Vile Wasteland (A Post Apocalyptic Novel) Read online

  She shifted closer to him, picking at the food hungrily as they spoke, "Awesome. How long you think it’s gonna take? Can I help? I mean, I can spot my bag a mile away, and I’d love to get revenge on that asshole that took it."

  Even in the sweet moment between them, she noticed there were eyes upon them. Especially as the serving woman came by and gave her a pointed look. Grent was known here, as she put it, and he was not known–it seemed–to share company. The fact he had his arm around her and was sharing his food seemed something very noteworthy.

  Pushing the fresh basket of wings and fried vegetable flakes to her, he took a sip of his drink and pondered. "Hard to say how long," he began, though the furrow in his brow showed he was considering her urgent nature. "I’ll go right away though to scout it out, so I don’t waste time."

  Looking back to her he sized her up, a faint smile forming, "You really feel up to a scouting mission on the Viles’ home turf?" He was obviously pleased by her offering, though the seasoned fighter was cautious. "You’ve had a run in with them, but you’ve only gotten a glimpse of how horrible they can be, Alex," he warned, not trying to dissuade her, but showing concern.

  "We won’t be fighting, just checking things out, right? I mean, there might be some fighting, but it’s not like we’re going to be running in guns blazing. I’m pretty good at that," she said confidently. "Probably better at that than I would be fighting them. Besides, you can fill me in, right? And I’ll stay within your line of sight, but I don’t want you watching me and not them, alright?" She didn’t want him getting hurt because of her. "Won’t let our emotions fuck us up, right?" her voice was stern.

  Grent’s broad face seemed on the verge of breaking out into a wide smile. She could tell he loved the idea of sharing his work with her, at the same time it made him worry.

  Leaning over he kissed her forehead, "You’re on a timer, right? So we don’t have a lot of time to debate this out," he devoured another chicken wing then washed it down as well. "I’m gonna set out in a couple hours." He looked back to her, "You got the stomach for that? Only gonna give us enough time to make sure you’re properly outfitted, then we’ll be gone for a couple days at least. Through the most dangerous territory around. I can’t guarantee your safety. Can’t guarantee my own."

  "‘Course," she agreed. "Just," she paused, her eyes going up to his and staying focused there, "Hey, listen, when I told you about the group that saved me, well, they helped me get here. They said they’d keep me with them and whatever. But I’m going to take off with you and the leader isn’t going to like that. I’m going to return their rifle though because I mean... they saved me so whatever, I don’t want to part on bad terms. They just can’t help me past here."

  Soaking in her words, that old, slowly calculating look of his returned. Looking to her rifle he asked, "If you like it, I’ll offer to buy it for you. You’ll need a gun if you’re coming with me, after all." His large hand rubbed over her shoulder and bicep, "I know the gun merchants and caravaneers around here well enough anyhow. Should be able to talk them into a decent price, even now."

  "They just made a deal for, I guess, a really good price. So I don’t know about that. They... want me along, so..." she admitted a bit bashfully, her face turning red before she shook away the shame. "Fuck, look. It’s not like they were going to tote me along for free, so I did what I had to and now I want out. I want to help you."

  His brow furrowed, the look on his face one of confusion; a rare sight for the calm man. "Well... you haven’t made a contract, right? You can get out of it and come with me? If not, well..." he shrugged, "I’ll come with you and offer to buy you out of your commitment. Either way, we don’t have a lot of time to waste if we’re gonna get on this for your people," he cautioned.

  "No contract. They said I can go. I just don’t really trust them," she nuzzled her nose against his earlobe. "I just want you to come with me."

  With a warm smile he nodded and gave the corner of her lips a kiss, "Of course. We’ll make it quick. So eat up! Get some food in you, because we’ve got a long, hard road ahead. I don’t make it easy," he warned with a grin, seemingly lost in his head thinking of the journey ahead as some romantic getaway rather than a deathly urgent mission.

  She nodded, "Just let me deal with them but if they look like they’re gonna get rough with me, help me out, alright? I barely know these guys and they don’t seem the type but... I don’t know, I met them before I met you so the standards were different," she complimented him even as she went back to devouring her food.

