by Sasha Cain
“What are ruffians?” Maggie inquired.
“A tough group of vagabonds. They have nothing. They’re poor and hungry, just looking for a safe place to sleep and a meal. Usually they have to fight to get either. They hang together in groups to stay safe from the monsters. Well, as safe as they can be,” Bernie answered sadly.
“Why don’t they just move?” Sandra asked.
“To where?” Darrios replied, “Do you think the people of Inland would put up with a band of thieves sleeping in the streets. Would you?”
Sandra blushed, realizing Darrios was right.
“Besides, they don’t know any different,” Evan added. “They wouldn’t be any more comfortable here than we would be having them here.”
“Well at any rate, you guys could probably use another man, yes?”
“Think you’re up to it, Bernie? You sure you remember how it’s done?” Darrios teased.
“It’s been awhile since I got my hands dirty, but I think it’ll come back to me.”
“I still can’t believe there’s a prison here,” Maggie said.
“Technically, it isn’t here,” Sandra pointed out.
“Midland isn’t that far. I guess after spending time in Inland, it’s easy to forget anything ugly exists.”
“Regardless, If we can make this contract a lasting thing, it’ll be a sweet chunk of change,” Evan said.
Darrios held up his glass. “Here’s to a steady income.”
Everyone clinked glasses and drank.
****
Later, after everyone had gone home, Maggie sat on the edge of the bed reflecting on the night. Darrios sat down next to her. He asked her if everything was all right.
Smiling at him, she nodded, cupping his face in the palm of her hand. “Tonight was perfect. We’re very lucky to have such good friends.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Please be careful tomorrow, Darrios. I hate the idea of you going into Midland...”
“Shhh, Maggie. Nothing’s going to happen to me. We’re going to get this deal and then we’ll be set.”
“I remember how dangerous it is. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I’ll be back before nightfall. You won’t even have a chance to miss me.”
“I will miss you.” She dropped her gaze, along with her hands, to rest on her swollen belly. “We both will.”
Darrios kissed her abdomen then lovingly caressed her arm.
“I promise I’ll be careful,” he whispered.
Chapter Three
Darrios and Evan finished hitching the wagon to the two hoodlas, oxen-like animals with the strength of ten horses. They secured the load, placing a cover over it so its contents would be more difficult to discover. Bernie arrived, all smiles and fully armed to the teeth with a variety of weapons.
“Expecting trouble, Bernie?” Evan asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Better safe than sorry. You’re hauling meat through territory screaming with carnivores. We’d better be expecting trouble or it’ll kick our asses.”
“We’re only taking the hoodlas as far as the gate. Otherwise we might as well beg the viocomen and scabras to attack.”
“Good thinking. They tend to whip into a frenzy when the meat’s still alive. Although, pushing this wagon from the Midland gate all the way to the prison is not something I’m looking forward to,” Bernie said as he climbed on board.
****
They reached the gate at the border between Inland and Midland ahead of schedule. Darrios and Bernie began unhooking the wagon while Evan called out to the gate-keeper, their friend Burgess. Moments later he emerged from the tunnel leading to Midland.
“Gentlemen. Well aren’t you three a sight for sore eyes? I haven’t seen the two of you since you both went and fell in love,” he said, nodding to Darrios and Evan. “And you Bernie, taking a break from playing Cupid?”
Bernie shoved the little man playfully. “Somebody’s got to. If it wasn’t for me, God knows Darrios would’ve died alone with his sparkling personality.”
They all chuckled as Darrios flipped them the finger.
“Nice,” Burgess said. “You can take the boy out of New York...”
“We’re taking this load of meat to the prison,” Darrios explained. “Evan cooked up some fantastic money-making deal with the warden over there, but we need to leave the hoodlas here, so we don’t attract a lot of unwanted attention, okay?”
Burgess peered under the wagon cover, sniffing inside. Even on ice, the odor of fresh carcasses and blood wafted over the rails. He wrinkled his nose.
“I’d say with that cargo, you’re going to attract all kinds of attention.”
“Even so...”
