassy-eyed. He went still.

Elle exhaled, looking at Bravo.

“You don’t mess around, dog,” she remarked. “You don’t trust anyone.” She cocked her head. “You and I might get along.”

Bravo stepped farther away from the now-dead man.

I get things done, he seemed to say. It’s my job.

Elle looked back at the man. She wondered what had happened to him. Why had he been wandering alone in the desert, burned and mutilated, left to die like a wounded animal? Had it been Omega? Had it been the Slavers?

She sighed. She would never know.

“Let’s go back,” Elle muttered.

She turned, and when she looked at Bravo, he followed her as if he understood every word she said.

The soldier named Nathan died that night.

Bravo let out a mournful howl. His master was dead. Elle buried Nathan. She found a rusty shovel in a pile of old mining equipment and dug a hole. She dug until her hands were covered in blisters and sweat stuck her clothes to her skin. She dragged his body into the hole and covered him with dirt. Bravo watched the entire thing with a baleful expression, whimpering and whining.

Elle used her katana to scrape letters into the side of the little cabin.

RIP NATHAN

HE DIED WITH HIS FRIEND BY HIS SIDE

She didn’t know what else to say. Somehow, she thought that he’d appreciate the fact that his dog had stayed by his side until the end.

“Come on,” Elle said, sheathing the sword. “You’re with me now, Bravo.”

The desert was unforgiving. Elle was determined to beat it. Bravo trotted slowly beside her. Elle wrapped a thick scarf around her face. She had taken it from the dead man’s pack. It helped protect her skin from the gritty dust and sand.

“We’ve got a long walk, dog,” Elle said.

Bravo looked at her. Nothing new to me, he seemed to say.

“You up for it?” she asked.

Well, what else am I going to do, human?

She nodded.

“Okay, then,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

Part Two: The Slavers

Chapter Seven

San Jacinto National Park – Slaver Territory

Elle ran quickly and quietly, dodging boulders and making her way through the pine trees. The smell of sugar pine and cedar was strong. The morning was crisp and silent. Elle was little more than a shadow, sprinting through the forest. And beside her, Bravo ran, too. He was quieter than Elle, his hunter’s instincts making him fast and alert.

Elle’s heart raced.

There was no stopping now.

There were no more options. This was the last resort.

48 Hours Earlier

Mount San Jacinto State Park. The sign was in good condition, standing amidst a backdrop of blue skies and mountain ridges. Elle touched the sign with the tip of her finger, just to make sure it was real. She was exhausted. Her feet hurt, her body ached. She was hungry. Days of rationing protein bars and water bottles had taken its toll. Her head throbbed and her lips were cracked.

She looked at Bravo.

Let’s get this over with, he said. You and me. This is our thing now.

“At least we know we’re in the right place,” Elle replied.

There was a gold star painted on the sign, but this time, the star was different. It was inside a circle. Elle figured it meant that they had arrived.

Hello, Slaver Territory.

This place has too many smells. Bravo shook his head, focusing his dark eyes on the horizon. Hang on. I’ve got something different.

Elle watched him. She knew what he was thinking just by looking at him. She’d learned to read his thoughts over the last few days, during the long, thankless trek across the open desert and the exhausting climb up the mountains. There were still many mysteries about this dog, but she liked to think she was slowly forming a bond with him.

Slowly, but surely.

“We should rest,” Elle said aloud. It was early morning and the temperature was frigid. The sunlight was unfiltered and bright. She squinted her eyes and returned her gaze to Bravo.

“You’re right,” she sighed. “We can’t rest. We’ve got to keep going.”

Well, I didn’t come all this way for nothing, girl, Bravo snorted.

“Don’t give me that look,” Elle complained. “I’m tired enough.”

Then let’s go!

“Fine.”

Good girl.

So that’s what they did. They kept moving, weaving through the mountain trails. It was an interesting kind of mountain range, a mix of desert and lush forest. There were pine trees and cedars, but there was also dry brush and open patches of dirt. From their vantage point on the side of the mountain, Elle and Bravo could see the desert floor far below.

“I can’t believe we walked that far,” Elle muttered.

Bravo tucked his head and trotted faster, pulling ahead of Elle.

“You’re a show-off, dog,” Elle said.

Bravo tilted his head, suddenly tensing.

I smell people.

