The Killin' Fields (Alexa's Travels Book 2) Read online

  “Last time,” Edward warned. “What do you want?”

  They carried their guns on the outside of their coats and their hats were slanted low to hide scheming faces. These were bounty hunters and Edward was glad of it. These hired guns usually ran alone, which meant there wouldn’t be a squad of soldiers setting up an ambush. That comes later, Edward thought. He was beginning to filter things like Alexa did, and come up with her answers. It was exhilarating.

  Randolph had been relying on Paul’s darts and the fear of his reputation to make descendants cower before him. He respected only his main target, and even that was the barest.

  “We’re Visiting.”

  The hunters snickered and Edward felt offended. “You’ll die first.”

  Randolph hadn’t bothered to scan the single large tree behind Alexa’s men. No one used them anymore because of the rashes caused by the mold. He spit a wad of nasty juice at Edward’s boots as the other bounty hunters sneered and leered.

  “Where’s your leader, little man?”

  “Don’t talk to him like that!”

  Paul’s order brought snorts from the bounty hunters.

  Randolph held up a hand. “I’m sorry, Rabbit. Perhaps you’d like to answer the question?”

  Alexa’s men exchanged angry glances. They knew him on sight. Who the hell was this loud scientist she’d allowed along?

  “Yes, I will,” Paul responded coldly. “She’s in the tree.”

  Alexa’s colts crashed as the three men finally spotted her.

  She hit Randolph in the throat, sending him to his knees with hands coming up for futile protection. Her next two shots came so close together that there wasn’t hardly a pause, and neither of Randolph’s men got off a shot. Not coming into the camp with their guns already drawn had hurt them.

  “Amazing,” Jacob swore softly as the bodies slid to the ground.

  “Agreed,” Edward admired, going to the large cottonwood tree she was still perched in. Alexa had showed them how to grind the bone dust and make a lotion that they’d only had to aply once. “Good morning.”

  Alexa rolled her eyes, scanning her men, the bodies, and then the corn as she reloaded. She also noted Paul’s satisfied face.

  “Climb up and snooze. My shots will echo.”

  Realizing more threats might be forthcoming; her men quickly gathered their things and cleared the ground of prints so that it would appear they had vanished. Being able to use the trees was an advantage they loved having.

  Alexa wasn’t sure if anyone else would come. Those waiting might assume their men had won and expect them to return. If so, they could sleep for a while longer. The last ten days of traveling with Paul had been tiring.

  2

  An hour later, Alexa had them moving again and the fighters searched expectantly for the next signs of trouble. It was in the clouds that roiled over them, in the stalks that moaned an ominous accompaniment to their boots. Paul was the only one who didn’t notice it, but even he was quieter than usual. Edward knew it was from Alexa taking blood and kept his anger to himself. He didn’t like Paul at all.

  The path they were on gradually grew wide enough for three of them side-by-side, and Alexa signaled them into the protection formation, but the random stalks still required the group to keep stepping out of their line. None of them cared for that. The symmetry Alexa had taught them was sinking in, becoming a natural reaction, and they disliked anything that interfered with staying close to their special leader.

  Alexa held up a hand. Wait.

  Her group stopped, and Edward had to snatch Paul by his coat when he didn’t.

  Paul jerked away and went to stand behind Alexa.

  All the other men frowned.

  Alexa sniffed the air and each man heard her stomach growl. They caught the scent a moment later and grimaced with the memories. It was a Thanksgiving dinner or a bakery or a fresh market-an aroma of the old world. It was in the giant’s blood, the corn stalks, and the grit in the sky. It was heaven and hell.

  Alexa told them to pull their bandanas up and each of them did, but not before inhaling deeply of that sweet scent, hoping to carry it with them.

  Alexa started moving again, feeling her nerves wake, her senses come alive with need. It wasn’t exactly hunger and it certainly wasn’t sexual, but it tempted just the same. She wanted to remove her bandana and stop, stay here and inhale for hours and hours of that…

  Alexa snapped around to find only two of her men in sight, both doing exactly what she’d been daydreaming about.

