The yard went quiet as the two parties looked at each other across the distance separating them. Finally, Samron stepped forward. "We have no interest in killing any of you, or the children, as Bray said," Samron said. "Our people are not like yours. We do not kill for scalps, or for pleasure."
"Neither do we." The woman looked down at her feeble hands.
"Perhaps not now," Samron said, taking back some of his words.
"We have heard the rumors about your land," the woman said. "We know why you are here."
"The islanders—your people—stole our land."
"The stories of The Arches have changed so many times that we do not know what is a truth." The woman sighed. "The leaders tell us what to believe—Deacon, his uncle, or the man before that. The stories change, but our lives do not. We live, we eat, we kill. We do what the rest of the people in this world do, in order to survive."
Samron seemed confused, or dismayed. As if to convince them, he repeated, "These islands were our ancestors'."
"Perhaps." The woman looked as if she had more to say, but she didn't dispute his claim. An elderly man next to her, with a pointed stick in his hand, asked, "Are you sure Deacon is dead? And his soldiers?"
"Most of them, yes," Bray said with certainty.
An emotion passed through some of the crowd that Bray didn't understand, until he thought about why. These people were as much a victim as he, or Kirby, or William. They seemed as if they were in shock. They were hesitant to believe they were safe. They had been thrown from bridges, killed when they lost their use. They had been treated as badly as anyone, he figured.
Sensing their hesitation, Samron assured them, "We will not harm you or the children. That was never our intention in coming here. We have much to talk about, in the coming days. But if you will agree to put down your weapons, we will not raise ours. Allow us to pass, and to search for the boy for whom we are looking. We will figure out what the future holds."
Demonstrating his sincerity, Samron lowered the sword in his hand. Slowly, some of The Important Ones relaxed as the Halifax men followed suit.
"The boy is not in here," the woman repeated in a gentler tone. "Though you are welcome to check. I only ask that you send a few men. We do not want to scare the children any more than they are."
"I agree," Samron said.
"Kirby and I will go," Bray said, dismounting the horse.
"You might want to check the other building, as well," said the old man with the stick, a grave expression on his face.
"Do you think he is there?" Bray asked.
"For his sake, I hope not," the old man said.
**
Bray and Kirby walked through the halls of The Important Ones, peeking from one room to the next. Some of the feebler elderly lay in beds, or sat up, watching them. In other rooms, children peered out from behind the elder men or women protecting them, as if Bray and Kirby might attack. He and Kirby worked from hallway to hallway, looking in rooms they hadn't seen, none of which harbored William.
Finally, they exited to the back of the buildings.
Samron and some other Halifax men emerged from the left-hand building, a stumbling, wounded man under their arms, looking as if he was at the edge of death. His body was starved so badly he resembled a skeleton. He was half-naked, battered in bruises and wounds. Samron broke from the man to meet Bray and Kirby.
"Some of the worst things we suspected are true," he said, rekindled anger in his eyes. "The devices, Jonas…"
"Are there others?" Kirby asked, shaking her head.
"He is the only one," Samron said. "Another man is in there, dead. I can only guess how many others have suffered at the hands of Deacon and Jonas, and their soldiers. Our only comfort is that this will not happen again."
"William?" Bray asked, suspecting the answer.
"He was not there. We found some relics, but those will not help us now."
Bray looked out into the forest, scanning the trees that he couldn't see past. He saw no buildings, or places in which William would hide. Before he could make a decision, a door opened behind them.
Bray and Kirby turned.
The old woman with white hair emerged, as if she'd remembered something. She pointed to a spot behind the building, with hay, water, and an empty rope.
"A horse was here before," she said, pointing. "We heard some commotion, before everything began and the Savages came. I'm not sure if there is a connection to the boy you seek."
"Perhaps they took him elsewhere," Kirby said, worry entering her voice.
"I wish I could say for sure." The woman threw up her hands.
Bray looked toward the forest. On the ground, he saw what might be the impressions of horse hooves. He was thinking about following them when Kirby interrupted with, "Who's that? Over there?"
Bray spun.
Between the buildings, far down to the wooden bridge and past it, where the rest of the Halifax men waited with he and Kirby's horse, a figure appeared on a horse. A boy about the size and shape of William sat in the saddle, watching them. He looked as if he might turn and ride in the other direction.
"William!" Bray called.
Bray ran.
The Halifax men spoke excitedly as Bray tore past them, between the buildings and past more Halifax men. Reaching the wooden bridge, he called out to the figure on horseback. The figure watched him for a moment, confused, or judging, and then the horse trotted slowly toward Bray.
William's hair was mussed, his face dirty. Pieces of hay clung to a bulky jacket draped over his shoulders that was obviously not his. Kirby limped to catch up. Disbelief crossed William's face as he appraised Bray and Kirby, as if they might be a delusion, or he might be dreaming.
