After many weeks of travel Bennett and his men reached Wentworth without major incident. They made camp in the same place that Gareth and Dwayne had selected on the previous foray to the silo. The ruined walls of the old supermarket kept out the wind, and they relaxed with anticipation of what they may discover tomorrow. Bennett was very intent on getting into the military base as soon as possible.

  Todd was just happy to be finally mended and on the trail again with his warlike companions. It was not quite the days of old, but the travel had lifted his spirits, and it felt good to have a fixed purpose again. His shoulder had given him much trouble after the arrow wound of a few months prior, and he had some difficulty now moving his arm which was a hindrance, even after Raissa’s expert care. He wished idly he had a woman, he had on occasion got to share the more communal ones. However, he was among the lowest-ranked men in the band, and he had to be satisfied with the leavings of others.

  Pig had been excited to take this mission after the last raid had fired his blood for even more adventure. He had been for the most part relegated to ‘Valley business,’ for the past few years. Rarely leaving the camp’s confines. His duties were for the most part background ones, keeping the slaves in line, which he did with great zeal, and butchering the beasts they all consumed.

  He had never been the same since his accident years back, a high-speed vehicle pursuit that went very wrong. Pig received a head injury, and lost an eye, somehow though he lived and recovered most of his faculties, but he was never quite the same. He was the eldest of all the men, joining forces with Wezley Bennett as one of his initial followers. Even back then Pig could sense the greatness in the man, who was already more than six feet in stature and still not finished filling out. He had followed him on a mad trail of blood into the wastes, and he had enjoyed every moment.

  Gareth just wanted to get this segment of the mission over with. He didn’t enjoy the prospect of moving such dangerous weapons to another site. Anything could go wrong, hell, all the jostling on the cart could possibly cause the unthinkable. He was not deathly afraid like Dwayne was, but he understood the risks. The others had not witnessed Warren’s demise after all. So as he lay down in his bedroll he thought of happier things. Like a victory at the fortress, and the women to be had there, a fitting replacement for the pretty and svelte Maya as he closed his eyes in lascivious thoughts.

  Will was happy to just be doing something different. Yeah, there were still endless arrow shafts to be made, leather armor to be sewn or mended, and bows that needed repair. But tonight he sat looking out on a different vista, smoking a concoction he had made, and was content.

  Nathan huddled against his Master’s warm, leather-clad thigh, it was immense, possibly the size of Nathan’s own waist. He placed his face against the well-worn and stitched leather, and closed his jade-green eyes, breathing the man’s scent deeply. He lived for this man, he had now become his object of unwavering devotion and fealty. He thought about the terror of the Wolf Lord’s fort and all the dodging and maneuvering he had to do there to survive. Here things were simple, please the big man and be protected and loved.

  His twisted mind strayed to rather delicious thoughts, on what they would do on their return to the fortress. How they would wrest power from the foundering old cripple, and his evil cohort Victor Cross. He was imagining many scenarios as he rubbed against his master in excitement.

  Bennett's black-gloved hand strayed to the horny boy who was rubbing against him in his passion. He ran his fingers through Nathan’s silk-soft hair, stroking and caressing it lightly. “Soon, boy, soon.” Was all he said in assurance.

  *****

  Dwayne was up early the next morning long before the others stirred. His mind was restless, so he spent the time burning off his nervous energy exploring, trying to get his mind off the terrible mission that was close at hand. He scoured the nearby streets and dilapidated buildings, there was much to see. It appeared the town which once was quite large, had been completely abandoned for many years. This seemed rather strange to the young man, there was a large body of convenient water nearby, one would have thought that any survivors would have resettled here, and yet they hadn't, why?

  Through the silent streets, he walked, bow in hand, if he could bag a rabbit that would be a boon. Mostly though he held his weapon at the ready as an assurity of his safety. Urban environments were the most deadly to traverse. So many hiding places for unexpected enemies. One never knew when danger would strike, and Dwayne had not lived this long because he was the careless kind. As he strolled the broken sidewalks, blowing with refuse, he thought of all the men who were not with him today, Angus, Aran, Sean, Warren, and a plethora of others. Some whose names he remembered, and some that he did not. Their faces though were still indelibly etched into his mind.

