The Sheriff 2: A post-apocalyptic sci-fi western (Sheriff Duke) by M.R. Forbes

Author:M.R. Forbes [Forbes, M.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29

“Hold up,” Hayden said, putting his hands out to either side to freeze Lincoln and Sweetie, close behind him, in their tracks.

“I hear it,” Sweetie said softly. “Someone’s coming.”

“Cover,” Hayden said, motioning to the trees nearby. He and Lincoln went right, ducking behind another oak. Sweetie broke left, her fatigues changing color, blending more fully with the foliage. The outfit contained a hood Hayden hadn’t noticed earlier. She raised it to hide everything but her face.

They stood there, fixed in place, silently waiting as a minute passed. Another. Hayden closed his eyes to focus his senses on his hearing, listening to the rustle of new leaves and the unmistakable crunch of footsteps in the dead leaves on the ground. Four people moved slowly toward them.

“If they’ve got full tactical command units, they’ve already spotted us,” Hayden whispered to Lincoln. “They might know where we are. Get ready.”

Lincoln turned on the P-90, bringing it into firing position, still crouched. Hayden slowly pulled one of his revolvers along with the microspear, shifting slightly to get to the other side of the large trunk.

The footsteps drew nearer, converging on Hayden and Lincoln’s position. It seemed Sweetie had gotten away clean. Intentionally? Either she had given him her command code, or she had faked the code and was still in thrall to Cassius or to the Custodians. Was that even possible? Hayden wasn’t sold on her just yet. He had gotten caught off-guard too many times—lost too many things he cared about—to trust easily.

“Sheriff Duke,” one of the Custodians said. Hayden judged her amplified voice to be only a few meters away, on the other side of the trunk. “I have you on sensors.”

A small, fragile device dropped from the forest canopy over Hayden’s head. A drone, it had the appearance of a metal dragonfly, with multiple gossamer wings beating to keep it hovering just in front of him.

“You might as well come out,” the woman added.

Hayden smiled at the machine, pretty sure it mounted a camera. “Pozz,” he replied.

“Toss your guns out first. You and Mister Lincoln both.”

“Pozz,” he repeated, tossing the revolver out around the tree and motioning Lincoln to do the same with his rifle.

“And the Axon dagger.”

Hayden had never heard the microspear referenced as a dagger before. He threw it onto the ground near his guns before circling the tree, moving into the open. Lincoln emerged on the other side.

“Hands where we can see them,” the woman said. She was with three others, spaced well apart so they would be hard to drop with a quick burst of fire. Average height and build, her face was difficult to see through the tinted visor of her combat helmet, but Hayden did make out deep set dark eyes.

“Is there any reason you haven’t started shooting yet?” Hayden asked, putting his hands up.

“I wanted to get the Dragonfly in position to record this. It was almost too—”

Her voice cut off as a nearly invisible pellet smashed through the side of her helmet and into her head, half of which exploded inside the headgear a few milliseconds later.

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