Sampson's Legacy: The Post-Apocalyptic Sequel To Legacy Of Ashes (Earth's Ashes Book 2)

by Ric Beard

  “Oh, it’s just so easy for you to judge, fancy bitch.” Janie pushed herself up to her knees. “You don’t know what it’s like out here. Weren’t no one else gonna continue our line. Weren’t no one else around here to take to my daughter.”

  “You people are crazy.”

  “Shut up, Maw! You just want my baby! Shut up, now!”

  “Twyla, honey, you just gotta—”

  Twyla lunged. Nina jumped back, but she hadn’t been the girl’s target. Janie’s eyes widened in horror as Twyla jerked her arm away from her mother, and blood sprayed in an eruption of crimson, splattering Twyla’s face and the front of her filthy dress. Janie clutched at her neck and then held her bloody hands out in front of her. Stumbling backwards on her knees with her arms flailing in circles, her head cracked against the counter with a sickening thud as she slammed forward to the ground, a river of blood spurting from the gash to match her pulse.

  Twyla stared down at her mother, her head tilted in that animal way, as Nina stepped sideways, across the threshold through which the psycho girl had entered.

  When the heat of the sun through the glass washed across Nina’s shoulder, indicating her proximity to the door, she grabbed the doorknob, yanked the door open and jumped across the threshold.

  “Aaah!” Twyla screamed as she charged.

  Too late.

  Nina grabbed the rifle waiting just where the kidnapping asshole had left it and swung it around as Twyla closed the gap. A flash of blue light emitted from the tip and slammed into Twyla’s chest, sending her body splaying backward across the threshold, the spade and secateurs flying to either side and rattling across the kitchen floor.

  Nina stepped into the kitchen and set her eyes upon Charlie as Twyla writhed on the floor. The slap of the ejecting charging lever caused Charlie to finally jerk awake.

  Thumbing a button on the side of her rifle, Nina pumped the charging lever several times and flicked the lever to the red setting. Twyla, writhed on the floor. Nina pressed the tip of the barrel to Twyla’s pregnant belly and the girl stopped writhing. She glared up at Nina, her eyes blinking rapidly. The rifle whirred.

  “Don’t you shoot my baby,” she whispered, absently, stunned from the impact of the pulse bolt. “Don’t you kill my Paw’s baby.”

  Nina stared into the girl’s eyes for two heartbeats and shook her head.

  “Can you hear me, Charlie?” Nina asked.

  “Mm,” Charlie said, still laying on the floor with his eyes closed.

  “I’m gonna leave now. If you follow me, I’m going to make you regret it. Say that you understand me, Charlie.”

  “Understand,” Charlie muttered.

  “Twyla?”

  The girl didn’t answer. She shot a wounded glare up at Nina, her hands clenching opened and closed, as if she were longing for her gardening implements. Nina bore down on the rifle, pushing it into the hard epidermal shell that protected the product of incest beneath.

  “Twyla?”

  “Go on,” Twyla growled. “You get out of my house. And if I ever see you again, I’m gonna kill you.”

  Nina sneered a final time before crossing the threshold and walking out into the day. The sun over head was too high for her to know which way was East.

  “Dammit.”

  The small, electric powered cart Charlie dragged her here in sat on a dirt driveway. She plopped down, slapped her rifle into onto the bench seat next to her, and fired it up with the press of a button a wary eye focused on the back door of the farmhouse in Crazyland as she backed away.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  LIKE AN OLD COWBOY MOVIE

  34

  They turned a corner on the cracked asphalt and Lexi pointed ahead, while cradling her injured arm to her torso.

  “Get an eyeful of that, would ya?”

  Lexi stopped and Sasha bumped into her. Sasha’s dog kept walking as if it hadn’t noticed.

  Lexi clicked her tongue. “Hey, dummy.” The dog stopped and craned its head to look back at her. “Where do you think you’re going?” She snapped her fingers and pointed at the ground. “Get back over here.”

  The dog looked down the road, as if taking in all the commotion and deciding whether it should risk going off on its own.

  Judging from its width, the street had probably been the main thoroughfare of the old-world Virginia town. Unlike the natural stone buildings she’d seen from the road atop the ridge, these were coated in fresh paint of bright oranges, greens, and blues. Both sides were lined with wooden stalls open on one side through which people could walk and view the seller’s wares.

