by Greg Dragon
A strange expression flickered across Walton’s face and he hesitated for a moment. But then he nodded and walked away. He stopped David and sent him back to sit by Charity. She plopped down on the ground and frowned at her husband.
“You’re very boring, you know. You’re not at all the man I married.”
David stared straight ahead. He didn’t react to her in any way.
She continued to study him. “No, that’s not right. Maybe you are exactly the man I married. I just didn’t know who I was marrying. I think your mother was right.” The words were bile in her mouth and she forced herself to stop talking.
They sat in silence until Walton returned a bit later with several of the other men and women in tow. They were all carrying armfuls of branches and twigs. They dumped them on the road in front of Charity and set to work.
She watched them with interest at first, but as the sky started to lighten from bluish black to cerulean, she began to fret. The sun was not kind to them and Dixonville was still several hours away. She stood and walked over to Walton.
“How much longer is this going to take? Is it really that difficult to build a chair?” She popped her hips to the side and slapped her hands onto them. The anger that had been building over the last six months found its way to the forefront and her annoyance showed on her face.
Walton bowed his head. “Soon, my queen. Soon. I’m doing my best, but the others...”
Charity made an irritated noise in the back of her throat. “Are they all really so stupid?” she snapped.
Walton bowed his head again. “No, my queen, not always. There were others, smarter. Little Bear killed them.”
She scoffed. “He told me. I don’t get it. Why would he do something so stupid?”
Walton just shrugged.
Charity rolled her eyes and walked away toward the east. She stared at the horizon where the dark blue was growing lighter. Why would Little Bear kill anyone who showed signs of intelligence? But more importantly, why would he let her live? Her lips puckered to the side in a grimace of confusion. And what else did he not tell her? She suddenly felt less than sure about her decision to remove him and take the world on by herself. She sank down beneath a tree to ponder.
The sky was turning pink by the time the men finished the chair. Charity climbed onto the contraption and sat down. It wobbled as they picked it up, but it held together. Walton had layered branches full of soft leaves onto the seat and it was more comfortable than she expected.
“Go,” she called to the men beneath her. Their shuffling gait caused the throne to tip and she almost fell off. “Watch it, you morons!”
It took another hour and a lot of instruction from Walton before they managed to carry her without dumping her onto the ground, but by then the sun was peeking above the horizon. It licked Charity’s skin like flames from a hot fire and small cracks began to form along her arms.
She growled and stomped her foot on the platform. “Put me down.” They started to lower her to the ground. “No, wait. Carry me to those trees.” She pointed to a thick copse of trees off the road. “We’ll stay there until sunset.”
As they carried her to shelter, she let her anger bubble over and berated them for being bumbling idiots who couldn’t accomplish a simple task. Not one of them spoke against her and in the end, she decided it only made her angrier. She settled into brooding silence and let them finish their task.
They found a cool spot under a tight cluster of trees that provided plenty of shade for the whole group. Very little sound found its way through and the ground was blanketed in thick ferns. Charity took off her boots and wiggled her toes in the soft foliage.
“Walton, line my throne with these. And the platform.”
He bowed in acknowledgment and began plucking the soft ferns from the ground.
“Also, make me a canopy. I want to be completely blocked from the sun and rain.”
He glanced up at her from his hands and knees, then he climbed to his feet. He bowed again and went to the group of men and women.
Charity watched them. It bothered her that they just stood there under the trees doing nothing until someone gave them clear instructions. She was quite sure that if she wasn’t around to command them, they would stand there until they died.
“Stupid people,” she muttered as she settled under a tree in a thick bed of ferns. She stretched out and watched the men work on her makeshift carriage.
She was staring into the space between sleep and wakefulness when a branch snapped off to the left. Her head jerked in that direction. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that all the others did, too. A large buck stepped out of the space between two trees. He had a clump of ferns hanging out of his mouth and he munched noisily until he caught sight of the intruders. His body froze, but his eyes darted around the small clearing.
Charity’s nostrils flared. She could smell the blood pounding through his veins, she could taste his fear on her tongue.
With a snort, the buck spun on his hooves and bolted back into the trees. The men took off after him, some snarling and spitting, some completely silent and intent on the prey in front of them. Charity sprang to her feet and took two steps before she forced herself to stop.
“What are you, an animal?” she asked herself. Contempt dripped from her tongue at her behavior.
She listened with both longing and disgust to the chase through the trees. It didn’t last long. The deer was large and fast, but there were a lot of hungry beasts after it. Its dying screams echoed through the woods. Charity rolled her eyes when David stumbled back into the clearing with blood on his face. He was still chewing what little meat he could grab before the deer was devoured. The others soon followed.
“Animals,” Charity spat at them, but the hunger inside her regretted not going with them.
Some of the men did not return. The first handful to reach the deer had been rewarded with broken necks and smashed skulls. Charity shrugged. It didn’t matter. There were still enough left to take over Dixonville, and once she had turned the town, she would head to Lonesome Ridge. Her army would grow and then she would set off to build her empire.
