by Ben Brown
Izzy bent and pulled two boxes of cartridges from Callum’s pack.
“Wait, give ‘em this as well.” Callum awkwardly pulled the six-shooter holstered on his left side. “No point me having it, not seeing I only have one good shooting hand.”
“No, you keep that,” La Roux said as he pulled his pump-action from his back. “Izzy can be reloading one gun while you use the other. Give ‘em this instead.”
“What does that leave me?” she asked as she took the gun from La Roux.
“I still have my rifle,” La Roux said as he eyed the pump-action longingly. “You can have that. I’ll make do with my sidearms. Now, let’s get all this sorted so we can move out.”
Izzy ran back to her kin with the guns and ammo. Callum waited until she was out of ear shot before he spoke again.
“You know the Hunters will be the least of our worries.”
“I know,” La Roux said thoughtfully.
“We’re going to have a whole mess of angry and well-armed men bearing down on us mere minutes after we deal with the undead. Lingerers are predictable, people ain’t. I don’t think we’ll be able to stop thirty or forty ornery mountain men.”
“Nor do I,” La Roux said with a sigh. “But we can give ‘em a hell of a fight.”
“As we head down the mountain, I think we should get Izzy to describe her pa to us in detail. I know Tilly described him to us, but it can’t hurt for Izzy to refresh our recollection,” Callum said as he tried to holster his pistol. However, without his left hand, he found it difficult pulling his heavy leather coat out of the way of his belt. “If we kill him, then maybe the others will just turn tail and run.”
“Good idea,” La Roux said as he stepped closer to Callum and helped his friend to holster his weapon. “Callum, I just want you to know it’s been an honor serving with ya.”
Callum stared up at the Cajun’s large face and he saw a man who thought he was going to die. “The honor has been mine, but let’s not talk like we’re already dead. We’ve got out of tight spots before, this may be just another one.”
La Roux nodded and then looked toward the women. “I hate the thought of those ladies returning to that camp, so I’m going to do all I can to stop that happening.”
“Good to hear. Now sling that pack on my back, and tell Izzy it’s time to go.”
La Roux lifted the heavy pack from the ground, and then helped as Callum threaded his arms through its straps. The Cajun then shouldered his own, and headed toward Izzy and her kin. Callum watched as his friend whispered in Izzy’s ear, and he suddenly felt at peace. If today would be the day he died, then at least he would have good people at his side.
Chapter 15
Jacob drank deeply from the whiskey bottle, and then passed it to the man beside him. One by one, each of the thirty men gathered there took a mouthful of the liquor, and then pressed their foreheads to Jacob’s outstretched hand. As soon as the last of the men had paid homage to him, Jacob turned and climbed the ladder to the roof of the Hunters pens.
As if sensing they were about to taste blood, the Hunters began to howl and bay. Several threw themselves at their gates, but the sturdy construction of the pens made their escape impossible. The only way the Hunters would taste both blood and freedom, was at Jacob’s bidding. Once Jacob had ascended the ladder, he turned and looked out at the mountainous terrain surrounding the pens.
The Appalachian Mountains were a hard place to live, but they offered him something more precious than ease of living. They offered him the isolation he needed to carry out God’s work. It was true, that from time to time outsiders caused him minor problems, but the isolated nature of the mountains meant he could always take care of things without fear of retribution from the rest of society.
Society. What did that word really mean? To Jacob it meant heathenness excess and interference from the godless. It meant not being able to accept God’s judgment of man. God had made it abundantly clear that the End of Days was nigh, but society did not want to accept God’s will. Instead, they took the tools—which God had placed on Earth to bring about the End of Days—and shipped them off to a country no better than hell itself.
The Lingerers were the hand of God, and society had slapped that hand away. Only he, Jacob Maxwell, seemed to know the truth of God’s bidding, and he embraced the undead for what they were. God had turned every newly dead corpse on Earth into angels of death, and as angels, Jacob saw their exquisite beauty. He did not see their rotting flesh or protruding bones, he only saw the miracle of God’s infinite wisdom.
As a sense of serenity washed over him, Jacob beckoned for his loyal brethren to join him on the roof. When the last of the men reached him, the ladder was pulled up, thus stopping the Hunters from reaching them. Jacob nodded his approval and then turned his mind to what was to come. First, he would give his sermon, then the hunt would begin.
“Men, whether through blood, or through loyalty of heart, yer all my kin and I love ya as God loves us all.”
A murmuring of appreciation passed through the group, then they hushed again. Even the Hunters below had fallen silent.
“Today, we do God’s work, for he has asked us to administer his justice. Let us not blame just our women for the evils of the past day, for they are but Satan’s toys. No, there are others who must carry the burden of their sin. Others who have defiled and murdered. Others who have evil in their hearts and in their very souls. OTHERS who seek to undermine God’s will. OTHERS who wish nothing more than to have a living hell right here on God’s green Earth!”
The men surrounding Jacob began to nod, and shout their Amens. But Jacob held up his hands and the group quickly settled.
