by Dawn, Maira
"All right. Just remember, though, your momma's got chores for you to do."
"Yes, sir."
Dylan rose and started to ruffle Jesse's hair again but stopped short. "Okay then, see ya later. Keep an eye open."
Kelsey sat a hand on Ebony's soft fur and looked around the clearing as the men walked away. The neighbors bustled around the area building, cleaning, cooking, and gardening. This was a good place to be. It was safe.
Well, as safe as anywhere was anymore.
3
Tom
Tom was tired of the drive down the mountain. Tired of leaving Tricia, tired of walking through that jail door and tired of seeing those three men, if that's what a person wanted to call them. There'd been a significant portion of those on Cole's Mountain who had pushed for the death penalty to be enforced on the day Wade and Dylan had dragged these men here. Tom couldn't say he hadn't considered it, but it was important to him to have this done the proper way, if at all possible.
The Cole brothers were among those who pushed for getting this thing done. Tom could tell it'd taken everything Dylan had to bring them back alive, especially since he'd been bringing Skye back half-dead.
There was a long list of charges against the three men. Not only what they had done to Jesse and Skye, not the least of which was the attempted murder against her and the actual murder of Frankie, Jesse's father. In addition, the men had boasted about committing a host of other crimes as they had chased down Skye and Jesse. Tom reckoned it was a good enough confession for him.
He hoped any judge who made it here would feel the same way.
The doc had only half patched up Tony, mainly because he hadn't expected him to live more than a few miles travel down the road, let alone the whole way back. But he had made it. Now Tony rotted in a cell along with the other two, still the orneriest one in there. As mean and sneaky as the sheriff knew him to be, he never turned his back on that one.
Tom gathered up the meals from the back seat of his cruiser and went through the front door of the Colton jail. His deputy sat in a chair, feet up on the desk, and a book in his hand.
Tom tried to rotate the officers, so this lonely post wouldn't be so bad. Even once the culprits were taken care of, someone would still need to be there to watch for anyone with criminal intent moving through the area and for gangs of Infected looking for trouble.
Tom handed the deputy a plate of food he’d kept hot in a thermal bag and a couple of snacks. “How’s everything been?”
“Quiet out on the streets. I haven’t even heard a piece of trash blow by.” The deputy hooked his thumb toward the entry to the cells. “They’re another story. Every so often they get all riled up. I just ignore them and it calms down.”
Tom tipped his head to the officer. “I appreciate you volunteering.”
“It’s all part of the job.”
There was no question in Tom’s mind that this was probably the stupidest situation he had been in. Making the hour trip down the mountain almost every day seemed idiotic. But as of right now, Colton had the jail, the only controlled place to keep these animals.
Tom put a hand to the smooth door handle and heaved a sigh. People kept asking if he wanted them dead, as if he questioned that these three deserved death sentences. There was no doubt that he wanted them in a grave—many times over for what they did to his cousin. But Tom was a lawman and, as such, had sworn to uphold the law. More than that, he believed in it. And sheriff or not, he was not going to just up and kill people without the proper procedure. Not until he knew, without a doubt, there was no proper procedure to be had.
So, he'd been on the radio to all the towns in the area and finally located a judge. What's more, one willing to travel to Colton. It seemed though the regular courts had locked their doors as more and more people got sick, this judge had started an old-fashioned circuit.
The magistrate added Colton to his rounds. He was only a few stops away. If everyone was patient, these men would get the judgment they deserved.
Tom pulled the door open and entered the cell area, scanning it with a sharp eye. On seeing him, Tony rose and limped to the bars closest to Tom. "Coward! Keeping us in here! There ain’t no law. Be a man, fight me!”
Ignoring the taunts, Tom crouched and quickly scooted Tony’s packaged meal through the bars attached to the grey concrete floor and walked on. Tony stretched through the bars up to his shoulder as he tried to reach the sheriff, but Tom made a wide berth.
Calvin whined his usual excuses, "I'm not a bad man. I just got caught up with bad people. I can mend my ways. I was a sales guy before the world went to crap. I'm not normally like this!"
The slimy man wasn't kidding anyone. He'd be up to the same evil tricks if he ever got out of here.
Pete was quiet, as usual, with the typical confused expression covering his face. What was he confused about? Being in jail? Or that murder was a punishable offense?
The sheriff gritted his teeth as he picked up the customary mess they'd made. It was their ritual to throw dishes and leftover food out of their cells and onto the block wall across from it. Tom had solved part of the problem by cutting their rations and serving everything in plastic containers. Still, they did what they could.
Tom grumbled to himself that this would all be over soon. As he left the room, he glanced over his shoulder. He hated these men, and any like them. He always had, but the anger burned hotter now. The world was in turmoil. People needed all the help they could get. And there were goons like this out there looking to become tyrants.
Tom said goodbye to his deputy, promising to send his replacement down in the morning. As he got into his cruiser, he glanced into the back seat. A few days ago, he’d caught Jesse trying to sneak a ride to town. The boy had refused to tell him why, so he’d told Jesse he needed to let Skye know what he was up to. Jesse hadn’t been too happy with him about that. Tom slid the cruiser into drive, reminding himself he needed to talk to Skye about the incident.
