The Day After Never - Perdition (Book 6) by Russell Blake

Author:Russell Blake [Blake, Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Reprobatio, Ltd.
Published: 2017-05-08T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

Colorado Foothills

Luis called out from his position guarding the trading post gate, and Duke looked up from where he was splitting wood with an axe, sweat coursing down his bare chest in spite of the crisp snap in the spring air.

“One man, quarter mile out.”

Duke hollered for John, who came at a trot with an AR-15 in hand and a cowboy hat pulled low, and threw on a faded lumberjack shirt as he made his way toward the sandbagged guard station beside the gate. Luis raised his assault rifle and looked through the scope for a long beat, and then lowered it slowly and turned toward Duke.

“He’s got a face full of ink. Didn’t you say there was a Crew guy over this way just after we opened?”

“That’s right,” Duke agreed. “Before the winter really hit.”

“Muscular?”

“Right. Bullet head, no neck.”

Luis took another look. “Sounds like our man.”

Duke’s forehead creased. “Can’t believe he hasn’t given up by now. It’s been months.”

“The Crew doesn’t give up. Getting even’s in their blood.”

Duke regarded Luis’s facial tattoos. “Maybe you should get out of sight. We don’t want to give the nice man any ideas about where you got your tats.”

“Think you two can handle this without me?” Luis asked with a smirk.

“We’ll try to muddle through,” John quipped, his attention on the rider approaching at a moderate pace.

“Go into the back, but keep your gun handy,” Duke said. “Although you shouldn’t need it.”

“Famous last words,” Luis said, standing.

John replaced him behind the sandbags, and several minutes later the rider was twenty yards from the gate. Duke opened a hatch in the metal barrier and looked out.

“Howdy,” Dale called. “You open for business?”

“Always,” Duke replied. “Got to leave your weapons at the gate, though.”

“That’s fine,” Dale replied, and dismounted, his AK suspended from his shoulder by a weathered strap.

Duke replaced John, his AR-15 trained on the Crew scout, while the younger man heaved the gate open wide enough for Dale’s horse to make it through and relieved him of his rifle and pistol. Dale led his steed to a water trough in the courtyard, and the animal drank greedily. Duke trailed him and John closed the gate before resuming his position, only now facing inward with his rifle resting easily against one of the sandbags, pointed above their heads.

“Water for the horse is a round. If you want some feed, we can rustle some up for a couple more,” Duke said.

“He scrounges plenty of scrub on the trail. Lot of green now that spring’s here,” Dale said.

Duke squinted at him. “Haven’t I seen you before?”

“That’s right. Stopped in a while back. You’d just opened.”

“Thought so. You settle around here? Haven’t been here since, have you?”

“No on both. Still riding the trail.”

“A hard life.”

“There’s worse.” Dale looked around the courtyard. “Still getting by?”

“Can’t really complain. We see enough traffic to put food on the table, but nobody’s getting rich. And it’s a bit better now that winter’s through. That was brutal.”

“No word on that new settlement?”

Duke didn’t blink.

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