Elle stared at him. He turned on his heel and began moving forward, silently creeping through the underbrush, threading his way through the maze of trees. The shade in the forest was chilly. Elle struggled to keep pace with Bravo. Her feet felt like blocks of cement.

She needed to rest…

And then she stopped, dropping to her hands and knees in the bushes. There was movement up ahead, voices. Bravo paused near the edge of a Manzanita bush, his ears flat against his head.

“Bravo,” Elle whispered. “Come on. Back here, boy.”

He hesitated.

Okay…

Then he turned and joined Elle.

“Good boy,” she said. “Okay, what have we found here?”

She crawled forward on her stomach, straining to see through the branches and bushes. She heard the rumbling of trucks and the clear, rough laughter of men. She stopped moving, nearly placing her hand on top of a strip of rusty barbed wire. A dozen strips of the wire had been threaded through the trees, creating a fence.

“I think we found it, Bravo,” Elle said, her voice low.

She peered through the makeshift wire fencing. There was a clearing in the midst of the forest. She saw pickup trucks and old jeeps. She caught glimpses of unshaven men in tattered clothing. Elle’s heartbeat quickened. There were a few old buildings and what looked like corrals between the trees. There were several horses and, on each tree, there was a gold star.

Slaver Territory. Bravo crouched on his haunches, seemingly giving Elle a nudge. Told you we’d find it.

“You did good, Bravo,” Elle whispered.

Of course I did. I’m a dog.

“Don’t get cocky.” Elle moved her gaze from the corrals and the trucks to the side of the mountain. There was an impressive rock face behind the encampment. It jutted into the sky, fierce and dominating.

A dirt road had been carved into the side of the mountain, winding up toward the rock. It was a new road, probably made by the Slavers.

Several trucks rumbled up the road, and in the

back of the trucks, there were people. They were

too far away to see their faces, but from here,

Elle could tell that they were packed together

like sardines in a tin can.

Prisoners? Had to be.

“What are they taking them up there for?” she whispered.

You tell me. Humans don’t make any sense half the time.

Elle offered a half-hearted grin.

“I guess we’ll have to find out,” she said.

Good plan, girl. Bravo’s eyes glimmered. Let’s do that.

“If we make it out of this alive,” Georgia said, taking a drag on a cigarette, “I’m going back to college and making something of myself.”

“I doubt colleges are going to be the first thing that’s rebuilt in society,” Jay replied, cracking a wry smile. “We’ll probably have to focus on the more basic elements of survival first.”

“I’m not an idiot.” Georgia rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying. I’d like to teach.”

“You? A teacher?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I just… That’s a picture, I’ll give you that.”

They were sitting on the ground, taking a brief break from the long walk out of Los Angeles. Flash and Pix sat together, silent. Elle stood apart from the group, watching and listening.

Georgia made a face.

“Hey, at least I have ambitions,” she snapped. “What would you do if you had another chance to climb the social ladder, Dr. Phil?”

Jay shrugged.

“Oh, come on,” Georgia prodded. “Enlighten us.”

Elle watched Jay’s face. It was veiled in shadow, difficult to read.

“I don’t know,” he said.

Lie. Elle knew he was avoiding the truth.

“You’re a total bore, Jay,” Georgia commented, blowing smoke into the air. “Remind me not to get stuck with you again when the apocalypse hits next time.”

Jay shrugged again.

Georgia was smiling.

Elle said nothing.

“What about you, shortstack?” Georgia asked, turning to Elle. “What would you do in an ideal world?”

“There is no ideal world,” Elle deadpanned.

“Come on, use your imagination for once in your life.”

Elle stared at her feet.

“I would have stayed in Los Angeles after the EMP,” she said. “I would have saved my family.” Georgia balanced her cigarette between her fingers.

“You’re morbid, kid,” she said, but there was sadness in her words.

Then, in a soft voice, Jay replied.

“I would have done the same thing.”

Elle slipped through the trees. She was a dark flash, and Bravo was her shadow. She had pulled far enough away from the Slaver encampment to avoid being seen, but remained close enough so that she could hear the rumble of their trucks and the garble of their voices echoing off the mountains.

“We’ve got to get to the top of that rock cliff,” Elle breathed, stopping behind a tree. Bravo panted next to her, following her line of sight. “I think they’re keeping prisoners up there. If Jay and the others are here, that’s where they’ll be.”

At least, that’s what Elle was hoping.

