CRYERS

by North, Geoff

  She tried sounding optimistic, but it had no effect on the others.

  Kay started helping her. “At least I got to have one meal with my Pa.”

  Lawson turned to her but couldn’t think of a thing to say as the girl disappeared into the back room with an armload of dirty bowls and spoons.

  Cobe went to him and looked out the window. Lode pointed a finger his way and pulled his thumb back like a pretend gun trigger.

  “Don’t let him get to you,” Lawson said. “That big fucker’s just mad ‘cause he can’t touch us tonight.”

  “You feeling any better?” Cobe studied the old man’s face. Sara had cleaned his wounds and stitched him up where the cuts wouldn’t stop bleeding. She’d even bent his busted nose back into place—or as close into place that was possible.

  “I feel better than I have in years…like a new man.” He’d found a stash of tobacco somewhere in Sara’s home and was rolling a pinch of it into a brown leaf between his crooked fingers. He went to the table and pulled his stool towards the small fireplace a few feet away. “Gather round, boys—it’s time we had one final talk.”

  He lit his cigarette from the burning end of a small piece of kindling as the others pulled their stools closer. Willem was already shaking his head. “I don’t wanna hear it. I don’t wanna listen to you tell us how you’re gonna die all gawdamn proud tomorrow. Our Pa said the same things the night before he was hung. I don’t wanna hear it all again.” His voice cracked on the last word.

  “Ain’t nothin’ proud gonna happen tomorrow,” the lawman replied. He blew smoke onto the dying embers inside the hearth. “I’m weak as shit, and I reckon I’ll go down fast.”

  “So what’s the point?” Cobe asked. “Can’t you think up some other way to survive the Rites? What if we snuck out during the night? We can head out the back—Lode won’t see a thing.”

  “Ain’t nowhere left to go.” Lawson inhaled deeply from his cigarette and coughed. Smoke puffed from his nostrils and spit leaked out over his lip. He wiped it away, and took a final drag before flicking the rest into the coals. “The bridges will be heavily guarded tonight. There’s always a few reluctant fighters lookin’ fer a way out. Besides, my runnin’ days are done. They’d catch up to the rest of you soon enough…Nope, we ain’t runnin’ no more.”

  Trot showed them his bandaged hands. He clenched them into fists. “Let me fight for you then. I’m dumb, but I’m strong.”

  The lawman chuckled. “I don’t think so, Trot.”

  Cobe tilted his head to one side. “You do have a plan, don’t you?”

  “It ain’t so much a plan—more of a settlement of things. The three of you will walk away from here when the Rites are done.”

  Willem made an indecent sound with his tongue. “Tell that to Lode.”

  “Lode won’t have no say in it. When the dust settles tomorrow I want the three of you to head north. Take Sara and Kay with you. When you think you’ve gone far enough, swing west and keep goin’ till you get to the ocean. If the five of you stick together, you just might find Victory Island.”

  “You’re coming with us,” Trot said.

  “No. I’m gonna die tomorrow. Don’t go thinkin’ I’ve given up—I just found out this very day I have a daughter. I’ll fight like gawdamn wild, but we all know how it’s gonna end. Even if I somehow win, Lode will finish me on the spot.” He took a long pause and stared intently at each of them. “Promise you’ll do as I say—promise me the five of you will stay together and keep yer distance from them things we woke up back in Big Hole.”

  They nodded their heads in silence.

  ***

  Cobe couldn’t sleep. His brother and Trot were curled up in front of the fireplace sharing an old blanket Sara had given them. The fire had gone out hours before, and Cobe watched the two struggle back and forth for more coverage. Trot would pull the blanket over his round shoulders and Willem would yank it back seconds later. After a while he looked back out the window and watched Lode watching him. Did he ever sleep?

  “He’s a nasty one, isn’t he?”

  Cobe jumped from his stool and saw someone in the gloom padding quietly around Willem and Trot. “You scared me.”

  Kay leaned against the window frame. “Didn’t mean to. You live in a place long enough, you get to know where all the squeaks are. I didn’t want to wake them two.”

