by Christa Lynn
“Yep, that’s some good shit.” Walt laughs.
Abe walks in and sits on the floor next to me taking the jar from me and kicking back his own swig. “Watch it,” I say, but it’s too late. Abe is coughing, hacking, and laughing at the same time.
“Fuck, old man, what in the hell is this shit?” he cries out as he wipes the back of his mouth with his arm.
“The good shit, that’s what it is. And homegrown entertainment, apparently,” he says with an amused look in his crinkled eyes. They’re a pale blue, almost grey, and oh, what I can imagine those eyes have seen over the years out here on his own.
“Where’s your family, Walt?” I ask, tossing back another swallow.
“Didn’t make it,” he says, looking down at his worn out boots. “Wife died in the explosions, son went after some Heretics a few years ago, and they killed him, point-blank range.”
“Sorry, man,” I say, handing him the jar.
“No worries,” he says, though I see the sadness in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you guys could use another warrior? I may be old, but my eyesight is still pretty good and I can shoot whatever weapon you got.”
“Yeah, old man. You can come with us. We have a fully-operational compound about fifty miles from here, headed back at first light tomorrow. Can your legs handle walking? The injured man will have to ride horseback. Lance will just have to hobble along, or we can try and put both men on Lady.”
“Yeah, I’ll be ready. I’ll head back to my place and sleep and be back here before dawn,” he says as he gets up and brushes the dust off of his pants. “Night all,” he says as he leaves, taking the moonshine with him. I check on the injured guy once again and head upstairs to see if there are any beds or furniture left, finding Jo’s room, and thankfully, her bed. I look around the room to see if I can find anything to take back to her, and I see something shining under an old piece of faded paper on the dilapidated dresser. I press my finger against it and slide out a dainty silver bracelet, dark from tarnish, with a small silver key on it. I look around the clutter to find what the key goes to, but there’s nothing here that has a lock on it. I’ll take it to her; she probably knows where it goes. I tuck the bracelet in my pocket and crawl onto her dusty bed, pulling the pink blanket over me and close my eyes. Tomorrow, we head home.
Jo
Emma has been teaching me how to pickle vegetables, dry meat, and other Susie Homemaker things, and I’m wiped out, kicked back on the sofa in the living room. She’s taking a nap, and I’m just enjoying some quiet time. I wonder how the guys are doing on their trek, and I’m anxious for them to get back so Kane and I can go to Arrow’s Crossing. I just hope that the old house is still standing, maybe find my Mama and Hank. I have a gut feeling Mama didn’t make it, but I’m sure Hank survived. I can’t imagine where he’d be right now, but I’ll do what I can to find him.
I look out the window, and the sun is high in the sky so I grab my gun and tuck my knife into my back pocket and go for a walk. Remembering the last time, I head out the back door and down toward the river. The rushing of the water is peaceful, and I suck in a deep breath of fresh air. I watch the water rushing downstream and find myself staring at the beaten path that runs along the riverbank. I throw the bag over my shoulder and start walking upstream to see where it goes. Kane has been gone for a couple of days now, and that has me worried. I know he and the others headed out this way, maybe I’ll find them.
As I walk upstream, a creepy feeling overwhelms me. I stop and look around, but everything seems to be okay. I look back and I’m not that far from the house and I can see the smaller houses that dot the property. So, I march along the path when something in the water catches my eye. It’s aways upstream, but the current is bringing whatever it is quickly downstream.
As my eyes focus, I figure out what it is. “Fuck me,” I whisper to myself.
Body parts
I squint my eyes in the bright sun and see there’s more than one—an arm and a foot? “Holy shit, where are they coming from?” I ask myself as I scan the river bed. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary, but I take my gun out of my waistband and remove the safety. I start walking upstream toward the top of the hill. Birds fly from the tops of the trees and something scurries away, a squirrel maybe. My nerves are on high alert. I have no idea what’s out here, and I’m thinking now that leaving the house might not have been such a good idea. Curiosity has got me by the throat and I have to find out where those body parts came from.
