The Vagabond Codes Read online

  “But we’ve got a hundred miles to go,” Ben protested. “It’ll take us forever to get there.” He looked at Danna for backup, but she absently stared out the window.

  “Can we find another way?” she asked quietly.

  “There’s no point,” Cameron replied. “We’ll just get ambushed again. I said all along it was a bad idea to drive.”

  The Stranger nodded silently.

  “So, what are we going to do?” Ben asked, unscrewing his water bottle to take a sip.

  Before the bottle reached his lips, Cameron turned around and grabbed his wrist.

  “Save it,” he said sternly. He looked at the others. “We leave here by foot, and Tomás takes the car back. We know it’s clear back home from here.”

  “I think that’s wise,” the Stranger said. “We’re too easy to spot on the road.”

  “It’s going to take three times as long,” Ben said, eyeing his water bottle.

  “Two, maybe three days more,” Cameron replied. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

  The Stranger looked at Danna. “Thoughts?”

  She gave a half-hearted shrug. “I’m down with whatever.”

  “Okay, then,” Cameron said, glancing out the window again. He uncocked his pistol. “Let’s unload and get prepped to move. Tomás, keep watch.”

  Ben stepped out and gazed upon the moonlit countryside. It was three o’clock in the morning; and, as Ben noted, nearly four days since Ron died and the Stranger appeared.

  The car was parked next to a wire grazing fence that bordered the road as far as a hill crest farther down the road. The other side of the road was lined with large eucalyptus trees spaced far apart enough for him see the rolling fallow fields beyond.

  Cameron came up next to him and lifted him his rucksack. “Look, I know that was a close call,” he said quietly.

  Ben nodded and gazed downwards. At his foot was a broken white mileage post half buried in the wild grass; he poked around it with his boot, trying to make out the number. “Thankfully we had guns, and they didn’t.”

  “Some kind of tribe?”

  “Cannibals,” the Stranger said over the roof of the car. He came around and popped a fresh magazine into his pistol. “I’ve no doubt.”

  “We should’ve brought some rat poison with us,” Danna said. A little color had returned to her face. “Next time I’ll take a swig before they get me so I’ll get the last laugh when they roast me for dinner.”

  “The only ones they’ll be roasting for a while are their dead,” Cameron said with a grunt as he slung the rail gun over his shoulder.

  Ben grimaced; he had a light stomach. He pursed his lips and tightened the pack straps across his chest and around his waist. Giving them a quick tug, he then pulled out his handgun from the holster strapped to his thigh and made sure it had a full magazine. He knew there was, but it was a habit. A good one too.

  Five minutes later, they gathered in a circle next to the car. Gearing up seemed to have settled their nerves a little. All was quiet except for the tiny pieces of broken glass crunching under their boots and the soft idling of the car.

  “Good to go?” Tomás asked, crossing his arms over the driver’s side door.

  “Should be,” Cameron said. He gave Tomás a bear hug and tousled his shaggy black hair. “Keep an eye on things for us, eh amigo?”

  “You got it.”

  Ben gave him a fist pump. “I know you got it. And make sure Izzy’s okay.”

  “And HULC, too,” Tomás said with a sly grin. “C’mon, admit it.”

  “And HULC, too,” Ben said, smiling back.

  Danna came up alongside him and nodded. “Thank you,” she said, giving him a warm hug.

  Tomás, who had a bit of a crush on Danna, blushed at first, but then straightened up. “I’ll protect her like she’s my own sister.”

  Ben gave Tomás a knowing grin. “So that makes Danna your sister too?”

  “Shove it.”

  The Stranger patted his shoulder. “Tomás, you’re a good man.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Tomás replied, standing tall. He got into the driver’s seat and adjusted the mirrors. “Well, guys, good luck,” he said, fastening his seatbelt. “It’s already been a crazy night. And I’m not lying when I say that I’m glad to be heading back.”

  Ben felt a shot of envy, but then he realized that he’d have a better chance out here than Tomás ever could. It is what it is, he said to himself as he waved goodbye to his friend.