“Yeah sure, I’ll keep an eye on your animals, but tell Sandra I expect some cookies,” Burgess said, pointing at Evan.
“You got it,” he agreed.
Burgess led the hoodlas away. Bernie opened the gate. Together, he and Evan pulled on the wagon while Darrios pushed from the rear. Slowly, the wagon began to move toward the tunnel.
Once they got some momentum, the going got easier. They made it through the tunnel and started the trek through Midland toward the prison.
“At least the ground’s flat,” Bernie said.
“And the wagon will be empty on the way back,” Evan added.
Darrios said nothing. He scanned the surrounding area among the sparse vegetation, attuned for any danger.
About fifteen minutes into their journey, Darrios quietly said, “Guys, we’ve got movement to the left.”
All eyes looked in that direction just as the viocomen leapt out of the skimpy bushes. All three men drew their weapons, standing ready. The viocomen’s beady eyes darted between the men. Hesitating, it must’ve decided it was outnumbered because it gnashed its razor-sharp teeth then fled back into the scant brush.
“It’ll be back,” Darrios said.
“Probably not alone,” Evan added.
“Well then, boys, we’d better get moving.” Bernie slapped Darrios on the back.
When they’d gone nearly a third of the way, the viocomen returned. Just as Evan predicted, it wasn’t alone. Curling up its bony hand, the creature advanced toward the wagon, its companion circling wide around the other side.
“Are they serious?” Darrios asked rhetorically. “This isn’t even gonna be hard.”
“I’ve got the one on the right,” Bernie announced, springing into action. With one fluid motion, he jumped into the air, spun around, kicking the beast in the head, knocking it to the ground. Before it could recover, Bernie plunged his dagger deep into its chest. The monster’s death scream echoed over the land, a warning to other would-be attackers.
Darrios faced the other viocomen while Evan flanked it from the side. When it charged, Darrios barely had to move to deliver the fatal blow. With his machete-like knife, he severed the creature’s head clean off. As he wiped the blood off his blade, Bernie sauntered up next to him.
“What a rush, huh fellas?” he said, a little winded.
“Not bad for a rusty old man,” Darrios joked.
“Personally, I could do without the drama,” Evan said. “I get enough of that living with three females.”
Darrios and Bernie chuckled.
“Laugh it up while you can, Darrios. Your time’s coming.”
“All my money’s on a male child,” Darrios said, picking up the yoke of the wagon.
“We’ll see,” Evan muttered, giving the wagon a shove from behind. Bernie stepped in next to Evan and they continued on.
By the time they reached the prison gates, they had successfully battled three more viocomen, a half dozen scabras, a handful of ruffians.
The guard at the gate instructed them to wait while he authorized their entrance. He turned and marched his way inside, leaving the men standing outside the gate.
“Did he just march to the door?” Darrios asked, brushing the dust off his jeans, smirking.
&
nbsp; “So he’s into his job. Don’t judge,” Bernie said with a snicker.
“Whatever.”
The guard came back, opened the gate, and led the men around to a large bay door.
“Wait here,” he said. “Someone will come for you.”
Without another word, he turned and marched back to his post. Darrios resisted the urge to make a snarky comment.
The bay door opened. Two scruffy young men, wearing the Midland Prison uniform, complete with wide, black collars around their necks, scurried out and started struggling with the wagon. A tall, heavy-set man in a suit stood behind them, surrounded by three more guards. His bloated, puffy cheeks and neck-rolls indicated his shirt was at least one size too tight. He didn’t come out, but instead waited for the men to approach him. Darrios disliked him immediately.
Bernie, always the one to give people the benefit of the doubt, extended his hand to the man. “Bernie Belle,” he said, “and these are my friends, Darrios Derosa and Evan Wilson. They run the farm.”
The man stared at Bernie’s hand as if he was unsure if he should shake it. Darrios tensed just as the man grasped Bernie’s hand and shook it, smiling.
“Warden Guarros,” he said. I’m the man in charge of this establishment. I look forward to doing business with you gentlemen.”
