Badlands: A Post-Apocalyptic Journey by Nathan Jones

Author:Nathan Jones [Jones, Nathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-08-13T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Final Goodbyes

Tom saw no sign of the bandits returning as he hiked south for over an hour to where the abandoned convoy waited for him.

In fact, the attackers had been so eager to get going they'd even left their dead behind, or maybe just hadn't cared enough to take them along. Although of course they'd looted the bodies beforehand and righted the flipped ATV to take with them.

The bandits' complete lack of sentimentality gave Tom the impression they probably wouldn't be coming back. Even so he continued to strain his ears listening for their engines as he approached the circled wagons.

The first thing to take care of was dealing with the bodies of Brad and the other two wounded convoy members who'd been so callously executed. He didn't consider himself particularly sentimental, but he did believe in giving folks a proper burial.

It was the least you could do.

Unfortunately this particular stretch of land was mostly gritty dirt over slickrock and burial wasn't really an option. The best he could think of was to drag the bodies into some semblance of an orderly line, then once he had them arranged cover them over with a canvas tarp from one of the wagons, weighing it down with rocks.

It was hard to look at the faces of people he'd known, even if just as traveling companions, whose lives had been so brutally cut short. He spent several minutes standing beside Brad's body, giving the man a respectful sendoff. He'd got the distinct impression the man hadn't liked him any more than his friend Simon did, and to be honest given a choice he probably would've preferred to spend his time with other people, too.

But he was still one of the men in the convoy Tom had spent the most time with, and he had respected the man's drive and determination as Simon's second in command.

“There was nothing I could do,” he said into Brad's blankly accusing stare before gently closing his eyes. His vision blurred for a moment and he savagely swiped his sleeve across his face.

Too late he remembered the buckskin, like most of his shirt, hair, and beard, was caked with dried blood from the bandit he'd killed. He'd tried to clean himself up as best he could in his lookout spot before the bandits began their search, well aware of how horrifying he must look to Kristy and Skyler, but without a source of water he couldn't do much.

Cursing softly to himself, Tom hurried to cut the tarp off a wagon and began searching for rocks and debris from the convoy to weigh it down. Once finished with that he stepped back and bowed his head to give the dead a final moment of respectful silence, wishing he could've done more for them. Even this far out in the badlands scavengers would soon be along to go after the bodies.

All part of nature, he knew, but it wasn't pleasant to think about.

He just hoped he, Kristy, and Skyler would

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