  Alexa whistled loudly and the sound of running boots came. The other five men, Paul over Edward’s shoulder again, ran into view. Mark and Daniel were retying their wetted bandanas in place. It was the proper response, the one they’d been taught.

  “Good idea,” Paul commented, clumsily doing his own.

  Alexa tried not to be encouraged by him. Paul was a sacrifice and worse, deep down he knew it. His attempts to fit in were for naught.

  They traveled steadily east for the next hours and the smell grew stronger. It swirled into their noses through the cloth, still pungent enough to cause stumbles and grumbles.

  Alexa wasn’t worried yet. That would come later, when it was needed. Right now, she kept them moving, occasionally making sure they were all still together. Wandering off into this massive cornfield wouldn’t come to any good.

  Their lunch stop was dried meat and fruit, and both tasted like dust compared to the smell of the air. None of them ate much.

  “Do you know what it is?” Jacob asked.

  “Yes,” Alexa answered, tone implying there was danger.

  “Well?” Paul insisted, and then cringed down when Edward glowered at him.

  “A death-maker is nearby.”

  Alexa let out a sound of barely restrained impatience at the stares. “They make the undead. That smell lures people in.”

  “You mean the walking dead,” Jacob caught on as he noticed her face growing stern. “And we need to deal with it?”

  “Yes. This path goes by one of them and you already know how I feel about going around.”

  Her men checked gear, and Alexa lowered her bandana. “Follow the smell.”

  “Good,” Edward approved. “I miss hunting something strong enough to be a real challenge.”

  “So do I,” Mark teased. “But not the way you mean. I hunt indoors.”

  Both men shared leers of excitement and Paul stared at them in fear.

  Alexa sent Edward his way and the horseman’s good mood vanished like the dusk.

  “You ever hunt anything?”

  “No,” Paul admitted, and Edward growled in frustration. He wouldn’t be able to lead the hunt while babysitting Paul. He’d been robbed of another adventure, another moment of proving himself to Alexa, thanks to the Rabbit.

  It was a sullen group that began to track their prey, with Paul and Edward in the rear.

  3

  The pungent odor quickly grew stronger and the men found their thoughts wandering until Alexa had them put their bandanas again on to clear their minds a little. The scent was overpowering, mouth-watering, and it was easy to understand how a starving or weary traveler would be lured in. The smell promised a warm hearth and friendly company.

  Alexa put them into a line and carefully made her way through the black brambles that sprang up where none should have been. The thick thorns were designed to draw blood, to weaken, but Alexa and her men were dressed for the road and passed through unharmed. Paul, who’d been given an outfit much like her fighters wore, still managed to scratch his hands.

  The fighters reached a small clearing where there were no brambles or corn, and they all knelt down on the perimeter when Alexa motioned them to.

  A moment later, a woman shuffled into view.

  She was short and gory, a recent convert to undead, and the empty eyes sent chills over Alexa’s men.

  Thinking fast, Edward slapped a hand over Paul’s mouth, not giving him the chance to
make noise.

  The woman slid into the shadows of the corn on the opposite side of the clearing. When the next stiff figure came through and there was no attack order, and then three more zombies behind it, they understood the walking dead wasn’t Alexa’s target.

  “Hunting for me?”

  They swiveled in time to be hit with a blast of something blue that sent the two front fighters them flying into the corn and knocked the others to the ground.

  The wizard had once been a man-perhaps one who’d enjoyed dressing up and going to comic con. His pocket protector and faded fantastic-four shirt were at extreme odds with the hatred and magic coming from dead black eyes. The fighters noted his gray skin was marked with brown spots that appeared to be decaying flesh. He was also becoming undead.

  On her ass between rows, Alexa sent her own blur of flames and it knocked the tall, thin man to the ground. He immediately rose and vanished.

