Page 157 of Dustwalker
Those years, those hardships, had not prepared Lara for her first glimpse of her old home after months away.
The morning sun had not yet crested the horizon, leaving the sky a dull, dreary gray. The hobbled shacks were dark shapes against that sky, grave markers for the not-yet dead. Even the people who weren’t sick or starving here were dying. She’d never forget the despair that had gripped her during her time here. Only Tabitha had kept Lara from succumbing to it…but she’d been claimed by this place, too.
For all her strength and toughness, Tabitha had ended up as another body atop the growing heap.
Newton and handful of men had broken off to wait on the outskirts of the slums while Lara guided Cooper and his team along the narrow dirt paths between the shacks. Before leading her group to the water pump at the center of town, she had a stop to make.
The metal of Lara’s ring, back on the twine dangling around her neck, brushed against her skin beneath her shirt. It was a reminder of what she stood to lose—everything. She and Ronin hadn’t said goodbyethis morning. They’d expressed it all to one another last night, through both their words and their bodies.
She adjusted her hood and dropped her hand to the pistol on her thigh, focusing on the texture of its grip rather than the stenches of rot and human waste.
People were just beginning to emerge from their homes. Even in the dim light, Lara noted the recognition in some of their eyes. What did they see? The thin, desperate waif she’d been, or the healthy, well-fed woman she’d become?
Or did some of them see a walking corpse?
Lara forced her gaze ahead as she neared her destination. She had a clear mission, and it required her full attention. Gary and Kate had always been kind to Lara, and they were well liked within the community. If she could convince them to join her, it’d be a damn good start.
Her steps faltered as their shack came into view.
“No…” she breathed.
Warlord’s symbol, the fusion of a skull and a gear, was on their door in red paint that had dripped like blood.
Heart pounding in her ears, Lara rushed across the remaining distance and fumbled to shove the door aside.
The foul odor of old blood assaulted her nostrils when she entered. Behind her, the bootsteps of her escort were frantic as they hurried to catch up.
A faint light came from the small secondary room. A dark, masculine figure stepped in front of it, a metal blade glinting in his hand as he approached her.
She sucked in a sharp breath.
The man stopped abruptly. “Lara?”
Her eyes flared as she recognized Gary’s voice, though it brought little relief. “What happened?”
He moved past her, toward the entryway. She gestured for the soldiers to hang back before Gary slid the door into back place.
He turned to her. The faint light caught upon his features. He was haggard, with dark circles beneath his eyes. His gaze shimmered with sorrow, but there was something deeper, something fiery, within it.
“They’re gone,” he grated.
Lara’s heart stuttered. “Maggie?”
Dropping his eyes, he nodded.
Sweet-faced Maggie, who’d always offered Lara a kiss and a gap-toothed smile? A child who was one of the few sources of light and joy in Cheyenne, an innocent life who hadn’t yet been touched by hardship?
Lara’s throat was tight and raw when she asked, “Kate, too?”
Gary ran a shaky hand over his face. “I don’t… I don’t know. She’s…not well.”
“She’s alive?”
He nodded.
Lara hesitated, nearly silenced by the horror of her next question. “The…baby?”
“They found out.” He squeezed his eyes shut, and tears spilled from their corners. “Somehow, they found out. We were so careful, Lara, but those fuckers still found out. He wanted to make an example of us, and he…”
