E j deen, p.8
E. J. Deen, page 8
He wasn’t sure how long it took him to find the water. It could have been a day, two days. He had no real way of knowing. What might have proven to be a two-hour hike to an uninjured man became a hundred mile crawl for him. But he managed it in triumph and was rewarded for his effort.
When he finally found the source of the water, he wept with relief. It was a beautiful, clear
underground stream. A gift from a God who had by all accounts forgotten his people.
He drank from that beautiful gift, and it kept him alive.
In the days that followed, he slept a lot, drank plentifully, and cleaned his wound in the freezing water as often as he dared. He was deep in the cave now, and the temperature was a constant fifty-six degrees, something he couldn’t quite get accustomed to. He only had the thin blanket the woman had left behind for him. But he survived. Thanks to the woman and her pills, thanks to the water, and thanks to the cave.
In the beginning, he’d hated the damn cavern. The darkness had sometimes driven him to brief
moments of madness. The dank smell had left an acrid imprint in his nostrils. The sounds that came from deep within its belly had frightened him. But he and the cave were simpatico now. The cave had become his mother, his nurturer, and he had learned to love it. It would continue to teach him. Inside its womb, he would grow into the force, the freak of war that people would come to fear.
He was a changed man. His mother was the earth, his teacher pain, his goal to survive. And death to anyone who got in his way.
7
By the time he crossed the Texas border, Zach’s fuel was getting dangerously low. The ten paltry gallons he’d found in the tank behind the New Orleans shanty was barely enough to get him where he needed to be. A hellish place this Texas had become, crawling with the maggots of humanity. He hated to even have to enter the city, but enter it he must.
As he drove through the streets of what had once been Dallas, he surreptitiously observed the dregs that had gathered there to claim the ruins as their home. All sorts of people lived there, scattered and few but there nonetheless. The men were surprisingly scarce. Women stood on the corners, their hair tousled and dirty. Children ran loose in the city, carrying knives, guns, even homemade explosives.
Gang warfare was rampant. Most members joined by the age of nine and died before they ever reached their fifteenth birthday. They killed without compunction, for whatever they could get out of it.
Clothing, food, ammunition for their weapons, and transportation when they could get it. As worthless as it was, they even killed for jewelry. And sometimes they killed just to vent their frustration and anger on what was left of society.
The streets were nearly deserted, but he could feel them watching from their hiding places inside the charred and gutted buildings, those great skyscrapers that had once ruled the city. It seemed odd, but those structures had once stood for wealth and power. Now they only stood for failure, complete and utter. He knew what they wanted, these children, these odd creatures who weren’t even human
anymore. They wanted the Hummer. If he wasn’t careful, they would get what they wanted. That or they would die trying.
He didn’t feel much like killing today, especially not children who had no concept of what they were doing in the first place. But he could feel it coming already, snaking through him and settling in his gut like a bad meal.
Near the center of the city, he found the place where he was supposed to wait for the go-between who would give him further instructions. It was a burned-out building in an abandoned business district. A yellow piece of cloth was nailed to a post outside. The go-between’s calling card.
Zach pulled into the empty lot and parked the Hummer in plain sight of the front door. The precaution offered little protection. The Hummer would be a sitting duck. When the vandals who were sure to come discovered that they couldn’t crank the engine, they would get angry and try to destroy it. He didn’t have much to worry about in the way of aesthetics. The Hummer was a battered war horse that had seen many a dent and ding, and there wasn’t an inch of glass left on the vehicle. The windshield, headlights, and taillights had all been busted out long ago. His fuel tank was as secure as Fort Knox.
The worst they could do was puncture the tires. And that was precisely what he was afraid of. Tires for Hummers were not easy to come by.
For a long time he stood next to the Hummer, his keen eyes searching every nook and cranny of the area. He didn’t like this. There were too many places for Pirates or gang members to hide. It was a bad choice for a meeting, a stupid choice. But then, he hadn’t been the one to pick it, so he couldn’t account for the other man’s intelligence.
It irked him that Serena’s parents didn’t trust him enough to allow the meeting to take place on their turf. He resented the inconvenience and the added danger. He could understand their fear, but he’d been hired to help them, not hurt them, and he personally felt they were putting too much trust in the wrong people. Not that it was of any real concern to him now. Serena was safe, and after today, he didn’t plan on dealing with her parents ever again.
Zach surveyed the building again. When it became apparent that his contact had no intention of coming out to meet him, he reluctantly left the Hummer and approached the entrance. He didn’t like this. The smell of an ambush was heavy in the air. It made him edgy, nervous. Angry. Already his hands were itching to kill someone just for making him go out of his way.
It was a sunny day in Texas, but the interior of the building was devoid of any light, and Zach didn’t relish the idea of walking into that darkness. But he had to. It wasn’t that he felt any real compunction to deliver the message to Serena’s parents. That was pointless now. He felt no obligation to a man who would allow a bunch of rogues to make off with his daughter. He was here for the fuel they had promised him. Payment for his services. He needed it too much to leave it behind.
