The Day After Never - Purgatory Road (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

of his jerky on the ride and was used to long hours with an empty stomach, so the dearth of edibles didn’t faze him. He had no intention of eating anything served in the saloon – rather, he’d wanted to see how honest the old man was.
    He stowed his weapons and approached the doors. Inside, a guard with a fireplug physique gave him a cursory frisking as Lucas breathed through his mouth, the odor in the room nauseating. When the bouncer nodded him past, Lucas made for the bar and bought a bottle of rum, there being no beer or anything less than eighty proof available.
    Lucas took a small pull on the liquid, almost gagged at the taste, and then set it down on the plank and glanced at the crowd in the gloom. Two overhead fluorescent lamps that had seen better days provided scant illumination, which was probably just as well – the six women there more resembled losing kickboxers than female companionship, and the men ran the gamut from filthy and rangy to worse than he’d seen in anyone still alive.
    One of the whores looked him up and down and offered what Lucas supposed passed for a come-hither smile. He managed a small bemused smirk and looked away to where four Raiders were playing cards at the far end of the room. Lucas watched them for a hand and then felt a presence at his elbow. He turned slowly to find the prostitute at his side.
    “Well, hello there, cowboy. Buy a lady a drink?” she asked. Lucas tried not to gape at her meth-rotted teeth and the grime crusted in her hairline, and forced a smile to his lips.
    “Maybe in a few. Thinking about sitting in for a few hands.”
    “You can do that after. They’ll be there all night.”
    “Sorry. Not in the mood right now.”
    She slid a chipped glass toward him. “Make a little deposit for later?” she asked, indicating the rum.
    “Sure. Why not?” Lucas said, and splashed several inches into the cup.
    “I’m Lacey.”
    “Pleased to meet you.”
    “Save enough chips to go for a ride, okay?” she said. Her eyes were hungry, the whites yellowed from jaundice that matched her sickly pallor, and her skin was pocked with sores and blackheads.
    “Good advice,” Lucas allowed, and went back to watching the players. Lacey tossed back the rum like it was water, brayed an abrasive laugh, and sashayed over to her companions, all of whom were equally attractive, from what Lucas could make out.
    After ten minutes of sizing up the game, Lucas asked the bartender how to get chips. The man indicated a heavyset Raider at a small table in the corner with a bottle in front of him, and explained that “the mayor” was in charge of that, and to talk to him.
    Lucas walked over to the man and introduced himself. “Want to get in the game.”
    “Sure. What you got?”
    “Fifty rounds of .45, couple magazines of 5.56mm ball.”
    “Won’t stay in long with that.”
    “Not planning on losing.”
    The mayor nodded. “Bring it in. But no guns.”
    “I heard.”
    When Lucas returned with the ammunition, the mayor examined the bullets and then counted out twenty chips. “There you go.”
    Lucas eyed the tokens. “That’s it?”
    The mayor pointed at a sign by the back door that listed the value of chips in both guns and ammunition. “Everyone’s a winner here. You can trade ’em in on your way out, get your rounds back and then some if you know how to play.”
    “You own the place?”
    The mayor answered with a complacent smile. “That’s right.”
    “Only place to trade in town?”
    The Raider nodded. “One-stop shop.”
    “You got anything besides guns and ammo?”
    “Got everything you can imagine, and then some.”
    Lucas nodded. “Good to know.”
    “Whatever you want. Long as you got barter, sky’s the limit.”
    Lucas took his chips and sat down at the table. Three of the men were obviously Raiders, and the fourth was a trader whose leathery skin and blackened nail beds spoke to weeks on the road.
    “Gents. What’s the ante and the game?” Lucas