by R. B. Tetro
The guards posted outside the entrance to Over Watch, swallowed hard and prayed for backup.
Chains was the leader, because he was the smartest, and the oldest, and the only one capable of controlling his two younger brothers. He nodded and all three of them dismounted and lit cigarettes while they waited for the frightened guards to report to whomever they reported to.
“What the hell is taking so long?” Chains yelled up to the soldiers high in the rocks above them. He smiled at Basher and threw him a half full bottle of whiskey.
Basher took a deep pull off the bottle, before turning and firing it as hard as he could at his younger brother Fury; who had his back turned to him. Fury turned and caught it with one hand an instant before it hit him in the back of the head. “Nice try, asshole,” he grunted, taking a deep drag off the bottle and sending it hurtling toward Chains- who caught it without even looking at it- right out of the air. The guards looked nervously at each other. They were seasoned warriors, battle tested in the desperate mountain passages for years, but these guys were different than they were used to dealing with.
The captain of the Over Watch guard, Blake Sheperd, walked out onto the towering main gate walkway, taking a huge pair of binoculars from his corporal of the guard. He frowned as he looked at the savage looking men standing by their massive motorcycles. The oldest, and obviously the leader was the biggest man he’d ever seen, and that was saying something.
Blake stood 6’ 4’’ in his socks and weighed close to three hundred pounds, but size wise, he was a long way away from the three men below. He guessed the shortest was over seven- feet- tall and they all easily weighed over four hundred pounds. “Tell Reverend they’re here,” he said to a runner who was standing by awaiting orders. The runner nodded and ran to deliver the news.
“How do you know they’re the ones?” his corporal asked.
Blake watched the three men for a while. They were throwing fist-sized rocks at each other, as hard as they could, while they waited. He noticed the way they were armed; serious hardware, made for serious killing. “It’s them….” he answered confidently. He handed the corporal the binoculars and racked a round into the sawed-off, Mossberg shotgun that he was carrying.
“Hey… up there on the gate…we’re out of whisky… and patience!” Chains yelled up at them before throwing the empty whisky bottle high in the air. In a split second the three brothers drew their weapons as one, each firing and hitting the doomed bottle, blowing it to smithereens.
“Damn… their rattle-cat fast,” the corporal said under his breath.
Blake frowned and nodded. “Yeah… they’re fast… but this is still our home turf.
Hike your skirt up and act like you got a pair.”
The corporal started to argue, but stopped when he saw Reverend. Reverend took the binoculars, looking though them at the rowdy killers for a few minutes without commenting.
“Well…what do you think?” Blake asked.
Reverend smiled and shook his head. His long, snow white hair and beard twisting in the wind. “I think…” he said, blowing out smoke through his nose, “The good Lord works in mysterious ways.”
Blake laughed and nodded in total agreement.
Reverend took one of his long barreled Colt Python pistols out of its well- worn holster, thumbing back the hammer and spinning the cylinder on his tattooed forearm before holstering it again. “Let’s go,” he said, leading the way through the dark passage down to the floor of the canyon.
Blake followed him, still not sure how Reverend could see on the dark paths wearing his ever-present mirrored sunglasses, but he never faltered and after a five- minute descent, they popped the hatch on the bulkhead leading out of the mountain. If he was impressed or intimidated by the dangerous looking trio, you couldn’t tell. He walked calmly up to the leader. “ Reverend…,” he said, extending his hand.
“Who gives a snog’s ass,” Chains said, slapping his hand away and spitting on the ground at Reverend’s feet before going for his pistol. Reverend pulled so fast, his gun appeared in his hand as if by magic. He held it easily, pointing it right between the big, crazy biker’s eyes.
Chain’s was impressed…he hadn’t even cleared leather on the 44. Magnum, Desert Eagle he was carrying. He nodded. “That was fast preacher man… man of God shouldn’t be that fast with a gun,” he reasoned.
Reverend shrugged his shoulders, thumbing back the hammer on the long barreled Colt Python, one click at a time. “I’m as fast as God needs me to be.”
Basher and Fury reached for their guns. “No…don’t…we promised the Robin, no killing!” Chains shouted, looking hard at his brothers.
“Smarter than you look,” Reverend whispered, letting his words play on the wind.
“Smart enough, Bible man,” Chains growled.
The two men stared at each other for a moment.
“Let’s see it,” Reverend said, still pointing the pistol at Chains face. “Okay, okay… shit… for a preacher you sure as hell don’t have a very cordial attitude,” said Chains.
“You want cordial, show it to me, then we’ll talk,” Reverend negotiated quietly.
Chains smiled again. Raising his eyebrows and opening his mouth before reaching carefully inside his worn leather duster. He pulled out a silver card about twice the size of an ordinary playing card. Flicking it expertly at Reverend, he pulled his own pistol, pointing it at him. Reverend snatched the fluttering card out of the air, smiling at Chain’s bold play. It was his turn to nod his head respectfully.