She could be wrong. Jay, Georgia and Flash could be dead.

Hey. Bravo nudged her with the tip of his nose. Focus, lady. We’re on a mission, remember?

Elle nodded.

The road that led up the cliff embankment was too exposed for Elle and Bravo to use. They would have to come up behind the road, sifting through the thick brush and the cover of the trees. If they were careful, they could at least take a peek at what was up there…

“Okay, let’s go,” Elle whispered.

She crept forward, keeping a close watch on everything around her. They got close to the dirt road. Elle paused. There were no trucks coming, no men. She tensed and darted across the road, vanishing into the other side of the pathway. Bravo followed her, staying close. She grinned and rubbed his head.

“We make a good team,” she said.

The growl of an engine echoed through the forest. Elle dropped to her hands and knees and pulled on Bravo’s collar. “Down,” she commanded. “Stay down!”

A diesel pickup truck blundered by on the road. It was going slow. The pickup bed was packed with a dozen or so prisoners. There were men and women – even a couple of children. Elle swallowed her disgust, peering at the men inside the cab. The windows were rolled down. A Slaver with long dreadlocks was driving, hanging one arm out the window. Two armed men sat beside him, and four or five guards trailed behind the pickup on foot, toting rifles and what looked like AK-47s.

Elle frowned.

This was not an encouraging sight.

She waited until the truck and the guards had passed them to get up and walk. The thought occurred to Elle that the Slavers were going to monumental pains to set up their encampment in the heart of the mountains, and they were bringing in dozens upon dozens of new prisoners every day.

What were they using them for? What purpose could the Slavers possibly have for prisoners? Why did they need so many of them?

There’s a rumor going around, Sienna had said. There’s something big in the desert. Something the militias can’t stop.

Elle pushed back the cloud of worry gathering at the edges of her mind and focused on the task at hand. She knew from personal experience that staying alive in hostile territory required concentration.

One wrong move and you could be dead.

Elle and Bravo followed the basic direction of the dirt road, staying hidden in the cover of the underbrush and darting from tree to tree. The hill became steeper, and Elle had to use rocks and bushes to pull herself up. Bravo’s progress was slow but sure. They both fought gravity and exhaustion as they struggled up the hill, pausing only to catch their breaths.

They rounded the right side of the rock cliff, coming close to the clearing at the top. Elle stopped. She stayed low. The road curved around the corner here, opening to a wide space that was hidden behind the large granite face. There were four large, makeshift corrals here. Each corral was built of wood and topped with sharp barbed wire. People were packed into each corral, some of them standing, some of them sitting on the ground. Some of them looked like they had passed out and were lying in the dirt, strewn at odd angles.

Slavers were walking between the corrals, armed to the teeth, dressed in black clothes, scarves tied around their faces. They looked like pirates – like mercenaries. There were guards everywhere – except on the rock. No one was guarding the rock. It was a sheer drop-off on the other side, at least four hundred feet to the bottom. A long fall to a quick death.

The guards were armed with more than just AKs. They had swords strapped across their backs, resembling medieval warriors.

“We are so dead,” Elle muttered.

She searched the corrals for the familiar faces of Jay, Georgia and Flash, but she couldn’t spot them. There was no way to see everyone. They could be anywhere.

They could be dead.

Elle shook herself.

If the kids weren’t here, at least she would have closure. At least she’d know that she had tried to do the right thing. She could live with that.

She could live with try.

At the farthest edge of the clearing, a corral was filled with younger prisoners. Elle saw a flash of dark skin and hair, faded cargo pants and a red shirt. Jay? It certainly looked like him, but from this distance, she couldn’t be sure. Near him, there was a girl with a matted tangle of blond curls. Georgia? God, the resemblance was striking. She was wearing a denim jacket, exactly what Georgia had been wearing the morning they had been taken by the Slavers.

But where was Flash?

She didn’t see him, and her heart sank. Maybe he didn’t survive the journey here. Maybe the Slavers killed him. Maybe, maybe, maybe… Elle’s heart hammered against her ribcage. She knew what she needed to do; it was simply a matter of how to get it done. Elle turned her gaze to the guards – there were too many. She couldn’t possibly sneak past them without being spotted.

“There’s only one way we’re getting out of this alive,” Elle whispered to Bravo, keeping one hand on his collar.

Bravo looked at her. You don’t say?

Yes.

She did.