by M. Walsh
They were close to the edge of the battlefield, when Katrina felt her legs kicked out. She sprang back to her feet and found a massive man with dark skin, clad in black, standing before her.
“I am Edmund Rictor,” he growled. “And you, Lady Rien, have caused us a lot of trouble.”
He drew from his cloak a sabre with a long, thin black blade. Her hands and legs trembling, Katrina raised her sword, ready to fight. She felt dizzy and lightheaded, certain she was going to die right then and there.
At least Lily can get away, she thought. At least she’ll ... how did I end up here? I thought I was done with this ...
Rictor swung with his sabre, one-handed, and forced her back against a tree. Seeing the demons was too much to take. She felt her strength leaving her. She tried to fight back, but he swiped the sword from her hand and kicked her to the ground.
“Katrina!” she heard Lily scream out.
“Lily!” she shouted back. “Just go! Ru—”
Something hard and metal cracked the side of her head. Darkness splashed across her eyes like ink had been thrown in her face. She tried to move, but something heavy pressed down on her chest—she guessed it was Rictor’s foot, pinning her down. Distantly, sounding hollow and echoed, she heard voices shouting.
One of them was Lily: “Katrina! Get off of her!”
Another was yelling, “Take her now!”
All the weight was off her chest, and her vision started to break through the ink. Dizzy, lightheaded, and her head throbbing—
Is that sweat, or is my head bleeding..?
—she felt the ground start to shake, followed by even more shouting and bellowing, though she couldn’t tell if it was in triumph, anger, or fear. Somehow, on instinct more than anything else, she managed to turn over and crawl to her sword.
Trying to push herself upright made her head swim even more than it was already. Her vision was dulled by alternating black haze and bright lights. The colors of the world seemed off. People were running in all directions, and she could swear she saw some on horseback.
Finally, the dizziness became too much, and she crumbled to the ground. The last thing she thought as darkness took her was, Lily ... I’m sorry …
13
When Krutch awoke, his legs ached, and the right side of his face throbbed. The iron taste of blood was in his mouth, but luckily his jaw didn’t seem to be broken. He lay on the ground, listening to the forest around him, expecting to hear horses or yelling any moment—followed by someone pulling him to his feet and dragging him off against his will.
Instead, all he heard was: “Hello..?”
He looked over, and standing above him was a young woman in her early twenties. She was small and pretty, with smooth, pale skin, ash-gray hair, and crimson eyes. She was dressed in black and stared down at him with an expression that mixed concern with caution.
He felt a flush of warmth flow through his body, and for a moment, he forgot all his aches and pains. He smiled and replied, “Hello.” He sat upright, cracking his neck with a loud pop, and asked, “Are you all right?”
“Am I all right..?” she repeated.
He looked up and saw the hill he spilled down was pretty steep. “Oh, nothing I can’t handle,” he said, shaking his head.
She circled around him, her expression shifting more toward caution than concern. “Who are you..?”
“Oh, I’m Krutch ...” He hesitated and finished, awkwardly, “Lee ... roy..?”
“You sound confused about that.”
“It occurred to me halfway through saying my name might be a bad idea.”
“And you said it anyway.”
“Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “It was already coming out.”
She stared at him, cock-eyed, like he told her a bad joke. “So ... am I to understand you’re Krutch Leeroy..? The Krutch Leeroy..?”
“Yeah..?”
Her cock-eyed expression remained. She tilted her head, scratched her hair, and shifted her weight. “I thought you’d be taller.”
He shrugged apologetically, and they stood there staring at one another. He tried to guess who she was and where she came from, but didn’t know what to make of her. If she was another pirate or bounty hunter, she would’ve killed him already. Instead, she looked like she was scanning him, as though he was a strange and unusual species of animal she just discovered and wanted to study.
“So,” he said. “What’s your name?”
She hesitated, replying, “Um ... Lily,” as if surprised he was even asking.
He was going to say something, when the howl of demons echoed from the distance. He couldn’t tell if they were any closer or if more were coming. Before he could suggest it, Lily was pulling him up by his arm and saying, “We should go. Right now.”
He allowed himself to be tugged along for several yards before it occurred to him it might not be wise to blindly follow some strange girl he found in the woods. “Where are we going?” he asked.
“Need to find someplace safe,” she said. “There’re some things I need to figure out.”
What does that mean?
Krutch stopped and pulled himself free of her grip. “Look, I—uh—appreciate you’re ... helping me, I guess. But it would probably be, uh, safer for you if we went our separate ways. Because, you know, I’m Krutch Leeroy and all that.”
She stopped and stared at him. “Do you know who I am?”
He shook his head. “Should I..?”
She frowned, looking confused, as if he was speaking a foreign language. She was about to speak, but her gaze shifted off Krutch and to something behind him. Cringing, she groaned, “Oh, give us a break!”
Krutch turned around, expecting to find any number of things lurking there: Lemmy Hobbs and his mutinous men ... Drake Garrison and a legion of soldiers ... Cyfer Mord and bounty hunters ... more demons ... his crazy grandmother ...
