And he needed to rest.

  It was getting dark. For as eager as he was to find Fort Hood, it would be too easy to ride right past it once night had fully fallen. If he overshot the Custodian camp, it might take days to locate another settlement with a borger or to realize he needed to head back in the other direction. If he stopped now and waited for morning, at least he could guarantee the number of hours he would lose.

  Spotting what looked like a grouping of larger buildings on his left, Marcus turned the hovertrike off the road. He rode over the grass median, across the other side and over another section of grass, passing beneath a pair of trees and into a parking lot. The nature of the location quickly became clear. A shopping mall. The parking lot around it was large and empty, the structure itself intact. It was covered in a layer of grime and rust that had run down from the metal pipes. Many of the signs for the original stores were damaged or missing, but from the outside the building appeared to be in decent condition.

  He didn’t go right for it, instead riding around the entire perimeter, searching the exterior for signs that the interior was already occupied. He was in no shape to get into a confrontation with anyone, and there had to be plenty of other places for him to go if this one was already taken. He didn’t spot any modboxes, trucks or any other vehicles of any kind in the lot. No horses either. Swinging in for a closer look, there was evidence scavengers had already picked the interior clean, but the discarded clothing and other remains were all weathered and decaying. Whoever had been here to clean out the stores had come through years ago.

  Satisfied, Marcus rode the trike around to one of the main entrances, where the sliding glass doors had been broken out long ago and the trike could easily scale the broken glass and pass through the frame. He examined the glass as he floated over it, making sure it hadn’t been crushed by boots, hooves or tires of more conventional motorcycles. There was some indication of crushing and scattering, slight enough it could have been caused by the scavvies who had entered.

  He switched the headlight of the trike on as he moved into the mall, illuminating the interior. Additional debris littered the floor, including a few tents and sleeping bags. Someone had stayed here at some point, but it all looked like it had been unused for a long time. Even so, Marcus remained cautious, riding the length of the interior corridors, staring into the shops picked clean of anything that might have potential value in search of other people.

  Nobody.

  Convinced he was alone, Marcus returned to the central area where the tents and sleeping bags were arranged. One of them was large enough for the trike, so he guided it in and shut it down, climbing off and staring at the machine. He hadn’t considered it during his earlier panic, but the trike seemed way too easy to steal. There was no key to speak of, only a button to turn it on and off. But there had to be some kind of security.

  He walked around the trike, noticing the fenders over the rear skids had seams. He didn’t see releases on the metal itself, so he turned the trike back on, navigating through the menu on the projected interface. He found a storage release option there and selected it. The two latches swung open, revealing small storage compartments beneath. One of them had a slender keycard wedged in the bottom, and he lifted it out, walking away from the trike. He had only gone a few meters when the vehicle shut down.

  Marcus smiled, shoving the keycard in a pocket of the combat armor. He didn’t know why the Sheriff had left the key with the trike. He probably never expected someone would try to take it. Stealing from the Sheriff didn’t seem like a smart thing for most people to do.

  But he had done it. Right after he had killed the man. And nothing could ever take that away from him.

  He left the trike in the larger tent before making his way to a nearby storefront where he had spotted a few discarded shirts on the floor. He picked them up, looking for a surface he could use to help hold the combat armor in place while he unclasped it and pulled it down to change his makeshift dressings. Heading over to the counter near the back of the store, he used it for leverage, getting the armor open and the left side away from the stump of his arm. He clenched his teeth while he pulled the current bloodstained dressing away, disheartened to see the redness and swelling around the wound.

  Infection.

  It took nearly thirty minutes for him to tie off the new dressings and re-fasten his combat armor. The damage continued to send spikes of pain along his spine, but at least he had done something to combat it. He shivered in his armor and reaching to his forehead it felt like it was on fire.

  Fever.

  He just had to make it through the night. He would reach Fort Hood in the morning. He had to.

  Marcus walked back to the tents, entering the one opposite where he had stashed the hovertrike. A sleeping bag rested across the interior, a few rat-chewed candy bar wrappers nearby. An old book sat at the edge of the bag. The Road, by Cormac McCarthy. Marcus slumped onto the sleeping bag, picking up the book before lying down, thinking to read from it before drifting to sleep but finding it too challenging with one hand. Frustrated, he threw the book into the side of the tent, put his head against the floor and closed his eyes.

  He wasn’t sure how long he had slept, or if he had even slept at all. His eyes were still closed when he heard the unmistakable sound of boots on broken glass.

  4

  Marcus

  Marcus slowly tucked his legs and turned onto his arm so he could draw himself up into a crouch. He listened attentively, trying to guess the number of people entering the mall. Was this just bad luck balancing out his earlier good fortune or had he somehow missed the signs of occupation when he first entered the building?

  His father had taught him too well for him to believe he had missed evidence. Besides, his luck had to change sooner or later.

  Just not this soon.

  He stayed in the tent, hand dropping to his sidearm and detaching it from the combat armor. He counted six or seven people, give or take. Just because they were coming inside didn’t mean they were inherently dangerous. Even with the trife, there had been plenty of nomads and scavengers wandering the landscape, and a lot of them were more content to run and hide than get into an altercation. They were just trying to stay a step or two ahead of the trife without getting in the way of other humans.