“Now as ya know, I am a loving and caring man, but today we must put love to one side. Today we must be like hammers on stone. I know the men who took our women are being guided by Satan’s hand. I know they do not realize their immortal souls will forever burn in the fiery pits of hell. The time for forgiveness and conversion has passed for ‘em. They are beyond redemption. First, our Hunters will pass judgment on our God forsaken women, but then WE will pass judgment on those who took ‘em.”
The men began to clap and cheer, and Jacob allowed them a few moments of adulation.
“Once we have our Hunters back under control, then we will become the hunters. We will find the men who started this terrible turn of events, and we will make ‘em pay. We will find every last one of ‘em, and then we will hang ‘em high. We will flay the skin from their bones, and we will feed their flesh to the Hunters as those being punished watch. Once there is nothing left of them but gristle, we will leave them to change into the undead. Once changed they too will serve God. As Lingerers, they will feel the hand of God working through ‘em. Only then will there be any hope for their immortal souls.
“Now the time for preaching is over. Now is the time for action! Release the Hunters!”
Two large men moved to each front corner of the roof and picked up a rope that lay near the edge. One shouted a command, and both started heaving on the ropes. Slowly, the thick beams barring the Hunter’s gates began to rise. With the movement of the beam, the creatures almost instantly started charging the gates of their pens. Cracking of both bone and wood could clearly be heard above the howls of the caged up monsters.
“Faster you fools!” Jacob cried as he pictured the damage his precious Hunters were sustaining.
Two more men ran to help with the pulling up of the beam, and a few moments later, the monsters were free.
The Hunters burst from their pens and halted in the clearing that surrounded their terrible home. Several of the creatures peered up at the men on the roof, but the rest seemed intent on sniffing the air and pacing to-and-fro. Suddenly, a large Hunter—with the best part of its guts torn open—howled and bolted for the woods. The others started to follow and the pack of hideous creatures tore off at an incredible speed.
“Look at them there things go,” one of the men said as he stepped
closer to the edge.
A shingle beneath his foot broke, and he found himself hurtling toward the dirt below. He bellowed with pain as his leg snapped under the weight of the impact. Several of the group moved to lower the ladder, but Jacob shouted for them to stop.
“He’s in God’s hands now,” Jacob said as he peered down at his wounded brother, Jonah. “You always were the clumsy one of the family. Maybe this is God’s way of teaching ya to be more careful.”
Jonah looked over his shoulder toward the departing Hunters. The two that had peered up at them had stopped in their tracks, and now stared hungrily back at him. His terrified eyes turned back to his older brother, but Jacob merely smiled down at him.
“Please, Jacob, help me.”
Jacob shook his head. “No, any killing that happens today is God’s will.”
Before Jonah could utter so much as a sound, the Hunters were on him. One latched itself to his throat and started thrashing around like a gator killing a pig. The other went straight for Jonah’s midsection, and within seconds, it had his intestines wrapped around its head. Jonah tried to scream, but death took him before a sound left his lips.
The crowd of men above stood enthralled by the spectacle below. Blood lust was just as intoxicating whether the victim was male or female. They watched in a reverent silence as the Hunters tore Jonah limb from limb. Then, as quickly as the attack had started, it ended. The two Hunters rose slowly to their feet, and then looked in the direction the other Hunters had taken. A moment later, they charged off in hunt of the women they had been conditioned to seek.
“Give ‘em a couple of minutes,” Jacob said as he mopped the back of his neck with his handkerchief. “Then we’ll lower the ladder and follow. Let what just happened be a warning to ya all. Never get too close to a Hunter, not unless you can chain it.”
Soon, the men were running off after the Hunters, and in spite of Jacob’s considerable size, he led the chase with all the speed of a much younger and fitter man.
Chapter 16
Izzy led Callum and La Roux into the hollow where they would make their stand. La Roux pulled out his pocket watch and looked at the time. They had a little under an hour until noon, which meant they had very little time to setup their ambush. The Cajun swung his pack from his back and dropped it at his feet. He then pulled out a spool of thin wire and handed it to Izzy.
“I want ya to string this between the trees at around waist height.”
“Why waist height? Why not head height?”
Callum shrugged off his pack and answered for La Roux. “Lingerers move fast and low when they attack. If ya string the wire too high, then they’ll just run straight under it. Stringing it at waist height makes contact more likely. With luck, the wire will cut a few in half before it breaks, we can then take them out after the assault is over.”
Izzy grimaced and said, “You boys have done this before.”
“It sure ain’t our first dance,” La Roux said as he stood and examined the hollow. He then pointed to his left and said, “I’ll help Callum setup his gear over there. You join him when yer done. I’ll setup opposite his location, that way we can catch whoever enters this position in a crossfire. Izzy, if ya start shooting, it’s vital that ya keep your fire away from my position. Is that clear?”
Izzy nodded. “Sure, but ya really didn’t need to point out the obvious.”
“You’d be surprised how many Rangers have died in friendly crossfire,” Callum said as he picked up his pack and moved to the location that would conceal him from the soon to arrive Hunters. “People panic in the heat of battle and it’s easy to make stupid mistakes.”