  "So, how do I best kill a vile, huh? Apparently cracking in their nose and groin works."

  Grent gave a hearty chuckle to that, apparently finding it amusing and accurate enough not to say anymore on it. Finishing the rest of his food he tidied up his hands, "You’ll do just fine with that attitude. And the rest you’ll learn along the way. It’s a good day’s journey from here with the way I’ll be takin’ us. The safe and sneaky way," he gave her a bit of a wink from the corner of his eyes.

  "Alright, boss. I’m all yours," she grinned as she pushed away the remains of her food, feeling that uncomfortable fullness once more. "So... did you happen to find me a jacket? Hate to be caught in the rain like this. Probably a bag... Got my knife and hopefully this rifle. What else?"

  Giving her another kiss he got up and pulled his own jacket from the hook, the thing using some sort of camouflage, it fit around him well. "We’ll go get you that jacket and supplies once we sort out the business with this gang you got hooked up with," he said, smiling to her. "C’mon, let’s go. Lives are hangin’ in the balance here."

  She scooted out, grabbing the gun, "Fuck, finally. Wish I had been able to track my bag right then and there but no one ever told me what was out here. Not like that, not like them."

  Chapter 11

  Heading back out into the busy afternoon streets, she had to tell him where he was. "Ah, the old caravan station," he replied, knowing the place.

  He guided her there without issue, though she saw Bren standing outside by a warehouse section. The man caught sight of her first and waved Jarago out, the two men watching her approach with Grent at her side with some trepidation.

  "I got this," she smiled and moved ahead, looking over the two and trying to remain friendly. "Hey," she stopped a few feet, her rifle at her side, "I found this guy. The leader said he was sending him in to find the vile that took my stuff, and I’m going to go with but... I wanted to let you guys know and hopefully buy the gun off you."

  Grent looked imposing a couple meters behind her, though Jarago stepped forward undaunted, crossing his arms and looking from that man to her. "We had a deal," he said in a voice that sounded like it was trying to be quiet, but not quiet enough that it couldn’t be heard by all those involved.

  "You said I could go and that you just hoped I’d stick around. You never paid me anything and I didn’t even ask despite the fact that I still put in a day of work. If I stick with you, I’m going to have to wait weeks to maybe make enough and maybe get back soon enough that I’m not going back to a bunker of corpses," she spoke confidently, completely sure of herself.

  "Fuck, it’s not like you’re bad guys, and if I wasn’t in a rush I might stick around, but right now I gotta save these people, alright?"

  Jarago looked a bit flustered, the dark man appearing as if he were about to snap back with something. Instead though he stepped in closer to her and leaned in. She could hear Grent shift behind her, not liking his proximity to the woman. "But you haven’t paid up all the way," he said in a whisper, "sure I said you could go, but you had to please me. And my buddy," he said jerking his head over his shoulder, "you got me. But you still owe him."

  At that, Jarago’s eyes slipped back over to Grent, it was hard for her to read the expression, but the caravaneer looked almost cocky.

  "You said maybe. If he figured it out. Besides, fuck, we’ll run into each other again, I’m sure. Once you guys get back in town or wh
atever," she whispered back. "This is life or death, and I never fucking had to tell you. I’m trying to be good to you, alright?"

  Her words didn’t mollify the man, instead he looked incensed. "What? You fucked this guy too and now you’re not interested in us anymore?" Jarago gave a derisive look, "What the hell did this guy promise you? That he’ll storm in like a one-man army and beat ‘em all on his lonesome?" He snorted at the absurdity of it.

  "No, he said he’d stake it out and see how many people he needed to storm the place. Jarago," she said his name in a very stern manner. "You took me to see the town leader, and he told me I could either become a concubine or talk to this guy. I’m going to save the bunker with or without your blessing."