"Where did you come from?" Bray asked, unable to believe what he was seeing, that William was all right.
"I hid in the woods through the fighting," he explained, as if he was making sense of it himself. "When I came out this morning, I thought I saw a horse passing this way, but I wasn't sure. I followed it here. Is the war over? Has it ended?"
"It's over," Bray said. "Or at least, for us it is."
A noise from Bray's left made him look over at Kirby. Silent tears fell from Kirby's eyes. She wiped her face and smiled.
"You're alive."
William pointed behind them, at the group of Halifax men watching intently. "Why are they here with you? Are we prisoners?"
"No," Bray said. "We are free."
"And so is everyone else on the island," Kirby said with a smile. "Come on, William. You must be cold and hungry. Follow us."
**
Bray, Kirby, and William led the other steed up toward the buildings. The sun had risen higher in the sky, taking away some of the night's chill. The Halifax men in front of the buildings watched them approach. Passing by some of the dead demons, Bray noticed William staring.
"What's wrong, William?"
"It's…nothing," William said.
"Are you feeling okay?" Kirby asked. "Perhaps you are still feverish."
"I think I am still recovering," William said evasively.
"We will set the horse up in back of the buildings," Kirby said. "Perhaps the elderly people who live here will allow us to stay for a bit."
"A healer should look at your leg," Bray warned. "You will need to remove the rest of the arrow."
Kirby didn't look as if she needed the help, but she didn't refuse it, either. Samron met them in the middle of the yard, with a half-smile Bray had only seen him wear a few times.
"You have found the boy you were looking for," he said.
"We did," Bray said, feeling a relief he hadn't yet processed.
The war felt as if it had been going for days, or weeks. He was exhausted, drained.
"Perhaps The Holy One blessed our battle, after all," Samron said, looking at William.
William looked as if he had something else to say. Turning to Kirby and Bray, a worried expression overtook him. "I have forgotten something," he sa
id.
"What is it?" Bray asked.
"Follow me."
**
Bray and Kirby rode behind William on the horses as they trekked deeper into the woods on the second island, heading down a snow-speckled path filled with horse, boot, and demon prints that Bray might've noticed, if they hadn't found William by the bridge. Bray studied the trail, alert for demons or other dangers.
"Where are we going?"
"I will show you," said William.
He led them further, until a small, squat building appeared in the distance, sheltered by trees and isolated from everything else. Bray frowned as he noticed the tracks leading up to it.
"This is where they kept me," William said, dismounting his horse and tying it to a tree. A strange, reflective expression crossed his face.
Bray tied their horse, and he and Kirby accompanied William to the building. Reaching into the oversized jacket on his shoulders, William pulled out a key and inserted it in the door. Bray looked around the forest, his sword out and ready. Before Bray or Kirby could question him, William pulled open the door.
The daylight revealed a tired, scared old woman. An empty tray that might've contained food lay on the floor next to her. The room stank of a used chamber pot, and sweaty, unwashed clothes.
"Berta," Kirby whispered, recognizing her.
The woman looked as if she might crawl backward against the wall.
"We are not here to hurt you," William said. "I've come to let you out."
Chapter 86: Bray
Bray, Kirby, and William sat in a room in the building with The Important Ones, a room they were no longer confined to. The room was much nicer than the cold in which they'd all slept for several nights, or the battlefield in which they'd spent too many hours.
The woman with the white hair, who told them that her name was Marygrace, sent some of the healers to tend their wounds. A woman with obvious skill removed the arrow from Kirby's leg, patching her up and stopping the bleeding.
"It seems we have matching wounds," Bray said with a grim smile, pointing to Kirby's leg, and a slice he'd received in roughly the same spot.
"We all wear too many scars," Kirby said. "But I will take a scar over my death."
"As will I," Bray agreed.
William sat silently on the bed, closing his eyes as he took some well-deserved rest.
"Are you all right, William?" Bray asked.
"I'm fine," William said. "I don't remember when, or how much, I slept last. Too many days seem to have run together."
"You will need more time to recuperate," Bray guessed.
"When will Samron come back?" Kirby asked.
"He told me he will spend time with the other Halifax men, finding others on the island, while some of his men guard us here," Bray said. "They have much to figure out. He is going to explain his good intentions, but I am not sure what will happen."
"Nor am I."
"Most of the islanders are in hiding, though a few have come back for their children," Bray said. "I saw Jaydra earlier. Samron allowed her in, escorted by his guards. She said a few islanders have talked about venturing into the forest, though I am not certain. With so many dead, there will be many things to clean up. It will take time to determine what will happen here. Samron will need to decide if, and when, he brings the rest of his people here."
"Everything will settle. And then perhaps things will change again," Kirby said, a cryptic look on her face.
"You look as if you don't have hope for the islands."
"I do not know what to think." Kirby stared at the wall. "I felt the same way at my settlement. Even when we were safe, it felt as though I was waiting for something to take that safety away."
