600 Miles: A Post-Apocalyptic Adventure Read Online Free Page B

but they'd taken it too far and them men weren't going to even get the courtesy of being buried like their friend who'd been stabbed by the Mexican, if ever that hole had been dug for him, that is.
    A reckoning indeed, just like Pete used to say. He had a way with words, that fella. He'd read a lot of things, a lot of stories from old times and had a poetry-like way of saying stuff and I'd envied him for that. Weren't that I were a dummy, though sometimes I admit I had a hard time with words, or not a hard time maybe, but I sure weren't no smooth-talker, though the time for that had already passed. Weren't no talking to do when I saw them boys. Just killing, if it came to that, and taking back what was mine.
    I thought I heard them as I crept near, one of the men muttering something and shuffling around. I took off my boots, undoing one of the shoelaces, the plan being to strangle them in their sleep—or at least the men—one at a time. Or could be that I was a fool who was about to get shot, but there weren't no turning back because I sure as hell weren't going to keep going without my pistol that were the only thing worth dying for I had.
    Sure enough, I spotted them, or at least one. There he was, Mr. Dog Shooter, just sitting there staring out across the desert with his rifle across his lap. Closer and closer I crept, the bastard not once looking my way. I was on my hands and knees, clutching that old shoelace, every second I neared being the second he might have turned and lifted up that rifle to shoot. But just like the oriental warrior you couldn't even see until it were too late, I was right up on his back with them others sleeping on unaware, though finally, right before I sprang, he caught wind of me and jumped.
    It was too late. That old bootlace wrapped around his neck good and I pulled with all my might. The others must have been heavy sleepers, because as I choked the life out of him none of them stirred. It was just me and that fat bastard struggling in the dirt, with him making all sorts of terrible sounds, until at last he weren't fighting no more, just a big fat hunk of nothing laying under me, though I didn't stop until I was good and sure.
    First thing I took was his rifle, then my pistol that sure enough was still tucked in his belt. There were a good number of bullets in his pocket and I took them too, always watching the others in case one of them suddenly came to, wondering if I should go ahead and shoot the other man while he was sleeping but not having the stomach for it after what I'd just done.
    I was backing away, wanting to leave now that I had my pistol, when she stirred. Not the old one but the one who was younger, that quiet woman with the straw-colored hair who'd been staring at me when I was tied up, being the only one out of all of them I'd never heard say a word. She gasped, first seeing the man I'd just strangled then seeing me crouched there staring back, frozen, both of us, each waiting for what was going to happen next. I was still holding my pistol and she stared at it, then back at me, her scared expression telling me she weren't going to do anything as she slowly eased her head back down.
    I lowered my pistol and she let out a quiet breath, her eyes silently thanking me for not killing her as I quietly slipped away. I quickly made my way back to where my boots were, though there weren't no alarm or sudden shout. After getting my bearings, I managed to find the stuff I'd left behind when I'd been captured, the sky getting lighter with every moment that passed.
    It was as I was slinging my pack over my shoulder that I saw someone hurrying towards me, taking aim until I realized who it was. Then she was standing there, close enough that I could make out the details of her face. She was frightened, but there was something else there too, something hopeful and desperate.
    "What are you doing here?" I demanded. I looked past her, expecting to see the rest.
    "Ain't no one know I followed