Standing atop the hill, he saw a tall, thick figure dressed in ragged black clothes. His skin was as a corpse and riddled with scars, cuts, and burns. He was partially bald, and what hair he had was sickly, stringy gray strands. He wore a featureless black mask, but Krutch could tell from his stance he was very angry.
“Is that..?”
“The Enforcer,” Lily answered in a whisper. “Run.”
Krutch felt his stomach drop once she said the word, and for a moment, he thought he lost all feeling in his legs. The Enforcer started down the hill, taking heaving, thudding steps—moving with the purpose of a man going to battle. The tension that locked his spine only came loose when he heard Lily repeat, “RUN!”
He finally bolted, following her as she ran into the woods. It didn’t take long for the aches, pains, and exhaustion to return. Oh, that’s right, he thought. I spent this morning getting chased by soldiers on horses and just fell down a steep hill.
A stabbing cramp hit his side like a knife, his head throbbed from the fall, and his legs felt like rubber. Hearing the stomping footsteps of the Enforcer already catching up, he deliriously thought, I’m going to die, and almost started laughing.
Lily was ahead of him, and there was a despairing mixture of realizations. The first was she would leave him behind—and why shouldn’t she? He was Krutch Leeroy after all. Why would she stick her neck out for him?
This was followed by wondering whether he even wanted her to. There was a flicker of chivalrous resolve somewhere—underneath his pounding heart, probably. It said he shouldn’t allow the Enforcer to hurt this young woman and—pirate or not, coward or not—he should do whatever he could to hold the thing behind him off.
Next was a montage of nightmarish scenarios imagining how a fight between himself and the Enforcer would turn out. Almost all of them ended with Krutch bent in unnatural angles and strewn about the forest in small pieces. The stories—the fake stories—said he once faced down the Enforcer and held his own or defeated him. He suspected, put into actual practice, such a fight would not be glorious in the slightest.
; But I have a gun!
The thought came triumphantly and with surprising confidence. They say nothing can kill the Enforcer, but has he ever faced down a man with a gun?
He came to a stumbling stop, reaching into his coat for the pistol. He drew it and pointed at the massive figure trudging toward him with murderous intent. Catching his breath, clutching his chest with his free hand, he aimed and said in between gasps, “Let’s see ... you survive ... this..!”
There was a blast of thunder and flash of white. The recoil knocked Krutch backward, and he stumbled into a nearby tree. The Enforcer’s chest, just below his right collarbone, exploded with a spurt of thick, putrid looking blood that was more black than red. Even more of it sprayed out from behind, and the Enforcer stumbled.
There was a brief pause as the echo of the gunshot faded into the distance, leaving only an expectant silence behind. The Enforcer looked at his new wound, then back at Krutch, adjusted himself, and resumed walking toward him.
As far as panic goes, what Krutch felt was only a slight tremor. He cocked the weapon, thinking he just needed to hit something vital. He aimed more carefully—looking for the center of the chest.
He fired, and the Enforcer’s chest burst again. Krutch watched him wobble on his feet, hunching over slightly, and was certain he hit the heart. The Enforcer steadied himself, gripping the blade and ax in his hands even tighter, and pressed on—clearly angry, now.
Krutch hesitated, wondering whether to try one last time—The head! Aim for the head!—or to just run. The lumbering thing was only a few feet away, and he knew he only had time for one or the other. He recalled he should only have one shot left, too. At this range, he could easily hit the Enforcer in the head, but if that didn’t stop him, it was game over.
The Enforcer raised his weapon, and Krutch fired directly into his face.
The Enforcer was thrown backward, as if he’d been struck in the head with a brick. The back of his head popped into disgusting chunks of rotten flesh. He stumbled backwards, out on his feet, and stood in place looking on the verge of passing out.
He fell to his knee, and Krutch felt elated. Had he done it? Had he faced down the Enforcer and won? Might he finally have a story that is actually true?
He took a tentative step forward, and felt his hopes shrivel up as the hole in the Enforcer’s head closed right before his eyes. The wound healed itself, and he heard the Enforcer’s breathing grow stronger. The Enforcer was seething, shaking with fury, and when he rose upright, Krutch realized all he’d done was make him mad.
Oh, crumbs.
* * *
When Katrina awoke, she forgot what year it was and almost thought the past several years were just a bad dream. She was lying on a cot, in what appeared to be a cabin, with a damp washcloth on her forehead. She remembered hearing the demons screech and swarm from the sky, and she almost believed she was back home, fighting the old battles again.
That brought with it a delirious thought: I can still save them. I can make it right this time ...
The moment passed, and her memory returned to her. When it did, she quickly sat up and said, “Lily! Where is she?”
Beside her, an elderly woman held her down and gently said, “Easy there, girl. You took a nasty blow there.”
“Where am I?”
“My farm, just outside of Bevy. Name’s Foley. Miss Foley.”
“How did I get here?”
“That friend of yours brought you here. He said you were caught up in that ugly business between the Sentries and pirates earlier today.” She turned and resumed what she was doing before Katrina woke up—which appeared to be preparing tea.
Katrina rubbed her head and felt a sharp pain on the right side. She was bandaged and could feel a gash throbbing underneath, but ignored it. She recalled being struck by Rictor and passing out. She tried to remember if she saw what happened to Lily, but it all came as a blur.
