"Please," Mary called out. She finished buckling the strap and took a few steps in that direction.
"Please what?" the big man, Sam, asked. "Please don't kill the fucker?" He pushed at the unconscious man with his foot. "Why the hell not?"
"Because—" Mary's voice broke on a sob. "I just fixed his foot!"
She broke down completely, falling to her knees sobbing. The marauders stared at her for a moment, then Sam broke out laughing and the others followed suit.
"I can see that," Sam said, slapping his thigh. "Sure, that's reasonable." He gave a high-pitched giggle. "You don't mind if we take the tent and blanket, do ya?"
Mary shook her head, daring to let hope bloom.
"You're not really gonna leave him alive, are ya?" the woman asked.
"Hey, Mona, he's got a cast on his foot. He's in the middle of the wilderness with no food, no supplies, no weapons, and no friends. I am killin' him."
The woman grinned, showing missing teeth. "I guess so, fearless leader."
"Hey, don't you be so sassy," Sam advised. He walked over to Mary and stroked her hair. "We got another woman with us now, girl. If you ain't nice you won't be gettin' any."
Oh, shit! Mary thought. I am so gonna get raped.
"I know what you're thinkin'," Sam said quietly. She looked up at him. "But it ain't rape if it's consensual. And it will be consensual, or that little boy is gonna pay the price. You hear me?"
Mary nodded. "Yes, sir." You dirt-eating bastard!
"All right, then." Sam mounted the mule. "Pass me up that kid," he said to Jeff. Kyle struggled a little and Sam cuffed him lightly. "You want me to hit your mama again?" he asked. Kyle shook his head. "Then you behave. I don't even want to know you're there. You hear me?" Kyle nodded. "All right." He looked down at Mary and smiled. "Let's move out."
If I ever see Dennis again he's going to kill me, Mary thought.
Jeff shoved her from behind and she started walking. And I won't blame him a bit because I want to kill myself.
* * *
Sam grunted one last time and rolled off her with a sigh. Mary swallowed hard, fighting nausea. She'd tried her best to cooperate, but he stank and she hated him more than she'd ever hated anyone in her life.
"That was pretty good," he said. He glanced aside at her.
"'Course it'll be better once you get to know what I like." He grinned. "And you get to like me."
After a moment she looked at him. "Can I see to my son now?"
she asked.
"No." He sounded annoyed.
"Please, he's just a little boy."
He rolled over onto her; quick as a striking snake his hand was on her throat, choking her. "Listen," Sam hissed. "I think kids are vermin. I think anyone who would have a kid after Judgment Day is a criminal." He squeezed harder. "Am I clear?"
She nodded as well as she could, forming "yes" with her lips.
He let her go and rolled onto his back.
"Now you spoiled my good mood," he said. "Get the fuck away from me."
Mary rose and picked up her clothes, then paused, wondering if she could get away with dressing before she left.
"And stay away from that kid, hear? Now get out!"
She ducked out of the tent and dressed quickly. As she was tugging down her shirt, Jeff sauntered over.
"Hey, sugar, don't get all dressed yet," he said, grinning.
"Jeff!" Sam bellowed from inside the tent. "Go fuck yourself, or Mona. Leave 'er alone."
Jeff glared at Mary in a way that made her feel that from now on, if he could do her a bad turn, he would. Then he walked away.
Shit, she thought wearily. Shit, shit, shit.
* * *
They'd been walking east for five days now, passing the occasional cluster of deserted farms, a number of small towns falling apart in slow motion, and once, in the distance, the charred ruins of a city. Most of the people they saw had been dead a long time. But once they crossed the path of some gypsies.
That was what they were called anyway. Just people who took to the road hoping to find a place better than the one they were in, and kept on going since there was no such place.
They were mostly harmless, though criminals of opportunity; thieves and traders. They were welcome everywhere for a day or two, then they were welcome to leave. The resistance left them alone, or on occasion lent them a hand. For which the gypsies sometimes gave them intel at a cut rate.
This group had two wagons, three broken-down horses, and a mule. It looked like they were a single extended family with four older people, six adults in all, and seven children of various ages.
They seemed like the kind of people who had survived rather than thrived even before Judgment Day.
The instant he saw them Sam lifted his assault rifle and began firing. Jeff and Mona joined in with cries of glee. The mules made their displeasure known by dancing and, in the case of the one Sam was riding, essaying a buck or two. He whacked it on the side of its head with the stock of his gun. Mary was too stunned at first to move, and it wasn't until the mule bumped her that she got out of its way.
She watched the gypsies fall. They'd barely had time to scream, let alone be afraid. Mary started forward a step when the children began to drop, then forced herself to stop. There was nothing she could do, except hope that Sam hadn't noticed that one step. Suddenly she became aware that someone was firing from a small copse of trees to the southeast. Retreating behind the mule, she tried to tell Sam.
A rocket, immediately followed by another, roared from the trees, striking the two wagons and turning them and the animals into flaming debris. The smell of burning flesh frightened the mules, and the Luddites had all they could do to keep them under control for a few minutes. Leo held on to the pack mules'
reins for dear life, but he never took his eyes off the copse for a moment.
"What's your problem, asshole?" Mona bellowed. She skipped back from Jeff's mule and swatted it on the rump.
"Shut up!" Sam said, in a stage whisper. "It's one of them."
"Has to be," Jeff said, looking as white as paste.
Mona looked toward the copse and went still, swallowing hard.
Watching them, Mary became even more afraid. If these vicious killers were frightened of whoever hid in the trees, there was even more reason for her to be afraid. She looked up into Kyle's terrified eyes and wanted nothing more than to grab him and run. But she knew she wouldn't get two paces before they killed her. If she waited to see what happened, she might live. A slim chance at survival was better than none. Especially since her death assured Kyle's.
The trees began to thrash, and then to lean forward, as a massive machine lurched out of the copse on caterpillar treads.
It was at least sixteen feet high, and from a distance looked narrow. Its entire front was a wall of gun ports and to either side were missile launchers, the missiles themselves racked on its sides. There were spotlights atop its turret and no doubt its body was packed with ammunition. It trundled toward them with surprisingly little sound. It crushed some of the gypsy children's bodies as it came on, causing Mary to wince, but she kept silent.
Finally it stopped.
"Luddite Patrol A-36," Sam barked. "Sam Marshall, AS-783490 commanding."
The machine was silent. All of the humans remained silent and immobile, waiting for its response.
"Patrol A-36," the machine said in a slight Austrian accent. A red laser spot appeared on Mary's chest. "What is this?"