The Wasteland Soldier, Book 1, A Fractured World

Twenty Three

The group watched from the mountainside as the column of six vehicles slowed and then stopped next to the battered jeep Tomas and Emil had driven. Once more, the Cleric had not journeyed with all his tribe. Stone wondered if they were conserving the supply of black energy they carried.

The Cleric stepped from the largest vehicle and Emil recognised him instantly. The iron grey beard. The long iron grey hair plaited down his back. His tall frame. His neat clothes. His arms covered with ink.

She felt her stomach crawl as he placed one boot in front of the other.

"It's him, Tomas."

Her words were little more than a hoarse whisper. She had watched this man rip into her life, inflict agony and death on friends and loved ones. She clamped a hand across her mouth. Both Tomas and Nuria peered down at the tall man who walked with purpose towards the wrecked jeep. The Cleric stooped and looked inside. He straightened his back and stared up in their direction, hiding amongst the rocks and brush.

"I recognise this vehicle," he said, his booming voice echoing through the mountain crags. "It is one of ours."

Emil shivered as he spoke, his words scaling the featureless paths and winding tracks, the dead trees and rocky verges. She shrank down and Tomas curled his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"This belonged to my warriors, the ones I sent after you, Tongueless Man."

A sweet scent wafted into Stone's nose and he sniffed as Nuria moved alongside him.

"Who are they?" she said.

He ignored her.

"If this car is here," said the Cleric. "Then you are here, here with your little family of freaks."

He paced as he spoke, widening his arms, gesturing theatrically with his hands.

"Will you face me, Tongueless Man?"

He waited for a response but Stone would not be goaded.

"You killed many of my warriors back in Ford and you killed my woman, Bann. I miss her dearly."

Stone's face showed no reaction. It had been Marge who had shot Bann, but he supposed it didn't really matter.

"Well, show yourself, Tongueless Man, legend of the wasteland. Isn't that what they call you?"

Nuria glanced at Stone. Was he the Tongueless Man? What kind of title was that to have?

"Give me the mutant, and I will spare your life. Gallen is not for her. She is a thing. To be destroyed. Gallen is a beautiful place ..."

"Go back to Chett," said Stone, to Nuria, rifle in hand, lining up the shot. "This isn't your world."

His finger went to the trigger but suddenly he heard movement from behind. He swung round and immediately fired. Tomas peeled away from Emil, snatched his crossbow and released a bolt as a large number of warriors leapt at them. They must have found a short way up the mountainside as the Cleric spewed his words. Dressed in trousers and long shirts, hide and fur, they carried knives and machetes, swords and axes. The Cleric had forbidden them to use guns. He wanted prisoners, battered and cut, but alive.

Stone's rifle was useless at such short range. He drew his revolver and fired until it was empty, gunning down four of them, bodies twisting and sprawling in the dirt. He glimpsed Nuria wrestle a warrior to the ground, take his machete and slice his throat open. He was impressed. She swung at another, hacked at him repeatedly until he was still. As she whirled round to attack again she was clubbed from behind. Stone grabbed an axe and sunk its edge into a warrior's neck. Tomas had no time to reload his crossbow so he used it as a club and struck one warrior down but then they grabbed Emil and a sword blade was held to her throat and the fight went out of him.