  Tomás shifted the car into drive but then stopped. “I almost forgot,” he said, reaching into his bag. “Here’s an extra flash grenade. Remember to pull hard.” He handed it to Ben then drove off with a lurch.

  “Does he even know how to drive?” Cameron asked, squinting his eyes.

  “Well, I know for a fact he never took driver’s training,” Ben said.

  “Neither did you, Ben,” Danna said with a laugh. She looked at Cameron. “You should’ve seen your brother drive the other night; I was more scared of him than that robot.”

  “What’s your deal?” Ben said, giving her a slight push on the shoulder. “Always busting my chops.”

  “Can’t help it,” she replied with a smirk, pushing back. “You’re easy prey, Mr. Serious.”

  “I gotta admit, Ben,” the Stranger said with a smile. “It was a little rough on the road the other night.”

  “You should’ve just called a cab, then,” Ben shot back. He shook his head and watched Tomás drive erratically but surely down the road, bathed in the pale moonlight until it passed over a slight incline and was seen no more.

  Suddenly Danna chuckled and held something up in her hand. “Well, how about it — a quarter.” She slipped it into her pocket.

  “Well, what in the world would you need that for?” Cameron asked.

  Danna started to reply, but then she stopped abruptly and smiled sheepishly. “Oh! I forgot there’s nothing to buy any more.”

  “I’d keep it anyway,” the Stranger said lightly. “For luck.”

  As soon as Tomás disappeared from view, the Stranger gathered them together. Ben studied him keenly. He wasn’t the same pathetic person he and Danna had picked up three nights ago. He saw a fire in his eyes and a grave intensity that magnetized the group to trust him, even with their lives. Cameron was strong-willed and independent, but Ben knew his brother felt it too. It was as if the Stranger gave them hope — and courage.

  “From here on out, we’ll have to be ‘busting bush,’” the Stranger said plainly. He retightened the Velcro straps of his tactical gloves. “It was stupid of me to allow us to get ambushed.”

  “How can that be your fault?” Danna asked.

  “It just was,” the Stranger replied shortly. He paused for a moment as if he were replaying in his mind all that had happened within the past hour. “But it’s over now. From here on out we’ll march as a patrol; you all know the drill.”

  Ben nodded confidently.

  The Stranger paused again, then softly said: “No doubt it’s Providence that your parents taught you this stuff.” He put his hands on his hips and shook his head lightly. “Truly extraordinary.”

  “Well, Dad’s big gamble paid off,” Cameron said. “For us, at least.”

  Cameron had thought their dad was crazy, and Ben would never forget his own humiliation when some kids at school had called his family “doomsday kooks.” Now, more than ever, he wished his parents were alive if only to tell them thank you. He glanced over at Danna, and he could tell she was thinking the same thing.

  “In the woods,” the Stranger continued, “we’ll march spaced apart, probably fifteen feet between each of us. On the mountain paths, we’ll walk single file together, but still with enough distance so that two people won’t get hit by the same bullet.”

  Ben grimaced at the Stranger’s words. “You’re expecting snipers out here?”

  “Hey, no need to take chances, right?” Danna said as she shifted the weight of her pack.
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br />   “And we gotta be quiet,” Cameron added. “They used to say back in military school that when marching, you gotta act the way you would if you were—”

  “Sneaking up on a deer,” the Stranger said.

  “How come you’re always cutting me off? You’re getting worse than Danna.”

  The Stranger looked up and grinned. “I don’t know . . . but it sure is fun.”

  Ben chuckled and shook his head. He could already tell that this was going to be an interesting adventure.

  “But Cameron’s right,” the Stranger said. “We’ve got to march as silently as possible.” He paused and set his gear down. “When you walk, carry your body weight balanced on your rear foot, then lift your forward foot high enough to clear any brush or logs, then lower your forward foot gently, toes first; then lower the heel of the forward foot slowly and transfer your body weight to that foot. It sounds complicated, but we’ve got another quarter mile or so before we get into the woods, which should be enough time for us to practice.”