4
Jesse’s Request
Jesse punched the back cushion of the couch he sat on. It'd been five days since Tom had said he must tell Skye why he tried to sneak into town. He had two days left.
Another punch. He didn’t want to tell her, she might say he couldn’t go, and he didn’t want to hear that. Or she might get really mad. He didn’t know what Skye did when she was really mad—at him, anyway.
Jesse rubbed his hand across his stomach, it ached. The same way it used to hurt when he knew his dad would be angry. But that was stupid. Skye wasn’t going to wale on him, that much he knew for sure.
The springs in the couch groaned as he twisted and fell against the cushions. Skye turned from the stove to him. “Jesse, you want to give that couch a break? It’s not like we can easily buy another one if you beat this one to death.”
His face turned from her, Jesse rolled his eyes and blew out a long sigh. “You just go to a neighbor's empty house and take one. No big deal.”
“Well, how about we take just care of the one we have?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jesse saw Dylan and Skye exchange a look. Here we go. Jesse, is there anything the matter? he parroted her words in his mind before she actually said them.
“Jesse—”
“I’m fine, geez! I get a little rough with the couch, and you wanna have a session!”
“Okay, you’re right. That’s unfair of me, not everything requires a heartfelt conversation, but if there’s anything you need to discuss, you know you can,” Skye said.
Jesse gritted his teeth, then spoke in careful measured tones, “Yes, I know.”
There was another glance between the two of them before they went back to making dinner. From his chair in the corner of the living room, Wade cleared his throat and drew Jesse’s attention to him. The man didn’t say a word but raised an eyebrow at Jesse.
“Oh, for—" Jesse said before jumping up off the couch and going out the door,
making sure that it slammed with just the right amount of force.
As he went, he heard Skye say, “Jesse! What? Wade, what did you do?”
With amusement in his voice, Wade answered her, “All I did was look at the kid.”
Jesse hid out at the Doc’s house overnight, sending word of his whereabouts through the men who kept the late watch of the community. Over breakfast, he talked the problem over with Kelsey, who encouraged him to get the talk with Skye over with. The look she'd given him said he was getting way too worked up about it, and when she told him, he just needed to calm down, he finally got the message and headed home.
Wade was already gone when he got there, but Dylan and Skye were cleaning up after breakfast. Both offered hellos as Jesse dragged his feet across the floor toward them.
He’d wanted to lead up to what he had to say nice and slow, gentle in the way he said it. He'd thought of tons of different ways to say it, but what came out was, “I want to see those men that—those men in jail. And I’m gonna do it whether you like it or not.”
Jesse winced. The words had come out rough, belligerent even. But he was still glad it was said.
But what the boy had been hoping for was psychologist Skye, calm and controlled. That is not what he got.
The words hit Skye like a punch to the stomach. It took a moment for her to catch her breath. Her mind spun. She and Jesse had worked so hard on all the damage from his father. Couldn’t he see the danger in seeing these men? Even if all Calvin, Tony, Pete could do was hurl angry words, those words could scar him for life, as some of his father’s had. Jesse already had so many painful memories, why did he want to add one more?
All her training forgotten, the therapist left, and the mother stayed.
“No. Absolutely not.”
Dylan groaned. “Skye, hear the boy out.”
“No. This could do so much—”
“Skye!” Dylan’s hard voice cut through her swirling thoughts.
She looked up at him, her own sure gaze battling with his and opened her mouth to argue. Before she could utter a word, he took her arm and dragged her from the cabin.
Outside in the chilly air, she angrily pushed Dylan away and wrapped her arms around herself. “Dylan! What are you doing?”
He paced in front of her. “You needed stopped before saying something you regret.”
“I don’t think I will. I said no, and I meant it.”
Dylan stopped and took hold of her arms, staring her in the face. “You need to listen to that boy.”
“If you think for one short minute, I’m going to let him see those vile men, you’re wrong.”
“They can’t hurt him sittin’ in that cell.”
“You’re wrong, Dylan. The vile words that slither from that Calvin’s lips—” Skye put a hand to her mouth. “The things he’s already heard them say. They could further damage Jesse. I don’t want him near them.”
Dylan crossed his arms and stared at her.
“You weren’t there, Dylan. Not for that. You can’t understand.” Skye took a long breath and laid her hand on his forearm. “I don’t understand why you think this is a good idea.”
His voice softened, but his stance did not. “You know why.”
Skye did know that there were victims who felt facing their attacker empowered them. She got that. But not her Jesse. Still, she listened as Dylan explained.
“Those men killed his father, darlin’. Almost killed you. Tony beat the snot out of the kid. Jesse felt powerless, and he needs to get back his power. Seeing them behind bars will help do that.”
Skye was silent for a minute but nothing Dylan had said changed her mind. “He’ll see them at the trial.”
“Skye. We don’t know when that will be. You know it’s better to resolve things quickly. Your words, darlin’.”
She narrowed her eyes at Dylan. Why did he always use her own wisdom against her?