Darrios let out a breath. Stepping forward, Evan too, shook the warden’s hand. Fighting the urge to refuse, Darrios followed Evan’s lead, stepping up and shaking the warden’s hand. Staring into the man’s bulging, watery eyes, he suspiciously wondered what his angle was.
The warden signaled to two of the guards to help the boys with the wagon. Then he motioned to Darrios, Evan, and Bernie to follow him. They exchanged glances, falling in behind him. He led them to a plush, comfortable office, obviously his. Taking a seat behind the massive desk, he grunted for them to sit in the chairs facing it.
The warden took off his jacket, revealing large perspiration stains circling his collar, spreading down from his armpits. Bernie averted his eyes, obviously having come to a decision on the man’s character. Darrios bit his lower lip to stop himself from snickering. Evan cleared his throat then began his spiel.
Grateful he didn’t have to deal with this pig of a man, Darrios let his gaze wander the room. Surprisingly, there were no paintings, no certificates, nothing on the walls. No family, no friends, nothing. Darrios found that odd. What was he hiding?
Bernie kicked Darrios, forcing his attention back to the business at hand. All eyes were on him.
“He asked you why you stopped hunting,” Evan said, glaring at Darrios.
“Oh, sorry,” Darrios said with a sheepish smile. “Evan’s the brains of this endeavor. I’m just the muscle. I tend to zone out with the business talk.”
The warden smiled an all-too-slick smile, nodding. “So as I said before, I heard you were one of the best. Why did you stop hunting when you were so good at it?”
“Priorities change. I used to think hunting monsters was all there was for me.” He glanced at Bernie and smiled. “I was wrong.”
“Ah, I see,” the warden said. “A woman.”
The way he said it made Darrios bristle. Bernie caught it, and to prevent Darrios from ruining Evan’s deal, he said, “How about a tour?”
Warden Guarros stood, clapping his hands together. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Bernie took the lead, making small talk with Warden Guarros, giving Evan time to give Darrios the pep talk he clearly seemed to need.
“What are you trying to do?” Evan demanded. “Kill this deal before we even get it off the ground?”
“I don’t like this guy. Are you sure we want to do business with him?”
“Darrios, we’ve been over this. He’s the only game in town. You said it yourself. I’m the brains. Let me do my thing. You just be pleasant and try not to alienate the guy, okay?”
Darrios nodded. “Let’s just get this done so we can get the fuck out of here.”
The warden showed them exactly what he wanted them to see and not one thing more. Darrios listened to the man praise himself endlessly. He watched the inmates behave as though they worshipped the man, but it seemed rehearsed, not like real devotion.
“I’ve arranged a little surprise,” the warden said, clearly pleased with himself. I’m providing you with a feast before you venture back out into the wilderness.”
He pushed open a door, revealing an extravagant table setting for four. Darrios blew out a breath, knowing they were about to sit through a meal hearing more tales of how wonderful Guarros was, from the man himself.
Darrios jerked his arm away as Evan pinched him, a reminder for him to behave.
“Don’t fuck this up,” Evan whispered through gritted teeth.
Darrios glared at him. Guarros told everyone to sit as he pulled out his chair. He snapped his fingers. A young man hurried out with a bottle of Mulsket, Celio’s equivalent to moonshine, and the only alcohol available in these parts. He opened it, pouring a glass for everyone at the table, never raising his eyes to the guests.
Throughout the first course, Guarros droned on about all of the advances he’d made in the prison since his predecessor, to the point where Darrios wanted to puncture his own eardrums if it would silence the man. By the looks on Evan and Bernie’s faces, they thought the same thing.
Just as Darrios thought he might doze off, a beautiful young woman brought out the second course, a meat dish of some kind. She met his gaze almost defiantly. Darrios guessed her to be in her early-to mid-twenties, but her eyes were far older. He’d never seen eyes that color, a vivid aquamarine. In those eyes, Darrios saw honesty, courage, truth, and fierce determination. This frail young woman had the eyes of a warrior.