  He passed by a clothing store, it had been ransacked long ago, of course. The bright promotional signs faded over time, but there were myriads of stock still lying about unclaimed. He decided that good clothing could be useful, so he broke out the worst of the jagged glass and stepped cautiously inside. The sticky gossamer of spider webs stuck to his face, they were unpleasant but a good sign. Their presence meant that there had been no one through here recently.

  As he was thinking this, a large black and white bird that had been roosting in the rafters above, took to panicked flight. He jumped and aimed his bow at the point of the disturbance. The bird fluttered loudly about the ceilings and finally flew outside. The ruined emporium once again settled into silence.

  He cast his eyes about the store, stepping carefully over the broken glass, and began to look about. Most of the clothing racks had been knocked to the ground. The attire was in a twisted tangle, faded by time, and pulled from the coat hangers. Nature had intruded here, sand blew in from the broken windows, and animals and the intrusion of stormwater had fouled much of the merchandise.

  To the darker reaches at the back of the store he ventured. There were rows of shelves here and of all things boots and shoes. Most of the shoe boxes had been pulled down, and the contents taken over the years. However, a few pairs remained. There were though many odd pairs. What had happened to the other ones he did not know, maybe they were simply display shoes, and their matching ones were someplace out the back?

  Shoes had become very rare and valuable, one could not traverse the hot sand or rocky terrain without them, this was a treasure trove. Unfortunately, the women's shoes were of no use and very much outnumbered the men's selection. Many of the middle sizes were gone, and only the smaller or very large footwear remained. He eyed a pair of dusty Nike’s hidden up on a top shelf, they were to his happiness a size ten and fit him well. He would take them and tell the others of his find, there was possibly footwear to be had here for everyone with a bit of judicious searching. He found a few pairs of wearable socks on the way out, those too were much sought after. He would have much to tell his clan.

  After his exploration of the clothing store Dwayne had reached an area of housing, just on the verge of the commercial district. The buildings thinned out, making way for imperfect lines of broken fences, and larger yards with rambling unkempt gardens. A thick patch of bright green leaves beckoned him growing in a side yard, and colonizing the gaps between the concrete.

  He carefully studied the one-story brick home that sat on the property and peered through the broken windows to be doubly sure he was safe. He then stood and listened for a time. Satisfied there was no one there, he went to investigate the bright foliage. These were mint plants, just as he had thought. Dwayne rubbed some of the leaves on his hands to be doubly certain, and they gave off a wonderfully refreshing aroma. These were a useful windfall, they would make delicious mint tea. Pleased with his find he gathered up a large bunch, he would dry some for later, and use some fresh for this morning’s brew.

  In the next yard, he spied an old gnarled orange tree. There had been other fruits once, but the majority of them looked dead. The privacy fence had fallen to the ground, so it was easy for him to make his way directly into the adjoining property. The large bright citrus had held on all winter, they were sweet and firm. He picked one and peeled it, again being wary of his surroundings. His eyes never left the back of the ruined domicile lest he be surprised, but there was no one there. This was a predictable theme it would seem in this town.

  The juicy citrus exploded in his mouth in a cacophony of flavor, Dwayne ate the juicy flesh ravenously. It was delightfully delicious, and he peeled a second one, as the first one had only been a prelude to him satisfying the desire for this rare taste. He plucked as many as he could carry bunched in the front of his upturned shirt, and returned to the campsite.

  The men who had just awoken were sitting in a circle on improvised seats of cement block, discussing today's plans. Dwayne laid his burden down before them smiling with his rare find, the men hardly believing what he had brought back this morning.

  “There are new shoes to be had in the center of the town, socks too if we look.” Dwayne pointed proudly at his new pair of Nike’s and placed the cache of socks in the shopping bag on the ground for the others to see and peruse.

  “I’d love me some new shoes.” Todd interjected.

  Dwayne then unloaded his shirtfront, and the oranges rolled into the soft sand.

  “Ooh oranges!” Will exclaimed, “I can’t tell you the last time I had one of those.”

  In no time the men were all reaching hungrily for the fruit, very few remained by the time they were sated.

