The Day After Never - Legion (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 8) Read online

  Still, the return journey wore on his nerves, and the combination of sleep deprivation and having lost all the members of his team was coming to bear. The horse was doing the best it could, but he calculated that at most he was only making twenty miles per day; at that rate it would take another four to make it back to Denver and give Elijah the news.

  Earlier that day, the ride had been worse than any he’d taken before. Around noon, with the sun high in the sky, he’d spied a group of scavengers riding up the highway from his cover a quarter mile toward the foothills. He’d taken to sleeping near the deserted buildings that lined the road, worried that someone might spot the horse and come to investigate – another reason he was getting precious little sleep. A dust cloud had followed the men south, and he’d reckoned they were likely part of the neo-Nazis who’d laid claim to Colorado Springs, or worse, outcasts from that group, considered too dangerous and reckless for even their depraved lifestyle.

  Leo had watched them through his binoculars, holding his breath as the filthy riders worked their way down the highway, their horses’ ribs like washboards from malnutrition. On the way south from Denver, Leo and his group had avoided both Colorado Springs and Pueblo lest they attract unwanted attention, or worse, in the event the murderers in Shangri-La had watchers there. While that was unlikely, they hadn’t wanted to take the chance; a group of four men from Denver with well-fed mounts and full saddlebags might have been too appealing to the local miscreants.

  The danger was just as great on the return trip, but Leo wasn’t worried – he remembered the trail they’d followed on the way down and could manage it handily, even at night. The only possible hazard would be a misstep from his horse since a broken or sprained ankle would effectively strand him in the middle of nowhere with predators all around.

  The scavengers had continued past his position, and when they’d shrunk into dots on the horizon, Leo had set the binoculars down and exhaled with fatigue. Sleeping during daylight hours was hard duty with nobody to stand watch, which meant he was rarely fully asleep for any sustained period.

  “I’ll sleep in Denver,” he’d muttered to himself, and caught himself on the final syllable. He’d noticed that he’d taken to holding punctuated conversations out loud on the ride, and feared he might be losing his mind from the sleeplessness and stress. It was one thing to curse occasionally with nobody around to hear it, but another entirely to fall prey to mumbling like a delusional hobo.

  Now, only a few more days from Denver, he was going to have to be especially careful not to slip up. Tomorrow or the next night he would pass Colorado Springs, and if he made it without mishap, he would be home free. The thought cheered him, and he patted his horse’s neck with a grimy hand. “Almost,” he said, reasoning that he was talking to his animal to reassure it, not to himself. That he had to make the distinction troubled him for only an instant, and then he settled back in the saddle, scanning the horizon for campfires or any other hints of life.

  He made it to Denver on the fourth night and, after being stopped by a patrol, was escorted to Elijah’s headquarters beside the convention center/church, where he was brought a meal while he waited for his master to arrive.

  The young preacher’s eyes were rimmed with red and his face puffy from sleep when he entered the room where Leo was seated at a table, feasting on his dinner.

  “Well?” Elijah demanded.

  Leo delivered his report in a wooden tone, so tired he could barely manage to form words. When he was done, he held Elijah’s gaze before dropping his eyes and returning to his meal. “Sorry if I eat while we talk. It’s been three weeks since I had any real food.”

  “No problem, Leo. You’ve done well. But…” Elijah’s tone softened. “You didn’t actually see Shangri-La?”

  “No. But it had to be nearby. Otherwise why set up an ambush?”

  Elijah nodded absently, but his eyes were reptilian in the candlelight. “A fair assumption. But still, only that.” He sighed. “Where exactly is it?”

  “Do you have a map?”

  “Of course.” Elijah snapped his fingers, and one of the stewards by the door hurried away to fetch the desired item. He returned with a dog-eared highway map of Colorado and set it in front of Leo. Leo unfolded it and studied the topography, and shook his head in wonder.

  “Hard to believe this is all gone, isn’t it?”

