The Forge of Darkness (Darkness After Series Book 3)

by Scott B. Williams

  * * *

  Mitch knew the gunfire was likely to bring some of the men from the house out to investigate. As much as he would have preferred for them to be unaware he’d killed the four out by the road, he decided the diversion created by the shooting could work in his favor too. He didn’t know how many might be there, but if some left to come out here, that would mean fewer to deal with when he reached the house. But he didn’t want to be intercepted on the way by those that might come looking. Mitch disappeared into the woods to the east of the property, beyond the fence, and worked his way back home in another wide circle, opposite the one he’d used to get out to the road.

  When he neared the open lawn, he was in back of the house near the barn. He crept to the edge of the clearing and watched for movement. The first man he saw was obviously at a heightened state of alert. He appeared from around the corner of the barn, the AK he carried gripped like he was ready for imminent action. His gaze swept the trees at the perimeter of the yard, yet passed over Mitch without noticing him hidden among the foliage. Satisfied that all was clear, the man continued on around the barn to the shed where Mitch’s dad kept his state patrol boat. Then Mitch saw another movement nearby and realized there were two of them between the house and barn. He didn’t know how many more might be inside the house itself, but he figured he could take these two without anyone inside knowing it if he moved fast enough.

  Slipping farther around back inside the wood line until the barn was squarely between him and the boat shed, Mitch made a silent dash across the lawn to the back wall of the structure, pressing an eye against a knothole to confirm that no one else was inside it. Then he turned the far corner and entered, crossing to shadows behind the big double gate that faced the house. He could hear the two men talking to each other, and readied four arrows in case any of his shots missed. Then he waited. They were grumbling about the rain, and complaining that it was taking forever to get the steaks they’d been dreaming about ever since they got here. Mitch listened with burning contempt. He’d show them what forever was! When they split up again to walk around the barn from opposite directions, he got his chance. The first one was wearing a thick jacket with a hood pulled over his head, obscuring his neck and throat, which was always Mitch’s preferred target at such close range. He waited until the man faced him squarely, looking into the barn but unable to pick him out among the dark shadows within, and then he released his string to send the arrow straight into his right eye. It was a shot he wouldn’t have attempted had the man not been standing completely still for that one long moment, and quite close, at some 10 yards away. But the shot was perfect and the man was dead before he hit the ground, the steel broadhead embedded deeply in his brain. Mitch exited the barn and turned the corner to the rear, creeping up behind the other one, who was completely unaware of his partner’s recent demise. This one was close too, and not wearing a hood, so Mitch shot him squarely below the base of the skull, his arrow would severing the man’s spine near its upper terminus and dropping him like a stone.

  Knowing that any others in the house might be expecting a check-in from the two guarding the barn, Mitch quietly moved to the back wall of the house, crouching beneath the window that looked out from over the desk in his father’s office. The blinds were open so he risked a quick look inside, raising his head just enough to peer through the lower corner of the glass. The door to the room was shut, so he couldn’t see into the hall and the living room beyond, but what he did see in the small office came as a complete and utter surprise. Benny!

  Twenty-seven

  DRAKE WASN’T SURE WHAT to make of the fact that Clint had been killed with a rifle, while his other three men had fallen to arrows. Did it mean the archer wasn’t working alone, or was it that he simply carried a firearm too? If it was the same one who had shot at him earlier down by the fence, that could be the case, but that guy had been a lousy shot to miss him so many times. It made him think there must be someone else as well. Drake began to have second thoughts about the viability of his plans for this place. He’d lost ten men in less than twenty-four hours. That was just completely unacceptable! They had never run into this kind or resistance in a raid, especially not at a small, remote homestead like this. One thing was certain, they needed to wrap this up fast and find whoever had done all this killing before the women and children arrived, which would likely be tomorrow or early the next day. But the question was where to look? To take out Gerald and the others like that with arrows, the guy had to be like a ghost in the woods. He had gotten the drop on all of them at close range and his accuracy with his primitive weapon was simply astounding. All three had been one-shot kills, with arrow placement that would virtually guarantee instant results. Drake was nervous as he and Chuck scanned their surroundings and quietly discussed their options. It was not a good feeling, thinking they might soon become the hunted as well, the next target for those silent missiles of death flying out of the forest for their throats.

  “I think we should get back to the house,” Chuck whispered, after scanning the ground for tracks and finding nothing obvious. “He won’t come near there.”

  “Maybe, but what if he does? And what if there are more of them than we think? We’d be trapped inside, making us easy targets for an attack. Whether he’s alone or not, he’s obviously not around here anymore, or he would have already taken a shot at us. He doesn’t know we’re out here and doesn’t know anyone’s found out what he’s done yet. I say we wait a bit; keep a low profile and listen. If we hear anything from the house, we can double back fast with the two horses and maybe catch him in a crossfire between us and Langley’s boys.”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty good thinking, Drake. But damn, I’ve got to admit, it makes me a bit uneasy being out here not knowing, seeing how whoever it was took out four men so quickly. Clint must have been the only one that knew they were under attack before he died. The rest never saw it coming at all!”