  On hearing the plans for the day, Dwayne alluded to the fact that maybe he should go hunting for more useful items in the town, and perhaps shoot some game. Suggesting anything but to go back down into the dreaded silo. Usually, the men would have assented. Dwayne after all was the best marksman present, so naturally the hunting would have fallen to him. Bennett was about to agree, but Gareth put a wrench in Dwayne’s plans, telling his leader that Dwayne was the only one there with an uncanny sense of direction, and it would be needed underground.

  Dwayne was crestfallen, but what could he do? He had little option but to cheerily comply.

  *****

  The entrance to the silo was just as they had left it. It truly seemed this place was abandoned. Dwayne held back and meandered about on the grassy slope facing the entrance, he was trying to remember where Warren had perished. However, he could not find the site. The group was talking and making torches. It would be some time yet before he must accompany them. The young man was anxious. He was happy to leave it until the very last moment before entering that subterranean world. That was when he noticed something very odd near a large ironstone boulder.

  He walked closer to what he thought was an exceptionally dark shadow, but it was not a shadow at all, it was a small pool. As he stood there something bubbled and hissed from beneath the stone. It looked on closer inspection to be a pool of tar. Dwayne ever cautious, decided to poke at the substance seeping out from under the boulder with a nearby stick, and to his dismay the stick did not become coated in the sticky-looking substance, it merely evaporated into a black gas.

  “Hey guys, come over here.” He shouted to the others, looking back over his shoulder.

  The men stood, looking toward him, but did not make any attempt to leave the silo entrance.

  “We haven't got time for oddities of nature Dwayne, get your ass over here!” Bennett jibed.

  “It’s not, you really need to see this Sir.”

  The men came down the hill reluctantly. All except Nathan who merely sat, waiting for the others to return. Bennett was annoyed at being distracted from the real purpose of their mission.

  “What is it!” Bennett said curtly.

  “I don’t know, but it’s not natural.”

  “It’s tar or old oil.” Said Will, “that’s all. Probably someone dumped the sump of an old truck or something.”

  Dwayne shook his head, the many white bones plaited into his black dreadlocks made clinking sounds, the others were about to walk away quickly losing interest. “I say it’s not, look at this.” He took up the branch and plunged it into the pool of slow-seeping blackness. It dove in a lot deeper than the small pool appeared to be. That alone piqued the men's interest, but when Dwayne withdrew the branch it held a vague outline of its former self for but a moment and then evaporated into black vapor. “See!”

  “Holy shit,” said Will.

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  “What the fuck…” Gareth added. “Didn't see this here last time.”

  All the men backed away from the strange pool.

  “Then why isn't the rock dissolving?” Bennett quizzed, as he paced about it at some distance trying to see more.

  “I dunno.” Will added a hand on his stubbled chin, and brow furrowed with thought.

  “It’s probably something they dumped, some kind of toxic waste.” Bennett said at last. “Best we leave it be. Now let’s go.”

  *****

  Nathan had begun to have very vivid and surreal dreams since he had arrived in Wentworth. Of course, his Master was used to the young man’s nighttime phantasms, and his thrashing about at all hours. Nathan’s P.S.T.D was to be expected, given his past. It seemed though of late his charge had been more restless than ever...

  The impossibly tall man stood over him, he was a giant. Nathan was five foot nine, and this man dwarfed him. Clad in dull, slate gray, fantastically engraved steel armor, his shoulders were wide with the serpent-headed pauldrons he wore. He had long straight black hair that was tinged with a shade of lusterless green. The color of decay, and his eyes were of complete greenish light that glowed even in the darkness. So much so that one could not distinguish his iris or pupils. His saturnine face was pointed and lean, lips thin and blackened, drawn hard against his mouthful of disturbing pointed teeth, and his ears were slightly pointed at their tip, peeking out through his midnight hair. He was to Nathan’s mind a vision sent from terror to torment him.

  “You were always such a disappointment, so ugly to my eyes.” He scolded in a hateful voice. “Why is it my son was born so small and weak, tossed about on the upper planes like flotsam and jetsam. Bent so easily to the whims of others.” Followed by a cruel dry cackle, most heinous.

  Nathan wanted to answer, to placate this horrible yet handsome specter that wished to claim him as his own, but he couldn’t.

