he felt. Showing these assholes weakness would not be wise.
“Seen ships flying over, landing on the other side of the mountains. You’ll never make it. Your best bet is to stick around here with your woman.”
Yeah, and he’d bet a full day wouldn’t pass before he died in his sleep and she became the camp whore.
An older man with thick white hair, snorted. “No one survives outside town. The Scarecrows’ll pick you clean before you get far.”
Scarecrows? Hell, if his mouth didn’t throb so bad he’d ask what they were, but he didn’t have the capacity for chit-chat right now. They were talking in circles and he was pissed as hell he needed to repeat his question. “Where’s the closest town?”
Several of the men laughed. “Clear ’cross the desert out to the west, or past the mountains in the south.”
“What’s north and east?”
“Unexplored territory.”
Griffin eyed the men. He couldn’t tell if they spoke the truth or not. What the hell was he doing? Nothing these assholes had to say could be trusted. He motioned with the gun to the back of the room. “Over there.” Once they complied, he walked to the counter and hopped over. There wasn’t much by way of supplies, but he found a backpack with a blanket, a couple tools, night goggles, salt, and some fruit. He grabbed a bottle of liquor for good measure and stuffed it in the pack.
Beggars couldn’t be choosers.
On his way out, he paused long enough to lift one of the bar stools and slam it over the counter, breaking off a leg. He took the thick piece of wood with him. Backing out of the room, with the gun trained on the men, he pulled the door open, exited, slammed it shut and rammed the broken stool leg into the door handle. That chair leg wouldn’t hold them long, but it bought him some time.
Seconds later, the door rattled as the men tried to get through.
Griffin turned to grab the woman. She was gone. Only the deep, aching throb in his mouth kept him from cursing a blue-streak. He lifted both arms to the alien sky, silently asking whatever god might be up there, “ Are you fucking kidding me?”
The wind had picked up, creating little whirl-winds and rearranging the black sand. If he didn’t hurry, he’d have no chance in hell of finding her.
Behind him, someone rattled the door violently. The stool leg held in place. For now.
He scanned the ground, searching for footprints. He’d expected she’d return to the pod—the one familiar place on this planet—but he couldn’t find any sign she’d gone that direction. He circled all the way around before seeing her footprints. There. Due east. If those men had spoken the truth, she was headed straight into unexplored territory. Then again, they could’ve lied. He would’ve in their situation.
Griffin shouldered his stolen pack and ran into the desert.
Chapter 7
Someone was following her.
Prudence’s heart seemed to want to gallop right out of her chest via her throat. She pressed her back up against the sharp stone outcropping and went still.
Everything had gone silent. She heard no more footsteps, no heavy breathing.
The brisk wind swept over the desert floor, dragging the sand into an ever-changing landscape. Whirl-winds carried the black stuff into the air in miniature tornados.
She eased to the side and peered around the stone. Whatever she’d heard had gone. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the rocks. When she opened them a scant second later, she screamed.
Chief Payne had found her. With the quick grace of a predator, he grabbed her arm and clicked something around her wrist. A handcuff. The other end was already secured around his arm.
“No!” She wrested her hand away, inadvertently pulling him closer. “What are you doing? Why are—?”
His hand clamped down over her mouth. “Shut it, lady. Those friends of yours might come looking. So decide, them or me.”
She stared at him in dawning horror. After everything
“Seen ships flying over, landing on the other side of the mountains. You’ll never make it. Your best bet is to stick around here with your woman.”
Yeah, and he’d bet a full day wouldn’t pass before he died in his sleep and she became the camp whore.
An older man with thick white hair, snorted. “No one survives outside town. The Scarecrows’ll pick you clean before you get far.”
Scarecrows? Hell, if his mouth didn’t throb so bad he’d ask what they were, but he didn’t have the capacity for chit-chat right now. They were talking in circles and he was pissed as hell he needed to repeat his question. “Where’s the closest town?”
Several of the men laughed. “Clear ’cross the desert out to the west, or past the mountains in the south.”
“What’s north and east?”
“Unexplored territory.”
Griffin eyed the men. He couldn’t tell if they spoke the truth or not. What the hell was he doing? Nothing these assholes had to say could be trusted. He motioned with the gun to the back of the room. “Over there.” Once they complied, he walked to the counter and hopped over. There wasn’t much by way of supplies, but he found a backpack with a blanket, a couple tools, night goggles, salt, and some fruit. He grabbed a bottle of liquor for good measure and stuffed it in the pack.
Beggars couldn’t be choosers.
On his way out, he paused long enough to lift one of the bar stools and slam it over the counter, breaking off a leg. He took the thick piece of wood with him. Backing out of the room, with the gun trained on the men, he pulled the door open, exited, slammed it shut and rammed the broken stool leg into the door handle. That chair leg wouldn’t hold them long, but it bought him some time.
Seconds later, the door rattled as the men tried to get through.
Griffin turned to grab the woman. She was gone. Only the deep, aching throb in his mouth kept him from cursing a blue-streak. He lifted both arms to the alien sky, silently asking whatever god might be up there, “ Are you fucking kidding me?”
The wind had picked up, creating little whirl-winds and rearranging the black sand. If he didn’t hurry, he’d have no chance in hell of finding her.
Behind him, someone rattled the door violently. The stool leg held in place. For now.
He scanned the ground, searching for footprints. He’d expected she’d return to the pod—the one familiar place on this planet—but he couldn’t find any sign she’d gone that direction. He circled all the way around before seeing her footprints. There. Due east. If those men had spoken the truth, she was headed straight into unexplored territory. Then again, they could’ve lied. He would’ve in their situation.
Griffin shouldered his stolen pack and ran into the desert.
Chapter 7
Someone was following her.
Prudence’s heart seemed to want to gallop right out of her chest via her throat. She pressed her back up against the sharp stone outcropping and went still.
Everything had gone silent. She heard no more footsteps, no heavy breathing.
The brisk wind swept over the desert floor, dragging the sand into an ever-changing landscape. Whirl-winds carried the black stuff into the air in miniature tornados.
She eased to the side and peered around the stone. Whatever she’d heard had gone. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the rocks. When she opened them a scant second later, she screamed.
Chief Payne had found her. With the quick grace of a predator, he grabbed her arm and clicked something around her wrist. A handcuff. The other end was already secured around his arm.
“No!” She wrested her hand away, inadvertently pulling him closer. “What are you doing? Why are—?”
His hand clamped down over her mouth. “Shut it, lady. Those friends of yours might come looking. So decide, them or me.”
She stared at him in dawning horror. After everything
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