“That’s right,” La Roux said as he followed Callum. “What seems obvious now soon gets forgot when bullets fly. If ya become disorientated about where I am, then stop shooting and let Callum do it all. Besides, it’s more important to keep his six-shooters full. Only use your gun if ya have to.”
Izzy nodded and then headed off to setup the wire.
“How do ya think she’s going to do?” La Roux asked as he started laying out Callum’s ammunition.
“She’ll do just fine.” Callum then looked his friend in the eye and said, “La Roux, I’m not going to be as fast as normal. If things go south, I want ya to leave me. It’s more important to keep the women alive than it is for me to get out of this.”
La Roux grinned. “Kid, even on your worse day, yer still better than any other Ranger I’ve ever fought with. If ya don’t get out of this, then none of us do. Now make sure all your gear is ready, cos I’m heading off to get dug in.”
Callum watched as his big friend ambled off, but he felt as if La Roux had too much faith in his skills. Callum knew he was good, but was he good enough? Only time would tell.
* * *
La Roux checked his revolvers for a third time and then sat back against the rock behind which he hid. His stomach let out an annoyed rumble, which he tried to quell with his last piece of beef jerky. He had been saving the small piece of dried meat for an emergency, but he figured he would be lucky to live beyond the next few hours, so what the hell. As he chewed on the all but tasteless piece of leathery meat, he began to think of home and of those he had left behind.
He rarely thought of life before the Rangers, and when he did, it always filled him with fleeting feelings of regret. His life was a full and productive one, but at times, he felt like he had sacrificed an awful lot to become a Ranger. Things like having a family, a home, and a woman to love. He knew his regret only reared its ugly head because of the imminent battle, and his possible death. He always put the feelings down to pre-battle nerves, and normally swept them quickly away. But for some reason, this time the regrets felt just that little more real. Its teeth were sharper and the pain the regret caused stung a little more than usual.
His mind turned to Izzy and the regret hit a new height. He knew having a relationship with any woman was out of the question, let alone one he had rescued. The thought of approaching her and telling her how much he admired her made him feel like a rapist. She—along with all the women under his temporary care—were vulnerable and had been treated appallingly by men. If he told her how he felt, she might just accept his advances out of pure fear. The thought of telling her he liked her, would be like taking advantage of someone too weak to defend themselves.
No, Rangers were doomed to a life of solitude, or at least they were while still in the service. He did know of Rangers who had married once they had left the Corps, but their numbers were few and far between. Even after leaving the service, most Rangers remained unhitched. It was as if a solitary life had become so deeply ingrained in their makeup, they simply could not find any way of forming bonds with a woman, or anyone else.
The thought of never meeting or marrying a woman made La Roux feel quite unsettled. Dying on the battle field, or at the hands of Lingerers never scared him. Dying alone did. The thought of never having a son to carry on his name suddenly felt like the most terrible thing in the world, and he struggled to contain his emotions at the thought.
He needed to clear all these maudlin ramblings from his head, otherwise, he would be no good for what lay ahead. La Roux closed his eyes and pictured all those who had died at his side. He pictured the face of every Ranger who had died at the teeth of the undead, and his warrior’s heart returned. When he opened his eyes again, his thoughts had turned to nothing but carnage, and the killing to come.
* * *
Izzy quickly tied one end of the wire to a tree, and then started feeding the rest out as she backed her way to the next one. As she wrapped the wire around the second tree, she thought of her dead sister, Alice, and the horrors she had suffered at her own brother’s hands. She despised how readily her male kin had fallen under her pa’s insane spell, but her brother had been the most brutal of them all. He had accepted every vile word her pa spewed, and he was always the first in line to administer any punishments that pa wanted administered. No matter how hard she tried, s
he could not understand why the men—but especially her brothers, and Jacob Junior in particular—had so easily slipped into the barbarity of life in the Maxwell camp. Were all men so easily swayed?
She knew this could not be true because of La Roux and Callum. They were the antithesis of her male kin. They were kind, caring and would die rather than see harm befall the women they now protected. This left her with only one option. Every male in her family had the propensity for insanity.
The Maxwells had always been close knit, and maybe that had something to do with the men’s evil ways. It was possible that years and years of cousins marrying cousins had effected the males of her blood line. She shook her head with disgust at the thought of the men’s insanity, and then tied off the wire to the second tree. With both her heart and mind saddened by the evils of her family, she moved to the next tree and began her work again.
She hated her family for what they had done to her women kinfolk, but most of all she hated her pa. If not for him, the men would have never gone down the path of rape, murder, and brutality. Her mother’s death had triggered her pa’s madness, but it was he who had turned his madness into something contagious. His insanity was every bit as virulent as the Lingering, and he had done everything in his power to make sure it spread.
At first, his sermons had seemed reasonable, all be it eccentric. But as days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, his sermons had turned darker. Even then she had seen the writing on the wall, but she had done nothing. She should have stopped him when she had the chance. If she had of acted back then, so many of her female kin would still be alive. Not only that, but countless malformed children would have never been born; then subsequently murdered. If only she had killed him back then, how different her life—and the lives of every Maxwell—could have been.