Primed for action, he solemnly walked to the door. Just outside the entrance, he paused long enough to pull a small stone from his pocket, a piece of celestite, which he lit and tossed into the building. The flare illuminated the interior enough that he could see, and he peered warily inside, his eyes taking in everything. Finding the entrance hall empty, he stepped inside. No one skulked in a corner waiting to bang him on the back of the head and leave him for dead—not yet, anyway—so he went farther into the room.
A scuffling noise from somewhere deeper in the building drew him through another doorway. Ever the skeptic, he proceeded with caution. A shadow lurked on the far side of the room. Zach could see by the glow from the flare behind him that the man was rather muscular. Not nearly as muscular as Zach himself, and nowhere near as tall, but large enough to get his respect.
“You Steve?”
“Who’s asking?” came the reply.
“I have news about the girl,” he countered.
The man’s demeanor changed, his face registering unmistakable interest. Stupid ass. He obviously didn’t know the rules of the game. He shouldn’t be so expressive, especially considering that he didn’t know who Zach was.
“I’m the one you’re looking for.”
“Got any identification?” Zach wasn’t really serious. He was only stalling for time until he could get a little closer to the man. He didn’t like this situation. His gut was warning him that he was about to get screwed all the way around.
“Where the fuck have you been in the last decade?” the man shot back. “No one carries identification anymore. Who the hell needs it?”
“You do if you want any information out of me.”
“Hey, what is this?” the man demanded. “You trying to be funny or something? This is what you agreed to.”
“Yeah, at the time. But now I’m not so sure. I think I’ve had a change of heart.”
“Too fucking bad,” came the answer.
By this time, Zach was practically standing toe-to-toe with him, close enough that the man could consider his sizeable bulk.
“I take it that means you aren’t gonna tell me where I can find the girl’s father.” Zach sounded dangerously casual. Anyone who knew him at all knew that now was the time to run like hell because he was about to bust loose.
The man grinned. He obviously thought he had the upper hand. “You’d be thinking rightly.”
“I don’t suppose we could negotiate a deal.”
“What sort of deal?”
“You tell me where the girl’s father is, and I won’t kill you.”
The man’s eyes narrowed skeptically as he took a better look at his opponent’s size. “What the fuck makes you think you could kill me?”
“This does,” Zach answered, pulling a dagger from his coat, a throwaway he’d carved out of bone.
The man laughed when he saw it. “You expect that little stick to beat this,” he said, producing a .38
revolver that had been tucked in the small of his back.
The moron was in the process of drawing back the hammer when Zach hit him in the face. The blow was so quick and packed such force that ole Steve’s head slammed back against the brick wall he’d been leaning against. Blood spurted from his nose, and the pistol clattered to the floor.
Dammit all! He hated it when they bled so easily. It always gave him the willies. Even though he had the protection of Doc’s vaccine, he hated to have blood on him. Anyone’s blood. It reminded him too much of his mother’s death.
“If you wanna kill someone with that thing, you gotta learn to be a quick draw,” Zach mused.
The man looked dazed, almost like he was about to lose consciousness. Zach grabbed him by the throat to keep him from sliding down the wall. He needed the man lucid. At least until he got what he wanted out of him.
“Now, what was that you were saying about the girl’s father?” he growled.
Steve—if that was really his name—obviously didn’t need another taste of Zach’s wrath, and was all too willing to comply now. “Outside of town. East. He’ll be waiting beside the road. Just off 80, at the 110 junction.”
“Sorry. That’s not quite good enough. Where does he live?”
Steve hesitated, noting the hostility in Zach’s eyes, then apparently decided it was best not to mess around with such a dangerous individual. “Further south. There’s a small ranch. You’ll know it by the windmill.”
Zach released him and, without another word, turned to leave. He felt rather than heard the man bending down, reaching for the dropped pistol. It came as no surprise. He had expected the rash move, anticipated it, almost wanted it. In a maneuver that was as graceful as it was deadly, Zach spun around and released the dagger he held. The man didn’t even have time to react before the throwaway lodged itself in the middle of his chest. For a moment, Steve’s eyes widened in surprise—they always looked so damn surprised—and his hands fumbled ineptly at the hilt of the knife. Before he could pull it out, his body slumped to the floor in death.
Without a speck of remorse, Zach left him where he’d fallen. He was worried about the Hummer. He’d spent too much time inside the building. Anything could have happened in his absence.
Just as he suspected, the Hummer was not alone. As fortune would have it, there was only one
fuckhead to deal with. The little asswipe was busy painstakingly checking the vehicle over, obviously confused because he couldn’t get the engine started. Zach assessed the area, then the would-be thief. He couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen. It was unusual to find a gang member alone. Maybe he wasn’t a member yet. Maybe this particular heist was his initiation. Whatever the case, he wasn’t going to get what he wanted.
“I’ve killed one today. Don’t make it two,” Zach casually warned as he drew closer.
The boy jerked around in surprise. When he saw the size of the man coming toward him, he
instinctively backed away. He knew imminent death when he saw it. Zach ignored him, just climbed into the Hummer and started the engine.
The boy’s eyes grew round with amazement. “How’d you do that?”