  "Well fine," Jarago threw up his hands, "but you aren’t gettin’ that gun cheap," he said. Then pointing a finger at Grent he said, "Don’t count on her stickin’ around after she gets what she wants out of you, buddy. I saved her life and we got it on. In return she fucks me," he declared, having lost all appropriateness as he turned and stormed back to Bren.

  Behind her Grent was unmoving, his nostrils flared and his eyes hard. The man looked terrifyingly angry, his gaze looking like it could’ve cut through Jarago on its own.

  She looked to Bren, seeming a bit more apologetic in her gaze to him before her hard eyes went back to Jarago, "I could have kept it, you know. I didn’t have to come back here."

  The caravan leader’s ego was obviously bruised, and as he leaned back against the warehouse wall, his arms folded, he looked defiant.

  The silence was interrupted by the clink of a bag of credits being tossed at the man’s feet. "Let’s go," Grent said, not waiting to discuss the matter any further, instead just turning and leaving. Apparently the heft of the satchel must’ve been enough to satisfy them, because neither Bren or Jarago uttered any protest.

  She trailed after Grent before running to catch up, matching his fast pace rather easily despite their size difference, "Fuck, I’m so glad you were there. And really sorry at the same time."

  The large man didn’t say much, but he led her on towards the market street again. As they neared a shop he reached over, putting a hand at her shoulder blade, "You’ll need a good travel jacket. Something that’ll keep you warm at night, but that breaths," he looked down to her. "C’mon, your people don’t have a lot of time for more nonsense."

  Without delay he took her in to peruse the shops wares.

  When they left, only a bit of time had passed. She had been exceptionally quick to put together her survival kit, ensuring they had bandages and water, and her new jacket was far less attractive and far more practical for what they were going to do. She kept taking excuses to touch him, her hand grazing against his as she ordered what she needed, but she wasted no time.

  When she got the last of what she needed, he excused himself to get his own things from the inn. When he returned he was looking almost like another man. His hair was tied back in a ponytail, a heavy pack over his shoulders and strapped around his torso, gun at the ready and a serious expression. "We’ve only got a few more hours of travel left before we’ll have to stop," he explained, taking her out of town without delay. "We’ll make some time at night, I know the way well enough, and it’ll help hide our approach at least."

  Her own hair had been tied up and stuffed under a dark green beanie, hiding the long, beautiful tresses and helping to conceal her a bit. Not only that but she purposefully bought a light sweater and the jacket about a size too big, giving her a boyish figure. She’d remembered all too well what the Viles did, and she obviously felt a bit less vulnerable when she didn’t look like an attractive young woman. Her own hunting knife was strapped to her hip and her gun was in her hands as she kept pace.

  When they were away from town and heading up the light slope of the valley towards, but just eastwards, of their destination he stopped a moment. Resting his gun down he took a look around then turned to her. Resting his hands on her shoulders he bent down on one knee, "Alex, I wanna ask somethin’ about back there," he said in his gravelly voice.

  She flinched, her eyes staring at him intently, "Go for it."

  His look was firm, but a bit troubled as he eyed her. "You know you don’t gotta do anything for my help, right? If you spat in my face now and told me it was all just a lie, I’d still go on and do what I said." His brows relaxed, unfurrowing slightly.

  "Yea, you proved that," her look softened as she moved towards him. "Look, those guys were selfish assholes. At first I thought you might be like them, but you aren’t. I know that."

  Nodding to her slowly he said, "When this is done, and we help your folk... I wanna chance at being with you. For good, I mean." Clearing his throat a bit he squeezed her shoulders, "I know it’s sudden, but I believe you, and I trust you." The large, collected man seemed to have trouble getting to what he really wanted to say, even she could see that.

  She smiled, but her eyes drifted from him as she cleared her throat. "Look. You weren’t my first. I said that ‘cause I was scared you’d be like him and that maybe if I said it, you’d back off. He didn’t, I don’t know why I thought it’d work on you if you were like him, but then... you did just what I hoped. You backed off, and were still awesome. I wished it wasn’t that ass, and the fact that it was really, really sucks for me."

  After just telling her he believed and trusted her, the oddly timed confession seemed to send him for a loop.