The ground crunches under my feet, dried leaves and twigs falling from the trees as autumn is just around the corner. I try to step as quietly as possible, but it’s not happening. Something off to my right flies up into the air, and as I focus on it, I can see it’s a vulture. Wait, there’s five or six of them circling in the sky, which means there’s something either dying or already dead. The large black birds are low in the sky, skimming the tree tops, so I walk in their direction.
After making my way through heavy brush, an overwhelming smell fills my nose “Good God, what is that?” I say, pinching my nose and covering my face with my t-shirt. The stench is something between a rotten egg and horse shit, and growing up on a farm, I’ve smelled plenty of both. I push the heavy branch out of my way and come across a body, a female body, very obviously dead.
“Oh, my God.” I cover my mouth, but my stomach wretches, and I heave, violently emptying my stomach. I get myself together and plug my nose as I walk a little closer. The face is mangled, but I can tell it’s a woman, which doesn’t surprise me. Her foot and arm are missing, so I assume the ones I saw in the river were hers. I look around the area and there’s no one around, and no houses nearby. The vultures have picked away at her flesh, but she’s bloody so she hasn’t been here long. “I wish I had left the house a little earlier, maybe I could have saved her,” I whisper to myself.
“Or you could have been her,” a deep male voice says behind me. I jump and raise my gun at the man who now stands there. He’s not very old, but he’s dirty and—
“You must be Kane’s bitch,” he growls.
“You know Kane?” I ask stupidly. Of course he knows Kane, he’s on his property.
“I know Kane, but not well. He and Dale picked me up a few months ago on their way back from OKC, thought I was good for their little army,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“Who are you?” I ask, stepping back and still holding my gun.
“Name’s Luke, and you can lower your gun.”
“I don’t think so, Luke. Who is this woman?” I ask, lifting my chin toward the dead woman lying on the ground.
“Some bitch who got in my way,” he says, taking a step forward. “But right now, you’re in my way.” He growls as he lunges for my gun, grasping my wrist and twisting it backward so my arm is behind my back, my shoulder screaming in pain.
“No,” I scream, kicking my boot back and making contact with his dick, my mind flashing back to the day in the drug store. I survived that attack, I’ll survive this one.
“Look at that woman, do you want to end up like her?” he yells. “Because I can make it happen, bitch.” He releases me and throws me to the ground. I back up until my back hits the dead woman, her other arm falling on top of me. Luke’s eyes have glassed over and he’s puffing his chest. I know then that he’s crazy. He will kill me and that’ll be the end. Kane will find my body parts floating down the river.
“You know if you do this, you’re as good as dead too, right?”
“Oh, you think I’m afraid of Kane? Think again, bitch,” he says as he puts his boot into my stomach, pushing me back against the dead woman. “I’d fuck you senseless first, but I think you might enjoy that too much.”
I try to keep my face expressionless, as I don’t want him seeing my fear. His boot is wedged under my chin, pushing my throat back, and I burst out coughing, a smirk cresting his lips. He thrusts his foot against my neck, the heal bruising my chest. I sweep out my foot and take him down, his body landin
g in a thud on his side, and my gun skittering from his hand. But he’s quicker than me, and he grabs it before I can get to it. I make it to my feet and stand back, my hand behind my back, wavering at my pocket. I can’t remove it too quick or he’ll yank that from me too.
He holds my gun at me, his hands shaking. “Go ‘head, motherfucker. Shoot me,” I dare him.
“You think I won’t?”
“Oh, I think you will. But what can I do?” I ask as calmly as I can. If he’s the one that killed this woman, then I know he won’t hesitate to kill me. He walks up to me and presses the barrel of the gun right to my temple, cocking it, the click so loud I jump. I know what’s coming, and as long as he does it right I won’t feel a thing. My dead body will lie beside this other woman, and I’ll be a meal for those vultures that are still circling above. He squeezes my breast hard, bringing tears to my eyes. “No, I’ll wait and fuck you after you’re dead. I’m not in the mood for a struggle,” he says, pushing me backward again, my feet tripping over the body behind me. I fall to my back and scoot backward, unable to get up fast enough. He reaches down and grabs my ponytail, yanking me to my feet and pulls me right up into his face.