“Magic,” Zach replied. With that, he gunned the engine and left the stunned boy in a cloud of dust.
Zach took the road out of town like a maniac. He didn’t bother to stop or even slow down at the intersections. Once, he nearly ran a woman down, but she managed to get out of the way before he mowed her over. The near miss didn’t even get his adrenaline going. He couldn’t afford to stop at every crossroad, couldn’t afford to waste a single drop of fuel, and the continuous stop-and-go would only burn more of the precious commodity. He wasn’t even sure he had enough to get him to the edge of town, but he wanted to get as far as possible as fast as possible before he ran out of fuel and the solar packs kicked in. The solar packs wouldn’t last long going full tilt, and leaving the Hummer hidden in the woods somewhere wasn’t nearly as risky as leaving it in the middle of a place like Dallas.
He should have never agreed to this hair-brained arrangement to begin with. It had been a mistake from the word go. But he’d promised Serena, and despite the warning in his gut, he would make good on that promise. He would finish his business here, get the fuel, and never look back. He only hoped the long trip was worth it.
Just outside of town, he was still praying that the fuel in his tank would be sufficient to take him the distance when he saw the man. He was hiding behind a clump of bushes alongside the deserted
roadway, but to Zach’s keen eyes he was nakedly visible.
“Serena’s father, I presume,” he muttered.
He veered off the road and drove the Hummer right up to the stand of trees where the man was
crouched. The man seemed startled to realize that he hadn’t been so hidden after all, and even more dismayed when he got a closer look at Zach’s scarred face and renegade appearance.
He was about to bolt and run, but Zach stopped him. “I have word of your daughter.”
The man paused and turned back to give Zach a more appraising look.
“Where’s Steve?” he demanded.
Zach’s answer was deliberately casual. “He met with an unfortunate accident.”
“What sort of accident?” he wanted to know, looking nervous again.
Zach shrugged. “Me.”
The man visibly blanched.
“But it’s your daughter you want to know about, right?” Zach said rather pointedly.
He knew the type. Daughters didn’t mean much. A son was a greater asset, and infinitely less hassle.
Serena’s mother had probably pushed her husband into finding someone to search for the girl. This goon probably hadn’t cared one way or another. He may have even considered it a relief to have one less mouth to feed.
“What would you know about my daughter?” he said suspiciously.
“I’m the man you hired to find her.”
Seemingly unable to formulate a response, the man gulped and stared.
“Get in. I’ll take you back to your ranch.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” the man said, taking a half step backwards.
Zach glanced off into the distance, counted to ten in an attempt to quell his growing impatience, and then turned back to level a serious gaze at the man. When he did finally speak, he couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice. “Look, I traveled a long way to find your daughter and a long way back to bring you word. I’m tired and I’m thirsty. I thought you might be kind enough to fill my canteen with some fresh water, that’s all.”
The man hesitated for a few indecisive minutes and then climbed into the Hummer. Despite the dangers of being hospitable in these tumultuous times, he had apparently concluded that he would do well to offer some hospitality to a man like Zach, a man who looked like he could tangle with a cougar and come out none the worse for wear.
Without another word, Zach pulled the vehicle back onto the dusty road and headed for the ranch. The man gave him directions, his eyes shifting warily, constantly, over the strange man before him. The coward was intimidated by his mere presence. Zach could feel it, and it rankled him.
Thankfully, the ranch wasn’t far away. The Hummer made it into the dirt driveway on little more than fumes. Zach cut the engine before the last dregs of fuel ran through the lines, and then both men climbed out of the vehicle, the other man hasty in his scramble to put some distance between them.
Zach ignored him. He was busy assessing the farmhouse and the outlying area. Out beyond the barn, a windmill churned. The house itself was small, a bit ramshackle, but it was more than what most people had these days. A woman came running out into the yard, followed by a little girl who couldn’t have been more than six or seven. She looked a lot like Serena, and she clung to her mother fearfully, her eyes wide as she stared at Zach.
“Taylor, what’s going on?” the woman called to her husband as she approached.
“This here is the man we hired to find Serena,” Taylor answered, his eyes on Zach. He didn’t go to his wife. Instead, he stood between her and Zach. As if he provided enough barrier to stop him. What a laugh! A fine time to be protecting his family, after his eldest daughter had already been taken, used, and left for dead. Anger like fire coursed through Zach, and he suddenly wanted to rip the man’s head off with his bare hands. Somehow, he managed to control the urge. He needed to keep a level head about him. For now, anyway.
“You found our daughter?” The woman gazed hopefully at Zach’s formidable bulk.
“That I did, ma’am. She’s dead,” he announced without hesitation, his gaze direct and his voice devoid of emotion.
The man, Taylor, staggered to his wife’s side and automatically gathered her into his arms as she collapsed into a pitiful fit of wailing and weeping. They were both obviously quite pained over the news of their daughter’s death, so pained that Zach wondered if he’d misjudged Serena’s father. Maybe he should have told them the truth. But the truth was just as painful. Serena would die. Eventually.
It was better this way. He was protecting them from the ugliest of all realities. He figured the mother would try to do the valiant thing and demand that he bring them their daughter without even