  Elijah tensed at the comment. “This isn’t a trip down memory lane. Where is Shangri-La?”

  Leo frowned. “Ellen had said that it was in the mountains west of Pueblo. We followed her directions to the trail she’d described, and then worked our way into the mountains. We picked up tracks almost immediately, so from there it was merely a matter of following them.”

  “Yes, yes,” Elijah snapped. “All very interesting, but I didn’t ask for a blow by blow of how you located it. I asked where it is.”

  Leo hunched over the map and pored over the surface until he sat back, the cracked nail of his index finger defining a point. “Here. Amber Hot Springs. Has to be. There’s nothing else close.”

  Elijah glared at the map like it had bitten him. “You’re sure?”

  “Well, it makes sense. Remember how Ellen said they’d managed to rig up some power? The hot springs would be the only realistic source. Especially if they hoped to make it through the winter there.” Leo paused and nodded, the lines in his face deepening with each bob of his head. “I’d bet my life on it.”

  Elijah sat back, obviously lost in thought. Leo resumed eating, and the only sounds in the room were the wet crunch of Leo’s mastication and his hoarse breathing.

  After several moments, Elijah stood and smiled at Leo.

  “You’ve done well, my son. My father will be avenged. At dawn, we will prepare an army and march against that cursed place. We’ll burn it to the ground, and those responsible for his death will be brought to justice. The Lord has willed it. We shall make it so.”

  Elijah stood and marched briskly to the door, where the stewards had been watching the scene impassively. He paused at the threshold and then slowly turned to face Leo.

  “Get some rest. I’ll want you at the head of the procession tomorrow. You’ve earned the honor.”

  Elijah left, taking his entourage with him, leaving Leo alone with his food. He blinked at the blurry map and rose. He barely made his way to a divan in the corner before he passed out, weeks of sleepless nights hitting him with the force of a blow.

  Chapter 3

  Houston, Texas

  Snake paced the length of his chambers as he listened to Nate, one of his lieutenants, deliver his report. Snake’s face was a mask of rage as the man described the treasonous behavior of the leaders of one of the largest factions of his gang.

  “Word is that they had a meeting two days ago to discuss what to do. Nothing was decided, but the fact that they’re even talking about it is…a problem.”

  Snake clenched his hands at his sides. “Go on.”

  “They’re worried that by killing the Illuminati ambassador, you’ve subjected all of us to risk. What it comes down to is they don’t trust your judgment or your leadership.”

  “They didn’t take it any further than that?” Snake asked, as though the clear and present mutiny weren’t enough.

  “Not yet. I argued on your behalf, obviously, but they’ve already made up their minds.” Nate paused. “I pretended to be on their side, of course, by the end. I had to, or they would have killed me. But I’m still not sure they trust me enough to tell me their plans.”

  “Of course,” Snake said. He stopped in front of a floor-to-ceiling bookcase that he kept in the room because he liked the look of it, not because he’d ever read any of the dusty tomes on the shelves. “Here’s what I want you to do. Call an emergency meeting for just before dawn. Only the lieutenants and their most trusted officers. That way they won’t have enough time to prepare.”

  “For…this morning?” Nate stammered.

  “Yes. From what yo
u’ve told me, it isn’t smart to leave this any longer.” Snake resumed pacing. “Your loyalty will be rewarded. Now go. I need to think through how I’m going to handle this.”

  After Nate shouldered through the door, Snake bolted it shut and then stormed across the room to his desk, eyes blazing. He sat down, extracted a translucent vial from one of the drawers, and filled the bowl of a glass pipe resting in an ashtray with the contents.

  Two minutes later he exhaled a long stream of white smoke and closed his eyes as his veins constricted. The meth hit his heart and the inside of his head like a sledgehammer, and he bolted to his feet and began pacing again, the pipe forgotten on the tabletop.