  “You couldn’t sleep either?”

  “Lawson snuck into our room about an hour ago. He settled in next to my Ma.” Cobe’s eyes widened. “It ain’t like that…They’re just talking. Thought I’d give them some space.”

  “So the lawman’s your pa.”

  “I guess he is.”

  The moonlight flooding in made her face glow. She did look a lot like Lawson, but Trot had said it right; she was softer, younger—and a whole lot prettier. Cobe had been thinking too much about the girl from Big Hole. It was nice to look at Kay. This wasn’t some dumb dream without any meaning. This was real. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way—sorry you’re gonna have to say goodbye for real tomorrow.”

  Kay shrugged. “I’ve known about him for less than a day. I figure it won’t take long to get over his passing. It’s not like he’s a nice man or anything.”

  Cobe thought about that. He had looked up to the lawman in a reverent, terrified kind of way since he was a child. It was only in the last few weeks he’d started to hate the man. But Lawson had explained his reasons for letting his parents die. It was Lawson that had set out after Cobe and his brother. He’d saved their lives more than once, and he was set to sacrifice himself once again at the Rites. The lawman wasn’t a nice man—but he wasn’t a terrible one either.

  “He wants your ma and you to leave Rudd when this all over.”

  “I know…I heard them whispering about it.”

  “What’s she think of that?”

  “She don’t wanna leave Rudd. It’s the only home she’s ever known.” She looked away from the moon and stared into Cobe’s eyes. “But I get the feeling she won’t fight him on it. We’ll be heading north with you tomorrow night at this time.”

  Cobe didn’t want this night to end. It would be Lawson’s last, and he liked the sound of Kay’s voice. “You ever left this town before?”

  “Never been past the pit…What’s out there?”

  What would he tell her—that the lands were desolate dust bowls belonging to rollers and howlers? He wondered if her ma had ever told her about the Dirty Hills, and the family of inbred murderers living in its forests. And then there was Big Hole. Trot had accidently released the first monster from that ancient, subterranean village, but it had been Cobe’s idea to run away from Burn with his brother. If he’d stayed home, those things wouldn’t be after them now. Kay and her ma wouldn’t have to leave Rudd. The lawman wouldn’t have to die.

  “Nothing…There’s nothing good out there.” Cobe no longer wanted to hear her voice. He didn’t want to have to lie anymore. He stood up from his stool and stretched his legs. “It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow. Gods only know how long it’ll be until we get a chance to sleep again.”

  Kay started away and turned to whisper one last thing. “I been waiting to get outta this town my whole life. I wish it didn’t have to be this way…but I’m not sorry.”

  You will be, Cobe thought. He waited until she was gone and lay down next to his brother. He didn’t fight Willem and Trot for a piece of the blanket. Cold or warm, Cobe figured sleep would be a hard thing to come by.

  Chapter 42

  The pit was empty. It had been cleared of most of the mud and rocks that had accumulated over the last two years, but it still didn’t look like any proper kind of arena where men fought to the death. There were still ankle-breaking ruts and sharp nubs of bigger stones poking up through the dirt. Maybe that was the point, Cobe thought. Why make dying any easier? The workers had finished their part in it. They sat up in the rocks with their wives and children, talking with friends, placing bets, and
arguing on outcomes. It was a big crowd, or so Cobe believed. This was the first Rites he’d ever attended. There were around six-hundred people that called Rudd home, and over half of them were here.

  The sun had risen an hour before but people traveling from Burn were still arriving, pushing their way through the home crowd, searching for any little bit of bare stone left to sit on. Word had arrived back in Cobe’s village that Lawson would be fighting in the last event. Not many men fought in the Rites more than once, and none of them had a reputation like the lawman. He was respected and feared in equal parts. A lot of folks had come to cheer him on, and even more were hoping he would lose.

  Rudd’d town leader—a skinny old runt of a thing named Yaven—walked out into the center of the pit. The crowd cheered, and the man held his arms up for silence. A gust of wind lifted the three feet of wispy white hair growing out from the back of his skull around like a tattered banner. Cobe gathered from the whispered conversations around him that Yaven had fought in the Rites as a young man. Size apparently didn’t account for everything.

