The Day After Never - Covenant (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 3) by Russell Blake

The Day After Never - Covenant (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 3) by Russell Blake

Author:Russell Blake [Blake, Russell]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Reprobatio, Ltd.
Published: 2016-07-13T04:00:00+00:00


Chapter 32

Night had fallen hours earlier, but the temperature was still broiling, and the heat radiating from the hard-packed dirt sapped Lucas of energy with every mile. Tango had performed valiantly, but Lucas had wrung about as much out of the stallion as he dared, and had slowed to a leisurely clip as the sun had crested and begun its steady descent. He estimated he’d covered fifty-five miles, though couldn’t confirm his impression, there being no obvious landmarks.

He was using the night vision monocle as he rode; the light from the stars was dim, a high striation of clouds blurring their glow and making their faint illumination untrustworthy for navigation. By his reckoning, he would come across Sierra and the guide at any moment, and in spite of his fatigue, a buzz of adrenaline coursed through his veins at the thought.

Lucas hadn’t arrived at any monumental conclusions as to how he’d handle Sierra when he found her, but he figured that the likeliest straight answer he would get would be from Tarak, who’d performed as requested at every step of their journey and would have no reason to mislead him. That he couldn’t trust Sierra wore at him, but he was an adult, and in his line of work he’d seen everything, so he was no stranger to dishonesty. That he had to be on the defense against someone for whom he had feelings was immaterial.

A hint of wood smoke wafted on the breeze from the south, and he slowed to a crawl. He sniffed the air like a tracking dog and, when he was sure he hadn’t imagined the odor, drew Tango to a halt and dismounted.

He listened with his head cocked, ears straining for the slightest sound, but could make out nothing but the rush of the river and the occasional low whistle of the faint wind through desiccated branches. After several minutes of standing motionless, he tied Tango to one of the stunted trees and crept along the trail, staying away from the river in the hopes that he could surprise Tarak and Sierra.

When he arrived at a thicket of tall bushes, he blinked at the sight of a small fire flickering near the river. His heart skipped when he spotted a collection of sleeping forms around it – six that he could make out. He swept the area with the monocle and froze at the sight of Sierra, sitting up, back to a log, eyes closed. Lucas squinted through the scope but couldn’t make out enough detail to identify who the men surrounding her were, or why she wasn’t also lying on her bedroll.

He set the monocle down and lifted his M4 to his shoulder, the high-power NV scope on, and peered at Sierra. In its high magnification he could make out the odd angle of her arms and realized that they were tied behind her back. The crosshairs drifted down to her legs, and he spotted rope binding her ankles, confirming his deduction.

Lucas eyed the sleeping forms, noting their weapons lying where they could get to them in an instant.



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