  Ben nodded and took a couple of awkward steps, but he was interrupted by Danna’s laughing.

  “You look ridiculous,” she said, snickering.

  “How about you do it, and I’ll stand here and laugh?”

  “I already know how to walk on patrol,” she replied, making a pantomime of steps. “My dad taught it to me a long time ago. Comes from the special forces.”

  Ben scoffed. “Anything else you need to teach me?”

  “Not Danna,” the Stranger said, carrying on. “But I do, even though I wouldn’t necessarily call it teaching.”

  “More like commanding.”

  “Let’s call it ‘solemn suggestions,’” the Stranger replied with a smile. “At all times, Cameron will be twenty feet ahead of us as the scout; I’ll be at the rear. That way there’ll be no surprises. Every forty minutes or so Cam will halt the patrol and do a quick recon of the area.”

  “At that time, you guys can take off your packs for a minute or two and get a drink of water,” Cameron said. “When we need to stop for a while longer, I’ll spot us a good place to lay low, and we’ll set up a small perimeter.”

  “We can rotate eyes if we need to,” the Stranger added.

  “Just remember that no one stops unless we all stop,” Cameron continued. “Not even to take a sip. People get lost easily once we get into the hills.”

  “These aren’t exactly the Himalayas,” Ben said dryly; “but whatever.”

  “All right, then,” the Stranger said, surveying the surrounding area. “Let’s move out, shall we? Take the lead, Cam.”

  Suddenly the reality of it all hit him. Ben’s mind and body had been on such an edge from the ambush that he’d almost forgotten that they were about to begin a hundred-mile trek. In full combat gear.

  Just then he was thirsty. He clutched his canteen like it was forbidden fruit. He hated the feeling of wanting something badly that’s not possible to have until one must do a lot of hard work first. He remembered a time when his friends were hanging out at the beach, but his parents made him study for three hours for an upcoming test before he could go.

  He forced his mind away from his canteen. But then he thought about the weight of his pack, how it seemed so much more, and now his back ached, and he wished he could take it off.

  Mumbling under his breath, he shuffled after his brother, rifle in hand, trying to walk like the special forces soldier that he’d never be.

  The night was at its coldest now, stinging his nostrils with the scent of eucalyptus leaves and dewy grass. In the distance, a coyote yelped. Ben was surprised that a living animal still dwelt so close to human habitation. He numbingly watched Cameron march, twenty yards ahead; and he could feel Danna watching him from the same distance behind.

  In spite of being with company, he felt exposed and unprotected, far away from the retreat. From the last home in the world, he thought, now invading the realms of cannibals and killer robots.

  The moon grew brighter as they passed stealthily down the country highway. Miles away, a truck suddenly roared to life. Perhaps the savages had regrouped to mount a pursuit, or maybe they’d found new victims. They were in open view, and everyone was tense.

  Ben suggested they should just make a run for the woods, but the Stranger replied that a patrol should never run unless they’re under fire.

  The dull grind of the distant engine split the silence. Ben glanced over his shoulder to check if there were headlights, but there were none. At any rate, they arrived at the edge of the forest; and wary of another ambush, they left the road and at once plunged into the woods. The air was colder than it was out in the open, and Ben wished he had brought a knit cap. No complaints, he thought. I’d take cold over rain every time.

  Up ahead, Cameron paused. Ben pumped his fist, hoping that they could rest for a moment. But his brother moved on, and Ben found himself following once again like a mindless sheep. There was no sound except for the repetitious crunch-crunch as he stepped on the layers of dead leaves and twigs. Fortunately, the moon still shone brightly into the woods, and he spent a great deal of effort watching for cactus that grew in small batches here and there.

  After five minutes of tromping through the woods, they clambered down a low rocky shelf and into what Ben thought was an old irrigation canal that ran parallel to the road fifty meters from the left side.

  Cameron’s plan was to follow along the highway — or at least use it as a guide — until it intersected with a county road in Wynola Springs, a small mountain town known for its apple orchards that drew thousands of tourists every autumn.

