Wanted (15 page)

“
She’s had plenty of chances. She fucks up every time,” Carl said, wanting to nip the protests in the bud.

“
What makes you so good that you don’t think she deserves another chance?” Tanya spat out.

“
I ain’t better than anyone,” Carl said, but he left it at that.

“
She’s getting better,” Tanya persisted. “She’s not shaking anymore – she’s gotten past the withdrawal. She wants to be better! Now she’s got no support, no one to help her. No one to remind her not to fall back into her old habits.”

“
She’s had plenty of chances,” Carl reiterated, for the last time. “She can’t do it for herself, she ain’t gonna do it for anyone else. I don’t know what kind of spell she put on you but you best face up to the fact that she’s got poison in her veins and sooner or later it’s going to win out.”

Tanya stared at him, her jaw clenching and unclenching but no words coming out. Finally, she turned and walked stiffly back to the bed she’d been sleeping on. She stripped off his shirt and pants she had been wearing, letting them fall to the floor and not caring that he saw her naked, save for the bandages, then put her clean clothes back on. She turned and walked to the table, staring at it as though she knew what to look for.

“
You too?” He asked.

“
Don’t talk to me,” she snarled. “If you really wanted to help you would. If you really meant it, you’d let us stay and help us get back. I’m sorry we’re such an inconvenience!”

Carl’s eyes widened at the savage tone she used with him. It amused him on one hand, but on the other it felt like a slap in the face. He watched silently as she picked up a pistol and tucked it into her jeans, then grabbed the magazines on the table and put them in her pockets. She hurried to the kitchen and filled up a couple of water bottles, then rushed out the door without looking back.

Carl moved after her, pausing in the doorway to watch her quickly but safely step through the minefield. She slipped around some rocks and over a ridge and was gone, though a few moments later he heard her calling out for her brother and Jessie. He shook his head and sighed, then glanced up at the sun as it was just passing its zenith. Carl stepped back inside, shutting the door behind him, and moved to gather up the weapons that remained on the table.

He had wanted to get rid of Jessie, she was just bad news and sure to poison the kids into doing something stupid. Now he realized he had not acted soon enough. He should have put a bullet through her head when he saw her coming back. He scowled to himself and sat down, lightly punching the table with the bottom of his fist.

He had his place back, complete with its peace and quiet. He was out some food and a few clothes, but he had plenty of them to spare or he could easily replace what was lost. He was better off this way, he told himself. Sooner or later it was just him anyhow, that’s how it always worked out. This way nobody got hurt… or at least not yet. If Jessie got the kids killed, that was off his shoulders now. He’d warned them.

He glanced at his monitor and saw three people moving away to the north east. Higher ground that way, but there were plenty of people who felt they owned it and didn’t take kindly to trespassing. Carl sighed and stood up. He headed to his closet, grabbing his sniper rifle and his trusty M4, then slipped the gilly suit on over his clothes. Maybe his life was better without them, but he could at least shadow them for a while to make sure they were okay.

* * * *

The dry terrain that led into the foothills of the Rocky Mountains was as familiar to Carl as the back of his own hand. He moved quickly and easily from high point to high point, trying to overtake his former charges so he could keep an eye on them. He knew they should be safe for a while, but there were other settlements out there. Places where bands of stragglers and scavengers had gathered.
Built around sources of clean water or other resources, the makeshift towns that had sprung up over the past couple of years were anything but places Carl would recommend sending children to. Dustin and Tanya weren’t really children, he had to admit, but they were young enough and definitely naïve enough to get themselves in trouble real quick in one of the lawless towns.

Carl reflected back on the refugee camps and backwater villages he had seen serving in Iraq and Afghanistan, then later when he had crossed into the private sector and done work in Turkey and Pakistan as well. Things were not so different, he supposed. After all, people were people. In the absence of rules and force, whoever had the force created the rules.

Carl chuckled and shook his head. He could remember his mother telling him as a little boy that violence never solved anything. He felt the reassuring weight of the rifles on his back and wished she was still alive to realize that violence and force were the only solutions that worked.

Still thinking of the similarity between the war torn Middle East and the post-war North America, Carl pulled up short when he cleared a ridge and saw movement far below. He dropped quickly behind a rock and worked his M24 into a ready position. Inching forward, he flipped up the scope covers and peered through it at his target. Sure enough, he counted three targets, Jessie in the lead with Dustin and Tanya following.

Carl observed them silently, watching how both Tanya and Dusty appeared to be making an attempt at keeping a lookout. Both carried weapons, although clumsily. Tanya’s pistol was hanging at her side in her hand, while Dustin kept his shotgun in both hands, but pointed at the ground. Jessie, he was surprised to see, was the most alert. Something must have kicked in for her, he figured, because she was scanning for threats as she moved and even called for a halt while she checked out landmarks that seemed suspicious to her.

Carl watched her move, seeing how her curvy body could sway through the wilderness just as easily as it could shake and jiggle its way into a man’s pants. Such a waste, he figured. With a decent head on her shoulders she could have made something of herself.

He lowered the covers and prepared to hop up and follow them. They had a few hours until they would be coming close to any other settlements. The day promised another four or six hours of light for travelling at least as well. So far the only threat Carl had noted was a pack of coyotes that were upwind and heading into a small canyon, no doubt looking for shade or water.

He began to climb to his feet when he heard something. He paused, not certain if he had heard correctly or not, then silently cursed when the sound came again-a faint rattle behind him. He turned his head slowly, looking back and finding the source of it. His right leg had dislodged some rocks when he went down quickly, disturbing the rattlesnake that had been hiding in the shade underneath of them.

