Commodity - Page 80

“It’s gonna go easier on you if you relax.” Caesar’s hand comes around my chin and pulls my head backward painfully. “Just let it happen, and you won’t get hurt.”

Caesar’s hand presses against my cheek, turning my head to the side and holding it to the ground. In front of me, there is a single dandelion. I stare at the tiny seeds clinging to the top of the stalk in a gossamer ball, waiting for the wind to carry them off and start new life somewhere far away.

Feet shuffle around me, and the dandelion is crushed under a boot, the seeds smashed into the ground. There’s a rock poking my left ass-cheek. I focus on the slight pain as I close my eyes, trying to ignore the sound of a zipper.

“After what you did to Hudson, and after all this time hunting you,” Caesar murmurs into my ear, “I can’t think of a better way to start up our new enterprise.”

Not again. Oh, please, God, not again.

Tears pour from my eyes as I focus on the crushed dandelion, trying to tally the seeds. The little tufts are so jumbled, it’s hard to get an accurate count, but I keep trying. I keep my attention on the seeds and not the pain.

Oh, Falk. Where are you?

~End of Part One~

Commodity: Part Two

Chapter 1

I startle awake.

Trees loom over me, and drops of rain sneak through the branches to land on the mossy ground where I sit with my back against an evergreen. I glance around through the brush of the old forest, but I see nothing but my khaki backpack. I cock my head to one side, but there’s no sound other than the dripping of raindrops and the chirping of insects.

Something woke me.

I reach for the gun holstered at my side, withdrawing it and holding it close to me. The weight feels good in my hand—it always has. With the opposite hand, I touch each of the four knives at my belt and find their presence there comforting.

Maybe the rain woke me.

I can’t remember when it rained last. It’s been at least two months since the last real rainfall. Finding fresh water while on the move is becoming increasingly difficult. The ground is still fairly dry under the trees, so it hasn’t rained much.

My position against the tree trunk is less than comfortable, and my leg aches as I push myself up from the moss and leaves. I rub at the spot on my thigh, feeling the rough scar tissue under my jeans. It never healed quite right. At the time, I’d been too busy trying to keep from bleeding to death from my abdomen to worry about my leg. By the time I got to it, I went with the fastest way to sew up the wound, and my stitching has never been pretty. It kept me alive though.

Wasn’t fast enough.

I shake my head at the thought. It doesn’t help to dwell on it.

I walk slowly and silently toward the nearby outcropping of rocks that overlook the dry creek bed below. It’s a good vantage point. I can see for a couple of miles. My gaze scans the creek, looking for anything large enough to have made the sound that woke me, but there is nothing to be seen. There are no foxes or deer in the area. There aren’t even signs of a raccoon or squirrel. Many animals have migrated farther north in search of water.

I should do the same, but I won’t. I won’t leave until I’ve found them—the men that took her. All these months and there has been no sign at all, but I’m not going anywhere.

I swore to protect her. I failed.

Across the creek bed and off in the distance, the collapsed tops of skyscrapers are easily seen, but I can’t make out any detail from here. I haven’t ventured near the city limits in quite some time—it simply isn’t safe there. However, I’m probably due a supply run.

The crack of a dry twig alerts me, and I turn quickly with my gun raised, but I see nothing through the trees. My skin tingles, and I’ve learned to rely on my senses.

There’s something there.

I sidestep back to the base of the tree where I had been sleeping, press my shoulder against the trunk, and look farther into the woods.

Movement.

The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I swallow hard as I creep forward to the next tree and then the next, making my way closer to whomever is out there in the forest. I hold the gun low, pointed at the ground, and I creep around each tree. As I get closer, I hear voices.

“Can’t fucking believe it!”

“It’s like findin’ Venus’ tits!”

Tags: Shay Savage Science Fiction
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