  That those scum would dare to challenge him was only the latest in a string of dangers to his tentative reign. Only this wasn’t some fringe element – between the lieutenants and the men they commanded, it represented a substantial portion of the Crew. Worse, they were some of the most influential fighters he had, and it would substantially weaken the gang if he were to lose them.

  He shook his head to clear it and wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow. He needed to think. Not act impetuously.

  Perhaps the meeting wasn’t a good idea? He had no plan other than to confront them. But what then? Have them all killed? It wasn’t a bad idea, but with his ranks already depleted and many of his men agitated and unhappy, summary executions, while satisfying, might further weaken his grip on power.

  He walked back to the table, his hands shaking, and considered the pipe. No, no more drugs until he’d thought things through. The men would arrive in less than five hours. How to deal with a group that collectively could overthrow him without much resistance?

  The area around the Crew headquarters glowed from fires burning in oil drums set up in what had once been the huge church’s parking lot. Over a hundred of the top officers were gathered outside on a wide, flat promenade that led to the building entrance, where they huddled in groups, talking in low voices. Snake appeared on the roof with his two bodyguards and stared down at the assembly, rifle in hand.

  “I called you all here this morning to let you know that there are going to be some big changes. Now that we’re free of the Illuminati, we’re going to reclaim our territory to the north and down by the border and run things our way, not the way they wanted. By the time we’re done, we’ll be the strongest gang in the country. Nobody will dare go up against us, not even them.” He glared at the men, his face hard and angular. “I know some of you have been grumbling about how I’ve been running things. So this is your chance to leave. Anyone who questions my authority from here on out will take a bullet to the skull, understand? I’m only warning you instead of doing it because I understand you might have your doubts. That’s fine. But for this plan to work, I need you to come together, and I can’t afford anyone who isn’t going to back me. We can’t go to war with a group of traitors sabotaging us.”

  Silence settled over the men, and Snake raised his rifle and slowly swept the crowd. The crosshairs settled on a tall, muscular Latino man with many of the same types of tattoos on his face as Snake’s, and he fired a single shot that plugged him between the eyes.

  The man collapsed and Snake lowered his weapon. “I know he was the instigator of the mutiny, so he had to pay the price. The rest of you can make a choice: stay or go. If you decide to go, you won’t be hurt as long as you leave now. Just get out of here. But if you stay, by the time we’re done taking back what’s ours, you’ll be powerful beyond your wildest dreams, with anything you want for the asking. So the question is, do you want to cut and run and try your luck on your own, or be part of a new Crew that will be stronger than ever?”

  The officers had seen more than their share of brutality and death, so witnessing one of their top leaders gunned down had no visible effect on them. Several of them turned to their fellows and began murmuring; Snake stood like a statue, his gun leaning against his hip, barrel pointed at the sky.

  A shout rang out from near the back of the crowd over the hum of conversation. “How do we know you’ll keep your word and let anyone who wants to go leave safely?”

  “If you leave, that’ll be the least of your worries. You’ll be marked men. Don’t forget that there are plenty of groups that would tear you to pieces if they weren’t afraid of reprisals from the Crew. Making it out of Houston will be the easy part.”

  More grumbling, and then a pair of dark-skinned men with shaved heads split from the others. “Everyone’s watching. You gave your word,” the taller of the two said.

  Snake recognized them. Jay and Mike, cousins, both of whom had been incarcerated for rape, aggravated assault, and violent home invasions before the collapse. They were responsible for one of the areas down by the refineries and had reputations as ugly as their scarred faces.

  “That’s right. Do what you have to do.” Snake looked around. “Anyone else? Now’s your chance.”

  Four more men broke ranks and joined the cousins. Snake resisted the impulse to gun them down and instead stared at them without reaction. “Okay. That’s it? Good. You six – grab your shit and get out of my town. If you’re still here at noon, you’re fair game. Hit the road.”