  “Good people of Rudd!” The crowd fell quiet. “Visitors from Burn!”

  Cobe glanced at his brother, and Willem rolled his eyes. The boys were no longer residents of any town, but Yaven’s small insult still managed to piss them both off.

  “We have assembled here this morning to witness a glorious and bloody event. Before I was born…before my father was born…and many generations before him—The Rites have been held here in this pit every second year. All those other years in between don’t much matter. The shit-hole they use in Burn can hardly be called a true arena.” That brought a roar of laughter from the crowd. Someone from Burn stuck up for their home town and called Yaven a stringy old fuck. Yaven smiled the remark away and gestured for silence once again. “As in years past, the bouts will be presented in order of age and ability…That’s to say the most feeble and useless will compete first.” More laughter. “These preliminary contests may not seem all that important…The combatants have either volunteered to prove themselves worthy of continued citizenship in our towns, or they have been selected by their peers to compete. They are fools, and they are freaks. They are deformed and dumb. But on this day…on this day they deserve our respect.” There was a long pause in Yaven’s speech as the onlookers from both villages bowed their heads in solemn thought. “And after the preliminaries—when the main event takes place—you will be treated to the very best our towns have to offer.” He planted his hands on his hips and did a half-turn for the people to recognize him as one of those past champions. “The time has come!”

  Cobe looked back over the crowd. Every square inch of rock and boulder was occupied with men, women, and children. There was even a baby propped up its father’s shoulders for an optimal view. Cobe no longer regretted his decision for leaving Burn. His mother had believed in the idea of civilization, but he saw none of it fostering here. Humanity in larger gatherings was blood-thirsty and ignorant. He looked forward to taking his chances again with the howlers and rollers.

  Two larger groups were pushing their way through the trail between boulders at the west side of the pit. They jostled for room and pushed spectators aside. The town representatives and trainers had arrived with their first batch of champions.

  Yaven saw them and threw his arms back into the sky. He finished his preamble with the words most people sitting in the rocks knew by heart. “For Rudd or for Burn—for Burn or for Rudd…for honor and for love of our land…the Rites have begun!”

  People rose from their seats and roared. A few fell and toppled onto those standing below. The noise they made was incredible and Cobe saw Trot standing next to him cover his ears in an attempt to block the sound out. He looked terrified and confused, but he was the only one.

  William shouted to be heard. “You ain’t never been to the Rites before, Trot?”

  “A few times,” he yelled back. “I keep forgetting how loud it gets.”

  Cobe spotted Sara among the men Rudd had chosen to fight. She would be tending to the wounded from both villages this year—the task of looking after Burn’s fighters had fallen on her shoulders since Cobe’s mother was dead. Kay wasn’t with her. The lawman’s daughter had stayed back in town. The lasts words she’d spoken to him an hour before still rang in his brain.

  Always figured my Pa was dead—don’t need to see him die today to prove it.

  The crowd drew back, creating a larger circle of trodden dirt for the combatants to trade blows in. Cobe was pushed back with them. He stepped on something soft and almost fell backwards. He’d squished a piece of shit in two with his heel, but there were no dogs inside the pit. They didn’t need dogs here, he thought. The place was already filled with animals.

  Yaven had disappeared. In his place was the old eyeball-impaler from the day before. Rudd’s eldest selection stumbled around in the ruts searching for another rock to use. His opponent walked out and was hailed with curses. Cobe knew the man. His name was Gil, and he was famous in Burn for being notoriously slow-witted. The old man saw his challenge and joined in with the swearing audience.

  “He’s half my fucking age and twice as big! I ain’t fightin’ him! I ain’t!”

  The crowd exploded its protests and rocks were hurled at him. Arlo had been an unlikely champion the day before during practice, but now he was seen as a coward, and the people from Rudd and Burn were letting him know it. He scooped one of the stones up and waved it over his head. The crowd approved, and Arlo slowly advanced on Gil.