He holstered his pistol and took out his zippo lighter. Chains put his pistol back in his holster and watched him light the edge of the shining, silver card. It smoldered at first, then started to burn slowly, before catching fire in a flash. All of them watched as the grey smoke from the card turned blood red and formed into a perfect image of a red robin, before vanishing in the swirling wind.
The six men stood looking at each other before Reverend spoke. “Welcome to Over Watch. Don’t make me kill you,” was all that he said before turning and heading back toward the bulkhead.
“Come this way,” Blake said, motioning for the three mammoth bikers to follow him. He hurried after Reverend with the frightened corporal close on his heels.
Chains looked at his brothers and gave a loud war whoop. They whooped back each running at the other, crashing into each other as hard as they could, before pushing their bikes after Reverend and his men. “This is gonna be something!” Basher hollered at Chains, as he fell in line behind him.
“You bet your sweet momma’s butt crack it is!” Chains hollered back.
Fury came last, looking around at their six, before screaming as loud as he could and following his brothers into Over Watch.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The Cavern of the Light council members were nervous to say the least after hearing about the brother’s arrival. They’d been running things for so long that they’d forgotten the one thing that no public servant should ever forget. They’d forgotten that they were accountable.
“Please… we don’t have much time before the broadcast,” one of the council members beckoned the others to come to the council table. The table was shaped like a horse shoe, built out of cherry wood, with gold leaf covering the entire surface. It had cost the council members nothing. They’d pilfered the donations from the hardworking taxes of the citizens of the Cavern of the Light.
Truth be told, the council had done very well for themselves since their inception. There were ten members and each of them, with the exception of only one, were wealthy and well supplied, to say the least. The road to greed and corruption started out slowly, with only two members skimming off the top at first. But then the rest of the powerful group figured it out and insisted they be cut in on the action.
The only council member that would not take a bribe, or sell his vote, was Jack Sterling. The rest of the council couldn’t stand him, or his lofty moral values. In fact, they’d met in secret many
times to discuss killing him.
But killing him would be risky for them on account that he was close friends with Reverend, Tinker and Tom. He was also the only remaining representative from Over Watch, partly because the council had recently paid to have one of the troublesome Over Watch representatives murdered, while the other Over Watch representative had recently passed from natural causes.
Over Watch people were notoriously stubborn and righteous thinking. Over Watch was also where all the founding members of the Cavern of the Light currently resided. They were a tight knit group who called themselves patriots and didn’t bend their opinions or hold their tongues.
“Let’s begin,’” a man with half rim glasses pushed low on his nose, tapped the table.
The council members came to order, each of them looking nervously at Jack who quietly smoked a cigarette while he listened to his fellow members argue about what to do about the surprise visitors sent by none other than the Red Robin himself.
Jack chuckled under his breath. If they knew he was the one who’d sent word to the Red Robin, they would have him killed. But they didn’t know, and it was a lot of fun watching them squirm. The Robin didn’t deal in bullshit. He dealt in truth, no matter how uncomfortable it was for the person he was giving it to. The Robin knew how important to the revolution the Cavern of the Light was, so he sent the three brothers to let the council know that he was behind the thinking of Over Watch and that he was serious.
The council argued back and forth, each of them pushing their own idea on how to deal with the three brothers. They spoke of arresting them, but Reverend had taken them into Over Watch. They finally settled on a plan by the council chairman; it would be easy to pick a fight with the violent brothers and once the fight began the council would, of course, have to take action against them.
The Cavern of the Light guard was bought and paid for by the council. The guards numbered five hundred and they were well- armed and highly trained. No matter how savage the three brothers were, they wouldn’t stand a chance.
Jack didn’t agree. He’d seen the brothers when they were out in front of the Over Watch gate. They were very well armed and obviously quite skilled at killing. “I think we should listen to what they have to say,” he interjected firmly.
Immediately, he was verbally accosted by the rest of the council. He sighed in frustration and stood to leave.
The council president, Timmy Rose, stood with him. “Before you leave, we need to know you’re behind us on this one, Jack?”
The rest of the council held their breath.
Jack looked at them, shaking his head in disgust. “If you guys are going to take on the three brothers… consider this my resignation.” He took off the silver eagle pin they wore to signify their council membership and tossed it on the gold table.
Timmy almost fell over the table reaching for the pin. “Resignation accepted,” he blurted out; as if he was doing Jack a favor.
“Yes…I’m sure it is,” Jack replied, as he turned to leave.
“You won’t tell anyone of the council’s plans? That would be seen as an act of treason,” Timmy snapped.
Jack stopped and turned, facing the corrupt council. “You people haven’t learned anything at all from all that this once great nation has been through. We had a chance to start civilization over… to do it right this time. Instead, you let the same greed and corruption that destroyed our freedom become the same old standard of operation. I speak for Over Watch when I say that we will no longer be governed by you. The cavern is yours… for now, but you have no power in Over Watch. Leave us be, and we will leave you in peace.”
“Shall we take that as a threat Jack?” Timmy challenged.
“You can take it any way you damned well please. The Robin sent those men here for a reason. You’ll be too busy dealing with them, to mess with us,” Jack countered.
“You speak of treason. The council holds power, not only here, but in Over Watch as well. I could have you arrested!” Timmy screamed.
