Excerpt: Ashes to Dust

Echo knew something was wrong when the coach pulled over just before dawn. He didn’t know exactly how far they’d traveled while he slept, but by his guess they couldn’t be very far past the Nevada border.
Old Bruce swung out of the front seat, pulled open Echo’s door and dragged him out by the arm. “End of the road, kid,” he said. They were in the desert, somewhere. No landmarks, barely any road and even in the dim light, Echo could see that no buildings or signs of inhabitation were anywhere nearby.
“I paid for a ride to the California Freehold,” Echo protested.
“We ain’t going that far,” Bruce said. “Bon suerto.” He slammed the coach door and whistled through two fingers. The driver cracked the whip and the horses were moving as soon as Bruce swung himself back into his seat.
“Hey!” Echo pounded on the coach door. “You can’t leave me!” He chased the coach as it swung wide and turned back the way they’d come. He looked for a hand or foothold, some way to attach himself to the coach and get a ride at least to the nearest town. He found none, though, and soon the horses picked up speed and outpaced him. “You’ve still got my bag, you fucking whoresons!” he screamed uselessly at the cloud of dust heading away.
Shit. The two satcomm tablets he’d stowed in his rucksack were all he had of value. He’d hoped to sell them when he reached the Freehold and have something to live on until he could find work.
Of course now that he’d been dumped by the roadside just outside the Wasted Lands it was a non-issue, since it was unlikely he’d live long enough to ever need money. And while he could appreciate the irony of him dying of heat, he was pretty damn pissed that his new beginning would also be his end.
He chucked a couple of rocks in the direction of the coach and screamed obscenities at it until his throat ached, at which time he remembered he didn’t have any water and if he wanted a shot at surviving this, he’d best shut up and start walking. He trudged along the road following the coach tracks, for lack of a better option.
When the sun rose, he could see for miles in every direction and he realized how truly fucked he was.
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