  One of Gil’s trainers yelled. “Go easy on him. Go slow, and don’t hit too hard. We’re here for gawdamn show!”

  The man swung his arm in a lazy arc and connected with Arlo’s neck. Arlo fell into the dirt and Cobe heard a bone snap. The trainer groaned, and Gil moved in to finish it. He grabbed one of Arlo’s skinny ankles in two beefy hands and started spinning him around. Arlo squealed and threw the rock towards Gil’s face. It bounced off of his forehead and he released the old man into the air.

  Blood spilled into Gil’s eyes as he staggered about the pit looking for his enemy. He found him eventually, twelve feet away and dying. Gil wasn’t the brightest fighter Burn had to offer, but he knew what he was there to do. He stomped on Arlo’s chest with his big feet until the old man was good and dead. He kept on stomping until the ribs were pulp. A couple of Burn men finally ran out and pulled him away. People in the rocks applauded—the bout had been shorter than most wanted, but extremely entertaining.

  They would have to bear witness to four more matches like this, Cobe thought, trying not to vomit on his brother’s back. Four more gruesome contests before the lawman took his place at the center of it all. He looked up and saw a boy smaller than Willem climbing along the highest branch on the tree hanging out over the pit. He spun around it twice, imitating Arlo’s final moments, and a group of his friends clustered around the tree’s base laughed.

  Cobe dreaded the day’s end, but it couldn’t come soon enough.

  ***

  Kay was on the west side of town getting water from the well when she saw the group of strangers crossing the bridge. If they were folks from Burn coming to see the Rites then they would be sorely disappointed. It was a few hours past noon and most of the fighting would already be over. The lawman—her Pa—would more than likely be preparing for his go in the pit right about now, and these late travelers would be lucky to even see any of that sorry competition. But people from Burn wouldn’t be entering Rudd from the west—most people used the southern bridge between towns and saved half a mile of extra walking.

  When the fat woman ran the last twenty feet of bridge and sank her teeth into the lone guard’s face, Kay knew these folks weren’t from Burn. These were the ones she’d overheard Lawson warning her Ma about in the night. She hadn’t heard much—Kay had felt too uncomfortable eavesdropping on their private whisperings—but she’d picked up enough to know these strangers were more than dangerous. They were deadly.

&nbs
p; She dropped the half-filled water bucket and ran for home.

  ***

  “Kill them all,” Colonel Strope ordered.

  Lothair took a hold of Ivan before he could rush down the first dirty street. “Spread out, question them first on the whereabouts of the old cowboy, and then kill them.” The Russian nodded and set after the young girl he’d seen fleeing moments earlier. She had light, golden hair, and Ivan had always enjoyed pretty young blondes.

  Aleea took Lenny by the hand and led him in another direction. “Come on, kid, let’s see what we can find to eat in this dump.”

  Lothair tapped Eunice on her fat shoulder. “Have you had enough yet? We do have work here, you know.”

  The woman had eaten most of the soft parts away from the guard’s throat. She was now trying to jam her fingers deeper into his insides for some bigger organs. “Leave me alone…I haven’t eaten a thing in over two hours.”

  “Go on,” Strope said to Eichberg. “I’ll stay with Edna.”

  “No…I’ll keep an eye on my grand-daughter. You go find what you can with the others.”

  The Colonel did as he was told and followed after Aleea and Lenny.

  Lothair ignored Eunice’s chewing and tore off one of the guard’s arms. He held the dripping end of it out towards Edna. “Hungry, my dear?”

  Edna was leaning against her daughter for support. She raked the air in front of her. “Hung…Hungeeee.”

  “She’s showing improvement,” Lothair said. “Her ability to speak is returning. Pretty soon the three of us will be able to sit down at a family dinner and discuss things… Mutual dreams perhaps.”

  “She won’t talk to you—I won’t let her.”

  “Where was the Cryers Project conducted? Which installation…Which state?”

  “Fuck you, gramps.”

  Lothair butted her in the forehead with the stump of dead arm. “What about you, Jenny? I haven’t seen you eat anything since we brought you back. Aren’t you starving?”