  It’s a by-god street fair. Or a craft exhibition.

  “Are we really naming the dog Dummy?” Sasha asked. “She seems pretty smart, to me.”

  Lexi’s lips parted as she scrunched up her forehead and glared at the murderous ninja standing next to her.

  “Are you actually frowning? Did my calling the dog a name offend you?”

  The dog finally turned lazily and walked back to Lexi’s feet. It looked up at Sasha.

  When Sasha curled up one side of her mouth and stuck the tip of her tongue between her lips, Lexi turned back to the street, accepting her answer.

  Plenty of the crowd before her wore the standard pants-and-suspenders of the modern farmer, but some of the women wore colorful dresses, and straw sun hats they might have weaved themselves seemed to be the current fashion statement. Whereas she was used to having to scan crowds—or individuals, for that matter—to find potential threats, this crowd left little to the murky imagination of a 128-year-old woman who’d seen her share of dark. Her eyes scanned the hips of the crowd ahead as people weaved around each other and crossed the road from stall to stall.

  They’re all wearing gun holsters. Even the women, in their pretty dresses, all carrying guns. No wonder Sasha had allowed Lexi to keep her sidearm though she’d forced her to change from her black combat suit to the ivory shirt and jeans.

  “This place seems like a combination of surreal and lost in time,” Lexi said.

  “How so?” Sasha asked. She’d changed into a purple dress with a simple cut that accentuated her curves in such bleak contrast to the long black trench, that Lexi was taken aback each time she looked back at her. Her utterly straight black hair was pulled back in a matching clip. Of course, each of her hips wore guns.

  I would’ve never mistaken her for someone who’d care about style.

  “It’s like an old cowboy movie.”

  Sasha’s forehead scrunched and two verticals lines appeared above the bridge of her nose

  “When I was young, my parents took Sean and me to these street fairs. Artisans sculpted and painted their art and lugged them to the fairs to sell. I loved the fairs.” She felt the right side of her mouth tick upward. “Sean couldn’t stand them and always went right to the bluegrass bands to listen to the music.”

  “I like music.” Sasha’s tone was enthusiastic, child-like. “Can’t get enough of it. Moss put some on my Rapture. Um, Tabs you call them. I don’t get a lot of chances to listen in the fucking wilds, though.”

  Finally, the f-bomb. I was starting to wonder if I could trust her.

  “At those street fairs, no one carried guns. Here, they all look like a bunch of cowboys, except they’re not dressed like cowboys.”

  “I find this very confusing. I know little of cowboys. That was a fashion in OK City, right? Big stupid hats and wide-bottomed pants with high-heeled boots?”

  “I have no idea. Sounds right.”

  A voice came from behind.

  “Yes. It was.”

  Lexi spun to find a man in a button shirt and poorly-matched, baggy black pants. Her hand slapped her sidearm.

  Where the hell did he come from?

  He wagged a lazy finger at her weapon. “You won’t need that.” His medium tone matched his indifference, as if he were ordering a glass of water.

  “Jacob?” Sasha’s face lit up like she’d stepped under a pink
light.

  “Sister,” Jacob said.

  Jacob was short. Barely half-a-head taller than Sasha, half-a-head shorter than Lexi. She had to tilt her chin down to meet the smaller man’s eyes.

  “Brother,” Sasha said, stepping forward with her arms stretched out. Jacob embraced Sasha and his hand made two smacking sounds on the back of her dress. “It’s been too long.”

  Apparently following Lexi’s eyes to Jacob, Sasha continued. “Jacob was stationed in OK City until a while ago. We had him looking into a criminal enterprise.”

  “I’m not going to ask,” Lexi said.

  “That’s probably good. We’ll have time to talk later.”

  “You keep saying that.” She cocked her chin up at Jacob. “So you’re a card-carrying member of the…what do you call yourselves?”

  “The Black,” Sasha said.

  How could I possibly forget that?

  “And yes. It was Jacob who worked with Moss to…um…” her eyes met with Jacob’s for a short moment “…recruit me.”

  “So, where are we going?” Lexi asked, suddenly feeling a wave of introversion at the crowd milling about.

  Sasha extended a finger. Just right up here to meet a friend of ours. She’ll be able to get your arm properly attended to.”