  “Well boy there is something I want you to do. Listen carefully.”

  Nathan looked up shivering with fear.

  “There is a dark pond on the hill above, you know of it yes?”

  From somewhere Nathan found the will to nod in the affirmative.

  “I want you to go there. I have something for you. Reach in and it will be there.

  *****

  Before light the next morning Nathan awoke. He lay staring up at the fading stars above dwelling on his night terror. Comfortable and safe in his master’s embrace, listening to the big man’s rhythmic breathing. It was deliciously warm next to his master's body beneath the blanket. There was a light desert frost in the air and on the ground. Nathan could see the plumes of his breath. He was reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed, but he made himself. He would not be missed for a short time. He had to satisfy himself that the dream was no more than that, just a dream.

  He pulled on his tattered and dusty trench coat that could well do with a good laundering, grabbed his shoes, and headed up the grassy hillock. The party had moved their camp from the ruins of the old supermarket to the hillside where the entrance to the bunker stood, so they could easily load the cart. It was almost fully loaded, and soon they would depart.

  In the half-darkness, Nathan had some difficulty locating the pool of blackness to begin with. He had not gone with the others to inspect it yesterday, and now he wished that he had. There were many boulders of significant size littering the hill face, and he had to look beneath dozens before he found the actual site.

  There it sat, a puddle of extreme darkness, it certainly didn’t look at all safe to Nathan. With caution he cast a small pebble into the unknown substance, it hissed and bubbled and disappeared below the surface. Next, he threw a eucalyptus leaf on top of the black sludge. It slowly turned to black vapor, burning with a greenish flame. Finally, he poked at it with a twig which completely disappeared.

  Looking at the remaining stub of the twig he decided he didn’t care about the dream, he was not going to foolishly do as it instructed. That substance whatever it was ate things like acid, and his fingers were precious to him. There was no way he was reaching into that black muck for anyone.

  He ran back to the camp like he had been chased by a ghost.

  *****

  Ten warheads in total were retrieved from the defense silo. Along with the recovered ammunition, weapons, and other assorted goods from the township, it was as much as the ox cart could handle safely. It was a tough job to bring everything to the surface. Every trip carrying the heavy payloads Dwayne was certain would be his last. The other men who had not seen Warren succumb to the deadly nerve agent had little care, handling the missiles in ways that made Dwayne's heart do somersaults in his chest. It was not that Dwayne was a coward, but he had never trusted the machinations of science and men who found endless ways to kill. He far preferred his chances pitted against Mother Nature. She was a foe he could at least understand.

  It had taken the men almost a week to explore the silo and gather its treasures. With a larger party, they had managed to open some more of the sealed doors, though many more remained tight shut. Bennett pondered what secrets the site still held, he was sure there were many.

  In all their searching still no inspiration came to them of how the sarin gas canisters could be deployed to any effectiveness. The only way they could think of was to literally detonate them with a grenade, of which they recovered a few. However, this was a far from ideal solution, they were just as likely to die from the result as the enemy. A better way had to be found, and Bennett wrestled with this conundrum.

  *****

  The weather had been warm but kind, the late spring was fast disappearing into the long hot summer. They left Wentworth with a cart piled high of useful plunder, the ghost town had yielded more treasure than the best of their raids. The men for the time being were content.

  They anticipated they would return to the Wolf Lord’s fort by the beginning of the heat. Deciding to travel by the river, for as long as they could on the return journey, at least until they must veer west. The grazing on the river flats was less marginal, water was abundant, and it was vital that the horses be strong enough to make the final push across the wastes when the time came.

  For many days the small party walked the river bank, under the welcome dappled shade of the huge river red gums, and lush drooping willow trees, whose fibrous masses of roots harbored delicious catfish and fat yabbies. They made camp by the lapping waters under the stars. The weather was dry and fine, but the mosquitoes were a menace. There was no evading them, nighttime's they came in droves, buzzing and biting. The men hid as best they could under their blankets in the vain hope of escaping the itching misery.

  Dwayne found plenty of game, there was good variety to be had here, from feral pig to emu and kangaroo, the occasional goanna, or the droves of rabbits whose warrens littered the dunes just inland. They did not go hungry.