  The end of the trife meant people should become less aggressive, not more. But Marcus wasn’t sure that logic held up. The only opposition out there now came from other humans. There was no shared enemy to find common ground against so they fought each other. In truth, Marcus didn’t have enough experience with the ways the Earth had changed post-trife to make an educated determination. All he could do was wait in the tent, ready to defend himself if needed.

  He didn’t try to leave the shelter, hopeful that maybe whoever was coming would pass right by without checking the interior. If he had both his hands, he might have been tempted to deal with the problem head on. It angered him to remain in hiding, even though he knew it was the more prudent course.

  “Klev, Brain, go that way,” a woman’s voice said. “Adon, Shah, check that direction. See if there’s anything of value left in this shithole.”

  “You got it, Fairy,” one of the others replied.

  Scavengers, then. Marcus almost breathed an audible sigh of relief as he heard the footsteps of the others moving deeper into the mall. It was just his lousy luck they had showed up a few hours after him.

  “This looks like a good place to settle in for the night,” Fairy said. “I bet there’s bedding in those tents.”

  Marcus cursed under his breath. Why couldn’t they just stay out of the tents?

  “It’s probably covered in rat-shat,” a man’s voice replied. “We got our own rolls, Fairy. I don’t want to sleep in there.”

  “Yeah,” another woman said. “They look like they’ve been here for years. Probably corpses inside. No thank you.”

  Marcus nodded in agreement with the two. They were right. They should stay out of the tents. They wouldn’t like what they found inside. In this one anyway.

  “I want to know what’s in them,” Fairy shrilled angrily. “Open them up, take a look inside.”

  “Fairy, I really don’t think—” the other woman started to say.

  “I don’t care what you think,” Fairy hissed. “I’m in charge. You do what I say. Or do you prefer the alternative?”

  “N…no, Fairy,” the woman said fearfully. “We’ll check them.”

  “That’s right, you will.”

  Marcus heard the zipper of one of the tents being pulled, opening the flap. “Nothing in here,” the man reported.

  He followed the sound of footsteps to another of the tents. “Just a sleeping bag,” the woman said. “I’m telling you, Fairy. Who would leave anything valuable here?”

  “Just check them.”

  Marcus heard the heavier feet go over to the tent with the hovertrike. He wanted to go out there, to stop them before they saw it, but he had already zipped his tent, and he couldn’t unzip it without putting down the gun. Damn it.

  He heard the zipper move. “Oh, shit,” the man said. “Uh...Fairy, you need to see this. This is grepping sweet.”

  Marcus heard her hurry across the space to the tent. “Ha!” Fairy exclaimed. “I knew there had to be something good in here.”

  “This thing is cherry,” the man said.

  “It also doesn’t have a single speck of dust on it,” Fairy replied. “Wherever this came from, it hasn’t been here long. Its owner might still be nearby.”

  “Shit,” the man said. “Should we get out of here?”

  “And leave this baby behind? Are you nuts? I’ve never seen a hoverbike like this before. Let’s see if we can start it up.”

  Marcus figured they tried to start the bike, but the keycard was out of range.

  “It’s broken,” the man said.

  “Don’t be an idiot, Grunge,” Fairy replied. “The key is probably with the owner, who I’m sure will come back for it.” She paused. “Looking at the ride, it can’t be more than one person. There are seven of us. I think we should wait here, and when they come back, they can either have the ride or their life.”

  “We could be waiting a while,” the other woman said.

  “Who cares,” Fairy said. “We were done for the night anyway.”

  Marcus heard footsteps approaching.

  “Fairy,” a new voice said. “We checked the area. Nothing really worth taking. A few rags here and there.”

  “We’ve got all the prize we need right here, Brain,” Fairy said. “Take a look at this.”

  “Wow,” Brian said a moment later. “Where’s the owner?”

  “We don’t know yet,” Grunge said. “We’re going to wait until they come back and jump ‘em.”

  “Do you know how much we can probably get for this thing?” Fairy said. “We bring it back to those weirdos nearby, I bet they’ll trade us some of those fancy guns they’re carrying.”

  Marcus raised an eyebrow. Were they referring to Fort Hood? If so, that meant he was relatively close.

  “I don’t like those folks,” Brain said. “They looked like they were ready to fill us with lead when we stumbled across their camp. And they had the firepower to do it.”

  “They didn’t fill us with lead,” Fairy replied. “And they could have. They aren’t your ordinary nomads or scavvies. And I think they’ll appreciate this baby.” She stopped speaking for a moment. “Look, that tent’s directly across from this one. Grunge, you and Brain can hide in there. We’ll hide in the other tents. When the trike’s owner comes back, we ambush him.”

  “Can I wait with Jojo instead?” Grunge asked.

  “So you can fool around instead of keeping your eyes on the prize?” Fairy said. “No chance.”

  Marcus backed up a step, pointing his gun at the flap. He heard the other pair of scavengers return, listening to a similar reaction to the trike as Brain’s. Then Fairy explained her plan again.