  With a furrowed brow he looked away, then rose up. Taking one hand away from her, he squeezed her shoulder. "C’mon," he said, his voice soft, or as soft as his hard way of talking ever got, "we’re wastin’ time here that your people don’t got."

  At that he took off at his brisk pace again, over the grassy ground towards the ridge that ran along the whole of the valley.

  Her stomach churned, but she was exceptionally diligent as she followed him, her eyes cautious no matter where they went, always on the lookout for danger. Still, she stuck close to him and she tried to keep her voice low, "So where you think they’re gone to?"

  Grent preferred to travel in silence it seemed, which only made sense with the mission they were undertaking, but he answered her in a low voice. "Back to their hive. New Atlantia," he said, pointing off towards the white mass of circular and oval colony buildings that looked so deceptively civilized from this distance. "The only place they’d go."

  She nodded, thinking on it before allowing them to continue on in silence, her thoughts roiling. Why was she so hooked on this guy anyways? He was just a guy, and someone twice her age, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t had men be nice to her before. Marim was always nice to her. But Grent… She wondered if she was falling for him too.

  Still, she tried to push the thoughts away, focusing instead on what mattered - her people. Finding her stuff. Saving them.

  They made a fast pace, but the route Grent took them in definitely slowed them for this portion, taking them almost as much away from their target as towards it. Though as night fell and she found herself having to adjust to the moonlight for travel, the path only got worse. Rocks started to litter the way, hindering progress forward.

  Her sneakers helped her find them, though she kept scuffing her toes more loudly than she had during the day, and she kept having to mentally curse herself to remain silent. Fear was rising in her and she became less certain of her own abilities, her eyes glancing around more desperately.

  Looking back to her and noticing her issues, Grent cautioned, "Step careful, but don’t scuff. Scuffing leaves an obvious trail." With a deep intake of breath he offered, "And on the Viles..." returning to the topic from their lunch, "if you gotta fight ‘ em, they go down like anyone. Shoot ‘em from a distance, go for the torso." He was in instruction mode now, his voice filling the quiet night air. "Unless you’re an excellent shot, goin’ for the head is a waste. They don’t stand still. And once they’re up in your face, you’re better off hittin’ ‘em with your gun than takin’ a shot."

 
; She nodded, her steps growing wider and longer, apparently learning quickly. "Thanks," she whispered.

  The lessons continued on for another couple hours before the veteran mercenary came to a halt beneath a small overhang. Moving in she could see it made an excellent spot to avoid being seen, but would allow them to see down the slope at anyone coming. "The sunrise’ll hit us first thing in the morning to wake us up," he explained, unclasping his backpack and settling in.

  She didn’t want to admit it, but she was exhausted. The constant walking, on top of her fear, was agony. She wanted to feel safe out here with him, but she knew she couldn’t – and shouldn’t. She was even starting to understand how he could eat so much as she let her own backpack down gingerly. "So I guess you’ve done this a lot, huh?"

  Down on one knee he began unpacking. Removing a thick sleeping bag he nodded to her, "All the time," he said. The ground beneath the overhang was soft and comfortable, and the bag unrolled smoothly before he then took out some food. "Spend more time out here than in towns," he added.

  "Like it?" she asked, seeming quite curious, if not affectionate. She was so close to him as she unpacked her own things, looking at the food ravenously, "I mean. You seemed at home there."

  The sleeping bag was large, big enough for two of them, and he sat back on it opening a plastic bag full of dried meats and vegetables. Reaching over to her, he put a hand on her waist and pulled her in to him. "I only feel at home out here," he said huskily in response.

  It was a strange thing. When he pulled her in, it was as though he could feel the tension in her muscles dissolve, and she pushed back against him so eagerly, her arms wrapping around him as she plucked out a dried vegetable, "I’m so fucking hungry."

  Rubbing his hand over her side he began to eat as well. It was a hefty sized sack, but the dried nature required him to eat slower than normal. "You and me both," he responded, his back to the smooth stone of the cliff behind him.