"You want to leave," Bray surmised.
"Perhaps not today, but soon," she admitted. "I cannot live on another land where I have killed so many."
Bray looked at William, who had opened his eyes as he listened. "I feel the same way," William agreed, with a certainty in his voice that reminded Bray of how much he'd been through.
Bray watched them with a decision on his mind.
But it wasn't really a decision.
They'd go together.
"Once we have rested, we will leave," he said, closing his eyes for a long moment. "For now, we should take advantage of a warm place to rest."
Chapter 87: Bray
The air was cold and crisp as Bray rode a horse, with Kirby and William behind on theirs, trotting up the sloping road, across the bridge, and over The Arches. Several guards nodded at them from the sides of the bridge, watching them with a fondness, perhaps even a pride. Halifax men. Bray nodded at the men as they rode past, looking out over the deep, raging water. A few days after the war, a hard winter rain had spilled from behind the clouds, filling the river, washing away much of the blood from the roads and melting most of the snow.
Now, the sun shone.
They trotted in silence over the bridge, past several more guards and through the gap next to the boulders, onto the road that was now mostly melted. Bray looked up and down the road, one direction going past the dam and north, the other south; both to places he'd never seen. His bag on his back was heavier than what he'd come in with—filled with supplies, knives, and ammunition taken off the bodies of dead Halifax men, those who had died before using it in the battle. They'd also found some better saddlebags, which they'd attached to the horses. After taking what they could carry, Kirby had graciously let the Halifax men keep the rest.
She adjusted the rifle slung over her shoulder as she followed Bray's gaze.
"Any ideas on where to go?" Bray asked.
Kirby looked reflective. "When I was in the forest with Jonas, he told a story," she said.
Bray didn't hold back his disgust. "I wouldn't believe a word he said."
"I never did, but I believed this story, because it was told by someone else," she said. "It was a story he heard from one of The Important Ones, a dying old man."
"What was the story?" William asked curiously, from the back of Kirby's horse.
"Who knows, it was probably a fool's hope." Kirby lowered her eyes. "The old man spoke of a place way farther south, where the devices of the people you call the Ancients still functioned. A place of peace."
"The Ancients," William said, with a strange smile at Bray that he didn't understand.
"Jonas thought it was a delirious tale of a dying man," Kirby said. "And who knows, he's probably right."
"It is a nice story," Bray agreed.
"Perhaps I want to believe it, more than I think it is true." Kirby shrugged.
Looking down at the pistol in his holster, Bray said, "If you had asked me a while ago, I never would have thought I'd carry a gun."
"And I never thought I'd be riding a horse," Kirby said with a thin smile.
"In any case, it sounds as good a direction as any." Bray shrugged. "Why don't we head south?"
"It is too bad you lost your father's map," William lamented as he looked at Bray.
Bray smiled as he looked over at William and Kirby. "Perhaps we can make a new one."
William smiled back at Bray as they spurred the horses, riding down the road.
THE RUINS BOOK 3 (FINAL BOOK IN THE TRILOGY) COMING 2017!
Afterword: AKA Tyler's To-Do List
My wife will tell you that I've been keeping a list of things "to do" once this book is completed. Literally.
Writing in the realm of The Last Survivors, I tend to get so immersed that I often find myself writing one more chapter, one more scene, unable to rip myself away from the characters or the story. So much so that I've been neglecting some other things in my life (nothing too important, but things I should probably be doing) like shaving.
I'm not joking.
The last time I shaved was around September 2016 (when I started writing Book 1 of The Ruins). Granted, I have one of those beards that doesn't get too long, and it's not too unruly, but I should probably do something about it. My car needs a
car wash. I have a tooth that needs pulling. The basement needs cleaning. The list goes on.
You might have noticed this book is a good deal longer than Book 1. This is partly because of what I described above, and partly because I wanted to give the characters (new and old) a proper ending to this portion of the story. I hope I've succeeded.
Thankfully, Book 2 is completed, my beard is (moderately) back to being groomed, and my wife is happy. But I can already hear Bray, Kirby, and William calling, telling me it's time to write Book 3.
I hope you enjoyed the tale of The Arches. I have one more book planned in THE RUINS series, which should be out later this year, 2017. In the meantime, I better get cracking on that "to do" list.
If you liked The Ruins 2, please leave a review! This will keep me stocked up on razors.
See you soon!
Tyler Piperbrook
-March 2017
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Other Things To Read
Since Book 3 of THE RUINS isn't out yet…
The CONTAMINATION series might help tide you over. It's a fast-paced, action-oriented zombie series with a twist. You can check out the Boxed Set HERE.
Text copyright © 2017 T.W. Piperbrook
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.
The Ruins Book 2: A Dystopian Society in a Post-Apocalyptic World (The Ruins Series) Page 27