  “Everybody get in position,” she said after she finished. “It could be a while, but the owner will be back for the trike.”

  The scavengers moved around outside the tent. Marcus dropped to a knee, holding his sidearm at the ready as Grunge and Brain approached his hiding place. He needed to make a decision. Threaten them or shoot to kill.

  The zipper began to move, the flap of the tent shifting slightly. A big hand appeared at the edge, pulling it back out of the way and revealing an equally large face just above the flap.

  Marcus made up his mind.

  Shoot to kill.

  “Ambush my ass,” he said coldly, firing his weapon. The round hit Grunge in the head and the scavenger stumbled back.

  Marcus moved forward, certain the other scavvies were beginning to react to the gunshot. He reached the opening of the tent, turning his weapon on Brain and putting three bullets in his chest. He tucked his arm and rolled out of the tent, coming up to a knee and aiming at the first scavenger he saw. Obviously scared shitless, the man was struggling with his holster, trying to get his pistol out. Marcus double-tapped him, taking him down. Then he straightened and ran laterally, away from the bullets fired at him by the others.

  He ducked behind the tent and the hovertrike, maneuvering behind it and getting another scavenger in view. He fired twice, knocking that man down too.

  “Shit,” he heard Fairy shout. “Mister whoever the grep you are, hold up. We surrender, damn it.”

  Marcus didn’t come out from behind the tent. “You were ready to jump me a minute ago,” he growled.

  “Yeah,” Fairy said. “I...uh...I’m sorry about that, Mister. You know, I didn’t know you were here. We surrender, okay? I’m dropping my gun.” Marcus heard it hit the tiled floor. “Jojo, Klev—you too.” Two more weapons hit the floor. “We’re unarmed now, okay?”

  Marcus took a moment to calm himself. Then he came out from behind the tent. The three remaining scavengers stood close to one another, clearly afraid, but also surprised by his appearance. He didn’t blame them. Combat armor from another planet, with one arm of it hanging limp and empty? He would have stared at that too.

  “Uh, hi,” Fairy said meekly. She was small and petite, with a shaved head and narrow face. “I’m Fairy. This is Jojo and Klev.” The other two offered weak waves. They were all too damn young. Eighteen at most. “I’m real sorry, Mister. We don’t want any more trouble.” She looked back at the entrance to the mall. “We can just be on our way.”

  “No,” Marcus said. “You’ll stay.”

  Fairy’s face paled. “Mister, we can—”

  “It wasn’t a request,” Marcus interrupted.

  Fairy lowered her head. “Yes, sir.” She paused, looking up again. “You aren’t planning to attack me or Jojo, are you?”

  Marcus flinched. “What do I look like to you?”

  “I’m sorry, Mister,” she said again. “It’s just, lots of men out here, they’ll offer to pay and take what they can’t buy.”

  “I don’t need that from you,” Marcus said.

  “Then why can’t we go?” Jojo asked.

  “I need something else. Information. About the camp you mentioned.”

  “Aren’t you one of them?” Klev asked. “You’re wearing the same uniform they were.”

  “No, I’m not one of them,” Marcus countered. “But I do want to talk to them. You answer my questions, I’ll let you go.”

  “That sounds fair,” Jojo said.

  “It does,” Fairy agreed. “You got a name, Mister?”

  “Marcus.” He hesitated a moment before smiling. “I’m the man who killed the Sheriff.”

  5

  Marcus

  Fairy stared at Marcus, an understandably shocked expression splitting her face. “What do you mean, you killed the Sheriff?” she asked.

  “You know who the Sheriff is, don’t you?” Marcus questioned.

  “Of course. Everybody knows about the Sheriff.”

  Marcus’ smile widened. “Well, I killed him.” He patted his left shoulder with his gun. “It only cost me an arm.”

  The three scavengers didn’t respond, the already thick atmosphere becoming more tense. They remained silent for a handful of seconds before Jojo broke the stalemate.

  “Why?” she asked.

  Marcus looked at her. “I heard he was the most dangerous man on Earth. I killed him fair and square. Now I’m the most dangerous man on Earth.” They looked at him like he was crazy. They were just kids. What the hell did they know?

  “He believed in justice for everybody,” Jojo said. “Does that make someone dangerous? What did he ever do to you?”

  “Jojo, relax,” Klev said. “He’s just trying to scare us.”

  The statement made Marcus angry. He turned his pistol toward Klev. “You think I’m lying?”

  “Anybody can say they killed the Sheriff,” Klev replied. “That doesn’t mean they really did.”

  “I did kill him. I had witnesses. Hundreds of witnesses. If you follow the road southeast, it leads to a settlement called Houston. They know it’s true. It was only yesterday, so news hasn’t spread yet.”

  “Okay,” Klev said, unconvinced.

  Marcus didn’t know why he was trying to convince the trio. It shouldn’t matter if they believed him, but he had lost his arm in the process. He wanted them to fear and respect him. They already feared him. He could see it on their faces. They were nervous about his reaction, doubly so because of the corpses of the rest of their group on the floor nearby.

  “If you don’t try to hurt me, I won’t be forced to hurt you,” Marcus said, lowering his gun. That caused the scavengers to relax a little.