  Hopefully without having to break it again. Lexi sighed.

  “Okay, then what?”

  “Let’s deal with one thing at a time, Lexi. Arm first.”

  Lexi sighed again. “Fine.”

  Sasha stopped and turned toward her. Lexi wondered if the look of derision on her face matched the one she’d used on Sasha over what she’d called the dog a moment ago.

  If so, I need to stop using that face.

  “If you must know, Jacob spotted one of the trucks outside of town. He messaged me an hour ago. I thought we could take it out. Does that sound like fun?”

  Lexi bounced on the balls of her feet. “I’d clap my hands together and dance up and down if my arm wasn’t broken.”

  Sasha squinted one eye. “Is this sarcasm?”

  Lexi gestured with a pinching finger and thumb. “Yeah, but just a little. Are we going to stand here in the middle of the road? People are funneling around us.”

  “Let them funnel. We’re talking. They don’t seem to mind.”

  “Sasha,” Jacob said, “be considerate of others.”

  It was Sasha’s turn to sigh. “Fine!”

  Lexi glanced up at the crowd and noted that entirely too many eyes were set on their group for her comfort. At the same time, the reams of people entering and exiting the market provided them with ironic seclusion. Lexi searched their faces, but any eyes that matched her gaze were quickly diverted to the ground or thrust to the side.

  Why would people wearing sidearms seem so unconfident? Who the hell am I standing with?

  Sasha’s voice caused her to jump. “Come.”

  The dog responded first, raising off its haunches and moving toward Sasha.

  “See?” she patted the dog’s head. Its tongue wagged. “Smart girl. Not a dummy.” She clicked her tongue, and the dog looked around suddenly, a low growl emitting from its throat.

  “What is it?” Lexi asked. She turned her head with the animal’s but only saw people milling about. “You smell something?”

  Sasha poked the dog, and it snapped out of it. “Come on, baby.”

  They stepped beneath the shade of the longest awnings she’d ever seen outside the Olympics, their pink and blue fabric stopping at every intersection and starting again on the other side. Squinting up, Lexi could see how the edges of the awnings attached to metal rails screwed into the faces of two- and three-story buildings, shading the stalls on the left and right.

  Once they were in the midst of the crowd, the patrons were less like reverse polarity magnets repelled by Lexi’s company, but only because the road had narrowed due to the stalls on either side.

  They only have so much room to avoid us. Stranger danger?

  Lexi found her heart aching at a memory of similar crowds in Triangle City but pushed it away.

  A woman standing in one of the stalls wore such a bright yellow dress that it stole Lexi’s attention from everyone else on the street. Unlike the rest of the crowd, she didn’t divert her gaze from Lexi’s group. Lexi stole a glance over her shoulder to find Sasha returning the woman’s gaze with a smile. The table in front of her was covered by metal objects Lexi couldn’t make out from here. She’d stowed her SmartGlasses on Sasha’s advice, so as not to draw more attention than desired.

  Of course, I desire zero, usually.

  “Why are people staring at us? Why do I feel like they’re uncomfortable with our presence?”

  Sasha flashed a glance of derision at the taller woman and smirked.

  “You’re not being serious.”

  “What?”

  She flashed her teeth in a full grin. “What are you, six feet tall? Your skin shines ivory in a sea of tans and sunburns. How long’s it been since you walked into a town full of strangers?”

  When Lexi looked around, she realized Sasha was right. They weren’t staring at her group. They were staring at Lexi.

  “Taking you here is like walking in with a big sign on my chest reading, ‘See amazingly pretty redhead here!’ You see all the guns on their hips? I promise you, they’re not uncomfortable. Now come on.”

  Sasha set off toward the stall, but Lexi stopped. Across the road, she spied a large drawing on a wooden board with a familiar figure. Had she worn her SmartGlasses into town, instead of sheathing them as instructed, she’d have been able to read the text from here. Without thinking, she weaved through the crowd for a closer look.

  The figure was painted in black with a wide hat covering its face. Whoever had drawn the figure had a penchant for it, because the image was a dead ringer for Moss—or Sasha.

  Lexi muttered the text printed beneath the figure to herself.

  “Wanted: The Children of the Widow, A.K.A., The Black Ghosts. REWARD. Report sightings to the town marshal.”