  Once they reached the junction, they were to take a left and follow the new road along the western ridge tops for fifty miles until it met with the state highway that split the San Jacinto gap. From there, they’d descend into the city and make straight for home.

  After several hours of hiking, with a few short breaks in between, Cameron called for a stop. Ben unsnapped his pack and slung it to the ground. After checking for spiny plants, he collapsed to the ground, leaned his back against a fallen tree, and let out a deep sigh.

  He was surprised that he wasn’t thirsty; instead, all he wanted to do was curl up in his sleeping bag. He yawned and closed his eyes.

  Not a moment later, he felt a hard push on his shoulder. He jerked upwards and snapped his eyes open to see his brother looming over him.

  “I signaled for a listening halt,” Cameron hissed. “Not to unload and paint your nails!” He stomped back to the head.

  Ben rolled his eyes. He had mixed up the signals. Idiot! He stole a glance over at Danna, who was standing fifteen yards away, arms crossed and smiling smugly.

  He slowly got back to his feet and lifted up his pack, and he thought he heard Danna and the Stranger chuckling, but he didn’t dare turn around.

  Is this for real? Ben kicked at a half-buried plastic bucket; and for the next hour or so, he burned with silent anger toward the Stranger.

  They hiked until dawn, and then they set up a hide site to rest for a while. Cameron had signaled for another listening halt, which Ben followed this time, and he led them down into a dense thicket. One-by-one he ordered them to crawl into the thick patch of brambles, which had a small clearing in the middle about the size of a pickup truck bed. For an hour they relaxed, ate, checked each other’s packs, and planned their next move.

  During the stop, Cameron and the Stranger rotated security shifts every fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, Danna applied a fresh bandage to one of her cuts, which had opened again; and Ben put a Band-Aid on his left leg where his boot had been chafing against the skin.

  By this time the sun had risen, and the forest awakened with the melodies of birds and the hum of insects as they danced in the morning wind.

  Ben smiled as the first ray of sunlight warmed his face. His anger at the Stranger hadn’t lasted long, and he didn’t mean it to begin with: he was only frustrated at his brother. He wasn’t one to hold grudges, and he was always a
quick forgiver — except of himself.

  Shortly after leaving the hide site, the terrain began to steepen, and they trudged up the side of a rocky, thickly wooded hill. It was mid-morning when they drew near to the top.

  The Stranger signaled for them to stop and gather together.

  “Don’t go up to the summit; silhouettes create an outline that makes for easy spotting.”

  “Never thought of that,” Cameron said pensively.

  “I’m shocked!” the Stranger replied with a broad smile.

  Fifty feet below the crest, Ben looked out northward. A hazy range of wooded mountains curved far to the northwest; and between them and the most northwesterly distance on the horizon were barren hills separated by ravines and small canyons, with small pockets of homes and farmland.

  The climate was milder here than at the retreat, which was located on the eastern side of the range and cut off from the ocean breezes.

  “I think we should head down to lower ground,” Cameron said, pointing to the hills. “The road runs along the top of the range, and after what happened last night I’m not too sure about staying so close to it.”

  Ben agreed. Being that close to a main road would increase the chances of running into enemies — flesh or metal.

  “I’m not sure about the road down,” Danna said, crossing her arms. “It seems exposed; somebody could spot us easily.”

  Ben took out his binoculars and glassed the nearby terrain, then zoomed out to follow the northwest mountain range. Turning the binoculars due west, he focused on the distant haze. Underneath it sprawled the dead city, and in a quiet neighborhood at the end of a cul-de-sac, his house.

  His old house. Then the thought came to him that it’s still very much his family’s house. But not my home. He remembered his bedroom and his robotics bench and the rough draft of that English essay that was due the day after the Surge, still laying on his desk. Maybe it’s all burned down; or maybe somebody else lives there, who knows? He wasn’t too eager to find out, except for that gnawing curiosity that just maybe his mother . . . .