  * * *

  Benny was alive! Knowing he hadn’t already been gunned down was a huge relief to Mitch, but the fact that he was lashed to a chair inside his dad’s office was a real dilemma. Now he had to be doubly careful to avoid giving any of the others that might be in the house a warning, because if they realized they were under attack, they might kill Benny immediately. The only reason Mitch could think of for them to be holding him was for hostage purposes. If whoever was inside there came out and found the two he’d already killed by the barn, Benny would be finished. He could hear voices and the footfalls of someone walking around inside on the wooden floors, but he couldn’t tell from the sound if he was facing just two or three more adversaries or another half dozen. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. He had to kill them all and cut Benny loose regardless. The only question was how to do it both quickly and quietly. With the men inside the walls of the house, Mitch couldn’t use his arrows effectively. He had to create a diversion to draw them out, but one that would not make them think they were under attack. Mitch thought about it for a second and then came up with an idea.

  He sprinted back across the space between the house and the barn and dragged the first man he’d killed around to the back of the building beside the one that had fallen there. Anyone coming from the house wouldn’t be able to see them without going all the way around back of the barn, and Mitch was going to give them something else to investigate before they thought of doing that.

  He went inside the barn and climbed aboard his father’s ancient International tractor. Opening the tool tray inboard of the fender he took out a can of starter fluid and sprayed a little into the intake, praying the old diesel would fire right up like it usually did. The men in the house would hear it, which was exactly what he wanted. He hoped they would think that anyone trying to do them harm would never do something like starting up the tractor. He hoped they would think their two buddies did it, maybe out of boredom or curiosity. With any luck at all, they would come out here to find out.

  Mitch grinned as the engine imme
diately came to life and smoothed to a steady rumble. He gave it enough throttle to make sufficient noise that couldn’t be ignored, and then quickly ascended the ladder to the hayloft overhead. From the shadows there, he could shoot down into most of the barn’s interior, so all he had to do was wait. He leaned the AR against the rough planking beside him in case something went wrong and he needed more hi-tech firepower than the longbow. It was only a few seconds after he reached the loft before Mitch heard at least two people coming out of the house talking and slamming the front door behind them. Mitch waited with his first arrow on the string until a man appeared in the barn entrance.

  “What the hell? It’s that old tractor, Langley!” he called back to someone who had accompanied him that was obviously waiting outside. “Tim or Richard must have started it up.”

  “Hurry up and shut it off! Do you see them in there? I guess they thought this would be funny!”

  Perfect! Mitch thought. The running tractor had gotten the best reaction he could have hoped for. Now, he just had to kill them both and hope the two he heard talking were the only ones that had come outside. He waited until the first one reached the tractor and put his foot on the step to climb up, then he released the bowstring, sending the arrow almost straight downward into the opening just behind the clavicle at the base of the man’s neck. The man collapsed with barely a sound and Mitch quickly nocked another arrow.

  “What’s the problem, Jennings?” the one still outside asked. “What’s taking you so long?”

  Mitch heard the question and knew he would only get one chance at that one. As soon he was visible in the doorway, he would see that his friend had fallen. Mitch drew the arrow to three-quarters draw, saving his muscles for the last bit until he had a target, and as soon as the man stepped into the opening, he quickly pulled to his anchor point and loosed the shaft. The arrow pierced him in the center of mass; there being little time for more exact precision. Mitch saw the look of surprise on his face as he clutched at the feathered wooden object that now protruded from his solar plexus. Mitch nocked the other shaft already in his bow hand and finished him off, shooting him a bit higher through the center of the chest, causing him to fall face forward onto the hay-littered ground. Mitch then grabbed the rifle and leapt from the loft, landing on his feet with the momentum carrying him into a deep squat. These men were no longer a threat, but this last one was lying there in plain view of the house. Mitch shut down the tractor so he could hear, then quickly dragged the body inside.

  When he peeked out from the frame of the doorway, he didn’t see anyone visible in the yard or on the porch. He waited another half a minute and listened, hearing nothing. Then he dashed back to the house to the spot under the window of the office, and dared another quick peek. The door to the room was still shut, and Benny was still tied to the chair there as before, slumped forward with his chin on his chest.

  Mitch left his bow by the window and stepped around the corner and up onto the porch with the AR in hand. If there was anyone else inside the house, he would have to shoot, the noise be damned. It was nerve-wracking, entering the house like a SWAT-team member on a hostage rescue, but Mitch had to take the risk. He had to get Benny out of there. When no one challenged him, Mitch quickly checked all the rooms and found them empty, but for the office. His family’s belongings were strewn everywhere—closets ransacked, drawers pulled out of cabinets and dumped upside down on the floor—all had been searched and pilfered from. Mitch was disgusted but at least he had the consolation that most of these low-life outlaws had paid dearly for what they’d done. He entered the office and drew his knife to cut Benny loose.