“You bitch; you think you can get away from me?” he says as he raises his gun. “Open your dirty mouth!” I shake my head, pressing my lips together, but he uses his other hand to squeeze my cheeks so hard that I have no choice but to part my lips, Luke immediately pushes the barrel of the gun into my mouth, his index finger on the trigger. I reach behind my back and pull out my knife, and as his finger moves, I push the blade into his side, the sharp tip entering his body like melted butter, quickly pulling it back out so I can slice him again.
He screams and steps back, holding his hand over the wound, blood pouring out of the gash. “Fuck, you bitch!” he screams as he raises the gun with his other hand and I shove the knife into his stomach, just as shots ring out and I’m thrust backward into the tree line, a cracking sound emanating through the air as I close my eyes.
“Jo. Jo, are you all right?” I hear a woman’s voice pulling me out of the fog.
“Emma?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Are you all right?” she asks again, trying to help me sit up.
“I think so, what happened?”
“He was about to shoot you, so I took him out.” She smirks.
“That gunshot came from you?” She nods. “Good aim, girl,” I say as she helps me to my feet. My head spins, and I feel sick, but I push it down and focus on the beautiful blonde in front of me. She’s smiling with pride, and I pull her into my arms and hug her. “You saved my life.”
“No, just iced your cake. Those stab wounds would have been his demise with treatment. I just sped up the process for him.” She laughs.
“He was about to shoot me,” I say, staring over her shoulder at the man that now lies on top of the woman he killed earlier, his blood pooling around his ears. “You shot him in the head?”
“Yeah, and he never saw me coming,” Emma says, though she’s starting to shake now that the adrenaline is wearing off. She drops the gun she’s holding and I pull her into my arms to comfort her.
“Thank you,” I whisper into her ear, her blonde hair swaying in the breeze. I look up at the sky, and it’s turning dark, a large black cloud overhead.
“Come on, let’s go back to the house, we’re about to get a storm. I was stupid for coming out here by myself anyway,” I say as I nudge her along. We walk back to the house arm-in-arm for comfort, probably more for her than me. That’s not the first time I’ve had to defend myself, but I’m sure it was Emma’s. “You did the right thing, you know?”
“I-I-I killed a man,” she snubs.
“Look at me,” I say, taking her face in my hands. “Yes, you killed a man. You killed a man that was about to kill me. You did nothing wrong. You were strong and overcame your fear, and I’m so proud of you.”
She nods, but I know it’s going to take more than words to calm her down. Her body is shaking and she can barely walk.
“What are you two doing out here?” Dale asks as he steps from the woods.
“You were out here all along and—” I scream.
“Whoa, Jo, what are you talking about?”
“Go back about two hundred yards, you’ll see what I’m talking about.”
He runs back the way we just came from and slowly walks back. “You killed Luke?”
“Emma did, yes. Did you see the dead body he was lying on top of? He killed her, and he almost killed me.”
He scrubs his hands over his beard and drops his head. “Kane is going to be pissed,” he says.
“Why, because one of his men tried to kill us, or because you weren’t there to protect us?”
“Both.” He groans. “Come on,” he says as a bright flash of lights up the yard. “Mother Nature is about to go ape-shit on us and we need to get back inside. Kane’s gonna be pissed that you left the compound.
“I’ll handle Kane, lead the way.”
We follow him back down the river bed, his gun holstered to his side, Emma and I following like lost puppies. “Why were you out here anyway?” Dale asks.
“I just wanted some fresh air, so I took a stroll along the river,” I say nonchalantly.
“Just wanted some fresh air? Are you joking?”
“Nope, I was tired of being cooped up in the house.”
“You can’t just wander away, Jo, Kane’s going to kick my ass.”
“Like I said, I’ll handle Kane.”
“What did Luke try to do anyway?”
