The Day After Never - Covenant (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

with a stick, laughing with another child at the unexpected entertainment.
    When they reached the trading post, they dismounted and tied their horses to a lamppost that had been bent toward the ground at shoulder level. A painted sign for Tucker’s Trading hung over one of the steel-barred windows, but the post was closed. Cano noted the heavy chain securing the entrance and sniffed the air, searching the street for the source of the smell.
    “Eggs,” he growled to Luis, who nodded.
    “Yeah.”
    Cano walked to the end of the block, where several plastic tables had been set up on the crumbling sidewalk. A woman with skin the color of saddle leather nodded to them as they sat.
    “That’s the menu,” she said, pointing at a blackboard leaning against the wall with a few items scrawled across it. “Prices negotiable, depending on what you got.”
    “Ammo,” Cano said. “We want four of the biggest farmhand breakfasts you can manage.”
    She sized him up and named a price in ammunition.
    Cano nodded and counted out the shells. “That do it?”
    “Be back in a few with your food,” she said, scooping the ammo into her apron and disappearing into the storefront.
    Ten minutes later they were feasting on eggs swimming in grease, accompanied by a small mountain of fresh potatoes slathered with a pungent gravy. They ate like it was their last meal, cleaning their plates in no time. The woman returned to collect the empties and offered a grudging smile. “Anything else?”
    “What time does the trading post open?”
    “Oh, probably in about half an hour. Never know with Tucker.”
    “Can we get more water?”
    “For another two rounds, you can drink as much as you like.”
    Twenty minutes later a short man with a small potbelly shuffled up to the trading post on foot, accompanied by three gunmen with the casual swagger of professional fighters. The man unlocked the chain, pushed the doors open, and disappeared inside.
    Cano and Luis strode to the entrance while the two Crew thugs remained at the makeshift diner.
    “You open?” Luis called into the dark space.
    “Yeah. What you want?” a voice replied.
    Cano stepped into the building, with Luis on his tail. The interior was bigger than it looked from the outside – a former auto parts store, based on the configuration. They approached a long counter and considered the steel racks of merchandise stretching into the gloom behind. The small man looked them over, a practiced half smile in place. “Help you with something?”
    “We need supplies. Jerky, dry goods, water purification tablets. And information,” Cano said.
    “Got the first three,” the man said. “Depends what you’re after on the last bit.”
    “Couple of dead men north of here in a truck stop. I need to know who they are.”
    The little man shrugged. “First I heard of it.”
    “And we need a radio. Shortwave. Good antenna, not handheld.”
    “Don’t have one. Sorry. How much jerky you want?”
    “Enough for four men for…a week.”
    “Same with the rest?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Won’t be cheap.”
    “Wasn’t expecting a bargain.” Cano paused. “What about the radio? Someone around here have one?”
    “Over by city hall. Guy charges an arm and a leg, but it works. Look for the antenna. Can’t miss it.”
    Several other men entered the trading post while one of Tucker’s helpers was collecting the provisions, and Luis engaged with them, letting them know that they were looking for someone who could help identify the two dead men. The new arrivals seemed interested at the mention of pay, but balked when Luis told them where the bodies were – apparently nobody was willing to go north, outside the city limits, to check, no matter how attractive the offer.
    Cano paid for the supplies with one of the AK-47s he’d retrieved from his fallen men, along with two STANAG magazines with sixty rounds in them – an exorbitant price, to be sure, but immaterial at the moment. He wanted