  Days passed in this fashion, and it would by Dwayne's reckoning soon be time that they made the final turn west and back towards the familiar territory of their own valley and the Wolf Lord’s fort. Just one more evening by the river and they must deviate inland. The horses were in good condition, they would load as much water as they could carry, and hope it was enough.

  *****

  It was late afternoon, and they had made steady progress, the day was quite warm, and the flies bit. Will was driving the cart, lazily flicking the reins when the beasts wished to procrastinate, the men walked out in front. There was little talk as with any group that has been together a long time. There was little to say.

  Sharp-eyed Dwayne spotted it first, a reflection of something shiny. A hint of bright blue deep beyond the trees further along the river bank. Bennett raised his hand for the procession to stop. They were still very distant, but the stakes were high.

  Bennett at once began to snap orders. “Will, take the cart and secret it in the trees over there, then meet us back here. Nathan, Pig, and you Todd, I want you to wait with the cart, do not leave it for any reason! And guard it with your lives.”

  The selected men scattered to do their leader’s bidding, as silently as was possible. Will returned to Gareth, and Dwayne, who were checking and readying their weapons.

  “We could just go wide around them.” Will thought to suggest.

  “We haven't loaded water yet, and I don’t want the horses to have to drag the cart through the soft sands and mud that will be out there on the flats.” Bennett hissed, annoyed he had to explain the obvious.

  He pulled his Sig, checked the magazine, and tucked it back into his broad belt. “Absolute silence, we don’t need to be seen.”

  With that, they advanced.

  About two hundred feet from the objects Dwayne had sighted, the men hunkered down to carefully survey the area before them. No one spoke, the reflection had been the sun shining off a camper window, and the bright blue was that of a tarpaulin stretched over the camper to provide shade and possibly help keep out stormwater.

  The cumbersome Greyhound charter coach looked as though it had not moved for a very long time, the tires were shredded and perished on the rims. The white paint and chrome trim, oxidized and dull. Someone very ambitious in the past had taken some pretty off-beat trails to maneuver the huge bus down to the river. The window glass was complete, this was no wrecked vehicle left here by chance. It appeared it had been fitted out for everyday living, and had been parked up on the high ground just the other side of the heavy treeline, in the hope it would never flood. There was an array of solar panels mounted to the roof.

  “It’s quiet.” Dwayne whispered. “Seems abandoned.”

  Bennett squinted into the distance trying to detect any movement from within the coach. He was sure his henchman was possibly right. “I want the three of you to encircle the campsite, cover me, but remain unseen until I tell you it’s safe.”

  His men nodded and faded into the trees at his command.

  Bennett withdrew his trusty .45 and advanced on the campsite. The thick layer of newly shed gum leaves crunched under his boots, he made no effort at silence. The tarpaulin billowed and flapped in the slight breeze, and he walked toward the open bus door pistol at the ready, sweeping the area before him. He walked up the steps into the interior of the coach his boots again making a hollow metallic sound as he reached the walkway.

  He peered down through the guts of the coach, there was no one there. The gauzy and torn curtains flapped in the warm breeze, and somewhere above a colony of apostle birds fussed over their singular nest.

  The bus was mostly open, and benches ran down both sides cluttered with a plethora of items. What drew him almost immediately was the stand containing a soldering iron, whoever this was had a source of electricity, and dabbled in electronics. On further inspection the parts were everywhere, little boxes all neatly labeled in clear fishing tackle boxes. The leader felt a strong pulse of excitement, this was the kind of expertise he had been looking for!

  It was difficult not to be careless given his exciting discovery, but he made his way through the rest of the camper to the only closed-off rooms at the rear. Pushing the doors wide, scanning the crumpled unmade bed, and the tiny bathroom. These too were vacant of life.

  He again walked out into the bright sunlight and whistled, and his three men appeared as if from nowhere.

  “We are not to shoot this guy under any circumstance, understood!”

  His men nodded.

  “You all may as well rest and await his return.”