  Benny was in a lot of pain, with one eye swollen shut and the circulation to his legs cut off for so long by the rope bindings that he couldn’t stand on his own. When he realized what was happening, and recognized Mitch, his first words began with an apology for letting all this happen. Mitch cut him off as soon as he started:

  “Benny, just stop it right now! This is my fault, not yours! I know about Tommy, and I am so sorry…”

  “The girls?” Benny looked at him, as if he dreaded to hear the answer.

  “They are okay. All of them! They’re down the creek with David and Jason.” Mitch didn’t mention Corey. He would tell Benny about that later. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here. I’ll help you outside and we’ll take two of those horses and head down there now. Can you ride?”

  “I think so,” Benny said. “But did you get all those bastards that did this?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know how many there were, but I can account for eight for sure. Lisa said you killed some and so did she and April.”

  “It was a bunch, Mitch. More than I ever would have expected to show up way out here. I just hope you got the one that was in charge. They called him Drake. Tall, hard-looking fellow with a big braided red beard like one of those Vikings characters.”

  Mitch had not noticed all the details of those he’d killed, but he would have remembered one that fit that description, and none did. So his work was not done… But first, he had to get Benny to safety. After all he’d been through, he deserved to live and Mitch couldn’t put him at risk for another minute.

  Twenty-eight

  DRAKE AND CHUCK HAD been waiting nearly a half hour and had not heard a thing, either in the surrounding woods or from the direction of the house. The mysterious archer who had killed four of his men had either gone back to where he came from or was up to something else.

  “What if he’s already taken out Langley and the rest at the house like he did here? He might be there now,” Chuck said, growing more anxious and impatient with every passing minute.

  “He may be good, but nobody’s that good. Getting four men in the house and barn is a lot different than out here in the woods. And even out here, Clint must have managed to get off a few shots before he got hit. But you’re right; we need to go see. I don’t think there’s any point in waiting out here any longer. But I still want to keep to the woods the way we came out here. We’ll leave the horses in the trees when we get close and sneak up there on foot and take a look. I don’t want to walk into an ambush!”

  They doubled back on the route they’d taken to get to the road, passing the travois along the way. Chuck tethered the two horses and they eased up the edge of the yard.

  “I don’t see the rest of the horses,” Chuck said.

  “Maybe they took them around to the barn. Let’s circle around that way and have a look before we step out in the open.”

  When they did as Drake suggested they saw the two bodies lying in the grass behind the wooden structure. Even from a distance, Drake could see the arrow shaft protruding from the back of Richard’s neck.

  “That son of a bitch!” he muttered. “He did this just in the short time we’ve been gone?”

  “I wonder where Jennings and Langley are? You think he might have gotten them too?”

  “Come on. I’ve got to know. If I die trying to find out, then I die, but I’m going to check that house.”

  “I’m right behind you. Let’s go!”

  Drake hurriedly crossed the open lawn from the woods to the barn, and then, keeping his back to the siding, worked his way to the barn door, where he found Langley dead just inside the entrance and Jennings where he’d fallen beside the old tractor. Both died from arrows like all the rest. It was absolutely unbelievable! It was like they were up against a band of renegade Apaches from hell. Overnight, Drake and his gang had gone from being the hunters to the hunted, and now they were only two.

  “We’re finished here, Chuck! You and I are the only ones left and we’ve lost 14 men since we found this cursed place. It’s time to cut our losses and go back in time to head off the women and everybody else before they get any closer.”

  “I’m with you on that, Drake. It’s a good thing we’ve still got the two horses out there in the woods. It looks like whoever did this made off with the rest.”

  “Yeah, it looks that way.
” Drake was looking around the barn, lost in thought for a second. “There’s one thing I want to do before we leave, and it won’t take but a few minutes. I need your help though, Chuck.”

  “Sure, what do you have in mind?”

  Drake told him and together they began emptying the jerry cans of diesel and gasoline on the lumber and hay stacked in the back of the barn. But they saved two five gallon containers of gasoline for last, taking those to the front porch of the house and using them to douse the cypress lumber and siding, working quickly so they could do what they had in mind and be gone. Drake had hoped the old man was still tied up inside, but when he looked in through the window he saw that he was gone, the ropes that had held him in a pile beside the legs of the chair. Whoever had done the killing here had cut him loose, but there was nothing to be done about that now.

  Drake had found a couple of empty soda bottles in the barn and filled them with gasoline before they poured it all out. Now he stuffed the oily rags he found in the back of the old truck into the bottles and handed one to Chuck. They lit their Molotov cocktails out in the open yard, and Chuck tossed his into the barn just as Drake’s shattered on the wooden porch. The result was an instant ignition of the gasoline-soaked structures, and Drake knew that despite the light rain that was still falling, there was so much bone-dry wood under the roofs of both the house and the barn that they would burn to the ground in no time. He hadn’t had much to smile about in the last few hours, but he was grinning now as the two of them ran for the woods and the horses that awaited them.