“Would you like tea, dear?” Miss Foley asked.
“No, thank you,” she replied, thinking she could really use something much stronger.
“Now I hear actual demons were there, too,” Miss Foley said, shaking her head. “I tell you, I’m probably going to have to move soon. Bad enough worrying about pirates and bandits, but now those nasty beasts coming this far north..? It’s unheard of.”
“You said my friend brought me here. Who..?”
“That would be me, Ms. Rien,” said Rasul Kader, entering the small room and looking as sharply dressed as ever. “I had not counted on meeting you again. Certainly not under these circumstances.”
She said nothing, only scowling and resisting the urge to charge off the cot and strangle him.
* * *
The Enforcer stood close to seven feet tall. Krutch Leeroy stood at a humble five foot, nine inches. He looked up at the towering, seething figure standing before him and felt even shorter. The scarred, black-clad brute looked down at him and raised his bloodstained blade.
Krutch supposed it was only a matter of time. As much as he tried to avoid getting drawn into adventures and capers, his cursed reputation had a way of working without him. It was like a living thing that actively did its work without his knowledge. It stood to reason sooner or later he’d get suckered in over his head and his luck would run out.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought, And that day is today, Mr. Leeroy.
It wasn’t his voice. It was a woman’s voice—that oddly soothing, but dripping with venom voice that was the real source of all his troubles. After all these years, her curse finally caught up to him for real.
Hope you’re happy, you bitch.
The knife started to drop. Krutch flinched, but before the sharpened metal buried itself in his face, he saw a black boot slam into the Enforcer’s head. He stumbled backwards, and had no time to react before a dagger was plunged between his eyes. He made no sound and started thrashing about, clutching the knife.
Lily turned and looked at Krutch. “The hell were you doing?”
He stared at her, looked at his gun, and back at her. “Saving you..?”
If she wanted to pursue the discussion, she ignored it. “Let’s go. Hurry!”
Krutch put the pistol back into his coat and followed after her. He took a moment to glance behind and saw the Enforcer pulling the dagger from his face. Getting shot didn’t stop him. Having a knife planted between his eyes did little. How the hell were they going to get away from this thing?
“Do you know where you’re going?” he called out.
“No,” she said. “I’m just hoping we find someplace to hide.”
“Great.”
They continued running until coming across a wall of bushes, branches, and leaves. Krutch looked back—seeing the Enforcer still in pursuit and picking up speed—and didn’t notice Lily stop short. He bumped into her back, and they both went tumbling through the wall that overlooked a hill even steeper and larger than the one he’d fallen down earlier.
Krutch and Lily alternated between tumbling about like rolling stones and sliding down twisted paths before reaching the end, which was a cliff overlooking a small lake.
However dizzy and hurting he was, Krutch was relieved when he was engulfed by the cold water. He floated upside down, watching the world and rushing water spin around him, and felt like all gravity had disappeared.
Something tugged at his leg, and after some disorientation, realized Lily was trying to pull him out of the lake. He turned himself upright and emerged from the water with a deep gasp and almost sank right back down out of exhaustion. Fortunately, Lily was there to assist him to solid ground.
He collapsed, face-down, his body aching, head spinning, limbs throbbing, lungs burning, and heart pounding. Some part of him thought dying right there might not be such a bad thing.
You’d think all these years of running and being chased, I’d have gained some endurance.
There was more tugging on his coat, and somewhere distantly, Lily’s voice echoed, �
�We’re not done yet, Leeroy.”
“This has not been my morning.”
For the next half-hour or so, Krutch shambled on like the undead—led by Lily to put as much distance between them and the Enforcer as possible. The sky above darkened as the afternoon went on, but Krutch paid little mind to anything that was going on by that point. What he wanted more than anything was to collapse on the ground and fall asleep.
The journey finally came to an end when Lily came across a small cave hidden beneath a rolling hill. She propped Krutch up at the entrance—by now, little more than a rag-doll—and checked the inside.
She returned and pulled the barely standing Krutch inside and said, “I think this’ll do, for now.”
He was out on his feet, wavering and stumbling. The ground spun beneath him, and he said, his voice sounding like it was coming from someone else, “We can rest now..?”
“Yeah. If the Enforcer’s still looking, he’ll have trouble finding us now.”
“Neat,” he moaned before collapsing into the dirt and falling unconscious.
* * *
Once Katrina was back on her feet, she was eager to interrogate Kader—violently, if necessary—about what was going on. He explained he found her unconscious in the woods and took her to the nearest place to recover, which happened to be the Foley farm. Beyond that, he would say no more until they left—which was after Miss Foley cooked a large meal she insisted they stay and eat.
She found it remarkable how seeing him triggered an intense craving for a drink. Since dumping the last of her flask, she’d been doing fine, but seeing him again—the man responsible for all her troubles—brought her longing back like a burst dam. She wondered where she’d be if he hadn’t come knocking on her door.
Probably drunk or hung-over somewhere, she thought. Arguably in better physical condition. Definitely in better peace of mind.