Her hair hung down her back in a long, thick, copper-colored braid. She wore the same prison clothes as the young men they’d met earlier, but encircled around her neck was a thin white collar, instead of the thicker black ones the men had on. She never smiled, but performed her tasks quietly and efficiently.
Guarros nodded toward the girl. As if she weren’t in the room, he said, “That’s Isela. I took her and her mother in after her father was killed in the Outer Rim. That would’ve been about thirteen years ago. You may have known him. His name was Kie. He was a hunter, too.”
Darrios shook his head. “Before my time.”
Evan agreed. Darrios couldn’t help but notice Bernie narrow his eyes and then drop his gaze to his food.
“What about you, Mr. Belle?” Guarros asked. “Did you know him?”
“Ah, no, I don’t believe so,” Bernie said, without looking up from his plate.
“Anyway,” Guarros went on, “Isela’s mother, poor thing, succumbed to madness, ran right out into Midland one day, unprotected, nearly three years after I gave her a home. I guess the grief of losing her husband proved too much for her. The viocomen got a hold of her. Tore her to pieces before anyone could get to her.”
Darrios watched Isela’s knuckles whiten around the handle of the water pitcher in her hand. Her back was to them, but he’d have bet if he could’ve seen into her eyes, they’d have been ablaze. Luckily Guarros didn’t notice. Darrios thought that probably served in Isela’s best interest.
“Why the collar?” Darrios asked. “Aren’t those reserved for the inmates?”
“Some of the servants wear them too. Different colors indicate different things, different levels of security.”
“And hers?”
Guarros chuckled as Isela hurried from the room. “Our Isela is a bit of a...challenge. She never really appreciated the things I’ve tried to do for her. She’s somewhat rebellious, needs to be reined in a bit until she can learn some humility and respect. She might be a wild one now, but she’s young. I’ll tame her, make no mistake.”
Darrios found himself wanting to throttle the man. How could he have spoken of the poor girl’s mother’s death so callously in front of her? Guarros was a bully who wanted nothing more than to break this gir
l’s spirit, to train her like an animal. Darrios found himself wishing he could speak to her, offer her some words of comfort.
Isela returned with a full pitcher. She began refilling water glasses without making eye contact. A crash from the other room caused her to jump. She, along with everyone else, looked to where it came from. Throwing his napkin onto the table, Guarros stood up, obviously annoyed. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I’ll be right back. I need to check on that. Incompetent fools,” he muttered as he stomped into the next room.
The second Guarros left, Darrios watched Isela’s eyes dart from him to the door and then back to him again. She kneeled down, breathlessly whispering to him, “He’s not what he seems to be. Please don’t be fooled...any of you.”
Then she ran from the room, leaving the three men sitting there, puzzled.
“What the hell was that?” Evan asked.
Darrios simply stared after the girl.
“Maybe we should bail on this,” Evan said quietly.
“No,” Darrios replied quickly. “Something’s going on here. We need to find out what it is.”
“We don’t need to get involved in the shit happening in Midland, Darrios,” Evan argued.
“The only game in town, remember?” Darrios reminded him.
“Darrios is right,” Bernie said somberly. “Something isn’t right here.”
“Is that why you lied about knowing the girl’s father?” Darrios asked.
Bernie nodded. “There’s no way in Hell Kie was killed by a molterg. I knew the man. He was the best...well, until you, Darrios. He was a lot like you, as a matter of fact...until he was murdered. The molterg story is merely a cover up.”
“How can you be sure?” Evan asked.
“I’m as sure as the day is long. Have you ever seen a molterg kill without bloodshed? Or kill something they didn’t eat?”
Both Darrios and Evan shook their heads.
“Me either. Kie’s bones were broken, nearly all of them, but no blood. Moltergs won’t eat something already dead. Someone who doesn’t know that beat Kie to death and dumped him in the Outer Rim. Trouble is, I can’t prove it.”
“And I’ll just bet our roly-poly friend here knows something about that,” Darrios said. “I mean if that girl is any indication what Mama looked like, I can see why fat boy in there would want Daddy gone.”