The sun was sinking toward the west when the canopy on her throne was finished. It was rough and ugly, but it kept out the sun. She sat back in the chair and made them take her out into the bright light to test it. It worked. None of the skin-scorching rays touched her. Charity smirked.
“Let’s go. No more dawdling about.”
The men and women who still huddled in the cover of the trees hesitated. Even Walton looked at her with trepidation instead of his usual benign obedience.
“The sun...” he mumbled as he waved his hand in the direction of the sky.
She pierced him with a glare. “What about it?”
He cowered and shook his head. “It’s still hot. The skin,” he whispered just loud enough for her to hear.
“My skin will be just fine.” She smiled at him. “And yours. You’ll be up here with me.” She scooted over and patted the seat beside her.
He hesitated, glancing at her and the men around her. Then he walked the short distance through the painful sun to climb aboard the contraption. From his safe seat, he ordered the group to move out. With a satisfied smirk on her face, Charity relaxed back onto her mobile throne.
The dark had settled in when they reached the outskirts of Dixonville. Charity called them to a halt and had them take shelter behind a ridge of boulders. She wanted to wait until the town was sleeping before she attacked. The men sagged down to the ground. Their energy was spent. Several of them had cracks along their arms and face, anywhere that wasn’t clothed. They were lethargic and their skin was brittle and dry.
Charity hopped down from her throne to give them a pep talk. “In just a couple hours time, you will forget all about this. Your stomachs will be full and your bodies rejuvenated. You have been starving for too long, subsisting on animal meat and only the occasional treat. But don’t worry. Now that Littl
e Bear is gone, now that I am your queen, you will not want for anything. As long as you stay with me and do all I ask, I will see to it that you are fed the way you should be. You will not lower yourselves to chasing deer in the forest ever again. You will feast on flesh of the best kind. Tonight, you will feast with me.”
She beamed at the men and women with expectation. As usual, they just stared back at her.
“Useless,” she sighed and plopped herself down against a tree.
When the night was as black as it was going to get, Charity rose to her feet. “It’s time.”
The men rose and followed her down the road. She left her throne where it was. When they neared the first house, Charity stopped them.
“There is a woman, Stella. She is in the third house on the right. She is mine. No one else is to touch her, do you understand? No one. Now spread out. There is no need to stick to the edges of town. We are not hiding anymore. Attack everyone, but try not to kill them forever. Arms and legs, stomachs, shoulders. You can eat the children. We don’t need them. Any questions?”
More silence.
“Go.” Charity waited as they fanned out and headed toward the silent houses. Dixonville wasn’t huge, maybe a hundred people, but it would be enough.
Walton stayed back near her, uncomfortable with abandoning his post. “Get. I’ll be fine on my own. Enjoy yourself.” She gave him a genuine smile as she waved toward one of the closer houses.
He bowed as a predator’s sneer pulled at his lips, then he stalked toward the house.
Charity walked to the front porch of Stella’s house and waited until she heard the screams start around her, then she stomped up the stairs. A light flickered on in an upstairs window. Charity smiled and raised her foot. The wooden door shattered as her heel connected with it. She tore what was left of it off its hinges and tossed it to the side. Her boots echoed ominously on the floors inside.
Shuffling footsteps and frantic whispers came from upstairs. With a sneer on her face, she followed them. As she reached the top, a blast rang out and she jerked to the side. A sharp pain tore through her shoulder, but it faded quickly. She glanced down at the gaping hole, then up into the wide eyes of a man holding a shaking shotgun pointed straight at her.
“You ripped my dress. I liked this dress.” Her smile grew as confusion fluttered across his face. She didn’t bother walking up the last two steps. Instead, she placed her hands on the railing and used her arms to throw herself toward the man. He collapsed beneath her like a rag doll. She gripped his throat and clamped down on his windpipe. He struggled, but he was no match for her. She sank her teeth into his shoulder just below his neck.
Two bare feet came into view around a doorway just as the man stopped moving. Charity tried to snarl, but her mouth was full. A large chunk of flesh came off when she jerked back. She spat it out and raised her head. Stella’s eyes were wide and terrified. She clamped her hands to her mouth and took a step back. Charity rose and took a step toward her.
“Hello, Stella.” The name tasted like bile on Charity’s tongue. She hated the woman with a passion. Stella was the elected leader of the local woman’s club. She had tried to recruit Charity several times, but all the while she looked down on Charity as if she were a worthless transplant. Charity would not be treated that way, not by anyone. Not anymore.
Stella whimpered. Charity grinned. “A little louder, if you please.”
Stella’s jaw dropped. For a brief second, she hesitated in the doorway and then she ran. She tried to reach the door on the other side of the stairs, but Charity darted out in front of her. She clamped her hand around Stella’s throat and lifted her into the air. With a strength she didn’t realize she possessed, Charity tossed her through the door. It shattered amid a myriad of moans.
Stella landed on the floor with a huff as her breath was forced from her lungs. She tried to climb to her feet, but her legs were tangled in her nightgown and she struggled to breathe.
Charity enjoyed the resounding echo of her heels on the wood as she crossed the floor to the bed. Two little boys were huddled together against the headboard. Twins. They whimpered as she reached them.