“Well, I was walking along and body parts started flowing downstream. Did you notice that the body back there was missing an arm and a foot? No, I didn’t think so. Anyway, I saw a bunch of vultures flying overhead so I followed them and found the dead woman. Shortly after, I was ambushed by Luke.”
“Son-of-a-bitch,” he groans.
“Yes, he was. But I shanked him twice before Emma found us and shot him in the head. Good aim, by the way, Emma.” I smirk at her.
“Not hard with the barrel of your gun pressed against his head,” she mumbles while she cuts her eyes at me. A large clap of thunder rolls overhead and big, fat raindrops start falling and the three of us end up in a sprint, running down the trail beside the river. The house finally comes in to view and we all race up to the door, laughing even though Dale beat us.
“You two run like girls.” He laughs. Emma and I look at each other shaking our heads. The rain is beating hard against the tin roof and the wind is so strong that it feels like the house is going to collapse. I stare up at the ceiling, the old fan there wobbling as the house shakes.
“Quick! Into the cellar,” Dale yells from down the hall.
“Cellar? This place has a cellar?” I ask as we run down the hall, following Dale’s voice. Emma and I scurry down the wooden staircase into a dark, unlit basement. Dale lights a lantern after he closes the door and we sit on the cold floor and wait out the storm. The thunder is loud and the winds are howling through the gables, and then a steady rumble. Emma scoots up next to me and we sit in a back corner away from the small window that peeks out under the deck. “It’s okay, Emma, we’re underground. We’re safe here,” I say as I watch Dale look out the window. His face is expressionless, but I can see concern on his face.
“Do you see anything?” I ask, Emma lifting her head off my shoulder.
“Nah, rain is blowing sideways. Wind is real strong. I just hope there isn’t a tornado coming. That’s one thing I miss about the old days; weather warnings,” he says without looking our way. Suddenly, the small window shatters and Dale ducks behind the wall, shards of glass littering the ground. “Get down!”
I tuck Emma’s head back in my lap and bend over her, throwing my arms over my head while the house shakes and vibrates, the sound of a cyclone raging. We hear glass breaking from upstairs and things shifting, chairs sliding along the hardwood floors. “Fuck,” Dale yells as he looks up at the ceiling. The old light fixtu
re rocking and swaying with the house. Then, as quickly as it started, it stops. Dead silence. We get up off the floor and step on broken glass as we head upstairs. Dale opens the door and we step out of the doorway and follow him down the hallway back to the kitchen. “Stay here,” he says as he walks outside. We watch him from the window as he checks the house out. He looks up toward the roof top and shakes his head before he comes back in.
“Everything okay?” Emma asks.
“Yeah, just a portion of the tin on the roof peeled back. It’s an easy fix, I’ll get some tools and hammer it back into place. You guys stay in the house, all right?”
“No worries, we’ll clean up this glass and straighten everything up,” I tell him. Hammering sounds follow soon after. It doesn’t take him long and he’s back inside before the next round of storms hit. Emma and I fix some dinner, and just as it’s done, he walks in, shirt off, sweating and hungry.
“Smells good,” he says as he serves himself a plate and sits down, cleaning his plate in just a few bites.
“What are you going to do about Luke?”
“Let the vultures eat him, he doesn’t deserve a proper burial.”
“No, but the woman he killed does,” I say.
He looks up at me. “Yes, she does.”
“Do you know who she was?”
He shakes his head. “No. But I don’t think this was the first time he’s killed a woman.”
“You mean you knew about him and didn’t warn us?” Emma screeches.
“Why would I put that kind of fear in you when I wasn’t sure? Kane thought it was Lance, that’s why he took him with them. He didn’t want him here without him, just in case.”
“Guess Luke had him fooled,” I say.
“Guess so. Look, it’s late. I’m going to go check out the rest of the property. I’ll have one of my guys stay close to the house, but you stay inside. Got it?”
I nod, knowing I have no desire to go back outside right now. I learned my lesson, plus, I wouldn’t leave Emma alone. “By the way, Emma, how did you find me?”