  Snake watched the men as they edged away from the crowd, wary of a trick. When nobody shot them in the back, they picked up their pace. Snake turned and called to Derek, his second-in-command. When he approached, Snake leaned into him.

  “Follow them to the city limits. When they cross out of Houston, kill them. I didn’t promise them they’d be safe outside town.”

  The lieutenant grinned, revealing several gold-capped teeth, and hurried away to carry out his orders.

  Snake straightened and regarded the assembly. “All right. The rest of you stayed. That means you’re part of the winning team. I want you to make the same offer to your men I just did to those cowards. Anyone who doesn’t like the way things are can leave. But if they stay, they need to be committed. Report back to me by nightfall and let me know how you did.”

  He eyed the officers and frowned. “We don’t need some mystery men a thousand miles away giving us orders. We’re the Crew. We take what we want; we don’t beg for it or crawl on our stomachs. The Illuminati lied to us about everything – about fixing the refinery, about more gold for reinforcements, all of it. I don’t know about you, but I know what Magnus would have done if he’d been lied to. I did the same. So now we’re free agents again, in control of our future. And our first order of business is going to be to consolidate our power in our territory. No more fragmentation. This is going to be scorched earth, and you’re either with us or against us. By the time we’re done, nobody will dare defy us. Not the cartels, not the Illuminati, not anyone. Now get some sleep and then put out the word. I’ve got work to do.”

  Snake spun and marched back to the bowels of the church, his message clear. It was a calculated gamble, but the only card he had to play. That more hadn’t left was the only surprise, which told him that there were still traitors in the ranks. But he could deal with those on a case-by-case basis – the crisis was averted for now. His informants would keep him apprised of any further dissension, which he would crush with an iron fist.

  Assuming those who had remained hadn’t done so to attack him from within.

  He had to assume that might be the case, but there wasn’t much he could immediately do about it. His only option was to watch and wait and, when somebody tried something, to gut them like a fish.

  Chapter 4

  Seattle, Washington

  Lucas rode alongside Lyle, one of Sam’s top gunmen, their horses’ hooves clattering on the pavement of a large boulevard that ran from downtown into what had once been the surrounding residential area. Lucas’s planned departure within a day or two of the victory over the Chinese had proved more aggressive than practical, and he’d reluctantly agreed to stay a week to help the locals organize against a repeat appearance of the Chinese on the horizon, even though he was anxious to get on the road and return to Si
erra and his new family.

  Art and Lucas had met with the community leaders, such as they were, who’d been of distinctly different mindsets over how best to proceed. The one commonality was that they were all in shock from the intensity of the battle that had cleared the invaders from the city, and were still trying to come to grips with the prospect of sudden self-determination. Art had proposed a city council to act as the steering committee for defense and policing, and Lucas had agreed to meet with some local holdouts who’d rejected the idea of working under a central authority.

  He was on his way to see one of the most prominent – a man named Levon, who held sway over a significant area of the inner city and who, before the Chinese had appeared, had successfully held off the gang who’d ruled the town. He’d appeared at the first big meeting with the other leaders and had dismissed any discussion of bowing to the will of a group. Art had tried to make the man see reason, but Levon had stormed off halfway through the summit, and it had only been through Sam’s seeking him out at Art and Lucas’s urging that he’d agreed to meet again to discuss how to proceed.

  “Getting close,” Lyle said, glancing around at the run-down buildings.

  “Good,” Lucas said. “Got better things to do than chase down every gangster in Washington for a powwow.”

  “I hear you.”

  Lucas was annoyed at having to delay his return home, and being sent as a peacemaker wasn’t improving his mood. Two days had passed since the battle for the city, and Lucas was anxious to be on the move rather than serving as a figurehead for the reestablishment of order in Seattle.

  Lyle slowed his horse and leaned toward Lucas. “Up there on the next corner. You can see his lookouts.”

  Lucas eyed the slouching group and grunted. “Where were they when we were fighting the Chinese?”

  “Good point.”