“No, please.” Stella reached out toward her children.
Charity turned halfway and cocked her head. “Please? Please what?”
The woman coughed. “Please don’t hurt my children.”
Charity smirked. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt them nearly as much as I hurt you.”
Then she grabbed the little boys by their hair. Stella screamed behind her as she pulled their bodies apart and smashed their heads together. They died instantly. She tossed the bodies to the ground. Deep inside, she felt a twinge of hatred at herself, but she shoved it back into the darkness and focused on the woman.
Stella collapsed onto the floor, sobbing into the wood. Charity walked over and knelt beside her. “See? They didn’t feel a thing,” she said as she stroked the woman’s hair. Her fingers tangled into the messy bun and she slowly arched the woman’s head back. “Unlike you.”
Charity squeezed the hair until the woman yelped in pain. Then she took her sweet time stripping Stella’s body of the most delicate flesh. A pool of blood spread out from the body and dripped through the wood and stained the ceiling below. Stella’s screams started out strong, but they dwindled to whimpers and soon she no longer moved.
Satiated at last, Charity sat back on her heels. Then she reached out and snapped Stella’s neck with one swift motion. “You are not coming back,” she said to the body beside her.
After a few minutes of sitting peacefully in the dark, purposefully refusing to look at the cooling bodies on the bed, she forced herself to her feet. She left the room and shut the door behind her, mentally shutting out the carnage with it, then she headed into Stella’s bedroom. Using the wash basin, she cleaned herself up. In the closet, she found Stella’s nicest dress and stuffed herself into it. By the time she was presentable again, the screams and shouts in the rest of the village had stopped. She made her way downstairs and walked out into the quiet.
She strolled down the middle of the street. Her men and women stumbled from the houses, drunk on the best dinner they had ever had. They gathered around her and waited. When the recently deceased began to rise, they joined the group, lost and confused, but aware that they were now part of something bigger. None of those who turned displayed signs of Charity’s level of intelligence. She was both dismayed and grateful. She longed for someone to talk to, but she also feared the challenge to her rule.
When all the bodies that weren’t destroyed had risen again, Charity sent Walton to find a carriage. They rigged it to be pulled by several of her new soldiers, one of them being David, as none of the horses survived the slaughter. She grinned as she climbed inside. It was plush and comfortable. Her army was more than triple its previous size. She was fed and feeling good. She couldn’t be happier.
“On to Lonesome Ridge,” she told Walton as he climbed in to join her.
Walton relayed the message and Charity sank back into the overstuffed seat as they began to move.
Chapter 20
The Gaines brothers reached town early in the evening, just as the sun was sinking below the trees on the horizon. Jeremiah drooped against his saddle horn. His eyes were closed and he forced himself to take slow, steady breaths. His horse lagged behind Jed’s a bit, but Jasper stayed next to him. The young man kept throwing furtive glances at his injured brother and it was starting to get on Jeremiah’s nerves. He clenched his teeth and dreamed about taking a long swig of Neil Avery’s special whiskey.
The quickest path to the saloon from where they were was just a turn onto Main Street and then a straight ride to the middle of town. But Jed swung out and around the town, bringing them in near the train station. He slowed the horses to an almost painful crawl.
“Looks like Fitch is shipping some crates back east,” he said as he craned his neck to survey the loading platform attached to the back of the station. “T
rain should be in around noon tomorrow.”
He left the rest of his thoughts unsaid. The others didn’t need to hear it. It wasn’t the first time they’d hit the train before it came into Lonesome Ridge and Jed had already given them the rundown. They would rest up at the saloon for the night and then head out before dawn. If all went according to Jed’s master plan, they would waylay the train a couple miles outside of town and steal anything of value.
Jasper swallowed his sigh. The last time they tried to rob the train, Jed had made him jump from his horse onto the locomotive. He had missed the stairs and was rewarded with a broken leg and a cracked rib. Jeremiah had made the jump, but that particular train held few valuables and the risk wasn’t worth it.
This time, though, Jed wasn’t going to act on just a whim. He already had an area picked out. Jasper had helped him stuff a bunch of clothes with straw and the dummies were waiting out near the tracks. The plan was to prop the dummies up on the tracks before the train arrived. The conductor would be forced to bring the train to a stop. While he was dealing with the fake outlaws, the real outlaws would jump up from where they hid in some weeds and board the train. Rumor had it that a big shipment of money was coming from back east to bolster the bank in Lonesome Ridge and if the rumors were true, the Gaines boys would be quite comfortable for awhile. Jasper liked comfort, but he also liked his life. He was less optimistic than Jed about the whole operation and hoped against all hope that something happened to keep them from having to try the not-so-little heist.
“You awake, boy?” Jeremiah nudged Jasper in the foot as Nelly pulled to a stop beside Dynamite.
Jasper blinked and looked away from the crates. Jed was half a block ahead of them, having seen what he wanted to see, and Jeremiah was waiting. He was looking a little pale.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He kicked his horse into gear and it followed after Jed.
Jeremiah raised an eyebrow. He understood Jasper’s reservations. He had many of his own, but Jed was the boss and they didn’t have much say in the matter.