  “Over here, little toys,” the wizard taunted, reappearing. He was behind them all for a second and then gone when Edward lunged.

  Already tired of the game, Alexa quickly estimated where the wizard would reappear and was there to have one of her guns at his temple when he solidified.

  The man threw up his wrinkled hands in defense, shocked at her victory, and missed Mark coming up behind him.

  Alex met Mark’s gaze for a brief second, gave a curt nod.

  Mark reached out, grabbed the wizard’s head, and snapped his neck.

  The zombies in the corn moaned in furious rage, drawn their way as the body fell and they tried to rush Alexa’s group for vengeance. A large zombie wearing overalls and only one cowboy boot swung out and snatched Jacob’s arm, mouth opening. The preacher brought his K-bar down on the man’s neck as he jerked himself out of the way, and the corn rained red.

  “Level three blades,” Alexa ordered.

  Paul watched in awful comprehension as the fighters grinned and pulled out ugly weapons long-stained with use. Each of them had something different. Edward and Alexa had serrated grass whips, while Jacob and Daniel preferred curved-blade clearing axes. The other two had landscape sickles with long handles and sharp edges. The shuffling, moaning zombies didn’t stand a chance of escaping the fight and as expected, they didn’t try.

  Alexa swung, sliced, ducked and switched to the next monster, but inside, it hurt her to end these former humans. They’d been people once and she hadn’t forgotten that.

  Paul stayed down and still, hoping not to have to fight, but the undead always preferred easy prey. It was usually the elderly or the kids they attacked to make up for slow wits and even slower reflexes.

  A cold, hard hand brushed Paul’s hair and he scrambled forward to avoid it, screaming.

  The zombie was mostly a skeleton under a checkered dress and Paul continued to scream as she crawled toward him on her remaining knee.

  Daniel and Billy had hands and teeth lunging for their ankles, and the two men stabbed their knives down into skulls and necks. They went to help Alexa, and found five undead corpses at her feet. Edward and Mark were right behind her, handling the half-dozen targets that had tried a rear ambush.

  Gore splattered over the corn, soaking into the ground under the group, and the zombies dwindled to random figures that the group quickly dispatched to the afterlife, all vaguely aware of Paul screaming behind them.

  As the fight finished, Alexa and her men scanned the corn and the battlefield for more threats.

  “Damn.”

  They all turned in surprise at Jacob’s curse.

  Paul had ended a zombie, in his own lap. His computer, which he’d refused to leave, was in pieces. He had used it to shatter the zombie’s skull and save himself.

  “Well, ain’t that interesting,” Mark drawled snidely. He quickly reloaded. “Now if he would only learn to be quiet!” The convict spat toward the shaking scientist. “You’re screaming would have brought all of them to us if there had been a herd. You’re gonna keep endangering her, Rabbit.”

  “Stop.” Alexa didn’t offer Paul comfort, but she halted the coming fight. She was also surprised that the scientist was alive after all the screaming they’d heard, but fate was fate and she wasn’t going to second-guess her own choices. It was a sign though, that he wasn’t supposed to die yet, and she motioned Edward to care for him as they got set to leave.

  While she waited, Alexa ripped the talisman from the wizard’s bloody robe and shoved it into her cloak. She knew her men were curious about the things she was gathering, but they would find out in time. Alexa hated to waste words on something that would be revealed naturally anyway. She’d inherited that trait from her father.

  4

  An hour after killing the wizard, they reached a clearing with edges of tall, rusted buildings covered in crow shit. Alexa had timed their arrival at the first waiting station with the longest part of the day, the lazy time when sleep snuck up and stole the ability to react quickly.

  She waved her men into that tight V formation, and felt them all respond by checking their gear for the next battle. In the center, Paul shivered with nervous tension and weariness. The fight with the zombie had worn him out.

  “Hello in the camp!”