  “Lexi?”

  She wheeled around and set her jaw as she looked down at Sasha. “Why do I get the impression I don’t have the whole story, here?”

  Sasha’s eyes flicked in their sockets from side-to-side to indicate the crowd. “Not here, we’ll talk in private.”

  Jacob stood at Sasha’s shoulder, watching the crowd over his shoulder.

  Lexi eyed the market patrons, the bouncing sidearms on their every hip, and nodded grudgingly.

  As they stepped out of the midday sun and into the shade of the stall, Lexi perused the jewelry. It was mostly silver, maybe pewter. The stones were beautiful, placed into unique settings, and likely came from the region. The MidEast’s transition from Chain territory to this iteration over a couple of years was astounding. It made sense that a people weary from decades of violence and conscription would leach onto someone like Sampson, when compared to the raider generals who’d ruled with the edges of axes and rifles, and sometimes Lexi wondered if she shouldn’t just butt out. Then she remembered four dead farmers, including two young girls, in her mind’s eye that justified her mission. Her eyes ticked up to the young, blonde-haired woman to find her gazing back.

  “Hello,” she said. “You must be Lexi. I’m Ella…Hi Sasha.” She gave a cheerful little wave that made Lexi want to choke someone. Sasha returned it, though with less enthusiasm.

  “I guess my reputation precedes me?”

  “They told me you were coming,” Ella said. “Don’t worry, you’re beyond safe with us.”

  Lexi looked around. “Who is us, exactly?”

  “Cage?” Ella said.

  The sunlight vanished from the opening in the back of the stall as a lumbering figure stepped into the shadows and folded his arms across his chest.

  “This is my brother, Cage.”

  Cage was at least six inches taller than Lexi, and she couldn’t guess how much wider. If not for the mere breadth of his barrel ches
t, his meaty arms might have covered his torso as he folded them across.

  “Hi, Cage,” Lexi said. She reached. Cage’s hand engulfed hers, but he gripped it gently and let go.

  “Hello.”

  If a grizzly bear could talk, that’s what it would sound like. It’s like there’s a subwoofer in his throat. Did my legs just tremble?

  The dog growled up at Cage. To Lexi’s surprise, he raised the corner of his lip and growled back.

  Dummy laid her head on her paws and diverted her gaze.

  Cage shot Lexi a knowing gaze and smiled.

  Ella stared down at Lexi’s arm. “Mama is ready to see you all, Lexi. We should get that injury tended to.” Ella circled her display table, pulled down a rolling door, hooked the rope at the bottom thought a stake in the ground, and led them through the door in the back.

  “Not to tell you your business, but that stake doesn’t look like much in the way of security,” Lexi said.

  When she heard a strange, thick utterance next to her, Lexi turned. Cage was chuckling.

  “Oh, I suppose you’re right,” Ella said with a chuckle of her own. “It’s really just to signal we’re closed.” She gestured, and Lexi leaned in as prompted so Ella could whisper. “I could leave that door wide open overnight and no one would take anything.” She laughed and waved for them to follow as she turned between two stalls to merge with the crowd of shoppers and visitors, once again.

  Lexi decided to leave that little mystery for Sasha to explain when they were alone again.

  Cage took the lead as they crossed the wide street, and the crowd parted as if a wave was crashing through. Sasha walked in front of her, Ella at her side. Lexi turned to see that Jacob had relocated. She swiveled her head in the other direction. He wasn’t there either. He’d vanished.

  “He does that,” Ella said. She placed a hand on Lexi’s back. “Just a little further. Does your arm hurt?”

  Lexi looked down at it, cradled across her chest. “Not really.”

  “I see. I wasn’t sure, the way you’re holding it. Funny how we naturally protect ourselves, isn’t it?”

  The elastic, self-adhering bandage she’d been wearing since the accident had peeled off as easily as it’d gone on, and Lexi was thankful. Ella scanned Lexi’s arm with a device she hadn’t seen in too many years to remember. Whereas Sasha’s SmartGlasses—if you could call non-JenCorp manufactured eyewear that—had surprised her with their ability to x-ray her arm, the wand passing the blue light over her arm and sending its signals to the monitor next to Ella was a calling back to the old-school, advanced way of doing things.