Jack wanted to beat the hell out of the council chairman, but he didn’t. He turned around and walked out. Slamming the heavy gold-etched door behind him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Blake and Reverend led the three rowdy brothers to a seldom used store room we’re they were given new clothes which they promptly set on fire. The dust caked, blood-crusted leathers the three of them wore were what they’d always worn, and they weren’t going to change, just to suit the council.
Blake told the Corporal to keep a close, but respectful distance from them, which he and his men did gladly. After only a short time, Chain’s came out of the storeroom with two empty bottles of whiskey, hollering to get someone’s attention.
“What do you want?” Reverend asked.
Chains strained his smoke grey eyes to see him in the dark corner he was sitting in. “We want more whiskey… and some women,” he demanded.
Reverend paused before answering; making sure Chains was done with his list of demands. “No more whiskey until after we go to council, as for the women… we don’t do that here.”
“We want more whiskey. If we don’t get some, I’m going to tell Fury to start hurting people,” Chains threatened.
Reverend seemed unaffected by the threat. He sat smoking a joint holding the smoke in as he passed it toward Chains. Chains took it from him, looking at him like he was some sort of alien. “Who the hell are you?” He handed him back the joint after taking a hit.
“I am a servant… that is all that I am. That is all… any of us are,” Reverend replied.
Chains looked hard at him. He was a tall, thin man with long, snow white hair and matching beard. His body was covered in tattoos and he looked as if he’d spent his life working outside. His mirrored sunglasses stared a hole in Chains. No fear… no hesitation, only a quiet resolve. Chains couldn’t help it… he liked him, even though he was pretty sure Reverend didn’t approve of him, or his blood-thirsty brothers. He was just about to ask him some more questions when a chime sounded.
“That’s our cue,” Reverend said, standing up and motioning toward the path leading to the Cavern of the Light.
Chains stuck his head in the store room. “Let’s go.”
The other two brothers came out, staying close behind them as they made their way down the narrow corridor. Chains and his brothers had never been to the Cavern of Light and, so far, they couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. In fact, they couldn’t see much of anything, and they didn’t understand how Reverend could while wearing his ever present mirrored sunglasses.
He led them down several stone tunnels, turning in seemingly random directions. Chains tried to keep track of how to get out, but after a half hour of wandering in the tunnels he decided to focus on keeping up with the surprisingly well- conditioned Reverend, who seemed to know his way around pretty good. After about ten more minutes, they could see light illuminating the walls of the tunnel they were in.
Reverend stopped. The brothers stood hunched over, looking down at him.
He looked up at each one of them, making sure he had their undivided attention. “These are the rules…”
“We don’t do rules and we damn sure don’t do preachers,” Fury growled.
In an instant, Reverend had the barrel of one of his pistols jammed hard under Fury’s thick jaw, smiling as he pulled back the trigger. “You’ll do these rules… or you’ll do dead.” he said evenly; as if it didn’t matter to him either way.
Basher growled and reached for his .454 revolver. His fingertips had just brushed the grips, when out of no were- another Colt Python appeared in Reverend’s other work-calloused hand. He smiled at Basher as he pulled back the trigger.
“You forgot about me,” said Chains.
Reverend smirked as he watched Chains fingertips inch toward the .44 magnum in his belt.
“You don’t have enough hands, preacher,” Chains chuckled.
“Yes he does.” They heard three shotgun slide’s
being racked. Blake and two of his men stood in the tunnel where they’d come from. Each of them held shotguns pointed at the brothers.
Chains took a good long look at the situation. “Okay… we’re listening,” he conceded.
Reverend nodded and holstered his pistols almost as fast as he’d pulled them. “I know you guys are savages… with no need of society and all of that. But this place is a tribute to all that have died and a reminder of the America this country used to be. I will ask you to respect that idea as we proceed.” He looked at each one of them in turn. No one interrupted him. It was true the brothers were stone cold savages but they were also Americans who would gladly kill or die killing for their country.
“The first rule is the speaker of the cavern governs who talks and how long, no exceptions. The second rule is the first rule. The third rule… is no bullshit. Any questions…?”
Chains and Basher were looking at Fury. “What?” Fury said; trying to look innocent.
Chains grabbed his leather jacket, pulling him close so they were eye to eye. “Follow the rules.”
“Rules are for fools!” Fury shouted, trying to break Chain’s grip on his jacket. Basher grabbed him as well, head butting Fury, causing his head to bounce off the rock wall behind him. He was stunned.
Chains seized the opportunity to put a thick pair of steel handcuffs on him.
Reverend watched them while he smoked a cigarette; like he was watching a dangerous episode of the three stooges.
“We have to do this sometimes. Fury’s a stubborn bastard,” Basher explained as he helped his little brother keep his feet. Fury looked groggy but he didn’t say anything, which led Reverend to believe he was used to the procedure.
He led them to the end of the tunnel where there was a torch hanging on an iron mount fastened to the tunnel wall. He took the torch off of the wall although it had to be for them as he didn’t seem to need it. “Mind your step…”