  The wait station appeared to be an old equestrian farm set in a huge circle, with a dozen wide corrals, barns, and sheds twinkling in the dim morning sun. The vegetation had been pushed nearly ten feet from this weathered circle of civilization, but there were no fences around the gathering point for wary travelers. That was clearly a mistake. The animal tracks the fighters stepped over were fresh, dangerous in their sheer size.

  As they came from the corn, all movement in the station ceased except for heads following their progress. Conversations abruptly stopped and a thick silence replaced them. The sight of Alexa brought immediate flashes of the war and all its horrors, but also of the legends, of Safe Haven. The expressions said these people both loathed and loved the sight of Alexa’s group. She lent a strength that increased the odds of survival. The strangers wanted to be able to get on the road finally. They’d been here a long time, but the loathing was for the same reason. No one was anticipating the coming trek, and some were even hoping that she too might delay here for a while.

  Alexa straightened her shoulders, jaw set in a determined clench and the expressions of love and loathing changed to dread and resignation. Stay a few days and rest? Not her. The only question was when she would depart.

  “Look around, my pets,” Alexa instructed. “Remember what you see.”

  The fighters assumed she meant the people and they did as she said, picking out details.

  In the large center warehouse, the Army men went in and out, working. On what, none of them knew yet. In a small shed behind the warehouse, an old woman and her grandkids were resting, depending on the protection of the soldiers who ran this station. In front of the barn was a prep building where a group of slave traders and their guards had ensconced their precious male wares. Beside the slave nest was a map scriber bunking in a smaller barn with three gunfighters that he’d likely hired for protection. They had a prisoner nearby in a wooden wagon cell, shackled and covered with bruises. It was a curiosity.

  In that cell, the thief stared in longing at the playing children, hands clenched into tight fists. Their laughter aroused and repulsed him until it was a very good thing he was in a cell.

  Alexa noted that all of the travelers wore thick layers of dark clothes and hats that blended well with the corn. They’d obviously spent enough time here to make a few things to soften the hard trip. Had their captive been caged all that time?

  The shed to the left housed three government messengers on their way to the government’s eastern headquarters with explosive dispatches. All mail carriers now strapped C-4 around their documents and then placed it around their chests. Trying to steal the letters ended in destroyed messages and a dead mailman.

  On the farthest side of the station, three families were going about their daily lives in fr
ont of tents and wagons, and it took Edward a minute of watching to finish estimating the number of people here. He would spend time later observing each group, judging, getting details to verify his assumptions.

  “Fifty or so. I expected less,” Edward observed.

  “Maybe they heard Lincoln was holding on,” Billy suggested.

  “Is it good or bad to have so many?” Jacob asked, seeing one of the families had a slave washing clothes outside their tent. He could tell by the ugly tattoo on the thin man’s cheek.

  “If you’re in the middle, it might be great,” Alexa quipped.

  Edward forced a smile. “True.” He’d also seen the slave family, but it was the traders he glared at as they walked through the gawking station of travelers.

  Their last days of giants, zombies, a wizard had taken a small toll that was well hidden except for Paul, who didn’t understand that jokes were a great coping mechanism for nerves. He still thought complaining was the best way to go.

  “You missed a few on the count,” Alexa said, subtly calming them.

  “Where?” Edward asked, scanning the slaver’s shelter harder. He’d only counted five pieces of property there.

  “Out patrolling, and under the main barn. They have a couple stashed. Women who tried to pass, I assume,” Alexa stated.

  That sent anger through their group and Alexa was satisfied. She didn’t know for sure that all the females she’d sensed were being held against their will, but at least one of them was. Her silent misery had been impossible to miss during Alexa’s mental sweep of the area.

  “We’ll have to do something about that while we’re here,” Edward said, turning his menace toward the mapmaker and his three gunfighters.

  “When they let them out to play,” Alexa answered, leading her men to the center warehouse as the watching travelers gaped and whispered. “Be careful of the slavers, as well. They used to be carnival owners. They often take their captives from the audiences.”