  *****

  Craig was enjoying the day, making his rounds, and checking his yabby nets. It was hard hot work, pulling up the large circular hessian bag nets against the force of the river current, but today's catch was bountiful. He picked up the large bluish crustaceans, mindful of their claws, placing them in a bucket, already thinking about how good they would taste. He would fish later and hopefully catch a few redfin, or a catfish, instead of the constant of fat, less desirable European carp.

  On the stroll back home he was thinking about fast food. My he missed it, what he would not do for some KFC or some Micky D’s right now. He could remember how good it all tasted, and in his mind, he would relive eating it all over again. Some things one just never forgot.

  He was startled to see as he approached his domicile, four men sitting in his chair and under the shade of his awning. They had seen him already, and he was too close to run, so he licked his lips nervously and gingerly approached. He saw the large leather and metal-clad giant rise from his only chair and his heart quailed. No good will come of this, he thought. As he caught sight of the pistol tucked into his wide belt.

  “Greetings,” he said timidly trying to sound affable. The last thing he wanted to do was provoke these wild strangers. He assumed if the men had wished to rob him, they would have already done so and departed. However that opened yet another can of worms in Craig's mind, maybe it was him they wanted?

  “Greetings,” Bennett responded walking forward. His cold eyes assessing.

  “Don’t see too many visitors out here,” Craig said nervously fingering the handle of the yabby bucket, his hands were already sweating with fear.

  “You have a nice set up here.” Bennett said expansively, gesturing around at the campsite, an insincere smile on his face.

  “It’s home,” Craig responded in a small voice.

  “I’m Wezley Bennett, and this is Will, Dwayne, and Gareth. It would appear that perhaps you could do some work for us?”

  “Work?” Craig questioned carefully, the hair on the back of his neck prickled.

  “Yes work, electronics, that’s what you do here isn't it?” Bennett pointed to the coach.

  “Well yes, mostly it’s just repairs to my own stuff these days, but I can make things too.”

  “Could you make a time delay detonator?”

  Craig winced at the request, but looking at these men it hardly seemed a surprising one.

  “Well yes, I suppose I could?”

  “What about multiples?”

  Craig nodded, “yes sure, if I have the parts.” He longed to swat at the flies but he didn’t feel fast moves would be in his best interest right now.

  “How long would it take?”

  “Oh, not long, a few hours, again parts permitting.”

  “What would you want in return?”

  Craig was fearful of this question, all he really wanted was these dangerous men to be gone from back whence they came. So he said rather carefully. “If I do this work for you guys, how about just leaving me be unharmed?”

  “That sounds like a great deal.” Bennett announced, very pleased with himself.

  *****

  As the evening drew in the men had brought up the cart, taking the horses from their traces, the hard-working animals would have one more good rest before the work truly began. Anything that was deemed dead weight was discarded from the load and left on the shore. Every available water container was filled to the brim. The potable water was boiled and stored.

  Bennett spent the evening watching Craig manufacture the small devices, and inhaling solder smoke. He had enough parts to make ten detonators, along with the detonation box which the men would use from afar.

  Craig did not wish to know what these violent-looking men had planned. He was absolutely horrified when he sighted the cart and its contents, but it was truly none of his business, he had come out here years ago to be left alone after all.

  It was about midnight by the time Craig had finished his work. He rose from his work desk and handed the detonators, and the electronic control unit to Bennett.

  “Now, you are going to use these in tandem with those grenades you have to set those suckers off.” Craig's eyes went to the window and alighting on the bombs in the cart. “These are just small charges, the grenade will do the work. I can’t guarantee it though. Those bombs were really made to be dropped from aircraft, and I have no real idea at just how much it will take to set them off.”

  Bennett nodded subtly, the detonators tiny in his large hands.

  “Now a word of caution, these batteries that power the box will only last so long. Batteries are scarce these days. If you take too long to use this they will be flat, keep them out of it until you are ready to use it and you should be fine.”

  Bennett nodded, he was very pleased. He looked out of the window to see his men in a circle by the fire, they would be bedding down shortly, he knew it would be a long day tomorrow as they left the easy river path. “Well Craig, I will call it a night.”

  Craig just nodded, regretting he had missed dinner, and once Bennett had left his camper he made his way to his unmade bed, and breathed a heavy sigh of relief, but not before locking his flimsy door behind him.