He put his hand on hers. “The boy is gonna feel what he’s gonna feel. You and I both know that. The thing is, what are you going to do about it?”
“Not let this happen.”
“You’re thinking like a mom and not a therapist.”
“I am a mom!”
With a gentle finger, Dylan pushed a bit of her hair back off her face. “Yeah, darlin', but right now, he needs his therapist. Am I right?”
Skye heaved a sigh. “Yes, you’re right.”
“What would you have told a client, you know, before?”
“Dylan, he’s a child. These kinds of decisions are not his to make.”
“He left childhood behind long ago, you know that. If this boy says he needs to see them, then he does.”
Skye gazed at the forest tree line. “And you understand this because you would feel the same way?”
“Yeah.”
“He had to know I would hate the idea.”
“Course he did, that's why he was scared to ask you. Did you see his face?”
“No, I was too busy yelling.”
Dylan chuckled. “See, that there’s the trouble with yelling.”
She scoffed at him, “Look who’s talking.”
He gave her a little tug, and she moved into his arms and laid her head on his chest. She breathed in his soothing forest scent as she tried calm her queasy stomach. “I won’t let him go in there without me, and I don’t think I can do this.”
“I’ll be there,” Dylan said as he pulled her tighter. “And one thing I’ve learned about you is you can do just about anything once you get your mind wrapped around it.”
“That may be, but I will repeat that I don’t agree with this. It is a bad idea, and it’s me who will have to pick up the pieces.”
“Darlin’, stop.”
Skye pulled away. “No, Dylan. I don’t agree. A bit of talking and a little snuggle isn’t going to change my mind about what is good for our boy. I’m sorry, but that’s how I feel.”
Dylan let his arms fall to his side, looking lost. She felt a twinge of sadness and reached for his hand, pulling him back to the house.
Jesse watched Dylan and Skye from inside the cabin. He’d known she’d have a problem with it, but it was even worse than he’d feared. She was so protective of him. He appreciated it, had drunk it in at first. Because before her, the last time he remembered being protected was, well, never. But sometimes it was a little much. Skye tended to forget that he was a pretty independent kid.
But this time, he couldn’t budge. These men took something from him. Tony had tossed him like a ragdoll on that steep slope. Skye. Jesse shuddered. Her pale face. Her fall. Thinking she was dead.
Then his dad. Saving them, but only at the cost of his own life. The only good thing his father had ever done. And Calvin had twisted his dad in knots, leading him around like a sad puppy before he'd stood up to them.
Jesse didn't want to be a sad puppy.
Calvin, Tony, and Pete were vile snakes. He knew that. The things they admitted they’d done to women and children still curled his stomach.
Every act they'd admitted to had seemed like one heavy stone after another, crushing him. And it only gotten worse with each passing day. Maybe if he saw them in jail, powerless to hurt him or anyone he loved, maybe he could finally stand tall again, finally lay his head down and rest.
The last thing he wanted was to hurt Skye. He just needed this to end, and he didn’t think it would until he spat in their faces.
5
We Were There
Dylan and Wade slipped silently through the forest, bows in hand, guns strapped to their backs. The slanted morning sun made laser-like streaks of light through the trees, causing the men to squint as they walked through one. On alert, Dylan kept an eye and ear open for any Sick or Infected. Better to be on the lookout then to be sorry later. They often roamed back into cleared-out areas. Spying their trap, Wade moved to release their prey, most likely their dinner for tonight.
On the mountain, if a man could hunt, he did. It provided for his
family and gave something to trade with those who didn't. And to willingly give, if need be, to the widows and orphans who had little means to provide for themselves. There wasn't a lot of them, and they more than did their share of work, helping out around the community, cooking, sewing, and more. And some of the younger ones were being trained in outdoor skills. The corner of Dylan's lip curled. One day, some of those kids might be better than him.
Once Wade stuffed the snared rabbit into his pack, the men headed back home. Knowing the area safe and the need for silence was gone, they crunched through the trees disregarding the twigs snapping under their feet.
"Been kinda tense around the cabin," Wade said. "Nice to be out here for a while."
"Yeah." Dylan took in a deep breath, inhaling the earthy smell around him, a scent that had become his own. "They'll hammer out the details. I’ve got confidence in them.”
"Still," Wade said.
Still, Dylan had to agree. It was nice to be outdoors, to feel the crisp air against his skin, and to roam the forest. He’d felt the tension melt the minute he stepped through the tree line and pooled again as he turned back toward home. And it had to do with everything but Skye and Jesse.
Skye was the sun in his life now, and the boy made him happy. It was as if he’d always wanted them, always known they were coming and just hadn't realized it. To be near Skye gave him the same feeling he had running free in the woods, and that was the best compliment he could give to a person.
“Skye and the boy will be fine. But when they come to an understanding on the details, I reckon I’d like you to come along too, Wade.”
“Ya know I will, bro.”
Dylan nodded. A little more muscle never hurt.
Wade threw him a questioning look. “If it’s not that, what’s got you troubled, brother?”
Dylan shrugged, hoping that would satisfy him, but his brother just raised his eyebrow higher.
