Canyon: A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Adventure (The Traveler Book 2) by Tom Abrahams Read Free Book Online Page A

if it were your son?”
    Battle’s eyes narrowed and he stuck a finger in Lola’s face. “Don’t talk about my son,” he spat. “You don’t have that right. I know what I’m doing.”
    Lola stepped back from his finger. “It would help if you shared whatever it is you’re doing with us. Our lives are at stake too. We’re not soldiers. We’re not the animal you are.”
    Battle took a step forward, his finger still jabbing at the air in front of Lola’s nose. “If I tell you everything about what’s coming, you’ll argue. You’ll fight. You’ll question. You can’t do that.”
    “I know these people better than you do,” Pico said. “What you’re doing, the bombing, the burning, it’s gonna get us killed. I’m telling you.”
    Battle faked a smile, grinning widely. “Okay then. I’ll fill you in on why I’m doing what I’m doing, but we’re wasting time. Every second I spend explaining myself is another second these people get closer to us.”
    Lola and Pico stood silently. Lola folded her arms across her chest. She raised her eyebrows expectantly.
    Battle huffed. “I want their attention. I’m want them hurried. I want them panicking. We use grenades to blow up the HQ and then a totally different weapon to set fire to Skinner’s house. It tells them we’re well supplied. It gives them pause.”
    “What about the element of surprise?” Pico asked. “That’s gone.”
    “Given that we don’t know where her son is,” Battle argued, “I don’t know how much that would have helped us.”
    “Your plan hasn’t found him so far,” Lola chided.
    “So far,” Battle said. “We’ve been here for less than an hour. They’ll be coming for us. They know we’re in a Humvee. They’ll see it parked here. We’ll be fine. I need to get into that post office.”
    “This is no plan,” mocked Lola. “This is suicide, that’s all it is.”
    Battle took a deep breath. “You’re impatient. I get it. You want your son. No matter how we approach this, it’s dangerous. Trust me.”
    “Battle!” Pico snapped. “They’re already here.”
    Battle looked over his shoulder. A platoon of men was racing toward them on horses from the east. He cursed and leapt into the back of the Humvee. “Get in,” he instructed and tore open his pack. He yanked out a flash-bang smoke grenade and clipped it to his belt. He pulled out a new scope and a thirty-round magazine for Inspector. He affixed the scope to a mount on the top of the semiautomatic rifle and then replaced the ammunition with the fresh cartridge.
    He banged on the top of the Humvee and Pico threw it into drive, peeling away from the curb to move west. Battle pulled the rifle sling over his head and adjusted it with his thumb. He dropped to his knee for balance and turned to face the back of the bed.
    Battle counted at least six horses. They were gaining.
    “You should have found the boy already,” a voice in Battle’s head said, shaking his focus. “Lola was right,” Sylvia counseled. “You’re distracted from the purpose and you’re going to get everyone killed.”
    Battle shook his head, disagreeing, trying to free his mind of his wife’s criticism. “I’m not getting anyone killed.” He crawled on all fours to the back of the Humvee’s bed. He braced himself with one hand and then set himself between a supply bag and a pair of large ten-gallon gasoline canisters.
    “You’re plotting this as a direct action instead of a simple hostage rescue,” Sylvia’s voice argued. “And you’re sanitizing it. This isn’t some high-value extraction, Marcus. You’re trying to return a son to his mother.”
    Battle clenched his jaw and swung Inspector into position. He looked through the scope, adjusting the focal length to get a good look at the pursuing horsemen. They were armed with Brownings and revolvers. One of them, on the left of the formation, was carrying an AR assault rifle. That one was wearing a brown hat. He was a posse