This was the first time July had left Haven since his return with Alister two months earlier. Passing through the canyon, the wasteland struck him like a heatwave, a gust of scorching air wrapping itself around his skin. This feeling had been so easy to forget, like a bad dream.
Red-Rock Lookout, when seeing it up close, was for the most part quite disappointing. It was certainly large and definitely a fortress, but as July passed under rotting walls and splintering turrets, he realised that it had the dishevelled air of an ancient shantytown. While traces of its original form still remained, the fact that the Raiders used this site to drink themselves dead and fight each other had ruined any integrity the place might have once had.
July stepped out of his vehicle to the aroma of tobacco and was greeted by Alister – the burly old man covered head to toe in dirt and soot smiled like he hadn’t smiled in years, gripping a cigar in his teeth. July was pleased to see that no one he recognised was dead. He embraced Tom and shook Wade and Charlie’s hands. The official report said that they had four wounded, zero casualties. Meanwhile the Raiders were six dead, ten captured and at least two dozen escaped.
“Funniest thing I ever saw,” said Alister. “Your girl Charlie picked off three of ‘em before they realised we were coming. Bastards sobered up real quick once the shooting started. Most surrendered, some fought, and the rest of ‘em fucked off.”
Ten gloomy-looking men and women knelt in a line with a handful of armed guards behind them. July carefully observed each prisoner for signs of anger or remorse, strength or weakness. He turned to the guards. “Take them somewhere secure. If you can help it, they’re not to be harmed.”
As the prisoners were led away, Alister walked alongside July, eyeing them cautiously. “Don’t expect any sympathy from raiders. They won’t care how many of their people you let live.”
“This isn’t about sympathy,” July pointed out.
“Good,” Alister went on. “Then give those prisoners the death they deserve. Make an example of them, hang their bodies outside the camp to intimidate the retaliation party.”
Wade overheard them and butted in. “Woah, now, hold on, we’re not savages, July, we can’t just execute these people and leave them out in the desert, the raiders will take it as an invitation.”
Alister lashed at Wade. “Feeling a little compassion for your old crew, boy?”
Wade drew back. “How can you doubt my loyalty after what I just did?”
“And what exactly did you do?” Alister spat.
“Enough!” July cut them both off. “The retaliation party is coming whether we like it or not, we don’t need to provoke them any further. The prisoners will be persuaded to join our ranks, and if they refuse they will be executed in a dignified manner. Right now, we need to focus on what to do when the retaliation party arrives.”
The entire group entered a dusty bunker that served as a command room and stood around a rectangular metal table.
“So, do you have a plan?” said Tom, with a slight grin. “I mean, you normally have a plan.”
July looked at Tom, then Wade, then Charlie, then Alister. “I have… part of a plan. Wade, until our scouts report what we’re up against, I’m going on your estimate.”
Wade thought for a moment. “Fifty men, makeshift weapons. Raiders have two major camps outside of Swine Town and their Execution Grounds: one is in the city, led by Leah Mackenzie, and the other is to the north of the city, led by a guy called Cutlass. Either one of these could be sent by Mitch to take Red-Rock back.”
“Fifty men,” said Charlie. “Won’t be easy but we have the advantage.”
“I don’t doubt that we can fend them off,” July agreed. “What I’m concerned about is resources. We can’t afford to lose any men or ammunition getting caught up in a siege. Here’s what I propose: first of all, we repair the walls and buildings; then, we have marksmen manning all the walls, any space we can’t fill up we place dummies there instead; at night I want all the lights on and all fires lit…”
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