Carl let go of his M24 and counted to three, then threw himself away, whipping his legs around and pulling them towards his chest. The snake struck, launching itself forward with the speed of lightning even as he was trying to escape its reach. He came to a halt, staring at the snake that was now over four feet from him, but realizing that his head was the closest thing to it. He slowly backed away, causing the young snake to hiss at him and make a few short thrusts with an open mouth, but nothing close or truly dangerous.

Carl grabbed his rifle and moved further away, stopping only when he could keep an eye on the snake and be sure he had plenty of time to react in case it were to come after him. Seldom would a snake attack a larger creature unless threatened, but he had already pissed this one off.

Carl, never taking his eyes off the snake for more than brief second, felt his right leg, making sure he had gotten away clean. His hand brushed against something wet on his calf, and that drew an alarmed glance. Almost clear fluid around twin holes on his gilly suit drew a curse from him. Alarmed, he quickly untied his boot and pulled the leg of his pants up. Already the tightness and a growing heat in his leg confirmed the worst for him though. Seeing the angry red bite marks in his calf was the final straw though. Carl swore as the injury became real. He felt the lance of pain shoot out from it, both the twin punctures and the poison working its way into him.

He turned to glare at the snake, then picked up a rock and threw it. The snake slithered away quickly, having been narrowly missed. He watched it go, making certain he did not give it another chance to bite him, then turned back to his injury.

Carl pulled out his knife and tested the edge. He deemed it sharp enough for the job. His next moves were quick and filled with sharp hisses of breath. He slashed at each of the holes, opening them up to fight the swelling that threatened to trap the poison within. He knew better than to even try to suck the poison out – only the most flexible of contortionists would have had a chance. Instead he moved to take the belt off his pants beneath his gilly suit and loop it around his leg, just below the knee. He pulled it as tight as he could then pulled it a little tighter so he could tie it off.

“
A snake?” he asked rhetorically, looking up at the sky. “Is that the best you could do?”

Angry, Carl reclaimed his weapons and, with a last glance at the departing trio, he wished them luck. He turned his back on them then, expecting never to see them again, and began the painful and awkward trek back to his house. He had some anti-venom there, he just hoped it was not too old. Then again, the snake had been young, that meant little control over how much poison it injected. Carl figured he probably had a full dose in him, enough to knock out a horse.

Fighting the urge to hunt the snake down and kill it, Carl opted instead to find the quickest and easiest way back. Time was against him and every beat of his heart was a tick of the clock.

Chapter 10

Breathing harder than he should have, Carl paused after crossing over a once paved road that had fallen into disuse. He considered it part of his land now, even though he seldom went that far. His house was another 30 minutes by foot, but given how much his leg was throbbing and burning, he expected he might need more time. He sat down on a rock and loosened his tourniquet. It scared him to do so, but he knew leaving it tied tightly for more than 10 or 15 minutes at a time would do more damage than good. He was already pushing it waiting that long.

Less than a minute later, he wrenched the belt tight again and lurched to his feet. His foot was now on fire from the poison and tingling with renewed circulation. He reopened the bite every time and tried to squeeze out the tainted blood, but he knew what he’d be saying if he had to perform the battlefield triage on anyone else. Fortunately for him, there was nobody else around to point that out.

He started across the barren landscape again, dodging around the more dangerous looking obstacles and using the more benign, natural decorations to help him make his way. Sweat ran down his face and his heart was racing, all signs of bad things happening to his body. Better that it was racing, he figured, then slowing down. Still, racing meant the poison moved faster through his body. Now he felt like he was racing against his own heart.

He stumbled and paused a few minutes later when he heard a distant thump. Trying to stifle his noisy breathing he listened, ear cocked to the west. He heard another explosive whump and he knew what was happening. His minefield. His home was being invaded. Carl snarled out a curse and moved forward, forgetting his concerns about the snake bite and its effects. Instead he focused only on how irritated he was at how the injury slowed him.

Dizzy, short of breath, and drenched in his own sweat, Carl moved through the parking spot where he had hidden Jessie’s car a few days ago. He had his M4 in hand, relying on his instincts to save him in case his other faculties failed. He had heard a short burst of automatic fire at one point, but aside from that, there was nothing amiss to be heard for several minutes. He moved up a narrow ravine littered with loose rocks, slipping in places he knew he would never have stepped under normal circumstances. He stopped only when he came to the spot where he had carefully concealed his bolt hole.

Wasting no time, he cleared away the dirt and rocks concealing it, then lifted off the metal door . It was heavier than he remembered it being, making him wonder if that was due to exhaustion or poisoning. He pushed the thought aside and slid into the passage, crawling along it into the darkness. After what seemed an eternity, he emerged into a room that was pitch black aside from the faint light that spilled in from the crawlspace.

Carl stood up and felt along the wall until he found a switch. He flicked it and blinked at the sudden light that filled the small, subterranean room. Along one wall were shelves lined with banks of batteries. Cables ran from them up to the ceiling and into conduit, where they either ran to provide power or to obtain power from wind turbines and solar cells. He leaned his M24 up against a cabinet and moved to a reinforced steel door. He listened at it carefully, then killed the lights in the room before opening it.

More light spilled into the opening, this time from above. It was a ladder set against the rock, with steel supports hammered into the rock to hold it in place. Carl froze, knowing that if there was light above, it had been discovered. Sure enough as he looked up he saw a man descending the staircase towards him. He still had a dozen feet to go, and had not looked down to see the suddenly open door.

Wasting only a few seconds to stare upwards, Carl confirmed a second man was descending above the first. While he could not make out details, they looked to be wearing similar clothing to the Maelstrom rent-a-cops he had taken out the other day. He wondered if they were stupid enough to send another squad of four men or if they had learned and this time an entire regiment was waiting for him.